Stretch: Stewed

By KickIt
published January 19, 2019
3898 words

Infected by his neighbor, Lance takes the virus behind bars and infects the inmates with his kinky cooking.

I’d been working at the maximum-security prison for about six months prior to the virus hitting. None of the hard-hitting news agencies could say where it came from for sure, but it had certainly made a name for itself. Chaotic, dirty, gay orgies tended to spontaneously erupt wherever a group of newly infected men came together and, boy, did they cum together. Since then, the number of homophobes desperate to cling to their hetero ways had increased dramatically, but the virus almost always found a way to wear them down.

The virus spread fairly fast, taking out straight politicians and celebrities left and right. Social media had blown up from previously straight men unashamedly posting pictures of their naked bodies and clearly photoshopped dicks. It was kind of fun, I thought, though it did feel a little like a cheesy gay erotica I’d read online once or twice. I didn’t expect to avoid the virus myself, but I also didn’t expect to get it at home.

I was pretty poor and didn’t have a car, but my neighbor was kind enough to drive me to work. He’d always been this massively conservative, religious-father type, grizzled and calloused with a tight muscle-gut from the honest day labor he did. It was certainly a sight to see him get on his knees like a puppy and lap at my cock without a care in the world for his sudden immorality.

He gave me the most amazing head I’d ever had in my life, the python in his pants practically climbing past his belt. He could’ve looked down and blinded himself with the thing. It was no wonder he’d gotten a divorce a year before. His wife probably couldn’t slide down his pole without puncturing a lung. If he was half as cock-hungry as he seemed, his son would probably have a fun time when he got back from college too.

My new goal was suddenly clear: a massive, dirty orgy with all the blocks of meat in the clink. It was only a matter of time before every man, everywhere had the virus, so why not do my part to speed up the process. It was like doing them a favor, anyway. Why would you need to sleep with one eye open when you could sleep with one hole open instead?

The thought sent me over the edge, though I had a strange realization after I blew my load. I still felt the same as normal. Even after blowing three loads down his throat, I still felt… normal. Everything I’d read said that I would lose myself in a feverish rut and do nothing but fuck until I pretty much needed to go to the hospital for fluids. Besides an overwhelming urge to try sword-swallowing, which I might have already had, it seemed like the medicine I was taking for my sinuses was keeping me levelheaded. Either that, or maybe I had some natural immunity to dick fever. Irony.

I had my neighbor drop me off down the block from the prison, but not before blasting his mouth with another generous load in thanks. None of the sites mentioned the increase in cum would be quite so prolific, but it was kind of cool. I masturbated so often that more than one shot was a rare blessing. Maybe I had needed more zinc in my diet… well, before.

The barbwire fence circled the prison grounds and practically scraped at the overcast sky. Some poor guard had been tasked with screening anyone that tried to enter the premises for the disease, but without a fever or raging erection (I’d put the thing away), there really wasn’t anyway for them to know my status without some blood (or cum) work.

When I pulled open the door to the compound, the yellow hazmat suit in the guard station regarded me quietly. A grey window on his helmet obscured his face from my view, but it was probably someone to replace the guy who had been infected the week before. I hadn’t heard most of the details, but apparently one of the other guards had come in acting strange and had his pal’s dick in his mouth in a matter of seconds. They’d been dismissed from returning to work until further notice.

“Identification,” the voice resounded hollowly from within the suit, snapping me out of my reverie. I pulled out my wallet and handed him my prison ID, his rubber-encased thumb sliding loudly across the plasticine surface.

“Lance Erikson, twenty-four,” he handed me the ID and I slid it back into my wallet. “If you want people to think you’re actually in your twenties, maybe get some meat on them bones.” He reached into the desk next to him and pulled out an ear thermometer with a fresh disposable tip.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get right on it.” I couldn’t help my slender status. Being a twink wasn’t a bad thing, mostly. My cup runneth over with men that wanted to plow my little hole. Looking vaguely skeletal was almost worth it. He shoved the cold metal into my ear, waited a few seconds, and then cleared me to enter. I played it cool, not wanting to run my mouth too much and blow my cover despite wanting to run my mouth too much.

