Arctos: Filters – Episode 1 (Part 3)

It was difficult to explain how it felt, exactly. On one hand, he had never been this big before–he guessed he was around 250 pounds or so, with a hefty gut, and a rather wide ass as well. He gripped it, and gave it a shake, and it felt good. Really good, somehow, in a way he didn’t even expect. He shook it again, and his cock was hard as a rock, slapping against the underside of his new gut–and the fact that he was so excited unnerved him. Before he could do anything else, he hurried over to the phone and undid it, and the ears, and decided that he had to delete the app…didn’t he?

He already missed it–how could that even be? Even though he’d only been that big for a moment, he felt off balance, like the version of him with that thick gut was the real one, and the skinny version, the real version, was fake. It was so disorienting, that he turned it back on–and when he had it back, he felt so much better, like everything was exactly how it should be. He looked at himself in the mirror, with his gut and floppy ears–and he liked it. It looked good, and right. Why not…keep them for a while? It’s not like he can’t change them back when he gets bored of it, right? And if he could always change himself back later, then why not try a few more changes? It was just for fun after all.

One filter in particular had caught his attention, when he’d been scrolling through–mostly because it had seemed insane that the app would even offer something like that. There it was–a filter that would, apparently, give him the dick of a pig. He didn’t even know what a pig’s dick looked like–he put the filter on, pointed the phone down at his dick, and was surprised at what he was looking at on the screen. It was…curly, and ran up his belly from a sheath, instead of sticking straight out from his crotch. He reached under and grabbed his cock–but what he was looking at, and what he was feeling didn’t match at all, even if the program did a good job rendering his hand stroking up and down the filtered image…but he wanted to know what it would feel like, now that he’d seen it for himself. He took the picture as he stroked it, and he swore he could feel it shifting in his hand, the pleasure intensifying, and he let off a grunt of excitement, put down the phone on the counter, and kept stroking–and thinking about Jean, and how he’d left his place without getting laid.

He was always so caught up in feelings, and wanting to know him, the real Bruce, he said, but he wasn’t complicated. He was just a horny pig, craving sex, and food, and…why not give him a taste of what he’s missing? He sent the dick pic he’d just sent to Jean, hoping to entice him a bit, still stroking, thinking about maybe heading over for a bit of fun, but the messages that came back were…not what he was expecting.

Jean was furious. He shows up at his place, acting strange, refuses to talk about it or anything else, leaves, and now he’s sending him dick pics? Jean wanted to know what in the hell he was thinking, and reading the messages…Bruce found himself asking the same question. What on Earth was he thinking?

He went into the app and reverted the changes–all of them. He felt normal again, the raging horniness from before wearing off, though he found himself…missing it, like he did all of the changes. Still, that wasn’t him. He sent an apology, but while Jean read it, he didn’t reply–had he really just fucked up his relationship so quickly? Then again, maybe it was for the best…though they’d been getting along so damn well, hadn’t they? Everything felt confused in his head, and he wasn’t quite sure whether what he was thinking and feeling was really himself, or just the lingering desires of the pig he’d been for a few minutes. He decided it would be best if he just went to bed, and tried to sort in all out in the morning–and thankfully, with a good night’s sleep, he did feel better, and the longing he felt for that other body was much less powerful than it had been, though it hadn’t gone away entirely.

Things were better with Jean too…though that was harder to try and manage. All Jean wanted was an answer. Why had Bruce been acting so strangely? But he couldn’t tell him the truth. Would he even believe him, if he tried to tell him? He doubted it–he’d just sound crazy. Instead, he told him that he’d had a bad day at work, and hadn’t been feeling well that evening, and while it was a lame excuse, maybe that lameness helped sell it. That, or Jean was just eager to believe something. They made up, had a nice day, and had a good round of sex, though Bruce found it difficult getting hard, and maintaining interest. He ended up not being able to cum, and when he got home he was hornier than ever, and frustrated at himself for not being able to even tell the truth about what was going on with him. Frustrated because the longing he’d hoped would keep dying away had come roaring back, now that he was horny.

