December Patreon Suggested Stories Ready to Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Merry Christmas everyone! 

Also, in other news, Patreon is hovering right at around the $700 level–it’s gone over and under a couple times this month, just as things have fluctuated, so for January, I’m going to go ahead and start posting seven days a week! What those two days of additional content are going to look like is going to fluctuate, though they probably won’t be normal posts. Instead, I would like to get back into doing things like interactive stories, occasional caption stories, metawriting entries, and other possible ideas I’ve had rolling around in my head. 

This January, I’ve decided to start off with a new interactive story to start things off! In the past, voting for the different choices at the end of the story has been difficult to deal with, mostly because tumblr doesn’t have a way to post polls, so this time around, I’m going to be doing something a bit different! There will be two (identical) polls going for each entry in the story, one on twitter (my handle is @WesleyBracken) and one on Patreon, for Patrons only (anyone contributing at least one dollar can access it). That means, Patrons get two votes, essentially, since they can access both polls, while everyone else can vote once on Twitter. I’ll be sure to provide clear links to both polls, to make the process as simple as possible! The first entry in the story will be up on January 3rd!

For your pleasure, here’s one of the Christmas themed shorts I wrote for Patreon contributors this month! We’ll finish off “City of Bears: Lovers and Strangers” over the next couple of days!

Christmas Justice

“And have you been good this year?” Nick asked the little girl on his lap. She nodded vigorously, and started rattling off a list of things she was hoping to get from Santa, while her tired parents looked on the scene. She asked if his beard was real, he gave a laugh, and assured her it was, but when she tugged on it, and he nearly yelped, he almost shouted at her–but kept the rage down. Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes, and all of this will be over. He winked at her over his spectacles and smiled while one of the elves took their photo, and then she was whisked off, and replaced by another child on his old, aching knee.

Nick hadn’t asked for this job–no, he hadn’t asked for any of this. One week before, he had been seventeen, out of school for break, and hanging around the mall in the throngs of shoppers with his friends, and stupidly, on a dare, he had agreed to shoplift something from one of the stores. He couldn’t even remember what it had been, something cheap and small, and he’d gotten out of the store with it, on the way to meet back up with his friends, when a man had grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.

“Where do you think you’re going with that?” he asked, and palmed the bauble from Nick’s pocket, where he’d stashed it. “That’s very, very naughty of you, you know, stealing like that.”

Nick denied it, and tried to pull away from the man, but his grip was like iron. He’d dragged Nick into a shadowy hallway off the mall concourse, and when he’d woken up–well, Nick wasn’t the young man he remembered being. He was fat–easily 350 pounds, with a thick white beard, his hair balding past the crown of his head, face wrinkled, hands, knees, hips and back aching. He’d stood up in horror, and saw that his clothes had changed as well–he was in a Santa costume, and before he could do anything else, one of the elves from the mall had spotted him, dragged him off, and sat him down in the chair, forcing him to listen to these snot nosed brats beg him for presents, taking picture after picture with him all day long.

That night, when he was finished with his shift, the old man had found him–given him a set of keys, and told Santa to go home to his place and get some rest. Nick had begged him to change him back, and the man had said, “Be good for the next week, and on Christmas Eve, I’ll give you a life you deserve, Santa.”

It had been cryptic and suspicious, but it was the only hope he had. He lived alone in a tiny, dingy apartment, eating and drinking himself to sleep, cock unable to even get hard to jack off or think of having sex with anyone. He just felt miserable, old, and useless. Looking at himself in the mirror, especially naked, made him sick to his stomach, but it was just for a week, right? And now, ten minutes to quitting time, the line dwindling down on Christmas Eve–he was nearly there. The last child toddled off, and he breathed a heavy sigh, as did the elves around him, and they started closing up shop, while Nick went off to get changed and head home.

But on his way there, he found someone waiting for him–the old stranger–and his heart leapt. He tried to run, but his old knees weren’t up to it–he just hobbled on a bit faster until he was in front of him. “Fuck, please–please, I’m sorry, just change me back, please!”

