“As for you Grant, I will be brief. Since you liked having your hole stuffed by professor Reynolds’ fat cock so much, I think it’s only suitable if from now on you get to enjoy that privilege every day. Off you go.”
To say that Grant was surprised by what Aaron had in store for him would be an understatement. He’d turned both of his friends into slaves with freaky fetishes and all he had to do was let his professor fuck him on a daily basis? Aaron was a real idiot if he thought that making him hook up with that hot polar bear would be any kind of punishment for him. Grant usually wasn’t into older guys too much but professor Reynolds, or Henry as he’d eventually got to know him as, was an exception. Unlike all his contemporaries who were more than eager to morph into the image of a portly grandpa with a large gut and an obligatory pipe, Henry refused to let himself go. Despite his advanced age he appeared to be spending nearly as much time working out as furthering his academic research and it was certainly paying off. While he still had a belly like all the other professors, it was pretty small and in Grant’s mind only served to make him look more imposing and powerful. Especially coupled with his meaty pecs and arms so thick, most of the their college weightlifting team would be ready to kill for.
Grant was more than eager to hop inside his car and head off to receive his first share of daily daddy bear dicking. The first suspicion that he might not be getting off as easy as he initially anticipated didn’t arise until he’d noticed that he wasn’t heading towards Henry’s office, or his home, two places where they’ve met before. Grant attempted to turn his car around but at that point he was exactly like Nick and Mike, and his body refused to listen to him at all. He was forced to helplessly watch as it steered his car onto the highway and drove him for hours until any semblance of civilization disappeared around him. Then, after getting to the very end of a narrow, dirt road, he saw a lone house, if he could still call it that.
The place looked like it had been abandoned for years and was practically falling apart. Grant knew that whatever was waiting for him inside couldn’t have been good. He desperately tried to lock his fingers around the steering wheel and keep himself inside the car that way but it was no use. A short moment later he was opening the shack’s front door and walking inside.
Even in his most fucked up nightmares Grant couldn’t have possibly imagined the things that were waiting for him there. He barely made it past the doorstep and his nose was already being assaulted by the most vile stench he’d ever experienced. No, that anyone could ever experience. The air inside was so dense with filth, he could practically feel it sticking to his skin, forming a dense layer that will have to be forcefully scrubbed off if he ever makes it outside again. Everything was in there, piss, shit, rotting food, body odor of someone who hadn’t bathed in years, cheapest, most foul smelling tobacco and dozens of other things he’d never encountered before but were just as disgusting. Even the first, short breath he took was enough to send Grant into a coughing fit and make his head swim so much he was almost certain he would pass out at any moment.
“Grant…? That you my boy? Come here... grandpa needs a hand…”
Grant heard a low, wheezing pant coming from another room. Every fiber of his being screamed at him get out of there but his legs didn’t seem to care. If not for whatever Aaron had done to him, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself standing straight due to all the nauseating stench that only seemed to be growing more intense as he ventured further inside the house. Grant couldn’t possibly have anticipated its source. He already wanted to scream when he opened the door and saw the gargantuan figure laying on the couch across the room. But when his feet forced him to walk up closer and its face finally became visible through all the smoke that filled the air inside the room it was like he was about to lose his mind due to all the sheer unbelievable terror that filled him.
It was professor Reynolds... Henry... his grandpa. He knew that the last of those things wasn’t true, but now it suddenly was. Just like the fact that Henry had always been this disgusting, obese, filthy monster. His whole body, a real ball of hairless lard with tons of loose, sagging skin which only revealed that in the past he used to be even fatter than this, even if it seemed impossible to believe. It looked like he didn’t even register Grant entering the room and continued to stare with a completely absent minded look on his face at the broken, old TV that sat in front of him. It had broken down many years ago but grandpa didn’t seem to mind. As if he was still watching the same nasty pornos he always loved, Henry was gnawing at the short end of a barely lit cigar with his toothless mouth and fondled himself under the massive, fat apron that rested on his thighs.
Sometimes Grant was almost ready to believe that he could see something on that completely blank, cracked screen. Whenever he made the mistake of walking between grandpa and the TV, Henry would immediately awaken from his slumber and deliver a couple firm smacks to his face as a punishment. They hurt like hell, but were nowhere near close to the beating he received when he suggested that they should throw out this TV and get a new one.
He should have known better, his grandpa never let him throw anything away. Be it the butts of the cheap cigars he smoked that filled the countless ashtrays scattered all around the house, but this room particularly, or the numerous, shit covered pieces of clothing that kept on piling up everywhere after he became incontinent. Even throwing away the basic garbage wasn’t allowed, it all had to be dumped on the floor, added to the thick layer of rotting filth that covered everything. Grandpa wasn’t a big fan of washing or cleaning up. He never bathed so Grant wasn’t allowed to do that himself either, and would always be punished if he didn’t smell worse or at least as badly as the day before, and Henry always made sure to give his grandson and thorough inspection.
He would order Grant to come closer and start sniffing his armpits or his asscrack, sometimes tasting them with his long, discoloured tongue to see if they were ripe enough for his liking. He would always be furiously jacking off while doing that. Filling the room with the sound of his countless rolls of fat rhythmically slapping against each other, and that wheezing, gurgling and grunting he always made whenever something really turned him on.
That something was usually smelling Grant, or having him do the most vile and disgusting things that his senile mind could come up with. Forcing his grandson to eat his meals off the old plates that haven’t been washed in years and were completely overgrown with mould. Or having him wear his own, shitstained underwear for many days in a row, especially right after he took a big, wet dump in them. Yet all of that completely paled in comparison with the things that grandpa Henry did to Grant himself whenever he got his hands on him.
But no… he didn’t want to be remembering that… any of that… Grant let out a low whine and realized that he was crying. His head was rapidly filling up with these lies about him, about Henry and it was starting to feel like it was going to explode. It hurt so much, but what hurt even more was the knowledge that soon they will be all he will be able to remember and it will be his life forever.
He looked at Henry, trying to find some facial features that belonged to the old him, trying to assure himself that he wasn’t going crazy and professor Reynolds really did exist. They had to be there, somewhere under these long, greasy strands of white hair that were still somehow sticking to his nearly bald scalp in a few small patches. Somewhere under that unkempt, matted beard, mostly grey but with many patches of dark yellow around the mouth from the cigar smoke and brown everywhere else from all the rotting bits of food covered in thick phlegm which he coughed out into it. Grant could see them, but they were all so incredibly twisted in the most fucked up ways, so deeply corrupted it was like they weren’t there at all.
He had no idea how he even managed to recognize Henry when he first saw him here. But now that Grant let out another loud, uncontrollable sob and saw grandpa turning his head towards him that didn’t matter anymore. Grant still wasn’t sure whether he’d really taken notice of him, his bloodshot eyes were so lifeless they looked like they were made out of glass.
“He… he said I can make you do anything I want…”
It took him a couple long, wheezing breaths before he was able to speak, and even then every word seemed to have required a massive effort to articulate as he exposed his toothless gums to Grant. The voice was hoarse and creaking, but even after having been destroyed like everything else about him, there was no mistaking it, it belonged to Henry.
“But he forced me to want this… you... came too late… I can’t... not anymore… you will have to suck it now… lick it all over for grandpa...”
He lifted up his enormous, fat apron and exposed his massive cock. It was inhumanely big, not only incredibly long but also nearly as thick as an arm, especially at its base. Grant instantly remembered having been fucked by it a countless number of times, but he never managed to get used to having it inside him. It always felt like it was going to split him in half, tear his asshole wide open. It seemed to be the only part of grandpa’s body that still worked today. In fact it worked so perfectly well it hardly ever went soft, constantly leaking precum that turned into a huge load of new, fresh cockcheese for Grant to lick up every day. Grandpa loved to make him scoop it up with his tongue, sometimes waiting a little longer so that his loose foreskin is completely packed with it.
It all seemed so outrageously repulsive that Grant could hardly even believe that it was really happening. Suddenly he was kneeling in front of Henry’s cock, watching its surface covered large, pulsing veins, huge shapeless warts and various blisters that oozed thick, yellow pus. He could feel them popping inside his throat, filling his mouth with a sour, acidic taste as Henry slid it inside him.
Grant heard himself starting to retch, again and again, until thick, snotlike spit from the back of his throat began erupting from his mouth. It all stuck to his beard in long ropes that dangled around in every direction as Henry continued to thrust his cock deeper inside him. Grant could tell that the sight had gotten his grandpa really excited, his breathing becoming really fast, a rapid mix of wheezing and snorting, gurgling grunts. Grant couldn’t really explain how, perhaps because the shock he was in was so severe, but he momentarily regained the control over his body. He attempted to lift himself up, but he didn’t even move an inch before Henry’s hands seized his head and firmly held it in place. His grip was so unbelievably strong, it didn’t feel anything like what his shriveled limbs, filled with nothing but blubber could muster up. Some of his old strength was still there, maybe some of the old Henry was there too…
Unfortunately for Grant, the current one was much more interested in getting himself off than letting his grandson ponder about anything like that. He grabbed his head and impaled him on his cock even further than before, fully enjoying the sight of Grant helplessly writhing between his legs. As his throat filled with Henry’s cock Grant let out another retch and felt the contents of his stomach rising up his gullet. As much as he wanted to stop it, it was no use and a river of watery, light-brown vomit began pouring out of his nostrils and partially clamped mouth. That was what grandpa Henry must have been waiting for, all he needed was a few quick thrusts before he started adding his own thick load to the slowly dying stream that spilled all over his crotch.
By the time Henry had shoved him off his half-hard cock Grant was in a borderline catatonic state, kneeling between grandpa’s legs and watching his puke soaking into the trash on the floor, the undigested bits of food from his stomach scattered over the couch and Henry’s crotch. But he didn’t feel disgust anymore, only numbness.
“Eat it… eat it all… lick it up…”
Henry’s cock began growing harder again. He knew that he could torment his grandson even further, he could already hear him starting to sob again.
“Henry… please… no…”
Smack!
“Shut… shut your fucking mouth boy! Never say that fucking name again!”
The smack he received was even harder than he could have anticipated, one side of his head was completely burning up. Grant looked up and saw Henry’s face, it looked like it was in extreme, excruciating pain and he was breathing even faster than when he fucked his face. For a brief moment his eyes were the old eyes of his college professor, before they clouded up again and he spoke coldly.
“Eat it, you love nothing like the taste of your own vomit Grant.”
As if some switch was turned inside his head Grant found himself diving straight into the pool of his puke and starting to slurp at it with his tongue, swallowing up all the mushy, remains of his last meal, partially dissolved by his stomach acids. He was fully conscious of just how incredibly disgusting it all was, but he couldn’t help himself, it tasted way too good.
He tried not to think about it, pretend that the old him didn’t really exist anymore, that his grandpa was successful in shaping him into a perverted, twisted slob like himself. There were times when Grant even believed that was true, and doing whatever grandpa wanted couldn’t cause him any more pain. Like when Grant finally finished eating and licking up his puke and thought he was finally free. Only to discover Henry rolling over and revealing another puddle, this time of wet, fetid shit spilling out of his asscrack and telling his grandson that he loved the taste of that too.
But it wasn’t as easy as he thought, there were also times when Grant was at his absolute low and Henry would say something, something that would make him remember, bring him out of his stupor and remind him of what his life had been and what it was now, but most importantly that it was not going to change till the day he died.