Author: wesleybracken8258

After you pay the 5$ a month, when do you get access to all the stories from the olden days, or ?

I have to manually add you to the google folder as someone who can view it, which requires a google account. If you signed up with a gmail address, then this is easy for me, but if not, I send an email asking for a gmail address that I can add to the folder. I should be all caught up, but if I missed you, I’ll need a bit more information to fix it–send me an email, or a message on patreon, and I’ll get it sorted out.

Rick and the Beast – Part 6

Prick hadn’t realized he’d been in the security offices for as long as he had–it was now easily eleven o’clock at night, which was a bit of a relief, because there were fewer people around to witness his walk of shame. But a new voice piped up in his head–

Why are you ashamed? You’re a pig! Everyone should know you’re a pig. Besides, doesn’t it feel kind of nice, your fat hanging out like that?

That voice made more sense than he would have liked, but he had to focus. Whatever Master had done to him, he could fight it, he could beat him if he just–

Fuck I’m hungry. I should eat something.

Prick looked around, sniffing the air. He could smell food nearby, and he followed the scent. It led him off the path to his dorm around back behind the cafeteria to the dumpsters. Without really thinking about it, he started digging in the dumpsters and trash for anything he could find, grunting and snorting as he stuffed himself. He didn’t hear the back door open, but when the older, chubby cook screamed, Prick looked up from the dumpster and saw him silhouetted in the light from inside. He could smell him too, he could smell his sweat, he could smell…cum…

The cook’s eyes dilated–he could smell Prick too. “Awww fuck, it’s just…just a piggy,” the man said. “Fat fucking pig, fuck you’re disgusting.”

Prick got down on his knees and asked the cook politely if he would feed him his cum, the cook–who had never once before considered letting a man touch his cock, leered at Prick, unzipped his fly, strutted up and skullfucked him. Prick just sucked as hard as he could, eager for cum. He could taste the precum on his tongue, but that only made him hungrier for the main course. After a minute, the cook came and Prick sucked it all down. The cook dropped the bag of trash in front of the pig and went back inside; Prick rummaged around in it for everything he could eat, and then hefted himself back up. At least he was full now–but what had he been doing? His mind was a jumble.

Why did I do that?

Fuck, that guy’s cum was delicious! I wonder if he’d give me seconds?

Fuck, I’m disgusting, I’m so fucking gross, and I can’t even stop myself, I can’t do anything right, I don’t know what to do–

Fuck, my hole could use a fuck.

Do I smell piss? Piss would be good too.

I need to get home, I need to get home, and think.

I need some more cock.

Back to his room, that made the most sense, didn’t it? Prick walked back around the cafeteria. He passed a few men on the way, and all of them looked down at him as soon as they caught a whiff of him, but none of them needed service, and Prick just wanted to get home, he just wanted to be alone, he just wanted to think for a second, and sort out all of his thoughts, and try and figure out what Master did. He fumbled with the lock, finally throwing open the door, and found his roommate, Josh, sitting on his bed reading a comic book.

Fuck.

Josh looked at him for a moment, confused, until Prick’s musk washed over him, and his eyes glazed over, one hand reaching down, groping his cock through the pajamas he was wearing.

Don’t do it, don’t do it

Prick licked his lips, shut the door behind him, and waddled over to his roommates bed. He could tell he wanted it slow, and so he started edging him, but after a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Prick and Josh ignored it the first couple of times, but eventually Josh ordered him to see who it was, and it was several men from their floor, who had been lured to their room by the smell of Prick wafting down the hallway. Prick was so fucking excited, seeing all the men he could service right there, wanting him–

No! No, you don’t want this, you don’t! Run, fucking Run!

But why would he run? He really needed to shut that voice up, it was telling him to do so many bad things. He went back to sucking Josh off, presenting his ass for the steady stream of men who came in to use their floor pig’s services. After an hour of edging, Josh finally rewarded him with a massive load, and any men on the floor who’d needed his services had come by, pumping at least a dozen loads in his now loose, sloppy hole. Prick considered getting in bed, but pigs don’t get to sleep in beds. He asked Josh if he could use some of his dirty clothes to make a bed, and Josh allowed it, after Prick cleaned his feet for him, and the pig curled up, his nose shoved into some of Josh’s dirty underwear, snoring and snorting in his sleep, at least until Josh woke him up by shoving his morning wood into his mouth, fucking a load of cum down his throat, and chasing it with a blast of sour morning piss, before he got dressed and headed for class.

