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.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 3)

Chance tried to shove the badger away, but the dingo shifted his paws and grabbed Chance by the wrists, allowing Geoff the chance to throw the collar around Chance’ neck, slip it through the buckle and pull it tight. However, Chance pulled away from him while he was about to latch it, and the collar pulled too tight; the buckle cinching his neck uncomfortably for a moment, until it seemed to relax…though everything felt so…strange all of a sudden. Dingo let him go, assuming he would be under control now that the collar was on him, and Chance stumbled slightly, the room a bit…off kilter.

“Now look at what you went and made me do, pup–got the collar on too tight. Oh well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose. Now, are you going to be a good boy for me and officer Dingo here?”

At the words good boy, Chance moaned slightly, and felt his cock tent in the front of his slacks. “I…What the fuck is this thing?” He said, his hands going for the collar, but Geoff grabbed them before they could start testing the latch.

“Now now, good boys leave their collar right where it belongs, don’t they?”

Chance moaned again, and found himself nodding along. It…did feel good, to be a good boy, and if he wanted to be a good boy, the collar needed to stay on…didn’t it? He knew the logic didn’t make any sense, that he should be fighting this, but he nodded anyway. He was going to have to play along with this, if he wanted to get out of this mess–that, and he was going to have to try and get Angus to come to his senses, if he wasn’t already too far gone. He looked at the badger in front of him, and was a bit…confused. Before, he’d been taller than him by quite a few inches, but now, he was…taller? He looked around, over at Angus near them, and found he had to crane his neck up quite a bit to see him. “Did…did you get taller?”

“Nope, you got shorter,” Geoff said, “These collars of mine have quite a few tricks–but it only goes one way. Dingo there–he could get bigger, if I want, but you, since it tightened once, you can only get smaller now. Still, that’s not a bad thing, is it? I don’t think so–the two of you will be kind of cute together on the force, big Dingo and little…well, we don’t have a name for you yet, do we?”

The Badger stroked the side of Chance’ face with one of his claws, and he flinched away–though he felt and doing so, because he knew it would make the badger–Master, his head wanted to call him–mad, but Geoff just laughed. “Yeah, you have some fire in you–more than your sorry husband had–he rolled over for me right away, that one, was begging me for more not two days later. How about…Demon? I think that will be a good name for a fiery guy like you. I can already tell you’re going to be a bad boy. That’s ok–breaking bad pups is more fun anyway. Now, be a good boy, get down on your knees, and suck Dingo’s cock–why don’t you see what your husband has been hiding from you all week? He’s eager to show you now, trust me.”

The badger pressed down on Chance’ shoulders, forcing him to his knees, and Dingo–Angus, Chance had to keep telling himself, reminding himself that his husband was trapped somewhere in that fat dog’s body– bellied up to him, his paws already clawing open the fly of his uniform pants, while his tongue lolled out of his maw, drooling with excitement. Angus had been weird, ever since that traffic stop, and Chance realized that not once had he seen his husband completely naked–something which he would have noticed, if he hadn’t been busy. Now, the cock he was looking at was nothing like Angus’s cock had been, the angry red color, slick from the sheath it had emerged from. He shut his lips tight, fighting against the collar and the badger’s commands as hard as he could, determined not to give into this.

“Now pup, come on, open up,” the badger said, gripping Chance’ jaw in his hand, and squeezing the sides of his mouth until he had to open them. Dingo took advantage of the opening, and forced his cock into Chance’ mouth–it tasted…foul to him, but Dingo and Geoff weren’t about to let Chance off now that he’d opened up. Dingo wrapped both paws around the back of Chance’ head and started fucking him deeper, while the badger got down close, whispering into Chance ear how good it felt to be a good boy, how nice his partner’s cock tasted, how horny he was, being a good, cocksucking pup. As hard as Chance tried to resist it, the words were worming their way into his mind all the same, lulling him, and he fought a bit less, his hands finding their way around Dingo’s thick thighs, pulling the big mutt into him–just a little at first, but then more. He…he wanted his cock. He loved sucking cock, after all. He was…he was a good boy…yeah, a real good boy…

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Parts 1 & 2)

Chance had been trying not to panic. Angus had told him he was getting drinks with a friend and that he might be out late, which was usually code for Angus hooking up with someone. It didn’t bother Chance necessarily, though he always liked to know where he was going and who he was meeting. He’d asked for details, and Chance had sent him the name of a bar he didn’t know well…but none of that was really cause to worry. He made dinner, but Angus didn’t show, so he ate by himself and put the rest in the fridge for him when he got home. The evening wore on into night, and Chance found himself checking his phone every few minutes, resisting the urge to text him, and when he finally did…he got no response. Not even a read notification from him. Still, he’d have to check it at some point, right?

