November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Hey everyone! It’s that time on the month again, where if you support me on Patreon at any level, you can submit ideas for me to turn into short stories! You can find more details if you follow the link. One dollar a month gives you the ability to make suggestions, and it also gives you access to the stories once I post them later this month, as well as all the other suggested stories I’ve written in months past!

Also! For those who were curious, here’s the results of the poll from last week, where you all could vote for your favorite sketches.

1st Place: “Orwell’s Demon” (24 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Coach Ray Gets Trained” (16 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Subway” (16 Votes)
4th place: “Locker Room Spirit” (11 Votes)
Last Place: “Job Revenge” (9 Votes)

I’ll most definitely be writing an expanded version of “Orwell’s Demon” over the next couple months, and will also probably expand upon the longer version of “Coach Ray Gets Framed” that I started and left unfinished. If I have time, I’ll work on a longer version of subway as well! Thanks again for everyone who participated! I might start doing this on an occasional basis in the future–we’ll see!

Just a reminder, for everyone on Patreon, to get your suggestions in! I’ll be closing the box in a couple of days.

November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 2)

The next thing I know, I’m waking up in bed. My head is aching, I feel sick to my stomach, and I can’t remember much of anything from the night before–I don’t even know how I managed to get to bed. The only thing I do remember at all clearly is my uncle with his hands down my pants outside, once we were alone…and I remember…I remember how excited I was.

It feels so wrong, I know it’s wrong, but the more I think about it, the more I try and convince myself that what I’m feeling isn’t right…the more I remember, the more everything starts to just…come clear in my head. I can taste him, the cigar on his breath, feel the heat of it as he fills my lungs and I try not to cough, and I’ve wanted to taste him for so long and he’s finally here, and I can sense that he wants me just as much as I have always wanted him.

The night is cold, but with my back to the fire and my uncle’s hot cock slammed in my throat, I couldn’t be warmer or more satisfied. It’s my first time with anyone, and it’s a sloppy job, and he’s patient, but firm–warning me about teeth, helping me understand my gag reflex, praising me, and then hauling me up, dragging me inside, throwing me onto his bed (which my dad is absent from for some reason). His cock is still wet with my spit as he hauls off my pants, and I want him inside me, I want his cock in me more than anything, I’m begging for it, and fuck, it hurts. Still, he’s gentle, sliding it into be gently, lubing it up with more of his spit, drooled onto the shaft of his cock, and it isn’t too long before I’m open, his cock buried to the root, and I cum. I can’t hold it anymore, my cock starts to spasm and explode against the sheets beneath me, but my uncle is just warming up, and being fucked by him–I feel complete. I feel so…complete, and it’s all I wanted, all I ever wanted.

I shake my head and sit up in bed, trying to get rid of the images. It had to be a dream, some fucked up dream, but it was real, somehow I know it’s real.

“Finding out how much you enjoyed yourself last night, Evan? Cause I sure as hell enjoyed the hell out of your ass, boy.”

No–no, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t look, I couldn’t, but he reached out and touched me, a hand running down my back and thigh, making me shiver with need. “I…what if my dad finds out?”

My uncle laughed. “Don’t you worry about them, boy,” he said, and got out of bed beside me. “I gotta piss–and let’s see how your dad is doing with his nephew.”

I…I had no idea what that might mean, but when I saw what was happening in the other room…it wasn’t anything I might have imagined. There was my dad, with his face shoved in one of my cousin’s grungy boots, while my cousin was fucking him over the side of the bed–it was…disgusting, and I stepped back in horror, right into my uncle’s waiting arms. “See boy? We can have the whole day to ourselves, see?”

“What…what did you do to me last night?”

My uncle laughed, “Just finally getting what I want, boy, that’s all–and making sure that asshole brother of mine gets what he deserves too. Now come on–you want your uncle’s hot cock filling that hole of yours again, don’t you?” he reached around and groped my hard cock, “Sure feels like you do, boy.”

