The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Apartment Hunting

May 2009

mc / mm

Henry had lived alone in the same apartment for years, but his rent had gone up enough—and his job had taken enough of a turn for the worse, and he didn’t have a girlfriend helping to pay the rent these days—he was finally forced to look for another place to stay. He flipped through the classifieds every day and found a few places to look at, but none had yet suited him. Living with a roommate was going to be tough, he knew, but the places he’d found were especially bad. He figured he had enough slack he could look around for a while before funds got really tight.

But things just didn’t seem to get any better. Finally, it bottomed out one day when he showed up to one place and it was nothing like the description. The guy who opened the door couldn’t have been more than 22, freckled with pale blue eyes, but the pretty boy looks ended there. The rest of him was a mop of half-bleached punk hair, a tank top, out-of-control armpit hair, a pair of too-tight jeans, and a general aroma that suggested he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in a very long time. Henry hesitantly shook his hand.

“Hey, man, I’m Diego,” the punk kid said, grinning at him. “Come on in.”

“Uh, hey, I’m Henry,” he replied, trying mostly to figure out how he could quickly escape.

Henry let himself be led into the filthiest apartment he’d ever seen. He just tried to hold his breath as long as he could while they toured a kitchen with a sink piled so high with dishes they were overflowing onto the ground, with dried and rotting food in them still, old pizza boxes stacked on the countertops, half-empty beer cans lying around everywhere, spills on the floor, the whole room sticky with residue and decaying food.

They went into the bathroom where the shower was, indeed, out of service, the toilet and sink obviously hadn’t been cleaned in an incredibly long time, and the mirror was crusted with dried toothpaste and other miscellaneous dried fluids.

“And this is my room, Henry,” Diego said, leading him into a room that smelled like Diego himself, only it was pervasive, the stench of old body odor, crotch sweat, armpit stink, and unwashed underwear wafting out from every corner, every wall. Henry almost gagged just standing in there.

“Oh, OK, Diego. Hey, man, I think I’m gonna take off, this isn’t really what I’m looking for.”

“What? Come on, man, you didn’t even see where your room would be.”

“No, I don’t need to, Diego, this just isn’t really my style, man. It’s cool, but I’m gonna go.”

“Oh, no way, dude, that’s the best part! Don’t you want to see your room?”

“I really don’t, Diego, I mean, I’m gonna take off. Catch you later.”

“Henry, man, come on, what don’t you like about the place? It’s perfect! You gotta tell me, man, you can’t just jet without at least giving me some reasons.”

Henry was fed up, and his temper got the better of him. “Oh, yeah? You wanna know why I don’t want to live here? You fucking serious?”

“Yeah! Yeah, come on, I want to fucking know, dude!” Diego shouted back, egging him on, angry himself.

“This place is fucking disgusting,” Henry began, “It’s foul, and every single room is a mess, I don’t even know how you live here. Actually, check that, I do know, because you’re disgusting, too. You smell awful and look like you never shower. Honestly, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Diego nodded slowly and grinned. “Cool, man, thanks for being honest. Do me a favor, though?”

Henry, now uncomfortable after yelling at this stranger, awkwardly paused. “Uh, what’s that?”

“Just ask me where you’d sleep.”

“Uh, OK, Diego, where would I sleep?”

Diego’s grin widened and took on a kind of wicked quality to it. He stood there, grinning maliciously at Henry for long enough Henry became uncomfortable. After what might have been a full minute but felt like an hour Henry was just ready to turn to leave when Diego spoke up.

“You sleep wherever I tell you to, man. Now get down on your knees.”

Henry’s legs buckled and he cried out in pain as his knees hit the ground with a thud. “Ow! What—what the fuck?”

Diego’s grin got even wickeder as he held his hands out and spread his fingers, moving them alternately up and down. As he did, Henry’s arms limply flapped up and down in time, loosely, like a scarecrow. Diego’s eyes took on a crazy gleam as he snickered aloud. “Puppet, puppet, Henry.”

“What the fuck is going on? How are you doing—what’s happening to me?”

“Henry, Henry, Henry, don’t you get it, Henry? You’re my little slaaaaaaaave, Henry, don’t you get it? Slave, Henry Henry, slaaaaave! You walked into the trap, you came into my house, and now you’re miiiine, Henry. I’m a little hurt you called me disgusting, Henry, Henry, Henry, slave Henry. But I’m also confused, because it seems to me you’re the disgusting one. You’re the one that wants to lick my crotch.”

