Where do you think kinks originate from? So for example: person a likes rope and bondage. Where do you think that desire came from?

I think this is a bad question, because it has some unhealthy assumptions about human development. I think the way people develop is incredibly complex, and I doubt there’s a neat explanation for any topic regarding human sexuality, or human behavior in general, even if we like to think there should be a simple “origin” to something like kink.

I mean, there’s a bit of a chicken and egg problem, right? Do we pursue the kink because we are initially interested in it, or does the interest begin to bloom through experience and exposure to the kink itself? Let me put it another way–is it possible to really imagine someone who is “into” bondage prior to any knowledge or experience of bondage? Don’t we need the word/category before we can begin desiring it?

My larger question is this: are we somehow developmentally hardwired, either by nature or nurture, to desire certain things, sexual or no? I mean, there is, of course, some fundamental sexual desire which is fundamentally natural, but the point at which is blurs with development and choice becomes very, very murky. 

Honestly? I don’t think kinks are part of who we are at all. I enjoy piss, and rimming, and pits, and all of these other things, but I don’t enjoy them because they originated in me somehow–I enjoy them because my experiences with the acts have all, by and large, been pleasurable. I do my best to take full responsibility for the things I enjoy–I don’t feel alienated from them, like they are some force within me that I can’t control. 

Your kinks are yours. Own them. You made them. It isn’t something you should feel ashamed of, and alienating yourself from your own desires will just make you feel awful for pursuing them. 

How much shit is safe to eat?

As far as sex goes, I don’t really think the question of safe/unsafe is really that helpful to ask. The better frame, I think, is risk.

All sex carries risk–hell, most every action we take in the world carries risk of one sort or the other. Scat is risky sex–risk of illness in particular–and it isn’t a question of *amount*, if anything it’s a question of who your partner’s are, what their current health situation is, and other possible risk/health factors like that. 

The only person who can determine how much risk you want to take on, and whether the complimentary reward/pleasure is great enough to carry it. I can’t make that judgement for you, and safety is bullshit anyway. What we mean when we talk about safety is lack of consequence, but the risk doesn’t go away.

The best advice I can give you is to be informed, talk about potential health risks with your partner(s), know that the risk is there, and own whatever decision you make.  

Idolized (Part 4)

He’d forgotten that the sun shone too.

How long had he been in that tent, with Darr’Rak? No–with Darren–his name was Darren! He couldn’t remember exactly–two days? Three? The sun was setting now, behind the mountain rage to the northwest, and staring at the glow, he found himself thinking of the light of Kal’Ragek. The voice was in him, distant but there, telling him that if he returned now, there would be no punishment, that Kal’Ragek could forgive a minor crisis of faith. Instead, Toby ran further away from Darren’s tent, away from that cursed idol, until he couldn’t hear the voice anymore, until he could be sure that what he was hearing was him, and him alone.

The last few days felt like a dream to him, an intense, incredibly pleasurable dream, and one he still longed to return to, even though he knew it was wrong. He and Darren had fucked constantly that first evening and night, he could remember that, paying tribute to their new lord, filling one another with their seed, using it to polish their idol to an even more intense shine. Then, Darren left, and he returned with a third young man, and together…together they brought him into the fold as well, then a fourth had joined soon after. The night before, they had been forced to move to a larger space, and they commandeered a supply tent that was barely used. There, around dawn, Darren had become…Darr’Rak. It was an image seared into his brain, the sight of their god giving the First the true gift, removing the last of his humanity, marking him as the chieftain of their reborn tribe. The sight of him, the smell of him…it was intoxicating. Toby had crawled over, shoving his face into Darr’Rak’s reeking pits, tasting the hair there, along with the others–they had served him for hours in the light of their lord, Toby was priviliged to be the first to fuck himself on the chief’s foot long cock. Looking up at him, he realized that this is what he would become as well, soon enough, but he wouldn’t allow that to happen to him. He refused to give in and become…whatever it was Darren was now. While the rest of the tribe had returned to worship, and while Kal’Ragek’s eyes were away from him, he’d found some clothes stashed in a crate, thrown them on, and slipped away–but now what?

He looked down at himself, at his mostly green arms and feet, his hulking frame, the thick hands, the hair covering his arms, chest and shoulders…he was a monster. A beast. A servant of his lord in his image. He shook his head, but the voice was still there–perhaps it would never be gone. This had to end, in any case–Darr’Rak had to be stopped before things could spread any further…but how?

