XXX to Cigar. If this material doesn’t suit your tastes, then DO NOT READ THIS.
I had decided to treat myself to a night in the local leather bar, I had been spending more and more time there of late, the sight of the leather men surrounding me, the rich scent of their cigar smoke mixed with the masculine reek of sweat was working on me like a drug. And like a drug, I found I craved it in larger and larger doses.
After I entered, I found a little alcove I have become fond of. It’s a little niche with a mirror on one wall and a chest high shelf on the other, facing the bar. I could stand behind the shelf and watch the rest of the bar, without being easily seen.
I got a beer and moved into my accustomed spot. The bar had a good crowd tonight, the sight of all those hairy, leather-clad men stirring the start of a reaction in my denim-clad crotch. Just beyond the ledge I notice a group of men talking and smoking, their words punctuated with draws on their big black stogies. I had always been fascinated by cigars and had recently been getting more so. I never seemed to go home with a man anymore unless he was puffing on one of those big tobacco cocks, sex without the ever-present smell was becoming incomprehensible to me. I had tried them once or twice, but it had never seemed right, my place was to be the cigar’s worshipper, not its master.
One man in particular caught my eye, tall, with a naturally tan skin, covered with a thick coat of hair and beard. The sight of his heavy musculature moving under leather chaps and vest was making me hot and I rubbed my crotch against the ledge, feeding off the sight of my fantasy top.
Without warning the master met my eyes and smiled faintly. I could feel his gaze like a firm grip running up and down my body, evaluating me like a fine animal. I felt a faint sense of foreboding, some primitive instinct clamoring for attention. It went ignored as the master began to walk over, trailing a cloud of thick cigar smoke.
Moving into my little lair, the cigar master slammed the me against the far wall, moving us back into the alcove. His body was hard and rough against mine, the metal and leather of his vest pressing deep into my flesh. The end of his smoldering stogies was less than an inch from my face, the smoke drifting off the end and wrapping itself unnaturally around me. He took a long slow draw and breathed the smoke into my face, the white cloud emerging in a curling flow from his nose and mouth, working through his beard and mustache.
My cock swelled in my jeans, fighting the confinement of the tight denim. His presence was like a physical force, the ripple of dark skin and hair over his tight musculature a hypnotic pattern. “The boy likes cigar men, does he?” came his deep voice, his breath thick with smoke, “Yes, sir” I barely managed to whisper.
I felt his hands on my pants, ripping open the jeans with a quick motion. My heat engorged cock and balls flipped out as I moaned faintly with pleasure. I knew his friends were probably watching but the lightning rush when his put his hands on my dick drove out everything else. My attention was focused on his regular rubbing of my anxious meat. I could feel my cock swelling under the pressure of his regular motions, a curious stiffening sensation. This other hand rubbed my balls, separating them and pulling. My hands moved over his body, running through the thick hair of his chest. I buried my face in his beard, coarse and heavy with the scent of cigars. I wanted to lick every inch of his dusky skin, tasting the hot sweat and stale cigar smoke. The waves of pleasure moved my body in a sympathetic rhythm to his rubbing motions and I road it for several minutes before a the sound of faint scratching brought my attention back. “Feel good when I rub your cigar dick boy?” he asked his hands still moving on my incredibly stiff dick. “Yes, sir” I responded. My dick felt like iron, hard and rough. I could feel my balls swinging with our motion, they felt incredibly heavy, tugging on my crotch. “Yeah, you got a nice cigar dick, cigar boy” he returned and moved back a few inches, allowing me to look down at this hands on my genitals.
I was confused for a few seconds as I saw a huge black cigar in his hands, wondering how he had gotten it down there. Then I saw the other end emerging from my thick pubic hair and realized that the scratching was the sound of his hands moving over the cigar, hands I could feel on my dick. My hands shot down and grabbed at the cigar, easily 10 inches long and a 60 ring or better. I could feel my hands on my cigar dick, feel my fingers moving over the rough texture of my tobacco skin. I ran my thumb over the cut end, feeling the fine rolled tobacco where the mushroom head of my cock had resided moments before, feeling the rough grade of the tobacco, inside and out. With a small, animal moan my hands moved down, reaching beneath my tobacco dick to where my balls had once been. Instead of the warm sack I was used to, I found two hard rubber stems, pipe stems, leading to large, heavy bent bowls. My balls were two large bent briars, their stems feeding into my hairy crotch. The weight of the heavy pipes tugged as I swayed, sending small waves of pleasure through me as they lightly knocked together with my movements.
My master ran his hands across my cigar dick, running his fingers down and into the bowls of my pipe balls. I could feel every movement and the sight of my genitals turned into tobacco excited something deep inside of me. Where their should have been horror and disbelief were only pale shadows of those emotions and a deep, fear induced sexual rush. My tobacco cock rose in response and rubbed against his hairy abdomen. I wanted to rub my tobacco flesh through this hair, feel its rough texture on my cigar cock and hard briar balls. The master laid his mouth over my tits and began to suck, a strange but intense sensation that left me sweating and running my hands over his chest and crotch, wanting to pleasure him in return. When he removed his mouth to reveal a two inches length of wide cigar where my nipple had been I was not surprised. He began on my other tit and my body arched under the sensation as flesh became tobacco. My stogie dick pulsed and throbbed as I rubbed at it. Fondling it as I had other cigars, running my hands over my briar balls wishing I could stuff them with tobacco. As if on cue, my master pulled a pouch from his belt and began filling my pipe balls. I watched him slowly stuff rich dark leaf into my newly transformed pipe balls. The sensation made my cigar dick and tits jump as he packed the bowls. “Time for the cigar boy to smoke.”, he said as he snapped two lighters next to my firmly packed briars. Taking my cigar dick in his mouth he began to suck, his tongue moving over the tobacco of my cock, drawing the smoke from the pipe balls into his mouth and releasing it through his lips and nose. The feeling of the smoke being sucked through me and the sight of him puffing on my cock, clouds of thick white smoke drifting through his beard and my dark public hair had me moaning in a combination of shock and lust. I began to rub the stogies projecting from my nipples, sliding my cigar dick back and forth as my master smoked his boy’s tobacco cock.
Abruptly standing, my master rotated me to see myself in the mirror. “Look at yourself tobacco boy” he whispered smokily in my ear. The shock of the sight brought me back from the trance I had been in. In a fascinated horror I ran my hands over the huge cigar hanging from my crotch, rubbing the hard briar of my new balls. Smoke drifted in thick clouds from the smoldering pipes of my balls and from the end of my transformed cock. Once again the deep excitement came over me and drove out the other emotions. There was no way my tobacco genitals were ever going to fit into a pair of pants, but somehow the idea of spending the rest of my life this way excited me, I found I wanted to be my master’s tobacco boy, the huge rods of tobacco jutting out of my crotch and tits excited me beyond turn on I had ever experience before. My master put a lit cigar between my teeth and I began to puff heavily, the smoke breathing in easily and flowing out of my lips and mouth, running down over the rest of my body. The cigar in my mouth felt natural and the breathing of the harsh smoke normal, sinking deep into my lungs and feeding my tobacco parts. I began to rub my cigar dick in a hard regular pattern, watching myself masturbate my tobacco cock in the mirror. My master stood behind me, rubbing his hands over my body and twisting my stogie tits. The sight all those cigars jutting out of my mouth and body pushed me my beyond my limit and I felt myself cum, huge clouds of smoke pouring from my crotch.
"You like being tobacco, don’t you boy" he demanded of me. "Yes, sir", I found myself returning. He rotated me and forced his tongue into my mouth, the thick taste of his cigar breath adding to the taste of the stogie still lodged in my own teeth. "You want to go all the way, you want to be a real tobacco boy?" Part of me wanted to scream No! to run with what humanity remained to me, but I found myself answering "Yes, sir, I want to be your tobacco boy, sir". "That’s master’s good cigar slave, boy, your going to satisfy me for a long time." His thick bearded lips moved from my mouth to my neck and down my chest, leaving a trail of thick cigar spit to warm my already sweat covered flesh.