The truth was, his human cock didn’t compare to the sensation of that pig cock he’d had for a few minutes. He…wanted to feel it again. It couldn’t have been as good as he remembered, could it? He hadn’t deleted the app, though he knew he should have. He opened it back up, and found that the program had autosaved the three filters into a package under a second tab–labeled past forms. He activated it, stripped down, and just…looked at himself. He was a…sexy fucking animal, he had to say that. He’d never really been one for chubs, really, but looking at himself (no, not himself, at…at the pig, at the pig he’d been? At the pig he could be?) he found all of the sexual energy he hadn’t been able to muster earlier, with Jean. So he took a picture, shook his gut a few times, then grabbed his cock and got to business.

Spook Mart (Part 4) [Interactive]

The two guards dragged Raphael down to the basement lab, where Miles–or the animal that had been Miles, was fighting against its bonds, desperate to escape. Now that he was closer, Raphael saw the truth–this was no prop or prosthetic–this was real. This insane doctor had turned Miles into a chimera right in front of his eyes.

“Well, I had hoped for a breeding pair, but I had given up hope after the last one expired during exploratory testing. A pity you have matching sex organs, but that’s not a impossible barrier, thankfully,” the doctor said, looking over Raphael’s naked frame, before sinking a needle into Raphael’s thigh and injecting him with some mysterious serum. Almost immediately, there was a burning pain in his cock and balls, and looking down, he could see them growing…smaller, shrinking up into his body until it was simply flat, and then slightly concave, and a new hole opened up between his thighs, but it was like no pussy he had ever seen in his life.

The burning was inside him as well, rearranging his organs, and the sudden flush of new hormones began warping the rest of him as well, as his muscles turned to fat, settling around his hips and chest especially, and with a low moan, Raphael realized that, more than anything else, he was horny. He began humping against his bonds, staring at Miles’ massive horse cock, craving to feel it inside him, aching for it, and when the doctor released him from the table, Raphael rushed over, climbed up on him, and slid the massive cock into his new pussy with one thrust.

Miles was trying to talk, trying to get his neighbor to snap out of it, but Raphael could only mindlessly fuck himself on the massive cock, eager to feel it flood his womb with seed, knowing that the seeds filling his guts would eagerly take all of it, and soon…soon, he would have children, so many children for the doctor. In the end, Raphael got what he wanted–a few times over. When the guards finally pulled him off Miles’s cock, his seed was running from Raphael’s new pussy, and he kept trying to use his hands to push it back in, back inside him where it belonged, where he needed it, and he was rushed off to his cell. Already, he could feel some of his children inside him coming alive and gestating rapidly, throbbing and kicking inside him. He didn’t know what they would be when they emerged, but he knew he would love them, and care for them, and that if he ever needed more, he was sure the doctor would give him more from Miles in due time.

THE END

*

Tale #2

Early October

“Let’s just see what they have,” Gerard said, as he pushed his way into the shop, followed by his three friends, Keith, Ricky and Hugh.

“This is such a dumb idea, they’ll beat the living shit out of us.”

“They won’t even know it’s us! We’ll sneak in, plant the stuff, and then get out before the party even starts. We can watch what happens from the window.

“So they’ll beat us up the next day, great.”

The four of them, reservations aside, were there to find pranks. Gerard had, recently, come into possession of a working key to the jock frat near their house. They held a big halloween party each year, and the four nerds had decided to play a few tricks on the jocks this year. The owner of the shop was more than happy to show them to his tricks section, full of odd, off brand pranks none of them had really heard of, and they weren’t entirely sure what they were even going to do. Still, they were cheap, and so they each loaded up with a few weapons of choice, ready to give those jocks a Halloween they wouldn’t forget for a very long time.

