Category: Uncategorized

So what’s the news I mentioned last night?

The husband and I will be moving to Amsterdam at the end of August for at least a year (and perhaps longer)!

Earlier this year, my husband got accepted to the University of Amsterdam to pursue a master’s degree, but the only catch is that they provided him with no financial aid. Neither of us was interested in accruing more debt, but we’d thought we’d defer for a year, see how much we could raise and scrape together, and go from there. He has quite a few connections and good friends who live in Amsterdam and around the Netherlands, since he lived and worked there for quite a while in the 90′s, so we had high hopes, but didn’t think we’d have much luck.

Then again, it’s funny how tragedy and opportunity tend to hold hands tight.

We found out two weeks ago that a very dear friend of his, the same one we went to go visit earlier this winter for his 80th birthday, has just been diagnosed with leukemia, with about a year to live. Him and his wife don’t have much family, but my husband has always been close to them both, and they’ve happily accepted me into their family as well. Both of us feel that we need to be there for them both in this last year, doing whatever we can for them–driving to appointments, shopping, emotional support and labor, cooking and cleaning, etc. Thankfully we can travel on his student visa to help them both through this difficult time, while allowing him to attend school, with some financial assistance they’re providing, and whatever we can raise ourselves. 

So what does this mean to you, readers?

1. Travelling with him on his student visa, I’m not going to be able to work in any sort of conventional fashion, so for the next year at least, contributions from all of you through Patreon will be my main source of income. So, if you’ve thought about contributing, but haven’t yet–now is definitely the time! If you’d like more info, or would like to contribute you can find out more here. 

2. Speaking of Patreon, I’ve been feeling like, with this new shift in my life, it would be a good time to reconsider the goals I had in mind when I first got going, and revise them. That said, rewards will not be changing! Everyone getting a monthly commission is still going to get those commissions. I’ll still be posting four times a week, at least for the time being–it might be that, as we approach the August departure date, I have to temporarily scale back my posting rate or take a week or two off, but I’m hoping to avoid that if at all possible. Looking forward to the fall, it’s possible that, with more time available, I’ll be able to scale up rewards in some fashion as well, but that’s more “wait and see”.

3. Lastly, to help generate a bit of extra income right now, I will be open for general commissions starting at some point in early June! We have a lot of expenses this summer to try and manage, and so every little bit helps. I’m still hammering out the details on pricing and what kinds of stories I’ll be accepting, but expect more information within the week, if you’re interested in helping me out in this way.

If you have any questions about any of this, I’ll answer what I can, as usual, over on my secondary blog. As always, thanks for reading, and for your support! I’m super excited for this opportunity, and I hope the next year will have great things in store.

Odd Schedule This Week

I had a story all lined up for the next three days, but I realized that I’d rather post it all at once instead of in sections, so I’m going to post it all at once on Thursday. Hence, no post today, which I should have alerted you all to earlier. But! There will be other news tomorrow! Big news! Slightly scary but ultimately good news! Stay tuned!

Life Coach (Part 5)

The neighbors were out in their backyard again, fucking. Shane only knew a little bit about them, but they seemed nice enough. The wife was beautiful (not that Shane had any interest in women, of course, but he could still appreciate the form, he supposed) but it was the husband who attracted his focus, with his hot dad bod and nine inch cock. They fucked like rabbits, and all summer long they were out fucking by the pool, giving Shane a chance to peep between the fence boards a few minutes at the time, when he was working on master’s garden. Of course he’d never do anything–they were so happy together, and good people. Not like Shane. Stupid, worthless Shane, he couldn’t even be a good slave half the time. He had no idea why his master even kept him around half the time. Still, watching that huge cock, his own puny member was trying as hard as it could to expand in the tight cage master kept him in. He hadn’t had an orgasm in years at this point, and expected that he’d never have one ever again.

“Hey! Dumb cunt! Where the fuck are you?”

