Have you ever attempted writing a story(series) based on a more realistic approach to your style of ruining someone? Slowly breaking a character down through means available to anyone in real life and not using magic or hypnosis/mind control. Kind of like a Stockholm syndrome situation where the captive slowly bends and warps over time learning to love their captor and what they can realistically change in their body and mind?

I’m not a huge fan of more realistic changes to be honest. The pleasure for me in these sorts of stories are the more horrific/fantastical elements. That said, I do occasionally have stories that rely more on isolation and torture, but very few.

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 3)

“Now boy, we’re going to have get a few things straight,” my uncle said, as my cousin picked up speed in my dad’s ass, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I’m gonna tell you right now–this can go one of two ways. I know ya ain’t a bastard like your father–or at least I assume ya ain’t. If you’re good, and do what I say, I can make sure we both get what we want, got it? We can be real happy together, but for that to work, I’m gonna need your cooperation. Now, ya got a solid will on ya, I’ll give you that–it’d be a lot easier if you were a dumbass like my son over there–course, I can make ya a dumbass just like him. That what you want boy? You wanna be some useless pig fucker like him?”

I looked over at my nephew, fat and sweaty, his lank hair hanging around his fat, bearded face. “I…I don’t understand, I don’t know why you’re doing this to us.”

“You’ll get answers when you need answers. For the mean time, I need to know if you’re gonna cooperate, or if I need tah make ya cooperative. In fact? Here’s what we’ll do. He spun me back around, and when he started speaking again, it was like the night before, out on the patio–but somehow…less intense. At the very least, I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out like I had the night before, but my body couldn’t move–all I could do was listen. Listen while my uncle told me how I didn’t just want his old body–but that I lusted after my cousin’s filthy, disgusting, fat body just as much as my asshole father did. After a few minutes of that, I could move again–and I made a beeline right for my cousin, shoving my face in one of his stinking pits, screaming inside, but I couldn’t control myself at all, I couldn’t stop.

“Alright Gabe, you show that cousin of yours a nice time now–make sure he understands exactly what’s gonna happen to him if he don’t start cooperatin’, got it?”

“S-Sure thing, Pa,” my cousin said, and pulled out of my dad’s ass, “You heard him boy–you’re mine for a bit. Git down here ‘n slobber on my pole, taste that grungy hole a yer dad’s.”

I didn’t want to, but I had to. I dropped to my knees and started slobbering all over my cousin’s massive cock, tasting my dad’s ass and flecks of his shit. I wanted to gag, but I wanted to taste it. I needed it, almost as much as I needed to taste my uncle’s cum again.

“Alright bro,” my uncle said to my dad, “Come on–we need to have a nice chat while the boys keep each other occupied.”

I saw him shaking his head, and heard him whimper a bit, but he was as helpless as I was. My uncle dragged him out of the room and shut the door behind them, leaving us alone, Gabe’s cock still planted deep in my throat…but he went a bit slower, listening as the sounds of my uncle and dad drifted off into another part of the cabin. “Alright–ya need tah listen. I didn’t think I’d git a chance, but ya–yer the only one who can stop this.”

I tried to ask what he meant, but I couldn’t get a word out around his cock, and he gave me a smack across the face.

“I said listen! We ain’t got a lotta time, ‘n ya got orders tah follow. The harder ya suck, the better ya’ll be able tah listen. It’s…it’s how it works. The more willin’ ya are, the less it’ll break yer mind–unless he wants tah break it–but that’s the thing. He need ya.”

So he told me a story–a story which…was very hard to believe, but the more he told, the more sense it made. He told me, first of all, that I wasn’t really his cousin–that Gabe wasn’t related to any of us, in fact. I thought that was insane, until he started pressing me on it, asking me if I could remember anything about my aunt–his mother…and I realized that I couldn’t. In fact, I knew almost nothing about Gabe, beside the fact that he was my cousin, and my uncle’s son. No–Gabe had, in fact, been one of my uncle’s neighbors, and after my uncle had found the talisman, the one he’d chosen to work his new powers on, as a test.

It was an amulet. So long as it was touching my uncle’s skin, he could control almost anyone–but it went further than that. He could…change things. Change people. Warp reality around him. He’d used it to turn Gabe into his son, twisting him into the fat, grungy pervert I could remember–but who I could only remember thanks to the amulet’s work. The catch, however, was that the amulet doesn’t work on him.

