brackenousjunk:

Here at R.V. Wink’s Furniture Outlet, we pride ourselves on having not only great deals, but the most comfy sofas, loveseats, armchairs and beds in town! Goodness, they’re so comfortable, almost everyone who sits or lays on one finds themselves losing the will to get out, and not too long after that, they tend to drift off. Almost everyday, it seems like the most common sound on the sales floor is the snores! But I do love helping out my customers, why, just take a look at him. 

He’d come in here this morning, some wealthy college kid looking to furnish his new condo his parents are renting while he’s going to school. He kept sneering at my wares as I led him around the floor, telling me that my furniture was decades out of style, and not in a classy, retro way. I did eventually cajole him into an armchair, and he’s been snoozing his life away for hours now. What do you think he is, 40? 50? At least. Well, he’s still probably a bit older than you are now. I see that you’re gotten used to that big gut of yours now. How does it feel, when I rub it like that? Yeah, that’s good, moan for me gramps, you fucking love it, just like I knew you would.

Still, I think it’s time for an afternoon nap, don’t you?

Oh don’t shake your head at me, your eyes are drooping at the mere thought. There’s a king size bed right over here, why don’t you lay down for a bit? Take off those clothes of yours, they’ll just make you uncomfortable–that’s it, doesn’t that feel so soft? So relaxing? Now hold on, I’m sure you’d rather have a teddy bear to snooze with right? Let me just get him out of the chair…

Oh look at you, already slipping off to sleep again. Now you too–go crawl in with your husbear–don’t be silly, of course you have a husbear? Cuddle up close now, give him a big hug–feel how good that gut of his feels? By the time you wake up, you’ll have one yourself. A couple adorable grandbears–my favorite kind of customer. Now close those eyes and have another nap–when you wake up, I’m sure you’ll find the furniture more you’re style, don’t you?

harvzilla:

harvzilla:

More bodyswap potential from Benidorm. (first post)
Father/Son interaction with props always makes me think bodyswaps.
think you will like these @cigardadclassic

This set makes me think of the dad finding a bodyswap device and tricking his son to touch it.
In the first gif it looks like he’s saying “What’s that?”

Source: harvzilla

harvzilla:

Benidorm.
Not an actual swap, just a fantasy. In this british TV show two of the characters are father and son on holiday together and so many scenes can be read as if the Dad has stolen his Sons body and refuses to give it back and continues to mock his Son in his older body with his new youth and fit body. The gifs where his son steals his glasses screams to me a swap, as if the Dad suddenly finds himself in his sons body, being young again and needs to run off and enjoy it as quickly as possible.

tomgungy:

“So, my Grandpa says he got his suspenders from you guys. He keeps urging me to try them on. But I’m sure they won’t fit, because he’s a massively obese, short old man. He seems adamant about it. I told him I hate the idea of wearing silly fat old man clothes, which made him giggle and say it won’t be silly for long. I’m not sure what that means or what I should do.” – @drpepperdragoon

Mr. Dragoon,

First and foremost, I heavily discourage you from donning the suspenders your “grandpa” has given you on the grounds that you are in a position that comes around once in a lifetime. The person that you identify as your elderly kin is most assuredly not related to you, and his suspenders are of an infinite value.

We have been tracking your grandpa for some as he actually a very interesting figure of history. He has been seen at various times and recorded by singular, secretive eye-witness accounts near people of power.

Henry VIII of England, 

Louis XVIII of France, and good old president 

William Howard Taft of America had all had their run-ins with the man. Upon confrontation they always said that was an elderly relative of theirs. Then the changes would start.

Henry engaged in heavy over-indulgence of food and drink until he needed his armor reforged to suit his frame of over three-hundred pounds. Louis’ head gained such heft, as was uniform to his body, that he required a pillow at his desk to set it on due to his lack of strength. After Taft’s encounter, he became so enrapt with his appetite that he once had an entire train rerouted for the benefit of a dining car and a monstrous meal for his ever-growing stomach.

All the while, your grandpa was seen with gifts of clothing for these bulking men. It was a silly black hat for Henry, a neckerchief of the time for Louis, and a necktie for Taft. For you it seems to be a pair of suspenders. If you put them on you’ll surely become as big and powerful as the best of them.

I’ll send a retrieval team and leave the choice to you.

Best of luck,

The Receptionist

(Photo attached of subject after wearing suspenders found by the bed.)

Source: paylu

brackenousjunk:

Requested by Anonymous

These fucking kink festivals these faggots throw, fuck it’s disgusting, but hey, it’s a fun way of ruining a few faggots lives at least. You know, get a few pictures of some of them, and all it takes is some sleuthing on the internet, figure out their day job, and ruin their careers with a bit of blackmail. Heh, there’s one now–look at that old fuck, like anyone wants to see that disgusting body out in the sun. Gotta get a picture of that shit.

*CLICK*

Yeah, sexy old fuck like that, damn–not that I’m much younger than he his. No, wait, what the hell am I even saying? Look, whatever. I’ll just focus on some of these other fags–fuck, look at that one! Parading around in fucking panties, it’s like they’re fucking asking for me to ruin them!

*CLICK*

Yeah, I know how he feels, they’re so fucking sexy, and the way guys look at me like I’m some fuckin’ fairy makes me so damn hard. I…I love coming down here, really feels like I can be myself, let the freak out a bit, you know? Fuck, look that that sexy fucker! Big old gut, hot goatee, smoking that cigar in that leather gear of his! Gotta get a picture of that.

