Pretty (full text) (Patreon)

*** I posted a chunk of this as a vignette the other week while it was in process, and I finally had a chance to give it a proper beginning and ending.  Enjoy! ***

Reeve’s heart thundered in his chest, the frantic pulse beating loud against his ears.  He worried that the rapid-fire throb was like a blaring horn against the unnatural stillness of the nighted forest.  His heaving breath and desperate, crashing flight only added to his concern.  The nocturnal hum that normally wafted through the dense trees was entirely absent, replaced by an otherworldly silence.  No buzzing insects.  No calling owls or skittering rodents.  Only the echoing sounds of his terrified scrambling through the inky darkness.

The handsome blonde had already ricocheted off several trees seen too late, and had stumbled through spiderwebbing patches of thorns that lurked invisible in the darkness.  The scant remains of his shirt hung in a loose, shredded mess off his leanly muscled torso, and his pants weren’t faring any better.  Under different circumstances Reeve would have enjoyed the warm evening air caressing his bare skin, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d worked up a sweat in a nighted forest.  Though he usually did so with a buxom woman beneath him, not fleeing a hideous monster that was hot on his heels.  Now, the sweat wasn't a reminder of a pleasant midnight romp but a sign of his impending doom, and it stung like a horde of bees as it trickled across the countless lacerations peppering his otherwise smooth skin.

Reeve had always known that this day would come sooner or later.  As opposed to joining the Royal Guard or settling down to start a family and tend a farm like most young men in their early twenties, the virile stud had chosen instead to travel the kingdom, sampling as many of its women as possible.  It was his passion.  He told himself he was no different than anyone else who learned a trade or picked up an instrument; only in his case the trade was sex and the instrument was his body.  Reeve was convinced that his striking features, his dreamy eyes, high cheekbones, distinguished nose, and soft, full lips, were a sign.  Unlike his weathered and rugged peers, the beautiful blonde was unblemished, with a lean, shredded frame and a thick cock that made it seem as if Fate itself was saying, “Yes! Go forth and fuck!”

He was only too happy to listen.  Reeve had thrust his way from one end of the kingdom to the other, his acquired skills garnering quite the reputation, and it wasn’t uncommon for women to seek him out once word spread that he was in town.  And though he had an ever-growing list of angry husbands who wanted his head, the nimble blonde hadn’t been caught yet, his luck equaling his stamina in the bedroom.  Until he came to Colletton.

It was one of the few towns he had left to check off his list, a small, tucked away hamlet on the northern coast.  Dark whispers hung around the town like a cloud of flies, and Reeve had heard about everything from hordes of undead roaming the streets at night to supposed horrible experiments conducted by Lord Collett’s sinister necromancer, Odephir.  The smug stud hadn’t believed any of the drunken rumors, though his conviction began to wane when he saw the pack of monsters for himself on the way into town.  A band of hulking, orcish brutes were working a field outside the city walls, far larger and more savage in appearance than the usual Orc folk he’d come across.  A group of guards stood by to supervise their labor, and Reeve could hear their deep, bellowing grunts all the way from the road.  His stomach dropped when one of the nearly-naked hulks looked in his direction.  The guards’ comparatively puny size made him doubt that they could effectively exert any control over the group if the massive walls of muscle decided to disobey.  Reeve breathed a sigh of relief when it shrugged and went back to its work, his curiosity piqued.  He’d never seen anything like the towering beasts before, and though they shared similar features, they were nothing like the forest-dwelling Orcs he’d met in his travels.  It was true that Orcs were naturally large and strong, though he’d found their reputation as being primitive entirely without merit.  Their culture differed from city dwellers, but it, and they, were no less sophisticated, nor were any of the Orc women Reeve bedded any less skilled than their softer counterparts.

When he'd asked about the creatures in the tavern, he knew he should have left town immediately.  Colletton didn’t have an undead problem, but the stories he’d heard about Odephir were apparently true.  The creatures he’d seen were the town’s equivalent of a dungeon, a constant reminder of what would happen if someone broke the law.  Instead of being locked in a cell you were given over to the shriveled sorcerer and turned into a mindless brute, trapped in a primitive mountain of muscle.  No matter who you were before, from that point on you were little more than livestock, forced to spend the rest of your days plowing the fields like a beast of burden or defending the walls from attack.