I did–I really did, but I pulled away, flung open the door to the other room, and yelled at my dad, telling him that we needed to get out of here, that my uncle–he was doing something to us…and the look my dad gave me when he looked up from that boot? I can’t tell you what I saw, behind the euphoria. It was…resignation. I looked to my nephew, and he too, had the same look. They knew–I was the last one to know. Had I just not realized it? Had I just been the last of his targets?

“Now now boy,” my uncle said, grabbing me by the wrist, “No need to disturb them while they’re having their fun. Now come on.”

I tried to tug away, but his grip was too tight–he hauled me close to him and kissed me, the stale smoke on his breath both vile and so sexy…and I melted into him with such relief I wanted to scream at myself. “Please, I don’t…want this, not really, please don’t do this to me…” I said.

“You got yourself a solid will, boy, I can admire that–but this isn’t about what you want, trust me. Now come on, I’m gonna have to punish you for being a bad, willful little bitch.”

He didn’t even wait until we were back in the other room–he just shoved me up against the wall in the hallway and drove his cock into my ass again. Thankfully it was still loose from the night before, but it still hurt so badly–so badly, and yet I wanted it. I could hear myself, the words falling out my mouth, loud enough that I knew my father could hear, begging my uncle to fuck me harder, and harder, and harder–and he did everything I asked, with plenty of gusto, until he filled my guts again. I wanted to cry, but instead I shot my own load all up and down the wall in front of me–and when he ordered me to lick it clean…I did.

While I cleaned the wall, my uncle went into the room, hollered at my cousin to hurry up and finish, because he needed some personal time with his dumbass brother. I tried to run, I tried to get up and run, but I had to lick up my cum, I had to–at some point, the same, strange stupor from the night before had fallen over me, and I couldn’t resist him–and I had a feeling that my uncle’s plans for us were just beginning.

November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Hey everyone! It’s that time on the month again, where if you support me on Patreon at any level, you can submit ideas for me to turn into short stories! You can find more details if you follow the link. One dollar a month gives you the ability to make suggestions, and it also gives you access to the stories once I post them later this month, as well as all the other suggested stories I’ve written in months past!

Also! For those who were curious, here’s the results of the poll from last week, where you all could vote for your favorite sketches.

1st Place: “Orwell’s Demon” (24 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Coach Ray Gets Trained” (16 Votes)
2nd Place (Tie): “Subway” (16 Votes)
4th place: “Locker Room Spirit” (11 Votes)
Last Place: “Job Revenge” (9 Votes)

I’ll most definitely be writing an expanded version of “Orwell’s Demon” over the next couple months, and will also probably expand upon the longer version of “Coach Ray Gets Framed” that I started and left unfinished. If I have time, I’ll work on a longer version of subway as well! Thanks again for everyone who participated! I might start doing this on an occasional basis in the future–we’ll see!

November Patreon Suggestions Open! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 1)

It wasn’t a trip I wanted to be on by any measure, it was one that my dad had told me I was going to go on, and that was that. Family bonding and all of that nonsense. What confused me the most about the entire thing was the fact that my dad fucking hated his brother–my uncle. He trashed him all the fucking time as some backwoods hick fucker–told me that if I didn’t get into college, I’d end up just like him and my dumbass nephew. Of course, all things considered, my uncle wasn’t doing that poorly–he’d gone into the military, and now he worked as a consultant for a defense contractor–he flew out to DC for meetings every few months, and did a lot of stuff remotely, but it could afford him a good house out in the sticks–and also gave my nephew the ability to sit on his ass all fucking day long.

They’d had some big falling out, around the time my uncle had gone into the military, and my dad had been preparing to go off to college. I…don’t know any of the details, but I know my dad hadn’t seen my uncle since. They talked on the phone occasionally, usually around holidays. The conversations were always…tense, even if it didn’t sound like they were talking about anything much, and when my dad put me on to talk to him, he always supervised the conversation for whatever reason. Then, grandpa died, and everyone went out for the funeral…and apparently he and my dad buried the hatchet, because now, all he can fucking talk about is this fucking hunting trip.