“He can’t change himself–that’s the curse. In fact, usin’ it just ruins his life more ‘n more. Lost his job, almost lost the trailer–that’s why we’ve been livin’ here, but the place…fuck, it’s fallen apart around us, every day. That’s why he needs you. He…fuck, he hates yer dad, man. He fuckin’ hates him. Never really told me why, but somethin’ yer dad did to him…I think he told everyone he was gay, and that’s why he got shipped off into the army, while yer dad got to go to college. He wants his life–and he also wants you. He’s always wanted a son, but I…I was never real enough for him. He wants you, real family blood. But tah take his place, he needs someone else to change him! Then, once he’s got what he needs, the life he wants, he’s gonna ditch the amulet here.”

I pulled away from his cock, ready to dismiss it as insane…but what other explanation could there be, really? I hadn’t seen the amulet myself–but my uncle had worn his shirt to bed. Was it for safekeeping?

“But don’t…don’t fuckin’ trust him! He’ll fuck ya over too, he’ll tell ya anythin’ ya wanna hear, but don’t fuckin’ do it. But if…if ya…fuck…fuck pig, git that mouth a yers back round mah stinkin’ cock!”

He slammed his dick back in me before I could ask more, but he didn’t say anything else–whatever moment of coherence he’d had, it was swallowed back up by my uncle’s orders, and the two of us fell into a new round of debauchery, me worshiping his body and eventually riding his cock on the filthy bed, taking two loads of his cum in my ass and loving every moment of it. I was busy on his feet when my uncle opened the door again, and told me to come with him–that it was time for us to have our chat.

November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

wesleybracken:

Hey everyone! It’s that time on the month again, where if you support me on Patreon at any level, you can submit ideas for me to turn into short stories! You can find more details if you follow the link. One dollar a month gives you the ability to make suggestions, and it also gives you access to the stories once I post them later this month, as well as all the other suggested stories I’ve written in months past!

Also! For those who were curious, here’s the results of the poll from last week, where you all could vote for your favorite sketches.

1st Place: “Orwell’s Demon” (24 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Coach Ray Gets Trained” (16 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Subway” (16 Votes)
4th place: “Locker Room Spirit” (11 Votes)
Last Place: “Job Revenge” (9 Votes)

I’ll most definitely be writing an expanded version of “Orwell’s Demon” over the next couple months, and will also probably expand upon the longer version of “Coach Ray Gets Framed” that I started and left unfinished. If I have time, I’ll work on a longer version of subway as well! Thanks again for everyone who participated! I might start doing this on an occasional basis in the future–we’ll see!

Just a reminder, for everyone on Patreon, to get your suggestions in! I’ll be closing the box in a couple of days.

November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 2)

The next thing I know, I’m waking up in bed. My head is aching, I feel sick to my stomach, and I can’t remember much of anything from the night before–I don’t even know how I managed to get to bed. The only thing I do remember at all clearly is my uncle with his hands down my pants outside, once we were alone…and I remember…I remember how excited I was.

It feels so wrong, I know it’s wrong, but the more I think about it, the more I try and convince myself that what I’m feeling isn’t right…the more I remember, the more everything starts to just…come clear in my head. I can taste him, the cigar on his breath, feel the heat of it as he fills my lungs and I try not to cough, and I’ve wanted to taste him for so long and he’s finally here, and I can sense that he wants me just as much as I have always wanted him.

The night is cold, but with my back to the fire and my uncle’s hot cock slammed in my throat, I couldn’t be warmer or more satisfied. It’s my first time with anyone, and it’s a sloppy job, and he’s patient, but firm–warning me about teeth, helping me understand my gag reflex, praising me, and then hauling me up, dragging me inside, throwing me onto his bed (which my dad is absent from for some reason). His cock is still wet with my spit as he hauls off my pants, and I want him inside me, I want his cock in me more than anything, I’m begging for it, and fuck, it hurts. Still, he’s gentle, sliding it into be gently, lubing it up with more of his spit, drooled onto the shaft of his cock, and it isn’t too long before I’m open, his cock buried to the root, and I cum. I can’t hold it anymore, my cock starts to spasm and explode against the sheets beneath me, but my uncle is just warming up, and being fucked by him–I feel complete. I feel so…complete, and it’s all I wanted, all I ever wanted.

