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I’ve tried writing some stories myself and while once I manage to get them going writing down the rest isn’t a problem, I always struggle with the very beginning, deciding if I should start with some backstory, exposition about the characters or jump straight to action. Any suggestions on how to improve on that?

Well, the first piece of advice is that if the beginning is boring you, it’s going to bore the reader. Still, don’t forget that you can always go back and revise the beginning to include information you might have skipped over. My advice, is to start with the action, the core you want to write, and then you can always revise it with a longer beginning after you’ve gotten it down to begin with.

Daddy Cop Part 2

Where in the hell had Jeff gotten off to? The old fuck just needed to retire, Peter thought, as he waited outside the bar for his partner to return. Still, it was getting a bit late, maybe he needed some help. Still, it could wait until he finished his cigar at least. He took another drag, and glared at a couple of guys heading into the bar, enjoying the look of intimidation which flashed across their faces. He took another drag, chuckling, when the door opened and someone new stepped out–a fat old daddy bear, clad in leather his nine inch cock hanging out for everyone to see, and he growled, “There you are son–get the fuck in here.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Peter said, realizing the man had addressed him, but before he could do anything, the man had grabbed Peter by the collar and dragged him into the bar. Peter didn’t remember much of what happened after that. As soon as he was in the bar, the older man’s hard cock rubbing up against his uniform, leaving drools of precum across his pants and ass, and then everything just went blurry, and the next thing he remembered was a sharp pain in his ass, and he opened his eyes, looking up and finding the man from the bar looming over him, now completely naked, and the man smirked.

“Good morning, son,” the man said in his deep voice that made Peter’s cock instantly hard.

“Oh…daddy,” Peter said, his voice higher than usual. What was wrong with him? Where was he?

Daddy Jeff drove his cock deeper into Peter’s hole, watching his cub moan and shudder as all nine inches worked it’s way into his ass. Jeff could distantly remember what Peter had looked like before, but he looked so much better now, after a night in the bar with him. He loved the goatee, the tattoos sleeves, the fat ass and jiggly gut, but mostly he loved his son’s new attitude. He did everything his daddy told him to do after all, and he loved it.

Peter did his best to fight against the new compulsions, but by the time his daddy finished his morning fuck, he was too far gone to do anything beyond moan, and jack his cock, cumming in tandem with his daddy, before sucking down his daddy’s load of morning piss from his huge cock. “Can we go to the bar again tonight, Daddy?”

“Sure son, how about we dress you up like a leather cubslut, and have you kneel in the bathroom as the club’s hot cumdump and urinal? You’d like that, wouldn’t you son?”

“More than anything, Daddy,” Peter said with a sigh, hugging his father close, “More than anything.”

Daddy Cop Part 1

How in the hell did he get turned around in here? Jeff and his partner were only supposed to check for any minors on the premises, but now he couldn’t even find his way out. Jeff had gone in alone–Peter, his young partner, was too lazy to give much of a fuck, and had stuck around outside to smoke one of those cigars of his. Jeff sighed and hefted his belt up under his gut. This close to retirement, and the department gives him a fucking hotshot. Even though Jeff was the senior partner by about twenty-five years, Peter couldn’t be bothered to care at all about what the older man might have to say.

Jeff pushed through another crowd and into another room, looking for the exit, but the bar was really something closer to a complex–and there definitely weren’t any minors here. Hell, if there were, they would stick out like a sore thumb in this place–one of those gay bear bars apparently–but there had been some rumors about strange happenings in this club, and so the department was looking for a possible reason to start a broader investigation. The place was smoky too–but it wasn’t pot–it smelled more like tobacco, but as much as he would have liked to enforce the ban on indoor smoking, he couldn’t find anyone smoking at all, and then he looked down at his hand, and found the huge pipe sitting in his palm.

Well that explained why the smoke kept following him, but what in the world was he doing with a pipe? He shouldn’t be smoking, Marsha would kill him, even if…even if the smoke was kind of arousing, and…and who was Marsha? He brought the pipe back up to his mouth and sucked down another lungful of smoke, like he’d been doing for several minutes now, completely oblivious to it, and he wasn’t quite able to figure out where the line between his terror and arousal was. He ran one gloved hand over his hairy gut, feeling himself shiver as his cock got a bit hard.