The man smiled. “Are you sure? You did such a good job, making so many children so very happy. Don’t you think being a jolly old man suits you?”

“Fuck you! I fucking hate this. I hate malls, I hate being old–but most of all I hate being fat! My dick doesn’t work and I fucking hate this, all of it. This isn’t fucking fair! You can’t just fucking do this to me, change me back!”

“Disgusting, eh? You don’t think a mature look suits you? Well, perhaps it doesn’t–not quite yet. But you do need to learn to better appreciate your elders, I think. And life, of course, isn’t fair, Nick–it never is, never has been, and never will be. But life can, on occasion, be just, you know?”

It was happening again–he could feel it. He was changing, his vision fading, and he clutched at the wall to steady himself as he went down on his fat ass, the last words of the old man reverberating in his head as darkness overtook him.

Nick startled awake, but didn’t know how much time had passed. Looking down, he wanted to cry–he wasn’t back in his old body, and the old man was nowhere to be seen. Using the wall, he managed to heave himself upright, and waddled down the hall to the locker room there, to see what had happened to him. In the mirror, staring back at him, wasn’t Santa–but rather, the image of a massively obese mall cop, his chubby figure straining the uniform he’d squeezed himself into, chins overflowing his collar, barely hidden behind the short grey beard he had over his face. The worst part though, was that looking at himself there…he felt a shiver of arousal. He looked…good. Hot, even. He gripped his flab and gave it a shake, and while his stomach turned a bit, much stronger that the disgust was a sense of humiliating thrill. Look at him–such a fat fucking pig, fuck! He gave a little snort, and his short, soft cock leaked a bit of precum into the front of his uniform pants–and then the door opened, and Doug stepped into the room with a knowing smile.

Doug, the mall santa, who’d just finished his last shift. He looked the part, and staring at the old man in the red suit…Nick’s knees went weak with desire. “There’s my police pig–it’s your last night to get Santa’s dick! you’d better make it count, and show Santa what a good boy you’ve been this year.”

“Oh fuck yeah Santa, this pig has been extra good this year–give me anything you want, sir, anything!” Nick said, dropping his pants and underwear to the floor, bending over the sink, letting Doug step behind him and slip his cock into Nick’s hole. As Doug fucked him, more and more memories of this life filled Nick’s mind–his role as the bumbling, obese mall cop, too fat to really catch anyone or be of any use at all, who usually was found stuffing himself at the food court all day–when he wasn’t cruising old daddies and sucking their cocks in the bathroom during his shifts. Nick–the old Nick–never really went away, nor did the horror of his new life, and on occasion, the old man would pay him a visit. Nick always did his best, servicing the stranger’s old cock with as much gusto as he could, but he hadn’t agreed to change him back–yet. But maybe one day, he would–that was the last hope Nick had for his new life.

December Patreon Suggested Stories Ready to Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

City of Bears: Lovers and Strangers (Part 5)

The conversation turned to lighter topics than fading love, and when they finished the meal, they left, and walked the few blocks to Cubster’s Dance Hall. It was one of the few places in the city where a cub could go to just, well, be a cub–or where anyone could go to be a cub, really, even for just a night. It had a very strict “no daddies allowed” policy–it was strictly for cub-on-cub fun, though daddies could always get a piece of uninhibited cubdom, so long as they imbibed a few of the club’s special drinks first in an antebar. The missing daddies made it a special oasis–after all, a cub around any daddy could find it…difficult to resist, not that they usually objected. It was a constant worry though, in some ways, and having a place to go where you felt a little less of that pressure could be nice for an evening. Wyatt had never been there himself–he’d never really wanted to be a cub for a night, he’d been very happy as a daddy. But now, he was actually rather intrigued, and kind of excited to be going to somewhere rather exclusive–although it wasn’t like Wyatt hadn’t been a feature at several daddy exclusive pipe bars around the city.

The bouncer checked them at the door–and seemed particularly happy about Wyatt joining the party. Inside, the hall inside was all shimmering lights and throbbing music, the scent of musk and sugar on the air. Wyatt would have found it overstimulating before, but now it just felt like pure excitement. Carter got them a couple of cub sodas, and by the time he got back, Wyatt was already out on the dance floor, swaying and gyrating. As his daddy, Wyatt hadn’t had a rhythmic bone in his body–but apparently this new cub was going to be quite the dancer. Carter joined him, after a few sips of the soda–the house drinks always helped him feel like he fit in a bit better, slimming him down slightly, the energy in the room infecting him just a little more. Before too long, he and Wyatt had lost track of time, and of themselves, dancing to song after song, grinding together, enjoying each other, and the longer he was with him there on the floor, the more Carter found himself looking at Wyatt–at his ridged, furry abs and thick chest, strong shoulders and perfect ass. Was it jealousy, or something more? Everything felt a bit slippery, when you were around someone changing. More than a few cubs were eyeing him as well–particularly the sort of cubs who tended to shun daddies entirely, and prefer the company of their own. When they finally exhausted themselves and returned to their sodas, several made passes at him, suggesting they slip away to the back rooms, offering him drinks, but Wyatt politely refused. Still, it was obvious he was enjoying himself, but Carter wanted a break–he suggested he at least take up someone on the offer to dance, and so Wyatt stepped back out onto the floor with a bevy of other men, while Carter sat back, relaxed, and watched the fledgling cub enjoy himself.

Watching with amusement became a certain rapt fascination, and that fascination slowly twisted into something Carter wasn’t particularly familiar with, which was a pounding desire for his friend. Realizing what he was feeling, he nervously took another sip from his soda, but the rush of sugar just tasted cloying and bitter–he gagged on it and spit it back in the glass, confused, until a couple moments later, when a bouncer walked up to him. “Hey, what’s the deal? You know the rules–you’re not usually one to slip away on us, Carter.”

Carter was confused, but the bartender directed him to the mirror behind the bar, and Carter blushed horribly, realizing what had happened. His early twenty-something face had grown a bit craggy–he was, arguably, still a cub, though one who had seen, perhaps, a few too many years to be convincing. “Sorry man, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well tone it back down, or I’ll have to boot you for the evening. Need another drink?”

Carter shook his head, and took another drink of the one he had, but it tasted even more vile than it had before, and he couldn’t help but spit it out. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

The bouncer had seen it plenty of times before, and he hauled Carter up from the table and dragged him to the door. It happened to everyone, sometimes, he told Carter a bit apologetically. “Why not try Dickhole for a bit? Plenty of cubs looking for that down there,” he said, and pushed him out onto the sidewalk, “But don’t pull this shit again, got it? I thought you were better than that.”

The bouncer went back inside, and Carter was left standing there on the sidewalk, feeling rather humiliated and horrified–and a bit worried too. Wyatt was still in there, and he might think he’d abandoned him without even saying goodbye. But a moment later, Wyatt, dripping with sweat, exited the building and bounded down the steps to where Carter was standing. “What happened? I saw that guy drag you out, are you–oh…” Wyatt paused. It was getting dark, but he could see the slight shift in Carter’s face, the tinge of silver in his goatee. “Are you…daddying out, man?”

Carter blushed, “Y-Yeah, I guess I did a bit.”

“I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“It doesn’t happen very often, trust me.”

“Was…was it me?”

Carter couldn’t bring himself to say it. It felt so awful, as things had been turning towards friendship, for this to suddenly erupt from him, unasked for. “Look, lets go to Dickhole, alright? I know a few regular daddies who will set me–well, set us–straight right away.”

“You didn’t answer my question Carter, was it me?”

He sighed, “Yeah. Yeah, it was you. You aren’t even my type, and I don’t know why–”

He was interrupted by Wyatt lunging into him, pressing his lips to Carter’s mouth, and the smell of him, sweaty from dancing, the tinge of rubber, Carter couldn’t help but moan into him. “It had better have been me–I was dancing for you, after all.”

City of Bears: Lovers and Strangers (Part 4)

Carter woke up to empty arms, and had a slight panic, worried that Wyatt had slipped away while he was asleep, and made good on his threat to leave without spending their final night together. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have blamed him–changing was always hard, and it can be tempting to just throw yourself into the new as quickly as you can, in order to avoid the heartbreak of leaving behind whatever it was you were leaving. Still, Wyatt wasn’t like that–or rather, the old Wyatt wasn’t like that, and Carter hoped that there was still enough of that Wyatt around for them to have one last hurrah. He sat up and looked around at the room–at his room. The touches of Wyatt’s had begun to disappear–small things, like the pictures on the dresser, and the chair he liked to sit in while he put on his boots.

Then he heard the toilet flush, and a couple moments later a stranger pushed open the bedroom door, looking a bit sheepish and embarrassed. Wyatt was easily in his thirties at this point, and the grey in his hair was reduced to just a few flecks around his beard–now trimmed down to a goatee–and a light dusting in his chest hair, which was a bit thinner than Carter remembered it being. He had lost quite a bit more weight as well, and was probably a hundred pounds lighter than he had been. At the same time, he filled out in muscle, especially across his chest and shoulders. He wasn’t quite Carter’s type, but he couldn’t deny that he was becoming quite a hot cub. He checked the clock, and saw that they’d slept for quite a while–it was almost five. Time for a light meal, and then time to hit the town.

“So, I was thinking Cubsters,” Carter said, “I doubt you’ve even been there.”

Wyatt furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t that club have a no daddies policy? I…well, I woke up pretty horny, honestly. Hornier than I’ve been in a while,” Wyatt gave his semihard cock a few strokes–it was average, maybe a bit smaller than it had been. “Could really use a big daddy plowing my ass, you know?” he said, and flashed a very uncharacteristically cocky grin, caught himself, and nearly blushed to death. “Oh god, did I just say that?”

Carter just laughed. “Look, let’s start at Cubsters, dance a bit, have some drinks, and then lets go to Dickhole, and we can get you fixed up–get us both fixed up. You know I can always use some good daddy dick too.”

Wyatt liked that notion, and so the two of them negotiated on what to wear. Since Wyatt’s clothes had largely disappeared at this point–and what few things remained wouldn’t fit his new frame anyway–Carter helped him pick out an outfit he liked from his own clothes. They weren’t quite the same size, by any stretch, Carter had about seventy-five pounds on him, mostly chub, and a couple inches in height, but things worked out alright. In particular, some of Carter’s older rubber gear, from when he was a bit smaller, fit Wyatt like a glove. He looked at himself in the mirror, in the dark green tank and rubber shorts, with the crotch and ass missing, his cock erect and leaking already…and he was surprised by how excited he was. His old self would have never been caught dead in something like this, but the thought of everyone staring at him as he walked down the street, as he danced in the club with his friend–fuck, he wanted everyone to be looking at him. Shoes were easier–their size was almost the same, and he slipped into some green sneakers to match the outfit, and then Wyatt got dressed too, though he skipped the rubber, and went with a pair of denim booty shorts and a leather vest–a bit trashy, sure, but why steal Wyatt’s thunder? He looked fucking great in that gear, after all, and this was celebrating him, and his change.

They grabbed some food on the way, chatting a bit, losing some of the intimacy of before, and yet a closeness lingered which they both appreciated. The love was cooling, but both of them could feel something else filling out the space between them–something like friendship, but still a bit too muddled to really be seen clearly for anything at all. Wyatt, in particular, had relaxed after their emotional morning. He didn’t seem as concerned that he’d lose Carter entirely anymore, and he also was really enjoying himself. He felt so free like this, sitting there, ass and cock hanging out, all the other bears passing by sneaking glances at him–or just openly staring and groping themselves, hoping for a quick fuck or blowjob on the sidewalk. He would have taken a few of the older bears up on the offer, but resisted the urge–he wanted to spend time with Carter, before everything drifted away again. He wanted to hold onto this as long as he could–but he could already tell that when the time came, he’d be ready to let it go, and Carter would be ready too.

“So…now that you’re unattached, anyone you’re thinking about hitting up?” Wyatt asked, “I know you have plenty of fuckbuddies to choose from.”

Carter shrugged, “Nah, no one really. I…I always liked coming home to you. Did it bother you that I slept around so much?”

Wyatt shook his head, “Nah–I was a boring old fucker, and you were just having fun.”

“I think I’ll try the single thing for a bit. It never lasts of course–I know a few guys who would take me in tomorrow, if they found out about you changing. Hell, a few guys who would probably lock me up in a dungeon to keep me from going anywhere, and I wouldn’t mind a few of them doing it either.”

Wyatt just laughed, “I’m sure you’ll be happy.”

Carter nodded. “Don’t forget I was always happy with you though.”

City of Bears: Lovers and Strangers (Part 3)

It bothered Wyatt that Carter obviously had a longer memory of their relationship, before and during, than he did. To him, there had just always been Carter–his cub. Beyond that was just fuzz–it didn’t exist, not in the same way this did. It wasn’t true anymore, and so it wasn’t worth bothering to even remember. But now, their truth was fading already, and after feeling so solid, that fleeting realization was, if Wyatt was honest with himself, terrifying. It was always terrifying. He hated changing, he always had. That was why he threw himself into every new life as hard as he could, and tried his best to forget everything before. It was…easier, than trying to grapple with your own transitory nature–that your body would go on, but it would look entirely different, and everything else would simply evaporate into the void. Some bears, he knew, suffered from such anxiety that they almost never left their private spaces. Some couples, so deeply in love, they were walled in with each other, terrified to leave lest one of them disappear forever. But what kind of life was that? As unsettling as this was, it was still better to live–and you could live so much! Losing yourself was daunting, but then he thought of Levi, and his heart swelled again. There would always be love, at least, even if he was a stranger to him now.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Carter said into the silence, and Wyatt jerked from his thoughts.

“What?” Wyatt said, “Really? I don’t…know.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun! You and your daddy dive bars, let’s go somewhere fun! You never wanted to go to a club with me, but you won’t be able to help yourself.”

It did sound fun, actually, and he smiled.

“See? You’re thinking about it. No, ‘I’ll just stay home with a book and smoke my pipe,’ for you anymore. ” Carter said, mocking his daddy’s low baritone, “You’re a new man!”

Wyatt looked shocked at Carter’s words, which confused the cub, and Wyatt hauled himself up from the table and went to his study, threw open the door, but the wall where his pipe rack had been–it was gone. All of them, gone, overnight. He’d had fifty pipes in that collection, meticulously cared for, all of them with a history, all of them with a story, all of them important, and just like that–gone. “My…my pipes. I lost my pipes…”

A smoke in the morning after breakfast, a smoke in the afternoon, and a smoke (or sometimes two, or three) in the evening. That was his routine, he had done it for years–he’d felt like he’d done it for years. It had been such a comfort, and he hadn’t even noticed it waning away. He hadn’t had a chance to even say goodbye to them all. The worst part was that he didn’t even really miss them–he wasn’t craving a smoke, but a hole had opened up, and looking around him, how many other things would fall into it? He turned and he gripped Carter tight, sobbing, “I don’t want to lose you, Carter, I don’t want to lose all of this! I…I know I have to go, but I…I can’t stand the thought of not missing you.”

Carter stood there, holding Wyatt, awkward and uncertain. He was usually the one crumbling emotionally, stressing about a bear who turned him down, horrified by some strange kink he’d done, nervous about himself and who he was–he turned to Wyatt for everything. Holding him now, a smaller him, a younger him–it wasn’t how it was supposed to work, but who else did he have, at the moment? Who else could understand it? He let him cry, trying to find words that might fix it, but there was nothing to say. Eventually, Wyatt either exhausted himself, or managed to bottle most of it back up, and he pulled away from Carter and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. I…it just caught me off guard is all.”

Carter nodded.

“And I’m sorry about what I said, I don’t want this to be hard. I don’t…you don’t owe me anything, you know that, but I want you to know, while I’m still here, how much you meant to me, how happy you made me, even if I didn’t know how to say it sometimes. Just having you here made me feel so alive! And Levi, I…I barely know him, and it’s so terrifying. I want to be with him so badly, but I’m so scared of who I might become. I can’t…control myself around him, I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him.”

“You…don’t have to forget me, you know.”

Wyatt leaned into Carter’s chest. “No–that’s how it always is for me, I throw myself into it. I never look back. Hell, you remember who I was better than I do! This time next week…I might not even recognize you if we passed by on the street. Everything feels so real, and then it doesn’t. I hate this, I should just leave, I can’t do this to you, this is cruel.”

He tried to pull away, but Carter tugged him back in. “This isn’t cruel. I want you for one night. One night, and you can go tomorrow. But we’re going out tonight, and we’re going to have some fun, alright? I want to see what you’re like, as a cub. I have to admit I’m curious–that’s a side of you I honestly didn’t expect.”

“What if you don’t like me? What if I don’t like me?”

Carter laughed. “Let’s not worry too much about that, alright? Now come on–I can tell neither of us slept well last night. Now come on, let’s take a disco nap, get ready, and go out.”

He could tell Wyatt was still hesitant, but when he tugged on his hand, he followed him towards the bedroom–which thankfully still held their king sized mattress. Wyatt climbed in, but it didn’t…feel right, somehow. Like he was sleeping in a stranger’s bed, and he realized it was because the indent he’d worn in over the years was gone–there was just one divot in the center. Before he could feel terrible about it, Carter pulled him close to spoon, but found himself in the position of little spoon for the first time he could recall–still, there was a comfort in it, and Wyatt drifted off almost immediately, with Carter following soon after.

Have you heard of the online disinhibition effect? Any opinions about it?

I hadn’t ever seen it connected to that term before, but the idea that people tend to create alternate, less inhibited personalities online is something I’ve just generally taken to be true, honestly. I mean–just look the fuck around us on tumblr–it’s everywhere.

Do I have any opinions on it? I mean…I don’t really think its something you can have an opinion on–it just exists. It’s a feature of anonymous spaces really–it’s just that the internet is a really big anonymous space. People create different persona all the time–I’m not the same person at home that I am at work, or with straight friends at a sports bar, or with gay friends at a gay bar, or online as a kinky sex-freak writer. But just because I can inhabit different masks doesn’t make any one of them more real than the others–they’re all real, and they’re all me.

I think it’s something that a lot of people are going to struggle with, as the barrier between online personas and real life personas begin to break down faster and faster, as the anonymous internet disappears (because lets all be honest–it is disappearing, and faster than any of us are really comfortable dealing with). I mean, this gets at the real issue, in my opinion, which is that technology at the moment is developing at an absurdly rapid pace, faster than any of us can really deal with on a psychological level, and very little thought is being put into the psychological effects of any of this. We’re all babies with hand grenades, basically, and there’s no adult in the room to stop the carnage we’re bringing on ourselves, on each other, and on our identities. It’s only going to get worse, and when it does, it will get very…disturbing.

have you ever written a story and decided that it’s too messed up to ever post?

…No? I mean, there are a few stories I haven’t posted–usually because they are commissions with rather specific identifying info of the commissioners within the story itself, but no, the content of a story itself has never dissuaded me from posing anything, there’s no collection of “even worse shit” just lying in a folder somewhere. I don’t even know what that even worse shit would look like. 

City of Bears: Lovers and Strangers (Part 2)

Carter took the whole thing gracefully. In fact, Wyatt could sense that in some ways he was relieved, though he doubted his cub would be able to simply come out and say that. It didn’t really help him feel much better, that Carter was taking it so well, and Wyatt found himself second guessing their entire relationship that night, sleeping on the couch while Carter slept in the bed. Maybe things had felt good because they were supposed to feel good, but not because they actually were good. Maybe he’d been too stodgy and controlling. Maybe Carter’s fickle nature–and tendency to run around town fucking around with any man he took a liking to–was a way to try and push back against his daddy’s stasis. Maybe he’d gotten too comfortable. He’d been able to lie to himself, and tell himself he’d been happy–but had he been? Could he even know now, with changes afoot?

It took him hours to fall asleep, and he woke up late, feeling better–feeling lighter. Literally lighter, in fact, because he’d shed close to fifty pounds in the course of the night. Even more white had disappeared from his hair, replaced by a deep auburn. Carter said he liked it–and he sounded sincere. It made Wyatt feel a bit better about the whole thing, though the self-consciousness was new. Before, he’d never cared much what anyone thought of him, but now, he just felt so…nervous. Carter made them breakfast, while they discussed what would need to happen. It was less a matter of dividing their material things and figuring how to move Wyatt’s stuff across town–no, things came and went, as one needed them. Wyatt was certain that when he arrived at Levi’s apartment again, he’d feel right at home–it would feel like home because his things would already be there–his new things. New clothes, new toys, new everything, or old, depending on their condition, but new to him, at least. No–this was about goodbyes, the last moments he could spend with an old self, and with a young man he found himself recognizing less and less, in the morning sunlight.

“So…what’s he like?” Carter asked, “Silver daddy? Gruff? Leather bear?”

Wyatt blushed, “He’s, well, he’s definitely a daddy.”

“Well no shit–I could tell that much just looking at you. I haven’t seen someone change cub that fast since an old fuck buddy told me about a switch daddy he saw in a club once, go from 60 to 20 in thirty seconds flat.”

“That…I don’t think that’s possible.”

Carter shrugged, “Who knows? I never saw it myself, but I’ve seen stranger stuff, as have you, I’m sure.”

Wyatt tried to imagine what that would feel like–going through what was happening to him in less than a minute, how that would make his stomach churn. Then again, in the bar that night–how long had it taken him? Wyatt hadn’t even known what to make of Levi, how to understand his attraction to him. Before he’d even realized it, he’d been on his knees, sucking in his musky cock, his gut gone, feeling abs for the first time he could even fucking remember in his life. It hadn’t been a minute, but hell, it had been quick. He realized, then, just how static he’d been, for so long. Carter was the one always shifting, while Wyatt was almost always the same. Sure, he enjoyed a wild night or two at the leather bar on occasion, with or without the cub, and when he was there he could get pretty…fierce, but nothing like this. Nothing like he’d been with Levi.

“What’s up? You got really quiet. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s ok. It’s…personal.”

“No, I don’t mind talking about it, I just, it feels like forever since I went through this. I just thought…I thought I could be your daddy forever. I wanted to be your daddy forever.”

Carter looked like he wanted to laugh.

“What is it? Spit it out.”

“You don’t remember, do you? Who you were before us?” Carter asked, “I know everyone is different, and it’s always a bit strange to try and bring up. But I can remember you a bit from before–a bit better than I remember myself before you, actually, but I think…I think I changed less than you did. You were…” the pause grew longer, and Wyatt wasn’t sure if he was searching for words, or wondering if the words should be said at all. “Look, I’m actually really happy for you. You look good. You look happy, even though you are trying very hard to be serious right now.”

“But what are you going to do? I mean, I feel like I’m abandoning you. What about all of this?”

Carter did feel sad, but did his best to keep it away from his face. It wasn’t worth it, really, to be sad, or angry, or regretful. He did his best to live beyond that, because life in the city wasn’t kind to people who tended to get attached to anything–to people, to places. It was better to be fickle–but no one could deny having favorites…and Wyatt had been a favorite. Seeing him hurl himself into his life as a daddy with such force and confidence–it had terrified Carter, somewhat, the thought of being with someone so committed, but to his surprise, knowing he could come how to Wyatt, to a daddy who he knew would always be the same, it had given him more freedom, in some way. He could go out, be whatever he wanted, lose himself in the night, and by the time he got home, he’d be…safe. He would miss that. “Don’t worry about me. I was alright before you, and I’ll be alright after you.”

December Patreon Suggested Stories Ready to Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Hey all! If you’re looking for Christmas themed stories this year, here’s where they all are. We have a mall santa transformation, a twist on It’s a Wonderful Life, and a trio of Christmas revenge incest tales with all sorts of kinks thrown in! All it takes in $1 a month to get access to these, and all the other flash fiction suggestions I’ve written over the past few months. It also means you get the chance to offer up suggestions of your own at the beginning of each month.

December Patreon Suggested Stories Ready to Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon