Wrecking More Than His Wallet
Commissioned by an anonymous finsub
Extreme Content Warnings: Findom, hypnosis, dubious consent, mindfuck, watersports, diapers, scat, heavy BDSM, fisting, extreme body modification
Part 1
Travis gave a contented sigh and logged off the app for the night, and checked his accounts. It had been a solid evening draining pigs for him under his online persona, WalletWrecker, and he’d raked in over a thousand dollars in a few hours. Not bad by any measure, and certainly the pigs had enjoyed it---but he’d done better, and he knew of more than a few findoms from social media who would have regarded a thousand dollars as mere chump change. He could do better.
As he scrolled down the social feed, he saw an example right there---a fellow by the name of Ca$hBo$$, who had just posted a payment receipt from one of his subs, who had just been drained of over 5000 dollars, with Ca$hBo$$ gloating that the pig wouldn’t even be able to pay their rent this month. That was the kind of money that Travis wanted to make, those were the kinds of subs that he wanted to find, but he didn’t know where Ca$hBo$$ kept finding them. On a bit of a whim, he decided to send CB, as he was often called by other doms on the web, a little congratulatory note about his session, and see if he had any tips he might share. More likely, the fellow wouldn’t even bother replying, but it couldn’t hurt to at least reach out.
Much to Travis’ surprise, he actually got a response, and without having to wait to long. Even more surprising, the fellow seemed...fairly nice and normal. They talked about their mutual fetish for a bit, Travis telling him that he was also findomming subs regularly, but that he never got the yield’s that CB did.
WalletWrecker: I wish I knew what your secret is man, you pull in so much money, I don’t know how you find these whales.
Ca$hBo$$: They’re out there, usually in places you don’t always expect. I have a few special tools too, which help make guys more giving. WalletWrecker: Like what?
Ca$hBo$$: You expecting me to give up my secrets for free now?
Travis rolled his eyes. Now came the pitch, he was sure.
WalletWrecker: I’m just curious is all. Gonna try and make me pay for it?
Ca$hBo$$: Come on, I’m just joking around a bit. I’ll tell you. I make a bunch of hypnosis videos, actually. The stuff works wonders on these whales, they’re all weak willed pussies at the end of the day. Hell, some of them end up paying me to hypnotize them and make their lives even worse, it’s crazy.
WalletWrecker: Come on, hypnosis is total bunk.
Ca$hBo$$: Eh, it works if you think it will. I’ve had some guys tell me my tracks are really powerful though. Found some how-to articles around the web, and it seems to work wonders on these ATMs.
WalletWrecker: If so they’re all idiots.
Ca$hBo$$: You know it man.
WalletWrecker: So...what are the files like?
Ca$hBo$$: You’re gonna call it bunk and then ask me to show you what I got? Sounds like you’re more keen to believe in it than you say. WalletWrecker: Hey, if it works, it works, right? I’m not stupid enough to fall for it, but if these dumbfucks eat it up and it lets me get more cash out of them, why not?
Ca$hBo$$: Well, all the files I have are tailored to me, you’d still have to make your own.
WalletWrecker: That’s fine. I’ll watch yours, get an idea of what’s in it, then figure out how to make my own. Easy.
Ca$hBo$$: Sure thing. I’ll send you the one I send everyone to start with.
Travis gave the fellow his spam email address, and a file appeared in his inbox after a few minutes. He ran his virus program to check it out, but it looked to be a basic video file, nothing special. The email CB sent told him that the audio works best with headphones, but it wasn’t like Travis was trying to get tranced out on this stuff. He found himself hesitating, doubting his own confidence that hypnosis was crock, but shook it off after a moment. Hypnosis wasn’t real, and even if it was, it wasn’t like he was going to succumb to something like that. If he felt like he was getting tired, or if it was getting to him, he’d just turn if off anyway. All he really needed was a basic idea of what was in the video, and then he’d be good to just make his own, and then the cash would roll in.
He turned on the video, skipped the headphones, turned up the audio, but the first few minutes were mostly boring. A lot of induction stuff, relaxing, walking down a staircase of the mind. He wasn’t paying too much attention to it, in all honesty, and just thinking about some other stuff, when he realized the video was over, and there was a loud notification coming through the computer at him---someone was calling him over Skype.
Still trying to shake the odd stupor he was feeling, he answered the call. A video feed popped up, though it didn’t show anyone’s face, just a odd spiraling pattern not unlike the video he’d mostly missed. “Good, you answered,” a voice said, warped by some program to be unnaturally deep, “Did you enjoy the video, WalletWrecker?”
“I did, Boss,” he said without thinking about it, and then caught himself. Who in the hell was he calling Boss? “Wait, who is this?”
The deep voice just laughed, “You know who I am. It’s me, Ca$hbo$$---I’m your boss now, WalletWrecker, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, you’re my boss, Sir,” he responded, again without really thinking the words out loud. He tried to grab hold of the mouse and close the window, but he couldn’t quite get his fingers to move, and he couldn’t seem to break his stare away from the spiral.
