Category: Uncategorized

I’ll chime in about city of bears of why I’m fond of it. I had been reading on mcstories for a while and… I found it hard to find a story I really enjoyed most of the parts of it. Then I found big bears on campus and was ecstatic. It’s probably one of the first stories of the type I found that I really enjoyed. Also the one I’ve jerked off to the most. So perhaps for me, it’s a bit nostalgic?

Yeah, I can totally understand that, trust me. For me, those first few stories that really popped for we were some of @peircedskin‘s earlier stories, mostly off of Malestrom X’s old story archives, as well as the Black Magic series by Onix. I’m still upset that he never ended up finishing it, especially as close to the end he got (or at least, it *seemed* like the end). Alas! It happens to the best and the worst of us.

Not so much a question jist an I love your work. I discovered you on fa a few years ago and just recently rediscovered you here. So glad to be able to get to see your amazing stories grace my eyes again.

Yeah, I kind of gave up on posting to FA to be honest–most of my writing just didn’t quite fit the furry theme of things, and the site is heavily focused on visual art–which is another way of saying I got really sick of designing thumbnails for all of my stories, just so they’d pop a bit on the site. I’m glad you found me again in any case! Thanks for reading.

Hey :). I was curious what is your writing process? Do you create and write a story all in one sitting? Do you sit on a story and edit it later?

At this point in time, most everything I write and post is essentially a single draft. I have an idea, I write the idea–give it a light edit, and then post it. Since most of the stuff I post to tumblr is done in around 1000 word chunks, I try to keep the pacing the of the story fairly even over that length, so each chunk will have a decent amount of action without dragging too much. I don’t usually finish a story in one sitting–I try to write around 2000 words a day, so most stories usually take two or three sessions to finish depending on how efficient I am. I usually edit the story before I post it, which can be a few weeks after I’ve written it, depending on how large of a buffer I have built up of content.

Not to be rude, but why do so many people talk about your “City of Bears” series? Yes, it was good, but it seemed to be just as good as the rest of your awesome works.

This isn’t rude; don’t worry. In fact, it’s a question I’ve wondered myself from time to time, because, in all honesty, I’ve never thought that the writing in my City of Bears stories was particularly masterful or good–mostly because those stories were all experiments for me in one sense or another. 

The initial run, Big Bears on Campus, was my first attempt at vignettes. The next chunk, Bear Boutique, was–at the time–the longest story I had completed, and while I enjoyed it, it’s a bit…rough in a few places. Part of what has always appealed to me about going back and writing a new take on the series was that I could finally take everything I’d learned over the course of writing the stories the first time, go back, and make everything better–closer to what I’d envisioned them being, but didn’t have the skill to manifest.

But they captured the imagination somehow. There’s something really…powerful for queers, I think, to imagine what a world would be like where we aren’t just dominant, but where the entire fabric of reality has twisted to accommodate our zeitgeist. It goes beyond normalcy–where you could be a bear, walk down the street, no no one would look at you twice–and becomes structural–where if you walk down the street and you *aren’t* a bear, you get stared at. A world where your own desires are reflected everywhere you look. It’s something cis het white men (and cis het white women to a lesser extent) get to experience all the time and take for granted, and it’s hard to resist the pull of wanting to know what that’s like.

At least, that was the appeal to me when I was writing it–it’s a power trip, to take the structures of the straight world and contort them until they only make sense from a queer perspective. But as you write in that context, you find out just how very deep the assumptions and structures of straightness go, and just how much you have to revise in order for the world to make sense. It’s both freeing, but also terrifying, trying to imagine what sort of society could exist in that fashion, and what it would look like, because it would be so alien to anything we could live in as we currently exist.

That’s the best way I can explain it, I think, but I’m sure other readers had different experiences with it. It’s hard to get enough distance away from something when you’re the author, to properly analyze it.

I like the stories with diapers and soiling. And also chastity and small dicks. And also the fatties 😁

I’m not sure if this is the same Anon who asked this last week or not, but it seems to follow in the same line as that one. I like all that stuff too for sure, but I don’t write it often enough really, because it isn’t the place my head goes first. I do my best to hit all the bases, but the facts are that 1) some bases are always going to get hit more than others, and 2) this metaphor no longer applies to baseball the way I’ve used it, but whatever. 

A Dog’s Tale (Part 1)

There are, quite simply, some things that you don’t see every day. There I am, walking down the street, heading for the subway. It’s six in the evening, and I’m finally done with at the office–I have just enough time to get home, eat some dinner, and then I have an eight o’clock conference call with some representatives of a company in Japan we’re looking to do business with–look, it’s very important stuff, but it doesn’t really have anything to do with what I’m looking at here, on the street corner. There is a man–a rather dirty man, probably homeless by the look of him–dancing around in a full body dog costume, asking people passing by to pet him, or to let him lick their face.

