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If I may say something, I think the reason why a lot of people (including myself) would like to see you do fan fiction is because no one else does in this genre. Stories of men being turned into fat pigs are already rare, but fanfics of that are practically non-existent.

Well, yes. Part of the issue, I think, is that most of the sites which support this genre have, over time, tightened their restrictions on copyrighted characters, especially over on Choose Your Own Change, where there actually was quite a lot of fan fiction, including some of the slobbier variety. That said, that site has removed all of that content at this point, and the gay spiral stories seems to have a a tighter grip on the copyrighted stuff than the NCMC ever did. Without an environment to nurture these kinds of stories, it’s hardly surprising that they’re rare.

But I’m only one person, there’s only so much that I can write, and the only reason I’m as prolific as I am is because I focus on writing stories that I enjoy. Would I be willing to do fan fiction for a commission? Probably. Do I understand that there is a massive, untapped demand here, and do I wish I had the time, energy, and willpower to supply that demand? I sure do, but I can’t clone myself. That said, there are other very good writers on the tumblr-verse and on other sites who might have the time and energy to invest in it, so I’d suggest asking around to some other writers, and seeing if there’s any other interest in this sort of thing.

Because honestly? I’d like to read these stories too–but i don’t necessarily want to be the one to write them.

How much petitioning do we need to get a Wario story or two–or that Johnny Bravo thing from last week? Do you have something against writing characters that aren’t yours?

I am just not into fan fiction to be honest. I understand the appeal, but I have so many original ideas rolling around in my head at any given moment that using characters made by someone else always feels…uninteresting? That’s not the right word really, because I do think it is interesting, but it doesn’t feel true to my writing. I’d get a small way into it, and the characters would be going sideways, and I’d end up with something entirely different that no longer even made sense as fanfic, or I’d just get frustrated, burnt out, and end it prematurely. 

The question I always ask myself, is what does the story gain by featuring these pop culture characters? What do I get out of using Wario and Mario, as opposed to an original character? What do my readers get out of it? I mean, people must get *something* out of it more than usual, given the sheer amount of fan fic in existence. But I also feel like the real world is so fucked, that I’d rather try and write about this shit where we really live, about the things that bind us here, about the ways we’re all so broken and miserable, about other ways of existing outside and beyond these systems that I detest with so much of my being, that I can’t see the worth is spending time making pop culture characters dance a sexy jig. 

I mean, maybe none of it matters, maybe nihilism cancels out everything. But the shit I write makes me feel better about the world, in some fucked up sense. It makes me feel like I’m grappling with how much I hate it. The stuff I write feels like survival in a way that is probably impossible to explain without spilling several thousand more words, but I’ll try and cut to the chase. Fanfic feels like escapism to me. That’s not meant as a slap or an indictment; escapism is fine, that’s what a lot of people thrive on, but not me. I’d rather wallow in ruins, I suppose, and fantasize about dragging other people down with me. Wario can’t give me that. J.B. can’t give me that. I have nothing against people who want to do that, but it just isn’t my drive.

That said, I think there is some absolutely exceptional fanfic out there that does work, and works really well. The best example I have, is the Steven Universe Shattersong AU developed and illustrated by @todayilust4 (a.k.a. Blazing Cheeks). It’s sweet, and it’s beautiful, and like that show, it taps into something really marvelous in reality too. It can be done! I just don’t think I’m the person to do it.

The Power of Society (Part 6)

WARNING: INCONTINENCE, SCAT

Simon tugged his shirt down again as he walked, trying to cover his hairy gut as best he could already sweaty and winded after the one block walk towards campus proper. Fuck, why did he keep doing this? He hated walking, he hated going to class. He felt like a fucking dumbass now–and everyone at the frat hated him for even trying. Hell, he kind of hated himself for trying, even, but he did it anyway. Sure, he was just a fat, slovenly, cum-hungry nerd, but maybe he could still make something of himself. There had to be something more to life than jacking off to filthy porn and playing video games, right? Well, maybe there was, for guys who weren’t nerds like him, but something still told him that he needed to try.

