Holiday Curses – Thanksgiving (Part 4)

“Alright Luke, It’s your turn,” Mark said, “Come along now.”

Unable to resist, though it was clear he was fighting it as much as he could, he followed his younger brother back into another bedroom, and sat down on the bed, where Mark motioned for him to sit. “What the fuck is this shit?” he asked, trying to sound tough, but he was obviously confused, and scared, “You’d better cut this faggot shit out right fucking now.”

“Luke, you’re not going to be in a position to give orders anymore–not to me, or anyone else. No, I think that it is time that you learned what it meant to obey.”

Before Luke could say anything else, Mark opened the palm of his hand, and blew some of the prepared dust into his brother’s face. For a moment it scrunched up, like he was going to sneeze, but then it went completely slack, ready to listen, and absorb. Mark would give him three directives–and Luke would follow all three of them like they were all his own desires and thoughts. He wouldn’t remember any of this happening at all, in fact.

“Your first commandment. You will go to this address, when we are finished here. You will believe that the man who lives there, by the name of Buzz, to be a long time friend of yours, who you live with. You are going to ask Buzz to get you a job with him, working as a trash collector, because it is the only job you have ever wanted. You will be so thankful, when Buzz gets you your dream job, that you will be willing to do anything Buzz tells you to do, from that point on. That is the first.”

Luke gave a shudder, his eyes rolling back in his head for a moment, and then flipped forward, and he nodded, slowly. Buzz was an…acquaintance Mark had made, while he was preparing for his revenge–a dirty pervert who worked for the trash company, and who also happened to dabble in a bit of magic on occasion, though a…darker sort than Mark was practicing. He had gotten Mark some specialized ingredients, in exchange for, well, one of his brothers.

“Your second commandment. From now on, it will no longer occur to you to practice any sort of hygiene. You will forget to shower and shave, you won’t cut your hair or brush your teeth. You won’t change your clothes. The dirtier you become, the more you will enjoy being dirty. The more you enjoy being dirty, the more turned on you will become by your own filthy self, as well as by the dirty bodies of other men. Soon, the only thing that will get you hard, is being close to another unwashed man like you. That is the second.”

Again, his brother shuddered, and then went slack. It was time for the third. This one…well, Buzz had requested it, so he had to deliver. Still, even this was a bit more than he had planned for his brother.

“Your third commandment. You will, from now on, lose all control over your bladder and bowels. This will cause you great humiliation and shame, but you will find yourself unable to stop from soiling yourself over and over again. You will find it necessary to wear diapers, but you will find yourself unable to change them–only other men will be able to put a new diaper on for you. Wearing a dirty diaper will make you feel terrible, but it will also make you feel incredibly horny all the time, and the dirtier a diaper becomes, the more filthy and perverse your own desires will grow. That is the third.”

There was a third shudder from his brother, and when he snapped out of it, there was a loud fart from his brother, as he shit into the back of the jeans he was wearing, a dark patch on the front showing that he was pissing himself as well. He turned beet red, but snatched the address from his younger brother. “I…I have somewhere I need to get to, I…whatever, faggot.” Luke said, and fled the house in his dirty jeans, climbed into his car, and headed for Buzz’s apartment, and for whatever else Buzz had planned for him.

Finally, that left his father and his uncle–and the curse he had planned would work well enough for them both. His father and uncle had always prided themselves on escaping their redneck youth, and making their way to the city. As conservative as they were, they also hated the remnants of their family there, and saved a special kind of derision for them when they talked about it. Well, Mark had a spell that could make it so they had never even left.

It was a fate spell–he could go back to crucial moments in a person’s life, and set them off on a different course–and for his uncle and father, he knew exactly what kinds of fates to give them. He was going to derail their college hopes, and to do so, he was going to make each of them fall in love with someone back in the country, starting a relationship that would render their current self no more, aside from a faint memory. But who does Mark decide to set his father and uncle up with in the past?

Alright, these are some possible characters that his father and uncle might get hitched up with in the past. I might also mix and match qualities a bit, or combine characters, if it works out. The nice poll site got broke again for the month (I think this is probably all my fault that it keeps exceeding it’s bandwidth lol) so we’re back to poll junkie for the moment.

Older, dominant town sheriff
Dirty, perverse pig farmer
Massively obese truck driver
Rough, leather clad biker
Cigar smoking football coach
Lazy unemployed trailer trash

Here’s the public poll!

Here’s the patron only poll!

Discord Server Update!

Hey all! I started up a little discord server a few months ago for higher tier patrons, just to test out the service and see if I liked it and what it’s capabilities were, and I’m opening up the server to all patrons at the five dollar tier and above! Over on the server, you can:

Suggest photos and ideas for caption stories!

Participate in group RP sessions and games!

Give me input on stuff that you’d like to see more often!

