He dragged me into the kitchen by my hair last night and bent me over the counter like a worthless piece of fuckmeat. “Time to see what a pathetic, degraded little hole you really are,” he said, already laughing at how wet my cunt was getting.
He started with the thick wooden spoon handle, forcing it in raw and dry. It scraped my walls painfully as he twisted it deep. I just moaned like a brainless slut, whispering, “I’m such a disgusting whore for letting you use kitchen shit on me…”
The second I came, he switched to a thick, bumpy carrot straight from the fridge. He rammed it in brutally, laughing as my legs shook. “Look at you creaming on a vegetable like a cheap farm whore.” My face burned with shame, but I couldn’t stop my cunt from clenching.
Next came the ridged handle of my hairbrush. He stretched me open so wide it burned, pounding it in and out while pressing down on my belly. “Your worthless fuckhole is actually swallowing it. What a nasty, ruined bitch you are.”
Then he forced the neck of the empty wine bottle inside me. The cold glass popped past my swollen lips and my lower belly started bulging visibly with every thrust. He kept one hand pressing hard on the obscene swell, making sure I felt how deep he was wrecking me. “You can see the shape of a fucking bottle in your guts. Only a pathetic cumrag like you would get off on this.”
The real humiliation came with the weirder objects.
He grabbed a frozen banana, still half in its peel for extra roughness, and worked it into my sore cunt. The intense cold made me cry out as my walls clenched painfully around it. My tummy swelled up even more. He pounded it deep while mocking me: “Frozen fruit in your sloppy hole. You’re not even a person anymore — just a filthy kitchen toy.”
He followed it with the thick tube of mint toothpaste. He squeezed some out inside me first so the burning menthol stung my raw, abused walls while the hard plastic stretched me wider. “Feel that? Even your cunt is so pathetic it gets chemically burned and still leaks like a broken faucet.”
After that he taped three thick permanent markers together and forced the bundle inside me, stretching me painfully. Then came the handle of my hairdryer — heavy, awkward, and humiliating. And finally the thick, knobby cob of corn. Each new object made my belly bulge grotesquely as he railed me with it.
“Look at your stomach, you disgusting whore,” he growled, slapping the visible swell. “It’s swelling up like you’re pregnant with our kitchen trash. Say it.”
“I’m a disgusting whore…” I whimpered, voice broken and humiliated. “My cunt is so worthless it gets ruined by random household objects and I cum like a stupid animal…”
By the end I was a drooling, tear-streaked, brain-melted mess. My cunt was raw, puffy, and gaping wide open. He made me spread my legs and look at the damage while he laughed at how destroyed I was — leaking all over the floor like a used-up fucktoy.
I’m still sore and throbbing today, barely able to sit without feeling how stretched and ruined my hole is. Every movement reminds me what a pathetic, degraded, filthy little kitchen whore I am for enjoying it.
Word Count: 2000
Summary: Harlan has betrayed his employer, and the consequences could leave him gasping for air.
Content: Merman Transformation, Shrunken Man, Elements of Fear
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Divider by strangergraphics
“You haven’t been very honest with me, have you Harlan?” The man behind the desk hummed, the words almost sing-song and yet still dripping with a calm, unsettling malice. “If I understand the situation correctly, you’ve been deceiving me from the start.”
“I wish you would let me explain-“
“What is there to explain, dearest? That you’ve been working here under a false identity? That I was part of some wider, undercover investigation? That you were playing a role until you could find the most opportune moment to take me down?” Mr. Price grinned at the other, as if it were all some silly little ruse or a joke that he had been aware of all along. “I don’t need an explanation from you dear, but an apology might be a good place to start.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Harlan breathed, eager to claw his way out of this however he could. “I never meant for this to go as far as it did, I never wanted to get this deep, I never intended to-…” There was an abrupt end to the sentence as the pale, gangly fool of a supposed assistant choked on his own words, reluctant to admit just how far he’d fallen into this mess…
…or worse, just how far he’d fallen for the man he was meant to be investigating.