Prick woke with a clearer head. In the mirror, he was happy to see that some of the changes which had happened the night before had worn off. He had hair again, for instance, but it had grown back in lighter in color and thinner than before. He also had lost some weight, but not nearly enough to make much of a difference, and he still couldn’t feel anything from his tiny, worthless cock. And yet, part of him was also sad–sad to see that beautiful body gone, sad to feel shame and doubt and fear once more. His phone buzzed, it was his master, summoning him to the frat house. Prick found the biggest clothes of his he could, pulled them on, and headed out, turning plenty of men’s heads as he passed with his weakened musk, but none of them could bring themselves to use the pig in the light of day.

At least, not yet.

(To be continued eventually)

Rick and the Beast – Part 5

Pike picked up the pieces of his uniform and left, shutting the door behind him, and The Beast crouched down next to where Rick was still licking piss mindlessly from the floor, “Now, what am I going to do to you? You know, I’ve really been on the fence about you,” The Beast said. He walked around Rick, who was still slurping up Pike’s piss, pulled out one of the chairs and sat down on it. It fit him about as well as a kindergarten chair would have fit an adult, his legs splayed wide, his cock flopping down off the chair over halfway to the floor. “After ignoring me, I thought I’d settled on making you a lowly pig, but really, over the past few weeks, you’d shown me that you could have made a great jock, cleaning up my sweaty body every day, but then you have to go and pull a stunt like this. You have to try and challenge me. So I’m done with your games. You can kiss that little bit of will you’ve still got goodbye, because there’s going to be no turning back for you, pig, I can promise you that.”

“F–Fuck you,” Rick managed to say, in a moment between having his tongue plastered to the piss soaked floor.

“Excuse me?”

“F–Fuck you. You can’t get away with this, someone will find out, I’ll make sure of it. You’re a fucking rapist, you fucking raped me, you fucker, and–”

Get up. Kneel in front of me.” Rick tried to resist, he tried to scream, but his body did as The Beast ordered. “Look me in the eye.” He did, and he tried to remain resolute, but the force of looking right into his eyes, it was only a few moments before he tried to look away again…but he couldn’t. He couldn’t pull his head away, he couldn’t blink, and he started to panic. The gaze was searing him, he felt like he was burning–burning with humiliation, with awe, with admiration, with hatred. It took him quite a while to realize that The Beast’s mouth was moving, that he was speaking to Rick…and that he was saying things back, but even that became lost in the gaze. Soon, all there was in his mind were those two eyes, until the Beast finally blinked, and he was allowed to look away.

“What…what was that? What did you do to me?”

The Beast smiled. “You see Pig, you had a bad memory. I was just reminding you how things actually happened that night, in the frat house–you remember now, don’t you?”

Of course he remembered. He’d been drunk, and he’d seen The Beast there, the man whose cock he’d wanted all night long. Rick had fallen to his knees, begged him for a rough fuck, right there in the hallway, pleaded with him, and his master had given it to him, had fucked him then and there in the bedroom, just like he’d always…always wanted…

He shook his head. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t what had happened, The Beast had raped him, but all of his memories were different, and he couldn’t tell which was wrong or right. Had he pursued The Beast for weeks, before finally finding him in the cafeteria, crawling under the table to nurse his cock in public, before eagerly following his Master out to be fed from the kitchen dumpsters? What else could have happened? He couldn’t even imagine something else anymore. He was a slut, a whore, a desperate faggot.

“Pigs shouldn’t try to tell lies.”

“Yes…Sir. I know, but I didn’t–”

“Shut up!”

Rick fell silent, eyes on the ground, kneeling before his master, the master he’d always wanted, but then why was he so afraid? Then again, who wasn’t terrified of their god?

