Author: wesleybracken8258

A Familiar Fantasy (Part 3)

Arthur woke up, groggy. He was sprawled out in a massive bed, and without really thinking about it, he swung his legs over the side, went to stand up, and instead fell about a foot to the floor on the side of the bed, where he tumbled over, and looked up at the room around him. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t his imagination. This was really happening to him. Derrick was really a wizard, and he was really shrinking, and he had no idea just how small he was going to become. He stood up, and found that the top of his head came just to the top of the mattress–if he were in better shape, he’d maybe have been able to climb back up to where Derrick was still snoring–but as old and out of shape as he was, there was no way he’d be able to make it back up there. Besides, he had to piss more than anything–but how in the world was he going to get up to the toilet, at two feet tall? He walked to the bathroom to inspect it, and sure enough, there was no way he’d be able to get up there…which meant he was going to have to get help, he supposed.

He went back into the bedroom and went around to Derrick’s side of the bed. He reached up, but couldn’t touch him, and so he was forced to yell up at him to get him to wake up. His voice was strange–the smaller his neck was becoming, the higher pitched his voice had become. He was almost sounding a bit…squeaky? He didn’t want that to turn him on a bit, and yet he was getting hard all the same. The humiliation of having to get someone up to help him piss was just as horrifying, and yet also…something he had fantasized about before, actually.

It took some effort, but Derrick finally roused himself and got up. He went with Arthur into the bathroom, lifted the little man up onto the toilet seat and helped him balance while he pissed, and then made him wait while Derrick emptied his own bladder, and then made Arthur jack him off into the toilet bowl as well. He wasn’t exactly enthused about the idea, but Derrick threatened to abandon him on a high shelf for a couple of hours, and so Arthur did as he was told, and jacking a cock which was so large compared to his own–he got hard as well, and ended up jacking himself off after Derrick had cum-and then he lifted Arthur back off the toilet, and offered to make breakfast.

The table was too big for him, so he sat on the floor, with a little box and a little dish of food. It seemed like so little, and yet he was full as soon as he’d finished it, and Derrick insisted he measure him. A foot and a half. Eighteen inches. He didn’t even reach Derrick’s knee. He felt puny, and helpless, and yet so…excited somehow, when Derrick picked him up and put him on his shoulder. The height was a bit dizzying for him, and he could barely believe that just one day before, he’d been standing at that height all the time.

“So what do you think? Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

“Actually…yeah.” Arthur hadn’t felt this happy in ages. He felt like himself, somehow. He spent the rest of the day with Derrick in his library, and while his master read, he sat in his lap and toyed with his massive cock, which a few hours later, had grown as large as he was, when erect. He was shrinking slower now, and yet every lost inch at this point only made the entire world around him expand exponentially. Everything looked new to his eyes–while Derrick cooked dinner, he explored the counter top with a strange glee, amazed at what he could fit inside, amazed at what he could see. He’d finally stopped shrinking it seemed–he was now three inches tall, and looked to be able the size of a large mouse. He ate the bit of dinner his master set aside for him, and then Derrick carried him in the crook of his arm down into his workshop.

“So, do you want me to change you back?” Derrick asked, setting him down on his desk, crouching down so he could look Arthur in his tiny eyes. “Don’t think about the rest of the world, about that life you had. You can have a home here with me as long as you like. It’s been a rather long time since I’ve had a familiar, and I think I would be the first person to have a human one, but you would be a help in certain tasks. So just think of what you want to be.”

Derrick sat down on the desk and looked around him. The lamp towered over him, and the room was so dark he could barely see into the corners, but he could see Derrick’s face–the creases and lines, the age he’d never noticed because he’d never known where to look, but it was amazing how being this small brought the little things to focus.

“I want to stay, I think. Maybe…maybe not forever. But for now, I do.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me too,” Derrick said, “Now, do you want to see some magic?”

Arthur nodded. Derrick put his hand on the desk, and Arthur climbed his way up his arm, sweating a bit when he reached the man’s shoulder, but he had a wonderful vantage point from which to see everything, clinging to his new master’s collar, and for the first time that he could remember, Arthur felt he was right where he belonged.