I chuckled to myself as I walked through the gray cinderblock hallways. I already had the perfect plan to infect the entire prison. I worked in the kitchen and everyone loved my food. A little spice went a long way for the men that had been locked away for a while. Apparently, the little old man who worked in the kitchen before me had lost his sense of taste eons ago and the gray slop he served was… just really bad.

Once he kicked the bucket, I went through some background checks and they shoved me into the position like three days later and I liked it. There were worse positions to be shoved in, if you caught my drift.

I emptied my pockets into my locker, purposefully neglecting to bring my sinus meds. The virus hit pretty fast, from what I’d read. If everything timed out the way I wanted it to, I’d have the perfect amount of broth to fill the pot up with for the entire prison to eat as much as they wanted.

My boss heckled me for being late as I walked in, a fat white guy who was probably twenty years older than me. His chins jiggled as he bitched, and I punctuated it with a ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir’ accordingly. He was pretty easy to sate, and he puttered off to Lord only knew where with a red face once he was done yelling.

I wiped my sweaty forehead, grabbed my apron from the cupboard, and proceeded into the sterilized kitchen. A special team had been hired to clean the facility in the wake of the virus. They came three times a week, scrubbed the stainless-steel appliances, made us toss all the food that had been prepared for the day, and then brought their own pre-packaged meals in. It was frustrating, and their food tasted like dry cardboard.

Most days of the week, a few helpers came in the morning to make breakfast, prepare ingredients for lunch, and deal with grazers. However, a good portion of the prison staff had already fallen prey to the virus and had been turned away at the door. I was the last bastion of kitchen offense, and it was honestly a wonder that there hadn’t already been an incident.

I grabbed the biggest stock pot I could carry from the cabinet and set it on the floor beside the stove. If I prepared all the ingredients, put them in the pot, and then filled it with some… special sauce. It would definitely make the prison a livelier, gayer place for everyone.

I hummed a pop song to myself as I gathered the vegetables and meat, chopped them up, and then browned them in a pan. It felt a little silly to be putting this much effort into a meal that was probably not going to get finished by one damn man in the building.

For the sauce, I whipped my dick out. The reliable old six inches had been raring to go from the moment I stepped into the kitchen. The baby pink skin of the head glistened as I massaged the copious amount of precum I was leaking into it. One hand on the base and one hand on the shaft, I jacked off over the pot, imagining the burly prisoners sucking and fucking each other without a care in the world.

My first orgasm clanged loudly against the metal, though it didn’t even fill it up halfway. I redoubled my efforts, my erection not abating from the first round. My dick seemed more pliable in my hands, almost seeming to slide out of my body just a little more with every rough tug.

I bit my bottom lip, grinded it between my teeth for a second, and then threw caution to the wind. I wrapped both hands around the base of my dick and pulled as hard as I could. For the briefest moment, it held tight and I figured I was just hallucinating from the quickly approaching fever. Then, the dam broke and the flood of dick slapped me in the chin. A solid fifteen inches stared me down and I nearly hit the tile floor from shock. Maybe the pictures online hadn’t been edited after all…

Giddy, nearly ecstatic laughter poured from my lips, the slightly-above-average dick I had sported turning into what looked like a six-year-old’s arm extending from my crotch. I almost wanted to pull it out more, as much as my body could handle, but I already probably looked like a total freak. If I couldn’t put it in my pants, I couldn’t serve the meal.

I grasped the shaft with a shaky hand and almost instantly blew another wad into the cooking pot, this time shooting more than I knew what to do with. If I shot all over the kitchen, they would catch me and my whole plan would fail before it even started. With no easy solution, I squeezed my urethra closed long enough to shove the thing into my mouth. The load was nearly too much to swallow down, the bitter, savory load filling my stomach and then some. Thankfully, most of my cum had been spent in the pot and my stomach didn’t look too round.

I leaned against the wall for a moment, the cool blocks feeling good against my clammy skin. The first part of my plan had already been put into action. I just needed to hold it together long enough for lunch to get served and then the all-you-can-eat buffet of men would be open.

I pulled my apron up to wipe my forehead and then fetched the guards in the mess hall to let them know that the food I cooked was ready.

The two aggressively straight men regarded me with disdain as they carried the giant pot out into the cafeteria. I felt a little more feverish than before, sweating through the pits and collar of my cotton t-shirt. I shrugged off the concern of one of the guards, feigning that it was just stuffy in the kitchen from the cooking and that I would cool off with a fruity beverage and a meal. He made a snide comment about me being a fruit and then puttered off with the pot.

My head was starting to feel a little heavy, like somewhere between needing a nap or needing a shot of espresso. I ignored how dry my tongue felt against my teeth and headed towards the mess hall to watch the plan unfold.

Twelve rows of long tables filled the room, like the kind they had in the cafeteria when I was in high school with the chairs attached. I took a seat across the room from where the meal was being served by an annoyed, overworked guard. I wanted to seem as innocuous as possible and, for the most part, the prisoners didn’t bother me. Despite my small stature, they were thankful for a hot meal and didn’t want to risk me getting replaced with someone less skilled.

I pressed my head into the table, trying to suppress the urge to whip my dick out and flood the entire mess hall with my cum. This must’ve been what it meant by ‘feverish rut’. I could feel my dick fighting against the denim it was trapped inside of. If I was forced to stand in that moment, it would look like I was trying to steal pipes from the kitchen.

I clenched my teeth, watching as the men lined up and were slowly served one by one. They crowded into their cliques and the raucous conversations picked up. In five minutes, the place was filled with the hooting and hollering I was accustomed to. By the time ten minutes slogged past, it was nearly silent.

Some of the men stared at the empty bowls in front of them, with their faces tinged red. Others stared pensively at each other, desperate to make a move but too scared to commit to their desires. A lot of them sweat, some more than the others, but it was clear that they were having a hard time dealing with their sudden urges. Leaning forward to look at the man a few chairs down, his orange jumpsuit pants looked like they were about to burst open.

Without a thought in my head, I hopped down the round chairs until we were side by side. He was a little older than me, tatted from head to toe, and wide as a door. I would’ve been more shocked if he hadn’t killed someone at some point. He kept his face glued to the table, obviously wrestling with his newfound urge to eat a dick.

I pointed to his stiffened crotch like someone might gesture to a picture on their phone. “Need some help with that?”

His expression warped into rage and he grabbed the back of my neck, looking at me like he was about to shatter my skull into the table. Then, I guess he realized what I was offering and slammed my face straight into his crotch instead. The fabric was squishy and squelched satisfyingly against my lips. He was like a horny teenager, wetting himself all the way through his undies and pants.

“You’re wet,” I giggled, running my tongue across the fabric. He grunted in reply, pulling the orange suit down to expose his stained tighty-whiteys. His entire dick was visible through the fabric and I ran my tongue across his head. He moaned loudly, not bothering to hold back from what would likely be the best sex he’d ever had.

The men next to us seemed to notice what was happening and wanted in. A tall man yanked me from the seat, away from the dick I wanted so desperately, and then pulled my pants down. My yardstick slapped the guy in his side, though he was clearly too dazed to notice that I was sporting some inhumanly long wood. Getting on his knees, he opened his mouth and swallowed a good eight inches like it wasn’t his first time at the rodeo.

I would’ve made a joke about it, except the tatted-up man from before had come to reclaim my mouth. He swung his cock out, slapped it on my cheek a few times, and then speared it between my lips. The heat his dick gave off was insane, the musk from his balls only enhancing the experience. I could see why the virus had spread so fast. It was a feedback loop of sorts. A guy got infected, infected another guy, and then the two swapped it back and forth between them to strengthen it in their systems. It made me wonder how the virus hadn’t mutated into something else.

I leaned down as the guy whose dick I was sucking started blowing someone else. It was like the biggest conga line of blowjobs I’d ever seen. There couldn’t have been one dry dick in the house, except maybe the guards who were coming by to investigate. If they were smart, they would just throw caution to the wind and have some fun.

Tattoo man’s first orgasm came fast, splattering a load that was too much to swallow after my meal from earlier all over my chest and legs. I sat up to strip my soaked shirt off and then took it in a different direction. I scooped up the cum from my leg and then probed around to find his hole, finding it a lot easier than I expected to slide in.