Master was calling. He went the long way out of the bushes, making sure his naked body was covered in enough dirt and dust to look like he’d been working. When he worked on the neighbor’s yards, Master allowed him to wear a ragged pair of cutoffs, but in his own yard and house Shane was always naked aside from his cage and collar. “Yes sir, sorry sir. Was weeding by the fence,” Shane muttered, sweat running down his bald head and into his mutton chops, smoking one of the cheap cigars Master allowed him. Even standing, he had to crane his neck to look at his master, who towered over him by nearly two feet. “How can I serve you sir?”

“Barry just finished his session, but he needs some practice. Meet him in the dungeon, would you?”

Barry was one of several clients who were seeing his master to help with anger issues, usually men going through divorces or who had been arrested for assault. Somehow, they always became extreme sadists–taking their rage out on consenting slaves–helping them be much nicer to real people. Shane wasn’t worthy of being a person, however. He hurried down the steps into the basement, and found that this had been a breakthrough session for Barry. He’d been a larger man in his late forties when he’d first started seeing Master Evan, but now he was huge, a full bent pipe clutched in his bearded jaw, wearing a pristine leather uniform. The excitement of his brutal punishment had Shane’s cock leaking through his cage even more than seeing his neighbor’s cock, and he threw himself at Barry’s feet, begging to be punished.

It began with kicking and stomping, and then Barry hauled Shane up from the floor, suspended him in the air, and began whipping him, making sure to add his own welts to Shane’s back on top of his master’s other anger management clients. He couldn’t remember the last time his back had been without at least one wound, and he was secretly thankful his master never allowed him to wear a shirt. He…secretly liked the fact that everyone in the neighborhood could see what kind of treatment he deserved, and he also thought that wearing anything against these welts would be horrifically painful. After he had been whipped to Barry’s satisfaction, he gave Shane a deep fisting before finally slamming his own cock in deep, exploding only a few seconds after his entrance. After all, for Barry, it was the pain that got him off more than anything else. After he came, a look of bliss came over his face–he undressed and hung up the uniform, and left, happy to no longer the angry man he had been anywhere outside this dungeon, where Shane was more than happy to take anything Barry–or anyone else–thought he deserved.

Master came down after Barry left, and spent a few minutes tending to Shane’s wounds, making sure his back, in particular, didn’t get infected. There was little love in these moments, however–it was clear that his master wasn’t tending to him out of any sort of love or care, but merely as one would maintain a tool, to ensure it had a long life of usage. Shane had lost his cigar at some point in the session–he found the half-smoked end and relit it–Master would only provide him a new cigar after he ate the last butt in front of him.

Shane cooked dinner for his master, and then had his own small portion. After that, it was time for his evening rounds through the neighborhood. His master had been busy over the last few months, ever since the two of them had moved in here. So many good people around them had been living boring, tedious lives–and there were quite a few terrible people who hadn’t deserved the lives they had. That thought…tugged at something in Shane, and he felt even worse than he usually did, but pushed the concern away–he had work to do and men to serve. Phillip needed to be fed–he’d recently become too large to get out of bed, so master had been kind enough to provide him with an automated feeding system. Still, it had to be filled twice a day, but the mush fed continuously to him ensured the fat ass would keep growing until Master Evan decided he could stop. After that, it would be time for a session with Nick and Roy–they had been a nice gay couple a block over, but Master had found them to be far too boring. Now, the two of them were a pair of muscle bound, smoked out daddy bears, and Master was enjoying seeing how freakish the two of them could become. Still, since they were both tops, they needed a bottom regularly to keep them happy, and Shane was usually the one who had to take care of them both. Recently, however, they’d both developed a rather disgusting fondness for piss, and the last few times, Shane had to waddle back home, his already rotund gut distended with several loads of piss and cum. Still, a slave’s work was never done, right? He pulled on his cutoffs, said goodbye to his master, and set off for the evening, glad that even if he was a fucking loser, he could serve his master, and the neighborhood, to the best of his abilities. That was something, at least.

Life Coach (Part 4)

“Please, I know…I know I’m fucked up in my head, to come up with shit like that, but you have to help me, you’re the only one who can help me, I see that now, I get it!” Shane said, on his knees in front of Evan, who was looming over him, the room full of hazy with the smoke from both of their cigars. Evan had been waiting for this. He’d known it was coming, but it hard to anticipate when, finally, someone would truly understand what they’d become.