My dad has never hunted in his life. Well, he probably did when he was a kid–I know my grandpa was a big hunter, and my uncle has mentioned hunting trips in the past that he went on with him, though I can’t remember if he ever said that my father had gone along. In any case, I’ve never gone hunting, nor have I ever desired to. If anything, I think it’s kind of fucked up, to go out into the woods just to kill a thing and mount it on your wall. Still, my dad refused to take no for an answer, so we’re all packed up and driving the four hours to my uncle’s cabin for what my dad is promising will be a “real treat.”

No wi-fi, probably not even a bathroom–what the fuck? We arrive, and to my surprise, the place is actually fit for human habitation. It only has two bedrooms, so I have to bunk with my cousin…which is a bit awkward. I mean, I barely know him at all, and it doesn’t help that he’s in his thirties, while I’m still in the middle of college. He’s big fellow–probably close to 300 pounds, and when I get there, his shit is already thrown all over the room…and it stinks, honestly, like he didn’t even bother to wash any of his clothes before he came. I shove his shit over to his side, and drop my bag on the bed–it’s pretty late at this point, the sun is setting, so my uncle suggests we have dinner and relax a while…and that’s when things start to get a bit odd–or odder, I suppose, since the whole thing is still strange.

My dad…he seems really tense, and yet he seems happy to be here all the same. My cousin breaks into the beer and starts chugging away while my uncle cooks on the grill–I don’t think he says two words the whole time, just belches and chugs. My uncle offers me a beer, and I refuse–my dad, always a stickler in most cases insists I take it and when my uncle offers my dad a cigar, he lights the thing up eagerly. My dad. The militant non-smoker. Smoking a cigar. I don’t know what to say, and so I don’t say anything. We all eat, and my uncle starts a fire in the pit as it gets dark, and we crowd around it.

I finish one beer slowly, only to have another pressed into my hand. My dad gets up and says he’s tired from the drive and wants to go to bed–I try to go with him, but he and my uncle say I should stay up a bit more and hang out with my family–I hardly know them, right? But as soon as my dad is inside, my uncle gives my cousin a…a look, and he heaves himself up and heads inside too, swaying a bit drunkenly as he does, leaving my uncle and I alone in the dark, beside each other at the fire.

I don’t know what to say, but my uncle fills the silence naturally. His words…they have a real easy rhythm, you know? I’m just looking at the fire, staring at the flames dancing, and he’s talking to me, murmuring in my ear, and I don’t even really know what he’s saying anymore. I just feel…tired. Really tired. So tired I want to shut my eyes, but I have to keep staring at the flame, right?

I try to say something, I try to say I want to go to bed…and that’s when I realize something is really wrong with me. I can’t. I can’t do anything. I’m slumped in that chair, completely relaxed, and my uncle starts rubbing his hand over my body, feeling me up, and I’m trying to flinch away, I’m trying to say no, but all I do is groan. I groan…because it feels good. Really good. His hand is slipping lower, down into my pants now, and I’m disgusted but at the same time I want him to touch me so badly. I feel my eyes finally slipping shut, and as I do, I shudder, my cock exploding in my uncle’s hand, and the last things I hear him say, before I slip under, are:

“That’s a good boy, we’re gonna be real happy together, just you wait.”

Pigtown Daddies (Part 3)

“I’m…I’m not gonna say it. You can’t make me say it.”

Evan was coated in sweat, the marks on his back turning dark as the welts grew across. He’d lost track of the hours at this point, it had simple melded together into a blur of pain and pleasure–Barrett lashing him, Mick taunting him and fucking him with his dildo, promising him a real cock if he’d just admit it–admit that what Evan wanted, what he reall wanted, the reason he’d come back, was to be their boy, for real. But Evan wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction, if he could help it.