With the new voting system, I can do things a bit differently for this mini-story! Below are some of the pranks that the nerds bought to use against the jocks. I’ll probably eliminate a few of the less popular ones, and then craft a few short pieces about how the pranks affect the jocks on Halloween night.

  1. Baby bombs
  2. Laughing gas
  3. Itch powder 
  4. Slob soda 
  5. Hypno light
  6. Dad’s cigars
  7. Latex spray
  8. Caveman brew
  9. Truth serum 
  10. Horndog candy
  11. Pork powder
  12. Shrink ray

The public poll is here!

The patron only poll is here!

Voting ends on Monday!

Arctos: Filters – Episode 1 (Part 2)

“Are you alright?” Jean asked.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Bruce said, “Just…had a weird day today at work, is all.”

“Well, let’s talk about it, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m over it.”

Jean narrowed his eyes, “It doesn’t look like your over it, if you’re running to the bathroom and locking me out.” He sighed, “Bruce…I love you, but I can’t keep up with the narrative sometimes, you know? You have to let me in on occasion, if I’m going to be able to understand.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.”

It was clear that Jean didn’t believe it, and Bruce wasn’t surprised. They’d had this conversation (or argument, depending on how loud their voices got) plenty of times before, about the fact that Bruce wouldn’t open up to him…but in all honesty, Bruce didn’t know what Jean was looking for. He wasn’t a complex guy–he had a job, and he worked, and he liked Jean, and liked having sex–but Jean always seemed so…concerned about him, for some reason that Bruce didn’t really understand. It just felt like he wanted to get inside his head, but Bruce didn’t really want anyone in there, as far as he was concerned. If that meant he came off as distant and detatched…well, maybe he was.

The fight didn’t develop any further than that, but the frustration ruined the evening for them both, and to Bruce’s disappointment Jean didn’t invite him to stay the night, claiming he had an early morning the next day for work that he had to get rested up for. Bruce walked the way back to his apartment, and his thoughts turned back to the strange app he’d downloaded, and the ears he’d accidentally given himself–he opened it back up, being careful not to trigger anything, and looked through some of the options, surprised by the sheer variety the app could provide–and if they all worked like the ears had, the possibilities were…intriguing. However, for whatever reason, Bruce was drawn back to the ears, turning the filter on as he stood waiting for a crosswalk, looking at himself. He could almost feel them, just by watching himself move. To his surprise, he found himself missing them, despite the fact he’d only had them on his head for less than an hour. Still, not in public–he got back up to his apartment, triggered the ears again, and when he felt them flopping against the side of his head again, like before, he let off a sigh of relief he hadn’t even been aware of holding in.

He went into the bathroom and just stood in front of the mirror, playing with them, wondering why this all felt so natural to him. More natural than his human ears, even. Then again, in this reality, he’d always had them, so why wouldn’t they feel natural to him? Unnerved, he opened the app again, ready to get rid of them, but the screen had changed, and was instead showing a list of recommended filters for him, though since he’d only used one filter so far, all of them were, well, pig related in one way or another.

There was a filter that would make him look like a farmer, one that would make him chubby, another that would make him obese, and another that would make him fatter than he was really comfortable dealing with. Others focused on more piggish features–some added snouts, others made his hands and feet become trotters–and one promised to give him a sizable boar cock and balls. His squeamishness eventually gave way to curiosity. It wasn’t like he couldn’t just change back, right? Just to check, he removed the ears again, put them back on, removed them, put them back, removed them. He stared at himself, human again, wondering why, even with the app removed, he still didn’t feel…right, looking at himself like this. He’d never even thought about being a pig before in his life. He had a couple of friends who were furries, but he’d never once understood whatever they were talking about, or been interested in it, especially not erotically. It didn’t make any sense to him, and yet, when he turned the ears back on, he still felt so at ease in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

There was really only one way to know, he supposed. He pulled up another filter, the recommended one that would allegedly make him chubby, though not massive like some of them would, apparently. The screen displayed an error at first, telling him that he needed to back away from the camera and allow for a full body shot–then, when he did that, it also insisted that he remove all of his clothes. He did so, standing a bit awkwardly a few feet away from his phone, where it was propped up on the counter. He could see himself in the mirror, his usual body at least, and then below it, in the tiny phone screen, a body that was similar, but definitely larger, though it was too far to make out details very well. The app was on a timer, so he went up, pressed the trigger button, and then went back to position, watching the screen process–longer this time–and after a minute or so, his picture popped up. Bruce didn’t need to see the picture though. After all, he had his new gut already hanging off of him.