A few months had passed, since his first session with Evan, but it already felt lifetimes away. It didn’t…it didn’t really matter anyway, since it had never been real anyway, Shane reminded himself. Sure, it…felt real to him, but that’s what made his own mind so screwed up–he couldn’t tell what was real anymore. He’d kept coming over here, demanding that Evan change him back, that he give him his old life back–back when he was stud, when his wife could look at him with laughing, when he didn’t feel compelled to suck the cocks of all the men who fucked her, no matter what it cost–but he saw the truth now, he hadn’t been willing to believe Evan, when he’d first tried to tell him, he’d been so skeptical, but what other explanation was there?

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses, Shane, it’s good to hear. Now get up and have a seat over here, let’s talk about your breakthrough. So, you finally realized that those old memories of yours, those ones where you’re some young, muscular hotshot asshole lawyer, those were all false memories, right?”

Shane nodded, a bit hesitant now that he heard it said out loud, but…but there couldn’t be any other explanation, right?

“It’s good of you to realize that, but why do you think you created those memories, Shane?”

“I…I don’t know. They’re just…there. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Well, I happen to have a theory, you know. I think, Shane, that you created those memories so you could put the blame for your shitty life on everyone around you, and deflect that blame from yourself. I mean, if I was the one who changed you, then you aren’t responsible for you’re loveless marriage. You aren’t responsible for chasing all the cock you can find. You aren’t responsible for the fact that you can’t stop smoking those cigars you hate so much. You aren’t responsible for the fact that you can’t win a single court case, not without blowing the judge, the other lawyers, and sometimes the jury. That you’re a failure in every way. It’s hard for anyone to realize their a waste of space, a worthless person, but that’s what you are, don’t you see?”

Fuck, why was he so hard? No, not just hard–listening to Evan catalogue all his failings as a man, as a person–he had his cock out and was jacking off, just thinking about how…how much of a failure he was, and realizing that, he started sobbing. “Please, it’s…it’s too much! I’m…I’m almost broke, I can’t find any new clients. I don’t know what I was thinking, I–someone like me can’t do this!” He tried to keep speaking, but he broke down, still stroking his cock, and Evan got up and crossed over to where he was sitting, stroking his balding hand, running it through his bushy mutton chops.

“I know Shane, but this is what I do, you see. You were never meant to have a life like this, you realize that, right? A fuckup like you can’t be trusted with anything important.”

I-I don’t think anyone can help someone as fucked up as me though,” Shane said.

Evan chuckled, “Always the skeptic, to the end,” he said, “At least let me try.”

“Why…why would you ever want to help someone like me? Someone as worthless as I am?”

“Oh Shane, because this is what I do! I help people. Now come on–would you like to suck my cock? You always feel better after a load of cum, and you always get cranky when you haven’t gotten enough.”

Shane nodded. “Would…you fuck me sir? I’d…like that.”

“If you insist.”

Shane got down on his hands and knees, and Evan slid into him. It was so much easier, now that he’d finally accepted the truth. He’d fought for so long, but what other possibility was there, really? He was just a failure, there was no way around it, but that brought up another question–now what? He couldn’t keep going at this, he wasn’t meant for this for a life like this, but he wasn’t sure there was any life someone as worthless and stupid as him could ever possibly manage. He pushed the thought away, and focused on smoking his cigar, on how good his hole felt, how deep Evan’s huge cock could go, his own cock close to blowing, but he held back, not wanting to make a mess–he always felt so terrible whenever he made a mess, and he’d been trying very hard lately to only cum when someone had given him permission to do so. He wasn’t very good at it, and not many people would give him permission, but all the same, it was common courtesy. Evan finished inside him and stepped back–he felt empty, but better than earlier. Freer, somehow. He pulled his pants back up.

“Now what do I do,” he asked, “I can’t go back there, I can’t face that anymore.”

“Did you forget already? Evan said, “I’m a life coach, Shane. Just leave it all to me. We can find something for you to do that you can be happy with, I think. All you have to do is trust me.”