“Mm, I suppose matters of the heart are rarely anticipated.” Price sighed, his tongue tutting a slight in feigned disapproval. “If I’m honest —and I do so love when I get the chance to be— I also had not planned on you developing the feelings you did. It was my fascination with that particular fact that kept you around this long.”
“Then you must know that I don’t intend to betray you, Friedrich. Let me prove-“
“-Oh there is absolutely nothing you can prove to me now, dearest. Your betrayal started the moment you introduced yourself, I’m afraid. You may consider me flattered, perhaps even endeared, but it will not save you.”
Harlan could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing at the very idea of what Price could do to him, and just how easily he could do it. That had always been the risk, it was something he thought he’d accepted going into this whole thing. He wasn’t so foolish as to think that going undercover and playing the role of assistant to one of the most powerful magic users in the city wasn’t going to be dangerous. Harlan was trying to link him with the disappearances of several people at this point; he had been perfectly aware that this was something he might not get to walk away from.
It was only when the unthinkable happened, when the idiot would-be journalist began to develop feelings for the man, that he began to think that he could be saved from the inevitable downfall. Price had been so charming, so kind, and had practically spoiled Harlan with attention and appreciation and little gifts and dinners since he’d arrived. The conversations had been so rich, the laughter so genuine, that life plans had started to change. Suddenly, Harlan had found himself caring less and less about frivolities like missing persons and a shot at writing the biggest story of the decade; life with Friedrich Price had been so comfortable, that it had simply become life for him.
In a perfect world, Harlan would have never been found out. In a perfect world he could continue bringing Price his morning coffee and logging his calls and appointments and everything else. In a perfect world… Price might love him back, and they could be happy.
But this was anything but a perfect world, and Harlan was well aware that his fate had already been sealed.
“I didn’t want it to be this way.” He muttered, voice cracking as he squeezed his eyes shut. Whatever the sorcerer was going to do to him, he could already feel it beginning to send deep aches through his bones. “I had hoped… I thought that maybe…”
“…Maybe what? Maybe I would think you were special? That you’d changed? That you could be trusted?” Price chuckled as he stood from his desk, suddenly looking ten feet tall without having grown an inch. “ That all the evenings we’ve enjoyed together might make me sentimental enough to spare you from the sort of fate you were here to investigate, perhaps?” His grin was wicked as he took slow, casual steps towards the shivering man seated across from him, the very one that was now refusing to look at him as the first hints of his spell began to take shape.
The deep ache in his bones persisted, now spreading through his muscles and out to his skin where it began to take the form of a dreadful, widespread itch.
“Please, I’d give anything to stay at your side, just as we were.” Harlan whimpered as he began to double over in his seat. He couldn’t bear to witness what was happening to him, to see why his bones were shifting inside of him, or why his organs needed to re-arrange themselves. It would have been nausea inducing, but his stomach was clearly occupied with other pressing matters, and his terror and sickness only manifested in the hot tears that escaped his shut eyes. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to betray you, I just want to be with you Friedrich, please grant me the chance to do so, please.”
“Shhhhh.” The older man hushed the other as he reached forward to pet at his hair. “Have some composure, sweet Harlan. You’re not going to die, and I’m not going to send you away.”
The cracking and shifting of bone in Harlan’s legs told a different story, but still he wanted to believe it.
“You’re not?” he squeaked, daring to open his eyes and look up at the predator he managed to fall in love with — a tall, dark, well dressed man with stark black hair and eyes that could make you swoon on sight. Even now, as Harlan felt himself under the effects of wicked magic, as Price grew larger and more terrifying as he loomed over him, he could not help but appreciate the beauty of those damned eyes.
“Of course not. I enjoy you far too much to do away with you entirely.” The monster cooed, his petting hand trailing gently down Harlan’s shrinking face until he could tilt his chin with the tips of his fingers. “I’m going to be keeping you very close, somewhere I can admire you as often as I wish.”
