Category: Uncategorized

so wow, such artistic integrity

such troll, so BS

Wanting to be paid for one’s work isn’t sacrificing one’s artistic integrity, but the implication here is that the purist artist is also necessarily the poorest–that somehow, an artist accepting money for their art is a violation of “”“”“integrity”“”“”, when in fact, it looks like you just don’t want to contribute, and as a way to justify that, you’re trying to ridicule me for asking for donations. That’s fine if you don’t want to pay for more content. Hell, if no one contributes, I can happily keep putting out the same amount I’ve been doing here for the foreseeable future, but the fact of the matter is, I’d really like to be putting out more than I currently am, and the only way I can do that is by opening up more time, and the only way I can do that is by cutting back my work schedule, and the only way I can do that is by replacing that revenue stream with something else. 

The fact is, I want to do so much more than two captions a week, and occasionally some longer commissions. I think I can put out some pretty fantastic stories and content that all of you would really like to see. But I can’t do all of that on my own.

This isn’t me sacrificing integrity, this is just my ambition showing, and if you can’t handle that, get the fuck out of my way.

If you want it to take off post about it on furaffinity and promise a furry themed transformation each week. Furfags are by far your best bet if you’re looking for a large group of people who have no qualms with spending serious dosh on fap material.

I’ll be posting a note about it there as well, but I’m not going to be promising one kind of content over another. I mean, I’m certainly going to be writing some furry stories in the future, but I’m not going to start limiting myself to any particular kind of content, even if it pulled in more cash, because I’d rather write what I want to write at any given moment, even if that means I put out less.

Edit: As @outkast1728 pointed out, don’t use the term “furfag”, that’s pretty awful. 

I think I actually enjoy the semi-weekly format than the every day entries. The stories are much more fleshed out and interesting, that being said good luck with the patreon thing, I’m going to be really impressed if it takes off.

Well the goal is not to fill those extra days with crap content–I’d like to be able to produce stories of the same longer caliber for those additional days. I don’t want to sacrifice quality for the sake of quantity. Hell, I could be writing seven really, really crappy captions a week right now, but that wouldn’t make anyone happy, especially me. That said, I’ll be impressed (and thankful) if it takes off too. Still, I’ve managed to pick up very nearly 1000 followers here with a) text based content and b) a comparably skimpy update schedule, so obviously I must be doing something right.

Hello, I’m a huge fan of your all any works. Really amazing and hot stories. I was wondering if you will do more stories with RP chatting? Or more real transformations into animals or inanimate transformations?

I definitely enjoy chat changes, so there will be more of those in the future. I don’t write animal or inanimate TF’s very often, however someone has commissioned some inanimate stuff from me, so I can say there will definitely be more of that in the near future.

Have you explored trying an illustration/story trade or collaboration, if so, do you feel that they are worthwhile on your end?

There are a lot of artists who I respect, but I’d honestly be more interested in commissioning artists to produce images to go along with stories than I would be in a trade. I have, however, done collaborations with other writers off and on, like the story “Curse Cards” from last year. As for them being worthwhile, it all sort of depends on the person I’d be working with. 

As a writer myself, how do you find pictures to illustrate your stories? Do you go anywhere specific?

The majority of my pictures are just found here on tumblr. I’d reblog them from their sources, but sourcing content on tumblr is a) a giant clusterfuck, and b) you can’t reblog pictures into photosets, the only way to create them is my reposting pictures. There are a few blogs I visit in particular, but they tend to change from month to month as my obsessions shift from one fetish to the next.