“Please, I’m sorry…just–fuck!–please, just let me stop!”

Mr. Goldman had been pounding on his nuts with his metal ruler for about twenty minutes now. I was just watching, enjoying myself. I’d tried to warn him about flunking me in his class, but some people just think they’re beyond the reach of punishment. I mean, I could have always just *made* him give me an A in the class–but then how would he have learned anything at all? The only way we can improve is by making mistakes, after all.

Still, I suppose he’s had enough pain for the moment. The next time he smacks his sack with the ruler, I see the pleasure light up his eyes, and he moans, with a tinge of confusion, before smacking himself again. They’d swelled slightly, in the course of regular punishment, but now they were expanding much faster, his sack bulging until it was the size of a softball, and then larger–large enough that it would be obvious in the front of any pants he wore, even as his cock shrank in size to little more than a nub. 

“Oh fuck, how…how are you doing any of this?”

“Heh, if I told you, I’d have to kill you,” I said, “Or figure out something worse than death, perhaps. Are you sure you want to know?”

His academic curiosity was sated, but I still had plenty of plans for my least favorite professor, and he had all summer to discover a brand new side of himself, with my help.

A Familiar Fantasy (Part 2)

Derrick had been so nice about it, despite the fact that it was so damn strange. Because Arthur didn’t really want to be someone’s boyfriend. He didn’t even necessarily want to be human, exactly. What he really wanted, as strange as it might sound…was to be a pet. Not that he becomes a animal, no, just that he…shrinks down. Too small to do anything for himself, too small to object to anything, just at his owner’s mercy–and honestly, being at the mercy of someone like Derrick was appealing, and part of him was worried that this weekend–he’d try to do something to Arthur, set up some scene or something, and he just wasn’t that interested. He was ok with his fantasies being impossible! He’d managed to come to terms with the fact that he’d just always be…too big to feel right. He’d tried, with a few exes, some…things, but all it had done was make him feel self-conscious. Better to just accept his strangeness and move on, accept that…sometimes life can’t be what you want it to be.

Then again, depending on who you know, sometimes it can be.

That’s what Arthur discovered when he arrived at Derrick’s house, frustrated at his ill-fitting seat in his car, both eager for the company of a friend, and yet terrified that he’d do something to alienate him, like he always seemed to do to men he liked. He didn’t notice that the cuffs of his pants were brushing against the ground, but the steps up to the front door did seem a bit higher than they had the first time he’d visited. He knocked at the door, and after a few moments it opened, and he found himself looking…up.

That wasn’t right–he and Derrick were the same height, and he’d always seen him eye to eye. The sensation of looking up at him was enough to send a flurry of sexual excitement through him, but it was just a trick, of course. Platform shoes? A higher step into the house? He looked down–but Derick was barefoot, and the step was only a couple of inches higher than where he stood–but then how…

“How’s my little man doing this evening?” Derrick asked him.

The small inconveniences of his difficult day started repeating in Arthur’s mind, fitting together into a larger picture. How he’d only ever adjusted his office chair up–never down. The same with the seat in his car. How his boss had been at eye level, despite being an inch or two shorter than Arthur. How poorly his well chosen clothes were fitting. There was no way it could actually be happening, right?

“You doing ok, Arthur?”

“I don’t…I think…” Arthur started to say, looking down at himself. “This is going to sound a bit crazy…but do I look shorter to you?”

“Sure. I’d say you’ve probably lost about six inches. Now, are you going to come in or not, little man?”

He said it again–that’s how Arthur had described his fantasy to him, in simple terms. To be a little man, someone’s pet person. Small, even kept in a cage, brought out for fun on occasion, cared for, perhaps even adored…But wait, had he just agreed with him? That he was shorter? And…he hadn’t even seemed curious about the question? No, he’d been expecting it, or something similar. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him. “Do you…what…”

“Come on in Arthur, we should chat.”