Spook Mart (Part 3) [Interactive]

Raphael had been inside Miles’s home any number of times–outside of their holiday rivalry, the two of them were actually quite good friends, and their families would regularly have dinner together. The house, however, was deserted–if Miles’s wife was out trick-or-treating with the kinds, Miles usually manned the door, but no one was even answering, and the kids who were brave enough to approach were leaving empty handed.

On the porch, after trying the bell a couple of times, he gave up and instead tested the knob–and discovered it was unlocked. He called out to Miles, but heard nothing in reply–he decided to venture in and see what was going on with his neighbor. As he entered, he also realized something else–that this was probably all some ploy to get back at Raphael in the first place. It was an act–it had to be! It was Halloween, after all. If anything, it made Raphael a bit proud that he’d gotten so far under his neighbor’s skin that he’d go to these sorts of lengths in order to try and scare him and win this little competition of theirs. Armed now with a bit of cynicism, he was able to see the strange oddities inside the house for what they were–fakes and props, nothing else.

Sure, the large vats full of…nightmarish looking creatures, suspended in formaldehyde or what have you, certainly looked real and terrifying, but he’d seen the trucks himself–obviously they were just props. He walked over to one and looked at it–it seemed to be some child, not even a teenager, suspended in fluid, but no longer entirely human, like someone had switched the boy’s limbs with a dog’s. He tapped on the glass, still amazed at how lifelike it was, when the boy’s eyes flicked open, and he began clawing at the glass, mouthing wordlessly in pain, or terror–and it was enough to send Raphael several steps backward, before he could remind himself it had to be animatronics of some sort–the fact that it looked so much like Miles’s son was probably done on purpose, just to make it even scarier for him.

As he explored, he heard the sound of voices down below him, and made his way to the basement steps–but as he went down, it was not the small cellar that he recalled Miles having under his home. No, this was…massive, and went down at least another two stories below than it had before, most of it open. How had they been constructing this right under his feet, for months, and Raphael hadn’t even noticed? That sneaky bastard–he had to give him some credit for this part, he supposed.

He crept down onto the platform below, and now he could see the source of the voice, and the screams as well. In an open lab beneath the catwalk, strapped to a table, was Miles–wearing some of the most elaborate prosthetics Raphael had ever seen in his life. He was naked, but much of his skin wasn’t human anymore–it was scaled, like a reptile. His face was contorted as well, with a lizard like snout pushing out from his mostly human face, open and screaming in pain (a sound unlike anything Miles had heard–but it was probably pre-recorded) and one eye was human, while the other was larger, yellow, with an iris turned on its side. He was struggling with his bonds, while a human bustled about the lab in a white coat–the mad doctor, of course, muttering to himself and to Miles, before injecting him with something else…and then, Raphael began to doubt everything, all over again.

The screams from Miles were fresh, and he watched his neighbor’s frame began to expand with muscle–but not…entirely human muscle, exactly. He could hear the bones snapping and growing, as his feet turned into dark black hooves in front of his eyes, a mane of brown hair grew down his neck and back, and his cock–fuck, it engorged and began to grow, longer and longer, until it was a literal horse cock lying between his legs on the table, a scaled tail growing out above his ass, thick like a lizards, but with the same long hair as the mane…and how was that even possible?

