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I’m really curious how do you get such incredible quantities of new ideas each week to sustain this blog? Do you get them mainly from situations in real life or just get inspired by random photos on tumblr?

I suppose it probably seems like a lot, but to me, well, I have a system for it. Or rather, I suppose I turn it into a bit of a game. For me, inspiration tends to come from…a certain element of surprise or randomness in my idea process–I can come up with ideas alright without it, but with it, it tends to give me better results.

At the moment, I save up a large number of pictures from tumblr and elsewhere, and then divide them up randomly into small groups of about five. From those five, I start looking at them for similarities and interesting narratives between pictures. That’s where my recent double picture cations have come from at least. I usually do them in sets of five or six–about an hour’s work. The vignettes at the end of the week just take the kernel of the caption and expand it.

I suppose that sounds like a lot of work, but it really isn’t. I don’t get many ideas from real life though. If anything, most of my cations tend to have something to do with whatever commission/long story I’m working on at the moment. 

“Ah yeah, you fuckin skin slut–how do those fuckin’ boots taste bitch?”

“So fucking good sir, thank you for letting me lick them clean sir,” the boot slave said, and then ran his not dry tongue along the wet leather and across the laces, and when his master rubbed his shaven head with his gloved hand pressing him down into the leather for a few moments, he groaned loudly, feeling his cock ooze precum into his tight leather pants.

Wait–shaved head? Leather pants? Hadn’t…hadn’t he…

His master’s piss surprised him, slamming into the side of his face, and he quickly looked up, mouth open, keeping as much of it from landing on his master’s shoes as possible and swallowed it down in big, heaving gulps, and then, finally, his master allowed him the privilege of sucking his thick cock. He didn’t last long, and they were in a public stall, so they needed to hurry anyway, and his master fed him after a minute of rough pounding thrusts, and then, pulled out, and zipped up, Rudy wiping his lips with the back of his hand…expecting to feel…something other than bare face for some reason, and he was still thinking hard when his master called, “Oi! Bitch, get a fucking move on!”

Rudy shook his head, and hurried out of the stall, but stopped when he saw somwthing strange on the ground. His cowboy boots and jeans…just lying there on the floor. But they couldn’t be his, he was wearing his pants and twenty hole rangers–he didn’t even own cowboy boots…but they were his. They were his, he could almost remember them he could almost…

His master slammed into him and shoved him up against the wall. “Leave them–you’re just a disgusting punk now, just a dumb-ass submissive skin slut who obeys my every fucking command, just a perverted stinking, nasty minded skinpig slave who follows me around because he has nothing better to do with his life, and is too stupid to imagine that things could be different.”

Rudy struggled against his Master’s arm, which was cutting off his air, but in the mirror he could see himself change, the tattoos racing across his arms, the piercings accumulating in his ears, nose, lips and eyebrows. He smirked–he was one hot skinpig, that was for sure, and he gave his master a dumb snort, and licked his lips, his head filling with all sorts of nasty things he hoped his master would do to him later–that he would beg his master to do to him later, and then his master stepped back, and Rudy followed him out, snorting and grunting, paying the boots and jeans no more mind.

favorite caption you’ve ever written?

Can I give you a top five instead?

5 – Mostly because I like the filth and implicit humiliation. The lack of any obvious MacGuffin is kind of intriguing too, and you wonder just how the son is compelling his father.

4 – You see the old addiction MacGuffin thrown around so much, but I’ve always had a soft spot for “porn” addictions. This one, I thought, was a twist I hadn’t seen before.

3 – Besides the nice AR, I’ve always liked the implied progression in this one, both the gradual progression, along with the rest of the world’s apparent ignorance to what’s happening.

2 – I can’t tell you how much I want to continue this one, but alas, time hasn’t given me the opportunity yet. I just want to see him crumble so bad.

1 – Another I’d love to develop at some point in the future. Mostly, I like this because manages to encapsulate an entire story in under 500 words. Most of these are just snippets, but this one just…pulls it off wonderfully.

where else do you post work other than this page and the ncmc?

I have some stuff on FurAffinity here. Be warned, most everything there is furry oriented, but if you like guys turning into literal pigs, bears, cows, horses, etc. I’d take a look. Otherwise, everything I’ve written can be best found here on the tumblr or on the NCMC. There are a few things I haven’t posted anywhere of course, but all of that stuff is unposted for reasons.

Hey, man. Very happy to find your Tumblr page—I’ve been a fan of your writing for quite awhile. I’ve written only one transformation story, “Freaked New Life”, which I posted to the Narcissus Story page. I’ve never finished the damned thing, after the first three chapters…. Anyway, just wanted to give you a shout out, and tell you I enjoy the goodies you share with all of us! Take care, David

Dang, I loved that story! I’d love to see you finish it, or at least write something else. It was a pleasure to read. Thanks for shout out, and go write more, damn it!

Tyler gruffly watched the parade’s festivities, but he sure as hell wasn’t enjoying it. All of these fucking faggots with their disgusting rituals–it was no fucking wonder they were all going to go to hell for it. He was at one end of a small group of protesters, and for the most part, people were just ignoring them, or hadn’t even noticed them. But hell, how could they, when there were men in dresses, and chicks riding on Harleys with their breasts flapping everywhere, and men in disgusting leather straps and plugs in their butts, it was–

“Goodness, doesn’t it just make you proud?”

Tyler hadn’t noticed the man step up next to him, and he snarled back, “No, it doesn’t make me proud, it’s fucking disgusting!”

“No, you aren’t listening,” the man said, and now that he had Tyler’s attention, he locked eyes with him. The man looked perfectly normal, but…his eyes, the iris were black, but the pupils were…white. Tyler couldn’t look away, “Now, doesn’t it make you proud?”

Something felt like the world was rippling around Tyler, and as it passed, he said, “well, sure, I suppose so. I’m not gay though, I’m just an ally.” Something about that seemed like it should surprise him, but he’d come here as part of a counter-protest–wearing a short shirt with a rainbow on to show his support, but he wasn’t gay himself.

“Well, that’s better, but shouldn’t it make you prouder?” the stranger said, and another wave flew over Tyler, and he gave his head a shake. Looking down, he saw he was wearing his favorite tanktop he’d bought at one of the bear runs he’d been to, and some cut off jean shorts. “Well of course it makes me proud, but…I guess not proud enough to actually be out there, eh?” He chuckled at the man.

“Well, then shouldn’t you try and feel the proudest you can feel?”

Another wave, and then Tyler felt something in the music playing from a passing float, and he just wanted to fucking dance. He started grinding his ass into the church fuck next to him, watching the man recoil in horror that “a faggot” might have touched him, and then with a deep laugh, he pushed his way out into the street and started dancing along with the float. Sure, he was in his fifties, but he’d never in his life imagined that in his lifetime the movement could have come this far. Truly, he didn’t think that at that moment he could have been any more proud.

Creative Slump

Due to a variety of things, I didn’t quite have my creative mojo with me this week, and so I failed to get out a vignette, and also won’t have anything to post tomorrow. Hopefully next week will be better, and I’ll try to make it up to you all with an extra vignette. Have a good weekend!