“You wanted to know how I made so much money, right WalletWrecker---or should I say, Travis?” CB said, “well, I should have explained a bit more. See, I used to be like you, chasing down whales, milking them for cash, but then I realized something. You want to know who the biggest fucking whales are in the world? Other dumbass findoms like you. Why should I do all the work, when I can just convince all of you to work for me instead?”
“No, I’m...not some fuckin’...whale...” Travis said, trying to tug his eyes away from the screen, but he could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper, “I’m...I’m a dom...”
“Heh, maybe to the sub’s you’re talking to, but you’re just another mindfucked whale with me. Think about it---how much money did you make tonight?”
“A...A thousand dollars.”
“Fuck, is that it? Damn, I thought you had more skills than that. You’re gonna have to do a whole lot better if you’re going to survive in my stable. Send it all to me---you already linked our accounts while you were zonked out to the video, all you have to do is pull out your phone, and send all that cash to your new Boss’ account.”
His phone was right there. He pulled his eyes away from the screen long enough to open up his banking app, and sure enough, he’d already put in the information for CB’s account, right there. He fought it. He wasn’t going to do this, he had more will than this! “No, no, you can’t fucking do this to me,” he said, keeping his eyes on the phone and away from the screen.”
The voice laughed. “Come on, whale. Think about how hot it makes you when you send me money.”
At the word ‘hot’, it felt like his entire body began to heat up. He hadn’t noticed how hard his cock had gotten, and it throbbed in the underwear he was wearing, leaking precum into the fabric. He moaned, thinking about how hot he was, how good it would feel to be a good little piggybank for boss and dump all of that money right into that account, where he’d never see it again.
“I can see you starting to sweat. I know you’re thinking about how hot it’s gonna be, as I drain you. Look at that cock of yours, you weak little whale. Already so excited, that as soon as you make your first send, I bet that thing is gonna explode right in the front of your briefs. That’s the only way hot, horny whales like you get to cum, when you send your Boss lots, and lots of cash...”
“Lots of cash...” Travis said, and he realized his fingers were on the button before he could do anything to stop it---and all that money he’d made disappeared from his account, and went right to his new Boss. His whole body spasmed as his cock exploded, blowing a massive load right in the front of his underwear, the most intense orgasm of his entire life.
“Good job whale, but like I said, you’re gonna have to do better. I’m gonna need five thousand every week from now on---I don’t care if it’s your money or someone else’s. I’m gonna call every Wednesday night, and if you don’t have it...well, I have other videos I can show you, if you can’t be a good whale.” CB laughed, and the call ended, leaving Travis panting in his room, underwear soaked with cum---the newest addition to the Ca$hBo$$’ stable of findom whales.
Part 2
It wasn’t easy pulling in that five thousand dollars. Travis had only managed to make that much in a week once or twice, and then, only while he was taking time off from his day job. He worked over his usual subs as much as he could, so much that one even told him he was being pushy, and then dug around for some others he could work over. Even then, he only pulled together four thousand from subs. He pulled the rest from his own savings account, which held a decent amount. It wouldn’t last for long though, if he didn’t manage to figure a way out of this.
On Wednesday, Ca$hBo$$ contacted him, demanding his tribute:
Ca$hBo$$: Alright whale, you have my money like we agreed?
WalletWrecker: Yeah, but I can’t keep this up---this is too much.
Ca$hBo$$: I don’t give a fuck if it’s too much. If anything, it’s even hotter knowing I’ll be draining you completely dry.
Travis moaned, despite himself, and realized his cock was rock hard.
Ca$hBo$$: Tell me the truth---the thought of knowing that, a few months down the road, all of your accounts are going to be overdrawn, and you’re going to be nothing more than a poor fucking loser is making that cock of yours leak.
WalletWrecker: Fuck! I am leaking, but I don’t want this!
Ca$hBo$$: Yeah, but your dick wants it. I wants it real bad, and together, me and that dick of yours are going to ruin your life. Now send me the fucking money, or you won’t like what happens next.
Travis hesitated for a moment, but what choice did he have, really? He sent the money over, and a moment later, another message came in.
Ca$hBo$$: That’s good, pig. Now---you want to cum I bet. You haven’t shot all week...that cock of yours must be so hot...I’ll let you cum, but only after you watch the video I send you. I don’t think I’ve fucked you up in the head enough yet---we should fix that. We’ll talk next week---and you’ll be tributing another 5k, don’t forget.
A link arrived in Travis’ email, a link to the video Ca$hBo$$ was likely talking about, and his cock was hard, aching, and leaking all over the place, but he closed down the browser instead, got up, and took a walk around outside until he’d calmed down a bit. He wasn’t going to watch that video, there was no way he’d do it. That freak’s hypnosis would have to wear off eventually, but he wasn’t about to watch something that would make it worse.
He lasted three days. His cock was so desperate for release, that everything else in his life had suffered. He couldn’t sleep, he hadn’t been able to concentrate at work. He decided that whatever was on that video couldn’t be worse than the torment he was facing now. The hypnotic video sucked him back down into a trance, and he woke up, hours later on his bed, thrusting a dildo in and out of his hole, stroking his cock, until he unleashed a massive load of cum all over the sheets, and he collapsed, exhausted.