My master began licking my body, covering it with a thick coat of cigar spit. I ran my hungry mouth over his in return, tasting his smoky sweat, running my tongue through his heavy underarms to such out every drop of his masculine sweat. By body felt stiff, and there was a curious prickling sensation in my skin but I ignored it in my quest to taste over exposed inch of him, to lick every drop of salty, cigar heavy sweat from his hairy skin.
He released me suddenly, moving back. I tried to reach for him, to grab his arms and bury my face in his thick smoky chest hair, but found I couldn’t. With a quick turn he rotated me so I could see my body and a small cry of shock escaped from my lips. From the neck down was nothing but a huge black cigar, easily five feet long and a foot wide. I craned my head down, looking at the rough black tobacco of my new body, the sight of the rolled tobacco at the end, the large paper ring just below my neck. “Oh shit, I’m a cigar”, found myself repeating over and over to myself, my mind refusing to accept the idea while another part of me was unbearably excited. I felt my master lay me in the corner, propping my cigar body so I could see myself in the mirror. “I’d fuck you boy, but you ain’t got an ass anymore, do ya boy?” His huge erection, released during my tongue bath, was throbbing visibly under the regular rubbing of his hands as he moved to stand over me, his cock rubbing my tobacco flesh, sending hot arcs of pleasure. My new body was supersensitive, like a long dark dick, and everywhere he contacted my rough, dry black flesh created an almost painful pleasure.
He lowered me down between his legs and held my head in his hands, ramming his 10 inches of rock hard meat down my throat. “You are my tobacco boy, suck my big cock, cigar boy”, he began chanting in rhythm to his thrusting. I felt his meat down my throat, utterly unable to resist him as he jammed himself again and again into my face. I could hear my cigar end scraping against the floor rhythmically and I wrapped my lips around him, craving the taste of his huge cock. I felt his meat begin to kick and throb and began sucking harder, looking forward to his heavy load. Suddenly he dropped me on the floor, his hand moving over his dick as it shot an inhuman amount of thick white cum over me and the floor. Wave after wave of semen splattered over my tobacco body, staining the dark leaf. I lay on the floor, completely unable to move, watching him cum all over my new body. The spurting torrent seemed to go on and on, the volumes getting larger and larger. I watched his dick over me, growing strangely greater and larger as it coated me in torrents of thick semen. Finally it jerked to a stop, hanging massively above me, small drops of fluid escaping from a piss slit that looked like it could devour me whole.
He slowed to a stop and knelt over me. “That was good boy, but you know the best thing after a good cum, is a good cigar”. His now huge hand reached down and picked me up. He held me in front of the mirror for a moment, allowing me to see that I was now completely a cigar. 10 inches long and very wide, possibly an 80 ring or more, it was hard to judge from my perspective. He placed me in his mouth and I felt his warm lips close over my cigar butt. The feeling of being his cigar, an inanimate tobacco object completely in his control called to something inside me and pleasure welled through my new body. His teeth bit off my end and spit it out, but there was no pain, just a light euphoria as I knew my master was preparing to smoke me. He place me back in his mouth, his teeth clenching on my tobacco. With a click he brought up his lighter and for a moment I was afraid, but being lighted produced only a tingling sensation, followed by a deep rush as he drew smoke through me. “This is your new life boy, your a cigar now and there’s no going back” I could hear him whisper to me, “I’ll smoke you down and then grow back up again. Again and again for a long time boy. Your masters a heavy smoker and he’s going to make good use of you. Then, when I’m tired of you I’ll pass you around to my friends, you want to be smoked by all those leather men boy?” The sight of myself in the mirror, a huge tobacco cock in my master’s mouth kept a constant air of sexual excitement, I wanted to be smoked by him and any other hot leather man he choose to give me too. I hoped my master would give me a few moment in my old body now and then, so I could pleasure him in other ways, but I knew that it was as a cigar that I could best serve my master, and that it was as a cigar that I would do so for a very long time to come.