Author Notes on The Catch Up

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.

    Link to the story in question

    This story was special because I took all of my normal story beats and themes of my regular posts and I flipped them all on their heads.

    The themes I was going for in this post was public exhibitionism and forced socialization. The twist was the protagonist, and reader, was not the sub but an outsider looking into the bdsm scene. Then going on about the emotions of being caught off guard on how odd and bizarre it all could be if you are just looking at it at face value, with the hopes that those reactions are what the exhibitionist subs want to see as a reaction.

    Because it was a cliche and I love using cliches, I started off with a missed connection text that led to a rekindling of an old friend that in turn led the protagonist to, of course, a coffee shop. I personally just love coffee shops as a real life location, it's such a fantastic place for drinks, snacks and friends!

    Leading to the reveal, I built up the protagonist being a tad excited and uncertain with the reader fidgeting with the coffee cup. Then to establish this Sam person I had a moment where the reader went down memory lane to remember what the old Sam looked and acted like in the past along with the nickname, “Shy Sam”.

    All that to establish the backstory, all to be broken when the dom makes his entrance. For the later named Dom, Xander, I just described a stereotypical biker dom. Xander’s main purpose was to create a shock and red herring for the true reveal of Sam.

    I actually imagined Shy Sam post transformation first and then reverted his looks to be more normal and boring, like the blonde buzzed hair to moppy brown and the piercings.

    That change of a person was the initial kernel idea around this whole story post. Showing off how the entrance and the acceptance of a subculture can do fantastic things for one's self esteem. Common examples of this can be seen with people joining clubs or culture groups, like how a student might join a theater or sport club at school or how adults get invested in the culture of games or pop bands.

    For Sam's personality I wanted his own self esteem to be reflected with how he was initially timid when Sam walked over to the table. Then I tried to write to him gaining confidence whenever he got to talk about his new bdsm hobby and then deflating when the conversation was brought back to topics outside of his element during the conversation. In fact it was revealed that the reason for the meeting was because he was ordered to do so, to open and expose himself to all he had a crush on before meeting Xander.

    The story also parallels as a twisted take on a ‘coming out’ story since it can be nerve racking talking about sexuality and doubly so when talking about taboo kinks. Because I enjoy writing a happy ending for my story, it just so happened that the reader is also into BDSM and would totally be down for the improbable situation and ludicrous offer that was sprung on him. For suspense I made the reader be so stunned that his non answer was a response so it looked like Sam got rejected before the reader spoke up and accept at the last possible minute.


    If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:

    Author Notes on The Pig Show

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.


    Link to the story in question

    This was another gift story for a friend of mine, he wanted a feeder story with a dash of humiliation baked into it. Since this was the first time I have ever covered this topic, I felt like I had to cover a lot of the basics and foundational stuff of the genre before I got to the story I wanted to tell.

    See I'm fortunate enough with the ‘handler and sub’ stories because they are all the same type of the basic bdsm story, so i never have to re-explain the basic stuff or constantly introduce characters and their descriptions. With those I can just jump straight into the action of the story. But with new topics I feel obligated to go and cover all the basic details like in Spray on Suit and Adoptable Dog.

    I studied the feeder/gainer community, just like what I did with the ADBL community for my diaper stories, all to find the most common and appealing tropes and memes about that niche. I found the ideas of stuffing to the max, eating fatty foods, and engaging in hedonistic activities. Some members prefer the idea of giving up the power to someone else on how they should be eating and at what rate, along with the appeal of the physical aspect, consequences, and effect of the extra pounds on their bodies, it’s like constant bondage in it’s own way.

    With all that knowledge I started the story with Tobin and the sub meeting on a kinky chat room and leading into the introduction of feedee content with restaurant meals and food dates. Following that I introduced the increasing power and control that Tobin had over the sub as the story moved on to cooking from home and then finally graduating to the weight gain shakes, because its another trope of the niche. It’s like a staple of their content.

    For escalation for going towards the extreme, I included another common trope, a popped button and that allowed me to create an excuse for Tobin to up the ante from just food to the graduation of shakes and feeding tubes

    With the shakes came the public display photos being shared in chatrooms, that -like the call back to @_the_caged_maid story, which I meant it as relinquishing more control of the sub's online presence to Tobin. I tried to present it as public exhibitionism but with more welcomed comments, encouragement and money to be funneled back into the sub. No pun intended.

    As a bit of fantasy fame, the donations and fan support Tobin was able to keep his pantry stocked as well as having the funds to use remote delivery services to constantly send the sub hot meals at any time of the day while at work. An inspiration for the rising popularity of ubereats in American during this hellish pandemic. All this excess feeding was all for the by build up to the fabled ‘big event’.

    Finally after fifteen paragraphs that established the concepts of the feeding, the shakes, the change to the body, it was time for the main story that I wanted to tell.

    To build suspense for the big event I had the sub fast for the day to build up the suspense and desire to eat. I wanted the big event that remained shrouded in mystery and only to be revealed one step at a time. From getting on the bed, getting tied up (with a small background story that involved it’s donation and fame), the Totally-Not-Gatorade jug with the tube at the base  and the with the phone lighting up as Tobin starts talking to the online audience.

    For the Audience of the broadcast and for the reader Tobin then describes the main events for the rest of the story, the thing it has all been leading up to: an interactive live broadcast of the sub doing nothing but being chained down and stuffed with whey shakes until he is filled to the brim. Then after some digesting fill the sub back up with a renewed tub of shake over and over again. To induce more humiliation I wrote it as a live show to go along with it and encourage the viewers and sub.

    For a point of realistic fantasy I wrote that Tobin had calculated how much the sub could eat before hitting his limit and made sure to always provide just the right amount of shake to make sure that he never overate or caused damage as he was pushed to his limit. Following the first time hitting the limit there was some play time with the stream, via humiliation comments, body writing and because of the common stream trope, there was fundraising to extend the stream as the sub was working through the first meal.

    When Tobin left it provided an opportunity for a bit of fun with the sub putting on a silly show with the limitation placed on him to maybe entertain the people by himself. Which was added to show that the sub in on the plan as well. From there I just let the cycle repeat over and over again for the entire day, all while also providing hints of realism with bathroom breaks because I know how biology works.

    It ended with the show ending and waddling out of the bedroom, with moments of Tobin coming in to provide assistance and aftercare as he fetched him Pjs and brought the sub to the couch.  Per my writing style, I ended the post with a stinger for a potential continuation of the story with the idea of 'paying off' the rest of bought time for continuing the stream.

    It was a new story and I went ham on not only because of the new topic and because it was a gift to someone. Just like the Mall Trip: The Movie and the Rubber Factory I went above and beyond because I wanted to knock it out of the park and hit all the buttons.

    I was told privately that I did.


    If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:                                                                                                                                                                                                            

    March's Story Poll 2023 Heads up

    This post is just to highlight a new Story Prompt Poll that’s currently live on my Patreon! The topics to vote on this month are:

    -NFC kink scanner

    - Gambling with chastity

    -Joining a club (contract)

    The poll is for Avid Readers ($10/month tier) if interested or already a member, the link to the voting is right here:


    Thank you all for your continued support

    Service to your handler [Twine Story]

    Instead of a typical text post, I have a choose your own adventure story for you to read through.

    It can be found [Here]

    If you liked it, please share this with your friends and even consider donating to my Patreon.

    I hope you enjoy it.

    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month, you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:            

    Author Notes on Patreon Suggested Story: January (2021)

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.


    Link to the story in question

    For this story I tried to get back to my roots of my earlier stories, with an opening depiction of the sub doing non-sexy domestic choirs and making a breakfast spread as the sub waits for the dom to inform him of what’s on the agenda for that day.

    For the agenda of that day, the dom decided to lend out the sub to a friend, Jerry, who needed a model for this start up online adult toy shop. Jerry was meant to be a small character but because of his impact on the story he needed characterization, so I introduced him as an ambitious small business owner. The sort of person with a history of using the sub to test out the newest prototype adult toys and order the sub to give his honest impressions and in depth review of the toys from the sessions. Hopefully I framed him as one of those owners of a start up that is always thinking about the company and using every opportunity to further the company products with self advertising and getting feedback from wherever he can get it.

    The theme I was aiming for this story was publicly lending out the sub and public exhibitionism. As we have seen with the dom so ready to give the sub up for a day, followed by the idea and premise of the photoshoot with the new inventory and equipment.

    After a ride across town, where the dom exerted his control and kept the sub on his toes by only telling him where to go by replying the instructions one step at a time with no foreknowledge. I used the withholding of knowledge to build suspense as another example of some out-of-bedroom power control and exchange.

    Because this fictional company is a start up, we go back to the setting of warehouse complexes again. For the inside of the warehouse I wanted it to clash between a standard inventory warehouse, with boxes and boxes of all the products everywhere and a makeshift studio and make up set for the pictures.

    For the sake of realism and public display I had the people initially present be; Jerry, the stage crew, camera and lighting staff and hee make up people. All done to add just enough people into the scene to legitimise the photoshoot, compared to the slightly skeezy alternative of just being Jerry with his camera.

    With the additional studio staff I had time for Jerry to get his make up crew to get the sub prepped up for his debut with a full body make up session. I haven’t ever done makeup before but I have heard that it is a real confidence booster for men. I tried to reflect that notion through the sub’s own internal comments about how he looked. I also included a moment, just like in the Rubber Factory where the two workers weren’t really talking to the sub and instead gave more focus on their work than the person.

    Personally speaking I deeply respect and value privacy so as a compromise to a full exposed body for the photoshop I gave the sub, and readers, some animosity by having the sub be given a new leather pup hood with sunglasses to obscure the eyes. Once again I have not checked if a pup hood like that exists in real life but i wouldn’t be surprised if it did, it seems like a cool product.

    Once ready it was time for the photoshoot to begin starting against a basic backdrop. For the toys I tried to hit everything on checklist from in toy album on an online stores, not only the fun and exotic toys but the mundane stuff like movie props, character statues and promotional products: That includes posing, lots of angles, body shots, mock action shots, and of course the most common trope of all having the toy standing tall against a red -regular sized- soda can, of one the most common method to depict scale, everyone does it.

    As the whole thing was meant to be light and fun, even confidence building when the sub got into the swing of things. Soon Jerry and his crew ran out of inventory on the table and just when the sub thought that the experience wasn’t that bad, it was when the other shoe dropped, and it is revealed that the sub was only half done as two big burly dudes enter on to the set to manhandle the sub for the real action shots.