That next Wednesday, Ca$hBo$$ demanded they video chat again, and took great pleasure in watching Travis ride his dildo on cam. Every hundred thrusts of the dildo, Travis was allowed to tribute a thousand dollars, he’d reached the required tribute of five thousand, and he could finally stop, his arms shaking, his body soaked with sweat and lube, his ass on fire with both pain and pleasure.
“Fuck pig, that was quite the show,” Ca$hBo$$ said over the cam, “You seem to be enjoying your new anal fixation.”
“F-Fuck you,” Travis said, panting and shaking, “You’re making me do this shit.”
“Pretty soon, you’re going to be begging me to do even worse shit to you. We’re gonna melt that fucking brain until dollar bills leak out your ears. Now, pay attention---“
Travis didn’t really hear what came after that. A trigger word, and then he sat at the computer, dildo still buried up his hole, and listened. Listed as Ca$hBo$$ spoke directly into his brain, filling him up with who knew what, and ah hour later, when the video call ended, Travis just sat there for a moment. He was wondering what Ca$hBo$$ had told him. Wondered what commands he might have given him. Then, he realized he was horny. The realization that Ca$hbo$$ had just spent an hour fucking with his head, probably planting all sorts of traps and landmines that would fuck him over, was making him horny. So horny, that all he could do was get back on the bed and fuck his hole some more with the dildo, his ass on fire with pain, but it didn’t matter. He needed to get fucked, he needed it so bad, and the dildo wasn’t enough. It was too small, it wasn’t alive. He needed bigger---or he needed someone to fuck him, it didn’t even matter who it would be.
And he froze then. This was it. He didn’t even know why he was d0ing this, but it felt right. Was this Ca$hBo$$ fucking with his brain? But realizing that didn’t make him want to stop---if anything, it only made him hornier, and more excited, and he couldn’t stop himself from ordering a much larger dildo for himself, and then hopping on a sexapp and begging random men to come fuck his hole, until one finally obliged.
He only lasted at his job for another week and a half. The needs of his hole, the needs of his cock, and the terror that he needed to somehow scrounge up another five thousand dollars for Ca$hbo$$ was all he could think about. He didn’t even bother to show up, too busy fucking himself and finding finsubs more desperate than him on the internet to drain that he didn’t even bother to leave his apartment for much of anything. Losing that connection to normalcy, to the world outside of his computer, only made everything even worse. He spiraled, unable to figure out if he’d lost his job because he was weak and exhausted, or if it had been Ca$hbo$$’s hypnosis undermining him and his financial stability, the thought of which made him so horny that he had three strangers over that night to fuck him silly.
During their weekly chats, Ca$hBo$$ refused to tell him what he was planting in his mind. It could be nothing, it could be the most insidious and subtle triggers imaginable. Maybe Travis wanted this. Maybe he’d always wanted this. That could have been the reason he was attracted to financial domination, he told him one day. That he ruined the lives of other people because he was too scared to admit that what he really wanted, deep down, was to ruin his own. It seemed idiotic, but the more he thought about it, the more true it became. Maybe he did want this. Maybe he was enjoying this. He could finally let go of all those pesky dreams and ambitions, and just let everything fall. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond scrounging together 5000 dollars every week so Ca$hBo$$ would give his aching cock a moment of release, before trancing him out and planting another round of commands that would only make everything worse.
His hygiene started to slip. The guys he’d found to use his hole started to complain and not show up anymore, which just meant that Travis began lowering his standards. After a few months under Ca$hBo$$’s control, he started wetting the bed at night. At first, he was ashamed, telling Ca$hBo$$ that this was too much, but after a couple of weeks, and a few sessions, he finally admitted it. He liked the smell of piss. He loved it, actually. He loved pissing himself, he loved drinking piss, both his own and that of the men who came around to fuck him. It only seemed natural, really, to start wearing diapers. He could piss in them all day, enjoy the soggy feeling around his crotch, sit around massaging his cock through them, filling the air with the scent of his piss until he started leaking it all over the chair, the floor, the bed---everywhere really.
It also meant he never really needed to leave the computer---which is where he spent almost all of his time now, when he wasn’t getting ready for a dirty trick to come over and fuck him. It was getting harder and harder to pretend that he was some domineering findom on the internet, as he fell deeper and deeper under Ca$hBo$$’s sway. More and more subs blocked him, sensing that he was growing desperate. In order to make his weekly tributes, he had to dip more and more into his own savings, which was beginning to run dry, without any outside income. Finally---there was nothing left.
No subs to drain. No savings to rely on. His rent was overdue, and he’d received so many complaints about the smell coming from his apartment that he was likely getting evicted even if he came up with the money he owed. Ca$hBo$$ came on the cam session, and Travis broke down, sobbing. He didn’t have the tribute. He’d failed. His whole life was ruined, and now he wasn’t even going to get to cum. He pleaded and begged, desperate with Ca$hBo$$, asking for one week, he could have double the money in a few days, he’d get guys to pay him to use his hole, anything. Ca$hBo$$ just laughed. “Fuck, most dom’s I wreck usually last about a year, but you crumbled in six fucking months. Fucking pathetic,” he said, “Don’t worry pig, I figured you’d run dry sooner than later. I already have a way for you to get the money for me. Now, pay attention...”
