Owen put his hands greedily on Troy’s back, “You know kid, I really can’t get you outta my head. Can’t focus on my work”
Troy felt Owen’s meaty hands push into Troy’s hard back, his boss really seemed to love him. Troy couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Owen’s presence over Troy gave him full control do whatever he wanted. Owen moved up and down Troy’s body slowly, feeling the coarse rough skin, his dick moved in and out rhythmically inside the Rhox’s hole. Troy could feel himself shake and stifled a moan, trying to keep as quiet as he could. Hot air escaped from his parted lips. Owen grinned as he made Troy his complete toy.
He laughed, “Maybe I’ll call you Toy from now on instead of Troy.”
Troy couldn’t think, his legs quaked with ecstasy, he was going to cum. Owen grunted as his thrusts grew deeper and more forceful. Troy couldn’t help it, he exploded all over the barrier they were hiding behind, sticky white painting the solid concrete. Owen wasn’t far behind, letting out his own moan as he sprayed his seed inside Troy. Troy felt the rush of cum leak out his hole as Owen slowed down. Owen caught he breath, leaning down onto Troy, kissing his back repeatedly.
As Troy began to regain his focus, he looked around to make sure no one had seen them. He then saw a person over by their clothes, someone was fucking with their stuff!
Troy called out, “Hey stop it! What do you think you’re doing.?”
“Let ‘em have their fun, pervert ain’t doing nothing. And I’m not done with you yet.” Owen pulled Troy back into a tusky kiss.
The massive ogre started pounding Troy’s ass again, holding him firm so that Troy couldn’t move. Troy struggled, fighting the returning pleasure from Owen’s cock. What if someone got his book! Who was touching their stuff?
“It’s gonna be alright.” Owen nibbled on his ear, making Troy moan. “If we have to work nude, we work nude, okay?”
Troy groaned and pushed back into the thick dick ramming his donut hole. He thought he heard someone say something behind him, but whatever it was got drowned out by Owen’s heavy breathing and grunts of pleasure.
Owen was so hot and self-assured. Always had been, ever since Troy had joined the crew. He moaned as the ogre stretched his hole some more, the flesh slacking, allowing his boss to fully hilt him as memories of Owen fucking him filled his mind. His boss reached around and tweaked his nipples, making the Rhox snort and stamp his thick feet.
“God, you’re such a good fuck, Troy.” Owen grunted, hot breath on the Rhox’s neck. “You’re just a big, thick-muscled cock slut, huh?”
Troy felt the burning pleasure from behind come over his whole body. Something was wrong, but he couldn't remember. He called out to Owen for help.
"Owen, you gotta...” Troy moaned as that thick cock bumped his prostate. “Owen, please…” Troy moaned again, the ogre not slowing. “Owen…Owen…oh…fuck me…Owen!”
“I know what you want, kid, and I’m gonna give it to ya.” Owen grunted.
“Owen…” Troy said, trying to think of something, anything, but all he could think of was that thick cock rearranging his insides as he slipped further and further into moans.
Troy desperately tried to cling onto the memories in his mind as he was pushed up against the barrier protecting them. He remembered attending high school, being a small nerdy boy, masturbating every night when he got home from school.
Owen hung his gut on top of Troy's back, a heavy weight which further shackled him. Slowly the memories faded with each thrust, Owen's hot breath whipping away years of history. He was never small or nerdy or human, he was always a big, horny Rhox. And masturbate? He hadn’t needed to masturbate since he’d worked at McDonald’s at the age of sixteen and his manager, a big lion named Lancer, had plowed his ass in the walk-in one night after a month of heavy flirting.
No! That wasn’t right...he’d been human, he knew it! Someone must have taken his..his magic thing? He’d been so happy because he was finally able to be something and still have his mind, but even as he thought that, the memories began to erode away, never having happened in the first place.
Drew! He could..do stuff.. .with his Mind? No, change Minds! Erase them. So he never…never heard erase, and now he was being removed from reality! He needed to call to him to tell him to just take...whatever it was.
“Ah, please! Please!” Troy begged, trying to remember who he was supposed to ask for help, but the name escaped him, now. “O-Owen!”
“That’s right, kid, beg for it!” Owen grinned.