It’s fun, and the more the merrier. If that sounds like something that would interest you, you can sign up here! If you’re already a patron at that level, and don’t know what discord is, it’s basically a service that sets up private and public chat rooms for groups of people! You can find more details on the service here. If you’re a five dollar patron already, but don’t know if you have access, all you have to do is link your discord and your patreon accounts together! You can find out how to do that here.

Thanks for reading as always!

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 7)

Chance struggled harder, but he could feel himself shrinking further with each notch, and no matter how hard he tried to free himself, the smaller he became, the heavier Dingo seemed to become–and the harder it was becoming to breathe. He kept struggling anyway, and the badger allowed him to do so, walking around and feeding Dingo his cock for a few minutes, ignoring Chance as he cursed him, pleaded with Dingo to listen to him, and kept struggling, but now, it really was hopeless. He was just…too small. Too small to do anything, and after a time, he collapsed, heaving for breath, losing feeling in his legs from the weight of Dingo pressing down on them. Seeing that he’d finally given up, Geoff walked back around, and pushed his police boot against Chance’s face. “Lick it, pup. Show me you’re sorry with that little tongue of yours.”

Chance pulled his face away, and the badger grabbed the end of the collar again, and tugged it, but didn’t pull it tighter yet. “Lick it, or you’ll be even smaller–so small, I might just let your fat husband here squish you to death. Hell, maybe I’ll even feed you to him as a snack.”

Chance looked up at Geoff, at the badger’s grin, at how…far away it was, all of a sudden, and he realized just how much of a miscalculation he had made. A miscalculation about this badger, about just how…sadistic of an animal he was dealing with. He could see there, that he would, in fact, shrink him down into a snack and feed him to the lug squishing him under his bulk–and given how far gone Angus was…Chance had little doubt that the dog would feel much remorse at all at doing so. He looked at the toe of the boot inches from his face now, and wondered, for a moment, if being eaten might be the better proposition…but that was ludicrous. Just…Just lick the boot! Just give the crazy fucker what he wanted. His head was spinning, and he felt like he was going to pass out–he just couldn’t catch his breath. Just be a good boy, and lick the boot like he should do, because…because Master told him to. So he did, surprised at how much of it his tongue could reach from where he was pinned on the floor, and the badger lifted the boot up and let him lick the bottom.

“That’s a good boy, a very good boy. Lick that boot nice and clean–you like the taste of dirty boots, don’t you little pup?”

It…did taste kind of good, didn’t it?

“I want to hear you say it, pup. I want to hear you say that you’re a naughty, dirty, boot licking pup. Say it.”

No, he wasn’t going to say it, but he didn’t stop licking–he just…pretended like he hadn’t heard what he said. Geoff chuckled, but didn’t tighten Chance’s collar again–instead, he reached over and loosened the collar on Dingo. In a few seconds, Dingo had grown a four or five inches taller still–and packed on even more weight than before, crushing Chance down a little further.

“Say it, you dumb, worthless little pup.”

“I’m…a dirty, bootlicking pup,” Chance wheezed out, now earnestly struggling to breathe. “Please, sir, I can’t–I can’t breathe…”

The badger let him struggle another moment, and then told Dingo to get up, and let Chance catch his breath. Chance sat up, happy to be getting lungfuls of air for the first time, and looked around the room–everything…was bigger. He forced himself upright, but that didn’t help much–he had to be less than five feet tall–at the most. More likely, he was around four and a half–much, much smaller than the other two, and especially Dingo, who was even larger than before.

“Sigh, what to do with such a naughty, obstinate pup,” Geoff said to himself, tapping one claw on his chin, “I’m going to have to give you something else to focus that naughty energy on, you know. Something to keep you occupied, you dirty pup. Dingo, drop those trousers of yours, and bend over–let’s see that wide ass of yours.”

Dingo nodded, and did as the badger ordered, though it was a bit tight of space for him where they were in the hall. His hips were wide enough to almost touch both sides of the hall, creating a massive furry wall of ass right in front of Chance, who gulped.

“Well go on–if you’re as dirty a pup as you say you are, you know what you want. Don’t pups like you love sniffing other dog’s holes? I never understood it much myself, but to each their own.”

Before Chance could object, the badger grabbed him by the back of the head, and shoved him in snout first, and the scent was overwhelming to his new nose. He tried to push back anyway, but the badger was too strong.

“Good boy, eat that doggy hole.”

Yeah…yeah, he was a good boy, a good, dirty pup. He gave it a lick, and then another one.

“Good boy, get in there, I want to hear Dingo moaning.”

Chance dug in deeper with his tongue, and he could hear Dingo moan, and he knew he was doing good, doing really good. He was a good boy, a good boy for his master.

“Yeah, that’s right. Get it good and clean now–that’s what you’re job is going to be, I think, a naughty little pup like you. It still might be a bit too much for you to handle–cleaning asses, licking boots, sucking on our dirty paws after a long days work. I don’t know if you’re up to it, honestly.”