Once again, Travis slipped down into trance as Ca$hBo$$ spoke to him. He didn’t hear the door to his apartment open, or the two men enter. They place a pair of headphones on his head, so Ca$hBo$$ could continue speaking to the pig, and then the two men lead the drooling pig out of his apartment, towards an uncertain future.
Part 3
It felt like ages before he swam back up from the dark towards awareness, and when he did, he was confused. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t in his apartment anymore---he was in some cell, one that almost looked like a hospital room, with an adjustable bed in the middle---and cameras pointed at him from each corner of the room, along with a larger monitor beside some one-way glass. He could see himself on the monitor, and as walked over to inspect it, he realized it was live---and broadcasting. He was being livestreamed to a bunch of social media and porn sites. Before he could try the door or cry for help, he heard a familiar voice speak over the intercom, and over the livestream.
“Hello fans, it’s me, Ca$hBo$$. I’d like to introduce all of you to a pig I’ve been working on, named Travis Hendricks---though many of you in the community might know him better as WalletWrecker. Why don’t you go ahead and introduce yourself, Travis?”
Travis didn’t know what to say---but the words came out of his mouth anyway. “My name is Travis, and I used to be a findom, until I let Master mindfuck me with his hypnofiles and turn me into a diaperwhore. I’ve found my true calling getting fucked by strangers, covering myself in piss, fucking my hole, and of course tributing to Master, until I ran out of money...”
“That’s right everyone. Travis here is totally broke. He drained all his accounts like a good piggy, even missed his last rent payment, which is why we’re here to help him out. See, if we can raise 10,000 dollars, I’ll be able to properly prepare Travis here for his future as a dirty, filthy pigslave for a dominant master, just like he dreams of being, right Travis?”
Travis felt his heart skip, as he saw the goal appear on the screen. No---this couldn’t be happening, he thought, but again, his voice betrayed him, “While I will always serve Ca$hBo$$ with my body and soul, I know I was always meant to be a pigslave for some dirty, perverted master, and I hope all of you will help me make my dream come true!”
“Now don’t be miserly, your donations today can help a mindfucked pig find his true calling. We have special surprises for you all, and for Travis, at each 2500 dollar milestone, all to help him on his way to becoming a proper pigslave. First though, why don’t you show our good viewers how committed you are, Travis? Under the bed there, you’ll find some trimmers---no slave should be as hairy as you, right? You can fix that, can’t you?”
It felt like a dream. Travis made his way to the bed, and saw that there were a variety of drawers underneath. The first couple he tried were locked, but a smaller one opened up, and inside was a hair trimmer. “Yes Sir, good pigslaves don’t deserve hair,” he said, and faced the main camera under the monitor, before buzzing a streak down the middle of his head. He heard the sound of money start coming in, and saw the comments on the side, all of them degrading and laughing at him, as he kept shaving off his hair, first off his head, then he shaved away his beard, his eyebrows, and then all the hair he could reach on his body.
“That’s good Travis, excellent. We’re almost at the 2500 dollar level already! Let’s make that permanent, shall we? There’s a nice cream in that same drawer---why don’t you spread that all over your body, Travis, and keep all that nasty hair from growing back?”
He wanted to cry, or scream, or do something, didn’t he? Shouldn’t he be fighting this? He went back to the drawer and pulled out the tube of cream, and began smearing it all over his head, face and body. It burned and stung, badly, but when he heard the chime that the first goal had been reached, he gave a little moan of excitement, his cock throbbing a bit.
“Thank you everyone! We’ve reached our first goal. All of our prospective buyers want slaves with holes that can take more than just a cock---but Travis here has never been fisted, have you Travis?”
“N-No...I haven’t.”
“Then I think it’s time we popped that cherry, don’t you?”
The door to the room opened, and two men came inside, both wearing full rubber gear and hoods that kept them entirely anonymous. They were much stronger than Travis, especially since he’d spent months with almost no physical activity, and threw him on the bed. One forced a gasmask over his head, the visor of which had been replaced with an LCD screen. Before he could prepare himself, the screen came to life with a swirl of hypnotic color, and the mask was flooded with poppers, making him slip right into trance.
The audience watched the two men begin to work Travis over on the bed, fingering his hole open with their rubber clad hands, before one of them made a push, and with a muffled groan from Travis, drove his entire hand inside his ass. Meanwhile, Travis’s anal fixation was deepening, thanks to the new hypnosis, cementing deep in his mind that he is, and forever would be, nothing more than a hole, used for mens’ play and pleasure. One man fisted him, then the other, until his hole was loose and gaping, more and more viewers streaming into the livestream, and of course, more and more donations.
“Excellent, it looks like we’ve already made it to our second goal! The master’s who are considering purchasing this pathetic pig are all experienced sadists---and so that means they need a proper, masochistic pig who can take a proper beating, and enjoy it,” Ca$hBo$$ said. “Now, why don’t we see how the pig enjoys his pain right now?”
