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The Mob's Price

Part 1

for Faceless_Lord

by Draconicon

To his credit, Greg had never planned to get in bad with the mob. He'd had every intention of paying back every cent that he owed to Mr. Smalls, and that had been true from the moment he'd gotten the money to the current instant, pinned in a chair and made to stare across the desk at the large bull. The big-shouldered bovine looked back at him, belly of his suit stretched out just a bit more than it should have been, and the mob boss shook his head.

"Greg, Greg, Greg...what am I going to do with you?"

"Um, uh, you can, uh...give me more time?"

"We've gone through this twice now, Greg. Do you really think that you're going to do any better a third time?"

"I...I think I can..."

That was the first time that he had lied to Mr. Smalls. All things considered, he honestly had no idea how he was supposed to get even the interest payments of his loans together now. He had borrowed a hundred grand to be able to buy his way out of the bad part of town, bought a down-payment on a house, and had hoped that the sports stuff that he had been offered would be enough to get the payments covered.

Unfortunately, the city basketball team thing had never panned out, and considering that was the main sport that he was known for, that meant that there was no way for him to easily branch out into the other sports teams on the regional level. There was nothing open for him, no decent-paying things, and the average retail job wouldn't be nearly enough to cover both his living expenses and the stuff that Mr. Smalls was asking of him.

The husky squirmed back and forth under the strong hands of the stallions holding him in the chair, trying and failing to find something to say that might buy him a little more time. He had already gotten two grace periods, two chances to try and build up the payments. No good, no good, no good.

"I'm sure I can find something..."

"You aren't, are you?"

"...No, Mr. Smalls."

"Finally. Some honesty."

The bull got to his feet, shaking his head as he turned in place and looked out the window behind his desk. Greg was almost certain that the big guy was thinking of where to throw his body when this meeting was done. Mr. Smalls was famous for making people disappear that ended up not paying him back. The whole city knew the legends of what happened when you crossed Mr. Smalls, and what kind of horrors would be waiting for you if you did.

He winced as he looked out as well, looking at the waters of the bay. There were hundreds of places that they could dump a body out there, even one that was as large as his. Six feet of husky was not something that disappeared easily, but out there in the water, anything could be made to disappear.

Finally, Mr. Smalls turned around again. The bull huffed soflty, shaking his head.

"I didn't want it to come to this, Greg, but there's gotta be a payment."

"I swear, I can get you something."

"Stop swearing; it ain't a good look on you."

"But...but..."

"I ain't gonna kill ya. Least, not yet."

"Oh thank god..."

"Don't go thanking God just yet, kid. The deal ain't final."

The bull sat down, leaning his head back and cracking his neck in the process. The sound made the husky wince, but he paid attention. Keen attention. If there was something that would let him keep breathing, then he needed to know exactly what the fuck he needed to do. There was no more second chances. No more possible ways that he could just make it work. He needed to get this right, the first time.

"See, there's a side hustle that I got going. Finding girls for rich schmucks that just want a quick lay."

"Um...prostitution, you mean?"

"Heh, it goes way past that, kid. This is slavery."

"..."

"Disguised as a wedding, of course. Makes it look like the guy's respectable, but nobody wants a wife that'll just do what she wants. They want someone that will do what they want. I make sure that they get it. A good, hot wife that's good and ready to take it up the ass anytime that they want to fuck. Someone that's ready to show off however they like. Someone's that got the right sort of submissive mindset to do whatever it is her master tells her to do."

Greg shivered at the thought of someone going through that. It really was nothing less than slavery, and he had never, ever imagined someone having to go through with that...well, save for in the occasional fantasy. But what the hell did that have to do with him?

"See, I've been running short on stock, Greg."

"And...you want me to get you more stock?"

"In a manner of speaking, kid. You're gonna be stock."

"...What?"

"You heard me." Mr. Smalls crossed his hands over his waist. "You're going to be the next pretty little thing put through the process. Still looking for someone to hand you over to; might be my kid, as a matter of fact. He needs something to look respectable to the other guys."