    Thus begin the second half of the photoshoot that consists of filming the toys entering into the sub for the online store. For added suspense and playful agony the sub even got to be unlocked and spent the rest of his time teetering on the edge as they went through the entire inventory yet again, like an extreme remix experience.

    When it was finally done the dom greeted the used sub sipping a cup of coffee, implying that he left the sub unsupervised at some point and through the excitement of it all the sub couldn’t pinpoint when it actually happened, nor was he aware to even notice it.

    Because I write most of my stories with happy endings for the sub, I had Jerry give the sub a parting gift of some of the cleaned toys that was used for the set along with the pup hood as a form of payment and thanks.

    And of course I left the story open with a stinger comment that the sub is already scheduled to return for the telethon broadcast for the promotional launch event, which is another idea that I have been thinking of for a while. ***

    If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:  

    Author Notes on The Kiss

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.


    Link to the story in question

    This was a gift/request from a friend. This friend wanted a story focused all on the topic of kissing and frotting with speedos as well as light bondage play. This story was the first time I covered either kissing and frotting and there was worry on my end that the limited amount of words to describe the act of kissing would result in me using the same words and make it sound repetitive and redundant by the end of the story.

    Another new thing about this story, this friend gave me two fully fleshed out characters (at time of writing unique to this story) with their own brief physical description. That alone was a slight challenge for me to incorporate into the story without including a ref/stat sheet at the beginning of the post but I think I did a pretty good job weaving in and sprinkling both characters traits into the story without it being a massive flow breaking monologue when both were introduced.

    Fun Fact: I actually enjoy kissing and this story drew upon my own well of personal experience and perspective of giving kisses. To the point where almost all of the kissing actions I described have been things that I have given.

    For the sake of convenience I started the story in media res with the apartment door barging open and then fading back to the set up of who and what these characters are. It was done to set up the action promised later but to also give my sanity a break from crafting a slower burn story that I normally do if I started laying out the scene at the beginning.

    As for the setting I created a setting where it was the first day that both Theo and Sean saw each other after a long business trip (I added the business trip to clarify that these characters are over 18), and as the phrase goes, absence makes the heart grow stronger.

    To show off that the main protag, Theo, was serious about this reunion I included the line that depicted him pruning and modeling his hair before heading to the airport and it also further established character and design.

    After the lines about meeting at the gates and grabbing Sean’s bags they were able to get to a place where the real kissing action can take off, inside their apartment. I took the standard and established kissing action I used at the airport and transit and added groping to the mix to kick up the heat between them. With their lips occupied by the kissing I decided to use the subtle art of body language, via aggressive hip thrusting, for Theo to tell Sean to get into the bedroom.

    Once in the bedroom, I decided to give a more realistic depiction of how two equally sized people would try to lift and carry another onto the bed. That is to say, a few staggering steps before giving out, following a moment for each to reposition themselves as they undress.

    To make the kissing interesting I viewed the act less of an action and more like a compliment to everything else going on, one way or another. The act of removing a coat opens up more areas to kiss on their arms, lip locking was done to highlight the more intimate moments as well to savor the other’s presence. And during the drive I used kissing as how one would passionately steal kisses or slide quick forms of affection to another person.

    The removal of the pants brought to light the other main feature of this post: Speedos!

    Normally I’m against using brand names in my stories. If the companies aren't going to be paying me, there’s no reason for me to give them advertisements with brand recognition within my stories. But the speedos were very important to the friend so I made an expectation.

    Speedos were also a new material to me that I was not quite familiar with but thankfully said friend already had quite the wardrobe and experience so after I interviewed him about the appeal and asked him to describe the sensation I had enough to work with to capture it all perfectly with my own words.

    I felt like there needed some conflict, so I had Sean trying to remove his restrictive speedo before Theo had his own fill of the speedo frottage experience. Which was when I decided to introduce the interrupting. After a few moments of  batting away the hands, it was time to lock them away, with the inclusion of eye contact for flirty communication. Theo then had everything he wanted to fully enjoy himself until he was ready to move on from frotting. For that I use the breaching over the waist seam which shows that he’s properly ready and offers a simple segue to the proper sex.

    Fun Fact: That friend showed me the totally real pair of speedos with the zipper in the back. No I didn't make it up for the story, it is a real product and I was as shocked as you were when I saw it.

    Speaking of the action, because of the location of the zipper it would be realistic to require the characters to take a small break after the kissing to reposition themselves yet again. In a bit of extra tension and suspense I paused the action to include the spider walk with the fingers, taking extra sure to include the body parts that the hand passed, step by step as i moved towards the highly anticipated zipper.

    The actual action came and went pretty quickly all things considered but It did end in one more passionate kiss and sweet whispers in the ear.

    This might be the closest I got to writing passion and romance on my blog based on my own perspective of kissing, not just how it was written and how it was used to enhance the other actions. It was nice, definitely a good trip out of my comfort zone to write more intimate things and show it without writing the internal emotional strife that accompanies most of my other stories. ***

    If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:  

    Patreon Suggested Story: January 2023

    This story topic was voted on by the wonderful Avid Readers on my Patreon! For January’s poll the winning story prompt was “Magic Pup Hood (brain drain)”

    Charlie swung open the front door, kicked off his sneakers against the closest wall, and quickly made his way up the flight of stairs, going all the way down the second floor hallway. Without any announcement or knocking, Charlie opened the door. He whipped his coat off and dumped his bag on the floor as he crashed onto the chair. Charlie then spun the chair around to face the TV, which was depicting an in-progress tank videogame match. 

    “Hey Charlie,”

    “Sup Max,”

    Charlie rummaged in his backpack and pulled out two cans of soda. He gently tossed one onto the nearby bed, where Max naturally caught it with one hand while the other hand was still glued to the controller, his eyes still locked on the TV.

    “Thanks man,” Charlie cracked open his can, took a swig, and let out a deep sigh as he turned his attention to the screen to witness Max maneuver his tank to dodge an incoming missile and return fire.

    “Long shift?” Max asked as both of them remained focused on the game.

    “Yeah,” Charlie answered with another sigh, “the project’s deadline is coming up and my co-workers are practically useless.” “That sucks,” Max answered as he blew up another enemy off the map.

    “Yeah, just the baggage that comes with the job,” Charlie said in a slightly defeated tone.

    Charlie and Max have been best friends since middle school and throughout the years their favorite activity was hanging out and playing video games at either of each other’s houses.

    It was remarkable that both of them were able to maintain their friendship throughout the years of schooling and even both going into adulthood when Max and Charlie both got their own full-time jobs, they were still available to hang out. 

    Charlie took another sip of his soda as his eyes scanned the room, taking in the decor.

    A part of Max’s life journey involved him discovering, exploring, and accepting his own sexual interests. Max was never obnoxious about his interest but never shied away from accepting that it was a part of him. A part of Charlie’s life journey involved becoming used to it, even if it was not his thing.

    As a result of Max’s journey and the paychecks from his job, Max has acquired a truly impressive amount of kink gear within recent years. 

    Charlie already knew that Max’s closet was filled with more gear and tools than an average CIA integration room and Max was courteous enough to keep that door closed.

    But Max’s limited closet space was no match for his unlimited desire, which resulted in some of his tamer accessories being displayed around the bedroom. Along with the framed posters of kink art, there were various accessories displayed on styrofoam heads on the desks and drawers. 

    As Charlie's eyes naturally scanned the risque decor as Max kept his focus on the game at hand. It was then Charlie’s eyes landed upon a new addition to the room, a thing that Max once described as a ‘pup hood’ display next to Max’s bed. The hood looked like it was made of neoprene with brown snout and ears against a black base of the head.

    It was not Max’s first pup hood, nor the first one that Charlie has seen but what caught his attention was the sheen on the hood. Reflecting off the overhead lights, the black pup hood had an octarine color that enticed Charlie. No matter where Charlie redirected his vision or focus on the game, his eyes would always gravitate towards that item.

    After a few more matches Max finally acknowledged the elephant in the room

    “saw my newest purchase? Just arrived the other day,” Max said as he exited the game and put down the controller.

    Max then plunked the styrofoam display off the table and tossed the entire thing, underhanded, to his friend. Charlie fumbled a bit on the catch but was able to recover. With a firm grasp on the item, he quickly repositioned the foam head so that the hood would face him.

    Now in his hands, Charlie could feel the soft, almost plush neoprene under his fingertips. From this close-up with the hood and that magical sheen seemed to be more predominant.

    Max just watched on for a minute as Charlie remained transfixed on the object in his hands.

    “You can try it on if you like, I won’t judge,” was all that Max said.

    As Max was already giving permission, Charlie’s fingers were crawling down the pup hood to peel off the hood from the white styrofoam base.

    Soon Charlie was holding the limp hood in his hands, staring into the hood’s opening at the bottom, staring into the darkness as he brought it closer to his face.

    Charlie closed his eyes, lowered his head as he pressed the opening against his forehead, and stretched it over his head in one motion. The smelly/scent of neoprene filled his nose as the hood clung tight against his entire head.

    The compression felt good.

    Charlie aligned the hood against his face and opened his eyes and looked around the room.

    Everything looked the same but off in some intangible way.

    Charlie turned his head until Max was in view, who was looking back with a bemused look on his face.

    “Hey, that looks pretty good on you,” 

    Something about that statement tickled something inside of Charlie, which caused him to blush and cast his eyes down.

    Max noticed that and with a growing grin, he repositioned himself on the bed to better face Charlie.

    “What? You make a cute puppy dog,” Max said in a teasing tone.

    That compliment landed a critical hit within Charlie, as something inside of him revved up again as he felt his face heat up under the neoprene.

    Charlie was so blindsided, not just by the praise but by how it made him feel that it derailed all his previous trains of thought, all he could only focus on Max’s words and his own reaction. Charlie turned his head away from both in silent protest and in trying to hide the fact that Max was getting to him.

    That only played more into Max’s hand as he continued to deliver a barrage of benign compliments towards Charlie with how good he looked in the pup hood.

    Each comment was accompanied by a wave of delight that pushed out any worry or other negative thoughts. That delight then seeped into the empty space, and soon his brain was drowning in the chemical and compliments

    It was not a total surprise that during the playful banter of Max’s compliments and Charlie's silent deflection, it eventually led to Chalire letting out a small, yet audible, ‘arf,’ from his mouth.

    That caused Max to stop his verbal teasing dead in its tracks.

    Charlie’s own body froze, as all those endorphins dried up with embarrassment replacing it as he was processing what he just did. 