The two men stopped fisting Travis’s hole, and pulled the visor free of his face. He drool was running down his chin, snot on his upper lip, still deep in trance, as one of the men unlocked a different drawer on the bed, and pulled out a large, wooden paddle. Without much in the way of warning, one man grabbed hold of Travis’s shoulders, and the other began paddling his ass, and Travis yelped in pain, trying to get away from the men, scrambling, his trance lost.
“Yes, as you can all see, Travis here isn’t a natural masochist. Men, that’s enough---let the pig up, and bring him over to the monitor, if you’d be so kind.”
Dazed and shaking, hole aching and ass stinging, the men dragged Travis off the bed and over to the monitor, where Ca$hBo$$ had opened up a small screen of himself on webcam that Travis could see, but no one else could, though they could hear him. “Now, as I mentioned, Travis here is a deeply mindfucked pig. Once in a trance, he will do most anything that is asked of him---you all saw how hungry his hole became, and that was just with a few subliminals. Now---allow me to demonstrate just how pitiful this pig is---Travis, pay attention now...”
Travis tried to resist, only to be pulled under trance in front of the entire audience. When he came back to reality, and the two men bent him over the side of the bed and once again paddled him, the experience was vastly different. The pain was still there, but with it came euphoria. Before long, he was begging them for more, until one of them pulled out a flogger and began pounding at his ass and back with it mercilessly. Ca$hBo$$ just watched and laughed, the donations pouring in, the audience reveling in Travis being reduced to a complete pain pig before their eyes.
When they had finished, all three of them soaked with sweat, Travis’s skin marked with welts and bruises, they spent a little time getting him presentable. They put his diaper back on him, though he’d pissed himself already while getting beaten, and then dragged him over to the monitor and camera, where Travis managed to stand on his own, though barely. “Well pig, how do you feel?”
Travis didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t believe that an audience had just watched him get fisted, and then beaten, and worse, he’d loved every minute of both. He didn’t trust his mouth, but he also knew he couldn’t lie. “Amazing Sir, these two men know how to treat a painpig like me properly.”
“Yes, clearly you enjoy pain a lot. I don’t think pain would ever be a deterrent for you now, would it?”
“No Boss.”
“If anything, beating the shit out of you is a reward for a fucked up pig like you, isn’t that right?”
Travis gave a little moan, feeling his cock getting hard in his fresh diaper. “Yes Boss, just thinking about a Master beating me for being such a good slave just made my cock hard.”
The comments streaming down the side of the monitor were cruel and humiliating. A few were even subs he’d been getting money from, now disgusted to know their tributes had been going to a lowly pig like him.
“Well, good news Travis, we’ve reached our next milestone! 75oo dollars, all given by these men, who are eager to see just how much we can ruin you before I sell you off to some sadistic pig who will beat the living shit out of you day and night. Now---this trigger I already embedded in Travis’s mind months ago, but I wanted it to be a surprise for the pig. Tell me pig, after a session like that, I bet you’re starving, aren’t you?”
Without any warning, Travis’s stomach suddenly cramped. He was hungry---he was beyond hungry. He suddenly felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. “Fuck, yes Sir, I’m more hungry than I’ve ever been in my life!”
“Well, why don’t you tell everyone what starving pigs like you eat?”
“Shit!” Travis said, “I’m so fucking hungry for shit---fuck, I wanna eat some fresh shit right out of some hot fucker’s ass so fucking bad, it’s the only thing that will fill me up!”
The words came pouring out of him, before he even heard or understood them. When he realized what he’d just said, his eyes went wide, but he couldn’t deny it. He wanted to eat a man’s shit, and it was the only thing that could possibly satisfy this new hunger he felt. He looked back, and saw that the two men had been busy behind him, setting up a rimchair and another camera off to the side on the ground, which would perfectly capture Travis’s head as the two men fed him.
He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this. He told himself, tried to keep himself back, but the hunger was primal, instinctual. He was on all fours, crawling across the floor before he could get a hold of himself, sliding under the chair, looking up at the two men leering down at him, already drooling at the prospect of what they were about to feed him.
Travis didn’t remember much of what happened next. The first of the men who’d spent the last few hours torturing him sat down on the chair, and as soon as Travis smelled the man’s ripe, sweaty crack, he turned into some sort of feral beast, and lost total control of himself. Licking and probing, relishing the stench of the superior man, until the hole blossomed and the first bit of shit poked out, and Travis swallowed it down as quickly as he could, licking and whimpering for more. Once the first man finished and Travis had cleaned him up, the second man sat down as well, and Travis ate his load of shit too. By then, the hunger had settled down, but the desire and lust hadn’t let up one bit. What had disgusted him had first was twisting and warping in his mind, becoming fulfilling. Knowing he was servicing these superior men as their toiletpig was satisfying in a way he’d never experienced before---and his cock felt like it was about to burst, but no matter how he humped the inside of the diaper he was wearing, could he manage to cum.