Barrett was panting a bit, and snapping the whip he was currently bringing down on the boy’s back. He cracked his neck and grunted, while Mick leaned in a bit closer to Evan, bringing his face close. “Boy–you don’t get it, do you? I don’t need you to ask for it, anymore. I just need you to admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Boy, now you’re just being obstinate.”

“I’m not your fucking boy, you fucker! Now let me the fuck out of here, you can’t fucking keep me in here, you’re asses are going to be in jail for the rest of your fucking life.”

“You gotta stop pretending boy, because now this is just silly. It was funny, at first, but now your daddies are starting to get…tired of your fatherfuckin’ shit.”

“You can’t do anything else to me, you dumbfuck, this is all you got. And you made me fucking like it! What the fuck did you expect?”

Mick just glared back.

“Jus’ fuckin’ show the boy, Mick,” Barrett said, frustrated, “I know ya like the reveal of it ‘n all, but he ain’t gonna git it ‘til he sees it.”

“Shut up Barrett.”

“Mick, yer just as fuckin’ bullheaded as the damn boy!”

“Not fucking in front of him!” Mick said, whirling on Barrett.

The argued for a bit, giving Evan a chance to catch his breath and try and regroup. It was…true, in a sense. He enjoyed this. He’d cum…fuck, he didn’t know how many times, but he didn’t want this to stop, he wanted his daddies to keep abusing him all fucking night long–

No–No, not daddies, why had he thought that?

“Fine, fucking fine, whatever–you’re fucking right, alright?” Mick said, and walked back to where Evan was bound to the cross, and he undid the chains holding him to the wooden cross. “Barrett says we could all use a little break, boy, so why don’t we all go have a drink? Then we can have some more fun.”

The bar–if they took him back to the bar, maybe he could escape out the door, if he was quick. He feigned exhaustion…but he didn’t have to fake much. His legs were rubbery, his back was screaming, and he still couldn’t really stand up straight because of the chain running from septum to glans. Still, the dim light of the bar was still a revelation to him, after so long in the red. Barrett went to the bar to get a round, while Mick directed Evan over to a table and sat him down, where Evan found he had a clear view of himself in a mirror stretching along the wall…and when he saw the image of himself there at the table with Mick, his jaw dropped, and he hauled his way out of the chair and over to the glass.

“The..what the fuck did you do to me?”

“I told you boy–I don’t need you to say it anymore,” Mick said, “We’re just waiting for you to admit it, finally.”

It wasn’t him, in the mirror. Not the person he’d been, at least. He was six inches shorter, or so, and quite a bit fatter. Arms and belly soft, the chain running tight against the curve of his gut to the smaller cock underneath the overhang. “I’m not…I’m not their boy, though…” he muttered to himself.

“Boy, git o’er here, ‘n sit down. Ya gotta take a break.”

“O…Ok daddy,” Evan muttered, and turned to where his daddies were sitting at the table, Barrett with three beers for them all, Mick looking like someone had spoiled his whole fun, and Barrett smiling warmly at him. He walked over, trying to sort out all of the thoughts and narratives in his head, but before he could get to his seat, Barrett grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into his lap, wrapping his arms around his boy, Evan gritting his teeth in pleasure at the sting of his daddy’s sweat against his flayed back.

“Feel good, boy?”

“Y-Yeah daddy…”

“That’s a good boy. Ya doin’ a’ight? Daddy wasn’t too rough, was he?”

“Daddy…ya…ya know ya can’t be too rough with me…right?”

Mick scowled a bit at them both, “My way is more fun, you know.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Barrett said, “but I think the boy’s been through enough, for a bit.”

“No way daddy! You can whip me some more, can’t you?”

“Heh–of course boy,” Barrett said, pulling his chubby pain pig closer. “I bet daddy Mick o’er there will lighten up once he gits his thick arm buried up that boy cunt, right boy?”