Raphael was frozen in shock–he didn’t hear the guards come up behind him before grabbing him, and dragging him down to the lab below, were the scientist, while annoyed at the interruption, was also pleased to have another test subject in the midst. However, what sort of test does he have in mind for Raphael?

I’m switching to a new polling platform, again! I’ve never been a huge fan of first-past-the-post voting, and after poking around a bit, I found a site offering ranked choice polls! What that means, is that instead of choosing just one option, you can rank all of the options from your most favorite to least, and all of those choices affect the final outcome of the poll. It means you can vote for a less likely to win idea, while not spoiling the outcome for a more popular option you might like as well. You can find more details here: 

Here’s your choices

  1. Breeding Program
  2. Siamese Procedure
  3. Genetic Milking
  4. Viral Mutation

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only poll

The polls will close in two days, on Saturday afternoon.

Arctos: Filters – Episode 1 (Part 1)

“Wait, is this the right one?” Bruce asked himself when he opened up the app on his phone, and started scrolling down through it. One of his coworkers that day had mentioned some new app that did some sort of really cool photo filters, but by the time he’d gotten home he hadn’t been able to remember the exact name. This one had sounded familiar though, and so he’d downloaded it from some company named Arctos. He booted it up, and it looked…well, like a lot of other filter programs he’d seen, but nothing particularly special. He’d just have to ask him for the right name tomorrow at work.

He browsed through the selections in this one, and was actually impressed by the sheer number. There were filters to change facial hair and hairstyle, filters that made you look like someone from a particular occupation–and then he saw something he hadn’t seen before–there were filters that the app claimed could change the look of your whole body. There was a buzz from his phone, a message from Jean, his boyfriend, checking to see if they were still on for dinner tonight, and Bruce decided to send him something funny. There was a collection of animal filters, and he found one that looked like a set of floppy pig ears. He turned it on, and was surprised by how lifelike it was–when he turned his head, he could see the ears swinging with it, and the physics of them was surprisingly realistic. He tilted his head to the side, letting one ear flop against his cheek, while the other one hung down, and then tilted it the other way. He didn’t know what company this was, but this was actually way more impressive than the one his coworker had mentioned. He took a photo of himself with the floppy ears–though it took a while for it to pop up on the screen, and then he sent it to Jean, along with a message that he was just about to leave.

He slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his coat and stepped out of his apartment. Jean lived a few streets away, but Bruce preferred walking, rather than trying to catch a bus. He hit the street, checked his phone again, and saw a message from Jean–“There’s my handsome man,”–but no mention of the ears added to the photo. Bruce was a bit annoyed that Jean didn’t mention the filter, he usually liked silly things like that, but it wasn’t a big deal, he supposed. Bruce just enjoyed the Spring chill on the twenty minute walk to his place, not really thinking about much in particular beyond how excited he was for Summer to finally arrive. He buzzed for Jean, who let him into the building, and Bruce hiked up the three stories to his apartment, where Jean was waiting for him. He gave him a kiss, and stepped inside, hanging his coat up on the hook inside. “Did you like that pic I sent?” he asked, “Kind of cool, right?”

Jean looked at him a bit puzzled, “Of course, you’re always cute in a photo–are you just fishing for compliments, or what?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but the ears Jean, come on.”

Jean just chuckled, “I know you feel self-conscious about them sometimes, so I never know if I should say anything or not, but of course they looked good–they always do,” he stepped closer, reached up and flicked one of the floppy ears hanging off of Bruce’s head, and watched his boyfriend’s face go pale, both hands flying up to the side of his head, and then he dashed to the bathroom like a madman, locking the door behind him.

They were there. The ears, they were real! Bruce grabbed one and gave it a tug, wincing from the sudden pain. It couldn’t be possible, it didn’t make any sense! He stared at himself in the mirror over the sink, tilting his head side to side like he had into his phone half an hour earlier, watching his new ears flop and hang just like they had, just like…they always had, right? He fumbled with his phone and pulled up his photos, looking through his selfies, and sure enough, his ears were there, in every single photo. His pig ears. Had he really walked all the way over here, and not a single person had looked at him? Or had they been looking, and he was just so used to the stares at this point, that he didn’t worry about it?