Part of him told him to run, to get to a hospital or…something. But his cock was hard, and that smile on Derrick’s face…Arthur stepped inside, and the wizard closed the door behind him.

“Ok…so you’re a wizard.”

“I am a wizard, yes.”

“You…cast a spell on me?”

“I did. I have to admit, I have a certain, soft spot for men who find themselves hopeless in the world, who want the impossible. This is…a new one for me–but you are rather cute, you know.”

“No one’s ever called me cute before.”

“Well, you’ve never been five feet tall before, either.”

“…You can change me back though, right? I mean, this isn’t permanent?”

“What if I don’t want to change you back? What if you don’t want me to change back? Wouldn’t those be more interesting questions?”

“This isn’t a joke, Derrick! This isn’t–I mean, you have to ask people before you do stuff like this! This is really fucked up.”

“But you like it–I can tell. Besides, you never would have come if I’d told you. You never would have believed me. You’d already resigned yourself to the impossibility.”

“But I have a life! How small am I going to get, anyway?”

“I’m honestly not sure. I’m as interested in finding out as you are.”

“I can’t go to work if I’m a foot tall, Derrick.”

“Who says you’d have to work? The world is so much larger than you imagined–sorry for the pun, but it’s true. There’s so many other possibilities.”

“But–Hey! You can’t just–put me down!”

“Why should I? Now give me a kiss, little man, and then we’re going to bed–I want to fuck you while I can still fit inside you.”

A Familiar Fantasy (Part 1)

Derrick walked around the set up in his kitchen one more time, double checking the details of the ritual. It wasn’t something he’d told many people in his long, long life, across a string of shifting identities as he moved from place to place, but Derrick was a wizard, and a rather skilled one at that. The gift had been passed to him almost two centuries earlier by an older lover at the end of his own life. As far as wizards were concerned, Derrick was just now approaching middle age, and he appeared it…but he’d also found himself growing a bit lonely over the last few decades. This modern world was so strange–it was rather astounding how fast things were changing now. His own magic felt almost…unnecessary at times, now that he had a mini computer in his pocket. Still, there were some things technology couldn’t do–but one thing it could do was…facilitate meeting men, and Derrick had, much to his own surprise, found someone interesting. A man named Arthur who looked close to Derrick’s own age, and therefore often seemed childish to Derrick, and yet he was sweet…and he also had something else that Derrick found fascinating. Arthur’s fantasies–well, as far as he knew, they were hopeless. But to a wizard, well, nothing was quite as hopeless as it might seem.

It was always a bit nerve wracking conducting a spell he’d never attempted before-especially one which, he assumed, could have some rather…unfortunate side effects, were someone to miss a detail or two. Still, there was no way of knowing without trying, right? He focused, and began–in the center of the circle in front of him, a few strands of Arthur’s hair, and as the spell progressed, and the energy in the room thrummed about Derrick’s mind and body, he could see the strands began to pull into themselves, growing smaller and smaller. He stopped the ritual and broke the circle when he could barely see the hairs, the energy pent up released into the night, surging out in search of their target, and he searched about for the hairs–he hadn’t gone on too long, had he? In the end, he had to dig out a magnifying glass from a cluttered drawer of various tools, but he spotted them, and breathed a sigh of relief. Everything had gone as it was supposed to–now all he could do was wait. The two of them had already made arrangements to spend the weekend together, so Arthur would arrive tomorrow afternoon–and depending on how things went, he might not be leaving for a while. Derrick grinned at the thought–he was too energized to sleep, something which always happened when he performed magic too late–and he pulled a recently acquired grimoire from his shelf and perused it until the early hours of the morning.