“It’s time you learned what it meant to be one of my pigs,” The Beast said, and started stroking his cock, the foot and a half long shaft hardening again, “You’re going to drink my cum, pig–my real cum–and you’re going to keep drinking until I decide you’ve had enough–got it?”

“Yes sir, thank you, sir.”

Rick inched forward on his knees, and took the massive head of The Beast’s cock in his mouth. Now that he was hard, Jim reached underneath, grabbed his balls in both hands and started pumping them–immediately, Rick’s mouth was flooded with a torrent of cum. He tried to keep up as best he could, but he could feel it running down his chin and onto his body. Like he’d watched happen to Pike, he could feel his body changing as well, his gut, which had been growing larger since first meeting The Beast, was suddenly expanding rapidly, the hair on his body and face thinning out and finally disappearing completely, leaving him completely smooth, aside from a thinning amount on his head, which lightened to a blonde, thinned further, and eventually withered away altogether, leaving him completely hairless. Distantly, as though muffled by cloth, he heard the clink of metal on the floor–it took him a moment to realize it was his cock cage falling off him–his cock and balls had grown too small for it to remain on, especially as his new fat had expanded. Still, it didn’t matter. He somehow knew that his cock wouldn’t work normally anyway. He’d be able to piss, but he’d never cum again–He was meant to eat cum, not produce it, after all. His mind was dulling and changing, a new sensation forming in his mind which began crowding out everything else. A hunger. A hunger for food and cum more than anything else, no matter how he might be able to get it. The voice of dissidence, telling him to fight back, was also buried–under his hunger, under his fat, and when The Beast took the head of his cock from Rick’s mouth, he tried to follow it. He needed more, he’d always need more, from now on.

The Beast stood up, took a few moments, and reduced himself back down to his normal size., before putting his clothes back on. “That’s enough for now, Prick,” The Beast said, “That’s your name now, isn’t it, piggy?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you’re going to get as many people to call you that as you can, right?”

“Of course, sir–it’s my name. The name you gave me, sir.”

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” he added, and left the room. Prick stood up, discovering that in addition to growing fatter, he’d also grown shorter. He started at his new body in the one way mirror for quite a while, wondering what, exactly, he was going to do. What, in the end, was there to do? He fit himself back into his clothes as best he could, though he had to leave the button on his jeans undone, and his shirt couldn’t cover his apron no matter how hard he tried to pull it down, and Pike escorted him from the station, back into a reality he no longer was certain existed, or perhaps it was him, who no longer seemed to fit inside it. Fuck, he was hungry. He waddled off, belching up some of his master’s cum, and wondered where he might be able to get something else to eat this late a night.

Rick and The Beast – Part 4

Alone in the room for the next several hours, there was very little Rick could do. His cock remained hard the entire time–he could still smell Officer Pike in the room, he could smell the sex they’d had, and he didn’t know which was worse–the fact that he kept hoping that the officer would come back and fuck him again, or the fact that he couldn’t stop himself from groaning and grunting and bucking the air in a mostly-mindless froth, desperate to cum, but the cage around his cock only made him ache. One month. One month, and he could have had a chance, but now he was never going to have a free cock ever again. What was Jim going to do to him now? What could he possibly do to him that was worse than everything he’d already done to him?

The door opened. Officer Pike was in the doorway, and so was The Beast, both of them stooped to enter the room. It was obvious that The Beast was unhappy. Rick could smell the anger rolling off him, even worse than the anger that evening in the cafeteria, and suddenly he was crying–sobbing really, pleading with him, asking for mercy, his cock still painfully hard at the smell of both men. Suddenly, he wasn’t begging for mercy anymore–he was begging for their cocks. He was begging them both to let him please them, and he couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t–

“Shut the fuck up, pig–I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

His mouth clamped shut. Is was both a relief and a terror, to know his master had that much control over him. It did nothing to bottle up his mounting lust, but at least he didn’t have to speak, at least he didn’t have to listen to himself beg. The Beast stripped off his practice clothes and then closed his eyes, his brow furrowed. Immediately, the scent of him in the room tripled in force–and Rick felt a searing pain in his crotch, as his cock pumped out a load of cum through the cage, unable to stop itself. It looked like The Beast’s muscles were rippling, and they were expanding. He was growing taller, his head nearly colliding with the eight foot ceiling. His hair and beard grew out longer and thicker, his body coated with hair, soaked in his sweat and musk. Rick had never imagined that he’d see someone so massive. He was a god. He was his god, he thought, and he came again in his cage.