Troy moaned, mind feeling so strange, slower now. It was like each time Owen pulled out, more of his mind was tugged along with it. Rhox weren’t very smart, he couldn’t remember any videogames, just playing football and then working and fucking. It was too much, he couldn’t hold on anymore!
And then that big gray cock stretched his donut wide, Owen’s balls slapping his, the pain and pleasure confusing him, and pulled back out.
Why was he begging? Why was he complaining? Why was his mind anywhere but thinking about the giant ogre cock destroying his ass? He was ready. Troy wanted to submit to daddy. He wanted to be a good Rhox.
Troy clenched his ass, squeezing the shaft inside him. He was Troy, the slutty Rhox, currently Owen's bitch. Owen grunted, slammed his hips into the massive rhino man, and his massive cock spasmed once more, warmth flooding Troy’s bowels, breeding his bitch.
“Owen…” Troy moaned, cock still needy, almost on the verge but not there yet.
“Still got one last load in me for today, I think.” Owen grinned, patting his swollen balls that still hung heavy and full. “Let’s get the other boys in on it for the last round. Shiloh! David! Take break and get over here!”
The big bear and the gorilla sauntered over behind the barricade.
“Heh, how many times did ya fuck him, boss?” Shiloh asked, wiping sweat from his brow fur with a wide paw.
“Not enough. I’m good for one more. What say you?” Owen smiled.
“I’d say he looks like he needs some help.” David chuckled, cleaning his glasses with his dexterous foot before loping over to Troy.
Shiloh grabbed Troy’s huge head with a wide paw and directed it towards the grizzly’s throbbing cock. David grabbed Troy’s massive cock with his foot, his forehand going to his own dick.
Troy found himself swallowing the grizzly’s throbbing dick, enjoying the vein that pulsed on his tongue and the sweat his tongue was slurping up…
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
At the same time…
“Greetings traveler. Can I interest you in the Big Mac, or perhaps you would find your delight in sampling some of our finest McFlurries?” Lancer said.
“Um…Yeah, I’ll just have a number 6 please?” The anthro bulldog said.
“As you wish, treasured customer.” Lancer intoned, typing in the order as he’d been taught. “May I avail you of a Super Size?”
“Avail? Uh, no, just a large is fine, thanks.” The anthro bulldog stared at him with a look of confusion and mild annoyance. “And make it to go.”
Lancer turned to package the bulldog's meal when he saw his manager, Lucas, staring at him from the drive through windows. The older-bordering on old-man was glowering at him , lips a line, jowls wobbling. He was fat, hairy, and greasy. Not much of a man, in Lancer’s opinion.
Properly packaged, Lancer handed the food to the customer.
"Farewell on your journey, feast well." Lancer bowed.
The bulldog hurried off.
"Lancer!” Lucas bellowed at the top of his lungs, third chin swaying angrily. “How many times do I have to tell you? You need to smile when you serve the customers. Your demeanor is all wrong. Why do you talk like this is some great quest; It's just fast food! My office, now!"
Lancer rolled his eyes and followed his boss as he waddled into the cluttered back office.
He pretended to pay attention as the manager continued to berate him, unable to care about the man's incessant rhetoric. Was every job in this world so demanding? He thought about what it would be like to be back home where everything made more sense. Although, he lived here now. He loved Troy. It was worth it.
Suddenly Lancer's vision altered. He could feel his head spin, the office around him seeming to circle and shake. The manager, who was no longer screaming, turned pale, standing silent and firm. What was happening? Was Troy hurt? Did something happen to Troy?
He held his arm out in front of his face, trying to ground himself back to reality.
Lancer’s vision cleared and the headache subsided. He looked at his hand, which was starting to feel faint. There, he saw his fingers shimmering under the fluorescent office lights, dissipating like grains of sand on the wind. Disintegrating into nothing.
Fuck!
Lancer felt within him well a burning anger. He had tried, repeatedly, to warn Troy that it was dangerous to leave both the Books and their Owners unattended. Now Lancer was paying the price. Reality was ripping Lancer away, erasing him entirely. His hand began to quiver; it wouldn't be long.
Lancer looked around for some escape. He reached out with his arm towards the manager, who still remained motionless and unaware.