    A pregnant pause hung in the air between the two of them.

    Between the uncertain moment, Max busted out laughing in genuine amusement.

    “Oh man,” Max said between laughs, “You’re really feeling it, huh?”

    Charlie, whose face was beet red under the pup hood, was already in the process of moving his hands up to take off the mask before Max interrupted him.

    “No no no, it’s alright, here,” Max said as he hastily crawled towards the edge of the bed, while outstretching his hand out, miming the scratching motions with his fingers. 

    Charlie hesitantly looked back at Max and then his eyes shifted towards the outstretched hand and wiggling fingers. Despite that this was the first time in this situation, something deep inside of him knew what he wanted to do next.

    Slowly, hesitantly at first, Charlie began to turn his body back towards Max and then angled his head down to meet his friend’s outstretched hand and leaned into Max’s palm.

    As Charlie made contact with Max's palm, his fingers began to gently scratch the pup hood with his fingertips. The sensation of Max’s scratches through the neoprene was nothing less than euphoria.

    The torrent of pleasure overcame Charlie, as he closed his eyes, flushing everything else out of his mind. Everything except Max's hand. Charlie closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh of relief as his body completely relaxed/engaged in a full-body relaxation.

    All of Charlie's stress and worry seemed to flow out of him, replacing it only with thoughtless bliss. 

    Charlie heard Max further reposition himself on the bed but as his curiosity mounted to the point where he was about to open his eyes, he felt Max’s other hand come in to cup the other side of his head and began scratching.

    The euphoric feeling doubled. Charlie kept his eyes closed as his mind allowed the sensation to fully engulf him.

    From that Charlie let out another deep moan of relief that he had inadvertently been holding on to since he left the office. All the worries that Charlie had about deadlines and co-workers at work all melted away as Max continued his scratches. As the negativity released, it naturally transformed into a pleased growl once it passed Charlie's throat and left his mouth.

    “Oh, what a good puppy,” Max cooed, following it up with an earnest, “yes you are.”

    “You just wanted to be a puppy, don’t cha?” he asked in a reassuring tone.

    Charlie did, he did want to be a puppy. Nothing else mattered besides his moment and Max’s scratching. Charlie answered the question by pushing his head further into Max’s palm.

    Max continued his scratches, moving from the ears, top of the head, and down the next to the edge of the hood. As Max continued, Charlie vaguely recognized that one of his feet was thumping on the floor. 

    “Oh, you’re really in it now, huh?” Max asked


    “Then you gotta get off the chair puppy dog, that’s for people to sit in.”


    With that statement,  Charlie slid off the chair, and straight onto the floor, sitting on all four on the floor as his head tilted up, looking up at Max on the bed. 

    From down there, Charlie saw Max swing his legs off the bed and stand tall over him. It felt right.

    As Charlie took in the sight from his perspective, his eyes naturally moved from Max’s face down the rest of his body. Charlie's eyes moved past his neck and his shirt until they reached Max's pants. 

    At his waist, through the jeans, Charlie saw the imprint of an erection pressed against the demine. 

    It was his bone.

    Charlie’s mouth instantly began to water at the sight and soon began to loudly lick his lips.

    Max picked up on the intent and chuckled, “you want it boy? Well be warned, if you take it, there’s no going back from this.”

    Charlie let out an impatient, ‘wuff!’

    Charlie did not understand or cared about anything that followed the question, he was too preoccupied with the bone that was right in front of him, just out of reach. 

    “Well then,” Max said as he placed one hand on Charlie’s head while the other one reached down to his waist, “Let's make this version of you the permanent one.”

    Max unzipped his pants and Charlie began to pant with excitement. As Max parted the denim, Charlie got a glimpse of some colorful designer underpants. With one simple motion, Max reached under his elastic and flopped his cock and balls out.

    Charlie's eyes became transfixed on the cock.

    Max laughed and proceeded to gently bounce it just out of reach of Charlie and began to drool out of the corner of his mouth. 

    “You want it, boy? You want to bone?”


    “Stay… stay,” Max commanded as he inched closer to Charlie’s face, “… and go!” 

    Imminently Chalire pounced and wrapped his lips around Max’s cock and began sucking. Charlie closed his eyes with delight as his tongue wrapped around the cock and savored the taste of it.

    Max moaned, reached down, and patted the top of Charlie's head, ‘good boy’.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author Notes on this post and others.

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    The link:

    Thank you for reading and for your support                                    

    February 2023 Patreon Story Poll heads up

    This post is just to highlight a new Story Prompt Poll that’s currently live on my Patreon! The topics to vote on this month are:

    -Love Potion

    - Hidden public bondage (covert public play)


    The poll is for Avid Readers ($10/month tier) if interested or already a member, the link to the voting is right here: 


    Thank you all for your continued support

    The Door

    You first encountered the door in the small bathroom of a pizza parlor with friends. It was a plain white wooden door with a shiny brass door knob, set right into the opposite wall of the toilet. 

    When you saw it, it stopped dead in your tracks. 

    You knew what it was.

    You did not know how or why but you knew that door was an undeniable fact.

    Dread descended upon you as your breath began to quicken. Your eyes instantly locked in it, trying to take in every possible detail of the seemingly innocuous door.

    The door just stood there with a presence of total absoluteness. Unchallengeable.

    After a still moment, you tore your eyes away from the door and willed yourself to move, to turn towards the sink. You washed your hands and left the bathroom, returning back to your friends at the table.

    You spent the next few days, and nights, on edge as your mind constantly wandered back to that pizza parlor’s bathroom. Back to that door, reminding you how you felt, and wondering if it was still there. 

    For the weeks that followed you made sure to steer clear of that particular restaurant. Soon, both the dread and even the memory of that door began to fade as your life slowly transitioned back to normalcy. 

    Then one Thursday the door returned.

    You did not notice it when you first settled in at your workstation but once you were ready to begin it was there, waiting for you. 

    This time it was set right into a previously empty spot of the office wall that you stared at hundreds of times before. 

    It was undeniably the same door, with the same immaculate white panel with the same brass doorknob that reflected the overhead fluorescent lights.

    There was no debris, no change in the coat of paint around it, nor any other sign of construction that would be the result of its sudden arrival.

    After your initial shock began to fade, the fear crept back in like the tide, until it engulfed you whole. Your heart begins to race as your hands begin to tremble.

    The door remained standing against the far wall, tall and unmoving.

    Quickly scanning the area, you saw none of your other coworkers seemed to have noticed the most recent structural addition at work. You were far too afraid to draw anyone’s attention to it, especially in your elevated state.

    With no other options available and feeling completely trapped, you force yourself a dry swallow and try to push through the feeling and carry on with your work. No matter how you positioned yourself in your chair, you had a clear view of the door. When you got up to make yourself a cup of coffee you silently prayed that the door would be gone once you returned but it was there to greet you when you returned.

    The remainder of the day was hell. The door held its ground as you struggled to stay focused and tried to block out its oppressive presence. 

    The moment you were finished with your shift you took off like a bat out of hell and headed straight to the comfort and safety of your home. As you washed away the tension in the shower later that night, you began to contemplate what to do if the door was still there the next day.

    The next day, after an anxious commute, a sense of relief crashed into you when you turned the corner and cast his eyes upon the blank space in the wall where the door once stood. 

    You practically bounded over to it, to make sure it was not a trick of the light. As you ran your fingers over that area of the wall, you confirmed that it was totally, 100%, gone. You were so ecstatic that you sat in your work area and gladly began your mundane workload.

    It was a few more weeks after that when the door reappeared. Its next appearance was at a local coffee shop, then the grocery store after that. It kept appearing suddenly, without rhyme or reason, and impossible to predict but the fear it elicited was ever constant.

    With each appearance, it became increasingly difficult to concentrate or act as your eyes kept gravitating towards the stark white rectangle whenever it showed up. It would eventually take incredible effort to create and even verbalize an excuse on why you needed to leave.

    Months of torment finally lead to one sunny day, walking outside on the busy street in the city. Turning a corner, you came face to face with the door, standing up straight in the middle of the sidewalk in all of its awesome glory.

    It caught you so off guard that you almost walked right into it. You hopped a half step back out of base instincts before your body became petrified in fear.

    You were mentally trapped on the city street, unable to move or even look away from the door. 

    An eternity passes as you stood there as everyone else quietly walked past you.

    With no more tricks up your sleeve and nowhere else to go, you did the only thing left you could do. Slowly you lifted your right arm and extended it outwards to grasp the bronze doorknob.

    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

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    The link:                                                                                                                                                                                                            

    Author Notes on Spray on Suit

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.


    Link to the story in question

    -This is apart of my ever daunting task to write Author Notes about all the other stories I wrote before I started a Pateron!-

    As I previously stated in my first ever Author notes, this saga was meant to be a three part story but because of my writing style it ballooned out of proportions and stretched out to five lengthy installments.

    The initial premise of this was simple; What if instead of a form fitting wetsuit that would need precise measurements to fit properly, you could just spray the latex directly on one's body.

    The story starts with the sub being called over because the dom has a new thing to show him. This something the dom wants to show off requires a deep proper cleaning of the body with special soap, like how some items need pre-treatment before applying a layer of paint on it.

    Between the establishing that the sub is mostly new to latex and the shower to psych up the sub and reader, I had the sub stepping out to see that the dom had cleared the entire living room. In preparation with the dom clearing an area he laid down a tarp and changed into an outfit that one would wear to a messing painting session. All that was done to build suspense of what to come.

    The main focus of this story was the full extent of the intimate step by step process of covering a body in latex from a can while trying to be as practical and realistic in the descriptions as possible.

    For scenes I took direct inspiration of how a can of spray paint acts and reacts to the object it's sprayed on, and combined it with the order it imagined how I would cover an entire body in paint. Start with grand sprays across the torso that move on to finer details. From chests, arms, groin, legs/feet and then the head.

    As for the ‘prime restate, this is my proudest writing accomplishment in regards of being considerate and accommodating to someone who would be trapped in there for a long time… hence the plug, stop the latex from the hole being completely covered and the junk being covered as well.

    As for the neck and head, to provide more realism I brought and introduce the nose plugs, ear plugs, mouth gag and goggles with scotch tape, just like how the painters use. For protection of this fictional character, realism, functionality and looks.

    I didn't intend for a moment of breath play when I was writing the part about spraying the head, in here but it made sense. I drew inspiration and the descriptions of those tense moments from just holding my own breath for extended periods of time as i was writing it and just acknowledging out how it felt.