Chance licked harder–he…wanted to be a good boy, he wanted to be a good ass licker, a good paw licker. Geoff grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him out of Dingo’s crack, and he whined.

Holiday Curses – Thanksgiving (Part 3)

Isaac had always been around when Mark was growing up–but he had never really been as direct a tormentor as his two brothers or his father. No, what Mark resented about Isaac was that, as far as his father was concerned, Isaac was the third son he should have had–he was everything that he had wanted for Mark, but which Mark had been too faggoty to get for himself. A start football player, all the way through college, though he leveraged that into a career running a local gym rather than keep playing and trying to go pro.

Mark hated him for that–not because of his success, or because his father loved Isaac more than him, but because he looked…fucking perfect. He always had a great body and physique, despite the fact that all his youth, Isaac ate like a total pig and glutton. It had never slowed him down though, not once, and while he ate better now that he was older, he still…had that in him, that gluttony that no one else could see. Well, Mark was going to make sure everyone saw it from now on.

He didn’t lead Isaac into a bedroom, but rather into the kitchen, where he ordered his cousin to strip out of his clothes. Meanwhile, Isaac pulled a paint can out of his bag as well as a brush, and popped off the top. It had taken a few tries to get this one right, when he’d been working on it with his boyfriend, but he was quite happy with the result of the imago curse. It wouldn’t need a circle and a spell like with his brother–this solution, once painted all over Isaac’s body, would take care of everything.

Once Isaac was naked, Mark began the process of applying the solution onto his body from the head down. It was thick, but went on clear and even. Isaac tried to ask him what this was, but Mark didn’t reply–so he just allowed him to apply it, moving his body so he could get everywhere with the stuff, even the soles of his feet and between the cheeks of his ass.The stuff was clear, but had an odd sheen to it. I stayed wet the entire time Mark was applying it, until he had successfully covered everywhere on Isaac’s body. Then, all at once, he felt the paint harden and also constrict, binding to his skin, or fusing with it. He scratched at his body, trying to get it off, but it was…gone. It was just him, and his own skin, but something was different, something was wrong with him.

“There we go Isaac, you’ll be a brand new man soon, trust me. Man, look at all this food my mom made for Thanksgiving–it sure would be a shame to waste it. Remember how much you used to eat when we were kids, Isaac? Hell, even my brothers thought you were a pig behind your back. Why don’t you dig in, see what you can do?”

Isaac…was hungry, and Thanksgiving was the one day a year he considered a true cheat day, when he could officially eat as much as he wanted, no matter the consequence. He went over to one of the ovens, where the sides were being held warm, hauled out the mashed potatoes, grabbed a spoon and started eating, and eating, and eating. There was something wrong with him, something inside him, gurgling and grumbling about. Mark urged him on, compelling him to eat faster, to enjoy it. He’d always loved food after all, probably more than he’d ever really loved a person.

This carried on for an hour, until he heard the first sickening tear in his own flesh. It didn’t hurt, surprisingly, the massive gash in his flat abs, and there was no blood…just…more flesh underneath it. He panicked, but Mark drove him further, now that he was so close, stuffing him himself, opening the tear, hearing others forming all over his body until at last, the outer layer of Isaac gave way, breaking apart as a new Issac burst forth. A much, much larger Isaac than before.

His entire body was…new, like it had burst from a cocoon. It wasn’t that different really, he still felt, and looked, like himself…but he was so much fatter now. He had a sizable gut, much larger than he’d ever allowed himself during the offseason, sporting a physique more of a linebacker than a running back…but wasn’t that right? There were new memories overwhelming the others, years spent running defense rather than offense, years spent in more gluttony than before…loving food. Really loving it. The new Isaac dug into the meal with new fervor, and Mark knew the rest would take care of itself–once he saw Isaac use a gravy slathered hand to start massaging his cock and balls to stiffness.

It had taken a little longer than he’d hoped to deal with Issac, and he checked on John quickly, but while his older brother was exhausted, he hadn’t stopped for a second reveling in his new addictions, cementing them firmly in his mind where they belonged. Now, just his second older brother, Luke, and his uncle and father remained. Luke’s curse would be quick, at least. The middle child, Luke had been the real evil in the family. John might have been the brawn, but Luke was the brains, whispering ideas to him and Isaac, new ways to humiliate and hurt him. Well, now it was Mark’s turn to whisper a few commandments into his brother’s ear. He had control of them all, for the moment, of course, but this curse was more lasting. The commands he gave his brother would be unbreakable, no matter what.

Like some of the other polls I run, this one will have multiple winners! Luke will probably end up with a new job of some sort, as well as a few humiliating changes to his daily routines.