This fucking city, I fucking swear.

I just don’t get it. Is it performance art? Is it a scheme to make money, like those weirdos I’ve heard about who dress up in Times Square? The suit does look suspiciously like Scooby Doo, or something. Is he looking for pity? Handouts? Attention? I don’t see a cup or hat or anything, and no one seems to be giving him anything. Actually, here’s a better question–why in the fuck am I still watching him a complete fool out of himself?

No, seriously. I’ve been standing here for a couple of minutes, just watching this fucker, unable to believe his utter lack of shame. I mean…what in the world happens to a person, that they think this is acceptable? Maybe I should call the police, before he harrasses a woman or something, tries to lick her tits like a freak or worse. Oh shit, he looked at me–is he? He’s coming over here, now what…

“You want to pet me on the head, sir? I’ve been a real good boy today, I swear!”

“No–I…don’t you see that you’re bothering people? What the fuck are you even doing?”

“I can’t help it! I have to, see, it’s a real long story–I mean, I could tell ya the whole thing, if you want, sir, but only if you’re interested. If not, I can find someone else, maybe…”

I see the dejected look in his eye, and the businessman in me tells me to just push past him and get to the subway already. I mean, if I don’t hurry, I’ll miss my usual train, and then my whole schedule will get thrown out of whack! But some other part of me, I admit it…I’m curious. Besides, I could at least get him off the corner, where he’ll stop harassing people, if nothing else. If he flips out, I’ll just call the cops.

“No, you know what? I have a few minutes. I can listen to your story.”

“Wait, really? Oh man, this was even easier, this time!”

“This time?”

“It’s part of the story, you’ll see!”

“Look, are you hungry? There’s a McDonald’s back that way, I’ll buy you a burger.”

“A…A real burger? Oh holy cow, that’s amazing! I never get a whole burger!”

He’s jumping up and down like a lunatic. What the fucking hell have I gotten myself into?

“Hey, calm down! Yeah, I’ll buy you a burger.”

“Thanks sir! I forget what its like to get more than kibble, is all.”

Don’t ask for details. I don’t…really want to know. I head for the fast food joint a few store front’s back, and I have him sit at a table, while I order us food. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time I’m in the line, and it’s making me feel a bit self-conscious, to be honest. I adjust my suit as I’m standing there, and smile weakly at him–he has the same, big grin that he’s been showing since I started speaking with him, looking like he has everything he wants in the entire world–if only things were so simple.

Me? Well, I want everything. Money. Power. Authority. I mostly have money at the moment, but hey, I’m only thirty-two. I have the foundation, and that’s the most important part–now I just have to build on it. I’m a rising star! I look like it too–a nice gym toned body, manicured hair, clean shaven face. I haven’t found…an appropriate wife yet, but it’s not like I need to hurry up and settle for just anyone. I get up to the counter, and order a salad for myself and a quarter pounder for my…friend? No, hardly friend. I’d just call him a curiosity. Besides, this might be a good story! Just wait until everyone at the office tomorrow hears about this freak. The food’s ready in a couple of minutes–I wait at the counter, because I honetly don’t want to spend any more time sitting with the guy than I have to…and why in the world am I even doing this? I’ve definitely missed my train at this point, and if I don’t get one of the next few, I definitely won’t make it home in time for the conference call. Whatever–I’ll just listen for a couple of minutes, eat my salad, and then ditch. The guy got a meal out of me, what else could he want, really?

I take the tray back over to the table where he’s sitting, and I swear, if the guy had a tail, it would be wagging. He could barely stay sitting down…and fuck, is he drooling? Really? He takes the hamburger–almost forgets that he has to unwrap it–does so, and starts chowing down, grease all over his face, and a look of near ecstasy in his eyes. What kind of person–no, I mean it. What kind of person feels that way about a burger? Especially from McDonald’s? Couldn’t he at least have some standards or something? He finishes the thing in three or four bites, and licks his chops–his lips, I mean, but that’s almost what it looks like, and he sits back, obviously satisfied. Hell, I didn’t even get him french fries–he’s a cheap date, at least.

“So, your story? I gotta leave here in a few minutes, so you’d better tell the fast version.”

“Oh! Oh! The story! I love the story! It’s really good, trust me. It is kinda long though, and I’m kinda bad at telling it, cause I can get a bit distracted. But look–this might seem hard to believe, but there was a time when you and I–we weren’t so different, not at all. I was wearing a suit, I wanted money, and things, and sex–everything I could get my hands on, and I thought I was happy, just like you think you are. But then I met Master Joel…and Master Joel changed everything…”