He could hear men at the mess tent eating dinner, but he froze. If they saw him, what would they think? Away from the tribe, without the voice of his lord…he felt so empty. He hadn’t realized how hard it had become to think, since Darren had infected him, but his mind couldn’t formulate any ideas–there were just emotions and simple urges, and any attempt to build past that, towards a plan, felt impossible. He needed someone smart, and someone he could trust. Someone who would know him, hopefully. He had to get to Professor Jeral, but he had to get him alone first.

He waited until night fell, and then found his way to the professor’s tent, avoiding being seen by anyone else in the meantime. The longer he was away from the tribe, the clearer his head became, which was a relief. He’d nearly…lost himself, or allowed Kal’Ragek to devour him, which is what it had felt like was happening. It was like everything about him was being sucked away, and replaced by some monster, and he’d…wanted it. Still, how would his teacher react to the sight of him? He hesitated outside for a few minutes, but he had no choice. The tribe must have realized he’d gone missing by now–if he didn’t alert everyone soon…well, he knew what Kal’Ragek wanted. It wanted its tribe back, and wanted every man it could find to join it.

“P-Professor?” His voice was so deep, it barely even sounded like him.

No one responded immediately, and he wondered if, perhaps, he wasn’t in the tent and had gone to the bathroom, but after a moment there was a low moan–a sound both of terror and arousal he was intimately familiar with. His heart froze, and Toby smelled it wafting out from within the tent, the heady musk. He needed to run, but his head was growing thick again and his cock was hardening, and when Darr’Rak’s hand reached out from the tent and grabbed him by the upper arm, he allowed the huge beast to pull him inside as well.

The professor was there, naked, soaked in sweat, eyes glazed over. He was a sizable man and still in good shape from his excursions around the world to various dig sites, but beside Darr’Rak he looked puny, almost childlike. The professor pushed his way under the chief’s arm, fighting to get closer to the chief’s sweaty pits. Darr’Rak sat down heavily on the cot, the metal frame groaning under his size, but it only bent slightly.

“I…thought you might come here, when I saw you gone,” Darr’Rak said. His voice was deep and gutteral, the words twisted by the two tusks which had pushed their way from his bottom jaw and over his upper lips. “Very bad, leaving–Kal’Ragek is very angry. The lord wonders if I chose wrong, in you.”

Their lord’s name…it was the first time Toby had heard it said properly. If fell from the chief’s mouth so naturally, the way his thick tongue could press against his tusks, the sharp click of teeth at the end of the name. He tried to keep his head clear, tried to keep what little clarity had returned to him in his hours away from the tribe, but the musk, the sound of his Lord’s name–he’d been wrong, wrong to try and run. What had he been thinking? He pushed forward, eager to smell his chief’s musk, eager to worship him like the older professor was, but when he tried, Darr’Rak tugged down hard on his arm, forcing Toby onto his knees.

“Kal’Ragek understands fear,” the chief said, looking down at Toby, “But fear is for enemies of his tribe–a true disciple has no fear.” He paused, and looked over Toby below him, pleased by how far he had come very far in the last few days, since joining him in the tribe. He was close now, to accepting Kal’Ragek, to being truly named, as he now was. “Are you an enemy of the tribe?”

Idolized (Part 3)

Toby resisted for a moment, but when Darren put a green hand on his shoulder and applied a bit of pressure, his knees buckled and he knelt down, inching up to the idol in front of him. It…really was beautiful, now that he was closer. He tried to focus on looking at the material, but found his eyes taking in the figure itself–the massive musculature, the thick cock hanging between the wide thighs, gut and hair and beastly face. It seemed…terrifying, the closer he got, but he couldn’t pull himself away from it. If he left, then it would be angry with him, and he didn’t want it to be angry. He bowed down, prostrating himself in front of the idol, and when he looked up at the statue now, it seemed…happier. Was it…glowing? Even in the daylight, it seemed to have its own green aura surrounding it.

“I…Darren, what did you find?”

“I found God, Toby, and I’m going to help you find him too.”