Shane tried to object, but Evan’s hands were already on his skull, massaging the thoughts from his mind, the world fading from view again. Everything was being pulled from him, and he let it go. It wasn’t for him to worry about, after all. He would only make things worse if he tried to interfere. Instead he let himself drift off into a void, hopeful that when he woke, his only hope was that his life would be something more suited to a loser like him.

Life Coach (Part 3)

What in the world was he doing? He wasn’t some…some fucking faggot! He tried as hard as he could to haul himself off his neighbor’s cock, but the man just grabbed him by his ears and drove deep, feeling Shane choke and gag on his cock.

“Now now, both of us know how much you like this Shane. The more you fight, the harder it will be for you, I promise.”

He tried to snarl a “fuck you,” but it just came out as unintelligible garble. Evan got the gist of it, however, and so he pushed his fingers to Shane’s temples, and the crippling pain wracked it’s way through him again. This time, either he was at least expecting it or it simply wasn’t as severe, because when Evan pulled his fingers away he was still conscious–and no longer gagging. In fact, he found himself so excited to have a cock in his mouth, that his tiny cock immediately let loose a meek pulse of cum into his pants, and he redoubled his efforts to please Evan, just happy to have a cock to serve.

In his mind, part of him was rebelling–he didn’t want to be a cocksucker! But…he couldn’t quite deny that he was a cocksucker, because he’d certainly sucked lots of them, and been fucked plenty of times as well. He’d often offer his clients, for a little extra money under the table, to help take some of the stress off their divorce, by giving them some assistance, and quite a few of them took him up on the offer. He may have also sucked off a few judges and attorneys, in order to get better verdicts for his clients, but that was all part of the job, right? On weekends, while Sandra was taking her numerous lovers, Shane was usually off somewhere, sucking cock through gloryholes or hooking up with random guys online, though that was harder. When someone saw his old, wrinkled, hairy face, not many people wanted to have sex with him–he had much more luck when he stayed anonymous, and with Evan. He loved slipping over here and sucking off his neighbor–he was the best fuck he had right now.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Evan said, and Shane immediately pulled away from his cock, stuck his cigar back in his mouth, and got ready for a fuck. Evan got down behind him, lined up his cock and slipped it in his hole, listening to his slutty neighbor heave a great sigh, “I told you not to fight me on this.”

Shane gasped at the tremendous surge of pleasure, his back arching, “Oh…Oh fuck, why does…does that feel so good?”

“Because you’re a fucking slut now,” Evan said.

“Why…How are you doing this to me? This isn’t fucking possible.”

“Well, you never did let me explain, and I don’t feel like going into it now. Still, I’d be careful disbelieving–after all, if I can’t change you, then that means you must have always been like this, right? Have you always been a desperate, small cocked slut, Shane?”

No–No, he hadn’t…but he…he couldn’t quite remember who he’d been before either, and it was too fucking hard to concentrate with that huge cock in his ass. So much easier just…just focusing on that, on bucking back, feeling his cock dribbling cum on the carpet. He’d…he’d have to lick it up later of course, he didn’t want to make a mess–and he loved cum. Couldn’t let it go to waste, no way, that would be terrible. No! He had to focus, focus on what really mattered! Evan had…had done something to him. He could remember that. He’d made him like this, given him this worthless cock, this…fuck, that felt so good, what he was doing back there! Unable to hold back, through thick clouds of dingy smoke he felt a huge orgasm rip through his entire body, feeling his flabby gut shiver and shake as a miniscule amount of cum flew out of him, and it wasn’t too much longer after that, when Evan filled his hole with a much larger amount of cum, and slipped out of him.

He fought it. He fought, but it was only polite after all. It’s…what a slut like him should do. Still on his hands and knees he backed up and started licking up his own, cum, feeling his ass leaking down the inside of his thigh. “Please…I’m sorry,” he said, tongue still pressed to the carpet, “”I get it! Just…just change me back, please.”

“Oh goodness, I don’t change people back, Shane. Goodness, I don’t change people at all! I’m just a con artist, remember? Why, I don’t understand where you’re getting this delusion of yours–you yourself said you had much too strong of a will to ever be hypnotized, right? So that means, that any power I have over you must be because you want to be weak. Because you like letting people dominate you. But if it makes you feel better, even if I could change you back? I wouldn’t. Because I love having a fat slut like you next door–if you were anyone else, then you wouldn’t get my cum, would you? Now clean the rest of that up and get the fuck out of my house, pig.”