Chance had gotten ready for bed and laid down, but couldn’t stop checking his phone, and certainly couldn’t get to sleep not knowing what was going on. He ended up going downstairs for a snack and to watch some TV. It was after midnight when he finally dozed off, and his alarm went off for work at six the next morning…and Angus still wasn’t home, and he still hadn’t received any word back from him.

There had to be a rational explanation right? This…wasn’t normal behavior, but Angus had been behaving a bit…oddly for the last few days, ever since that embarrassing stop by that cop. Chance had…an inkling of what might have happened between his husband and the cop that night, while they’d spent a few minutes back behind the car, but he hadn’t really wanted to believe it had actually happened. Was there something else going on entirely, that Chance didn’t know about? Angus had, on rare occasion, slept over with someone he hooked up with. Most likely he had gotten too drunk to drive, and maybe too drunk to remember to text him, and he’d ended up sleeping over on accident. Still, even if the explanation was reasonable, it didn’t do much to settle the anxiety brewing in his gut.

He got ready for work, expecting and hoping that Angus would burst in and everything would be fine. Chance would be…angry, sure, but mostly, he just wanted to know that he was safe. He never appeared, and Chance left him a note, and then went to work. He couldn’t focus though. He kept checking his phone, kept trying to call and message, but now…now his texts and calls didn’t even seem to be getting through, like Angus’s phone was in airplane mode, or dead. He ended up taking a break and calling the office here Angus worked–but no one there had seen or heard from him either–which was very unlike him. Chance told his manager he needed to leave to take care of an emergency–which he was very much hoping it wasn’t, went home, but Angus still wasn’t there…and so, he called the police.

The operator he spoke to was very empathetic, but told him that the police didn’t open a missing persons investigation until someone had been missing for 48 hours. In the meantime, she told Chance to call the last place he knew he’d been–and gently suggested calling local hospitals, and asking about any recent admissions without ID. Chance couldn’t even begin to think about what that might mean, and so he found the number for the bar Angus had texted him and called them, wondering if they had seen him. To his surprise, no one remembered him, or anyone like him, visiting. He had them check for a purchase with their shared cards, but there was no record of any transaction. Had Angus lied to him? If he had…then why?

He put off calling hospitals for a few more hours, but did eventually, mostly because the anxiety of not knowing was worse than the most dire possibility. He didn’t know whether he should be happy or not, when none of the hospitals in the city turned up any record of Angus being admitted, or of any John Doe’s matching his description. It was like he had just…vanished. Had he left? Why would he leave? Why would he want to leave and make Chance this miserable? None of it made any sense, but there was nothing else that he could do, aside from wait.

The knock on his door surprised him, but he rushed for it anyway. Any news was good news at this point, at least he would know. He flung open the door, but it wasn’t Angus, even though that wouldn’t have made any sense. Instead, he found himself looking at two police officers in uniform. In front was a short, stocky badger, smiling at him, and behind him was a nearly seven foot tall, massive, dog. He too as smiling, but he didn’t seem…nearly as nice as the shorter badger–if anything, it was…menacing. “Hello, we’re here about a possible missing person,” the badger said, “Do you mind if we come in?”

Chance stepped aside and the two officers entered, and he was relieved that someone was doing something at least…though it was odd all the same. “I…I thought the police couldn’t do anything until after 48 hours? That’s what the operator told me when I called.”

The badger nodded, “Well, there have been a few…incidents, similar to this one lately. I wanted to investigate it early, before…well, I can’t really provide details about ongoing investigations, but time is of the essence in these cases.”

“Of course, anything I can do to help.”

The hefty dog didn’t say anything, just sniffed around a bit, looking…slightly confused. Chance noticed he had on a collar, which was odd. Most dogs didn’t wear collars–it tended to send the wrong sort of message. In fact, there was something else odd about this. He had given the operator his name and phone number–but he couldn’t recall giving her his address. He must have though–how else would the officers have found him? Now that he thought about it again, he must have. That was the only thing that made sense after all, and he wasn’t exactly sure of whether he was coming or going at the moment, anyway, to be sure of, well, anything.