At last, the second man stood up, and together, they pulled Travis back up to his feet, and pushed him in front of the camera. He could see himself, his hairless face smeared with shit, body covered with welts and bruises. “Well pig, did that sate your hunger well enough?” Ca$hBo$$ said.
“Yes Boss, this pig was starving, and it was an honor to service these men as their toilet,” Travis said.
Well, I have good news, pig. All of these generous men, who have been watching you for the last few hours, have contributed enough to meet our goal! Isn’t that exciting? That means we have enough money to properly prepare you for your new life of service. I think all of these generous men deserve one last show, don’t you? A nice finale? Maybe something a bit...explosive?”
Travis froze as he felt his bowels release, flooding the diaper with a huge load of shit that caused it to sag down around his waist. A blast of gas came along with it, so everyone one stream could hear what had just happened. He was so shocked, he barely felt his bladder release as well, the diaper sagging down even lower as it filled with his piss.
“How does it feel, Travis, knowing you’re fully incontinent now? That you’re never going to use a toilet again, and just shit yourself in diapers for the rest of your life?”
He could smell it. He could smell it, the shit and the piss, and that same feral nature was rising, but he couldn’t seem to get the diaper off, no matter how he struggled with it, unable to help himself.
“Look at the poor pig, I think he’s still hungry, but he can’t seem to get the diaper off---go on pig, we all want to watch you hump that nasty diaper until you cum, then we’ll take it off and let you have dessert.”
Travis was on all fours, one of the men angling the camera down so everyone could watch as he humped his diaper against the floor, faster and faster, grunting and snorting, eyes wide and glassy with lust. His humping only caused the smell to intensify, as the piss and shit in his diaper mashed together. He could feel it beginning to leak out the sides around his legs and onto the floor, but as much as he wanted to lick it off the tile, his need of his cock was stronger. With a loud series of snorts, he finally pushed over the edge, and felt a massive load of cum flood into his soiled diaper, all while Ca$hBo$$ and his audience of perverts laughed and cheered him on. One of the men stepped forward and undid the sides of his diaper, allowing it to fall off him with a loud squishing sound. Travis couldn’t hold back, shoving his face into the muck, coating his face with it, eating down as much of it as he could, licking it off the floor---and that was the last thing he remembered.
At some point, the men left the room and closed the door behind, and a gas began flooding into the room. Travis didn’t notice any of it, until he began to feel woozy. He distantly heard Ca$hBo$$ say “Nighty night piggy, I’ll see you when you wake up...” and then he collapsed, face first into the diaper, fast asleep, and the feed went dark.
Part 4
“Wakey, wakey, piggy...”
It felt like a dream. Travis didn’t know how long he’d been out---it could have been minutes, it could have been years. He had a vague sense that he’d been dreaming---dreams of pain and abuse and torture, but nothing concrete that he could recall. That had been a voice he knew though---
Ca$hBo$$.
But not through a speaker. It was there, in the room with him. He tried to look around, only to realize that he was blindfolded and couldn’t see anything, though he could move. He sat up and realized that there was something...wrong with his body. It wasn’t anything that he could pinpoint exactly, or rather, there was too many different concerns flaring in his mind that he couldn’t focus on anything in particular. He tried to stand up, but found it difficult, because his hands were bound tightly in something---most likely rubber mitts---that made his fingers useless.
“Why don’t you two help our friend up---we wouldn’t want him to be late for his big reveal, and the stream has already started!”
He felt two sets of hands grab him under his armpits and drag him upright. He couldn’t be sure, but it was probably the two brutes from before. The men marched him forward and then turned him, and let go of him, leaving him standing in some space, feeling helpless and exposed in just his diaper, confused and shaking slightly.
He heard the sound of boots coming closer, and then a hand on his shoulder. Ca$hBo$$’s voice spoke again, this time right beside him. “Well everyone, should we show the pig what we did with all that money you all raised? Think he’s ready to see it?” Two gloved hands fussed with the knot holding the blindfold in place at the back of his head, and a moment later, it fell away. Travis was blinded at first---there were two spotlights shining on him, making sure as little of him was shadowed as possible to provide the best view for all the men watching over the internet, and after a few blinks, Travis managed to see someone---or something---in front of him. He told himself it couldn’t be a reflection. It couldn’t be a mirror, he was looking at someone else, some other thing in front of him, but every time he moved, it followed. That was him.
It was the face---his face---that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. It wasn’t even human anymore. He looked more like some sort of pigman, than he did the person he could remember. His ears had been warped and twisted into massive, piggish ears that stood out from his head, and his nose had been reworked by some perverted plastic surgeon until it looked more like a snout. They had at some point put a heavy ring through the septum as well, that only made him look more bestial. He stepped closer to the mirror, and raised one arm, his hand still bound up tightly in some rubber mitt, and looked at himself closely, poked and prodded a cheek and one of his new ears, trying to see if it was a mask. Oddly, there was a broad piece of duct tape across his forehead, like there was something there that they didn’t want to expose, but with his hands bound, he wouldn’t be able to remove it himself.