"What the fuck are you doing? Help me! Can't you see I'm dying?” Lancer pleaded.
Lancer grabbed the man, wanting to shake him senseless. He shook Lucas violently; however, he did not move. Lancer tried to pull his arm away yet found he couldn't. He pulled back, yanking the manager towards him as a consequence. Lancer inspected his hand. Or, rather, the stump of his hand. It had fully merged into the man's body.
Great.
"Wake up Lucas, get off me!" Lancer cried out.
The manager remained silent and unwavering, the only movement he saw was the rise and fall of that fat man’s pendulous breasts and the Lancer's attempts to free himself. With his other arm he pushed the man. It, too, became lodged, this time into the manager's face.
Fuck! He really messed up now.
Lancer looked at where his arm had stuck itself to the man's face. It felt as though Lancer was being drained from his stump arm, his energy siphoned into the manager. The point of connection seemed to alter the manager's face. His fat cheeks became hairy, colored the same as Lancer's own fur. His nose shifted to black as his face extended closer towards Lancer.
The manager was growing a muzzle!
What was happening? Lancer recognized the man's shifting face. It was looking similar to Lancer's own. Suddenly it occurred to Lancer how he might escape his fate of erasure. He might have to merge into this poor man's body. He looked Lucas up and down and inspected the manager's features. He was very fat, especially around his stomach and thighs. There was little muscle on arms which were dainty from years of neglect. The manager was older, borderline old.
Lancer's face filled with disgust. Was this really the only way he could save himself? He had no choice. Worse, if he waited too long, Lucas might end up the dominant personality. Lancer yanked the man forward into his body.
It was an odd sensation, like thrusting himself in a warm, bubbly bath. His senses were completely disoriented for a moment or two. Then he was seeing and breathing and his uniform wasn’t fitting quite right. A moment of vertigo struck him. He was six inches shorter, he estimated, based on where the pictures were on the wall.
He turned and saw a mirror on the back of the office door, likely to use for spying on employees while Lucas was working. Distantly, he realized, as Lucas’ memories trickled in, he realized that was exactly what he used it for. And to stare at Lancer’s bubbly ass while he was at the counter.
Lance couldn’t help but blush at the thought, his cock stirring in his weirdly loose pants. The Leonin in the mirror looked mostly like him. He was tall, muscular, though with a small beer belly and body fat rounding him out. Lucas’ body fat hadn’t done much to him. Lance sighed happily, he’d made the right choice and came out of the reality shift on top.
“Troy!” He growled, furious that his cub had almost cost him his life.
He popped his phone off its side holster and punched in the number. The call went out, the phone rang and rang. And then it went straight to voicemail.
“Dammit!” Lance shut his phone off.
Lance rubbed his temples and sat down, feeling oddly exhausted. At least he had managed to retain all his memories. He shifted, the suspenders on his pants loose and sliding down his arms. Now he had to deal with the customers by himself. He was the manager, after all. Came with the job.
He stood up on his feet, groaning, his back and knees popping. Gods, it was getting harder to move by the day! Lance paused, his brain tingling, like little tickling fingers were combing through them. The sensation was oddly delightful and his impressive cock tented his ill-fitting pants. Those tickling fingers made their way down to his cock, stroking it, his dick slowly extending down his pants. He moaned as those lovely fingers made it to his balls and they sagged heavier in their sack, drooping against his thigh.
His mind was a whir of tingles. He’d gone to war. Of course he had, he was a soldier. But the images he had of his past were altering. Shining metal plate armor became a ceramic plate armor carrier, covered in a camo pattern. The desert plains remained mostly unaltered, but a memory was teasingly inserting itself. Owen. Lance blinked as the ogre he’d caught Troy with was suddenly at the forefront of his mind.
The two of them had made Iraq the best deployment of their lives. More than a few orgies had been hosted by them. They’d become best friends, had each other’s backs in firefights, and…the tingling fingers began to gently massage his puckered tailhole. In his mind, he remembered their first kiss, the first time Owen had penetrated him. Lance yowled softly as the fingers stretched his hole, then let it fall back. Over and over, the ogre fucking his brains out, the tingly fingers simulating the penetrations. A hundred times, a thousand times in the space of seconds. His heavy cock was drooling and the flesh of his hole began to puff and loosen, the muscles growing slack, not puckering firmly.