“No–I don’t…we need to quarantine this, or…contain it. I should–”

Before he could continue, Darren planted one sizable foot on Toby’s back and shoved hard, forcing Toby to bow deeper, Darren pressing down and holding him there. Toby tried to look up, but all he could see was the idol over him, that glow. It was so beautiful–glorious, really. He could…hear something, or someone, in his mind–just a whisper, but if he was good, if he was obedient, he’d be able to hear it better. He listened, hard, and followed the ritual, and soon, Darren didn’t need to hold him down at all, and he watched Toby worship their new god for a moment, before tugging at his clothes.

“Kal’Ragek wants to see you as you are.”

Toby struggled, but whether he was trying to help get the clothes off or resist him, it didn’t matter much to Darren, who simply ripped them apart at the seams. When had he gotten so strong? He didn’t seem that much larger, and yet…had he just forgotten what he’d looked like before all of this? He flexed his thighs, and watched the ight pants he was wearing split at the seams as well. In a flurry, he tore at them, feeling better once they were both naked, as they should be, before god. What had he been thinking about again? He’d noticed that his mind had grown a bit muddled, lately. Kal’Ragek was all that mattered, and so everything else was simply draining away. Still, his god desired a new kind of worship, and Darren desired it too–he got down behind the now naked Toby, spread his ass cheeks apart with both hands, pushed his face in and probed his ass with his tongue, giving a deep, guttural moan as he did.

“D-Darren. I…stop…” Toby muttered, but in all honesty, he didn’t want Darren to stop, and the voice in his head didn’t want him to stop either. Instead, he found himself pressing his head to the ground and raising his ass into the air, giving Darren a better angle to work from. His tongue slid into his hole, probing deep, and Toby groaned louder, his cock hard as a rock. Neither of them had ever had sex with a man before, or ever considered it…but this didn’t feel like sex. This was worship. This was for Kal’Ragek.

Darren pulled away, a string of drool connecting his chops to Toby’s crack for a moment, and he licked his lips. “Are you prepared to accept the blessing of Kal’Ragek? Are you prepared to join me in his eternal tribe? To be remade in his image?”

Toby nodded, eyes wide and unfocused, consumed by the light before him. Darren drooled down onto his cock, his much longer and thicker cock, and then pressed the head to Toby’s hole, sliding it inside. He was excited, and Toby nearly screamed from the size of the invasion–Darren reached down and clamped a hand over Toby’s mouth to keep him quiet. After a moment, the pain had disappeared, replaced by deep grunts and moans. The idol was glowing more powerfully now, filling his entire frame of vision. He reached out with one hand and touched it, surprised to find the stone cool to the touch, but a power passed into him as Darren slammed in deep, filling his ass with a massive load of cum from his balls.

“All praise Kal’Ragek.”

“All praise our lord.”

Toby saw that the hand he’d used to touch the idol had turned green, the nails black and much thicker than they had been before. The muscles had grown as well–he looked at his two arms together–one human, and the other…not–and the forearm of the second was nearly twice as large. Short hairs were pushing their way out of his skin, he could feel them, the same bristly fur coating most of Darren’s body now. The green reached up to his elbow and stopped there, but it would spread further, he could…feel it. “Darren…Darren, we…we need to tell someone.”

“They’ll all know, in time, but first…first, more.” Over his shoulder, Toby saw that the Darren’s changes had progressed as well. The green skin covered nearly three quarters of his body now, including most of his face. One eye was human, and the other was a deep yellow, and it looked like his…bones were shifting. “Me now–I praise the lord, and you fuck.”

He pushed Toby to the side, and he knelt down and presented his ass. Toby knew he should run, he should at least tell someone what was happening, but the voice…it was louder now. Instead, he got behind Darren and began licking his green hole, smelling him, savoring him, and he could feel how happy their lord was, at their worship. He required more, still, but the two of them would suffice for now. Toby hesitated, with his cock at the entrance to Darren’s ass, wondering if there was still a chance he might save himself.

“Fuck me, fuck me!” Darren grunted, pushing back so the head of Toby’s cock popped into him, and his thought of escape slipped away. This was the escape he craved, anyway–Kal’Ragek would free them from this tiresome world, and give them a new one. A better one. A twelfth tribe–one that would last longer than all the rest.