“Do you like it, piggy?’ Ca$hBo$$ said behind him. “The surgeons worked on you for almost an entire week, and it took you months to heal. The things that modern cosmetic surgery can do. They had grow cartilage now, did you know that? There’s nothing synthetic in those ears or that snout of yours. They printed it and grafted your own skin on top of it---that’s your new face, don’t you like it?”
“I...look like a freak...” Travis said, though his words were garbled and slurred, thanks to his new nose---and something was wrong with his teeth. He opened up his mouth and looked inside, and saw that his teeth were...different.
“Implants. Soft touch silicone. Feels great on a cock, you’re going to give the best blow jobs on the block with that mouth. We figured that, since you’re mostly going to be on a diet of pig slop and shit from now on, you wouldn’t be needing those old teeth---and these ones will never rot, either.”
He took a step backwards now, and looked down at the rest of his body. Tattoos were...everywhere. Vile, filthy, obscene tattoos, almost all of them involving pigs and men involved in piss, shit, or fisting, all over his body. Across his chest were the words “Public Toilet” and on his belly was a detailed rendering of a toilet bowl seen from above, the water dark yellow with piss, the seat crusted with shit, with turds, cigar butts and a condom floating on top. Ca$hBo$$ came up and spun him around, and he saw a monitor behind him that showed him his back, which was unmarked---aside from the scars, and the words “WHIPPING PIG” across his shoulder blades, and a trampstamp of the words “FIST ME” visible above the waistband of his diaper.
Ca$hBo$$ turned him back around again so he was facing himself, and the camera. “So pig, what do you say? After all, a lot of people put in a lot of effort over the last few months to do all of this to you.”
His mouth felt dry. He ran his tongue over his new, silicone teeth, feeling himself start to sweat, reading the comments on the monitor, all of the men laughing at him, heckling him, berating him. He just felt numb to it. It was too much. It had to be a dream, a nightmare.
“I think the pig is embarrassed,” Ca$hBo$$ said, “Go on, they’re all there---behind the glass. Say ‘thank you’ like a good little pig. Thank the men for ruining your pig body, so no one will ever mistake you for a man ever again.”
“T-Thank, youze...” He said, stuttering a bit, still not used to his warped mouth.
“Now, we still have more to show the piggy, everyone. First, why don’t we get those mitts off the pig, eh? I’m sure they’re constricting.”
The two men from before appeared at Travis’s sides, and each one began tugging down the end of the rubber mitts, which had been pulled up nearly to the elbow. It was then that Travis realized something odd---his arms didn’t seem to be quite long enough. With a sinking feeling, he watched the men pull the mitts off, and where he should have had fists, there was instead...nothing. Both of his hands, simply gone, amputated at the wrist, and the end of his forearms had been tattooed to look like a pig’s trotters. His mind couldn’t comprehend it. He could still feel his hands there at the end of his arms, even though his eyes could see that they were...gone.
“Your new owner and I talked it over, and decided that a pig toilet like you wouldn’t be using your hands very much, so we might as well give you some trotters like a proper pig. We discussed getting rid of your legs below the knee too, but he decided he’d still like you to walk upright, on occasion---at least for now. He might take those from you later---he hasn’t decided,” Ca$hBo$$ said into Travis’s ear. “What’s wrong, pig? Aren’t you happy?”
Travis was too shocked to do much of anything, but he managed to shake his head, side to side, still looking down at his missing hands.
“No?” Ca$hBo$$ said, “Go on piggy, you can still talk for now---I thought you wanted to be a worthless, shiteating pigslave for the rest of your life.”
“No---not this...not fuckin’ this...” he said, shaking now, and beside him, Ca$hBo$$ laughed.
“Ah, I forgot that I’m still talking to Travis. The man you were before. But I don’t think Travis is a very good name for a dirty sex pig, do you? You should be careful you know. I know that pigs like you aren’t very good at holding onto important things like that---either with your trotters, or with that fucked up head of yours. If you’re not careful, who knows what might...leak out...”
He felt it, the piss start flowing into his diaper. It felt strange somehow, not like it used to feel, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. But then he smelled it, the piss flooding his diaper, and he let out a little snort. Fuck, that smelled good, he could just shove his face and there and suck it all out like a good little piss pig. Before he could stop himself, he was gripping the front of his diaper with his trotter-stubs, humping the air, but again, it didn’t feel right. There wasn’t the same sensation as before, which only seemed to frustrate him, and make him even hornier. Then, a sharp slap across his face, from one of Ca$hBo$$’s gloved hands, that snapped him out of it, leaving him feeling confused and bleary.
“You got distracted there piggy, everything alright?”
He gave a slow nod, but his head felt a little...foggy. They had been talking about something, but what was it?
“Now, we were talking about your name, weren’t we piggy? Do you remember your name?”
Travis looked at the glass, at the camera, at the monitor, and realized that he didn’t. It was gone, he knew he should have a name, it was important, but he’d somehow forgotten it entirely. “I...I don’ know...” he said.