The badger sat him down in the living room, and started asking him what seemed like fairly normal questions. Where Angus worked, whether he’d had plans the night before, whether he had any hobbies, anything that he might be doing. Chance answered honestly…but the questions seemed a bit…general, somehow. Every time he tried to give him details about how Angus had been acting oddly, or about the bar he’d told him about, the badger didn’t seem interested in those parts of the story at all. At the same time, the badger sitting in front of him seemed…familiar, somehow, but he couldn’t quite place him. It was after the interview had been going for a little while, that Chance had an epiphany–the badger in front of him was the same badger who had stopped him and Angus a few nights ago, on their way home from the city.

Was it a coincidence? Maybe it was…but why would a cop be out patrolling the highway late at night one day, and investigating missing people the next? It didn’t make sense. The badger’s partner was a bit…off putting as well. He kept nosing around the room, sniffing things out, but he still hadn’t said a word since stepping in the door. As the questions became more personal, asking about Angus’s family, asking about Chance’ family–which didn’t have anything to do with Angus being missing–and he finally asked the badger for his name and badge number. The badger just smiled, gave a whistle, and before Chance could do anything, the dog had rushed over, planted his thick paws on Chance’s shoulders, and had him pinned to the chair he was sitting on.

“Good boy,” the badger said, “Thankfully, you were slow enough to catch on that I got more than enough information for my purposes. That means we can skip right to the fun.” He stood up, slid one paw into his pocket, and pulled out a leather collar, similar to the one the dog looming over him had on. “Well, I can tell you one thing for sure, Chance–your husband isn’t missing. He’s right behind you.”

Chance looked at the badger, and then up at the rough dog above him, confused. “What…what are you talking about?”

“Well, on Saturday, when I pulled the two of you over, Chance…really did not want to go to jail that night, so I offered him a trade of sorts–suck my cock, and I could look the other way…but you probably knew about that, didn’t you? You don’t seem surprised by it. Did you tell that husband of yours what you did Dingo?”

The big dog shook his head, “No sir, I…I didn’t say anything about it.”

“Aww, were you embarrassed Dingo? Didn’t what your husband finding out how much more you like sucking my cock than his?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t know what fucking kind of joke this is, or if he’s in on it, but fuck you. Where’s my fucking husband?” Chance said. He tried to force his way up, but the dog leaned over further, pressing him back down, and he felt a blob of drool land on the top of his head.

“I already told you–he’s right there,” the badger said, fished around in his pocket again, and this time came up with Angus’s phone–and his wallet. “Looks like you’ve been messaging him plenty, lots of missed calls. I would have set up a rendevouz elsewhere, but he forgot his passcode, didn’t you Dingo?”

“Sorry sir,” Dingo said.

“He’s not too bright, that man of yours–good thing he’s got so much else going for him.”

“This isn’t fucking possible,” Chance said, “Look–if this is some…prank, or if I fucked up, just…just have Angus come out already, this isn’t fucking funny, alright?”

“Well, I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised that you don’t recognize him, but that’s the magic of the collar I suppose. He’s so much better as a good boy, than he ever was as a man, right Dingo?”

“Yes sir!” the dog said, “I’d much rather be master’s good boy, sir.”

“What do you think, Dingo, think this one-time husband of yours might make a good pup too?”

Dingo nodded, flinging more drool around, and Chance realized the thing pushing into the back of his neck was the dingo’s erect cock. He tried again to get up, but Dingo gripped him harder, digging his claws in enough to poke Chance through the shirt he was wearing, while the badger approached, collar between his claws, the grin on his face even wider, as Chance tried to pull away from him.

“Now now, don’t fight–you’ll feel so much better soon enough. If you’re a real good boy, I might let you top that husband of yours later, would you like that? Or were you usually the one getting topped, I wonder? That’s probably more likely–that blow job of his was pretty lackluster before I slipped his collar on him back there behind the car. After that…well, he was plenty eager, just like you’ll be I bet.”

Spook Mart (Part 11)

This is the final installment of the Spook Mart series–I hope you all enjoyed them! Next month, I think, since holidays are a time for families, the next interactive is going to be focused on some family bonding, but I don’t have the details hammered out yet. In any case, the first episode will be up later this week or next.

He was going to escape this. Ferris pushed the fear away as best he could, and focused on what mattered most–his tether. None of this was real–well, it was real in a sense, but not in the sense that mattered most. These spirits, they used the life force of the people who wandered too deep in dreams as food, but also as fuel. Everything here…it was coming from him, but it was that spirit controlling things, turning his own mind against him. The beasts growled louder, shaking the cage, and he lost focus for a moment, but regained it. He pressed against the bars of his cage, trying to will himself beyond them, knowing that they weren’t really there, but it was no use. All of it was no use, there…there was nothing he could do.

He lost the feel of it, and couldn’t grip it again, and fear took hold instead, and he could feel himself changing again, changing more, teeth growing into tusks, new hair growing across his smooth body, but not human hair, it was rough, and stank of fear and weakness. HIs skin turned to hide, but in the rare moments of clarity, he could still feel it, still feel the body, his body, lying in the bed, back in the world he came from, and still he resisted.

The spirit, perhaps growing impatient, returned, hauled him out of the cage, and began violating him again as before, raping him, but assaulting his mind…but Ferris had a plan now. Outside of the cage, he felt…free. There was nothing blocking him from the tether, and so, he gripped it, and with all of his mental will, he dragged himself up out of the nightmare, towards the world…but too late, he realized that he wasn’t returning alone.

The beast, the nightmare, it was clinging to him, inside him. In his mind, in his soul, and as they slid out of the dream realm and back into the real world, it followed him inside his body as well. This, he realized, is what the monster had really wanted. It hadn’t been trying to simply eat him–no, it had wanted him to escape all along, after he was compromised, and now…now there was too much inside his body, and he was too weak to keep fighting–just getting out had sapped the last of his power.

There was a great release of energy, and Ferris screamed–or he tried to scream, at least. The tether snapped–he was not just outside of his body, he was severed from it–and it was the nightmare inside it now, taking the place of his soul. But he wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t falling back into the dream–all of that energy, so much of it, it had mass, and Ferris found himself on the floor of the bedroom beside the bed, trapped in some small, husk of a body, not even human, not really anything at all–and he was sure he would have died, had the nightmare not sat up, chuckling, and slid off the bed and onto the floor next to him.

“Thank you, mortal–I’ve been wanting to try being alive for so very long now, and you’re the first human stupid enough to give me the chance. But don’t worry, I don’t want to see you go, and we had such great fun in your dreams, didn’t we?”

The spirit laid his hand on the mass of flesh where Ferris was trapped, and he felt more energy flowing into him–but not his energy. No, it was…more of that same corruption as before, and after a few minutes, Ferris was able to breathe, and see…and he saw what he was, and he felt spirit grip his mind in the clutch of its power, and break it.

Ferris’s found himself in the same fat, hairy, stinking form as he’d been in the dream–or at least, Ferris would have, if Ferris existed any longer, after the spirit rent him. No–the beast wasn’t anyone, not anymore. The beast was a slave, a slave to the master, the master that inspired so much fear in the beasts guts that it would do anything to please him. The spirit, realized that the human cock it now possessed was hard–it had seen these often enough that it knew what it was for…and it was eager to try it. The spirit turned the beast around and fucked it, roughly, experiencing the pleasure of sex for the first time–and knowing it wouldn’t be the last. Still, if it was going to survive here, in this body, it would need more energy soon–still, it could sense so many mortals around it, everywhere, and so many terrors in their hearts.

Perhaps it would make a few more beasts for its pleasure–or perhaps it would just terrify them to death. The only thing the spirit knew for sure was that now that it was out of the realm of dreams, it wouldn’t be going back without a fight.

THE END

When I read yours what you write, I feel like all the guys are white, am I wrong?

I do my best not to encode the things I write with any real obvious race–which means that yeah, I suppose they end up as a sort of default, which would mean they are basically white. I think that in TF fiction, most depictions of race end up coming across as stereotypes and caricatures, especially when the story uses racial TF, and that isn’t something I feel is particularly appropriate. There’s a fine line that can be walked between diversity and representation on one hand, and caricature on the other, and I suppose that the risk of the latter is high enough that I shy away from giving characters any real racial identity at all. I could do better at this–most writers could–but I think what is really missing from the genre are authors of color writing these sorts of things, or at least, I haven’t found many authors of color writing this sort of thing. If you know of any, let me know, and I’d be happy to give them a signal boost.