Friedrich Price had no fangs, but you would have a hard time believing it when faced with the grin he was wearing now.
It might have been enough to petrify Harlan, to cause his very heart to stop and ice over in horror for at least some moments, had it not been for the exquisite and novel pain that had spread over the whole of his body. For the first time since the spell had taken hold, Harlan dared to tear his eyes away from Price to look at himself, though the sight was no less terrifying.
Not only was he already well under half the size he’d been before, he was finding that a significant portion of himself was covered in deep blue scales that might have been beautiful had they any business crawling up his chest and down his arms, revealing more and more of themselves as his giant clothes began to pool around him in the seat. At the ends of his arms he witnessed clawed fingers elongating before him with a translucent webbing growing up between each digit, and along his sides he could see spines and fins of a similar deep red pushing through skin and scales.
None of this, however, could compare to the pain and terror of his own legs. Most of the hurt had been centered there, and it was easy to see why; not only where they covered in scales, not only had they stretched and thinned and twisted his dwindling feet to strange sideways angles, but it was clear that they were starting to merge.
He was turning into a small mer-creature, or something like it.
A cry, almost animal in its pure primal nature, escaped him as the reality of it all hammered into him with each wave of excruciating pain. It was simply too much to handle, to much to even think of for very long, and yet he was powerless to stop it, much less reverse it.
“Please, Friedrich.” He sobbed, looking up at man as he seemed to get further and further away. “I’ll do anything, I’ll repay you in a million ways, please don’t do this.“
“But you’re truly so very lucky Harlan. You do know that, don’t you?” Price laughed as he bent down, not wanting to miss a detail of his assistant’s fate. “Generally when someone upsets me like this, they become the seed I give my birds or little bugs I set loose into the big wide world, and those are just the speakable ones. Why, you’ll practically be living a life of luxury by comparison.”
Harlan’s neck was burning as though white hot knives were carving into his skin, but still he did what he could to look into the massive, terrifying, beautiful eyes of the man who was currently destroying his life.
There were no sounds, no pleas, no apologies or curses; the man who had centered his life around his words suddenly found himself at a loss. There were simply none to be had.
There was only terror.
There was only pain.
There was only Friedrich Price.
And Friedrich Price knew it.
“It’s more than a sneak like you deserves, but I think it’ll do the trick.” He grinned, “After all, Harlan, this is a punishment, and a good one I think for self reflection.”
A large hand, the same that had so recently pet at his hair and tilted his chin, now descended upon him like an unthinkable entity. He plucked the tiny merman from the seat he was stuck on between his thumb and forefinger, holding him at eye level as he straightened his posture, a look of wretched satisfaction written across his face like the world’s most horrifying billboard.
Not that Harlan could take it in, not while he writhed and wiggled and flailed around in the giant’s grasp, completely uncoordinated with the new appendage that made up his lower half. The burning cuts in his neck had split open, and suddenly Harlan found himself struggling to breathe. It was as though each lungful of air was only giving him half of what he needed, leaving him gasping between sobs and attempted screams.
“And I really to want you to think on what it took to get us here, you understand?” Price hummed, the singsong tone returning to his voice as he crossed the room to one of the many elaborate aquariums that filled the office. “Every lie, every risk, everything you had to coordinate to not only maintain the ruse, but to even get as far as you did. I want you to ruminate on every single step it took for you to get here Harlan…”
He paused at the tank, the pathetic little fish of a man still wiggling uncontrollably between his fingers.
“…They’ll be the last ones you ever take.”
In a flash of an instant he was splashing down into the tank, enveloped by the cold water that would now be his home. He wanted to hate it, he wanted to feel uncomfortable or ill or something, but the terrible truth was that he couldn’t.
He would need the relief that his brand new prison provided, and he could do nothing but try to hide himself from those beautiful eyes just outside of the glass.