Finds a new job at a fast food joint
Finds a new job as a trash collector
Finds a new job as a full time sex slave
Starts wearing diapers
No longer showers or cuts his hair
Posts humiliating videos online
Gets trashy tattoos and piercings
Locks himself in full time chastity
Sucks redneck cock at rural rest areas

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only poll

Votes will be counted in a couple days!

Holiday Curses – Thanksgiving (Part 2)

The results of the polls were pretty clear on the winners, so I went ahead and wrote the next chunk early!

“Hey John, why don’t you come with me for a second, there’s something I’d like to show you,” Mark said.

“Faggot, what the fuck could you possibly want to show me? Your dick?” John said, not really realizing that his body was standing up from the couch and coming closer to his youngest brother.

“John, where you going? It’s the middle of the quarter!” His father said.

“None of you need to worry about it–you’ll get your turn soon enough. For now, dad, go turn off the appliances in the kitchen–I don’t think any of you will be getting your thanksgiving meal tonight. Then, all of you just keep watching your precious football, and don’t disturb me, or do anything stupid like try and get help. Just watch TV, and wait until it’s your turn.”

The unease on John’s face spread to the rest of them, as his dad got up and realized his wife had left without him even noticing, the dinner half cooked. When he came back, John and his faggot son Mark were gone, disappeared into the back rooms of the house, but he couldn’t do anything but sit down with the rest of the men and keep watching the game, none of them understanding what, exactly, was going on.

In the bedroom where Mark led John, however, he began to get an idea–there, on the bed, was some strange stuff–a gas mask, some dirty looking clothes, a massive cigar, and a…really, really large dildo (in reality, it wasn’t that large, but John lacked much context in this arena, and wasn’t particularly large himself). “You really are some fucking faggot! What the fuck is this shit?”

“You know John, all these years, you’ve taken such good care of yourself,” Mark said, “Lording it over everyone else. Well you know what? I happen to think that vices are healthy–and that it’s high time you pick up a few. Get undressed, sit down on the bed, and put that gas mask on.”

He struggled now, harder, but his body couldn’t resist the compulsion to take off all his clothes, sit down on the bed and pick up the mask, not noticing the chalk circle he crossed over, a circle that Mark sealed with a drop if his blood behind them both, as he followed him in, feeling the crackle of power around them. This was a curse of threes, and of vices–he’d already imbued the items with the power–now, all he had to do was use them–or make John use them, rather.

John pulled on the mask, and then Mark cinched it tight, ordering him to not remove it until the next morning came. Then, he took the dirty underwear and socks, and shoved them down the tube connected to the mask, and whispered the first incantation. Inside the mask, the stench overwhelmed him, and Mark could see his older brother’s eyes dilate with excitement. “Smell that bro? You don’t know what that jockstrap and those socks have been through, but you sure to do love it. Look at how hard that pecker of yours got already, and we still have two to go.”

The smell was rank, like the nastiest locker rooms of his youth, but Mark was right–it was like something in his mind had been rewritten, and now the stench of unwashed man musk was…thrilling. He huffed harder on the hose, while his brother cut the cigar, plugged the end of the tube, making it hard to breathe, and lit it, speaking the second incantation as he did. The smoke poured into the mask, and he had to inhale it–not that he minded after the incantation finished. In fact, he craved, feeling his head go light, and his stomach go queasy, but he…he needed the smoke.

He was horrified–he hated smokers, and he struggled on the bed, trying to fight Mark off, but a couple of words froze him in place, and Mark just laughed at him. “Now now, John, I can tell you’re loving this. Fuck, I remember when I came home smoking those cigarettes one year, and you flipped your shit! Now you’re going to be smoking so many cigars a day–you fucking hypocrite. How’s that smoke taste with that grungy funk in there? It’s probably fucking ambrosia to you right now–well just wait, things are only going to get better from here.” He shoved the end of the tube with the cigar in it into John’s hand. “Now be careful–you don’t want to lose your cigar, do you? Now get up on the bed, on your hands and knees, ass at the edge.”

His brother, shaking now, and careful to keep the cigar in the tube, got up and assumed the position as his brother ordered, eyeing the dildo on the bed beside him. Fuck that though–his brother needed a taste of the real thing first–raw. Mark dropped his pants, his cock rock hard, and pressed the head against his brother’s hole. “Think of this as a warm up–besides, I’ve been looking forward to popping your cherry, bro.”

John struggled, but there wasn’t anything he could do–he was locked in position as his little brother fucked him for a few minutes–but since he didn’t say the incantation…he didn’t want it. John felt his orgasm coming, and as he shot, he spoke the incantation, feeling is brother start to push back to his thrusts, and when he was finished cumming, he pulled out, and slammed the dildo into the hilt, his brother screaming in pain–and need. Mark stepped back, breaking the circle and unsealing the spell–and watched his brother reach around, grip the dildo, pull it out…and then plunge it back in of his own accord, over and over again.