Evan walked off, leaving Shane to finish his work, and then he got back up, and left, lighting a fresh cigar out on the doorstep, trying not to cry. What in the world had happened to his life, suddenly? He walked back over to his house, in time to see Sandra, in the doorway, waving goodbye to Devin as he left, looking fresh faced and happy. He could see the bulge of the young man’s huge cock, and…and fuck, he wanted it. As they passed, he turned to him and said, “I’ll pay…two hundred dollars. Let me suck it, please.”

The man laughed, and kept walking.

“Five hundred, please.”

“Faggot, ask me to suck my cock again, and I’ll pummel your face to the floor.”

“A thousand.”

That, apparently, was enough. However, he had to pay Devin upfront, before he could get a taste of the young man’s cock, and he hated himself for it, but he needed it. he needed it, and he had a feeling he’d be doing anything he could to get it.

A short variation on a theme posted by @vikingzombieboyfriend a few days ago, which you can find here.

“Think he’s dead?”

“Well he sure don’t look like he’s in very good shape.”

“Is he moving?”

The two men backed up as the prone, unconscious young man they’d stumbled upon as they’d been riding down the trail groaned and came around. They stepped back further, when he flung about, screaming–”Get off me! Fucking get away from me!”

They waited a moment for him to get his bearings and calm down, the young man sitting up, huffing, looking around at the two men who’d found him suspiciously–then down at himself, and found himself naked. “You alright? We just rode up on you a few minutes ago, passed out in the middle of the trail, buck naked.”

“I…Oh god, I…” the young man said, looking down at his hands, “Was it…Where am I?”

“About two days away from any road. Were you hiking with anyone else?” one man asked.

“He probably just ate some damn shrooms and went out of his mind, man.”

“God, I hope so..” the young man said, still looking at his hands.

“You don’t remember what happened?”

The young man shook his head side to side in a way neither cowboy found very convincing. He recalled something, but didn’t want to say.

“Look, we’re on our way out, back to our truck. If you need some help getting back to the road, you can tag along.”

The young man agreed, and after borrowing some spare clothes, they helped up up onto the horse behind one of them, and they kept riding on. Their planned campsite was a few miles further down the trail, and the he was only too happy to get there–the young man had spent the whole hour long ride sniffing at him, and…grinding up against him in a rather strange way. He wasn’t even sure the man had noticed he was doing it. Getting this close to him, he also smelled strongly of loam and rot, and it only grew more intense as they went.

As soon as they got to camp, the young man excused himself off into the woods, allegedly to take care of some business, while one cowboy told the other he had a feeling their new companion was probably a faggot. The rest of the evening, the young man seemed distracted and distant, though his eyes rarely seemed to leave the man he’d ridden with. They all went to bed early, the two cowboys sleeping together, because the one didn’t want to left alone with the strange faggot.

The other woke in the night, to the other man screaming. There, at the mouth of a tent, a bear had him by the legs, and with one yank, hauled his friend from the tent, clawing at the nylon in a desperate attempt to stop it. He crawled out after him, hoping to distract the bear–but it wasn’t a bear at all–some massive creature, and all he could remember was that both under the light of the moon, and in the dying light of the embers, the creature was simply…gray, like it had leeched the color from the world. It had his friend pinned to the ground, impaled on it’s huge cock. The other tent was ripped to pieces, the horses had escaped their knots and fled as well, and he fled too–but even as he ran, he saw the eyes in the forest, the grey eyes, watching him, chasing him, and the world only turned more grey as he ran, and the night never did end.

Yeah, ya weren’t too sure ‘bout it, a month ago, were ya? Rolling up here, that prissy dad of yers telling ya a couple months here with me on mah ranch would be good fer ya. Didn’t think he knew what he was talking about, and sure, ya sulked for a while, bored without yerr video games and books and shit, but we’ve found better ways tah keep ya occupied, haven’t we?