“I told you to be careful. Pigs like you, your brains are connected to that bladder of yours, and your bowels. You might just shit your brain out, and that’s no good, is it? It looks like you pissed your name right out into that diaper of yours. Too bad, it was an important, human name too...If you’d held onto it, maybe you’d have been able to keep a shred of dignity to go with it.”
His name. His human name. He thought harder, tried to push through the fog in his thoughts, but turned up nothing, and he started to panic, breath coming a little faster. “I...I need a name though. I know I had a name...” he said, mostly to himself.
“Don’t worry piggy, I have a new name for you, and we wrote it somewhere where you’ll always be able to remember it, even if you piss it out sometimes---right there on your forehead,” Ca$hBo$$ said, reached up, and tugged a corner of the duct tape across the pig’s forehead free. “Do you want to see it?”
Ca$hBo$$ gave it a tug, and then ripped the tape off. The pig winced, and then looked over at the monitor, and saw the word “SEWER” written across his forehead, in ugly brown lettering. Sewer. The pig gave a little grunt. It’s name was Sewer---of course it was! How could he have managed to forget that? After all, it was the perfect name for a filthy shitpig like him after all. He looked over at himself in the mirror, and rubbed his body with his stubby trotters, seeing himself in a brand new light. It made sense now---he didn’t know why he’d been so scared before. This was what a pig like him should look like, no one should be able to mistake a pig like him for a man after all. He should look like a freak, a dirty, nasty, perverted shitpig. His gut growled, and he found himself thinking about how good it would be to eat some right now, even.
“Easy now, Sewer, you’ll get plenty to eat soon enough. We still have one final reveal we need to take care of. Why don’t we get that saggy, wet diaper off of you?” Ca$hBo$$ untaped the sides of the diaper, and let it fall to the floor with a wet squish, and there, on his piss-damp crotch, Sewer looked and realized something was missing---he had no cock. His nuts were still there, swollen and hanging low, but above them, there was nothing more than a gnarly scar, and a little hole where his urethra ended. “We weren’t sure whether we wanted to take your nuts too, piggy,” Ca$hBo$$ said, “But we decided to leave them for now. Your owner---he’s quite the sadist, and loves watching pigs like you squirm after a swift kick to the nuts. We decided you definitely don’t need a cock though, it’s not like you’re going to be fucking anything, are you?”
Sewer felt a little sad, but Ca$hBo$$ was right---who in their right mind would want a stinking shitpig like him to mount them? Besides, he did love getting fucked way more, didn’t he? Almost like Ca$hBo$$ could read his mind, he stuck one gloved hand between Sewer’s asscheeks and pushed his way inside. Sewer felt his ass give almost no resistance, and he just shuddered and nearly fell over, managing to catch himself on his trotters, going down on all fours as Ca$hBo$$ started fisting him in front of the audience.
“Yeah, we’ve been fisting you every day, piggy, while you were out. Stretching this hole out, wrecking it properly. It barely closes up anymore, you know, and this is all the pleasure a pig like you needs, isn’t that right?”
Sewer’s entire body was shaking with pleasure, and he realized a little too late, that his nuts were retracting, and he came, cum oozing out of his pisshole, just from Ca$hBo$$ milking his prostate like the pigwhore he was. He felt more of his brain leak out as he came, senses dulling, and even more left as Ca$hBo$$ hauled his glove free, and a few turds followed, sliding out of Sewer’s hole where they fell to the tile with a wet smack, and as soon as he smelled it, the pig swung around and crawled over, grunting as he shoved his face into the shit, eating it all back up while it’s still warm, his new silicone teeth just firm enough to chew the soft shit.
Sewer didn’t really think much after that. An older man came into the room, dressed similarly to Ca$hBo$$ is black and brown rubber. He was chubby, with a large, graying beard, but a mask disguised most of his identity from the audience, as Ca$hBo$$ introduced Sewer’s new owner. Sewer didn’t really understand, not until the man secured the metal collar around his neck with the chain leash---then he knew. This was him---his Master, and his owner. A switch flipped in the pig’s dulling brain, and now when he looked up at the man, he saw perfection. A man who could do no wrong, a man he would obey in everything, at all times, and with the greatest eagerness. When the man ordered Sewer to lie down on his back in his own shit, he was more than happy to do so, and when the man got on his knees and sat down, burying Sewer’s snout up his hairy, filthy crack, he was in heaven. The first taste of his Master’s shit was the sweetest he’d ever tasted in his life, and he knew then that nothing else would compare. When his Master lit up a cigar, and began singing his exposed nuts with the redhot cherry, he was even happier, to know that his Master cared enough about him to cause him the sweetest of agonies.
And off in the corner, watching the Master and his new pet perform for the camera, Ca$hBoss smiled, pulled off his shitty gloves, and dug his phone out of his pocket. He checked the subscribers first---the Sewer Saga had pulled in more perverts than ever before, with plenty of men enjoying the humiliation---and plenty others sliding into Ca$hBo$$’s DMs, begging to be his next victim, and sending him tribute after tribute. He smiled, and tucked it away. The money was nice, he wouldn’t deny it---but seeing the joy on the pig’s face as his new Master stood up, coated with shit---that was the real reward, he thought.