The idea of being turned into someone's slave-wife left him speechless. It wasn't just illegal, but downright wrong. If he took that deal, was he ever going to get out of it? Not really, not from the way that Mr. Smalls was describing it. It sounded like something that would hold him tight for the rest of his life, keeping him from ever living a normal life, ever being free again.

But what was the alternative? To be thrown in the bay, dead and gone and never allowed to have a second chance? At least if he was still alive, there was a chance of getting out of this, of escaping, of running away and getting out of Mr. Smalls's reach. That was something, right? Something that...that...

He realized that he had already made the decision, or perhaps it had been made for him. Either way, there was only the choice that wasn't a choice, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead as he leaned back in the chair.

"Guess we got a deal then?" Mr. Smalls asked.

"Yeah...yeah, guess we do."

"Heh, knew that you'd be reasonable about this, Greg."

"Reasonable? Heh..."

"Reasonable to keep your life, even if you lose everything else."

Mr. Smalls must have been ready for this particular moment, because he reached into his desk and pulled out a contract right then and there. It was thirty pages thick, but he didn't get the chance to read it. Mr. Smalls flipped to the very last page, and tapped the signature line down at the very bottom.

"Sign."

Looking down at the contract, Greg couldn't help but see it as the end of his life. He wasn't getting killed for his mistakes, but he was signing away everything that he might have become here in his hometown. Anything that he did from now on would either be at the pleasure of someone that he hadn't even met, or it would be something that he did in a completely different town. Possibly in a completely different country, considering how long a reach Mr. Smalls had.

It's this or dying, he thought, looking at the paper. This is better than dying.

He took the pen he was offered and signed his name. He dated it after Mr. Smalls told him to do that part, too, and then the contract was taken away. The two horses at either side pulled him up by his armpits, holding him up on his tiptoes.

"What the -"

"Take him to the Processing Plant, boys." Mr. Smalls chuckled. "He's going to need a lot of work if he's going to be worth giving to someone."

"What - what are you doing? Let go of me!"

But no matter how hard he squirmed, no matter how hard he threw himself from side to side, there was no getting away from them, no getting away from the new life that he had just signed himself up for. The days of Greg the Basketball Husky were over.

#

The Processing Plant ended up being in a warehouse at the very edge of the dock district, right where all the other waterfront properties came to an end. It was guarded by more security than Greg had seen anywhere else on the waterfront, which, considering what Mr. Smalls was doing here, was probably sensible. If any cops ever came calling, they'd probably get all the evidence that they needed to put the mobster away for a very, very long time.

The horses dragged him out of the back of the limo, pulling him along by the wrists. He'd been tied up before leaving the office, his wrists bound together so that he couldn't easily get away, and they had a good grip on the ties to keep him from dragging backwards. Despite his upper body strength, he couldn't even drag his ties free.

As they approached the wire fence that surrounded the Plant, one of the security guards - a zebra - stepped up and held out a hand, gesturing for them to stop. He had a gun. A big one. Greg stared at it for a moment before realizing that they were talking about him.

"- new for Processing," one of the goons dragging him around said. "The boss wants this one done special."

"How special?" the zebra asked.

"All the stops pulled. Get him like a bimbo. Just the body."

"Just the body, huh? That's a little tougher."

"Yeah, but that's what the boss wants. You do it."

"...Heh, no extra bonuses for this one?"

"Only if you do it right, Alfred."

"As always. Fuck." The zebra looked down at him. "So, what the fuck's your name, kid?"

"Greg," the husky muttered.

"Well, Greg, that's not going to be your name after today. When we're done with you, you're going to be answering to Gina. Got me?"

"...What?"

"...Oh, you don't know." Alfred chuckled. "Alright. This just got that much more fun. Hand him over, guys, I can take it from here."