Evan looked at the door to the bar–he’d…he needed to leave, didn’t he? He’d planned on running, but why? He could remember…something, a vague something, but it had dissolved in the mirror behind him. He looked back at the mirror, and he thought, for a moment, he caught a glimpse of a man in the mirror, pounding at the other side, screaming, but a smack on the thigh from Barrett brought him back to what mattered, back to his daddies. “Yeah! Yeah, daddy Mick, you wanna fist me? I wanna feel that big fist in my hole way more than my dildo!”

Mick’s glower softened a bit, and he nodded. “Sure boy, I’ll fist you for sure. Fist you so fucking hard you spurt a load of boycum right out without even touching that cock of yours.”

Evan grinned, and bounced a bit on Barrett’s knee, rocking on the dildo as they drink, and when they finished, they went back into the red, and by morning, even the mirror had forgotten Evan had existed.

Pigtown Daddies (Part 2)

Evan tried to back away from them, but found his feet stuck to the floor–in fact, all of his body had frozen stiff, and he was aware that every eye in the red room had shifted to him, as Mick and Barrett circled him, predators eyeing a kill.

“What do you think Barrett? Didn’t expect him to come back for more–most don’t once they get a taste for it.”

“Well he didn’t exactly hang ‘round fer long–better make sure the boy can’t git away so easy this time!”

“Was pretty funny watching him get away though,” Mick said, “But point taken.”

Evan gasped sharply, as Mick reached out and pinched his nose–but it hurt much, much more than a pinch, he blinked rapidly, tears budding in his eyes, pulled his face away as best he could, but he couldn’t–something was connected from Mick’s hand to his nose. It took him a moment, in the light, to piece together what had happened–he had a ring in his nose, which had been the pinch, but also a thin chain was running through the ring, and the two ends of the chain were gripped in Mick’s fist a few inches from his face. Mick passed one end to his other fist, and with a laugh ran the chain back and forth through the new ring in Evan’s nose, the sensation of the chain rattling through making his shudder.

“Not gonna be going anywhere soon now, are you?”

“Please–please, I’m sorry, I–” Mick gave the chain a sharp tug with both hands, snapping his face down, and the sharp bite of pain made Evan’s cock throb.

“Shut up boy, and take it. Barrett–remove the boy’s shirt, please.”

Behind him, Barrett grabbed hold of Evan’s shirt, and tore it off him, and Mick took his hands down, the chains somehow growing as his hands moved, to Evan’s nipples, where with two pinches, he created two new rings and threaded the chain through them. Evan looked down, confused, and then up at Mick, who gave him a grin before tugging the ends of the chain up. Evan’s face snapped down towards his chest, but it could only go so far before the chain hauled his nipples up, and he panted, grunted and groaned in pain, eyes still watering. He tried to force his arms to do something, but they just hung limply at his sides–the one thing which was reacting was his cock–pain had never been something he’d enjoyed before, ever, but suddenly it was making him…incredibly horny.

“How’s the boy doing?” Mick asked Barrett, tugging the chains up another inch.

Barrett reached around and down the front of his jeans, groping his hard cock, “Boy’s gittin’ on real good, Mick–right boy?” He popped open the front of Evan’s pants and let them drop, and with only giving the chain a bit of slack, Mick brought the chain down to the head of Evan’s erect cock and with a final pinch, a thick gauge PA appeared in the head, the chain running through it, his cock tugged up painfully against his chest. Evan found the length was much too short to give him any chance at rest–he either had to bow his head down to release some of the pressure on his nipples and cock, or if he wanted to look up, he had to bear with the chain tugging roughly on his cock.

“Don’t cry boy, take your punishment like a man, since that’s what you want to be.”

Evan could move again, at least, and with his hands he ran his hands over the chain, but he couldn’t find any link in the chain where he could unattach it–it was a solid string of metal. “How…how the fuck do I get this off?”

Mick laughed, “Boy–that’s your punishment. Who said you could take it off?”