The desires will fade somewhat, but the next hours, until dawn, were crucial. The more he stuck to his vices now, the harder they would stick after dawn, when the spell lost strength entirely. “Here bro, too keep you well supplied through the night,” Mark said, and set a pack of cigars on the nightstand, along with a cutter and lighter. “Oh, and if you need some variety…” he opened the drawer, and revealed a set of dildos, different sizes, some that vibrate, “that should keep you busy all night long, I think. Be good now, and do what you want to.”

With that, Mark left his brother in the room, and returned to the living room. “Alright Isaac,” he said to his cousin, “Your turn.”

The men on the couch could hear something happening to John in one of the bedrooms, but they hadn’t been able to do anything to get up and stop watching the game. Isaac tried to make a break for the door, when he found his body free, but he found himself following his cousin back into the bedrooms.

Isaac’s curse was a bit more…complicated. Called the curse of the imago, it was about freeing the inner impulses of the target from within, taking off the outer layers of the self, and revealing the true self with in. The results could be…freakish, but Isaac had figured out a solution for that already. Isaac had always been good about hiding himself behind a facade–but what sort of self is he hiding, that Mark wants to reveal?

Issac has always been a violent brute, though he doesn’t look like it.
He’s a lazy glutton, but none of what he eats shows on his waistline.
He’s a sex obsessed pig, with a clean cut appearance on the outside.
He’s a sycophant for Mark’s brothers, always enabling their abuse.

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only poll

Voting ends early next week!

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 6)

Geoff eventually pushed Chance’s maw away from his cock, looked down at his happy face, eyes glazed over slightly, icing all over his face from his snacks, and stood up, telling Chance to follow him. They went into the bathroom and Geoff told Chance to stand in front of the mirror and look at himself, and what he saw…it was enough of a shock to break through the pleasant numbness that his mind and settled into over the last hour or so. The collar was having a substantial effect on him already–his face and head had shifted quite a bit, which explained why sucking the badger’s cock had felt so…odd, and why his tongue had been able to reach so many different places, while he was sucking. Fur was filling in, his brunette hair running down onto his neck and upper back, while the hair he had on his chest had lightened to a golden tan, and was coming in thicker.

“I guess someone wants to be a police dog after all,” Geoff said, giving Chance a scritch between his ears, which were somewhere between human, and growing and shifting upward into proper dog ones, “Looks like you’re going to be a pure german shepherd–that make you happy pup? Thinking about chasing down bad guys? Well, not chasing really, because look at that gut you’re packing already–you’ll probably have to be on desk duty, if you keep binging like that.”

The badger was right–he had gained weight. A lot of weight. He had always been a bit chubby, but his gut was now quite a bit larger, and hanging down over his waist, making it impossible to see his cock–the cock, he realized, that was rock hard. It had been rock hard this whole time, in fact, and he reached under to feel it, and was surprised by how…wet it felt. He repositioned himself in the mirror and hefted up his gut to get a better look, and sure enough, it wasn’t a human cock anymore. A sheath had grown up over it, and was covered with the same golden hair as the rest of his front, and a slick red cock was jutting from it, drooling slightly in excitement.

“Looks like you got a bit excited, pup. Hey Dingo! Get your fat ass in here.”

There was a grunt, and then Dingo appeared in the doorway. “Yes sir?”

“Get down and show this pup what a good cocksucker you are–I bet you’d appreciate that, wouldn’t you? Getting a blowjob from your husband? Well, not really your husband, since he’s mine now, but if you’re good, I might let you two visit each other from time to time.”

The anger flashed in Chance’s mind again, pushing away to numbness the collar had been laying over his mind. When Dingo got down and started sucking, it threatened to overwhelm him again, but he pushed back–if he didn’t do something now, he wasn’t going to have the will to do anything about it soon enough.

“What’s wrong, pup? I think Dingo has a pretty good snout on him, but you look like you aren’t even enjoying yourself.”

It took everything in him that he could muster, but he shoved Dingo off of his cock, spun around, and delivered a swift kick right into the badger’s crotch. It caught him completely off guard, and he dropped to the floor, giving Chance a chance to dash out of the bathroom. He made it only a few yards before he heard–and felt–heavy foot falls behind him. Dingo was chasing him, barking his head off at him, slobber flying, and at his shorter stature and much heavier weight, Chance had no hope of outrunning him. Dingo tackled him to the floor in the hall, sending them both crashing to the ground, and the impact knocked the wind from Chance’s lungs.

Pinning him there, Dingo kept barking, calling to his master, while Chance tried to shout back at him, plead with him to remember, to escape with him, to get the damn collars off their neck while they still could, but it was clear that Dingo–if he was even listening–didn’t care one whit what Chance might have to say. After a few seconds, Geoff appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, growling, and Dingo stopped barking and started wagging his tail. “I got ‘em Master! I got ‘em for you!”