The other horses passed him to the zebra. Before he knew it, they were through the fence and on the other side. The limo zoomed away, leaving him in the possession of someone that had a very big gun, and who, if anything, seemed even stronger than the other goons.

"I'm Alfred. While you're here, you're going to call me 'Sir.' You understand?"

"Uh...uh, yes, sir."

"That's better. Boss didn't tell you what's going to happen?"

"He...he might have mentioned slave stuff," he said as they walked along, making their way to the front door of the warehouse. "He didn't tell me anything else."

"Heh, that's great. Can't wait to see your face."

Greg couldn't imagine what he would be seeing, but even his brief moment to ruminate on what it could be didn't match what the unveiling showed. The main door opened, and his eyes went wide.

On the first floor of the warehouse were many men, each one strapped down and tied up. All of them were naked, their cocks forced hard. They had to be; no natural arousal had that level of veininess to the shafts, and they never got quite that heavy-balled when they were normally jerking off. Some of them had their cocks in milkers, while others had milkers pressed around their chest. He took a second glance, his eyes going wider as he saw that some of them were lactating, somehow, their nipples oozing as much fluid as their cocks, and perhaps even more.

The further down the line he looked - and there were lines of bound men on either side of the first floor - the more that he realized that they were being changed. Some of them were already warped to the point where they were all but unrecognizable as men, and some of them were just starting. The ones closest to the door were the ones that didn't have much in the way of changes yet, while the ones further from had breasts, curves, asses, hips...

Greg couldn't help but stare, his eyes going wider and his face going paler as he realized that this was more than just slavery, more than just a forced marriage. This was a total conversion, turning him into a proper 'wife' for someone. He wheezed, on the verge of having a panic attack until Alfred slapped his back. Hard. He gasped, coughing, and the zebra chuckled.

"God, I love seeing that."

"What...how..."

"There's plenty of tech out there that's not on the public sector yet. The boss has a lot of connections, too."

"...You're going to..."

"Turn ya femme? Yep."

"...Why?"

"Because the richest guys aren't gonna admit that they prefer guy-ass to fem-ass. They gotta hide it. So, you gotta look the part if you're going to be a sold-wife."

"..."

"And that means that you're going to go all bimbo. Lucky you, though; the boss doesn't want me messing with your head so much, so you aren't going to go total bimbo. That's gotta feel better to you, huh?"

He didn't know what he felt. The husky felt like he was in a state of shock as he was led to the far end of the warehouse, and then dragged towards the stairs to the second level. Alfred was still talking.

"See, the boss does two types of training and conversion here. The guys down on the first floor, they're gonna be shipped off to different brothels all around the country. They're gonna be the cheap ones, the guys that just take cock and do what they're told. Not that hard, not that interesting, but they bring in the money from the sex trade. Always good to keep up a good bit of fuck-stock down there.

"But you, though. You're going to be part of the wedding program. That means that you gotta be as feminine as possible. Hyper-feminine, all kinds of fuckable. We're going to give you big breasts, big ass, and big lips. Yeah, fucking huge lips. And you're going to be in chastity for the rest of your life, more than likely, unless whoever gets you decides that they like seeing you cum like a fountain. Those balls are gonna swell hard, boy."

"You...you can't..."

"You signed a contract, kid. You know what the alternative is."

They reached the second floor. He was out of it from the time that they stepped off the staircase to the time that they entered a private room. He only snapped out of it when Alfred pulled out a pair of scissors and cut his shirt off.

"H-hey!"

"Kid, either shut up and go along with this, or get back out there for them to dump you in the bay. I don't got time to make you feel better about this."

The whole surrealness of the situation made him feel worse, but he knew that he didn't have a choice. He shivered as the scissors stripped him of his clothes, soon leaving him completely naked. His shoes were the last things cut away, leaving him bare naked in front of the zebra. Alfred looked down at him with his head cocked to the side.

"Not doing too bad, but not that feminine." The zebra cupped his cock. "Not doing bad here, at all. Some of the buyers really like their 'ladies' to have some serious heft down there, so that might actually be good for you."

"Mmmph..."

"Well, let's get you hooked up to the machine."

Finally snapping out of his funk enough to realize that they were in a room with more than just the pair of them, he looked at the 'machine'. It was a huge thing, something twice his height, and more than three times as wide as he'd be with his arms spread out. He could see that he could be positioned in any number of ways within the center of it, with his waist always gripped by a binding restraint bar in the middle, with the rest of the little restraints able to attach and detach depending on just how he was being held at any given point.

Alfred dragged him into the center. Tying him up, the zebra positioned him so that his arms were pulled off to the side, his legs were spread wide, and he was basically balanced right over a pole that was aimed right for his ass. He blushed worse as he realized that there were all kinds of spray-blasters, emitters, and other things that were all over the inside of the machine, and as he looked up, he saw things that looked like hypno-visors. He gulped, only for Alfred to chuckle.

"Hey, I said that we weren't doing any of that kind of stuff. Boss wants only the physical change for now."

"Why?"

"Search me."

Alfred stepped to the side, leaving Greg staring straight ahead and trying not to think too hard about what was about to happen to him. He knew that it was going to be bad, knew that he was going to be altered in a way that would be hard to reverse - if that was even possible - but he told himself that it was better than the alternative.

He wasn't sure if he believed himself. The humiliation alone -

"Alright, that should have you changed in a couple of days. Don't worry, the machine will feed you and...take care of things," the zebra said with a laugh. "But you'll be a good girl. A very, very good girl."

"Wait, days?"

"You thought this was faster?"

"I...I thought..."

"Don't worry. You'll get changed fast enough. But there's limits to tech. Sometimes, you gotta bite the bullet and wait."

Alfred hit one last button, and the machine hummed to life. The vibration of the center restraint bar around his middle almost got him giggling from the tickles that it gave his side and spine, but that died quickly as the other restraints snapped tighter around his arms and legs. They pulled his feet down, settling them in some sort of plastic mold, while other, rubberized cups came down and covered his chest, pulling his nipples and a good bit of his pecs into them.

As he was trying to get used to that pressure, other tubes started rising, moving up and wrapping around his lower body. One pressed down against his cock, utilizing some sort of vacuum tech to pull it up and into the tube, while another rounded, rubber cup pressed against his balls, pulling them down and into it. It felt like someone had gotten a good grip on his sac, but there was something else there, something that was between a liquid and a gel getting rubbed into his junk.

"Nnngh...what...what - mmph!"

Greg gasped as his mouth was forced open by another machine arm, a dick attachment shoved into his muzzle and pressing backwards. It wasn't so fast as a rough face-fuck - he had gotten to experience that when he was younger, when he wasn't a senior on the team, and that had been rough - but it was firm, forcing him to really struggle to take it properly.

It stopped just before he would have started gagging, and the machine beeped. Had it...had that just been to measure where his gag reflex was? He didn't know how to feel about that, honestly. It felt a bit on the unfair side, for sure.

As the machine dildo started sliding forward and back, forward and back along his tongue and into his throat, the other parts of the machine kicked into gear. He could feel sprays hitting him from behind, along his back, over his chest through the rubber cups. His entire body was saturated with the strange stuff, smelling almost flowery, but more than that, feeling tingly against his skin. It contracted, pushing, pulling. In some cases, it felt tight, in others, loose. Was it some sort of rubber? He didn't know, he really didn't know.

Greg groaned as he felt a rod coming up between his ass cheeks, rubbing against his pucker gently. He shivered, knowing that was going to be part of the training, knowing that it was coming, but still finding it hard to really make himself accept it. The husky shifted slightly, trying to raise his hips that little bit so that he could avoid it for a bit longer, but the machine made sure that he couldn't escape. This was his fate.

POP!

The dildo slid into his ass, and just like the one in his mouth, it seemed coated in something, something slimy and thick at the same time, something that was rubbing around against his insides and making it feel so different, so much more...intense, sensitive, like he was becoming something different. He shivered; just what were they going to do with him?

#

He hung there, getting fucked, getting rubbed, getting sucked, getting used by the machine for who knew how long before he noticed the first difference. He didn't know how he'd missed it, but when the dildo arm thrusting down his throat pulled back, switching out for a bigger model, he was able to look down. His eyes went wide as he saw that his chest was growing, pulling out, dragged forward by the vacuum of the rubber cups against his pecs.

Shit...shit...

He couldn't believe what he was seeing, but there it was. His chest was turning from a male's hard pecs to a female's soft breasts, and there was no denying it. It was just there, impossible to miss, impossible to look away from.

They weren't that big yet, but they were still growing, still. They were barely more than B-cups, but they were stretching, straining, and his nipples were definitely bigger, more obvious. They looked like they'd be targets to whoever wanted to play with his chest, and that thought alone was enough to leave him shivering. The soft tug, tug, tug, the suck, suck, suck of the machine, made him remember all too well that he was going to be sold off. The machine wasn't going to leave him with much of his masculinity. It was going to turn him into a -

And then the dildo arm came down again, this time with something horse-shaped. He stared at it, gulping, seeing that it was dripping with some kind of chemical. Whatever it was, he had no chance to challenge it, because it started slamming down his throat almost without warning, and definitely without mercy.

#

Some time later - perhaps as much as hours later, considering that he was half-sure that the sun had gone down - he was given a short break. The machine pulled the dildos free of his holes, and he was given a chance to 'relieve' himself properly. The machine made it awkward, of course, but that was par for the course.

He looked down at himself again. His breasts had grown to the high-size of C-cups, but he would bet that wasn't the end of it. They were making him a bimbo, and that meant that they'd be even bigger than that by the time that he was allowed to go 'free' of the machine. He looked down at his cock and balls, half-expecting to see them shrunken away, but there was nothing of that sort going on. If anything, they looked slightly bigger, particularly his cock, which felt swollen inside of the milking tube, almost like it had been forced to get fatter and wasn't fitting properly anymore.

But further down than that...

His feet had been in those strange rubber molds the entire time, and as far as he'd been aware, nothing had happened to them. He'd been wrong. As the molds fell away, he was made to see the underside. A hint of circuitry could be seen under the skin, almost like someone had installed some sort of machinery in his feet. His mouth fell open, and he tried to shake his head -

"Ah!"

A sudden shock ran through his feet, a shock that hit him right in the dick. A shot of pre-cum ran out of his cock, and he realized that there was some sort of remote-control that ran to the circuit lines in his soles, now, something that made it so that other people could play with his feet how they wanted.

More than that, his claws had been painted, given a purple sheen rather than their natural black look, and he blushed worse as he realized just how much more feminine the undersides of his feet looked. They looked as if they had been treated at a spa, given all kinds of pampering, looking softer than they ever had.

Then the break was over, and he was dragged back to the proper position by the machines.

#

He was aware of another change a few hours later. His ass cheeks were bouncing, shaking, jiggling in a way that they had never done before. Even the few times that he had experienced some pleasure on a dildo, he had never jiggled like this. Another change, he realized, another change to go with all the other curves that had covered his body.

The ones that had grown bigger were precisely where the spray at the start had made him feel loose and saggy. The whole thing was a mess, something that he could hardly believe was happening, and yet...yet...

Something about it was hitting his libido, apparently, because even when his cock was allowed freedom from the milking tube - something that happened for five minutes every hour - he was still dripping. He couldn't stop. Some part of him was enjoying the transformation, even if, mentally, he wasn't entirely on-board for it.

The transformation had reached his hips, too, filling them out. He could feel the new heft there, knowing that it would make him walk differently, and...and he wasn't sure that he cared as much anymore.

The pleasure continued, drawing him further down...