Behind The Beast, Officer Pike’s eyes were rolled back into his head with pleasure, and he collapsed to his knees, the crotch of his pants darkening as he came uncontrollably as well. “Thank you, Sir, thank you…” he muttered to himself, as he spasmed. The Beast opened his eyes, and the scent died down, now that his transformation had finished. He turned around, and helped Officer Pike back up onto his feet. “Pike,” The Beast said, “you have disappointed me before, you know.”

“Yes sir, I know sir.”

“Today, you have proven your loyalty to me,” he pulled him close, bringing the officer close to one of his putting pecs, crowned with a thick nipple, “Drink–drink and grow, Alpha Pike.”

Officer Pike latched onto the nipple and started sucking, groaning and humping at his master’s body as he did. From behind, Rick watched the fabric of Officer Pike’s uniform grow taut as his muscles grew larger. He was growing taller as well, and soon he had to stoop slightly to continue sucking. After several minutes, The Beast pushed the Officer away, and he turned around, his eyes dim and hazy, something white dribbling from his lips. The front of his pants were soaked, but Rick couldn’t tell if it was piss or cum. The bulge in the Officer’s pants was substantially larger, however, and Rick wondered it it would hurt as much as his Master’s now.

The Beast pulled Pike back into him, listening to him moan. “Now, isn’t obedience so much better than obstinance?”

“Yes sir, thank you sir, for giving me a second chance. I should never have doubted you.”

“Uncuff the pig. Fuck him rough. Show me that you deserve be be one of my alphas, Pike.”

With a growl, the older man grabbed his uniform shirt, and tore it from his body, stripping off his pants in equal force, barely remembering the key to the handcuffs. Rick could feel Pike’s excitement, as he tried to unlock him, smell the energy coming from him. It was difficult to tell the difference between Pike and his Master–but now that they were together, he could detect slight differences. Most importantly, they were both alphas. They were meant to be obeyed. He was meant to serve. Pike finally got the cuffs off, but before Rick could stand up and bend over the table, Pike grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him from the chair, onto the tile floor. With one hand on the back of Rick’s head, grinding his face into the floor, the other planted on a shoulder, he drove his even larger cock deep into his hole with a single thrust. The previous fuck had been brutal, but this was something else. It was like some vital animal had been unleashed in the officer, and he eventually gripped Rick’s hips with both hands and fucked him like a doll, Rick just went limp, allowing Pike to do whatever he chose, trying to distance himself from the act, even as the waves of pleasure coursing through his fat body dragged him back into the act each moment. The Beast loomed over them both, and when Pike finally came, he hauled his cock out, stood up, and finished by soaking Rick down with a blast of piss from head to toe, Rick lapping it up from the floor before it could cool.

“You are a worthy Alpha, Pike,” The Beast said.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Leave us, I need some time with my pig–alone.”

Rick and the Beast – Part 3

It’s been a while since I started this one. Here’s parts one and two as a refresher.

The next couple of weeks were a new kind of hell for Rick, as he fell under the tighter and tighter control of Jim Newman, known around campus simply as “The Beast”. He no longer had the option of ignoring the texts he received, at least, not if he wanted to cum again. The Beast took full advantage of this, and regularly forced Rick to excuse himself from his classes in order to go pleasure his master wherever he happened to be at the moment. More often than not, the need for Rick’s holes would arise somewhere public, usually the bathroom, locker room, or even out on an athletic field behind the bleachers. He lived in constant terror that someone would see what was happening, and yet discovery would also have brought some relief–at least then his secret would be out; he had no idea how much longer he’d be able to keep it burning inside him at this rate.