    Then I added the fact that the sub was blind, deaf, and mute, thus he had no clue when it would be done. The only clues he had was the feel of the spray moving across his head. Mixed in with some encroaching self doubt of would the dom actually leave him without a way to breathe followed by the final release of the gag that allowed fresh air to go through and that moment was as good to go.

    Next was the review of the work in its entirety and the walk down to the mirror in the hallway. With latex I noticed the common community appeal and aesthetic is the uniformed look, the shininess of the material and the removal of personal traits of individuality as well. I tried to hit every one of those points and themes in the reveal and reflection in the mirror.

    Then when the dom joined him I established the stinger and cliffhanger of the story; that the magical solvent to remove the latex was shipped separately and the sub is just going to stay in that outfit for a while, on top of that the dom already organized a play date with his friends to stress test the material that the sub is currently in.


    If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:

    Author Notes on The Rubber Factory

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.

    Link to the story in question 

    Oh boy, this was a doozy of a story. This one was a gift for someone and the story prompt I was given for the story was Rubber, control, and transformation. With that I decided to revisit the Living Doll story setting, but add a bit more context and twists this time.

    Initially I had the sub not ‘get’ the appeal of rubber and latex on principle but I felt that was a bit lazy and forced. I hit up one of my gear head resources to come up with realistic reasons why someone would be hesitant or reluctant to put on rubber all the time. The answer given was; the effort for upkeep and the lube and prep getting into it. With that I also wrote the backstory that Craig was more gun-ho on the idea of rubber than the sub, which also caused a bit of friction between them.

    I was given the ok to go full 180 on a character with the sub turning from a brat to a happy little drone at the end. I did this with the ‘show don't tell’ approach with the sub constantly dragging his feet on everything and being moody about everything about this appointment.

    The bratty behaviors of the sub I borrowed from every moody teenage character from every family movie and T.V show; petty displays of actions and sulking. On top of that I wrote in a few reasons to be reluctant with the appointment; the early wake up and long ride across the city.

    As for the creep factor: this is once again in the Author notes where I mention the horror aspect of my writing. It was my choice to put the rubber store in a warehouse to begin seeding the creep factor. It was also practical realism,  if I had a nickel for every popup company in a warehouse I would be a rich man.

    This time I used a LOT of build up to the eventual twist . The same build up in Slasher films that had the slow build up to the suspense by sprinkling in the scenery before the big reveal. The sign, the layout and interior of the shop, the posters of the other drones, the assistant's conversation, and of course the ‘attitude adjustment’ line by Giovanni.

    Giovanni was supposed to just be a no description and no-name character like ‘The Handler’ in my other stories, but as the story developed more and more in the drafts his involvement warranted a name and description.

    The measuring was drawn upon my time I had to get measured for a tuxedo ...a long while ago as well as the hairdressers, where people work around you and on you without engaging with you. I mean there's always idle chats at those locations but the staff are always more focused on their tasks at hand.

    I actually had to look up youtube videos on how cat suits are measured and made to write the authentic experience and workstation with scissors, zippers and glue. Before I did the research I had the work station include needle, thread and a sewing machine, which was totally off. Bottom line: Always do your research fellas, it’ll prevent you from looking like a fool.

    I wrote about that to lull the sub into a sense of comfort until the prick of the nanobots. Like horror and street magic I had Giovanni swoop in and reaffirm that it was all ok and necessary to the process to distract the sub with something else. Like horror movies I had an opportunity for the sub to walk away and leave in a huff but the thought process that he was already there and between the implied price and being halfway done he decided to stay which sealed his fate. Sunk Cost fallacy, look it up!

    Soon the suit was done and of course it was a perfect fit. To get the sub to humor Giovanni with the suit there was the line about the custom made lube that acts as a moisturizer. I don't know if water based lube does any harm to one’s skin care over all nor do I know if there is a moisturizing lube out there that has vitamins and aloe in it.

    With the suit on, the sub was able to leave when a sleepy and dizzy spell overcame him and again it was attributed to the other aspects of the day as Giovanni again swooped in and offered his couch to nap on.

    The nap was a segue to a dream sequence, I left it vague but I meant it to be about the sub looking at the inside of his own skill, with the white domed walls and the changes in your gut was supposed to be the physical reorganization done by the nanobots. A English lit major could also claim that the feeling of movement in his dream body was the change of the self, the change in his own Persona ….4 Golden on Steam for 19.99 USD. Go play it right now!

    After that dream the sub faded back to conscience with people talking around him but without context the sub couldn’t make out what it’s about until he came through and this is where the big reveal took place and where the fun began.

    I started with Craig issuing the demand to get up, which was answered by a bratty and lazy response by the sub. He tried it again and that solicited a response with a fire lit under him, my best attempt to convey the idea how someone’s subconscious could be reprogrammed to be complied to follow.

    From there Giovanni ran down the list of cool features like a car dealer on the phone app because everything's on an app these days. From there it led to body modification, which I am not happy to admit is verbatim from the living doll story even with the same beats.

    It went from the tone and achievable body, then big and impressive bodybuilder to the small and petite. It was there I went on the other request this person requested to include, Boobs.

    To introduce it I gave it the good ole ballooning scene, as the pecs kept growing before the support gave out and they fell with a satisfying jiggle. Another paragraph about feeling them and getting the touch sensation on both sides and the truth sets in.

    The sub tried to protest in any way possible which set off a notification on the phone, which lead to Giovanni to highlight the biggest feature and something that this whole story was leading up to

    It was why I gave the dom and name and why the sub never addressed him with an honorific title. Why I had the sub have so many bratty behaviors and why he was so reluctant to participate

    Because it all got wiped away at the touch of a button and to signify that I had the narration switched with it. Now it was ‘Master Craig’ and ‘Head Designer Giovanni’. The sub was now grateful for the change and thanks Giovanni with a handshake. With the total remodeling of his character there was no problem with the sub patiently waiting on Craig as he took his time shopping and browsing the inventory. Along with holding Craig’s bags and now the sub to be the one opening the door on the way out onto a bright and sunny new day.

    This was one of my more ambitious stories and like Mall Trip: the Movie, there were times in both that I wanted to create a break to make it a two-parter but I pushed through and I think both posts were better because of it.

    Between this and Mall Trip; The movie I actually got mental burned out on writing fiction stories which is why there was a break in content for two weeks, which I used to write author notes and relaxed instead.

    Burnout is real even for things you enjoy doing.


    If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:

    Author Notes on Patreon Suggested Story: December (2021)

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.


    Link to the story in question

    I am so thankfully the past three months of writing patreon stories I was blessed with seasonal holidays or major cultural events that I could draw inspiration from; October had Halloween, November had that thanksgiving spin off holiday and December had Christmas/winter festivals which paired well the the community story prompt winner: Present Delivery.

    Part of this post was a result of me realizing that the sub in the ‘The Handler and Sub’ stories didn't focus much on gears and suits. That needed to be changed and I wanted that change to be worth it.

    I highlighted the lack of gear from the ‘handler’ and sub within two points in the story. First at the invitation with the sub not only having the right gear to join pup night. By the way, the idea of a sub being overpowered by a gang of human pups during a puppy sitting event is so good that I’m going to have to make another full-fledged story just about that.

    The other example was when the two stepped into the party and saw all of the other people in their gear with festive twists on them, while they just had their wool sweaters. I had too much fun writing all the truly silly kinky outfits like the white gimp that was posed like a snowman, pups with antlers and Santa and elves. Funnily enough the ugly matching holiday sweaters were just a throwaway line . I only used the cliche of itchy sweater being unbearable as only the thinnest relation and connection to BDSM.

    For the ride to the club I wanted to amp up the potential fear of the unknown because there is something scary when you visit a location when all the lights are off. The dark building, lack of light or ambiance, and just the stillness of it all, This can be attributed to me working so much third shift at one of my previous jobs.

    After both of them walked passed the big bouncer, across the empty dance floor and down a dark spooky hallway to only reveal a bright and cheery room full of people having fun! As a direct nod to The DEEP DARK WOOD children story, a tale that is all about building up the eerie suspense just for the final thing to be a bright pink jelly bean.

    On top of the fun with the festive holiday twists on costumes I also had added a bit of silliness when depicting the gingerbread men and dog cookies and how the bartender just mixed the eggnog into the established bowl of spiked eggnog.

    After settling in, it was time to kick off the story with the Head Owner of the club calling up the sub to the middle of the circle of the group and begin his gauntlet, to serve every single dom at the party. For variety I tried to phrase it that each had their one objective so it just wasn’t one task over and over again. Through that the sub was gifted one part of his new outfit one at a time since it was implied the whole club pitched in for it, cause I know damn well how expensive those outfits are.

    In return for the gear given the dom made sure to make the sub give the dom’s gift back, it’s only fair. As a bit of humiliation I heavily implied that the dom spent months making home made silicone statues of the sub’s...*ahem* own image as gifts to all his kinky friends. It's a really cool idea, I don't know how well that could work in real life, to that production and scale.

    Like most of my stories, it ends with a happy ending with the handler receiving his gift, a fully geared sub to walk out with after the party is done. Over all it was a pretty straight forward story and I'm thankful that I had that between Mall Trip: The Movie and The Rubber Factory.


    If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:  

    Author Notes on Mall Trip: The Movie

    The Author Notes series is a long running segment on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories, including writing tricks I used for certain scenes as well as how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

    Going forward I will be publishing Author notes that are at least one year old to the public.

    I hope you enjoy this behind the scenes format of this post while I continue to work on the next story.


    Link to the story in question

    This was a gift to a friend of mine. The friend gave me the prompt of  public humiliation with friends or family members -out of the know- and that they would be close by to raise the stakes of being caught.

    With that I decided to return back to one of my favorite settings for subtle public play, The MALL! For the sake of adding something new I framed the story as another outing with the twist that the dom went out and bought a new remote controlled you because the sub mentioned that he was getting used to the old one and that was the first upping the ante.

    Of course the new plug needed to be bigger, have a more powerful motor and impressive in every way. To show that I had to dedicate a few sentences to it being plugged in and the initial turning on of the device.

    I can contribute that segment to my love of Power Rangers and Anime show, you know the ones that introduce a new powerful megazord or power level. There’s always an episode that introduces and hypes up the new power and spends special amount of time just showing off how strong and cool it is during its debut.

    See the first time Goku went Super Sayian (or Ultra Instinct) to see a perfect example of what I’m describing.