#

Anal was now better than the feeling of the milker around his cock, and the moment he realized that, the milker stopped. It pulled off his shaft, revealing something that had been thickened, lengthened from what he used to have. He wanted to say that it was bigger, sexier, more alluring, but no. As soon as the sucking stopped, his cock went down, sagging, ready to be a flaccid thing if he didn't have -

Thrust.

The sudden grind on his prostate sent his cock flying upwards, almost as if his body had been conditioned to only get hard if he was getting something from the other end. His cheeks burned in the humiliation that followed, trying not to think about that, only for -

ZZZZAP!

Another zap from his feet, from the circuits that ran through the skin. His cock jerked again, showing just how attached to the other stimulation he had become. He whimpered, gasping, shivering, half-expecting something else -

"AHHHH!"

And getting it. The rubber cups that had surrounded his breasts popped off, leaving them to fall down. They were huge, too huge, almost too huge? They were big, hard to tell just how big, but there was some part of him that enjoyed that, just like there was some part that enjoyed the new, thicker ass. He moaned under his breath, huffing, puffing, and tried not to think about how his lips felt different, how they were not quite feeling right compared to what they had been.

Bimbo, he remembered, and he groaned under his breath as he knew what that meant.

#

Alfred returned. Was it a few days? One day? Greg didn't know, but when the machine turned off, he wasn't able to stand. He fell to all fours, his tail staying up, feeling like his entire body was on fire and needy. His nipples were hard as they could be, his cock throbbed, swelled, spat pre-cum over the floor, and his balls felt bloated to the extreme. Hell, they even felt bigger than they had been, something that he had been sure had been his imagination up until the last few seconds.

"Roll over."

Alfred's command was just strong enough that he was able to obey, rolling onto his side and staring up at the other man. The zebra looked down at him with his head cocked to the side, glancing from feet to head.

It was quite a transformation, he knew. His feet felt like they had gained an inch or two in length, and they were softer along the sole than they had ever been. His cock was two inches bigger, reaching ten inches total, and his balls hung down further. His hips and ass were huge, the sort of thing that grabbed the attention of other males and demanded that they get down to fucking right then and there. He had massive breasts, and...

And he could feel his new, bimbo lips. They were swollen, forcing his mouth into a perpetual smile of sorts, and he whimpered as he reached up and touched them. The frequent friction of the blowjobs that he had been giving in the machine, combined with the chemicals that had coated the dildo, had made his mouth into something that was made for blowjobs.

"Mmmph..."

"Well, looks like the machine did its job."

"Mmmph..."

"Come on. On your feet."

Greg couldn't do it. He had to have help, and when Alfred gave it to him, he wobbled from foot to sensitive foot, feeling the sheer pleasure that came from having feet that had been tended to like that. He groaned under his breath, trying to find some sort of way to center himself, but it was hard. Very hard.

"Well, you're definitely going to make someone happy, kid." The zebra chuckled. "Almost wish it was me instead of some schmuck out there."

"Mmmph..."

"You can still talk, you know."

"Hard..."

"You better start practicing. Men like to be worshiped."

"Mmmph...I don't..."

"Do you want the alternative?"

"...No..."

"Good. Now, turn around. Show me that ass; it's the part that's gonna get the most use. And we better start taking your measurements, too."

"Measurements?"

"You need a chastity rod, a ring, some anklets...trust me, you're going to be decked out in all kinds of accessories before we're done with that kind of stuff."

Chastity rod?

The whole situation was completely overwhelming, and Greg didn't know what the hell he was going to do next. Or rather, what would be done to him. What kind of things waited in the future? What other changes did Mr. Smalls have in mind for him? And how the hell was he going to get out from under this when he was already so much NOT himself?

The End

Summary: Greg made the mistake of owing the mob money. Rather than offing him, they offer him a chance to make good in a different way...

Tags: M/solo, F/solo, cock growth, ball growth, ass growth, breast growth, machine, mob, milking tube, dildo, oral, anal, transformation, series,