Reeve shuddered at the thought, but he didn’t have time to dwell on such a fate before he saw her.  Simultaneously lithe and curvy, with pale skin and raven hair, the arrogant blonde had never witnessed such beauty.  His first instinct had been that he’d finally found someone as attractive as himself, and when the bartender tried to warn him off he ignored it.  At the time he hadn’t known she was Lord Collett’s daughter, but if he was being honest, Reeve would have done it anyway.  She’d taken him upstairs and they’d spent the afternoon locked in ecstasy, a bliss that culminated with a group of the town guard kicking in the door.

He’d barely had time to grab his clothes and jump out the window, his still-rigid cock wagging painfully as he made the ten-foot drop to the ground.  Reeve was practiced at fleeing from angry spouses and he managed to slip his clothes on as he ran, but it became quickly apparent that he was in over his head.  When he ducked into a darkened alley, the shadows themselves tried to reach out and restrain him, and the streets of Colletton seemed to warp and stretch on forever as he raced down them.  After a disorienting sprint he’d managed to clamber up and over the city wall, his athletic frame already burning with fatigue, but as soon as he hit the ground he heard the wings.

Reeve dare not look back as gusts of air pressed down on him from the loud flapping while he raced for the trees.  Whatever followed cast a huge shadow in the dim moonlight, and when he finally stumbled under the canopy the ground shook with the force of the monstrosity’s impact as it landed and pursued on foot.  Since then it had been a panicked race that was coming to its inevitable end.

“FUCK!”  Reeve yelped, but it was too late.  The tree seemed to appear out of nowhere in the darkness, a hollow thud echoing as his skull collided with it.  His head spinning and his vision blurring, the dazed blonde tried to cling to consciousness.  He flailed on the ground in an attempt to get back up on his feet, but the beast was already on him.  The last thing Reeve saw was a dark, lumbering shadow, a group of thick, ropy tentacles wrapping around him like a vice as the ground fell away beneath him.

**********

“Gah!”  Reeve gasped, his eyes shooting open when the cold water splashed on him.  He darted upright, his toned chest heaving as he looked at the grinning guard.  He was on a pile of hay, but the last thing he remembered clearly was running through the forest.  After that, his memories were a hazy mess of flying and falling, a hoarse voice droning in his ears.

“Nap time’s over, stud,” the dark-skinned young guard laughed.  He folded a pair of beefy arms across his chest, the leather armor of maroon and gold accentuating his impressive build.

“What…where am I…” Reeve stammered, his stomach dropping when he looked down and saw his naked, aroused state.

“You’re in the pens, but you might as well call it home from now on.  I’m Dekker.  Doesn’t really matter since you probably won’t remember for long.”  Dekker whistled and shook his head as he looked Reeve up and down.  “You ARE a pretty one.  I can see why she liked you.  Hope it was worth it,” he shrugged, “not going to be pretty for much longer.  Don’t worry…your new friends aren’t going to mind at all.”  Reeve’s already-aching cock throbbed when he looked in the direction of Dekker’s nod and saw two of the brutes from the field rutting like bulls on the other side of the pen.  A hulking, green-tinged beast was draped over a pink wall of muscle, hammering what looked a third leg into the ruddy behemoth’s ample rear.  Both of their warped, rugged faces were slack-jawed with ecstasy, giving a series of deep grunts throughout the animalistic display.  It wasn’t at all like the sex Reeve was used to, and not only because of the participants.  It was primal and raw, a display of strength, not of romantic intent.  The pink one wasn’t just being fucked, he was being dominated.  And based on the steady stream of liquid alternately oozing and spraying from his rigid club, he was loving every second of it.

Even as he tried to tell himself he wouldn’t end up that way, Reeve longed to join them.  The sound of their slapping muscle and guttural grunts called to him on an instinctual level, as it appeared to do for the rest of the group.  When he pried his eyes away from the vigorous pair, he saw the monstrosities were everywhere, writhing groupings of thrusting, fleshy mountains.  Some had partnered off, some were going at each other in a larger pack, and some just watched, groping their distended muscle while pumping away on their massive organs, or letting one of the waifish, scantily clad young men flitting about the pens do it for them.

It was one of these smaller figures that Dekker motioned over.  Reeve felt a confusing mix of lust and pity as the slender, wide-eyed man approached.  He was clad in nothing but a small, thin loincloth that left his slight frame entirely on display.  His skin was smooth and soft, and there was an appealing bounce to his supple thighs and plump rear with each of his quick steps.  Something about his thick, auburn hair and soft features struck Reeve as familiar, but the addled blonde’s gaze kept drifting down along the other man’s dainty arms, and over the small belly that widened at his curvy hips.  As Reeve gawked, Dekker reached over and untied the loincloth, revealing the tiny nub of a cock nestled between the smaller man’s yielding thighs.  The man gave a little yelp and started to cover himself but stopped, a flush of crimson running up his androgynous face.

The effect on Reeve was immediate.  Without fully knowing why, the sight of the naked little man sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through him, and his cock throbbed even harder as he fought the urge to reach out and swallow the curvy figure in his arms.  More than mere arousal, the impulse was protective and possessive, a combination the bed-hopping hunk had never felt before.

Dekker grinned as he watched Reeve try to process the unfamiliar flood of emotions.  “That’s good.  What you’re feeling, I mean.  You’re a servant of Lord Collett’s domain and all who reside within its walls.  You and your new friends might be a force of nature on the battlefield, but in here, you can’t even think about hurting another of the Lord’s subjects, can you?”  He waited a silent moment before continuing.  “Answer me!”

“N…no!  Not…not at all…” Reeve stammered, surprised at his sudden response.

Dekker nodded.  “Like any good beast, you also obey your masters.  There’s no way we could handle a herd like this unless you were tamed, and Odephir’s magic has already seen to that.  Amazing what that man can do.” He jerked his head towards the blushing figure, his broad frame towering over the naked pixie the way the lumbering brutes towered over him and Reeve.  “You remember Randolph, Alyssa’s guard, don’t you?”

The stunned blonde gasped, his eyes going wide.  The last time he’d seen him, Randolph had been both older and bigger than Dekker, a broad wall of rugged, lantern-jawed muscle who’d stood at least a head and a half taller than his current height.  His features had softened significantly, but as Reeve stared, there was no denying the resemblance.  “That…that can’t be him,” he said, trying to convince himself.

Dekker reached down and gave the little man’s soft bubble a squeeze, eliciting another squeal.  “Well?  Is that really you Randolph?”

“Aye,” the naked cherub said, his high, light voice nothing like the formerly deep rumble he used to have.  His blushing deepened, spreading across his entire body as he looked increasingly uncomfortable.

“Why don’t you tell Reeve how you ended up that way?”  Dekker made it a point to lock eyes with Randolph, not letting him look away.

The shrunken man's hands kept drifting towards his exposed nub as if he was trying to cover himself, but they always stopped at his thighs.  “Alyssa was my responsibility.  Lord Collett wasn’t pleased that you made your way to her, and when Odephir cast his truth spell and it came out that Alyssa had been paying me to look the other way for months now, he…” Randolph trailed off, looking down at his reduced form.

“This was actually going to be your job,” Dekker continued, tousling the shorter man’s softened hair.  “But when Randolph’s treachery became known, Lord Collett decided to use him as the seed instead.  It was actually his…vigor?  Strength?  I don’t know what Odephir does,” he shrugged.  “But whatever it is, he took it from Randolph and used it to fuel your growth spurt.  It's the reason these beasts are the way they are.  I’m sure you’ve seen the real Orc tribes in your travels.  A much more distinguished lot than these grunts, but that’s what you get when you try to magically grow your own, I suppose.  A little orc blood and some stolen manhood don’t make for the real thing.  Still, It’s a win for everyone.  I get a new soldier, there’s a new Nub to work the pens, and there are two fewer scoundrels dirtying up the domain.”  Reeve instinctively wrapped his arms around Randolph when Dekker gave him a rough shove forward.  He hated the way he immediately pumped his hips, grinding his cock against the other man’s softened belly.  He wanted to push the Commander away when he stepped behind Randolph and whispered into the smaller man’s ear, but all he could do was squirm.  “Now do your job like a good little slattern so I can finish showing Reeve around,” Dekker spat.

The former pretty boy felt like he should try and stop the little man as he dropped to his knees, but he couldn’t muster the will.  Not only was he unable to disobey an order; he didn’t want to.  As soon as Randolph’s soft, full lips wrapped around his thick pole, Reeve’s body took over.  All he could do was fight the guttural grunts trying to force their way up his throat while the kneeling cherub's head bobbed like a woodpecker.  He felt a slight twinge of guilt at watching someone who'd been a prime specimen of masculinity so reduced, but he told himself he wasn’t responsible for Randolph flaunting the lord's orders any more than he was responsible for stealing the other man's essence.  And between the two of them, he couldn’t tell who had it worse.  He was horrified at the thought of becoming a brutish, semi-mindless colossus, but the thought of being reduced to a fey-like Nub, insultingly named after their shrunken cocks, was equally unpleasant.  Reeve tried to picture himself on his knees in a withered body, desperately going at one of the beasts, but it wasn’t any better than the thought of getting hammered by one in a dull, swollen frame.

“NNGGuuuhhhnnngguUUUHH!”  Reeve spasmed, mortified by the deep, howling grunt that forced its way out.  It sounded like the braying of some animal in heat, not the velvet, seductive moans he was used to.  A sputtering sound caught his ear when the grunt died away, and he looked down to see a cum-soaked Randolph wiping his dripping mouth.  Reeve hadn’t watched the explosion happen, but the amount of liquid should have been impossible.  “Was that…did I make all that?”

“Hope you enjoyed it,” Dekker nodded.  “Last time that thing’s going to be small enough to fit in someone’s mouth.  Unless you count your new friends, but with tusks like those you probably don’t want to be sticking it in there anyway.”  He reached over and tousled the remains of Reeve’s hair as he spoke, laughing at the other man’s terrified expression when large clumps fell away.

“Shit!”  The former ladies man gasped when he followed the clumps down, his jaw dropping at the sight of his inflated cock.  The fat log was already twice as large as it had been, with appropriately hefty balls hanging heavily underneath.  It was still small by the standards of his soon-to-be peers, but it looked absolutely massive against his lean frame.  He understood why Randolph had sputtered, the memory making him twitch all over again.

Dekker pulled the smaller man to his feet, wiping his cum-slick hand on the shrunken guard's supple bubble before gesturing him away.  “The Nub’s keep you fed, cleaned and entertained,” he said, shaking his head as he looked Reeve up and down.  He gave a short laugh and spread his hands in surrender.  “I just don’t get it.  Even now, you can’t get away from being a pretty boy.”

The naked man looked confused as he inspected himself, already seeing his proportions beginning to shift.  “What?  How is this pretty?!”

“Looks like you’re going to be a pink,” Dekker interrupted.  “Pinks are a big hit in the pens.  Tend to get the biggest back here,” he said, slapping Reeve’s perky cheeks.  “Hell, all the attention you’re going to get, you might not even need a Nub.”

Reeve’s stomach dropped.  It wasn’t a comforting thought.  He pictured what he’d look like in just a few hours, his widened, toothy jaw hanging open, his bald scalp shining as brute after brute went at his impending, ample rear.  He was still too small to be seen as one of them, but he’d watched their heads turn at the sound of his wail just a few moments ago, their interest already raised.  They’d mostly stopped going at each other and were letting Nubs drape small loincloths around their broad waists, the only clothing that Reeve would be wearing for the rest of his life.  In battle they had more intricate armor, but while going about their daily exercises or manual labor around the castle, they wore significantly less.  “Do I…is there something I should put on?”

Dekker just laughed.  “Not yet.  Those are still too big.  Your face is already getting a little rough…so think of this as your last chance to flaunt that pretty body of yours.”

Reeve wanted to crawl under a rock and hide at Dekker’s mocking grin.  He lifted his shaking hands, feeling a jaw that felt wider than it should, and a nose that was flattened.  But before he could respond further, the greenish wall of muscle next to him grunted.  “Pretty,” he barked, his large lower tusks accentuated by the approximation of a smile.

“See?  Scar Nose already noticed you,” Dekker said, nodding at the large gash across the hulk’s flat nose.

“They…can talk?”  Reeve didn’t know if he was relieved or further horrified.

“Of course!  Not well, mind you.  But they’re not entirely mindless.  They can still think and learn and remember and speak, can’t you big guy?  Scar Nose is one of the smartest ones.”  Dekker walked over and rubbed the green skinned man’s bulky muscle gut, his neck craning as he looked up at the seven-foot wall of muscle.

“Scar Nose smart,” the green giant said, pounding his meaty chest proudly.  His voice was like a raging bull being drug across gravel underwater, sending a fresh stab of fear through Reeve at the thought of sounding the same.  “Not dumb!” He roared.

Dekker gave Scar Nose’s belly a rough pat like he was petting a dog.  “You keep an eye on your new friend here, alright?  Reev…” he stopped and cocked his head, looking at the balding blonde, “…that won’t do.  We need to give you your new name.  What do you think, big guy,” he asked, smiling up at the grunting brute.

“Pretty!” Scar Nose barked again.

“Well, there you go, Pretty” Dekker nodded.  “It’s fate.  And who knows?  Scar Nose actually was pretty smart before all this.  He worked in the Lord’s treasury, until he was caught stealing.  Maybe that means you’ll still retain your talents?”

Reeve was less than comforted as he followed behind the other man.  He caught the sneering looks from the passing guards and castle staff, wincing every time his huge, flopping cock slapped loudly against his legs.  He wanted to cover himself, but like Randolph, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to actually do it.  And, to his horror, there was rapidly becoming more of himself that needed obscuring.  Already his thighs were starting to brush together, and when he looked down, his toned chest was starting to bulge further off his expanding torso.

A corresponding haze draped itself over his thoughts.  Reeve fought against it as best he could, but as Dekker left him with the others and the morning unfolded, it became increasingly difficult to focus.  He spent hour after hour pushing heavy boulders across the courtyard for exercise, or turning massive millstones to grind corn and wheat, alternately amazed and horrified by his growing strength.  Eventually gaps in his attention began to form, and the inflating hulk would find himself starting one task, only for his awareness to come back while he was finishing another.  With every leap forward his body was less recognizable as his own, until the time he came to thinking that he was looking at one of the others.  He stood frozen in place, blinking down at the swollen, pink expanse of bulky muscle, a semi-hard cock the size of his former arm dangling between his trunk-like thighs.

“N…no!  No!” He grunted, groping at his lumpy muscle gut and piston arms.  His meaty paw of a hand seemed huge as he lifted it towards his head, first running his wide, stubby fingers over the bald scalp and protruding ears.  “Not…face!” Was all he managed to bark, his eyes going wide when he felt his broadened forehead, blunted nose, and the obscenely wide jaw, complete with two small tusks poking up from behind his lower lip.  He slid his hands back down to reach around and palm the mammoth globes of muscle that had become his powerful rear, vaguely remembering Dekker’s warning about how large it would become.  “Not Pretty!” He roared, wanting to scream at the grinding, guttural sound of his voice.  In his head he was completing sentences, but he could only bark out every few words.

When he was able to look away from himself he saw he was in a wide courtyard off the back of the pens with the others.  He could see open countryside and forest in the distance, but instead of trying to flee, he frantically looked around for Dekker.  He didn’t see the Commander, but he did see Lord Collett and his slinking necromancer smiling down at him from a balcony high above.  Instead of rage, the sight sent a wave of fear through him, and before he knew it he was scampering back inside the pens.

“Pretty!”  Reeve was barely inside before he slammed into Scar Nose.  The green giant was naked, one of the Nubs stroking his massive log, and he gave the terrified former blonde a rough shove in what passed for a friendly greeting amongst the group.

Reeve’s cock was mostly hard already, and it rocketed the rest of the way at the sight.  “No!  Not Pretty!” He grunted, slapping his distended chest.

Scar Nose looked confused.  He brushed the Nub aside and stepped to Reeve, looking him up and down.  “Yes!  Pretty!” He barked again.

“No!  I…Ree…Vuh…not…Pretty!” The frustrated, former stud cried.  He’d had to struggle to recall his former name, and he could feel it slipping already.

It pushed the green brute past his small window of understanding and into anger.  Thinking the other man was challenging him, he drew himself up to his full height and puffed his slab of a chest out, batting his longer, thicker cock against his pink companion.  “You. Pretty.” He snarled before throwing himself at the former lady’s man.

The two giants landed in a writhing heap.  Reeve was moving on instinct, amazed that his powerful new frame was holding its own against the emerald bruiser, but as they wrestled, a new impulse was taking root.  It occurred to Reeve that he wasn’t trying to win as much as he was simply enjoying the sensation of Scar Nose’s bulky body on top of him.  There was a growing part of him that wanted to give into the other brute, his submission the price he’d pay for the bliss that would follow.  He was part of a hierarchy now that his instincts understood even if his brain didn’t, and while he couldn’t just roll over and let Scar Nose take him, it was only a matter of time before his token effort gave out.

When it did, it was better than Reeve could have imagined.  A crowd had gathered around them to watch his inevitable defeat as Scar Nose finally pinned him flat on his back, but embarrassment was no longer an emotion he could feel.  “You!  Pretty!” Scar Nose's roar was deafening, bouncing off the stone walls around them while the green stud huffed, his breath hot on Reeve’s face inches away.

“I…Pretty…” Reeve finally grunted, squirming as their monstrous cocks were wedged between them.  It was all Scar Nose needed to hear.  Like someone flipping a switch his expression softened, his energy going from aggressive to playful.  The crowd sensed the change, and Reeve heard a rumbling murmur go through the group as he looked around to see them watching with their toothy grins. They pawed lustfully at each other or themselves as Scar Nose stayed draped over Reeve, his hands no longer pinning the pink behemoth but toying with his nubby nipples.  Reeve could only give a wordless grumble, his bulbous new cock already starting to ooze.  His new friend’s was as well, leaving a growing stream trailing down the side of his muscle gut.  That stream shifted up towards his heaping pecs when Scar Nose lifted his legs into the air, and before Reeve’s addled brain could piece together what was coming, the green man’s beefy cock was already inside.

Reeve howled, a lightning bolt of pain making his vision go white.  When it cleared, he found himself gazing up at a determined looking Scar Nose, his stomach fluttering at the sight of the other man’s blunted features.  In that moment he wasn’t a hideous, oversized brute.  He was a protector.  He was a friend.  He was a pack mate.  He was in charge.  His slab of a chest slamming up and down from the force of Scar Nose’s pounding, Pretty felt his fears start to fade away.  He didn’t need to worry.  He could barely remember what that even meant.  He was with his friends, the pain was turning to pleasure with each thrust, and he felt fantastic.  The sensation of his tongue running over his small tusks gave him pause, but only because the salty fluid had started to run up over his square chin and into his grunting mouth.

He watched his new friends go at each other with increasing frenzy, driven on by the sounds of his ecstatic howls.  It was an instinct none of them could ignore outside of battle, and within moments Pretty was watching the carnal explosion of multicolored muscle around him.  He stayed at the heart of it, eagerly participating in his impromptu initiation as brute after brute took a turn at his plump rear.  By the time it was over he’d been driven past the point of his limited intellect, a creature of pure physical sensation reduced to the mindless brute he’d feared, but only temporarily.

When they’d finally worn themselves out the haze gradually started to fade.  Pretty dozed in a pile of his friends, basking contentedly in the musky, sticky stench, and though he couldn’t remember the handsome, dark-skinned man’s name, he recognized the grin as the armored man smiled down at him.  The sight filled him with that same protective longing he felt around the Nubs and all the small people in the castle, but it wasn’t quite as strong for the wizened, hooded figure next to him.

“You did a good job with this one,” Dekker said, nodding down at the inflated behemoth once known as Reeve.

Odephir nodded, his weathered expression as ambivalent as ever.  “I do as my Lord commands,” he said.

Dekker knelt and stroked Pretty’s scalp, eliciting a broad smile and a slight grunt.  “Collett chose well when he brought you on.”

“Collett.  Yes, of course.”  Odephir’s thin lips cracked in a slight smile that was gone by the time Dekker turned to face him.