Idolized (Part 2)

“Jesus, what the fuck is happening to you?” Toby said, looking at the skin of Darren’s chest and arm. “Is…is this, contagious? What even is this? I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

It had been a few days since Darren had dragged the idol back to camp, since he’d first worshiped at the altar of Kal’Ragek. That was the closest he could come to pronouncing it, the name in his head–the consonants didn’t quite fit right in his mouth, and saying it made his tongue itch and burn like someone had struck a match and laid it across the surface. The next day, he’d left the idol at camp, and gone back to the excavation, but he hadn’t been able to focus at all, and he felt physically ill. He barely managed to make the trek back to camp that evening, and he told everyone that he was just feeling exhausted and a bit sick. He’d need a few days of rest, he thought, and he’d be back to normal, or perhaps, better than normal. He’d confined himself to his tent, and everyone had largely forgotten about him–they had made a great discovery back at the site–a third dwelling–and everyone was busy working around it, cataloging finds, and so Darren managed to catch a few days without being disturbed–just him, the idol, some food snuck from the mess, and the god slowly revealing himself to Darren’s mind.

The changes had only continued, and while Darren was concerned, his god assured him that this was the way things ought to be–that in order to serve him and worship him properly, Darren would need to become…something else. He had laid awake for hours on end, sweating and shaking with fever, scratching at his skin, feeling the patch of green spread further and further over his body. Now, it was nearly impossible to hide. His entire right arm was covered with the new skin, as was most of his chest, stomach, and back. Even his cock had turned color, grown an extra four inches of length, with a thick foreskin extending over the previously circumcised head. The cum from his balls had turned sour and yellow, but delicious–he found himself compelled to eat every load he shot during his periods of worship–gifts from his god–but what they might be doing to his insides, he was too terrified to try and imagine it, but from the cramps and muscle aches, it was clear that the transformation was more than superficial. He was getting bigger, for one thing–both taller and more muscular, with patches of dark hair sprouting on his green skin. His hair and beard had grown out as well. The hair he could at least keep knotted behind him, where it fell past his shoulders, but his beard was wild and tangled, nearly an inch long and impossible to tame.  

Toby was staring at him, disgusted by him, but Darren steeled himself, and refused to be humiliated, standing straight and tall, looming over him. He’d hidden for long enough, now. It had become clear to him that hiding in his tent and hoarding Kal’Ragek to himself–it wasn’t right. His god, it was pleased to be worshiped again, and very pleased with Darren’s devotion, but it had been…a very long time since the last tribe had dispersed, since Kal’Ragek had been forgotten, and he was starved for praise and devotion. Toby and Darren had been close, as close as two academic rivals could be, he supposed. They had been the two students selected to go on this dig by their mutual professor, Dr. Edwin Jeral. He had seen Toby crossing camp, and called out to him, knowing Toby would want to drag him away from his god, but that was only because he didn’t yet understand. Everyone had forgotten the tribe, like each time before, but they could learn again. They would learn, and Darren would teach them with the light of Kal’Ragek.

“I’m not sick,” Darren said to Toby. He’d put on a pair of tight fitting pants, knowing that if he’d been completely naked his friend would have likely bolted, but the feel of the fabric against his skin felt…wrong. Leather or hide or nothing at all would be better, but this would have to do. He had to be careful when moving not too flex too much–he’d ripped apart nearly all of his other clothes by accident, as he’d grown. “I know how this looks, but I feel great. I…I just wanted to show you something, I want your opinion on it.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Darren? We need to get you to a hospital! Your…skin, I mean, and…how could you not tell any of us about this? It looks like gangrene or something.”

“It’s not something I can explain, it’s something I need you to see, or taste, or smell…” Darren said, and pulled the oil cloth from over the idol. He had constructed a rudimentary altar–it was wrong for Kal’Ragek to rest on the ground–and the hours he had spent polishing the smooth green stone with his own spit showed–the green was luminescent, and nearly shown of its own accord in the dim daylight filtering in through the flaps of the tent.

“Is…Is that from the dig? Did you fucking smuggle that thing down here? Are you insane?” Toby said, and stepped closer, “What…even is it? I’ve never seen stone like that before. Is it jade?”

“I don’t know–you were always better at stone materials than me. That’s why I wanted you to look at it, Toby. Go on, look close, kneel down in front of it, and tell me what you think.”