Searching around for his prostate, I knew I found it when he fired a few more ropes of jizz across my lips. I teased him relentlessly, jerking him off while plowing his pliable hole with my fingers. I hadn’t intended on fisting the poor dude, but his hole was just taking any and everything I could throw at it. I almost wanted to lean forward and shove my arm all the way down to the elbow, but it would probably be less fun to fuck a hole that loose.

I had almost forgotten that I was still getting a blowjob from some guy until I realized I wanted to give tattoo man the ride of his life. I grabbed the eight inches of my dick that still protruded from the guy and slid it out of his mouth. He protested and furrowed his brows like I was stealing candy from him.

“I need it,” I told him, my voice coming out in a husky, feverish tone. The man leaned forward to try and take it back in his mouth, but I turned and shoved his face between my cheeks. He protested for just a moment longer, though it stopped when his tongue met my hole. The gasp of pleasure I loosed seemed to trigger an orgasm across the room.

Loads from the other men were beginning to roll in. At first, it was just one or two, but the room was slowly becoming saturated with the scent of musk and semen, slowly pooling on the concrete floors. There might have been several drains, but I doubted they were going to be able to suck down all the thick, sticky fluid very fast. Fucking in a pool of cum might have been a little gross before, but it was kind of a nice idea. We’d never run out of lube, anyway.

Greasing my dick up with tattoo man’s latest load, I lined my enormous shaft up with his gaping, pink hole. I was a little doubtful that he could take more than a few inches of it, since he was likely a virgin to bottoming, but he quickly proved me wrong. Inch after inch of my shaft disappeared into his loose wet hole, getting hotter and tighter the further inside my dick slid. I could hear him moaning around the dick in his mouth and he came, for the third time, when I fully hilted inside of him.

It didn’t take long before my own back door was getting filled as well. I figured the old man rimming me must’ve gotten tired of waiting and filled my ass with his growing dick as well. Each time he thrust in, I tried to tighten and stretch as much dick out of the pig as I could. I wanted to know just how far I could take a dick before I couldn’t take anymore, and I just wasn’t finding the limit. The virus made being a messy slut so much easier than I thought it would…

With the penetration from the front and back, I didn’t even resist when another man slid over and shoved his dick in my mouth. Getting worked from all angles was amazing. The growing pile of hair, sweaty bodies writhing in lust and pleasure around me made me want to do nothing again besides fuck and suck and get handled by a bunch of men who were bigger than me.

A door squealed open nearby and a few guards burst into the room. However, it was pretty easy to see that the two weren’t as disgusted as the man that led them. After a second of deliberation, the two younger guards bodied their superior headfirst into the pool of jizz and men. The harem descended upon the fresh meat, quickly springing his dick free from his pants and filling his mouth with their stiff, oversized rods.

His protests lasted for a long moment, attempting to wrestle free of the iron grip that the men had placed him in. However, the longer the dick was forced into his mouth, the less and less he seemed to resist. His fellow guards started feeling up his barrel chest, tearing at the buttons of his khaki shirt to get inside. A shock of brown-gray hair ran down from what was probably once abs and disappeared behind the mouth that greedily sucked him off. I made a note to myself to make sure I had that absolute daddy fuck me before the orgy ended… if it ever did.

Where would the men even be taken if the prison was inevitable noticed to be a bed of infection and orgasmic bliss? An idle part of me begin pondering the outcomes of my actions, like, what if they could trace the source of the infection in the prison back to me with some testing? My thoughts didn’t run free for long; my latest orgasm shutting that part of me up. I couldn’t find it in myself to care anymore. After all, what were they going to do, throw me in jail?

Hi, everyone! Sorry for the, like, month-long delay between chapters! I debated really hard on the setting for this chapter and ended up changing it four times before I settled on the prison theme. As a whole, I feel like prison is an underutilized setting for gay transformation erotica. I do have an idea for the next chapter, thankfully, but I’m probably going to write the demon transformation master-sub story I’ve been kicking around first and post that. Hopefully, it’ll be done before, like, Valentine’s day lol. Anyway, thanks for all your comments and ratings for the last chapter! I was super floored that it ended up ranked so well! I hope this chapter ends up being worth the wait! You can follow me on Twitter at KickItBara if you’d like, but I mostly just rt porn and make witty observations. See you next time~

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