Yeah pig, lean back, take another long drag off that cigar. Ye’re learnin’ real good, real quick. Might as well put that brain power to good use before we ruin the rest of it–can’t have a pig smarter than it’s owner, right? Yeah, you have permission pig, I know hearin’ me call ya that makes ya hard in an instant. Now that ye’re startin’ tah show all that weight proper-like, the name fits a bit better, don’t you think? 

Too bad ya ain’t hairier–I love a hairy pig. Still, once we get a few dozen more tattoos on ya, ya’ll look like a right nasty pig anyway. Tug on those tits a yers, yeah, that’s it. Yeah, everyone can see ya pervin’ out, but ya like that, I bet. Don’t worry non, all the neighbors know ‘bout mah pigs–ya’ll get to know a few of them a bit better before too much longer. Hey, there’s Buck–go on pig, wave to Buck–that’s good. Buck’s wife might think he’s a good Christian shithead, but he’s one dirty minded bull when he comes over here, trust me. 

Fight all you want boy, but there’s no escape. The sooner ya give in, the better it will be. The more ya’ll enjoy it. The hotter we can make ya before that city slicker bro of mine comes back tah pick ya up in a few more months. Oh don’t worry, ya ain’t gonna be goin’ home with him or nothin’–but we gotta make sure he don’t remember ya bein’ human or nothin’. Nah, he’ll stay with us for a few days, plowin’ mah new pig, becomin’ a bit of a bull himself, ‘n then ya’ll really be mine–ya’ll like that, trust me. 

Buck’s still watchin–how about we give him a show, pig? Drop trou’ ‘n bend over–and I want him tah hear ya squeal all the way over there, or ya’ll be sleeping with the pigs tonight–I know ya don’t wanna sleep with them anymore, right? Then me a good pig, and give a good fuckin’ show, ya hear me?

Source: cigarcub33

Inspired by anonymous

The five college friends had been camping at this spot for the last few years, and usually it had been perfectly peaceful. This year, though, this group of older men had rolled in a day after them, set up camp nearby, and it was clear they were all…well…none of the guys really wanted to talk about it, but all of them had seen a few things they didn’t want to talk about with each other. They didn’t care what the guys wanted to do with their spare time–it just seemed like they were always where the group of friends were headed, always having sex…and always wanting the younger men to watch.

After a day they’d had enough, and were planning on leaving early the next day and heading home. Still, they had one more evening at least to enjoy around the fire. One of them went off to the bathrooms, and they noticed he’d been gone for a fairly long time, when someone else crashed through the bushes. It was one of the older men from the other camp…except he was wearing their friend’s clothes. The crotch of his jeans had been ripped open, and he settled into the waiting chair, legs splayed wide, nuts hanging low, his thick dick out for everyone to see. 

“Sorry I took so long guys,” the old man said, “Had a run in with a couple a bears in there, ya know what I mean?” he added a wink and started groping his cock.

The four young men shouted at him, and the older man seemed genuinely confused, as the four shoved him away, off towards where the older men had been camping. He kept trying to protest, genuinely confused–he only stopped trying to approach when one of the more athletic friends punched him in the nose, and sent him packing. All of them were concerned for their friend, and decided to split up into pairs to search for him–one pair heading for the bathrooms, the other pair would look around the campground. 

Neither pair found them, but the two that headed for the bathroom came back to discover two older men sixty-nining by their campfire–they ran them off, both of them confused like the other one had been. They waited for the other pair to return, but they never came. Terrified, they started throwing shit into their car, ready to drive off and leave them behind, but in the morning, the campground staff only found a half packed car, and everything else abandoned. A few other campers complained about a group of older men who had been acting lewdly all night long, but their was no sign of any of them that morning, and no record of such a group ever checking into the campground.

Source: paylu

Yes or no- [Gay guy] taking [straight guy [relation]] home after [event], then forces [relation] to oral fuck, and while [relation] sucks, a “phantom dick” is in his ass while he’s sucking. (Not a dildo; similar to one dick being in to places at the same time.) Yea or ney? Was going to ask on a Wednesday, but I wouldn’t want to forget.

I’m intrigued, but I’ll have to think on it a bit more to see how I might use it.