Alright, so here’s that exciting thing I’ve been wanting to show all of you–I’ve decided to open an account on Patreon! If you don’t know what Patreon is, let me offer an explanation. Patreon is a bit like Kickstarter, except instead of donating once and investing in the hope a project will be made in the future, Patreon allows patrons (i.e., all of you) to pledge donations on a regular basis to creators (i.e. me) as they produce content. This provides artists with a much more consistent revenue stream, especially for those of us who produce work on a regular, while still allowing them to work towards fulfilling larger goals in their work.
So what exactly would I be doing with the money? I have two primary goals. First, I really miss being able to update my tumblr on a more regular basis than simply two days a week, but at the moment, that’s all I can consistently muster given the amount of time I have to write on a weekly basis. If I can start generating a more regular source of income from my writing, then I can start providing more regular content, on three, four or five days of the week. Having more time would also allow me to put out a greater variety of content, like metawriting articles, on a more regular basis. 
My second goal is grander. I enjoy writing these captions, but what I would really prefer is to invest my time and energy into longer novellas and novels. This includes my rewrite of “City of Bears,” it includes long commissions for friends that I currently only have time to chip away at, it includes interactive stories and text based adventure games. However, my ideas are generally thwarted by my lack of time and cash. I would very much like to release a longer novella or a collection of stories digitally through gumroad.com for a small price (under five dollars) every three or four months, and Patreon would help me accomplish that. 
But what’s in it for you, right? Like Kickstarter, Patreon lets me reward people who donate to me. Anyone who pledges a donation of more than one dollar a month will be able to access a massive archive of unfinished and unposted stories which I have accumulated over the last seven years. It’s huge. Like, 230,000 words huge. Three novels (or one long fantasy novel) huge. If you can donate more than that, you can gain access to stories I’ll be publishing exclusively to Patreon, as well as early access to drafts of stories I’m currently writing. For those who are exceptionally generous, you can even receive a monthly commission from me where I write anything you might want. 
I have never objected to providing this content for free, and I still don’t. However, I also firmly believe that we ought to do our best to provide artists with income. Even giving one dollar a month would help me get more content to you faster, and at a higher quality than I have been able to provide on my own for free. If you have any questions about patreon itself, you can check out their FAQ here, and you can find my page here. I’ll be on tumblr all day, so if you have any questions to ask me in particular, ask away.

Commission: Too Big

Cowgirl style, yeah, I’m gonna make her ride it, tell her she only has to take as much as she wants, but she’s gonna want it all, all twelve inches, they always do. And then I get to watch her face, watch the pain as I split her pussy wide open, and then the pleasure once my entire fat cock is in her, she’s gonna–

“Sam, is there something out the window more interesting than chemical solutions?”

Sam snapped out of his fantasy, but didn’t take his hand away from the hard cock in the front of his jeans, and rolled his eyes at his science teacher, Mr. Mulford. Who fucking cares? He was getting laid tonight–that’s all he wanted to think about. “Sorry dude,” he said, “Guess I just don’t give a fuck.”

The rest of the class laughed and he smirked. His pudgy, short teacher’s face got a bit red, but he kept composure. “Well, maybe we can find something to interest you up here. How would you like to test these solutions I’ve made for the class?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Well, I can understand that you might be a bit nervous, but I can assure you everything I’ve been mixing is perfectly harmless.”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Sam said. Mr. Mulford shrugged, the class looked at Sam, wondering what he might do. Socially cornered, he got up from his desk his foot long cock still rock hard in his jeans, but he didn’t care. His huge cock was myth at the school, and he liked it that way–it kept the girls coming in droves. He made sure to stretch at the front of the room, showing it off for the whole class, before joining his teacher by his table, where he had a number of colorful solutions sitting in various beakers. Mr. Mulford had him touch a few (slick and slimy, one colored his finger blue), smell another (fake banana, but Sam said it smelled like ass), and then taste one last one. It coated his tongue, and tasted overwhelmingly of mint, and then Mr. Mulford excused him back to his seat.

Sam tried to get the taste out of his mouth, but it was cloying, and he was starting to feel a bit strange. Still, science was his last class of the day–he was probably just tired. He tried to get back into his fantasy, but instead just felt dazed and confused. He heard the bell and saw the rest of the class get up and leave–he tried to follow them, but his body was just so heavy all of a sudden. He was flailing weakly when Mr. Mulford came over and sat down next to him.

“You know Sam, I’d like to thank you for staying after class to meet with me. There’s something that we need to discuss, something I’ve…noticed about you.”

Sam had no idea what his teacher was talking about. He hadn’t planned on staying after class, had he? And yet, now that Mr. Mulford had said it, he could almost remember, he could remember, yeah, he’d…he’d agreed to stay after class. He was still trying to figure out what was happening to him, when his middle aged teacher reached into his lap, unbuttoned his jeans, and unzipped his fly. “What…you doing?” he asked, but the words seemed too quiet to really be heard.

Mr/ Mulford simply reached into the front of Sam’s pants and grabbed the top of his student’s underwear, and pulled it down underneath his massive cock and huge sack of balls. It had gone soft, but with a bit of attention from the teacher’s fingers, it quickly grew to full size, jutting up between Sam’s abs and the desk, Sam giving off a soft groan.

“Goodness, it really is disgusting,” Mr. Mulford said.

“Disgusting?” Sam slurred, “What’s disgusting…?”

“Why, this huge, nasty sewer pipe of a cock. I mean, I’d heard rumors around school, but I see why you’ve been trying to hide it for so long, if people knew you were a freak, why, you’d be an outcast. People would hate you–laugh at you in the halls.”