“Oh fuck, is that–who the fuck let the fucking Nerd out of it’s cage?”

Simon had crossed the road over to campus proper, only for a guy passing with a friend by to shout that at him. He looked over, embarrassed a bit for even existing, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the look of sheer revulsion in the young man’s eyes, looking at him. It was like he’d never seen anything more disgusting in his life, like Simon was a smear of dog shit across the man’s carpet. He tried to stammer a reply, but he’d developed a severe stutter after discovering what a nerd he was, and so he’d never really been able to get words out of his mouth.

“Dude, I know it’s gross, but if you say shit like that to it, you’ll only encourage it. You know how nerds get,” the guy’s friend said, and tugged him along.

The guy followed reluctantly, “If we don’t say anything, then the fucking things will start thinking they’re allowed here.”

Simon just stared after them. He’d thought he’d built up a resistance to it–to the stares, the disgust, the avoidance, the pity–but something about that cut right through him. But rather than feeling hurt, what he found instead, was that…it had turned him on, somehow. Unable to help himself, he groped the front of his filthy cargo shorts, feeling a wad of precum squeeze from the head of his filthy cock, forming a bit of a wet spot around the fly, and then yanked his hand away. Class–he needed to get to class. He had to stop worrying about what people thought of him–just because he was a perverted, disgusting nerd, didn’t mean he couldn’t go to class…as long as he controlled himself.

Where that last thought had come from, he wasn’t certain, but it was…right, somehow. Everyone knew nerds had no real self-control. Simon kept walking, trying to avoid people as he headed for class, but along the way, he let off a massive, stinking belch–it tasted so filthy he just stood on the sidewalk a moment, groping himself helplessly, and every cruel comment from the people passing by only made him hornier. He had to stop. If he kept this up, and campus security caught wind of him, he’d really be in trouble. He spied a bench along the path, and thought that if he could just sit for a bit and collect himself, he might be alright. After a few more heaving steps, he got there and plopped down on the bench, as a massive fart escaped his ass…and a little something more than that, which he could feel, warm, in the back of his crusty, cum coated briefs.

He’d just farted so hard, he’d shit a bit in the back of the pants. Fuck, he’s such a fucking nerd–such a disgusting, ugly, fat, perverted, filthy nerd! He licked his bearded lips and started clawing at the front of his shorts, hauling up his heavy gut so he could haul his cock out of the front of his shorts and start jacking off in public, sitting in the stench of his own shit, staring down the people passing by, wanting them to insult him, wanting them to be utterly disgusted by him. After all, he couldn’t really help himself–he was just a fucking nerd. This is just what nerds do, right? He ground his fat ass against the bench, feeling the shit smearing between his cheeks, the first load exploding from his cock, arching up onto the front of his t-shirt. A guy passing by saw him–smelled him, and stumbled past, retching. Simon just laughed, and started jacking off again, but didn’t manage to finish before the campus security guards found him. The two hulking guards ran up, wearing gas masks and their standard rubber containment gear, and the first to arrive used his cattle prod right on Simon’s junk, making the nerd scream and writhe on the bench.

“Fucking nerds–you just can’t fucking help yourselves. An infraction this bad–you’re getting house arrest for two months, you fat fuck.”

The men dragged Simon’s fat ass back to the frat house–he was laughing and belching the whole way. He couldn’t believe he’d lost control like that, but fuck, it had just felt so fucking good! On the porch, the guards secured a shock collar around Simon’s neck and armed it–if he stepped more than ten feet out of the range of the house, he’d receive a debilitating shock and security would be alerted to his violation. Then they opened the door and shoved him inside, still laughing.

“Fuck Si, is that you?”

He looked up and saw a couple of his fellow nerds on the couch, staring at the screen, playing a video game together. “Got all the way to campus, you should’ve seen them. Shit myself on a fucking bench!” he laughed again, and started jacking off again, “Fuck, why the fuck did that feel so fucking good?”

“You shit yourself in fucking public! I bet you fucking jacked off after that,”

“Oh fuck man, I fucking did!”