“Bruce?” Jean said, “I’m sorry, I…I mean, you asked, and I didn’t want to upset you, alright? Let’s talk about it.”

Bruce went back to the app, and his photo was still up. He backed out to the camera, and there, in the upper left hand corner, was a button marked undo. He slammed it, watched the screen process for a moment, and when the screen came back alive, they were gone. His normal, human ears were right there, like they’d never left. He looked in the mirror, and again, the pig ears were gone, and also from all of his photos, which had also turned back to normal. He heaved a sigh of relief, and then opened the door, where a very concerned looking Jean was standing.

October Story Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Do you have an idea you would like to see turned into a story? It can happen! I take requests from patrons every month, and use them to write story stories for them each week. One dollar a month is all it takes.

It’s also the only way that I accept any requests at all, so those of you who keep sending them to my inbox on here, you should try this instead. *Hint* *Hint*

October Story Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Spook Mart (Part 2) [Interactive]

He was up to something, Raphael was sure of it. Miles wasn’t one to just give up on something, and admit that he lost–no, Miles chased it down to the very end, which is why he was so fun to taunt. Each year, Miles tried to go so big with his holiday decorations, but throwing money at a problem like that was enough to look alright, but he had no vision. Raphael loved the holidays, he had his themes picked out months in advance, he’d been planning everything to the finest detail, but Miles just didn’t get it. But this year, he wasn’t doing anything. His house across the street was entirely bare, and whenever Raphael asked him about his decorating plans, he played coy, and didn’t say anything, just that he was waiting to set up so he didn’t ruin the surprise.

Halloween day rolled around, and out in front of Miles’ house, a large truck pulled up in front, with the logo “Spook Mart” on the side. Raphael had gone there to check it out, but found nothing interesting for his setup–what could Miles have found he thought might out do his own display?

In the end, Raphael couldn’t see much. The crew that got out of the van strung tarp across the sidewalk and driveway so no one could see it–probably so they wouldn’t ruin the surprise, or what not. He couldn’t help the curiosity though, and he wanted to know what in the world his neighbor was planning on having those men do to his house. Turn it into a haunted house for the neighborhood? Some extravagant special effect? Not knowing was killing him, slowly, but it wasn’t until dusk that the tarp would come down, and he would see for himself.

Across the street, Miles was having trouble of his own. The crew was ignoring his demands and just storming in and out of his house–the even knocked a hole in the wall without asking him, or an apology, like they were doing it on purpose! When he tried to stop them, the workers just grabbed him, tied him to a chair in the kitchen, or in a room that was looking less and less like a kitchen with each passing day, and left him there yelling and shouting for help. He was only there for a couple of minutes, before a new fellow he hadn’t seen from the van came up to him, shouting orders at the workers as he did.

He was short, and older, with a shock of wild curly grey hair on his head, and rather wild looking eyes. “Ah, there you are Mr. Yonski, so thankful to you for allowing me the use of your property for my lab this grand evening–and thank you too, for signing my test subject waiver! I can’t tell you what it means, to have someone so generously donate their lives to science.”

Miles had no idea what the crazy looking man was talking about, and kept trying to scream for help, when the doctor sank a needle into the side of his neck, plunging the sedative into his system, and paralyzing Miles within moments. “Now now, let’s not make a scene here–that’s what tonight is for, after all,” he turned to a couple of laborers and shouted, “Hey! Bozos! Get him down in the basement, and onto a table. I want to get to work. I hate all these…aesthetics, but it can’t be helped. At least try to keep the noise down so I can concentrate.”

Supervising them the whole way, the doctor led them down into the basement of Miles’ home, which he hadn’t even noticed had been converted into a sizable laboratory in a matter of hours. Down there, he was laid on a table and strapped into place, fully aware of what was going on, but unable to move a muscle. When the laborers had left, the doctor cut away Miles’ clothing–all of it–and started taking his measurements, and a few initial tests.