*CLICK*

Fuck yeah, got my old cock so fuckin’ hard, gonna love jacking off to these pictures for the rest of the year! Not like many guys wanna get with a pansy old fat fuck like me, but I’d rather watch and look at pics anyway! Think I might go smoke my cigar and look at these pics for a bit, blow a wad in my panties, and then see if I can find a few more sexy fucks for my photo collection!

brackenousjunk:

Requested & Submitted by @inchingtowardursinity

He couldn’t believe how long they’d been taking, building the house next door to his. He’d been surprised when the person who’d bought the large house beside his had simply bulldozed everything, opting to build a new house all from scratch. he hadn’t really seen much of the new owner; he appeared to be taking a rather hands off approach to his new house, and in Charles’s opinion, it showed in the amount of work the crew was putting into it. Often, it seemed like they weren’t doing anything all, beyond being rowdy, loud and a general nuisance. 

The crew was full of older, burly men—all of them with a considerable amount of tattoos, most with beards, and every single one of them seemed to be smoking something–cigarettes, pipes, cigars. The smoke was the worst part–he couldn;t seem to escape it, and the more he smelled it, the harder it was to focus on his own work around the house. One time, he’d been trying to do yard work, when he realized he’d just been…standing there for close to half an hour in one spot, just…smelling the smoke. He was angry at himself, and didn’t even notice the fact that he was hard, suddenly.

Still, Charles warmed up to the crew over time. He befriended a few of them over the fence one afternoon. It turned out that the reason things were taking so long was that the crew was understaffed, and the owner was taking forever, on the plans and details. Not too long after that, the men started suggesting he come over and hang out with them in the afternoons and evenings. He never really recalled the meetings well, but…but he sure did enjoy himself every time. There were flickers of clarity–once when he had his cock through a hole in his fence, getting sucked off by one of the workers on the other side. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, but he also couldn’t stop, and he fell back into his smoky stupor long before he came, got down, and returned the favor.

Soon he was craving smoke, but for some reason none of the men would let him smoke anything of theirs–all he could do was suck their second hand smoke from their mouths. It was not long after that, when the owner came knocking on Charles’s door. Charles was in the middle of a terrible week–he’d…simply forgotten to go to work for a few days, and his boss had called and informed him he’d been fired. The owner had heard of his troubles, and had come by to offer him some relief. He had a perfect job for him, he said–all Charles had to do was give him the deed to his property.

Charles refused at first–he loved his home. But when the owner laid out a pipe, a cigar, and a pack of cigarettes, and offered him one of those in addition to the job…he couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed the pipe, packed it and lit it like he’d watched the crew do countless time, and sucked down the smoke, feeling his entire body heating up, from his toes to his gut to his hands…and in a matter of moments, a very, very different man was standing there, chuffing on his pipe.

“What do you think Chuck? Think we can have this house torn out in a week?”

“W-What? I…I don’t…” Chuck looked down at his body, his full gut coated in a riot of tattoos–at least what he could see around his long thick beard, “I…where am I?”

“You’re a member of my crew Chuck. We’re looking at this house I just bought. I want to tear it down and add it to my property next door.”

“O-Oh…I…I guess me ‘n the crew could do it…”

“That’s what I like to hear–now you fat pig, bend over–I wanna fuck your nasty hole.”

Chuck was all to happy to oblige, letting his owner fuck him bent over the side of the couch, and then he went back and joined the rest of his crew. He was welcomed like an old friend, and all of them wanted a taste of Chuck’s new, eight inch cock, and a chance to admire his new, beautiful body; just like the bodies the owner had all given them over the years.

brackenousjunk:

Going to college in a small rural town didn’t exactly have many perks, unless you liked cows. and farming. You liked your school, sure, but there wasn’t much to do, which is how you found yourself at the State Fair in October, killing a Saturday when you’d rather be partying in the city with friends. The place was full of hicks, and it was a bit disgusting to be honest. You’d kind of been hoping to spy on some hot cowboy butt, but there was more plumber’s crack than anything else. You’d been closeted since you got here–it didn’t really seem like a good place to be gay. 

It was early afternoon when you started to get hungry–that was when you spotted the oddest sign–an “All You Will Eat Buffet”. What the hell did that even mean? You went in, and a big bubba welcomed you–and before you could get any information about the place, he had you seated on a bench, and a big plate of food set down in front of you.

“I–wait, I didn’t order this?” You yelled after him. 

The man laughed. “Don’t matter! You will eat it all up, won’t you?”

The words were like magic–you started shoveling the fried food into your mouth as fast as you could, unable to stop, terrified at the sudden compulsion overwhelming you. You finished the first plate, and second one was immediately set down on top of it. 

“There you go. You’ll eat that too, won’t ya? Yeah, that’s nice. I don’t get skinny college kids in here too often, but yer always fun–I think you will be eatin’ a whole lot today, don’t you?”

Plate after plate came, and you couldn’t stop yourself. The afternoon, and when you got too tired and full to continue, the bubba would be there, massaging your growing gut, and whispering in your ear. Calling you a pig. Calling you a slob. Calling you a hick. Calling you stupid and gluttonous and horny. Soon, you were demanding more food, eating as fast as you could, reveling in your own gluttony, and when the bubba mentioned that you will be sucking the cum from his balls along with dessert, you were only to happy to swallow his thick cock down too.

It’s night now, and the buffet’s closed for the day. You stumble, impossibly full, weighing at least 400 pounds. You aren’t a college student anymore–just a fat ass trucker pig, begging for cock whenever you can get it. But you think you’ll be hanging around here for another day or two–that’s the best buffet you’ve ever seen, and that bubba back there was already mentioning how much you will eat tomorrow.

Source: wanting2beowned