Fuck man, you’re such a fucking nerd!”

“I know, right?”

“Fuck, I could shit myself right now, man,” one of the nerds said, and bore down, letting off a vile fart. Si crawled over, smelling the fumes as he jacked his own cock. He was stuck in here with these fucks for two months, but it was worth it, right? Some part of him told him this was wrong–the same part of him which tried to get him to leave the house that night, until the collar went off. It summoned security, who beat his fat ass on the lawn and threw him back in the house. There was no denying it–as far as the world was concerned he was just a fucking nasty nerd, and he’d never be anything else–best to just accept it.

How much of what you write about have you done or had done to you? Is any of the content of your stories based on your own experiences? I don’t mean the magical transformation, of course. :)

Very little, in fact. This isn’t to say that in real life I’m particularly vanilla, just that I don’t have that much sex in general–most of my erotic energy is put into writing this stuff, which is fine by me. That’s not to say I’m uninterested in experiencing some of the stuff involved here, and I’ve certainly done some kinky/nasty stuff on my own, but anything on the more BDSM side of thing which would require another party present (fisting, bondage, SM play, etc.) I haven’t done. Also, I have smoked anything in my entire life! I’m such a bore, right?

Did you just say you had a crush on Wario? I thought I was the only one! Especially how he’s depicted in the Smash Bros games, as a beefy, brutish, obese biker with extreme flatulence. I love imagining him fucking some of the other characters, like Solid Snake, Ganondorf, and Captain Falcon, and turning them into obese gassy slobs like him.

I have a huge crush on Wario! And yes, I’ve always been a fan of his depicition in SSB for sure. I…may have, when I was younger, masturbated quite a few times to some of those trophies. Usually Bowser and Wario, though Donkey Kong and Ganondorf got a bit of attention as well.

Why can’t I find men like in your stories who find a disgusting pig like me attractive?

Because my men, and the world’s they inhabit, are fictional, because this world has already done it’s best to eliminate any reality which resembles the ones I write.

Because the world that’s left is terrible, and trains its men to be terrible.

Because people are largely cruel, but unwilling to admit it, and deal their damage indirectly instead.

Because of shame, and “standards”, and other aspects of social reality we’d all be better off without.

Because you’re true to yourself, and that scares most people out of their wits.

Why do you live dirty slobs so much? don’t get me wrong the storys are grate and I lvoe to jac of to htem there is just somight in ternig a clean preppy guy imnto what he hated wor would have hated. and do you feel like oyur go more extrime in you ftisches over time im 28 and start to jack of to harder and hard stuff?

Well first. let me proof this a bit–not trying to be rude, but I just want to make sure I understood everything:

Why do you love dirty slobs so much? Don’t get me wrong, the stories are great and I love to jack off to them. There is just something in turning a clean, preppy guy into what he hated or would have hated. Also, do you feel like your tastes become more extreme in you fetishes over time? I’m 28 and am starting to jack off to harder and hard stuff. 

So first, why do I like slobs? I get that question a lot, or a variant on it, and I never quite know how to answer it. A lot of my attraction to these topics has to do with deeper frustrations I have with society, as well as issues I’ve carried around about coming to terms with my own body over the years. All that to say, it’s complicated, and I don’t really have a good answer for you. Mostly, I hate the drive towards a superficial cleanliness and order which is constantly enforced in the world around us, and the barriers that places between individuals and their own bodies. I spend a large chunk of my live afraid of this meat-thing I inhabit–it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve felt comfortable with my body *as a thing*, and not by trying to change it, make it pretty/attractive, or sanitize it. There’s a freedom which is very satisfying, when you can let go of those concerns and surrender to those more basic, bodily needs and functions–which is how I would define a “slob” in broad, general terms. That said, it’s complicated, and I don’t have an easy answer for that.

As for the second question there, I’m only 28 myself. I wouldn’t say that I tastes have really become that more extreme over the years, only because I started out with pretty extreme tastes. What I think happens, is that people, over time, allow themselves to admit that they desire more taboo fetishes and begin to pursue them, though I think the desire was always there, but only being denied.