“Good boy, Dingo–now stay on him,” Geoff said, and got down beside Chance, who was still trying to worm his way out from under Dingo’s massive bulk, but having no success. “That was a very bad pup. I’ll have you know, that I consider that to be an automatic failure on your exam here–I’m afraid I can’t have a disobedient animal on the force with me–it just isn’t safe–for me, or the citizens of this fair city.”

“Fuck you!” Chance shouted at him, with as much will as he could muster, “I don’t give a fuck, I’ll fucking fight you as best I can, no matter what! Angus, you have to snap out of this, please, I know you’re still in there, you have to be.”

“Oh? Is there anything left of him in there, Dingo? Do you feel bad about what you’re doing to Chance here?” the badger asked Dingo, and the big lug’s ears fell back slightly, and he gave a little whine.

“A…A little? I want to be a good boy though, so I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Don’t worry Dingo, you’re being a very good boy–you’re doing everything exactly right.” Geoff said, and gave him a skritch behind his ears, watching his big dog’s tail wag, tongue lolling about in delight, “I figured there would be some–but once this little mutt under you is gone, there won’t be much left to hold him there in his mind anymore. Then you really will be mine–that’s what you want, right?”

“Yes sir! I love being your big stupid doggy!”

Chance gave a growl and redoubled his efforts to worm his way out from under Dingo’s massive frame, and managed to make a little progress, but before he could free himself, he felt the badger’s claws on the end of the collar around his neck. “Now, now, you need to stay put, little doggy,” the badger said, and he tugged the collar, tightening it another notch–and then another still.

Holiday Curses – Thanksgiving (Part 1)

This next interactive is going to stretch over Thanksgiving and into December I think. This first part is setup: our protagonist, Mark, is going to set some curses lose on some well deserving family members. After that, Mark is going to visit each of them around Christmas time, and give them some gifts to go along with their curses, and see how things are…progressing. Mark, if he unbalances the scales too much, might end up cursed himself. Hope you enjoy it!

Mark hated the holidays, or more accurately, he hated his family, and so, if he had to spend it with his family, then it was a holiday that he was going to hate. The cast was always the same, at least since all of his grandparents were dead (a small consolation if there ever was one): his father and mother, his two older brothers, his father’s brother and wife, and his older cousin. His family came from rural, farm stock, but both his father and uncle had gone off to college and gotten jobs in the city–however, they’d brought their old-time, family values from their grandfather along with them. This hadn’t been an issue, until Mark came along.

Mark had always been cut from a different sort of cloth, when he was a kid. Thin and an easy target from bullying from his brothers and nephew, and no one had done anything to shield him growing up, hoping he would just toughen up eventually. When Mark had figured out he was gay…well, he’d hated himself for quite a long time, and hid the secret from his family all the way through college, though there, at least, he’d found a community that had allowed him to deal with his shame, and he could finally be out–to a small, select group. HIs relationships floundered, he couldn’t figure out how to deal with his family, and still have the sort of relationship he wanted, and so, he’d go home each year, a bachelor, everyone suspecting why but no one saying anything…but this year was going to be different. So, very different.

See, Mark was in the best relationship of his life, with the sweetest fellow–a fellow who also happened to be a bit of a warlock. A fellow who had been able to tell that Mark himself had a touch of magic himself, and with a bit of practice, Mark wasn’t just learning magic, he was blossoming with it. For the first time in his life, he felt…powerful, like a gift had been given to him that he could use to rebalance the scales of his life–because with that balancing, he was finding, he could never be free. It was time for some karmic justice against the men of his family, and his lover had helped him design a few curses that would help bring the scales back into balance.

He had four curses planned, and all the supplies for them in the duffel hanging off his shoulder. One of them would be shared–suffered by both his uncle and his father–while the other three would be saved, one for each of the younger men who had bullied him so severely in his youth. He knocked on the door, and his aunt answered the door–after a short conversation, she realized that she needed to go home with her sister in law, right that moment, climbed in her car and waited. After a few minutes, when Mark found his mother in the kitchen cooking the Thanksgiving feast, he sent her out as well, and together, the two women drove off. Neither of them had been particularly cruel to him, and they didn’t deserve what was coming to the men left inside. In a night, neither of them would even recall having met their husbands, if everything ges according to plan. After that, he sent the three wives of his brothers and nephew on their way as well, suggesting they leave them, and settle down with other men, soon. None of the men inside found it odd that their wives had left–the five of them were all sitting in the main room, watching television, giving Mark plenty of time to set up the three rooms for his brothers and nephews–he would deal with them each in turn, and then turn his attention to his father and uncle, once they were finished.