He could see, outside, that the afternoon was fading into night, when the doctor finally made his pronouncement. “Well, I think I know just the project for you to help me out with Miles. Don’t worry, I’ve tested it on a few others before, nothing too permanent, I promise. You’ll feel mostly like yourself in no time at all.”

He tried to scream again, as the doctor went to work. Outside, the laborers were finishing up, and took down the tarp, revealing a now dilapidated house, full of wires and sparks, some of them useful, and others less so. Every few minutes, a lightning strike would come out of the blue sky and strike the lightning rod on top of the house, making everything shudder and light up with a flash.

Raphael was, you could say, impressed. It didn’t really count in his book though, because he hadn’t even done it himself. As the night started and trick or treaters appeared, however, he noticed something odd–no one was answering the door. When there was a lull, he went over to see what was happening, but got no answer either–but he heard someone in there, or something at least, down in the basement, but he couldn’t see what was going on. He tried the door, and it was unlocked…but Miles was nowhere to be found. He slid inside, and headed for the basement to investigate.

So, what sort of project did our good doctor decide to test out on Miles?

  1. Hyde Serum
  2. Nanobot Integration
  3. Genetic Splicing
  4. Parasitic Propagation

Here’s the public poll!

Here’s the poll for Patrons!

Votes will be collected on Thursday!

Fall Tumblr Update

Fall is here, and with it, a lot of changes have been coming. I’ve been waiting until I got a bit further settled into my new schedule and life before making any large decisions, but I’ve decided that, due to a number of different factors, I am going to be scaling back my writing somewhat for the foreseeable future.

Some of these reasons are personal, some of them are creative, and some of them are practical. With my schedule at the moment, I simply don’t have the time to produce all the content I need for this site, for my Patrons, for my upper tier commissioners, and myself. I would say that 80 to 90 percent of the writing I have produced over the last year has been either commissions for others, or based off of people’s requests–I have a massive backlog of my own ideas that I simply don’t know when I will be able to get them out, if I continue along with my current workload. Much of what I want to produce aren’t even traditional stories at the moment–I’ve been working on some erotic role playing games, interactive stories, and other odd things like that, but I haven’t had the time to really dedicate to them the energy I would like. And finally, with my husband’s new job, we have a much more comfortable income at the moment, and so I can scale back the need to generate income, and focus more on my writing, which was the point of all of this to begin with.

For most people, nothing will change. None of the bottom three tiers on my Patreon are going away, none of their perks are going away, and for those of you with regular commissions I have already been in touch with all of you on how I hope this transition will work. Starting next month, I will be revamping the tiers somewhat to incorporate some of my new interests, especially on the RP side of things, so if that’s something you are interested in, I’ll have more details about that soon. I will also probably reconsider my goals, and have some new targets and things that I would like to target in the future.

With this drop in income, my Patron will almost certainly drop back down below the $700 dollar level, meaning I will go back to posting content only five days a week, from Monday to Friday, starting next week. As always, thank you for all of your support and for reading my strange stories over the last decade (goodness, more than a decade really, more like 11 years) and I look forward to providing you all with many more stories to come. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a message, and I’ll get them answered.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 6 (Part 4)

He had known of me then, apparently. He had been hunting in the city (or rather, he had hunted, and been in the midst or releasing Ray, warping him into the muscular beast we had later found in that shipping container, when he caught wind of me–literally. It had puzzled him…because it wasn’t a smell he had ever experienced before, the same darkness inside him within another. According to Cumster, we had talked at some point–though the bruiser could, apparently, appear rather unassuming when he wanted to. I don’t know when this was, and Cumster didn’t know enough to help me pin down the timeline. In any case, he had figured out that the beast inside me was dormant–and what he needed was someone to help me get loose. He couldn’t risk doing it himself, and he had other projects that needed tending to. So instead, be decided to stage something…more public than he usually did, to draw me in, and then he would send me Cumster, as a gift–though Cumster didn’t know that.