His moments away from his master were just as terrible for different reasons. He lived in constant fear that someone would discover his chastity, which required him to shower very late at night, and experiment with a variety of different ways to try and keep his roommate, Josh, from seeing him naked. As such, his hygiene began to slip. Wearing the same clothes for days on end–even sleeping in them, became easier than daring to change underwear. The same with showering–it became much easier to simply not bother at all. But, he discovered that he was beginning to pick up new habits, the more he interacted with The Beast. The most obvious was his appetite–it seemed like ever since his feeding out behind the kitchens that night, it was now impossible for him to be full. Each week, The Beast would text him late at night, demanding that he return to the dumpsters, where he would again be stuffed. Those were the only moments he’d felt the least bit full, and he was growing increasingly terrified that The Beast was turning him into someone he had no interest in being. It was that fear that finally pushed him over the edge–he simply had no choice anymore. He would have to report what was happening to him.

But who should he tell? His first thought was a teacher, but given his poor attendance and shoddy work, he hadn’t developed a close relationship with any of them. In fact, they all seemed to rather despise him, including his advisor. A friend? He had no friends. Besides, who could even understand what he was going through? They also wouldn’t have any power, and if The Beast found out that he’d told a student, he feared for their safety almost as much as his own. That left one final possibility in his mind–he would have to go to campus security and talk to someone there, and then go to the police. It took him a few days to work up the courage to go into the building, and finally say to the young man working at the desk that he needed to report a rape. Much to his surprise, he was very understanding, and escorted him into a small interview room, asked him a few basic questions about himself, and then left, telling him that someone would be with him shortly to talk to him.

For the next several minutes, Rick allowed himself to feel relieved. It was all going to be ok after all. He’d just tell them what had happened, and he’d be free at last. And then the door opened, and in there in the doorway was a man so large he had to stoop slightly and turn to the side to enter the room. He was older, with short greying hair, dressed in a security uniform stretched tight across his muscular physique, and for some reason Rick couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s crotch as he walked around to the other side of the table. He sat down across from Rick, introduced himself as Officer Pike, and began asking him questions about the rape–Rick did his best to answer him, but it was getting harder and harder for him to focus. The questions became more intimate and personal, and Rick was feeling uncomfortable answering them, in part because he didn’t quite like the answers that were coming out of his mouth.

“And how did it feel, when Mr. Newman thrust his big, fat cock inside you? Did it hurt?”

“Yes sir…Yes, it hurt more than anything.”

“But it was worth it, in the end, wasn’t it? Because that big cock ended up fucking the cum right out of you.”

“”I mean, I came sir, but I didn’t–”

“I suppose, my main concern is–how can it have been rape if you came? I mean, that means you must have enjoyed it on some level.”

“I mean, it did feel kind of good, but…but I didn’t want him…to…”

“You didn’t what, what him to make you feel good?”

“No! I mean, that’s not…”

The officer leaned back, and put his hands back behind his head. Rick found himself staring at the sweat stains in the pits of his uniform, and licked his lips.

“Have you had any contact with Mr. Newman since that initial incident?”

“I mean, yeah…I gave him my phone number–”

“You gave your alleged rapist your phone number?”

“Not…I mean, not because I wanted to, sir, but because he made me…”

“Why didn’t you just give him a fake number?”

Why hadn’t he done that? That made so much sense, but it hadn’t occured to him at the time. “I…I don’t know.”

“So, you have seen him since. Have you had sex on any of those occasions?”

Rick was silent. He suddenly didn’t want to talk anymore. “I think…I think I should go, I don’t feel good.”

“Oh, I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Officer Pike said, “Stand up and strip.”

Rick wanted to ask him what he was talking about, but his body was already moving, getting up from the table and removing all of his clothes, until he was completely naked, aside from his metal chastity device around his cock, which was desperately trying to harden within the confines.

“Tell me what you want to do right now.”

“I want to lick your pits sir. I want to lick your sweaty body clean, and I want to suck your cock, and I want you to fuck me sir, I want you to fuck me rough.” Rick kept trying to tell his mouth to stop talking, but it just fell from him, all the fantasies that had been flying through his mind since Officer Pike had entered the room.