Wait, his belly? He looked down, and saw that his uniform had disappeared–or at least most of it had…or had he come in this? He usually wore a leather harness on his nights out to the club after all, and he loved leaving his dick hanging out from his chaps. His big, fat daddy dick, with a big PA in the head. A skimpily dressed cub danced up to him suddenly and started grinding up on him, and with a growl Jeff leaned over and blew a huge breath of smoke down the young man’s throat, watching him squirm and writhe in pleasure. When he broke the kiss off, Jeff shoved the cub down onto his knees and roughly face fucked him on the dance floor, a small ring of men surrounding them and cheering them on, until Jeff shot a load across the cub’s face.

Something was wrong. Something had happened to him, he had to get out of here, didn’t he? He had…someone was waiting for him outside. His partner? No…not his partner, his…his boy. His cub…his son…yeah, his hot son, but he needed some discipline, Jeff thought, his cock hardening again as he tromped through the club to the entrance and marched up the steps into the cool night air.

To be concluded…

Tommy couldn’t remember much about the party he’d attended the night before–everything had gotten really fuzzy after his second drink, the one the older guy had brought him. “How are you feeling, piggy?” the man said, unzipping Tommy’s pants and feeling up his cock, while other men looked on, grinning, “You’re gonna be a good little piggy for me, aren’t you?”

Tommy couldn’t fight the men off as they stripped him down and started dressing him up, shoving a curly pig tail dildo in his ass, putting a leather harness on him, gagging him so the only sounds he could make were grunts and snorts as the men abused his chubby body, fucking both of his holes as they all told him what a good pig he was being. The next morning, he could only remember snippets of all of it, but as he stared at himself in the bathroom in his hotel room, he knew something must have happened to him, because he was different. Really different.

His mouth and nose had started to flatten and push out into a snout. His hair was falling out all over his body, aside from a coating of bristly fur along his back. Two tusks were starting to push their way out of his bottom jaw and curl up around his lips as he let out a few grunts and snorts, jacking off his now sheathed, corkscrew shaped cock with his three fingered, trottered hands.

“Soooey!’ the voice outside his hotel room said again, and the man knocked again, louder this time, “You almost ready for me piggy? I bet you’re looking handsome this morning. I can’t wait to get you down on the farm, watching up roll in the mud and the muck. Open the door piggy, open the door for your farmer…”

It was getting harder to think now, and his eyes were looking smaller and duller in the mirror, as another orgasm wracked it’s way through Tommy’s pig cock. They seemed to last forever, and the counter was coated in his pig cum, a curly tail pushing its’ way out above his ass, and he tromped his heavy body to the door. His farmer was out there–his master. He needed to let him in. He needed a good piggy fuck this morning, and he unbolted the door.

There just had to be an easier way, didn’t there? Sure, diet and exercise would work, but that didn’t mean he wanted to put in that much effort. Part of the problem was that Vance was just a bit too clever for his own good. There always had to be a shortcut–some better way to do something, and he’d often waste hours trying to improve some process that he could have finished in less time if he’d just done it.

And so, that was how he ended up looking online for weight loss tricks, when he could have been researching diets and joining a gym. Still, he did find something a bit interesting–a hypnosis program which promised to give him the willpower to become the muscle beast he’d always wanted to be. Of course, Vance was convinced that he was too smart to ever be hypnotized, but he was curious, so he downloaded the free files and gave a listen, but as soon as the induction had played, he was nearly drooling on his computer.

The files, it turned out, weren’t really hypnosis files–they were a bit more advanced than that. Instead of suggestions, the high frequency white noise blasting into his ears was actually dismantling his brain bit by bit. Trapped inside, unable to move, Vance screamed as his intellect and his clever ideas were slowly replaced by brute instinct and drive. The files finally ended, and the beast in Vance’s body got up with a grunt and started working his body to exhaustion, no longer able to speak, no longer able to think about anything other than working out and building the body of his simple dreams.