I shake my head and sit up in bed, trying to get rid of the images. It had to be a dream, some fucked up dream, but it was real, somehow I know it’s real.

“Finding out how much you enjoyed yourself last night, Evan? Cause I sure as hell enjoyed the hell out of your ass, boy.”

No–no, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t look, I couldn’t, but he reached out and touched me, a hand running down my back and thigh, making me shiver with need. “I…what if my dad finds out?”

My uncle laughed. “Don’t you worry about them, boy,” he said, and got out of bed beside me. “I gotta piss–and let’s see how your dad is doing with his nephew.”

I…I had no idea what that might mean, but when I saw what was happening in the other room…it wasn’t anything I might have imagined. There was my dad, with his face shoved in one of my cousin’s grungy boots, while my cousin was fucking him over the side of the bed–it was…disgusting, and I stepped back in horror, right into my uncle’s waiting arms. “See boy? We can have the whole day to ourselves, see?”

“What…what did you do to me last night?”

My uncle laughed, “Just finally getting what I want, boy, that’s all–and making sure that asshole brother of mine gets what he deserves too. Now come on–you want your uncle’s hot cock filling that hole of yours again, don’t you?” he reached around and groped my hard cock, “Sure feels like you do, boy.”

I did–I really did, but I pulled away, flung open the door to the other room, and yelled at my dad, telling him that we needed to get out of here, that my uncle–he was doing something to us…and the look my dad gave me when he looked up from that boot? I can’t tell you what I saw, behind the euphoria. It was…resignation. I looked to my nephew, and he too, had the same look. They knew–I was the last one to know. Had I just not realized it? Had I just been the last of his targets?

“Now now boy,” my uncle said, grabbing me by the wrist, “No need to disturb them while they’re having their fun. Now come on.”

I tried to tug away, but his grip was too tight–he hauled me close to him and kissed me, the stale smoke on his breath both vile and so sexy…and I melted into him with such relief I wanted to scream at myself. “Please, I don’t…want this, not really, please don’t do this to me…” I said.

“You got yourself a solid will, boy, I can admire that–but this isn’t about what you want, trust me. Now come on, I’m gonna have to punish you for being a bad, willful little bitch.”

He didn’t even wait until we were back in the other room–he just shoved me up against the wall in the hallway and drove his cock into my ass again. Thankfully it was still loose from the night before, but it still hurt so badly–so badly, and yet I wanted it. I could hear myself, the words falling out my mouth, loud enough that I knew my father could hear, begging my uncle to fuck me harder, and harder, and harder–and he did everything I asked, with plenty of gusto, until he filled my guts again. I wanted to cry, but instead I shot my own load all up and down the wall in front of me–and when he ordered me to lick it clean…I did.

While I cleaned the wall, my uncle went into the room, hollered at my cousin to hurry up and finish, because he needed some personal time with his dumbass brother. I tried to run, I tried to get up and run, but I had to lick up my cum, I had to–at some point, the same, strange stupor from the night before had fallen over me, and I couldn’t resist him–and I had a feeling that my uncle’s plans for us were just beginning.

November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Hey everyone! It’s that time on the month again, where if you support me on Patreon at any level, you can submit ideas for me to turn into short stories! You can find more details if you follow the link. One dollar a month gives you the ability to make suggestions, and it also gives you access to the stories once I post them later this month, as well as all the other suggested stories I’ve written in months past!

Also! For those who were curious, here’s the results of the poll from last week, where you all could vote for your favorite sketches.

1st Place: “Orwell’s Demon” (24 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Coach Ray Gets Trained” (16 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Subway” (16 Votes)
4th place: “Locker Room Spirit” (11 Votes)
Last Place: “Job Revenge” (9 Votes)

I’ll most definitely be writing an expanded version of “Orwell’s Demon” over the next couple months, and will also probably expand upon the longer version of “Coach Ray Gets Framed” that I started and left unfinished. If I have time, I’ll work on a longer version of subway as well! Thanks again for everyone who participated! I might start doing this on an occasional basis in the future–we’ll see!