“Get down here and lick my boots clean, pig, and if you do a good job, maybe I’ll put my big cock in your hole.”

Rick got down without a question, crawled across the tile floor and began licking the Officer’s boots clean. This close to him the smell of him was overwhelming, but it wasn’t until he was bent over the table, the officer’s cock buried in his ass, that he finally realized what he was smelling. He was smelling The Beast. It was the same smell–if he closed his eyes, he could smell his master behind him fucking him deep, except Officer Pike’s cock was slightly shorter, but quite a bit thicker. After he came, he ordered Rick to sit down in a chair, handcuffed him to the back, and left the room, telling him that he’d receive the rest of his punishment in a few hours, when their Master finished with practice and came to deal with Rick himself.

Hi Wesley, I’ve just read your discussion about the NCMC, and I’ve got to say, I agree with you deeply. However I’m wondering if you feel as I do that most sites that are supposed to be for the transformation genre, is starting to be filled with such a narrow minded range of items that there just seems to be a repeat of old items and very little input of new stuff. One of the reasons I enjoy your work is that it isn’t the same day in day out. Also did you right a police pup tf?

I have a lot to say on this subject of repetition, but I need some time to gather my thoughts on it–look for a longer post on this in the next couple of weeks. As for a police pup TF, I’ve written a couple of them, I think? I’d suggest searching for police on my blog. 

Do you ever feel bad about stealing photos to illustrate your writing? Especially now that you sell stories for profit?

Short answer:
Yeah, with some caveats. 

Long answer:
Let’s take care of your strawman arguments first. Number one, I have never sold a story for profit. I ask for support in the form of monthly donations, and in return I post stories for free, and a small number of stories for limited readers through Patreon. None of that is “selling stories” in any sort of conventional sense–its more like a paywall than anything else. Furthermore, the stories on Patreon (i.e. the only stories that require payment to view) don’t contain pictures at all, and won’t contain pictures in the future. So I’ve never profited off the pictures here, in any real direct sense. Indirectly? You could make a flimsy argument I suppose, but the fact is, every image story can be accessed for free, so how can I be profiting off the photos themselves?

Number two–that word “stealing.” Its true that I don’t own the copyrights to the photos I post, however, I believe than my use of these photos falls within fair use doctrine, and therefore isn’t stealing. I don’t claim to own the copyrights to any of these pictures–in the past, if people have requested it, I’ve removed the photo in question, and will continue to do so. We can have a more complex discussion about whether or not what I do constitutes fair use or not, but it certainly isn’t flat out theft–i.e. me claiming to own the copyrights to photos I don’t own the copyright for would be “stealing,” which I’m not doing. 

But do I feel bad? Yeah. I wish I had the time and resources to effectively source and give credit for photos, but the way reblogging on tumblr is structured makes it difficult to do so easily, while still providing the form of content I want to put out. For example, it’s impossible to reblog two photos from different posts in one single post, and it’s impossible to reblog a photo and insert it into a text post. Further, reblogging itself is often sketchy–I have no way of knowing whether the original poster in the reblog chain owns the copyright to the photo they posted–often they don’t. 

Personally, I’d really like to use fewer pictures in posts. If you look through my archive, you can see that the number of photos I use has dropped pretty substantially. I’d much rather have someone like or reblog my story because they like what I wrote, and not because of the picture I attached to it, and so that’s probably where we’re headed in the nearish future.

In conclusion, the premises of your accusation up there are pretty flimsy at best, but yeah, I would very much like to better source the photos I’ve used to supplement my stories on tumblr. But I don’t have the resources to do so, and tumblr’s limited toolset for crediting sources is extremely limited and deeply flawed anyway. At the end of the day, content we post to the internet is content we’ve lost control and ownership over. If you don’t want people using and sharing it, then keep it off there in the first place. If your property is so important to you, then why risk it so casually?

Baby Bear – Part 3

Such a sweet baby bear. A fighter to the end. But now those big eyes of his are empty, ready to be filled with whatever I want–still, that can wait until morning. He’s very tired after all of that, and so am I for that matter. I get him changed into a fresh diaper and then put him to bed–he’s sleeping in the nursery now, of course, not the guest room. He’s so cute in his crib, binky in his mouth, clutching a blanket.