What a strange day, Arthur thought, as he wrapped up his work on Friday afternoon in preparation for his weekend with Derrick. He was still a bit…surprised that he’d ended up in a relationship with him, or at least, it was a relationship to him. They hadn’t really made anything official yet, but Derrick didn’t really seem to be the kind of guy who liked making things official. In fact, Derrick was someone who kept himself frustratingly apart, so much so that more than once, Arthur had assumed he hadn’t really been interested in a close relationship–and yet, Derrick had pursued him anyway, and it was difficult to not feel a bit flattered that someone as impressive as Derrick would want him, for whatever reason. As far as Arthur was concerned, he didn’t really have much to offer anyone–he was just a middle aged guy, overweight, insecure, burdened by highly unrealistic fantasies which made sex rather uninteresting for him. He’d been to Derrick’s house a few times–a large manor on the outskirts of town, sitting on a few acres of property–but this was really the first time he’d be spending any sustained period of time with him. He was nervous, and as far as the day had already progressed, he wasn’t too confident that things would go well.

It wasn’t that anything particularly bad had happened, it was just that, all day, things had felt a bit…off. It was little things, really. His clothes had felt uncomfortable, his pants slipping down a few times, forcing him to tighten his belt a bit uncomfortably. Same with his office chair, which he couldn’t quite seem to find the right height for, no matter how many times he adjusted it. He’d been clumsy all day, his hands not quite grasping what he’d been trying to do, and he’d broken a coffee cup both in his own kitchen, and it the break room. He’d tried to chat with his boss about a project as they were walking, but found it oddly difficult to keep up. Everything had just seemed a bit more difficult than it should have been, and now he was feeling frazzled, exhausted, self-conscious, and wondering whether he should just call Derrick and cancel their weekend plans.

There was a buzz in his pocket–a text from Derrick: “Excited to see you! You coming soon?”

To cancel or not to cancel? Arthur’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, and despite his doubts…why not at least give it a chance? “Leaving soon,” he typed, slower than usual, because his fingers kept missing the keys for some reason, “See you in an hour.”

He wrapped up his work as quickly as he could, got up from his awkward chair, put on the coat he’d worn in that morning, and to his surprise, found the sleeves were an inch or two longer than they should have been. Was someone fucking with him at the office or something? He tried not to think about it, and left. Down in the parking lot, he had to spend a minute or two readjusting his car seat, even though he hadn’t needed to touch it in months, and then headed for Derrick’s home, about a half hour drive away, still nervous, still not very sure about all of this–still not at all sure what Derrick saw in him. Last time had been awkward enough–they’d gotten a bit drunker than he’d intended, and Derrick had started kissing him, and that had been fine, but he hadn’t really felt like going further, and then everything about all of his weird…fantasies and fixations had just sort of poured out of him in a mess. A rather humiliating mess.

Gino’s New Job (Part 2)

Winston led Gino out of the office, the bartender giving the nude, zonked out stud a sly smile, remembering his interview with the boss all too clearly himself. They stopped in front of a small closet, the boss pawed through the gear inside, on shelves and hanging on rods, before pulling out a collection of rubber gear and shoving it at Gino, who just stared at it. He…he couldn’t really wear something like this, could he?

It turns out, after some encouragement from the boss, he was more than happy to pull on the gear. The rubber body suit clung to his muscles, and the whole crotch was exposed, giving him, and anyone else, easy access to both his cock and his ass. Lastly came the waders, which were a bit big on him, but the boss said Gino would be able to use his first earnings on a new set for himself, which he liked. The boss set him down in a chair, told Gino to play with his cock, and fetched an electric razor, buzzing his hair down to the scalp, and then shearing away his beard as well, leaving him with just a light stubble.

“Yes, that’s better–can’t have a bathroom boy looking too old, can we?”

“B-Bathroom boy?”

“That’s your new position, Gino. The one you applied for? You told me how much you love drinking piss, and licking toilets clean back in the office, right? I thought this would be perfect for you.”

Gino shook his head no, but the memories were already filling in, and after both his boss, and the bartender, fed him their loads of piss, the craving was real, and aching. Since the bar was still slow, they fucked him at both ends, and the boss sent him to the bathroom to get ready for the evening. 

His duties were to clean the urinals out, lick the toilet seats clean, serve the customers as a urinal himself, unless he was busy as a cumdump at either end. His first night, the Gino, the real Gino, fought hard, where he was locked away in this new identity, but the next night was easier, and the night after that too. Boss says if he keeps it up, he might even get a promotion one day, but Gino doesn’t really need one. Being a bathroom boy is everything he’s ever wanted, after all–why would he ever want to do anything else?

Source: knightsandprey

I actually really like the red-headed femmy chubby cub archetype that shows up in your stories sometimes. Kinda neat for straight-to-gay type TFs. Though I think it’s been a while since he’s shown up– mostly been punky pigs lately, it seems.

Yeah, I do like those chubby, slutty gingers, I admit it. There was a caption where one of them showed up a few weeks back, but yeah, I’ve been…how do I explain this exactly…

People who have followed me for a while have probably noticed that I tend to get into ruts–well, rut isn’t that good of a word for it, perhaps glut would be better. The point is, something catches my attention, either consciously or subconsciously, and for a month (or often longer) all of the stories I put out tend to become variations on that singular theme. 

These themes have been brought on by particular fetishes I find, or the works of other authors and stories (porn or not), or external real life issues and impulses. 

It feels like things have been a bit dark for me lately, for a number of reasons, both internal and external, and I apologize, because I feel like I spend months at a time working out my inner demons in a rather public way, and make you all sit through the process. Twinks and cubs and more light-hearted things tend to show up when I’m in better places than I currently am (not that I’m ever in such a state very often or for very long, anyway). That’s part of why I appreciate the commissions I do on a regular basis, which force me out of my current vein on a regular basis, and help keep me from sinking too deeply into my own piles of shit. 

Was part 6 the last part of The Dark Mind? I was hoping for more and part six seemed too abbreviated to adequately close out the story.

It was the last chunk in that version, yes. I’m planning on writing a longer story along the same story/theme eventually, but the story was reaching the point where, either I cut it off a bit early, or it ends up three times as long. Normally that wouldn’t matter, of course, but this was a monthly patreon commission, and no story is helped by working on it little bits at a time over a year and a half.

All right, all right, I simply cannot resist that stare Nick. What sort of a story would you like me to post in order to satisfy your own, personal, TF related cravings?

Well, I suppose that would partially depend on who you are, Mr. Anonymous, because every writer I’ve got Nick’s eye on has got something I’d like to see them do. But more than anything, I like being surprised–so give me something strange and unexpected, and I’m usually happy.

Gino’s New Job (Part 1)

Gino’s gut told him the place was a fag bar, even though he couldn’t be sure, but he was so desperate for a job at that point, that he didn’t even care if it was or not. It’s not like he was applying as some gogo dancer or anything, he was just looking to be a barback, or well, anything, really. Hell, washing dishes? Even cleaning toilets, if he had to. His unemployment was about to run out, and without much in the way of skills, he was just happy to have an interview, if nothing else. 

The place had just opened for the day, though there was no one there aside from the staff. Looking around, he became a bit more certain that it was run for fairies, but a man not too much older than he was, in a tailored suit, spied him, walked over and gave him a firm handshake, introducing himself as Wilson. He was the owner, and he escorted Gino back to his office behind the bar, for the interview. 

The interview went surprisingly well. Gino wasn’t exactly happy about having to take all of his clothes off as soon as they were alone, but he did need the job after all. The questions seemed…a bit personal, but Wilson was forgiving. Gino tried to convince him he was straight for quite a while, but it wasn’t too long before Gino realized he’d actually been gay all along. And that Wilson was…amazingly attractive. That he’d do anything his boss told him to do, anything at all. 

That’s how he found himself on his knees, Eating out the back of his new boss’ pants, thanking him for offering him a job. It wasn’t going to be the barback position, apparently, and Wilson was rather vague regarding what it would entail, but he assured Gino he’d enjoy his work so much, he’d never imagine trying to get another job, ever again. Gino wasn’t really paying attention–he was thinking about how much better it would be if he could get his tongue against his boss’ hole, instead of just the suit, but before either of them had really had their fun, Wilson told him to stop, and straightened himself up.

“First things first, Gino, let’s get you into your uniform–then we probably have time for some training before your first shift tonight–how does that sound?”

Source: homobeing