It took about an hour, but finally it was ready–he’d deal with them in order of age, he thought, from his older brother, then his nephew, then his younger brother, especially since the curse he had planned for John, the oldest, took the most time. John considered his body to be a temple, one that he ruled, and he never allowed anything he thought to be impure to enter it–so he decided that his brother, in retribution, ought to pick up a few vices of his own. What sorts of addictions does Mark have in mind for his older brother?

What sorts of addictions does Mike have in mind for his oldest brother John? I’ll use the top two or three choices from the poll in the next chunk.

Piss
Chaw
Pain
Booze
Musk
Dildos
Porn
Cum
Cigars

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only bonus poll

Votes will be collected over the weekend sometime!

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 5)

“Now, as for you, pup, why don’t we start with the basics,” Geoff said, as he pulled another doughnut from the box, “Go ahead and sit for me.”

Chance hesitated, not wanting to give into the compulsions the collar was trying to drill into his mind, but he felt his butt try to hit the floor all the same.

“Now pup–remember what we talked about. If you don’t act like a good boy, and do everything I tell you to do, you aren’t going to qualify for the force tonight, and I’ll have to find someone else to take a stupid, worthless mutt like you instead. Now, are you going to sit like a good boy? Or do I need to go get the electric collar out of the car to help you out?”

Chance growled a bit, not even realizing that his teeth had turned slightly sharp, but went down on his ass.

“Good boy!” Geoff said, being extra patronizing, “Now eat up your whole treat–I like my pups big and fat.”

Chance tried to fight it again, but hearing that he’d been a good boy short circuited his brain for a moment. He swallowed down the whole doughnut, and licked the badger’s finger’s clean, before he was able to pull away, embarrassed at what he’d just done, and determined not to give in any further.

“Alright, now beg for me pup, tell me how much you want a treat from me.”

“Fuck you,” Chance said, “You’re fucking insane. You won’t get away with this.”

“You don’t think you’re my first recruits, do you?” the bader said with a laugh, “No, I’ve had these collars a very long time. My last partner finally got too fat to pass the fitness exam about six months ago, and spends his days stuffing himself with food, getting even fatter. Maybe you should go stay with him, if you don’t make it on the force? I bet he would like a little mutt of his own to play with–I don’t think he can even reach his doggy cock anymore. Is that what you want? You want to be some slave to my old, obese partner?”

Chance didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know whether the bader was even telling the truth…but what if he was? He certainly hadn’t been lying about anything else. Maybe…maybe being belligerent was the wrong way to get out of this…maybe he could just go along with it, just some of it…after all, it did feel so…good, being a good boy for master…

“Come on pup, beg for me. I want to hear you say what you want.”

“I…want to be your good boy sir,” Chance said, trying to keep the words back, but they just kept pouring out, “I want to be a fat pup, I wanna be on the force sir, a…a slutty, fat pup recruit for you…for you to abuse, and…” he finally managed to hush himself, but the badger was beaming with delight, and that just made it worse somehow.

“That’s a very good boy, now eat your treat,” The badger said, pushing another doughnut to Chance’ mouth, and he ate it, savored it, because he knew he’d earned it. “Tastes good doesn’t it? It tastes good being a good boy, right?”

Chance nodded. It did, and he could feel the doughnut sliding down his throat and settling in his stomach, and as it did, he felt a bit heavier–or was it just his imagination?

“I want to hear you say it.”

Chance looked from the badger, over to Dingo–over to Angus–and then back again. He could feel the collar around his neck, and it felt so tight, and heavy, and he…he didn’t want to make them mad anymore, it felt so wonderful, being a good boy, and isn’t that what he wanted to be, really? “I…I like being a good boy…”

“Whose good boy?”

“Y-Yours…sir,” he tacked on at the end. It seemed to be what the badger was looking for, and his he showed all of his sharp teeth with his next grin.

“And do you want more treats, mutt? Do you want to stuff yourself silly until you’re just another stupid, fat mutt on the force, doing everything I tell you to do, like a dumb, obedient animal?”

The badger pressed another doughnut to Chance’s lips, and he didn’t fight it this time, or at least, he tried to fight it, but it was so hard, and he could almost feel the collar tightening around his neck, threatening to click another notch and reduce him even further. He opened his mouth and ate it, there was another burst of pleasure, and he…he lost himself, for a while. The badger would issue orders, order him to do tricks, and while each one was more humiliating than the last, he found himself not caring at all. He was doing what Master said, after all. He was being a good boy. Finally, he found himself eating doughnuts off the badger’s cock, and then sucking on it, licking up all of the icing he could find, while Dingo, sitting a ways off, had his uniform pants down around his ankles and was masturbating slowly, watching Master do to his husband everything he had done to him the night before–and while he knew, deep down, it should horrify him, so much of Angus was just…gone. Master, and his collar had seen to that after all, sanding away the edges of his mind until there was nothing left beyond what Master allowed, rattling around in a mostly empty skull.