Idolized (Part 1)

Five miles in, and five miles out, every day. The history was worth it, of course, but that didn’t exactly make it easier for Darren. After all, as a PhD candidate in cultural anthropology, he spent most of his time with his nose stuck in a book, or looking at centuries old artifacts in secure laboratories and museums–five mile hikes were not part of his usual activities. He wasn’t exactly out of shape–but at five foot seven and skinny as a rail, he had a hard time keeping up with some of the more sizable men working on the excavation. It was the hike back that was always the hardest. After ten hours focused on meter by meter sized squares of dirt: digging, brushing, cataloging, and measuring–all under the hot sun–hiking back at dusk to base camp was a trial, when all he and everyone else wanted was a meal, and to collapse for another night.

But field work was where you made a name for yourself. You could spend a career analyzing the discoveries of other researchers, sure, but if you wanted to be on the cover of magazines, you needed to be out there, and this dig…nothing had ever really been found quite like it, ever before. A dwelling had been revealed by a muddy rockslide, and spotted by some shepherds, miles from the nearest city…and no one knew what culture it belonged to, and as they’d been digging, things had only made less and less sense. But Darren…he’d found something today, something he was somehow certain was a key to all of this mystery. An idol, carved from some stone–he’d thought it was jade at first, but a far deeper green than he’d ever seen before. He’d touched it, and he’d…felt something, a power inside of it, a logic…but more than anything else, he’d felt…possessive. He’d found it, so it was his, right?

In fact, it belonged to countless other governments and bureaucracies…but before anyone else spotted him, he took the idol, surprised by how heavy it was, wrapped it in some oilcloth and shoved it into his bag. Now, hiking back, feeling the heavy stone knock against his pelvis with each step, he wondered what in the hell he thought he was doing. Not only was this completely unethical, it was criminal! If anyone caught him with this thing, he’d be thrown in prison–and not a relatively nice American prison. The prisons here–well, his advisor travelling with him and another student on the excavation had warned them both, and he knew better, but he’d done it anyway. Still, when he’d felt it…he’d been so sure, somehow. He’d just have to take it back with him the next day, and pretend he’d found it in another square.

The crew arrived back at the base camp, where they all ditched their packs by their tents and then went to the mess hall to eat–everyone except Darren, who pulled his pack into his tent with him, dug around inside and hauled out the wrapped idol. He needed to see it again. He needed to touch it, to know that what he’d…felt earlier hadn’t been some strange folly of his own imagination. He unrolled the cloth, and there it was–he turned on his flashlight in the dusk light and examined the statue a bit closer.

It was obviously masculine in appearance, though done in slight caricature–that is, unless people in this society regularly had penises that hung to their knees. The figure was corded with muscle, and a bit squat–arms a bit longer than normal, but not quite ape like either. The surface of the stone was smooth, but the pattern of the green material almost gave an impression of hair all over the surface of the idol’s body. It was the face that fascinated him the most–rough, beastial, with short tusks emerging from the mouth, surrounded by a thick beard hanging to the idol’s belly. It had to be a god of some sort, and yet it was no god he was familiar with, especially not in this region of the world.

He stood the idol upright on the ground by his cot–it didn’t seem right to leave it lying down on it’s side. Touching it again…it felt good. Cool against his sweaty hand, but with some kind of deeper warmth. It was difficult for him to recall what, exactly, happened next. The idol needed him, it needed his praise and his worship, and in return, there was a promise–but what that promise was, he couldn’t tell. It came to him in feelings and scents, more than words and images, but he found himself prostrated in front of idol, watching it glow with a soft light, the light spreading to him as well, infusing him, and as terrified as he was, his cock was so hard it was nearly ready to burst without him so much as touching it.

Half an hour later, the idol was stashed back in the oil cloth and tucked under his cot bundled with some spare clothing. He’d had to change clothes, because he’d shot a massive load of cum right into the front of his pants, the largest load he’d ever seen, and his cock and balls were still throbbing. He went to the mess hall and piled his plate high with food, more food than he ever would have eaten normally, and stuffed himself, trying to forget what had happened–what he’d allowed to happen, and what he…knew he would let happen again. He did his best to pay no mind to the extra inch his cock had grown, or that…strange patch of green skin that had appeared on his torso, stretching from under his chest around his side and to his back, or to the fact that his clothes didn’t seem to fit quite right, suddenly. When he got back to the tent and prostrated himself before the idol to worship again, he was surprised by the sound of cloth tearing, as a burst of growth across his back and shoulder muscle tore the yoke of his shirt apart. He tugged it away from him, hand shaking, and chucked the tattered shirt towards the wall of the tent. It would all be alright, he told himself, worship the idol, and everything would be as it should be, once again.