As he said this, Diego had sidled forward until his jean-clad crotch was actually touching Henry’s face, but to Henry’s horror, he found that he couldn’t so much as lean away. “God, dude, you fucking reek!” Henry exclaimed, but as the words left his mouth a thought entered his mind: He really wanted to lick Diego’s nasty crotch.

Just as soon as it had popped into his head, it was gone, and Henry was shocked at himself. Where had that come from? But he was even more shocked when his lips parted and his tongue extended out from between his parted lips, slowly but steadily, its whole length finally pressed against the filthy, ripe denim of Diego’s jeans crotch.

Henry started licking, dragging his tongue up the denim-clad crotch, and tasting the funk of months of ball-sweat soaked into the denim as it now soaked into his tongue. He started gagging but still couldn’t stop.

“Ohmm Gaa, sthop ith!” Henry cried, unable to retract his tongue even to speak, “Wha ah you doing?” Finally he gave up and just began screaming incoherently.

“I’m not doing anything, Henry. You’re licking my crotch, and you look like you’re really enjoying yourself.”

“Buuh I’m nah even gay!!”

Diego started laughing, sounding more than a little crazed. “Oh, Henry, Henry, that doesn’t matter. You just do whatever I say now, so if I tell you to cum in your pants, well, when you do it, does that make you gay?”

As Diego said the words, Henry’s eyes shot wide open as he felt his dick, still totally soft, pump a load of cum right into his pants. He convulsed but never removed his tongue from Diego’s crotch nor got up off his knees. Moaning aloud, he then began to cry in confusion and shock at his predicament.

Diego just laughed harder. “Oh, Henry, don’t cry, it’s OK. I’ll take good care of you. You’ll be the filthiest piggy slave imaginable! Now, stop licking my crotch.”

Henry’s tongue shot back in his mouth and he gagged, hard, ready to vomit from the taste.

“No puking, Henry,” Diego shot at him, sternly, seeing his retching. “You can never puke, Henry, do you understand?”

Horrified and desperately afraid of Diego, Henry nonetheless found himself unable to do anything but open his mouth and say “Yes.” And the urge to vomit passed instantly. “Come on, man,” he continued, now able to speak, “Please, dude, let me go, I promise I won’t say anything, I’ll just go.”

“Henry, Henry, Henry. I’m not going to let you go! I caught you fair and square, lured you like a fly into my web, and now I have you, so finders keepers! I get to keep you, Henry, and you’re my toy, my slave, my little piggy.”

At this, Henry snapped and started babbling, only barely coherently. “Oh God, please, no, let me go I swear I’m not gay I’m no piggy no no no please”—Henry began to sob and through his choking sobs continued.

“Henry?” Diego interrupted him. Henry’s voice abandoned him mid-sob and he fell silent. “Henry? Oink oink, Henry.”

Henry stared into Diego’s beautiful, deranged eyes as his mind began to gush. His mouth fell open wider and wider in shock and terror as thoughts, dark thoughts, flooded and consumed his mind. Tears began streaming down his face as he felt them take hold, like thin, silk strings tied around his limbs, like hooks driven into his mind, making him Diego’s marionette.

And just like that, Henry lost his free will. He felt a steady stream of Diego’s thoughts pouring into his mind without Diego so much as uttering a word, and those thoughts were imperatives, they were commands, telling him what to do. Henry felt like a crazy person, a schizophrenic hearing voices but he found himself powerless to resist.

Henry reached up and unbelted and unbuttoned Diego’s pants. He peeled the jeans off of Diego’s sticky, filthy underwear. He retched, but couldn’t even consider vomiting, as he thrust his nose between the denim folds and up against the stained yellow cotton to draw a deep inhalation.

Diego, driving Henry’s actions with his thoughts, was nonetheless quite capable of speaking. “What are you doing? That’s disgusting, man, you like sniffing a dude’s dirty undies? God, that’s fucking gross. What kind of pig are you?”