The next morning, I wake him up, and after a morning blow job, I see what remains after the battle the night before. He is quite stupid, I must say. A pity too–I was hoping he’d be smart. I’d been wanting to raise a businessman, but it looks like I’ll have to change my plans. His vocabulary is very simple, his math and reasoning skills are stunted. Still, he has a good sense of humor, and goodness is he eager to please! That’s such a good sign–that means he’ll be all grown up again in no time at all.

Of course, the first few months were spent getting baby to a place where we could start his education proper. Helping him remember how to walk, for instance. He may have been a baby, but I certainly couldn’t carry him everywhere, especially with his developing appetite. This was going to be a chubby bear, I’d already decided–he’d arrived husky, and I wanted to see what he looked like with some more meat on his bones. And of course, I reinforced his oral fixation–he just wasn’t happy without something in his mouth. That helped inspire his new name, too–Orel. A good name for a fatass, dumb baby bear who loves to suck on anything he can get his mouth around.

After those first few months, he was finally walking again, and had recovered some of his vocabulary, but not very much at all. I realized I was going to have to lower my expectations for Orel rather substantially. That’s not to say I don’t love him! I love all my boys, but some rise higher than others. Once I felt like I could trust him to not drop it, I got him smoking. All my boys smoke, of course, just like their daddy. We started with cigarettes, and once the addiction had him smoking two packs a day, I switched him to cigars, which he enjoyed much more, because, as he said with his characteristic enthusiasm, “they’re shaped like cocks!” That had him so excited, he giggled about it all day, but watching him suck on those tobacco shafts sure did get me hornier for his throat more than anything else.

He stayed with me for a few years. Pretty soon, he was tipping the scales at 400 pounds, and it was getting hard to find diapers large enough for him to wear. Potty training was proving difficult. In fact, it seemed that he liked soiling himself. Of course, all my boys like it to some extent–it reminds them of their second childhood more than anything else–but for Orel, he eventually confessed that he just liked how it felt to have a heavy diaper on, that it made him feel like a bad boy who needed to be punished by his daddy with a fuck or a spanking. He liked feeling like a bad boy, he added, and then he giggled like a fool. I suppose I shouldn’t have been all that surprised–someone who’d put up as much of a fight as he did was bound to have a rebellious streak in him, so I decided to just go along with it and encourage him. If he wanted to be stuck in diapers for the rest of his life, then so be it–I certainly wasn’t going to complain about it–but forcing him to take responsibility for it…well, that proved to be a bit harder.

Sometimes, I’m sure he just forgot to change himself, but other times, I knew he’d just keep his filthy diaper on because he liked it. He liked being dirty, and he liked being a slob. Part of that was my fault, I suppose. I’d conditioned him to enjoy humiliation, especially being belittled for how stupid he was, and so it isn’t surprising that he enjoyed the fact that he was a sat around in his own filth as well, but It was a bit of a complication in my plans. By this time, he was pretty much all grown up again–just another one of my bears–and that meant it was time for him to move out and move on with his new life. But to do that, well, he needed a job, but that was going to be a challenge. He was too stupid to do anything with a computer from home, which would have let him be as much of a slob as he’d like, and he couldn’t do anything social with his poor hygiene and lackluster social skills. Thankfully, one of my other boys, Barry, came through for me. He had a fuckbuddy who ran a delivery company, and he was willing to let Orel drive one of his trucks. He’d be working nights, so he wouldn’t have to talk to many people, and as long as he could drive well enough, and provide his boss with a throat to fuck on occasion, it would work out fine. Now all I had to do was teach him to drive–a challenge, but not an insurmountable one, and giving him something that he could succeed at made Orel happy. “I might be dumb as a rock, ‘n I might be a nasty poopypants, and I’s a fat slut for sure, but at least I can drive a damn truck, right Daddy?” he told me one day with that big grin of his, sitting in the driver seat of the truck we were using for driver’s education and I could tell everything would work out alright for my baby bear in the end. Now I just had to get to work on finding one to replace him.