Category: Uncategorized

I’m curious what would happen if BearmanXL were to somehow find Daddysboy43 for some quality daddy/son bonding. Or the worried father of Farm Boy tracking him and Bubba down only to fall a victim of some other gruesome hat himself. Or a pair of furry hyper masculine cigar smoking rednecks helping other people “man up” by turning them to their image.

Well, I did already do an extended sequence of that chat conversation, but I’ll keep the other ideas in mind for sure, thanks!

Speaking of the hitchhiker story, the “before” picture is a handsome jock who looks Latino, which would make him one of the few POC in your stories. By the end of the story, an old white redneck basically brainwashed and enslaved him, stripping him of his body, mind, and identity and transforming him into just another redneck. I usually enjoy your stories but this just disturbed me since I’m Latino myself. Am I being overly sensitive?

Now that I take a second look, he does appear possibly Latino? When I wrote it, I thought he was just a well tanned muscley white dude. That would make me definitely guilty of whitewashing (sorry, that’s shitty to do) but there was no racial TF intended there. And no, you aren’t being overly sensitive–but on the other hand, my stories are intended to disturb. This just wasn’t the way I’d intended to disturb people, so my apologies.

I was thinking you could expand on this idea about bear possession: /post/59624992891/neds-heart-froze-as-he-watched-the-sun-slowly-set I thought you could show him making his first cub slaves, perhaps a tattoo artist/piercer and his young employee, turning them into a leather daddy and son, with both completely under “his” control, as he cringes inside and slowly loses himself to the bear who is him now. (More in a sec)

(response follows second part)

Are there any specific instances of mind control in media (such as TV shows, movies, or books) that have influenced what you like or your work?

Well….yes, one book that influenced me a lot was “The Lathe of Heaven” by Ursula K. LeGuin, about a man whose dreams literally come true. Other than that, the examples are a bit more general, I suppose.

I loved episodes of shows I used to watch as a kid where characters were forced to turn evil–that always made me really excited for reasons I couldn’t quite explain. The idea that you could force someone to do something they would never do always fascinated, and the endings always disappointed me, when the hero would throw off the control and save the day. 

Stories and book with forced transformations were always of interest too, or where characters had to deal with transformations they couldn’t return from. Now that I think about it, various aspects of the “Animorphs” series that I read voraciously as a kid fill these two categories out quite well (mind control / corruption + transformation? Who would have thought that would fascinate me!) and I’m sure there are others.

Growing older, I’d often take opportunities to craft my own stories which would slip these themes in. I often Dungeon Mastered D&D games for friends, and would always find some excuse to thrall them, or polymorph them into hobgoblins (I did, in fact, jack off many times to the hobgoblin art in the Third Edition Monster Manual) or corrupt their alignment or what have you. Those are a few instances I suppose–I wouldn’t say they “influenced” what I like–that always seemed to run deeper than these things could touch, but those were certainly my outlets as a kid and teenager.

wesleybracken:

“Ha, damn dude how about that party! That was amazing,” Nick said, “Man, these temporary tattoos are the bomb, they really sold the biker costume, eh? Man, I’m beat, gonna go wash this crap off and then go to bed.”

Nick tromped up and you hear him turn on the water, but your heart is racing. You’ve had a hard on all night, watching Nick strut around in those biker leathers, and he damn well deserved the best costume prize he’d gotten at the end of the night, but you hadn’t been entirely honest about the tattoos.

See, they weren’t temporary, like you’d said. And on your computer, you loaded up the program which controlled the ink and started making some changes, switching the pattern from “Rough Biker (Full Body)” to “Gay Pig Bottom (Full Body)” and then checked the box next to “Modify Personality to Match Selection.” After a second, you hit submit. Yeah, Nick was going to have those tattoos for the rest of his life, and be your nasty pig slut to top it off.

You went up into the bathroom, and the Nick gaped at you. “What the fuck dude? I was just trying to wash this odd, and they started changing! It’s a bunch of faggot shit all of the…the sudden…*grunt* Fuck…Kinda horny all of the sudden.”

“I bet you are, you fuckin’ nasty pig.”

You walk over and start tugging on his nipples, and Nick can’t stop grunting and snorting, one of his hands slipping into the water to jack his cock. “Fuck man, fuck–I don’t…”

“Shut the fuck up,” you say, slapping his face with your cock, “Suck it.”
He does, no reservations. You let him enjoy it for a moment, the personality changes settling in and taking root, and then you spray him down with you piss. He loves it, and begs you for more, and you’re happy to give it to him–you order him to follow him into your bedroom and introduce him to his new collar that he’ll be wearing from now on, and you plow his fat ass, telling him how long you’ve been lusting after him, how thrilled you are that this tattoo program could finally make him into the bitch pig you’ve always wanted.

When you’re finished, you kick him out of the bed–pigs don’t get to sleep with their masters after all, and Nick curls up on the floor, and you both fall asleep–or so you think. When you wake up the next morning, the arm you have curled in front of your face and under your pillow is a riot of tattoos. You leap up and see that it isn’t just your arm–it’s your whole body, just like Nick’s. You run out of the room and find him at the computer, still grunting and snorting, jacking his piggy cock. “If you get to have the pig you’ve always wanted, then I get the fuckin’ *snort* nasty skinpig top I want too!”