Henry tried to reply but when he opened his mouth he found instead an incredible desire to just make snorting noises, like a pig. He drew his lips into a comical purse, pushing his upper lip forward and drawing his nose down to better make snorting, oinking noises, and so he did, as he smelled Diego’s crotch, oinking like the best little piggy he could.

“Ha, I guess you are a pig! I thought you came here because you wanted to rent a room but apparently you came here to live out your life-long urge to be a filthy fucking pig.”

Henry heard the words and in his mind he started fighting Diego’s control even harder. He didn’t want to stay here! He just came here from a Craigslist ad! He had a list in the car right outside for the other places to go to today!!

Diego let him fight and laughed aloud. “Piggy piggy! You’re not convinced yet? Still fighting? Let me show you something.”

With a seeming mind of their own, Henry’s hands reached up and peeled, with an audible sucking noise, the filthy briefs back and down and slid them and the jeans to the floor. Diego’s soft dick flopped out, the uncut head pointing directly at Henry’s face. The stench was overpowering, and again Henry retched. But the retching ended soon, and Henry oinked a few times more and then, slowly, horrified but trapped inside his own head, thrust his face forward to press his nose and mouth between Diego’s cock and balls and his thigh.

“Mmm, good piggy, gonna get it allllllllll clean for Diego.”

Henry slid his tongue out of his mouth and dragged it upwards, sandwiched between the moist, sour, sticky, funky skin of Diego’s thigh and his balls.

“Yeah, piggy, you love it,” Diego moaned.

Maybe Diego’s concentration was decreased by his arousal, or maybe it was the sheer humiliation of those words, but in any case at that moment Henry was able to finally break through, just a little, from his control.

“No,” he spoke, softly, then louder, “No, no, I don’t!”

Diego stopped, his cock deflating back to fully soft, and looked down at Henry with anger flashing in his eyes. Henry’s small victory wasn’t enough to let him actually get up and move, and Diego reached down and grabbed his head in both his hands and turned his eyes to stare into his own.

“What? What did you say?”

Henry, just as furious, opened his mouth, and said spitefully, “No, I don’t love it. Let me go!”

Diego’s lips peeled back in anger, showing his teeth, and his eyes became slits. “Yes you do. Yes you do. You love it.” Then louder, shouting at him, Diego’s face went red from the strain and with each word, he spat out a mist of saliva onto Henry’s face, ”YES YOU DO!! YOU FUCKING LOVE IT! YOU LOVE IT! YOU LOVE IT, YOU FUCKING PIG!!

Inside Henry’s skull it felt like his brain was being pounded into mush with a hammer. Diego pushed harder and harder and utterly overwhelmed Henry’s feeble resistance. Henry sat, stunned, barely able to process the barrage, and then Diego, squeezing his head tightly in his hands, shoved Henry’s face back into his crotch.

Henry was utterly revolted, still, but now there was an itching, deep inside his head, all throughout his body, a compulsion, a need. Henry started licking eagerly. When he smelled Diego’s balls, he felt blissful relief from the horrible itching. When he tasted Diego’s rancid sweat, when he really sucked at the rank, matted hair on Diego’s thighs and balls, he knew how dogs felt when their masters scratched behind their ears. He loved it. He loved it so much. And at the same time, he was utterly revolted. But he couldn’t stop.

Something flashed in his mind, some objection. Where was he? Was he supposed to be doing this? But then he felt Diego stomp on that flicker of a thought and everything was back to how it was supposed to be.

“Oh God,” he said, finally coming up for air, “This is so fucking gross, this is so nasty, man, please make it stop.”

“Henry,” Diego said, his smile sweet as a child’s but his eyes still crazy as an asylum patient, “Only you can make it stop. You know how to do it.”

“No, no, Diego, man, that’s not what I mean—make it stop, take the itching away, get it out of my head!”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re talking about, Henry. But I like you with your new compulsions. And you’ll like them too, soon enough. Of course it feels awful to itch, Henry. But it feels so good to scratch!”

“I don’t want to scratch, I don’t want to itch, I just want to go home, I want to go back to my life.”

“Henry, here you are, on the floor, face right in my balls where you should be. This is your life, Henry. You’re a dirty, filthy piggy, Henry. You’re right where you ought to be.”

Henry wanted to object but his body was on fire, his mind was crying out for relief. He couldn’t keep resisting for much longer, he needed to feed the urge. Slowly he started to sniff the air, and the foul smell of Diego’s bedroom called to him, it soothed his agony, and so he inhaled even more deeply.

Involuntarily Henry curled his lips back again and snorted, ever so slightly, and as he did his cock started hardening in his pants, sticky with his cum, and it felt even better, relieving for just an instant his incessant need. He oinked again, louder this time, and for longer, and it felt like heaven. And so over the next few minutes, without even really processing what he was doing, Henry kept snorting, louder and louder, getting more and more into it, thrusting his pelvis involuntarily as his cock hardened in his pants, and started crawling around on the floor on all fours, searching for the dirty clothes that smelled the strongest. Diego stood and watched, grinning ear-to-ear, his cock growing steadily harder the whole time.

Finally Henry found a pile of laundry that smelled like Diego used it as urinal. It was stained all manner of vile shades of yellow and brown and Henry thought he could actually see a miasma coming off of it, the stink was so powerful. The closer he got the more revolted he was, but the more he smelled it, the more it relieved the awful, unbearable buzzing itching agony deep inside.

“Oh, God,” Henry blurted aloud, between his oinking, “God, this is—snort—so fucking—snort—disgusting!” He kept crawling towards the pile, making thrusting, humping motions with his hips as he neared it.

“Yeah, piggy, it’s fucking gross. Give in!” Diego egged him on.

“No, I have to stop, I have to make myself stop.” Henry’s face was a mask of revulsion, his lips curled down in an expression of deep aversion and his eyes squeezed shut and whole head turned aside just as far as he could summon the will to look away.

“Up to you, dirty piggy slave, but it’s going to feel really good if you just give in and scratch that itch. Come on, piggy, let it take over. Give into it. Stop thinking so much, piggy.” Diego was leering at the struggling Henry, enjoying his torment.

But Henry’s will won out yet again. “No!” With a decisive motion he stood up and, face twisted in furious determination, he ran as fast as he could out of the apartment.

Henry got in his car before he could have second thoughts, turned it on, and drove away as fast as he could.

And the further he got, the better he felt. Maybe it was just a proximity thing. Maybe Diego’s hold on him weakened as he drove away. Whew, what a nightmare! Henry sighed with relief and began shaking from the trauma of what he’d just experienced. Well, nothing else to do but just keep on with his day. That seemed like the best way to shake the whole thing, and anyway he did still have to find a new apartment.

Henry drove clear across town to the furthest of the apartments he’d written down. He showed up and knocked and a much more normal-looking man answered. Henry breathed a sigh of relief as he walked into the house and the owner started to show him around.

“I’m really happy to find such a nice place,” Henry said, “I’ve seen some... well, some pretty bad apartments today, let’s just say.” He shuddered a bit at the recollection.

“Oh, yeah, I know what you mean—that’s why I bought this place originally, I couldn’t find a place I was willing to rent otherwise!”

“OK, well, let me fill out an application,” Henry said, “But first could I possibly use your bathroom?”

The man showed him to the bathroom and Henry went in and shut the door.

He turned to sit down on the toilet, but as he was lowering his pants, he noticed the toilet water was bright yellow—that man must have taken a piss and forgotten to flush.

Henry thought nothing of it, and lowered his pants all the way. As he did, he inadvertently grabbed the crotch of his underwear, soaked with his cum. And at that moment, he caught the faintest whiff of the piss in the toilet bowl.

It felt like someone had driven an ice pick straight between Henry’s eyes. The pain was excruciating as it returned with a vengeance, the itch unscratched now for well over an hour. Gasping for air, Henry fell to his knees over the toilet bowl with his pants down and inhaled deeply. The smell of the stale urine brought the shrieking agony in his head down to a somewhat duller roar, but it was nowhere near satisfied. His face now a grimace of utter disbelief and horror, Henry lifted the toilet seat with one hand and lowered his face into the bowl.

Gotta scratch that itch. Gotta smell it. Gotta taste it. Henry stuck his tongue out, his mind on fire with the dueling forces of his own revulsion and his newfound deep, ferocious need, but when his tongue broke the surface and he tasted the days-old piss, his revulsion—fighting fiercely though it was—lost to the itching. Henry started lapping at the piss like a cat, then, pumping his pelvis forward, humping the air, wiping his dripping, hard cock haphazardly against the porcelain of the outside of the dirty toilet bowl, he clutched the toilet in both hands and dipped his face in further so his whole mouth was in the piss.