    That was the point of the demonstration of the new plug in the doorway and once more at the coffee shop’s drive through just to establish what’s at stake in this story.

    The return to the mall was par for the course until the friends showed up, and then the truth was revealed that the true big ante up of the thrill and threat was with the normal friends interrupting the scene.

    For the sake of immersion I just made friends from school. What kinda school? Could be University, college, or highschool, it’s pretty much not important for the sake of reader, since everyone has gone to at least one school before.

    There is a certain type of fear of being caught in a very intimate moment, whether sexy or being walked in the middle of an intense Dungeons and Dragons fight scene,  especially by people on the outside of that community. Double Especially if you are in a place/scene that would require tons of prerequisite knowledge to be established first. Let alone the additional fear of outing yourself on top of that.

    Fun Fact: I actually was told that someone couldn’t finish that particular story because when the friends were introduced it became too scary of a scenario to continue. Others said it was one of my best work. I take both of these comments as equally high praise.

    I forced a conversation with the friends and I used the dom to keep goading the talks to increase the social anxiety, as the dom continue to play with the remote control to remind the sub that the session is still going on, even during this unusual scenario.For the sake of prolonging the written agony and suspense, I had the dom jump into the conversation with the alias made on the fly so that the threat of discovery wasn’t initially spoiled.

    Eventually conversation went to the actual setting of the story, the movie theater. A nice location where people are expected to sit in the dark for hours on end, anything could happen! Of course the best kinda trap for suspense and public play is the ones that you voluntarily walk into or are pressured into doing with a well timed buzzer, and is why I made sure that the sub get asked and pressured to agree to go along

    The joke of the story was the movie title, the remake Trial of the Dragon. What can i say? Persona 4 Golden is a fantastic game and Chie Satonaka the best girl out of the cast.

    I had the most creative fun with writing about the buzzer and how to implement it. From my point of view the best sort of thing would be using it not just during the most exciting moments but have it go hand in hand with the more mundane things, just to keep the excitement somewhat alive and constant . You saw it with the initial handshake, the step of the handler’s steps, the ebb and flows of the movie trailers. I was trying to enhance those moments like rumble features on game controllers.

    If you do a ‘hidden in plain sight’ public story, there needs to be high pressure moments that brushes up against the main character’s limit to heighten the suspense of being caught in the open. Which is what happened with the walk to the theater and in the movie lobby itself. In a jerk move I had the dom hold the group up with a burger order which made the sub stand around in quiet frustration as the buzzer kept going at max power.

    Fun Fact: Most of the internal strife of standing still in the lobby came from my own experience of waiting to go to the bathroom. Same it’s practically the same principle; the building pressure, mental acknowledging that it might end soon, the small relief that you could channel some of that frustration or distractions into your walks/tapping feet but once that’s denied you realize all the pressure that has been built up.

    After that high intense scene I decided to give the sub a rest while the dom got his meal & made the excuse that he needed both hands to hold all of his food. So this group got their tickets, food and finally got to their seats in the theater for some peace and quiet.

    Then like all monster horror movies there has to be a final scare of the threat coming back from the grave for one more scare. For this story it took place in the form of a dom demanding the sub a blow job in a darkened theater, by having himself whipped out over the waistline.

    That extra dose of fear resulted in the sub trying to be defiant and quietly refusing the dom, which brought more punishment via buzzer. For building suspense and realizing what's at stake and between the people next to him and the concept that he couldn’t last the entire movie with that thing at max power, the sub didn’t have a way out of this that wouldn't expose him. And being literally locked into this scenario, it offered him a compelling enough point to comply. After a brief checking over his shoulder to double check that his friends were not watching, but instead totally enthralled by the movie, the sub went for it.

    The act itself was easy to the sub and not important to the story but still warranted a rush job. Once done with the deed, the sub sat back upwards in the seat and scarfed down some popcorn and soda in a clever bit of realism to try to mask the scent.

    From there the movie ended, they group went to the lobby and said their goodbyes and the dom decided to call it a day after that. I ended it there because I was tired of writing this story and wanted to move on, but not before adding a moment where the dom spent his walk back to the car boasting to his club friends of what happened and as a reminder and recap of the events. For a nice finishing touch.


     If you have any more questions about anything about this post that I missed, send me a message or leave a comment. I’ll gladly clarify or talk more about anything from this story.

    Once again, thank you for the support.


    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author’s Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

    The link:  

    Shark Baited [Commission]

    This story was commissioned by Sharky

    Deep in a mundane office, on a floor bathed in overhead fluorescent lights and saturated with the sounds of keyboard clicking and constant office phones ringing, there was a shark sitting in his corner office, diligently working away.

    His eyes stayed glued to his screen as his fingers diligently skittered across the keyboard, occasionally breaking away to descend upon the mouse to click around the screen. The plaque on the mahogany table displayed the words, “Sharky. Head data analysis” in golden letters against the obsidian black background.

    The shark was respectfully built for his stature, covered in gray scales from head to toe and backfin. Running across his arms and down his thick tail was a pink tiger-striped pattern that was covered by a sharp business suit.

    Off on the corner of his desk, resting on top of a pile of papers, Sharky’s cell phone lay face down, letting out a series of sporadic buzzing.  


    Buzz buzz. 


    Buzz buzz buzz.

    Sharky grimaced at the last barrage of buzzes, knowing full well what each one meant. Despite the notifications, the shark tried his best to carry on as the phone continued its buzzing. 

    True to his intentions, Sharky stayed determined to the project at hand for the rest of the day, well into the early evening, and even as others left for the day. It was only when the cleaning crew knocked at his office door that he conceded and grabbed his things to finally leave. As he retrieved his phone, he instinctively flipped it over in his claw. The screen lit up to display a list of email and app notifications. After scrolling through the list Sharky silently swore to himself before he dismissed them all and walked himself out.

    Just as Sharky got settled in his car his phone buzzed to life again, in the familiar pattern of an incoming phone call. Sharky checked the phone screen and used his finger to swipe along the bottom before he brought it up to his ear. Sharky was about to say the first syllable of a greeting when he was cut off. 

    A commanding voice, with an audible snide smile, spoke from the other side, “just a heads up, a big delivery is on its way.” 

    There was a synthesized tone that followed before Sharky could even respond back.

    Sharky pulled his phone away to look at his phone as it informed him that the call had ended. The shark took a deep sigh, put his keys in the ignition, revved up his car, and pulled out of his parking space. As he merged back onto the main road he thought back to how his life resulted in his mess.

    This whole situation started a couple of months ago, on a particularly lonely night. After a long night at the office only to arrive back at a dark and empty house, Sharky finally caved and downloaded a hookup app. This particular app not only showed the profiles of its users but it included a rating system where previous hookups can rate and comment on others’ profiles. 

    A quick profile creation later, Sharky was added to his location and soon was surfing through the selection. Sharky’s heart accelerated as his eyes scanned through all the shirtless and bottomless profile pictures. That was when Sharky stumbled upon him, Randy.

    Randy’s main profile picture was a selfie of him, a slightly chubby raccoon, sitting on his sofa in nothing but his boxers. He had one arm stretched out of the frame to hold his phone up overhead, while his other arm wrapped under his tummy, with his hand resting on the bulge in his boxers. The raccoon was looking at the camera with the confident expression of someone who knew exactly what he had and was just waiting for someone who needed it to approach him.

    The bio on his profile simply said, “I am unapologetic.” Below that caption followed a string of vague yet overwhelmingly positive ratings and comments.

    Between the profile picture and the glowing reviews, it whipped Sharky’s excitement up enough to motivate him to send his first message to the raccoon’s inbox with a standard ‘hey~’.

    Within minutes, Sharky’s phone buzzed in his palm as he received a reply, ‘sup newbie, like what you saw?”

    From there the conversation began, Sharky was just as timid as he was in real life while Randy was there to confidently coax out the real reason why the shark hit him up. Once Sharky confessed his true intent, the chat pivoted straight towards sexual. After a few choice pictures from Randy and a bit of teasing, Randy gave Sharky his location, and soon Sharky was rushing out the door, firmly grasping his car keys.

    A short, hormonal-fueled ride later, a nervous Sharky was knocking on Randy’s apartment door, a moment later Randy opened the door, wearing nothing but a dirty shirt and briefs. 

    “You him?” was all that the raccoon asked.

    The stammering reply from Sharky was all that Randy needed to hear as he ushered him in. As Sharky walked by him, he could not help but notice how much taller Randy was compared to him.

    Randy’s apartment was a small, slightly littered apartment. Randy headed straight towards the sofa and welcomed Sharky to join him. As the nervous shark sat down next to him and immediately noticed the lingering scent of musk that clung to Randy’s unkempt body. 

    Randy was as aloof and cocky as his online profile and leaned into it as Sharky tried to steady himself. In an attempt to seem more interesting, Sharky tried boasting about his office job, how much he made and how he climbed the corporate ladder. Randy humored him just enough until Sharky realized how embarrassing he was sounding and sputtered out under the raccoon’s watchful eyes.

    Once Sharky got the message, Randy moved in with a bold embrace with one arm around Sharky’s neck to pull him close as his other hand descended onto Sharky’s groin.

    “Oh, you're one of those double-cocked fellas, right?” Randy mewed as his fingers ran around the outline of Sharky’s crotch.

    “Uh yeah,” was all the flustered Sharky could utter in response.

    “Don’t worry, I got all the cock we need.”

    What came next was a very assertive hook-up, as Randy went on the offense, pushing all of Sharky’s buttons, physically this time, as the little shark gave himself up to the raccoon. The following morning, Sharky woke up first, quietly gathered his clothes, and slunk out to start a new day at work all while Randy snored away.

    It was late in the morning when Sharky heard from Randy, in the form of risque messages, a series of lewd pictures. Randy continued to tease the shark for the rest of the day, to the point where Sharky was practically begging to cover over to suck his cock again. Randy only agreed to it if Shakry arrived with a pizza. 

    That was the moment Randy sunk his claws into Sharky. Over the weeks a natural routine formed between them, Randy would tease Sharky all day at work and then dictate what to bring over for dinner as Randy subjected him to all sorts of depravity and new experiences. With each encounter, Randy would always push the boundaries and the imagination of the meek little office shark and Sharky enjoyed every moment of it.

    The constant sex and pushing of limits naturally developed into willing domination and Randy became more assertive with his approach.

    Things took a turn when Randy stumbled upon Sharky’s once-thought-well-hidden kink list online. It listed all of the common preferences, the ones that Randy had already discovered, like musk and chubbiness. But the list also went on to include some of Sharky’s more extreme interests, like bullying, control, findom, body worship, and weight gain. When Randy brought it to Sharky’s attention, the shark was mortified and tried to deny it but ultimately failed. 

    Now with a complete and verified list of all of Sharky’s most deprived kinks, Randy went to town. It started that night when Randy pinned Sharky against the wall and demanded Sharky to hand over his wallet. Randy then made a show of him taking pictures of both sides of all of Sharky’s credit cards and pocketing a spare twenty before tossing the wallet back at the shark’s feet.

    Rany took full advantage of the blank check that he seized. During the day Sharky’s phone would sound off from a combination of targeted testing from Randy and emailed receipts of all the online purchases Randy made in his name. All of that made Sharky constantly squirm at work and made him even more submissive.

    That soon snowballed into Randy doing constant take-out orders for lunch, extravagant gifts for himself, and fully subsidizing his apartment’s rent. It got to the point where Randy was starting to do serious damage to Sharky’s respectable finances. Sharky remained subservient, keeping quiet by continuing to visit Randy nearly every day after work to submit himself to Randy as he picked out dinner for delivery.

    After months of that, when Randy announced that his lease was up and decided to crash at  Sharky’s place, under the guise of saving Sharky some money. The data analysis and his wallet practically wept with delight with the compromise, until he realized that freed up cash was just going to be spent on other things.

    All that led to where Sharky’s life ended up today, as he pulled into the driveway of his house. As Sharky eased out of his car, a familiar delivery car pulled up behind him. A young otter stepped out of his car, retrieved a big brown bag, steadied it in his arms, and walked towards Sharky. The shark just sighed as he faced the otter and extended his arms to accept the package and felt the heft on his arms and felt the heat radiating from the bag as he leaned it into his torso for additional support.

    Once the delivery was handed off, the otter glanced up at Sharky and said, “look like you and your crew are eating well tonight! The generous tip,” as he turned back towards his vehicle.

    Sharky looked down at the bag and his nose caught the smell of Thai food wafting through the paper. Sharky weighed the bag in his arms and tried to estimate how much food was inside, and how much it all cost before he turned around and headed inside. After a moment of shifting the bag to one hand, in order to free the other hand to grab the door handle, he quickly opened the door and made his way inside.

    Once on the other side of the door, the scent of B.O. and grease drove away the delightful smell of Thai food in Sharky’s arms. Sharky’s eyes gravitated toward the mess on the floor. A trail of discarded food bags and cardboard delivery packages formed from the front door to the living room.

    There on the couch was the end result of Randy, who sat on the sofa, in front of a TV, in nothing but his boxers and a stained tank top. He was holding an expensive tablet in one hand while the other hand was submerged in a party-sized bag of chips, rummaging the bottom for the last few handfuls.

    With the unrestrained lifestyle gained from mooching off of Sharky, the raccoon graduated from being chubby to fat, and now he was on the cusp of obesity.

    Days of couch surfing and the excessive calories of the nonstop takeout caused Randy’s entire frame to fill out and then spilled over. The first thing to grow out was Randy’s ass, which he used to his advantage to not only taunt Sharky as he strutted around the apartment but to introduce Sharky to the wonders of face-sitting. 

    While his arms and legs thicken up along with his unshaven face. The most prominent development was his torso. Randy’s pecs plumped up and then transformed into a set of flabby moobs that Randy displayed with no shame. But the most promenade feature that developed in Randy was his stomach. With access to nearly unlimited meals, that punchy little tummy before blossomed into a full-fledged gut. A gut rounded by a well-stretched-out stomach, nestled underneath a thick layer of flab. Now his gut spends most of its time resting upon Randy’s lap, acting as both additional shelf space for Randy and a consonant reminder of how much money Sharky’ conceded to his dom.

    Sharky gazed at the beast that invaded his life, he let out a defeated sigh as he placed the bag of food down and began to strip out of his office clothes, down to his tighty whities. This particular ritual was initiated by Randy the day after Sharky objected to Randy strutting past the open windows in underwear. 

    Once Sharky stepped out of his pants, exposing his petite body, he bent back down to pick up the take-out bag and carried it over, where Randy accepted the offering and the shark quietly sat down next to him on the sofa. The sofa frame had long since been warped from Randy’s rapid weight gain that no matter how Sharky sat he ended up falling towards the center, right into Randy’s sweaty side.

    Randy hardly noticed, he was too busy ripping open the bag, inspecting the plastic trays of contents while setting them around him and on his lap. 

    When he reached the napkins and plastic wares, Randy chuckled at the half dozen sets of forks that were included. The raccoon selected one and tossed the rest over his shoulder, clattering against the hard wooden floor. Randy then meticulously opens each tray in front of him, allowing the apartment to become saturated with the heavenly aroma of the dinner.

    Randy wasted no time digging in And soon the sounds of munching & slurping filled the room, with reckless abandon as Sharky just squirmed next to him. After Randy emptied the first few trays before he finally addressed the benefactor of the feast.

    “So,” said between mouthfuls and the occasional burp, “I woke up at ten today. Decided to treat myself to some deep dish pizza, TGIF, am I right?”

    Munch, munch.

    “Then I chatted with and toyed with some other chumps, showing off what I got and making them beg to …*urp*...  see more.”

    Munch, munch.

    “Oh, and I saw that paycheck went through, I decided to finally buy that chastity cage for you. I, I mean, you gotta pay extra for that costume design for your twin set of bitch cocks but it’s a worthy investment.”

    Sharky let out a whine as he continued to squirm against Randy. Chastity was not on his original kink list, but since moving into his life Randy has been teasing that as another form of control. Finally hearing that Randy actually pulled the trigger on the purchase made Sharky let out a pathetic moan of protest as his underwear began to tighten.

    A moment passed in silence as Sharky stewed with the future that Randy promised to him as the obese raccoon continued to demolish dish after dish, dropping each emptied tray off the side of the sofa onto the growing mound of litter.

    Once Randy polished off the majority of the feast, he wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and cleared his throat.

    “Oh and one of my friends will be in the area, so he is going to swing by for the weekend.”

    Before Sharky could reply Randy cut him off, “I’ve known him for years, he’s a trucker, a real big moose. He’s been on the road for the past few days, so he hasn’t had a break…I'm gonna show him all the best beasties”

    Randy picked up another tray and resumed his eating, “he’s real interested in your situation, especially how I dominate you and he wants to see the full extent of what I do to you.”

    Munch, munch.

    “No doubt that he wants to give you a run for your money too,” Randy then let out a deep chortle that caused his gut to shake.

    As always, Randy followed up his plans in the same way, “That isn’t a problem, is it?” Which allowed Sharky to always answer with a whimper of acceptance.

    “Good boy,” Randy said as he tossed another empty tray off to the side, “come here.”

    Randy lifted his left arm into the air, as his right hand came in to scoop up the back of Sharky’s head and shoved it deep into his armpit. The fat raccoon then lowered his arm, completely engulfing Sharky’s head with the sweaty flab. Randy fastened his arms in place and then reached over to tickle Sharky’s tented underpants.

    In response, Sharky’s hand moved down and pulled down the elastic for easier access. One Randy’s hands pulled away, Sharky picked up the torch, stroking his cocks, one in each hand.

    While not breaking form, Randy leaned over to grab a spare two liter of soda propped against the sofa and then fished out the TV remote from between a sofa cushion crack to start up the movie. He settled back into his seat to resume his feast as Sharky was left to freely pleasure himself for the last few days he could. *** If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon! For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author Notes on this post and others.

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    Patreon Suggested Story: December 2022

    This story topic was voted on by the wonderful Avid Readers on my Patreon! For December’s poll the winning story prompt was “Back Alley Street Bondage”

    It was the end of a particular rare day. Out of the kindness of your handler’s heart, he decreed that this Saturday you were going to spend the entire day with him as a free man. An entire day without gear, servitude, or responsibilities to the hierarchies. On top of that, he planned a full day out for the both of you, which involved a day trip to the next city over to see the sights and local attractions.

    You could hardly believe it but true to his word, from the moment you work up there were no orders from your handler. He prepared breakfast and grabbed his car keys for a normal day out.

    It was nice. That being said, with your freedom you did try to test your handler’s resolve with flirtatious teasing and comments that you would have never said under his servitude.

    The day ended not at a club, just a simple bar with pub food and drinks. Once you two secured a table, you decided to indulge yourself with a drink once you sat down and then another with appetizers, and a third when you placed your dinner order.

    With each glass, your flirtatious teasing becomes predominant. Your comments became louder and your flirty comment became less overt with its double meaning. To your handler’s credit, he continued to take each advance on the chin and kept his cool even as more and more attention was brought to the table.

    “Careful”, your handler said in both a deflective and warning tone, keeping an eye on you and another on the bar’s reception of the two of you.

    “Make me,” was all you replied.

    With that, you reached across the table and rubbed your handler’s cock through his pants while giving him your brattiest look.

    That was the moment that broke your handler’s facade. Your handler whipped his head towards you and gave you his entire attention.

    “Outside” was all your handler said.

    The way that he said it, it was not a command or an order, but more of a fact of what was going to happen next. An absolute truth.

    Upon hearing your handler using that particular tone, a shot of sobering adrenaline shot through your entire body.

    Your handler then stood up and made his way toward the door. Out of ingrained programming, you got up to follow him from the table. As your handler made it to the entrance, he made sure to tell the waitress that you two will be right back.

    Once outside and onto the busy street, your handler turned the corner and ducked down an alley. As you followed him you just saw him briskly take a turn down another side alley. Knowing that it would be foolish to disobey him now, you continued to follow his trail.

    The moment reached the entrance of the side alley and hand jutted out, grabbed you by your shirt collar, and pulled you into the alleyway.

    In a blink of an eye, you have spun around as your handler pinned your face and torso against the old brick wall with one hand.

    “You just couldn’t behave, could you?” came the absolute authoritarian voice of your handler as he brought his head right next to your ear.

    You felt your handler lean in more into you with his shoulder as you heard rustling and faint jingling, followed by the sound of something sliding around and out. A moment later your handler grabbed your hands and brought them together over your head. With expert maneuverability, your handler bound them together with his belt.

    With bold hands tied in place, your handler only needed one hand to keep them pinned in place, which freed up his other hand to squeeze your ass.

    “Remember brat, bad behavior gets your privileges revoked,” your handler growled into your ear, “and you’ve been bad enough that you need to be reminded of your place.”

    Your handler resumed his assault against you. Firmly grasping your bound hands with one hand as he used his free hand to explore his sub’s body, squeezing and groping every part of your body. Your handler also began to grind his hips against you, letting loose a quiet primal growl into your ear as he did so.

    Pinned against the wall, all you could do was just surrender yourself to the moment as you felt your face become flushed with a deep red as every part of your body became ablaze with desire.

    Deep in your torso, a truly submissive moan took form. That moan was on its way up to your throat when you heard a group of people laugh as they walked past the entrance of the alley. That reminder of the public, just around the corner, was enough to snap you to your senses as you tried your best to swallow that moan back down. As a result, only the smallest whimper left your lips as your body temperature rose in protest.

    Picking up on that internal conflict, your handler leaned in again as he brought his free hand up and lightly grasped your neck.

    In a volume a bit louder than your whimper your handler said, “that’s right bitch, keep a muzzle on. The last thing you want is to be found in this position.” You could only whimper in reply.

    After that exchange, your handler pulled back and continued his handsy assault against you as he kept your hands pinned overhead. He started at your neck and moved his way down, groping and squeezing your back and front, inch by inch as he made his way to your ass.

    All while you tried to continue to suppress your responses with each squeeze.

    As your handler descended your body, you felt his gropes and thrusts against you becoming more and more intense as you heard him panting in your ear. With that a sense of belonging overtook you, as it caused your body to begin to grind against his body, matching his rhythm and mounting intensity.

    For a hushed moment, both of you were lost in the moment as you both fell into your respective roles, the predator and his prey. Once your handler had his fill with grabbing whatever part of you could, it was time to truly claim what was his.

    You felt your handler wrap his arm across your waist as his fingers quickly undid your pants button and pulled down the zipper. Your handler’s hand then pulled back across your hips until he arrived just above your ass.

    You then felt him grab the waistbands of both your pants and underpants and pulled them down with one powerful yank, exposing your ass to the world. Automatically your legs repositioned themselves and straddled themselves to prevent your pants from sliding down anymore while presenting your ass to your handler.

    Your handler’s hand moved back up your legs to give your exposed ass a firm squeeze. That contact against your bare skin caused a renewed jolt of raw ecstasy to shoot through your body. Your handler then spider-walked his fingers across your cheek, toward the center. He nimbly spread open your cheeks with his fingertips as he ran his middle finger down your crack, inspecting the goods. A one day break from servitude was not enough to stop your ass from being ready to take your handler at a drop of a hat.

    After a quick prodding of your hole, your handler withdrew his hand. A quick unzip and rustling of denim was followed by the warm, familiar sensation of the broad side of his dick tapping against your ass before he pulled it away. That sensation alone sent you deeper into subspace as your body began to quiver with anticipation.

    You then heard the sound of a plastic bottle cap popping off followed by the sound of gel being squeezed out and spread around. A half second later you felt your handler’s lube-covered dick grind up against your crack. Your handler painted the valley between your cheeks with lube with his cock before you felt him line himself up against your asshole and pushed his way in.

    You held your breath and braced yourself as you felt your handler’s thick cock spread you open and ease into you.

    Despite all the silicone dildos and glass plugs your handle used on you, the sensation of his bare cock, sliding into you always caused your body to erupt in shivers.

    As he kept easing his way in, your body kicked up a gear as every sensation became more amplified. Your body temperature climbed as you felt the heat from his cock slide deeper into you. Your breathing dissolved into pants.

    You were forced to re-register the cold touch of the brick wall against your face as you were pressed further against it. At the same time, your bound hands began to writhe against the leather belt’s band.

    As your handler’s cock reached and grazed your prostate, you had to use every bit of your willpower to suppress a full-throated moan.

    Once he was hilted you felt your handler come in close to your ear yet again and whispered, “You have been and always will be my little bitch, isn’t that right?”

    Your hushed response was just about to leave your lips when he pulled out, only to slam his cock right back into you with enough force that a moan came billowing out of your throat like a runaway freight train.

    Your heart galloped into double time over the fear that someone on the main street just heard you leading you to be exposed any minute. In response steadied yourself and pursed your lips shut, forcing yourself to stay as quiet as possible.

    Your handler, on the other hand, did not share the same fear and continued his relentless pounding as he pressed you further against the wall.

    He fucked you without an ounce of perceived worry of anyone finding two you out. In fact, from either your stunted expressions or the thrill of the moment, your handler seemed to become more feral. Your handler went faster and faster with nothing but the sounds of his grunts and the constant squishing of the lube filling your ears

    All you could do was hold on and prayed that there wasn’t going to be a potential incident with a bust boy hauling out a trash bag to the dumpster.

    When your handler was practically in a frenzied state when you shoved his face right up next to yours and in a deep growl said, “This is your true place, right here, serving me, wherever, whenever.”

    With that statement, he slammed his cock into as a geyser of warmth erupted from your handler’s cock and rocketed further into your body. It was there that you reached your mental breaking point. Where your self-conscious mind gave way to your primitive aspect as you gasped and moaned with reckless abandon.

    All the while, your handler continuously rammed his cock into you making sure that every bit of his load would stay inside of you. When he was satisfied your handler slowly pulled his cock out and carefully wiped the remaining cum and lube residing on your cheeks before he finally let go of you and stepped away.

    Finally free to move you brought your bounded hands down and awkwardly shuffled around, trying your best not to have your pants fall past your knees. You just stood there, helpless as you watched your handler tuck his cock away. As he zipped up his pants, you quietly extended your hands out, offering him his belt. When your handler was ready, adjusted, and tucked everything away he undid the belt around your wrists and began feeding it through his belt loops once again.

    With your hands now free, you bent down and began to pull up and fasten your pants. Once that was squared away you just stood there, eyes cast obediently down, waiting.

    Your handler let out a deep satisfied sigh of relief, “Looks like you learned your lesson. Come on, odds are that our food is ready”.

    “Yes sir.”

    With that, your handler turned around and made his way out of the alley, back towards the pub as you followed behind him.

    If you enjoyed this story consider supporting me on Patreon!

    For five dollars a month, you’ll get access to the Author Notes on this post and others.

    At ten dollars a month you’ll get access to exclusive member polls, to suggest and shape my monthly suggested story.

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    January 2023 Patreon Story Poll heads up

    This post is just to highlight a new Story Prompt Poll that’s currently live on my Patreon! The topics to vote on this month are:

    -New Year New You (drone)

    -Magic Pup Hood (brain drain)

    -Kink at work

    The poll is for Avid Readers ($10/month tier) if interested or already a member, the link to the voting is right here: ****

    Thank you all for your continued support

    Checked at the airport

    It was that time of year again, the now annual trip to BDSM Con., the biggest kink-focused convention four-day weekend event in the nation. You went with your handler last year and after seeing it in person, he decided to make sure you would join him at every future convention.

    It first started when your handler instructed you to put in your time off at work as he sent you a screenshot of a receipt for two four-day passes. From there, your handler took care of everything surrounding the trip, from airfare to the hotels all the while keeping a running tally of the expense for you to pay off your share. During the months that lead up to it, your handler spent his free time networking with his friends and colleagues, keeping track and coordinating who was going and who was already in the area.

    The night before the trip, you were at your handler’s place, double-checking everything you each packed in your bags and getting one last bit of fun in before getting up early for the airport. After an uneventful flight and a long taxi ride, you finally checked your bags at the hotel and headed over to the convention. 

    Even though this was the second time attending, you were still enamored by the size and scope of the expo. Not only the number of people attending, just walking around in their freshly cleaned latex and leather outfits but the panels and the jam-packed vendor hall. 

    Your handler wasted no time marveling at the sights, he imminently grabbed your hand and  attacked the expo hall.

    He navigated the hall with a hunter’s determination, going up and down the rows of merch booths. He snaked his way through the hall, inspecting every bit of merchandise from every table and quickly buying hundreds of dollars of gear without a second’s hesitation. As while you followed behind him. In a surprising bit of freedom, your handler encouraged you to purchase anything that caught your eye with the promise that it would eventually be used on you.

    Once your handler was satisfied with his haul, he then dragged you to the panels and live talks. The events ranged from group topic discussions to toy companies unveiling the newest products. After the long days of attending the expo came the nights. Throughout the city, there were dances, parties, and after-parties which your handler made sure that you not only attended but were entertaining to the others as well.

    Between the hours of the expo hall closing and the wild late-night parties beginning, your handler always made time for you two to step away from the buzz of the convention to have personal dates together with coffee and little side trips to local shops and attractions.

    On the start of the last day of the convection, your handler went online and made a very public open invitation for anyone to swing by the hotel room and use you any way they deemed fit. Subs, doms, groups, it did not matter your handler purposefully added a no-limits. 

    That message apparently got around because when the expo hall closed and you and your handler made it back to the hotel room, there was already a line of people, raring to take your handler up on that offer.

    Your handler saw to it that you served every one of them, in whatever manner they deemed fit. He made true to his word, as you stayed in the hotel room for the entire night and into the early morning. When the line of kinksters finally dispersed, you let exhaustion take you.

    When you finally came through, it was ready late the next morning. You were greeted by a fog of grogginess, a sore body, and the sight of your handler standing fully clothed at the foot of the bed with airplane tickets in hand. Next to him was his and your luggage with everything packed away.

    At that sight, you groggily rolled your body over to the bedside clock. After mentally processing the digital digits you let out a groan of general protest before you will yourself out of bed and towards the bathroom for a quick shower.

    Cleaning off the residue of last night and trying to wash away the sense of tiredness, you got into a previously worn pair of jeans and your least-soiled t-shirt. Once you were presentable enough, you joined your handler at the door to start the hotel check-out process and departure.

    Still trying to wake up you eased out of the taxi, wheeled your carry-on behind you, and followed your handler as you two entered the airport. After waiting in line to check in, and locating your gate, you got in another line for security. As you and your handler meandered through the line, you heard the announcement of the rules of what to do once you got to the front of the line, repeated over and over again.

    Once there, you diligently grabbed one of the gray plastic trays from the stack and removed your shoes, belt, phone, and wallet. You neatly placed them all on the tray, right next to your luggage onto the converter belt. With nothing protecting you from the cold tiled floor, you got into another line and waited to be ushered through the x-ray machines.

    After getting cleared you stepped through the checkpoint and joined your handler on the other side and waited to get your stuff from the receiving end of the conveyor belt. One by one you retrieved your shoes, your belt, your phone, and your wallet. You slipped everything on and waited for your carry-on to be pushed through.