November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 1)

It wasn’t a trip I wanted to be on by any measure, it was one that my dad had told me I was going to go on, and that was that. Family bonding and all of that nonsense. What confused me the most about the entire thing was the fact that my dad fucking hated his brother–my uncle. He trashed him all the fucking time as some backwoods hick fucker–told me that if I didn’t get into college, I’d end up just like him and my dumbass nephew. Of course, all things considered, my uncle wasn’t doing that poorly–he’d gone into the military, and now he worked as a consultant for a defense contractor–he flew out to DC for meetings every few months, and did a lot of stuff remotely, but it could afford him a good house out in the sticks–and also gave my nephew the ability to sit on his ass all fucking day long.

They’d had some big falling out, around the time my uncle had gone into the military, and my dad had been preparing to go off to college. I…don’t know any of the details, but I know my dad hadn’t seen my uncle since. They talked on the phone occasionally, usually around holidays. The conversations were always…tense, even if it didn’t sound like they were talking about anything much, and when my dad put me on to talk to him, he always supervised the conversation for whatever reason. Then, grandpa died, and everyone went out for the funeral…and apparently he and my dad buried the hatchet, because now, all he can fucking talk about is this fucking hunting trip.

My dad has never hunted in his life. Well, he probably did when he was a kid–I know my grandpa was a big hunter, and my uncle has mentioned hunting trips in the past that he went on with him, though I can’t remember if he ever said that my father had gone along. In any case, I’ve never gone hunting, nor have I ever desired to. If anything, I think it’s kind of fucked up, to go out into the woods just to kill a thing and mount it on your wall. Still, my dad refused to take no for an answer, so we’re all packed up and driving the four hours to my uncle’s cabin for what my dad is promising will be a “real treat.”

No wi-fi, probably not even a bathroom–what the fuck? We arrive, and to my surprise, the place is actually fit for human habitation. It only has two bedrooms, so I have to bunk with my cousin…which is a bit awkward. I mean, I barely know him at all, and it doesn’t help that he’s in his thirties, while I’m still in the middle of college. He’s big fellow–probably close to 300 pounds, and when I get there, his shit is already thrown all over the room…and it stinks, honestly, like he didn’t even bother to wash any of his clothes before he came. I shove his shit over to his side, and drop my bag on the bed–it’s pretty late at this point, the sun is setting, so my uncle suggests we have dinner and relax a while…and that’s when things start to get a bit odd–or odder, I suppose, since the whole thing is still strange.

My dad…he seems really tense, and yet he seems happy to be here all the same. My cousin breaks into the beer and starts chugging away while my uncle cooks on the grill–I don’t think he says two words the whole time, just belches and chugs. My uncle offers me a beer, and I refuse–my dad, always a stickler in most cases insists I take it and when my uncle offers my dad a cigar, he lights the thing up eagerly. My dad. The militant non-smoker. Smoking a cigar. I don’t know what to say, and so I don’t say anything. We all eat, and my uncle starts a fire in the pit as it gets dark, and we crowd around it.

I finish one beer slowly, only to have another pressed into my hand. My dad gets up and says he’s tired from the drive and wants to go to bed–I try to go with him, but he and my uncle say I should stay up a bit more and hang out with my family–I hardly know them, right? But as soon as my dad is inside, my uncle gives my cousin a…a look, and he heaves himself up and heads inside too, swaying a bit drunkenly as he does, leaving my uncle and I alone in the dark, beside each other at the fire.

I don’t know what to say, but my uncle fills the silence naturally. His words…they have a real easy rhythm, you know? I’m just looking at the fire, staring at the flames dancing, and he’s talking to me, murmuring in my ear, and I don’t even really know what he’s saying anymore. I just feel…tired. Really tired. So tired I want to shut my eyes, but I have to keep staring at the flame, right?

I try to say something, I try to say I want to go to bed…and that’s when I realize something is really wrong with me. I can’t. I can’t do anything. I’m slumped in that chair, completely relaxed, and my uncle starts rubbing his hand over my body, feeling me up, and I’m trying to flinch away, I’m trying to say no, but all I do is groan. I groan…because it feels good. Really good. His hand is slipping lower, down into my pants now, and I’m disgusted but at the same time I want him to touch me so badly. I feel my eyes finally slipping shut, and as I do, I shudder, my cock exploding in my uncle’s hand, and the last things I hear him say, before I slip under, are:

“That’s a good boy, we’re gonna be real happy together, just you wait.”