“But…but big is good…”

His teacher laughed, “Big is good, but this is too big. No wonder you’re a virgin, you couldn’t even fit this in someone.”

He wasn’t a virgin, was he? But he could almost remember…or not remember…what was wrong with his head? Mr. Mulford pressed his advantage, berating Sam’s huge cock and heavy sack, laughing at him, shaming him, humiliating him over and over until Sam was in literal tears. He was a freak. He’d always been a freak, terrified of his own massive cock. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he have just been normal? Even a tiny button cock would have been better than this massive dick. Or a cock like Mr. Mulford’s. Mr Mulford showed him his own cock, seven inches, big and thick but not too big like his. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this. He couldn’t let anyone know he was a freak! The lengths he’d gone to to make sure no one knew–changing late during sports, or skipping the showers entirely. Wearing baggy pants all the time. Refusing to date any girl, even when they were interested. He couldn’t have sex with anyone, but now Mr. Mulford knew his secret.

“You…you won’t tell anyone will you? You can’t–I’d be…everyone would hate me…” he begged on his hands and knees.

Mr. Mulford massaged his cock, smiling down at his student. “Why, of course I won’t tell anyone–so long as you do everything I say. I mean, keeping a secret this big–you’re going to have to do me some favors. In fact, I think you’re going to come over to my house after school every day after school for a special study session, isn’t that right?”

“But–But I have practice–”

“You fucking idiot–Don’t you realize what a risk sports been for you? What if someone sees your freakish cock in the locker room? I think you’re going to have to quit. It’s for the best.”

Quit? But he was the star receiver. Still, the thought of his friends seeing him naked–what would they say? They’d laugh, they’d tell the whole school! Mr. Mulford was right, he had to quit, he had to.

“Now, how about you do me a favor today Sam–how about you suck my perfect cock off?”

“But I’m not gay…”

“Do you want me to tell everyone or not, freak?”

Sam gulped, but he had no choice. He took his teacher’s cock into his mouth and let him fuck his throat for a few minutes, until he shot a load and forced Sam to swallow his seed, and finally sent him on his way with an address in hand. His first study session was tomorrow, and Sam had a feeling that sucking dick wasn’t the only thing his faggot teacher would require to keep his secret safe.

***

No one knew what had happened to Sam. One day, he was his normal, outgoing, cocky self, his huge cock displayed prominently in tight jeans, and the next–it was like a whole new person had taken his place. His clothes were loose, he was suspicious of his friends. He no longer returned girl’s calls, and broke up with his girlfriend. He quit the football team in the middle of the season. His parents were concerned–he would be gone most every afternoon and never wanted to tell them where he’d been, saying only that he’d been studying at a friends house. Of course, after a few weeks of strange behavior, he had no friends–none that he could trust, anyway. He could only trust Master Mulford. Master was the only person who understood him, who could love and appreciate him even though he was a freak of nature. And even though he didn’t always like what Master did to him, even though he knew it was wrong, his freakish cock…it wouldn’t stop getting hard, thinking about his afternoon sessions, thinking about the things Master might do to him each afternoon, as he sat in science, daydreaming.

Sure, Master was old and ugly, short and pudgy, but he had the perfect cock. Sam couldn’t help himself now that he knew what his teacher had in his pants–truly it was a cock worthy of worship, unlike his own nasty, massive member. He wasn’t gay, but even now, thinking about it, his mouth was watering. He’d been a good freak though, he’d gone over the weekend and done exactly what his Master had asked him to do. His nipples were still tender, the head of his cock ached, but he had to obey. He had to, or everyone would know his secret. In fact, he suspected that they already did. Everyone whispered as he walked past them. They were all trying to figure out what was wrong with him. How could he tell them? How could he admit that he had a monstrous cock? It was better that people hated him and ignored him. At least he had master. Master wouldn’t tell anyone as long as Sam did everything he said. His secret was safe with him.

Another terrible day at school was over, and Sam walked the now familiar path to his teacher’s house, knowing that Master would arrive first in his car. It took half an hour to walk there, and he wondered what he might have planned. It was difficult to guess–it seemed like every day was some entirely new form of suffering, but the pain always gave way to pleasure, just like Master promised, and Sam would always beg for more, plead with him. He was such a freak. How could he have not noticed before? How could he have ever thought he was normal?