Halloween Dreams (Part 3) [Suggested Story] | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Parts three and four of my special Halloween story for Patrons, based on some of their suggestions, are posted! If you missed them, you can find part three at the link above, and part four here. Also, the new suggestion box for November is live! You can put your own suggestions in here, if there’s something you’d like to see me cover. This is the only way that I take suggestions for stories, besides commissions! One dollar gets you access to the box, and to the resulting stories, each month.

Halloween Dreams (Part 3) [Suggested Story] | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 4)

Above him, Dingo was panting harder, as his pace increased, and Geoff focused on getting Chance out of his clothes, using the knife on his belt to make the process much simpler. After all, this pup wasn’t going to have any need for this sort of office attire, and they were all going to be too big for him anyway, at this point. He was still a bit annoyed that he’d pulled the collar tight when he’d put it on, but as he watched Chance going to town on the much larger Dingo’s cock, he found it pretty sexy, actually. By the end of it, he might even shrink him a little further.

Now that Chance was naked, Geoff squatted down, and he could see that Chance’ cock had already taken to the change–his human member was gone, and in its place was a throbbing red rocket, similar to Dingo’s, but not quite as large. Geoff got down close and started stoking it, listening to Chance whimper a bit as Dingo rammed his cock down his husband’s throat. “Feel that, pup? Feel’s good, doesn’t it? Much better than that old, ugly ass human cock ever did. I don’t even know why we put up with keeping your kind around–still, there will be one less of you soon enough.”

He saw a flash of anger in Chance’ eye as he said that, and Geoff smirked. There was quite a bit of fire in this one for sure. He was going to have to break him out of that one way or another–but most pups like this could respond well to some good old fashioned humiliation. Once they really understood who was in charge here, and just how low Geoff could make them sink, they settled down in the end. “Alright Dingo, that’s enough. I think it’s time we start putting this pup through some paces, see if he’s even worth training or not. Go get the treats out of the car, partner.”

Dingo wasn’t happy about having to quit fucking Chance’ face, especially as close as he was to shooting, but an order from Master was always more important. He redid him fly and headed for the door, leaving Chance gasping for breath, and Geoff next to him, patting him on the head. “You…you can’t get away with this, too many people are going to miss us.”

“Oh pup, trust me, this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this. But you’d be surprised what people will believe. The two of you selling your house suddenly, moving off to Hawaii for a fresh start–it isn’t that far-fetched you know. Besides, these collars have a way of…smoothing things out, over time. In a few months, no one will even remember the two of you existed.”

“That’s…that’s not possible, none of this shit is possible!” Chance said.

“Now now, keep that anger in check–after all, only the best pups get to end up on the police force, remember. Dingo was a prime candidate, but you…well, let’s just say that I don’t know if you can make the cut. A bit too…short, for one thing. If you want to end up with your husband, instead of dropped off in the drunk tank tonight as a lowlife, criminal mongrel, then you should do your best to be a good boy–besides, doesn’t being a good boy feel so much better, than being a bad one?”

The burst of pleasure was stronger now, and seemed to connect right to his new cock. Chance tried to fight it as best as he could, but he was beginning to wonder if there was a way out of this at all. Angus seemed…so far gone. The way he’d fucked his face…it hadn’t even felt like his husband doing it, just a stranger using him. Maybe…if he could just get the collar off of him, somehow, he would remember what was going on. Chance didn’t know if there was a way to reverse what the collars were doing to them, but that seemed to be the first step, if they were going to get out of this without the badger warping them into his own little slaves.

He heard the front door open up again, and Dingo came tromping through with three boxes of doughnuts in his arms–and one doughnut stuffed in his maw. Geoff saw that Dingo hadn’t been able to resist dipping into the treats they had brought over for Chance’ training, and he got up, “Dingo! Bad boy, those aren’t treats for you, and you know that.”

Dingo whimpered, his ears lowering, and he put the half eaten doughnut back in the top box. “Sorry Master, I was just…hungry, and I know I did a good job, and so I thought–”

“You dumb mutt, we covered this yesterday–who does the thinking around here? You, the dumb dog? Or me, the smart badger.”

“You do the thinking sir, sorry…”

“Leave him alone,” Chance said, at them both, “Stop…stop treating him like he’s some stupid brute, that you get to play with. He’s a fucking person!”

Geoff laughed, “Listen to that pup, Dingo–he thinks you’re a person. Is that what you are?”

“No sir, I’m just a dumb doggy,” Dingo said, tail wagging, reciting what Master had told him about himself the day before, “A real mean one on the streets, but I’m just your fat bitch in the sheets sir, I’ll let you do anything you want to me, and I’ll thank you for it after.”

“That’s a good boy–you can finish that treat–but no more unless I say so.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dingo said, the doughnut muffling the second half of his reply, as he shoved it into his snout.