I have…I have to go to work, I can’t, fucking live like this!”

“Says the fuckin’ boy wit’ a ten inch dildo plugged in his hole–seems ya got along good wit’ that all day, didn’t ya boy?” Barrett said, pulling Evan close to him, grinding his crotch into his ass, thrusting against the base of the dildo, making Evan groan and leak.

“You can’t…you can’t just leave me like this, you fuckers!”

“Oh, we aren’t done with you yet boy–trust me,” Mick said, and shoved Evan over to the wall, watching him stumble and try to avoid tugging too hard on his cock as he struggled out of his pants. Together, they forced him up against one of several St. Andrew’s crosses along the wall, face to the wood, and with a few manacles and chains summoned from his gloves, Mick had Evan well secured to the posts.

“Don’t worry boy, you want this–you really do. That’s the worst part, isn’t it? That you’re enjoying this?”

Evan tried to look back and see what was happening, but all he could do was catch glimpses of Barrett wielding a leather flogger, swinging it around in his hands, red light glinting off the brute’s teeth. He flung the flogger, lashing across Evan’s back, and he cried out and arched back in pain, tugging on his cock and nipples at the same time, pain flooding through his body…but Mick was right. He…he did want this. Barrett lashed out again, and this time he did want it. It only took six of them before he felt his cock spasm, cum spewing out around his new PA, some of his splattering against the wooden cross in front of him, but much of it running back down the front and sides of his cock and dripping from his balls, Barrett taking a break so Mick could come up and toy with the dildo in his hole, giving it a few brisk thrusts, enough to make his ass spasm slightly as he shook.

“Best part about punishing boys, you know, is how much they like it. You do like it, don’t you boy?”

Sobbing, Evan nodded.

“We could stop, you know, if you want. Do you want it to stop?”

Evan didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he wanted.

“Say it boy, say what you want.”

“I…I want…” Evan swallowed, “I want it to stop, please…”

“Only one way to make it stop, boy,” Mick said, “But you seem smart, if a bit bullheaded–maybe you’ll figure it out in a couple of hours.”

Pigtown Daddies (Part 1)

What choice did he have, really? He had to get this…thing out of him. Well, that wasn’t really the issue, Evan supposed, the issue was that he couldn’t get himself to leave it out of him. He’d been at the bar last night–the usual bar–but on the way home, he’d ended up…somewhere else. He didn’t remember much through the hangover and blackout, but he did remember the name–Pigtown. What had happened there…he only had a vague collection of memories, but what he did know was that when he’d woken up in his bed this morning, he’d had the thing in him.

The dildo.

The massive fucking dildo.

It had to be at least nine inches long, and thicker than a beer can–he’d felt the pressure in his ass when he’d woken up, along with the raging hard on, and when he’d tried to pull the thing out in disgust, he’d gotten it most of the way–but then his hand had plunged it back in, and he’d groaned, stroking himself off and fucking himself until he came in his bed. Horrified by what he’d done, he managed to get the dildo out long enough to take a shit, but after that, his hole had started to itch, and before he could even think too hard about it, he’d grabbed the dildo and slid it back inside him with a gasp–and that alone had started another round of fucking himself until he came.

The whole day had gone on like that–Evan trying to pull the dildo out, and when he rarely succeeded, trying to keep it out, and his hands working against him to get it back inside him and jack off almost constantly when it was. He didn’t understand it, but somehow he knew that Pigtown had been the start of it, and it might be where he can get the thing out.

The bar wasn’t particularly crowded, with plenty of seats, but Evan didn’t take one–he was afraid any pressure might get him started again, and looking around at the clientele, this…wasn’t the place a straight guy wanted to get caught with a dildo in his hole. Still, he didn’t recognize anyone, but he made his way to the bar to ask the hefty bartender if he knew anything. It turned out that he didn’t even have to ask, “Back so soon boy? You seemed pretty eager to get out of here last night. Ready to take Mick and Barrett up on the offer?”

