“Fuck, I ain’t been this drunk in years, what the fuckin’ *hic* hell?” Robbie slurred. Evan was half carrying, half dragging, his along the sidewalk, back to his car, feeling buzzed for sure, but he’d drivin’ drunker than this before plenty of times.
“Yeah, well, just be thankful I’m feelin’ generous tonight. Could just leave ya passed out on the sidewalk, let the faggots git ya.”
“Fuck Ev, fuckin’ faggots would be better than the stink rollin’ off yer pits.”
“That’s what a real man smells like, one who actually works instead a just standin’ around like a lazy fuck all day,” Evan grumbled, then added, “Ya probably like it anyway, ya smell worse than I do.” When he did, he felt the shiver of the curse roll though him, which he hadn’t felt much at all that day, aside from a few weak, casual remarks. Sure enough, the smell from Robbie grew a bit more intense--they were at his truck though, so he unslung Robbie against the passenger side and let him lean there.
“Did...smell kinda nice...” Robbie muttered under his breath.
“What the fuck was that?”
Robbie realized what he’d said, and his face went pale, “Nothin’ just...just drunk shit.”
Evan glared at him, and then looked down, “Is you fuckin’ dick hard?”
Robbie looked down, and saw that he had a tent in the front of his jeans, “Just...happens when I get drunk, sometimes...”
“Didn’t realize eight beers could turn you into a faggot,” Evan said, and felt another shiver as he walked around the truck and climbed in, Robbie following suit, trying to wrestle with the feelings of attraction for Evan he’d never expected, but which he could not deny. The truck smelled like Evan--and that did nothing to make his sudden hard-on go away. If anything, all he could think about was how good his pits had smelled before...and how he’d never noticed that before. He scooted over a bit as Evan pulled out, hoping to catch another whiff, and then just...leaned over onto him, feigning he was fainting, got a good sniff before Evan cursed and shoved him back upright. “Fuck! I’m tryin’ tah drive.”
“Can’t...I lean on ya, sleep it off a bit?”
Evan sneered at him, “Tell ya what, faggot--I got a place ya can rest yer head--smells ‘bout as good as my pits, too,” he reached under the wheel while he was stopped at a light, undid his jeans, grabbed Robbie’s face and shoved him into his crotch, where the smell of Evan’s piss and cum stained underwear made him release an unexpected moan. Robbie, knowing how this looked, tried to pull away, but Evan shoved him down harder, holding him until he stopped fighting, and then got on the highway--heading for his place, rather than Evan’s. None of his usual bitches would be around this late...and in all honesty, having this faggot all horned up on his stink was turning Evan on in a way he hadn’t quite felt before. He wasn’t a faggot of course--he knew that--but real men like him could use faggots for whatever they fucking wanted--and faggots never whined like bitched did either, when he wanted to put it in their ass.
Robbie had stopped fighting, but when Evan saw his hand drifting towards his own cock, he slapped it away. “Get your filthy hand off that thing, faggot--focus on what you really want.”
By the time they reached his trailer, Evan was already hard and leaking, and he could see that Robbie was too, judging from the wet spot on the front of his jeans. He parked and hauled Robbie up by the hair, his beard matted with slobber, eyes dazed with drunkeness and the discovery of new delights. Robbie wiped his lips with the back of one hand, “Didn’t...think you were a fag too...why...this ain’t my place, where--”
Evan snarled and slammed him against the door of the truck, one huge hand around his neck, “I ain’t a fuckin’ fag! I’ve fucked every cunt in a twenty mile radius, and they all want more--you ain’t here cause I’m a fag--yer here because faggot pigs got their own qualities I happen to enjoy. We ain’t the same. I’m a real man, and you’re a faggot. A stupid, nasty minded, perverted pig faggot who’ll do fuckin’ anything to get a taste a real man’s body once in your life--you understand that?”
Robbie nodded, and the shiver ran through them both. “Yes, sir,” he croaked out.
“I could kill you, bury your worthless corpse out here and no one would ever know. No one would care about a worthless fag like you. That means, yer only gettin’ through this if you keep me very happy--got it faggot?”
Robbie tried to speak, but Evan gripped him tighter, and all he could do was croak. Then he released him, and got out of the car, leaving Robbie heaving for breath, horrified that as terrified as he was...he was still more turned on by this than he’d ever been in his life. Evan came around, opened the truck door, grabbed Robbie by the collar of his shirt and hauled him out onto the ground. He started to get up, but Evan planted a heavy work boot on his back, “Pigs crawl in the presence of real men--understand?”
Robbie snorted in agreement, and followed Evan into his trailer. He was horrified that someone might see him...but did he really care? Anyone who looked at him could see him for what he was. He couldn’t deny it anymore, feeling his heavier gut scraping the gravel as he crawled, smelling the stench of his body around him--but it wasn’t the same as Evan’s scent. Evan...he was a real man, not like him at all. Deserving of worship. He’d...do anything for him, anything he demanded, and as humiliating as that revelation was, he couldn’t deny any of it.
The next few hours passed in a haze for them both. Evan didn’t need to encourage Robbie much further than he had, to get the fledgling pig to give up the last remnants of his self-respect, groveling on the flithy floor of the trailer, begging him to allow the pig to taste his feet, eat out his pits, and wash out his sweaty, hairy crack with his tongue. As he did, Evan felt himself warping too, loving the power of his musk, feeling his body full of strength and vitality even as Robbie seemed to grow fatter and filthier. He ended up filling the pig’s ass with his cock on the bed, making him snort and grunt and beg for more, beg him to go deeper, sealing his fate as he came--but even as the curse’s power ebbed within him, the desire to fuck didn’t. He...could go further. Push the pig further, or hell, go find another pig around here. He knew of a few assholes in the trailer park who could use a little...discipline from a real man like him. He could make a weekend of it--he could always find his way back to himself on Monday....right?