Cumster, apparently, thought he was helping Master soften me up for an unleashing, as he called them. That I was just a particular target of interest, and Cumster was so eager to be of service to his Master, that he hadn’t bothered questioning why he would need help at all. But I knew why he was here–wmy my kin had chosen this one, in particular, to send to me–and I also understood what I had seen earlier, in the restaurant, and why he needed me–or why we would need each other.

Unleashing someone’s inner drives was a messy business. Some people weren’t capable of handling the process at all–the shell was too weak, without enough to sustain the transformation. If he had tried to give Marcus, or Bernard, what they desired, they wouldn’t live through that first proper beating. Perhaps abandoning them was merciful, or perhaps it was crueler than death would be, and that was why he did it. He, after all, wasn’t someone who took feelings into account, when it came to doing his work. Likely he just didn’t see the point in continuing something that would go unfulfilled. But for those who emerged on the other side–like Cumster, or Ray–the desires that grew might appear human, but they were never quite…properly mortal. See Cumster, and his diet, or Ray and his musk. Close enough to pass, but look closer, and the tangle could be seen, plain as day. And sometimes, the human was shed altogether, and you find yourself with a proper abomination, like the thing in the abandoned restaurant. Desire, without order, was always monstrous (though the law can be just as monstrous too, in i’s…proper application). The bruiser could only free; he could never bind or confine. No–that was my bailiwick now. I could have finished it earlier–I should have finished it earlier, but without my skin, I hadn’t…known what my real work was, and it had escaped. I would have to remedy that, before anything else–before I could properly appreciate my gift from my kin. Still, I could at least take the time to bind him properly–a single handcuff would no longer suffice.

I broke the chain, when Cumster finished speaking, when he had poured out everything he knew–even things I don’t think he was aware that he knew. He seemed exhausted from the effort, from trying to fight my orders, and when I uncuffed him, brushing my finger against the lock, the bracelets falling away at once, and for a short moment he thought he would be free. I disabused him of that notion quickly. I took great care, in how I secured him–on his knees, hands bound to his sides, mouth forced wide by my straps of skin, his head forced back and attached to the wall, ready to begin receiving the law, ready for me to begin shaping that unruly mass of ivy into something far more…orderly. My cock was the same dark, brusied shade as the rest of me, but much, much longer than it had been before, easily a foot and a half. As I felt my need boiling up, I realized I could control it, much like a snake, or a tail, the head sliding around Cumster’s chapped lips before worming down into him, sliding down his throat, feeling even his experienced body gag at the intrusion, until I was planted deep, and began to thrust, fucking his throat, feeling my cum begin to pump and flow right into his guts. He shivered. I imagine, it felt cold, and harsh, sitting in his belly like mercury, slowly leeching out into the rest of his body. I imagine it felt like death–not like the death of Steven, which had been a  death full of vitality, and pain, and heat. More like a drowning. Feeling his mind swallowed up in the chill of my law, his senses deadening, his sense of self diminishing bit by bit. I filled him up, the pleasure…so strong, that all I wanted to do was keep pumping until he was bursting with me, but I held back, withdrew, and allowed him to stew with that. There would be time for more, later, and my cock retracted into the sheath that had formed along my belly. For now, there were beasts that needed my law more than he did.

I left then, leaving the three of them bound, knowing I would deal with them all in turn, once my task was through. Listening to Cumster’s tale had cost me several hours of time, and the city was large…but like before, in the restaurant, when I could feel that disorder all around me when the thing was near, I could still feel it on the air…but it was stronger than it had been. Obviously, after escaping the restaurant, it had found a different feeding ground, and likely other victims to its desires. It was strong enough to make the hunt easy, however, and so I set off to find it, eager to dance with it again–and this time, I knew I would conquer it, and bring it under the sway of my law.