“I–look, I don’t know who they are, but I…I have…did they do something to me? Last night?”

“Can’t get it out, eh?” the bartender said with a wink, and Evan flushed a deep red. “Don’t be embarrassed–the whole bar saw it.”

That didn’t help Evan feel much better.

“Look, you should go talk to them. If you ask real nice, they might help you out. They headed deeper not too long ago. You’ll find them, I’m sure.”

Deeper. He hadn’t noticed, but what he had assumed was the back wall of the bar wasn’t a wall at all–it was just dark. Walking stiff, he headed into the dark, feeling his way around a couple of bends, before emerging in a red-lighted chamber, where there were considerably more people, and considerably more sex going on that Evan was comfortable with. Mick and Barrett–who the fuck were they? He didn’t recognize anyone, even as his eyes adjusted to the light, but then came the whistle. He looked over, and two hulking muscle men, not too much older than him, were standing against the wall, waving him over. “Back so soon boy?” One of them called, “I thought you weren’t even gonna step foot in here again, from the tone ya had last night.”

The other one chuckled, “Nah, I told ya he was just bluffin’, Mick–he wanted it, he’s just playin’ hard tah get.”

Evan walked over, still a bit stiff, and the two men chuckled. “What the fuck did you do last night? Why the fuck can’t I get this…this thing out of my ass!”

“Easy boy,” Mick said, “We just gave you a choice is all–be our boy, or…well, you know what the other option is, don’t you?”

“Ya sure seemed tah like it last night, when we was poundin’ yer hole with it fer an hour, while everyone else was watchin’!”

“Well I don’t want to…to be your whatever, and I sure as hell don’t want this thing inside me, so let me fucking take it out already!”

“That ain’t the way the deal works, boy,” Mick said, and before Evan could do anything about it, one of his meaty hands slapped his ass, right on the butt of the dildo, forcing it in a bit further, and Evan moaned, his cock pulsing.

“But since ya came back,” Barrett said, “We gets tah make another deal with ya–how’s that sound? Two choices, either ya become our boy, or ya take yer punishment again, and like it, of course.”

“I’m not gonna be your fucking boy, you fucking creeps!” Evan said, “Now get this thing out of me, you fuckers, or I’ll make you fucking faggots take it out.”

“Ya hear that, Mick?”

“‘Sure do Barrett.”

“Boy still don’ wanna be our boy.”

“Guess that means he’s gonna have to take his punishment again–such a naughty boy.”

69 Votes! Nice.

You all still have a few more days to vote in my sketch poll! You can find it here. You don’t have to be contributing to my patreon to vote, but you do have to make a free profile. You have until Halloween or so to vote.

Also, it has come to my attention that I already did an extension of Coach Ray Gets Trained earlier, but I left it unfinished! You can find the six part story here. I do have some ideas on how to continue it, so if you’d like to see more of that, you can vote for more!

Wesley Bracken is creating Queer MC/TF Erotica | Patreon

Just a reminder for everyone that you only have a couple of days left to respond to my poll! All it takes to answer is making a free profile on Patreon–no donation required. I’m going to be taking the top two or three results and turning them into longer stories of their own–not simply extensions of the sketch itself. If you can’t choose just one, you can pick more than one story in the poll as well! Feel free to leave any suggestions for them as a comment under the poll, or you can always message me here, reply to this post, or drop an ask in my box.

Wesley Bracken is creating Queer MC/TF Erotica | Patreon

Choose Your Favorite Sketch! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Hey all! I’ve opened up the poll for you to choose your favorite sketches from the last week!

THE POLL IS OPEN TO EVERYONE!!!

That means that even if you aren’t supporting me, you can still vote in the poll. Further, you can vote for multiple stories if you so choose, if it’s too hard for you to pick a favorite. The poll will close at midnight (PST) on Halloween, so you have a few days to make your decisions!

Choose Your Favorite Sketch! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon