Punishment - Part 6

It felt good. Oh god, it felt good. To be satisfying both urges at once, to fill his face and his ass at the same time. Who cared if it all came at the cost of his masculinity, his stature, and even his health--Don just wanted to feel like this forever. 

Karson's thrusts were much harder than before. It felt to Dom like he was perhaps working out some aggression, although he only vaguely remembered what was whispered in his ear only a few moments ago. Something about his sister, or something. He wasn't really paying attention, his mind so laser-focused on the massive erection that was so close to penetrating him. And now that it was deep in his guts he could hardly remember anything at all.

"I want you to feel this," Karson grunted, "to feel yourself reduced to this sniveling sack of lard with a cock smaller than a child's!" 

It sounded odd for sex talk, but Don whimpered in response not so much because he was intimidated but because it seemed the appropriate thing to do based on their current roles. He was the fat bitch taking cock like a champ, and Karson was the muscled dom giving it. That's just the way things were.

Then Don yelped as Karson’s hands reached around his girth to wrap hard around his shaft. Don was hard--of course he was hard, his cock was bouncing off his saggy gut with every backward thrust--but this didn’t seem right. It used to take two hands to cover all of Don’s shaft, even hands as big as Karson’s. Now it took just one hand to crush his balls like a vice while the other tightened painfully around Don’s entire length.

“And I want you to feel this,” Karson said as spittle flew off to strike Don’s ear. “You’re gonna cum and you’re gonna feel these get sucked into your fat fucking body so you can never use them again.” 

It hurt, but for some reason he found the words as compelling as the cock that was relentlessly stuffing his hole. Maybe it was the tone, slightly threatening, slightly alluring, that just somehow burrowed its way into Don’s brain and compelled him to cum right then and there, an order from a superior specimen.

The hands holding Don’s genitals filled with his jizz until drips started falling to the floor. And then the pain he had endured under Karson’s grip diminished. The ache of his balls became a gentle warmth as the constricting fingers loosened into a gentle ring. Don spasmed as he pumped jet after jet into Karson’s waiting hands until it felt like his entire crotch was submerged in his own goo. 

Only after he’d cum did enough clarity return to Don’s drug-addled brain that he understood what had truly happened. Karson hadn’t let up his painful hold--Don’s cock had simply shrunk to where Karson’s grip was simply comfortable rather than agonizing.

He couldn’t see of course--Don’s post orgasmic weight gain had already put his groin out of view from where he was standing as the pounds continued to pile on--but he felt it. There wasn’t a big slab of meat to slap off of his thighs anymore. Just a nub to peak its way out of the cavern of flesh that had become of the space between Dan’s stomach and legs. 

His balls weren’t much better. When once they had dangled proudly beneath him, now they huddled close, their former lemon-sized glory reduced to grape-sized shame. Even the bag that held them hardly seemed to exist, his wrinkly scrotum pulled taught thanks to his own expanding mass filling any available space.

“That’s right fatso,” Karson said as he suddenly removed all 9-inches from Don’s rectum. “Reach under that gut to feel your new equipment.” 

He didn’t need to, but he did as ordered. Don had never needed to reach for his own anatomy before today, but he did for the first time as he slid his hand down towards the crease where his belly flopped over his lap even while he was standing fully upright. Feeling along the chasm he eventually found the soaked pubic hair that marked his nether region, and then the still-hard shaft as it poked through the cum-soaked fibers.

It was hard to guess with all the flab in the way and his own now-chubby fingers, but Don figured he was down to perhaps 4-and-a-half inches at most. Perhaps another inch could be dug out from the fold of lard that encircled his dick, but he just knew that was being optimistic. 

Tears flooded to Don’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks, but as the first pangs of hunger hit him, he wondered if it really truly mattered? If all he wanted now was food and cock, did the option of sticking his own diminished meat into someone else even need to exist? Sure, Don could remember a time when the feeling of his cock surrounded by warm and inviting flesh was the best feeling of the world, but he was soon approaching a size where that would just be the default. Every step of his blubbery body would feel the same as fucking the wildest ride of his former life, and he could combine that with the even greater pleasure of an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Even as these revelations washed over Don, Karson fished his phone from his discarded pants and ordered more food to be delivered. He judged there was at least one more full day of feeding before this porker was done.