He hit return, and you quickly realize that he didn’t only match your personality to the tattoos–but your body is changing as well. Muscles redouble on themselves, buning away all trace of fat in the process, and in a minute you’re well over six feet tall and nearly 300 pounds of beef. Your whole body is completely hairless, including your face and scalp, which will now be a permanently smooth dome, and the tattoos shift and grow up your neck and cover your head as well. The personality creeps up on you, as you stand there, staring at your nasty pig slave, stroking your eight inch, uncut cock, sneering at him. With a snarl, you throw him to the ground and fuck him raw, but you can only manage two orgasms before you start going soft. You’re not done with his hole though–you work your fist deep into him, making him scream as you shove in your whole forearm, screaming insults at him, demeaning him, twiddling his nasty pig cock as he leaks load after load of cum onto the carpet.

Source: rockinbearsncubs

wesleybracken:

Sketch #9 – Mark and Jerry

Mark furrowed his brow, not entirely sure what to make of the email he’d just received from his boss down the hall. Part of it he could understand, but about halfway through it all just sort of…became a bunch of gibberish. Looking it over again, he didn’t want to have talk to him about it. Jerry had been acting strange all day, and he’d seemed a bit meaner than usual lately, and Jerry already hated Mark—he’d rather hire someone younger to replace him for half the wage, but Mark was too good and Jerry knew it. Any sign of weakness could become an excuse.

Still, he did need to know what in the hell Jerry was talking about. He got up, and brought up the email on his phone as he walked down to Jerry’s office, knocked on the door and stepped in before he could hear Jerry warn him not to. He gaped at the sight of his boss, naked aside from a pair of filthy looking, oversized underwear, tattoos coating his body that Mark had never seen, and was he jacking off?

“Get out! Get out, you fucker!”

Mark got out. He got out and he left work and he headed home before the shit could hit the fan, but something wasn’t right, a smell he couldn’t get out of his head, a buzzing at the base of his skull. He arrived home and immediately lit up a cigar—it was an old habit, but one that kept his nerves under control all the same—but this wasn’t the usual brand he smoked, was it? It was sharper and foul and…and…

Mark groaned and started rubbing his cock in his pants, his suit was changing, morphing around him into a pair of overalls that started out clean, but quickly became grubbier and full of holes, his beard whitening and growing long and tangled, his head balding aside from a thin horseshoe, but all he could think of was Jerry, that brief glance he’d gotten at the office, he couldn’t even remember what his face had looked like, but he wanted that filthy cock. He fumbled with his phone, snapped a pic of his dirty old cock and sent it to his boss.

horny wanna cum over

It was a few anxious minutes that he waited, until he got a reply.

still at office, cum fuck me daddy

Mark grabbed a couple extra cigars and climbed in his old, beatup truck. He had a boy to pick up, and they were going to have a wild night together.

He stepped out of the elevator and found a bear fucking a young, chubby cub on the carpet right in front of them.

“Fuck dad, you’re cock is so fucking big, I hope my cock is as big as yours when I grow up.”

“Well, if you want to get bigger, yer gonna have tah eat a whole lotta protein son,” the bear panted, biting and licking at the boy’s neck. “Good thing daddy’s got plenty tah feed ya.”

Mark was really fucking turned on watching them, but he had another date with Jerry. All through the office he could hear the hoots and hollers of rednecks fucking each other’s brains out, and in his boss’ office he found Jerry still in his chair, and he was even filthier than Mark remembered. Tattooed from head to toe, he reeked from across the small room, it was humid with his sweat and musk. He wasn’t alone–some overly buff brute with a shaved head and vacant eyes had his nose suffed in Jerry’s armpit, snorting and licking, jacking his cock wildly, his hairless muscles covered with a sheen of sweat.

“Fuck boy, yer even hotter ‘n I remember,” Mark said.

“Shut up ‘n fuck my filthy hole,” Jerry groaned, putting his legs up on the armrests of the chair.

Mark already had his cock hanging out of his crotchless overalls, and he worked it into the hole. It felt loose and sticky–he wasn’t the first in, but he didn’t care.

“I always hated you most of all, Mark,” Jerry said, and Mark immediately felt his balls tense up and shoot a huge load into Jerry’s ass. He couldn’t stop fucking though, he had lost all control of himself suddenly. "Fuckin’ hated you so much.“ Another massive orgasm, it nearly crippled him but he had to fuck, had to fill the hole up, had to keep going. Jerry was in his head now, he could feel him there, and he came a third time, his balls shooting dry now, blue with pain, he couldn’t think straight, and finally Jerry let him pull out. But his cock was small now, and his balls had shriveled up.

"Bet you’re hungry Mark. Come on piggy, I got some food for you right here,” Jerry said, and let loose a wet fart, cum leaking out of his hole. Mark just stared at it, knees collapsing, crawling forward, lapping up the sweaty, shitty crack, eating his cum out of his boss’ hole, eating all of the cum out of his hole.

“Gonna be my cumpig Mark, fuckin’ hate you, always fuckin’ hated you. Hey, Devon,” he added looking at the muscle brute beside him who had been the office intern, “You hate Mark too now. Fuck Mark’s nasty pighole, fuck it rough, and make him scream, big boy.”