He knocked on the door, and master let him inside, telling him to go down into the basement, strip, and have his drink. Sam nodded. Master’s basement was a fully equipped sex dungeon, and at the foot of the stairs Sam removed his clothes, careful not to hurt his nipples and cock which he had gotten pierced Saturday on Master’s orders. The rings were huge–if he wore a tight shirt, anyone would be able to see them. The same with the PA he’d put in the head of his cock–it served to make his dick even more obscene. He hated it, but Master told him he’d learn to accept the freakishness of it eventually. Master had told him he planned on making Sam’s cock into the freak of nature it is, pierced all over, tattooed. The PA was just the first step–the rest would come later. Naked, he walked to the table and drank down the minty solution he’d first tried in the lab. The haze descended on him faster now–by the time Master joined him downstairs, clad in skimpy leather gear that showed off his chubby, bearish body, it was already difficult to think clearly.

Master’s eyes lit up at the sight of the piercings. “Perfect, just what I wanted,” he said, and tugged gingerly on both nipple rings. “I bet you groaned and got hard when you got them. And that nasty pipe–the piercing artist laughed at you, didn’t he? He was so disgusted at the sight of your cock.”

In fact, the piercings had simply been painful, and the man had been shocked at the size of his dick, but not disgusted. However, at master’s prompting, he happily forgot what had happened and remembered a new version, how he’d moaned at the sensation of the needle in his flesh, how the man had almost refused to pierce his dick; Sam had begged him–after all, if he hadn’t gotten the piercing, Master would have posted those pictures of him naked to the web for everyone to see.

“Now, I have something new for you today. Get on your knees. I want to introduce you to the humbler.”

Sam did as ordered, and Master brought out a curved metal device that looked sort of like shackles. Indeed, the two ends locked around both ankles, but the center had a hole through the shaft–where Master Mulford pulled his balls through and closed the ring tight, so that if he were to stand up, he would rip his sack apart. Just kneeling was uncomfortable, and he tried to adjust his stance to tug on his balls the least. Master cuffed Sam’s hands behind his back, and then without warning, shoved Sam forward. Unable to catch himself, his landed on the hard floor face first, trying to keep his knees bent as much as possible, his balls exposed beneath the humbler, and his master began slapping them with his hands.

“Yeah, look at this nasty sack of filthy cum–it’s fucking obscene. You know what I think we’re gonna do Sam? I think we’re gonna start stretching this sack of yours down, weigh it down all the time, until these fat balls swing between your knees, you fucking disgusting freak.” He got a paddle and started smaking Sam’s sack harder, until the student started crying out, his eyes tearing up from the gut churning pain. “Oh quit whining, you fucking love this, you pain freak. For whatever fucked up reason, this feels good, doesn’t it? You’re fucking enjoying this–I can see that filthy cock of yours getting hard. You’re fucking disgusting.”

It did feel good. It always hurt at first, but Master was right, he did like it. He liked it a lot. He started flexing his legs, pulling his sack tauter, wondering what it would be like to have his sack swinging between his knees. Freak. He would be such a freak. He is a freak, a total pain freak. His balls were swollen from the abuse, and Master Mulford finally hung up the paddle, massaging his perfectly sized cock with one gloved hand. “Gonna fuck that hole now boy, you like getting fucked, don’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

“That sewer pipe of yours is gonna leak that filthy cum like a faucet as soon as my dick rips open your hole.”

“Yes sir.”

“You want me to use lube?”

“No sir.”

“Why not boy.”

“Because I like pain sir. I’m a pain freak sir. I want you to make it hurt, the more it hurts…the more I love it.”

The old man started shoving his cock into Sam’s hole, listening to him gasp with pain and pleasure. Mulford loved Mondays, he loved how Sam’s ass started to recover and tighten up again, he went in as deep and as quick as he could, making it hurt. “You know, this hole loves being fucked.”

“Yes sir, it does.”

“I bet this hole would love getting fisted. What do you think, slave? Would you like to feel my fat fist burrowing into your hole?”

“Would…would it hurt?”

“Oh yeah slave, it would hurt a lot. It would hurt way more than me fucking you.”

Sam was silent for a moment, and then croaked a quiet, “Yes…Yes, if it would hurt, fucking hurt me sir.”

Master fucked him, but didn’t shoot yet. He pulled out and went back to paddling, smacking not only Sam’s sack, but his ass as well, making him count out the blows. Only after fifty smacks, did he let Sam beg him to finish fucking him. Mulford was only too happy to oblige, and only after seeding his pain slave’s hole did he help him back up onto his knees, and undo his cuffs and his humbler.

“That’s enough for today slave. I’ll see you tomorrow for another session.”

“Yes sir,” Sam said, and wished his heart wasn’t secretly looking forward to whatever pain his Master would choose to inflict on him the next day, and the next, and the next.