Then, inevitably, they had gone on different paths through life. Owen used his money to buy a roadcrew and Lance had…Lance had…
The tingles intensified in his mind, fingers skittering across his form, tweaking his nipples. Lucas’ memories rose to the forefront of his memories now, that was all reality could find to insert. More pops and creaks came from his spine and he found himself rubbing his lower back, dizzy. He noticed his reflection in the mirror and frowned. His slacks now reached his padded feet. Had he shrunk?
His eyes tingled and then his reflection was blurry. Lance dug into the chest pocket of Lucas’ work uniform and pulled out a pair of glasses, setting them on the tip of his muzzle. He wondered why the human’s glasses fit so well but the thought was tickled away with a brush of electric fingers.
Lance giggled and moaned as his mind was filled with slightly tweaked version of Lucas’ memories. Years of working hard for his company and earning his way up the ranks to store manager. He burped softly, breath tasting of the McRib, and the tingles slowly stroked his stomach as it distended further, bloating, stretch marks appearing and fading away as he gained pound after pound. His gut gurgled, wobbled, then sagged heavily over his belt.
The tingles flicked and tweaked his nipples, pulling at them sensuously as they grew large and erect, areolas widening. His pecs lost their firmness, filling with fat, drooping down to come to rest on his bloating gut. Lance could see himself fattening in the mirror and wanted to do something about it, but then the tingles intensified on his ass and thighs. They swelled, straining his pants, his butt cheeks growing thick and wide, thighs so big they made it look like he had overstuffed sausages instead of haunches.
“Why…” Lance managed to gasp through the pleasant tingles shuffling through his mind.
More memories stuffed into him, the tingles increasing as wrinkles lined his forehead and crow's feet creased his eyes. His laugh lines bloated into proper jowls. Lance’s luxurious golden hair grew rough and grayed, losing its youthful vibrancy. The lion groaned as the tingles gave him more aches in his joints. Lance leaned back, shoving his belly forward to find his balance. The buttons of his dress shirt strained, gray fur leaking between the gaps, gloating more, until it finally came to a rest a few scant inches shy of popping his shirt off.
The leonin caught his pants as they began to fall, hoisting both suspenders up over his shoulders. He grunted at the effort and stared at himself in the mirror. The morbidly obese sixty-year-old leonin staring back at him seemed very familiar. He frowned as a voice in the back of his head was screaming that it was all wrong. The lines of his frown set in deep, and even when the voice faded, gave him a permanent furrowed, grumpy look. His mane and muzzle were streaked with gray, fur unkempt in places. Lance’s clothes were far too tight but he was still waiting for McDonald’s to send him the bigger size he requested.
Lance didn’t care how it made him look like a fat old slob. He was. What was more important was that his customers got delicious food fast. He scratched his gut, remembering when Troy, his Rhox boyfriend, had started working here when he was 16. Kinda dumb, total bottom. He waited until he was 8, making his moves. And now he was out making his daddy some money working for Owen. Lance called Troy ‘Daddy’s little retirement fund’, because he was planning on quitting as soon as Owen hired Troy on full time and they got married.
There was a knock on the door.
“Lance? We’ve got a rush.” The wavering voice of Kendell, the anthro lemur, said.
“Fucking get out there, then!” Lance rumbled angrily, adjusting himself and lumbering out to the counter.
On his way, he plastered a jolly smile on his face. “Hello, what can I get for you today?”
He took the order, bending over to get them a cup and grunting painfully as he did. Cold air brushed the crack of his ass and Lance realized his pants were fitting him worse every day. Blushing, he rose back up, noticing the customer discretely looking away, and growled to himself. Cock sucking customers and their stupid fucking feelings of propriety!
Why the fuck hadn’t his new outfit arrived yet? Those fucking workers back at corporate clearly weren’t doing their fucking jobs! Lance stewed angrily for the rest of the day, his smile never wavering around the customers. His employees did their best to avoid the unpleasant Leonin, knowing what he was like on his bad days, which were most days now.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Troy sighed, hide clean after the spa treatment he and the others had partaken in after work. He unlocked the door to his rather nice two-bedroom apartment and stepped in. The massive Rhox set his things down, put his uniform in the wash, and went to the kitchen to get dinner started.
“Boy.” A deep, gruff voice spoke from the darkness of the living room.
“Yes daddy?” Troy turned, the words tumbling from his mouth automatically.
Lance was sitting on his La-Z-Boy, rocking quietly. Troy could see he was still wearing his overly-tight uniform, looking like a graying, overstuffed furry sausage. He walked dutifully over to his daddy and waited for his orders.
“Undress me, boy.” Lance growled.
Something niggled in the back of Troy’s mind. Something about Lance being summoned and under his control. Something electric rippled through Troy’s mind and the Rhox's jaw went slack as that lingering memory was gently wiped away. Troy blinked and shook away the strange feeling, that was silly, his daddy wasn’t summoned, he’d do anything for him!
With his meaty blunt fingers, the Rhox painstakingly undid each and every button. Daddy would give him a spanking if he broken one. His mind tingled and his cock hardened as memories of Daddy doing just that were inserted. With the last button undone, the obese Leonin’s furry gut spilled forth from its containment, followed by a wave of sweaty musk.
Troy huffed his boyfriend’s musk for a moment before continuing down to his belt, lifting the lion’s hefty gut up to access it. He quickly undid it and found the zipper was already halfway down from the pressure. Lance groaned as the tight pants were pulled off, leaving his semi-hard cock exposed.
He wanted to linger, to put that big cock in his mouth, but Troy was busy. The Rhox unlaced the Leonin’s shoes and gently popped them off, sliding off his sweaty socks and sniffing those lovely paw pads.
“Rub me.” Lance said.
Troy nodded, heart pounding, and gently massaged his boyfriend’s sore and tired paws, thumbs whorling around the muscles and working at the tendons. Lance moaned happily above him, the start of a loud, rumbly purr filling the room. Troy kept pressing his thumbs firmly into the lion’s thick, calloused paw-pads, the Leonin’s claws popping out on reflex. The Rhox licked his lover’s feet firmly, cleaning all the musk from them and lapping between his toebeans.
“Enough.” Lance gasped. “Come sit on daddy’s lap.”
The big Rhox stood and lifted his rear end, carefully positioning himself and lowering himself onto his daddy’s thick spire. It slid in easily, his hole thoroughly loosened by the day’s events. He was thicker than Owen, so Troy still found his pucker stretched firmly by Lance’s thick, veiny cock.
“OoohhhMmmmfff…!” Troy groaned as the cock bumped his prostate. Daddy was so thick!
“Mhmm, tell me about it.” Lance growled, pulling the Rhox further back onto his cock.
“Ooooh, fuck!” Troy grunted, then gasp as the cock twitched and slid a few more inches inside of him. “Ah! Ah!”
“Mhmm, good dick, huh?” Lancer pursed his lips, enjoying the warmth and moistness of his boy’s hole. Then he pulled the Rhox all the way back, hilting him on his thick dick.
“Lancfjsdfdsf, It’s so, it’s so…it’s ghrf!” Troy babbled, eyes rolling up in his head as his daddy fucked him right.
“I know, I know,” Lance licked his lips, bucking and rolling his hips, shoving his dick deep. “You like that, son?”
“Mmrmmmf!” Troy groaned, sagging and clenching on the massive cock as it reamed him out.
“Mmmm. That's what daddy likes to hear.” Lance growled, thrusting harder and harder.
Troy could barely breath, just clench and spasm his hole rhythmically around his daddy’s girth. He was bigger than Owen, and much more experienced. The Rhox was so happy he’d met his daddy!.
With a grunt, daddy’s cock flexed and Troy moaned as his insides were flooded with warmth. His own cock unloaded, untouched. Being bred by daddy was all he needed to get off, now. The only thing he could get off to, really.
Troy lay back, enjoying the cushion of daddy’s belly on his back, before the big cat slapped his back, indicating for him to get off. They sat on the couch together, leaning into each other, before daddy fell asleep. Troy lifted his snoozing lover up and carried him to the dirty bed. Daddy would wake up, shower, and join him in the clean bed.