Henry started sucking the piss directly into his mouth, making a slurping, gurgling sound as he did, and then stopping when he had desperately to inhale, snorting like a pig as he did, since it made him feel better to do so.

The owner of the house knocked at the bathroom door, finally. “Is everything OK in there?”

Henry’s mind flew into a panic but he couldn’t tear himself away from the vile toilet full of the piss that was so marvelously soothing the aching in his skull. He kept drinking.

Another knock, louder this time. “What’s going on in there?”

Henry tried to shout something but it just came out as a loud, muffled wet gurgling through the piss.

“That’s it,” he heard from the outside, and then the knob rattled and finally the owner forced the door open. As he did, Henry rushed to drink up the last of the piss in the bowl.

“What the fuck?” The owner cried out, “You are fucking disgusting!!”

At the words, Henry’s already hard cock swelled up the final bit to bursting and he moaned aloud.

“Oh yeah,” he moaned, “Oh yeah, so fucking disgusting, so fucking disgusting!” Henry blasted the toilet and the floor with ropes of jizz as the owner watched, horrified.

“Holy shit,” the owner said, shaking his head in stunned, wide-eyed disbelief, “You have to get the fuck out of here right now.”

“No, no, no, no, no, please please please!” Henry cried, mortified and humiliated as the man grabbed him by the neck and lifted him like a rag doll, pants still around his ankles. “Let me explain!”

“There is absolutely fucking nothing to explain—you are getting the fuck out and I never want to see you ever again!” And with that, the man threw Henry bodily out of his house onto the driveway and slammed the door.

Henry stood up and pulled up his pants, shaking with shame at what he’d just done. Spotting other neighbors out watching him, he ran to his car—before, he hoped, they’d really had a chance to remember his face.

Once he’d buckled up and started the engine, Henry fought the urge, but knew where he was going to go.

“Oh no, no, no no no no” he cried aloud, to himself, to the empty cabin of his car, “No no, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, I have to stop!”

But when his thoughts turned to Diego’s apartment, to the piles of filthy laundry, to the absolute squalor Diego lived in, Henry started breathing in short pants, and his cock got hard again in his pants.

“Oh yeah,” he said, in a voice he didn’t entirely recognize, huskier, lower than his plaintive whine, “Oh yeah, so fuckin’ hot, I gotta get back there, gotta get there, gotta smell it, gotta taste it, so disgusting, so nasty.”

As he drove, well above the posted limits, Henry’s moaning and words gave way to oinking, his lips thrust out and curled back in his best imitation, snorting loudly in his car while he groped his wet crotch with his free hand.

Finally he made it back to Diego’s, and walking up to the door his chest was heaving from the exertion. In his head, Henry was resisting with all his might in his terror, but the dirty smile spreading across his face as he snorted and oinked with every step betrayed him. The itch deep inside was very strong, and Henry needed to scratch it.

Diego answered the door with a lock of mock surprise. “Henry! Wow, I really didn’t ever expect to see you again. What can I do for you?”

Henry smelled Diego and his urge went into overdrive. “Come on, Diego, you have to make it stop, please, make it stop,” he pleaded.

“Oh, Henry. You know only you can make it stop. Do you want to come in? Is that what you’re asking me?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on, Diego, oh God Diego I gotta make it stop.”

Diego smiled but didn’t move to open the door any further. “Gosh, Henry, I don’t know, you were pretty rude how you left earlier, just running out like that. I’m not sure I really want to let you back in.”

Henry’s itch grew stronger as he caught a whiff of Diego’s armpit stink and his need grew to fever pitch. “Come on, Diego, come on, let me in!!”

“Let me get this straight—you told me earlier how disgusting I was, and how gross my apartment was, and how badly you wanted to get out. Why do you want to come back in?” Diego grinned, reveling in the tortured expression on Henry’s face.

“I need it,” Henry whined, rubbing his legs together in the door like a dog needing to piss, “I need it, I want to come back in, gotta smell it, gotta taste it.”

“So you’re asking to come back into my apartment, of your own volition, under no duress from me. You want to come in here, that’s what you’re saying.”

Henry heard his words and felt sick to his stomach. No, he didn’t want to go back in. That place was Hell on Earth, a nightmare, a horrible trap. And he knew Diego gave him his horrible compulsion, and he hated him for it. But even knowing all that, the itch was too great. “Yes,” Henry said, “Yes, I want to come back inside.”

Diego grinned his evil, crazed grin, and stepped aside, gesturing with a sweep of his hand to Henry, who wasted no time dashing inside. Diego turned and shut the door and then stared down at Henry, already on the floor sniffing the ground for any relief it might get him.

“I told you,” Diego began, smiling cruelly, “I told you I got you, bitch. And I told you I wasn’t going to let you go. I told you I’d turn you into a filthy pig slave. Look at you. You’re all mine, now. Hey, Henry, how long has it been since you ate? Aren’t you hungry?”

Henry looked up at Diego in horror but followed him nonetheless on all fours as Diego casually walked into the kitchen and nudged a pizza box off the floor with his foot. It hardly moved, stuck as it was to the ground, but Henry scampered over to the box, his hands and knees sticky against the filthy kitchen floor, and opened the box.

Inside was an entire pizza, the most disgusting pizza Henry had ever seen. It had clearly once been something like a meat lover’s, and now the pepperoni were curled and dry, the sausage lumpy and gleaming with congealed oil, and the crust, sauce, and cheese had merged into one gelatinous, oily blob. It smelled foul and looked decidedly unlike food.

“What the fuck? How old is this?” Henry’s exposure to the rancid pizza had let him momentarily return to his senses. The itching in his head was growing stronger, though.

“What do you care?” Diego shot back, dismissively, “You’re a fucking pig. Pigs eat whatever.”

The itching in Henry’s head rose to an intolerable buzzing with Diego’s words and he turned back with a despairing shake of his head. As he reached one hand out and just grabbed a fistful of the decaying, grease-soaked pizza, his eyes defocused and he stared into the distance as he stuffed the weeks-old pizza into his open mouth. As he did he moaned through it.

“Mmmmpph,” he cried, “Fuckkkkk! Awwww, so fuckin’ gross!”

“Yeah, you are,” Diego noted with a smirk, “You’re so fucking gross.”

Henry didn’t even need the encouragement anymore. He started bucking his hips up and down against the slimy kitchen floor as he dove face-first into the box of disgusting old pizza and started hungrily slurping it up, filling the kitchen with snorting, slurping and smacking noises on top of his moaning.

When he’d finished, Henry looked up, panting, eyes wide in disbelief at what he’d just done. Diego just smiled. “Hey, Henry, I’ve got some dessert for you.”

Henry didn’t hesitate a moment, hurrying back out into the living room where Diego casually sat down and thrust his feet out at the pathetically eager Henry, degrading himself eagerly to temporarily cool the burning itching inside. Henry yanked one sneaker off and even with his enthusiasm, involuntarily turned his head aside with a grimace at the unbearable odor of Diego’s socked foot. The sock was variously yellowed and grayed, but clearly hadn’t been changed anytime recently. Henry turned back, visibly steeling himself for the task, and then that same dirty smile crept across his face.

“Gotta smell it,” he whispered to himself, “Gotta taste it. So fucking disgusting, oh yeah, it’s so fucking nasty.”

And with that, Henry opened his mouth and took all of Diego’s socked toes into his mouth at once. Henry started gagging and moaning in revulsion at the disgusting flavor, but also reached one hand down his pants to stroke his cock as his hormones reacted to the soothing relief in his head.

Henry raised his head and with a hungry, dirty sneer, yanked the sock of Diego’s foot. Underneath the sock Diego’s feet were even more foul, hairy toes with months of toe jam between them, sweat dried and caked on them, toenails yellowed from neglect. But Henry was on a roll.

“Fuck, man, so fucking nasty, fuck yeah,” was all he said before he started snorting and then thrust his nose and mouth up against Diego’s foot. He started thrusting his tongue out, licking each toe and scooping the toe jam out from between them and swallowing it greedily, filling his pants with cum multiple times in the process. By the end, Diego’s foot was fresh and clean with Henry’s saliva, and Henry’s mouth smelled like a forgotten gym bag.

Diego just smiled and extended the other foot. Henry humped the ground while he obligingly cleaned that foot just as well.

While Henry was enjoying licking and sucking Diego’s filthy feet, Diego turned on the TV and was watching some nasty porn. Henry turned to look occasionally, but the itching would start up quickly so he went back to his work. When he’d finished with Diego’s feet he looked up expectantly, quickly become uncomfortable as the deep, itching need reasserted itself.

Diego just looked down casually. “Oh, you’re done? Cool, you fucking pig, I gotta take a piss.”

Henry smiled eagerly and unzipped Diego’s filthy jeans again, fished around in his sticky yellowed briefs and pulled out his hardening cock, and then without a moment’s hesitation locked his lips around the shaft. No sooner had he closed his lips in a ring than Diego let loose. Henry started gulping furiously and the sound of his frenzied gulping with the hissing noise of Diego’s piss spraying into his mouth made Diego smile down at him.

For Henry it was a potent experience. The piss he’d drank out of the other house’s toilet was diluted with water. This was straight from the source, and Diego’s piss was especially rank. Henry managed to gulp it all down without spilling a drop, and as he came up off Diego’s cock he started snorting like a pig to help put himself over the edge to have another orgasm.

“OK, pig, from now on I only want you wearing those briefs so there’s something to catch your jizz. Otherwise, strip.”

Henry hurried to strip off the rest of his clothes and was finally just wearing a pair of Hanes white briefs, now stained repeatedly in the front with his copious loads.

“Good boy, piggy. Now, I haven’t had a shower in a while because I got rid of my last slave months ago. So you’re going to take off my clothes and clean me off with your piggy tongue.”

Henry didn’t need to be told twice. He stripped Diego’s clothing off and the hairy punk’s stinking body odors made Henry’s cock leak in his baggy, wet briefs.

Henry was still, of course, unbelievably revolted at what he was doing. It’s just that the feeling of scratching that itch was so unbelievably wonderful that he could hardly convince himself to stop for even a moment. It no longer really registered with him that Diego was, of course, the source of that itching. It was too strong, too compelling. Henry only really had time to think, when he finished licking one body part clean, about which one would scratch the itch best next.

Henry shoved his face right into one of Diego’s armpits, sour with stale sweat and rank and musky, and started drooling all over it to get it as wet and slick as possible so he could lick it out clean. He loved the filthy armpit hair, warm in his mouth as he sucked it all clean. When he finished that one he moved on to the next. Diego lay back, grinning and chuckling to himself, occasionally taunting Henry.

“Fuck, man, that’s so nasty, you like that shit? You like licking out my pits?”

Henry just got harder and moaned and oinked and snorted like a mindless animal.

“God, you’re so fucking filthy, you filthy fucking pig.”

Henry nodded in agreement as he munched on Diego’s armpit hair. “Yeah, fuck yeah, filthy fucking pig.” Then he went back to snorting loudly and thrusting his pelvis against the couch.

Finally Diego’s entire front side was entirely cleaned off, and Henry’s mouth smelled like a clogged toilet. And then Diego just smiled and rolled over.

“Time to scratch that itch in a big way, piggy.”

Staring up at Henry were the two full, round cheeks of Diego’s ass. They were covered each in a thick coat of hair, and where they met the crack was a dark, furry crevasse. Henry traced them with his eyes down to Diego’s legs, where each cheek ended in a curved crease. And at the very bottom center, right where the crack of Diego’s ass met the crease against his legs, Henry’s eyes came to rest. He felt himself gravitating down towards that spot, that dark hairy crease right at the bottom of Diego’s ass crack.

As his face approached Diego’s ass, he felt the heat of his skin radiating against his face. He could feel the humidity, the moisture of Diego’s ass-sweat rising off of his skin like steam. And then Henry inhaled.

The smell of Diego’s ass, even from a foot away, was ripe and pungent. It was intense, more intense than anything Henry had smelled or tasted yet. Henry shuddered, revolted all the more, but it was scratching his itch like never before, and Henry felt that all-over warmth and tingling melting his will away as he lowered his face to the grotesque young man’s filthy ass.

The moist, scratchy hair was the first thing to touch Henry’s face. He pushed into a dense thicket of stinking, dripping hair with his face as he approached the dirty skin of Diego’s ass-cheeks. As the tip of his nose first pressed into the soft flesh of Diego’s cheeks, Henry felt sick to his stomach, but then continued pushing forward until his face was enveloped, like being smothered by two pillows that had been picked up off the floor of a public bathroom, warm and wet and filthy.

“Eat it up, piggy,” Diego encouraged, laughing. Henry’s cock grew hard at the words and he thrust his tongue out blindly into the stinking butt enveloping his entire face.

Diego’s ass was ripe and tangy on Henry’s tongue as he licked and licked. Diego ground his ass back against Henry’s face and Henry licked for everything he was worth. Inside, Henry’s body was on fire with the blissful orgasmic relief of giving in and scratching the itch.

“Oh, by the way, Henry, I wanted to let you know one thing,” Diego began.

Henry tried to ask what, but only managed to make a snorting noise from inside Diego’s stinking ass-crack.

“I know it’s hard not to scratch that itch, but every time you scratch it, it gets stronger. That’s how it works. If you keep scratching it soon it’ll get so bad all you’ll be able to do is scratch it every waking minute of the day. I just wanted to tell you, so you’d know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t stop. Not that I think you could stop. But you know how you can still see what’s going on and try to fight it? Soon even that’ll go away and you’ll just be a big, dumb animal. Your mind will eventually just blink right out like a light, and after that, it’ll just be snorting piggy noises and depravity and filthiness and cumming in your underwear and serving my every depraved desire.”

Henry heard the words and inside his head knew they were true. They terrified him, because they made him want to stop all the more, and he was trying, like pulling on the reins of a runaway horse as hard as he could, but the urges were too strong, and even as he panicked, he kept licking Diego’s dirty butt.

“Henry, you’re being awfully quiet. I want to know how you feel about all this. Is that what you want? You want to be a big dumb animal? You want to be a disgusting nasty piggy slut? Are you looking forward to all your higher brain functions dying off so you can be my dirty pet?”

Henry flailed in his head against the mental bondage Diego had subjected him to. The best he managed to do was to start sobbing while still licking Diego’s ass like a foul, shit-flavored lollipop.

“Why are you crying? Is that a yes? Yes, you want to be my brainless piggy slob?”

“No,” gasped Henry, through his licking, through his sobs, “Oh God, no, please, I don’t want this, I want to stop, I want my life back, I’m just a normal guy.”

“Gee, Henry, then you should probably stop licking my ass. Because if you don’t, within just a few minutes, your mind will be completely destroyed and you’ll live out the rest of your life as my pig slave.”

“But I can’t, I can’t, I want to stop but I can’t, I have to lick it, it hurts so bad when I don’t.” Through his tears and words Henry was still dragging his increasingly filthy tongue through Diego’s still quite nasty ass crack.

“Oh, because if I were you and I really didn’t want to turn into a slave forever, I’d put up with the pain and stop,” Diego teased, knowing full well the grip he had on Henry.

Henry just sobbed all the harder, the sobs shaking his whole body. As he kept licking feverishly, the urge to keep debasing himself grew, and he could feel it, like a fat passenger sitting in an adjacent airplane seat, the depravity and itching grew, slowly squeezing him out of his own head. The glimpses of clarity were coming less and less often, and his revulsion was giving way slowly to pure abandon.

“No, no, no!!” Henry screamed one last time as he took an especially large lick of Diego’s ass. The tip of his tongue found Diego’s tight asshole, and the horny, itch-compelled depravity now controlling most of his mind probed his tongue against the hole, finally driving just the tip inside his rectum.

The inside of Diego’s ass was even dirtier than the outside. As Henry felt his tongue push its way into Diego’s hole, the last barriers in his mind crumbled, and the last vestiges of rational thought left his brain.

Diego just smiled, and then said, aloud, “Henry?” When he got no response he asked again. “Henry? Henry, do something if you can hear me.”

When he finally got no response, he grinned wide and rolled over so he could see his new pig slave. “Is that all you are now?” he asked, of the glazed-eyed, dirty, naked man on all fours on top of him, still convulsing as he filled his saggy briefs with another load, “Are you my pig slave now?”

What used to be Henry just curled its lip back one more time, with a dirty sneer, and oinked, loud.

Diego laughed. “Good, because that was fun and all, but I really want to fuck. Let’s go in the bedroom, piggy.”