    And you waited. 

    You waited long enough that the people behind you were scanned, ok’d, and retrieved their possessions. At that, your grogginess morphed into annoyance as you began looking beyond the converter belt, actively searching for where your carry-on case went off to. 

    Looking around you finally spotted your luggage, it was surrounded by two security members who were inspecting the outside of the case while consulting a crowded image on a computer screen. One of the security staff was inspecting the outside by wiping it down with a white cloth and feeding it into a machine and reading the results.

    After that search yielded nothing, one of the security staff grabbed the handle and lugged it across the checkpoint to a separate station. As the security staff brought your case over his eyes scanned the crowd before locking on you.

    “This your bag?” he asked in a mundane voice.

    “Yeah, what’s up?” you answered with a slightly edged tone.

    “Your case tripped the scanners, we just have to open your bag to see if there’s any contraband don’t worry.” answer the security guard.

    With nothing else to do you watched him square your luggage case against his table while punching some keys on the computer nearby which brought up the cluttered scan of your luggage with an area highlighted in red.

    ‘That’s ridiculous’ you scoffed at yourself, ‘I didn’t have any problems when I flew in’. Then, one after another, two facts slapped you in the face.

    That luggage scan was before BDSM con and your handler packed your luggage this morning. 

    That realization caused a wave of fear to crash into you, flushing your tiredness right out of your body. With eyes bulging, you whipped your head towards your handler. His eyes were locked on your luggage case, with an unreadable expression on his face.

    The sound of zippers being quickly pulled open caused you to snap back to the security guard station. As if in slow motion, you witnessed the airport security reach over and grasped the top of the suitcase and yanked it open.

    The first thing that everyone saw, placed right on top of the pile in your luggage, clear as day under the fluorescent lights was a dildo. A long and thick black dildo, printed along the shaft in bright red text was the phrase, “BDSM Con 2022”.

    You, your handler, and the security guard all stood stock still for a moment as your face became beat red.

    It was the very same dildo you bought at the show floor’s merch booth. It did not help the situation that, at the time you purchased it, overenthusiasm overtook you and you decided to get the largest size. Not just for the novelty but as an eventual goal.

    After that moment of stunned silence, where the guard shot a glance toward you and then your handler before he cleared his throat. With just the tips of his fingers, pinched the base of the toy and carefully moved it off to the side, only to reveal a combination pup hood and mouth gag. 

    That was a prize that you won from one toy company’s prelaunch party, which you proudly wore for the rest of the event and the VIP after-party.

    Stunned in disbelief, you saw the security staff double checked the computer screen, turned back to your luggage, and began to dig deeper. The seconds seemed to stretch on to an entirety as he carried on as began shifting through your possessions as a trickle of strangers passed by.

    In his due diligence, he lifted up and inspected each kink item for a potential threat before putting them off to the side. Next up were your plugs, then the nicely folded novelty shirts, including your fishnet top and a black t-shirt had the word, “BOTTOM” in clear white text. With each private item that was retrieved, another layer of embarrassment was draped over you.

    As the security man kept digging through your remaining shirts, pants, and kneepads, a stray thought crossed your mind.

    What if your handler set this up for you?

    What if he purposefully snuck something into your luggage when he packed your bags this morning? 

    All to intentionally trigger the security system, so that you would be forced to air out your dirty laundry at the airport. Turning back to your handler, you tried your best to quietly inquire if your private theory was correct. Your handler maintained his stoic silence, eyes remaining fixed on the developments that were unfolding at the security station.

    “Ah, I think I found it.”

    The comment caused you to whip your head back to the security guard. Eyes focused on the arm that was rummaging in your case, you saw the security guard pull out a small plastic-wrapped baggie of a couple of bars of soap from deep in one of the corners. 

    Your bars of soap. The handmade bars of soap that you bought from one of the local pop-up shops during an outing with your handler on the first day. Well before all the other fun began.

    The security guard inspected the bag of soap and then against the scanned image on the computer screen. After nodding his head he brought the soap over to a separate machine to verify the contents. 

    All of your fear and worry came crashing against the cold hard fact that this was totally your fault.

    Once the machine delivered a compliant beep the security guard said, “alright, you’re clear to go through”

    He then tried his best to pack everything back into the case, zip it up, and pass it over to you with a, “enjoy your flight”.

    You hastily grabbed your suitcase and made your way to your gate, head hung low as the sounds of your handler’s uproarious laughter filled your ears.


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    The Pit Stop [Commission]

    This story was commissioned byhypnomuskpup 

    In the business district, within one of the floors of a bland-looking building was an office of cubicles. Between the rows of beige walls, the sounds of footsteps, keyboard clicks, phone rings, and various small talks filled the air.

    Inside one of those cubicles, was a gray-furred dog, a Malamute-Irish terrier mix named Azi, diligently crunching away at a spreadsheet on his computer. There the data analyst sat, in his button-down shirt, slacks, and loafers, working at his desk right up until five o’clock.

    The moment the clock turned over to the new hour, Azi stopped what he was working on, went to immediately clock out, and shut down his computer for the day. He then promptly stood up and made his way directly to the elevator, all the while politely replying to all the goodbyes he received from his co-workers. After descending on the elevator, the data analyst got into his modest little car, pulled out of the parking lot, and made his way towards the nearest highway ramp. 

    Azi kept driving until even the city’s tallest tower was no longer in sight and then he continued on his way, along the long stretch of highway. An hour or two after that, the dog saw a building emerge over the horizon.

    It was a deluxe gas, diner, and bar truckstop.

    Azi turned on his blinker and pulled off of the highway passing rows and rows of parked sixteen-wheelers. As he navigated, his eyes kept scanning the area until he found it. An open space with a figure standing right next to it. As the headlight's beam rolled closer, the figure was illuminated.

    Standing off to the side was an African Wild dog, dressed in a sharp suit and sunglasses, leaning against his sports car. Azi pulled into the spot next to him and wordlessly stepped out of his car, tail wagging, to approach the wild dog named Pilot.

    Pilot just greeted the lone data analyst with a wry smile.

    Thanks to Azi being curious on a chat forum years ago, and a clever bit of computer programming with spirals on Pilot’s end. The African Wild was able to hypnotize Azi into an obedient little follower. During working hours, Azi was a mild-mannered model citizen but the moment he was off the clock he was Pilot’s hypnobitch. 

    Azi tried to stand tall and bring his head up to meet Pilot but failed to do so. After that pathetic display Pilot scoffed and turned away from this car as he made his way across the parking lot towards the bar, allowing Azi the opportunity to meekly follow behind.

    Once he reached the building, Pilot slammed open the front door, strolling like he owned the place. 

    The bar itself was a standard dive bar, dimly lit with the smell of cigarette smoke and spilled beer staining the air. 

    The bar itself was manned by seasoned staff who were no strangers to conflict. Around the worn wooden floor were a few dozen small tables and nothing else.

    Sitting at every stool and table were bears, alligators, lions, hippos, and rhinos. All of them were dressed in the same unofficial trucker uniform: a stained white t-shirt or tank top, worn jeans, boots, and the aura of exhaustion of a long day. 

    As every set of eyes fell upon Pilot and Azi, the timid little mutt noticed that each one had a hunger for excitement in their eyes.

    With all that attention Pilot just sauntered in, walking past the bartender, towards the bathroom. Not wanting to be the only one standing alone in the doorway, Azi hurried along to follow Pilot to the back. 

    Pilot pulled open the men’s bathroom and held it open for Azi to walk through. 

    Stepping into the bathroom, Azi took in all the sights. The bathroom was maintained with the same care as the rest of the bar. The poorly lit room illuminated grimy floors and dirty graffiti-covered walls. Pilot quickly followed behind Azi, closing and locking the door, as Azi continued to look around the area. 

    It had two sets of sinks and mirrors, one urinal, and two bathroom stalls, each as dirty as the walls around it. One of the bathroom stalls was in such disarray that the top half of the plastic stall door was violently torn off, leaving only the bottom half of the door still on its hinges. On the remaining segment of that torn-off door, a few feet up from the floor, a massive hole was drilled into the plastic. Resting just below that on the floor was a fluffy pastel blue bath mat that Azi could tell just by looking at it had not been cleaned in a long time.

    Azi looked at it for a half beat before he turned back to Pilot, who was just waiting for his reaction. 

    The African Wild Dog flashed the mutt a wicked smile and said, “get over to the other side of the door, pup. That’s an order.”

    With only a whimper as a response, Azi drooped his head, opened the broken bathroom stall door, stepped in, turned around, and knelt down on the mat. Azi grimaced as the wet mat seeped passed his work pants and into his fur.

    Once he got used to that, Azi rested his paws on his knees and aligned his mouth to the hole, opening his maw as his flat pink tongue lobbed out. 

    From where Azi was kneeling, he could just barely see the top of Pilot’s head over the broken bathroom door. Despite that, he watched Pilot move from his position and unlocked the bathroom door to stick his head out. Azi could see but not hear what he better said before he closed the door again.

    A half minute later the door swung open as a figure of a rhino loomed in the doorway. A massive and intimidating beast that could easily pin Azi to the wall with one arm any day of the week. Azi saw Pilot raise his paw, palm up, into the air as the rhino slapped a crumpled bill into the wild dog’s paw before he moved forward. The rhino locked his eyes on Azi and strolled over to the kneeling mat, hands already busy unzipping his jeans. Once he was standing on the other side of the half door, the rhino trucker gave Azi a once over before he let out a snort and fed his cock through the glory hole.

    If Azi’s mouth was not already ready to receive the rhino it would have dropped in astonishment. The mutt’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets as a massive slab of meat. It was gray, thick, and veiny. 

    The moment the cock appeared on the other side of the glory hole, so did its scent. The distinct aroma of musk, sweat, and precum came crashing into the poor pup’s nose. Thanks to Pilot’s extensive hypno training, it caused Azi’s mouth to water with anticipation. Azi could not wait and quickly latched his maw around the rhino’s cock and savored the sensation of the initial taste. The mutt let out a satisfied moan as he felt the huge cock continue to slide toward the back of his throat.

    “Fuck! He’s really suckin’ nice and hard” exclaimed the rhino as he continued to ease himself deeper in, “The fucker’s practically trained to take my cock”.

    “Because he was,” mused Pilot. 

    Pilot had pushed various hypno files and forced physical training onto Azi to push the limit before today’s big debut. 

    On the other end of the stall door, Azi’s training took over as the mutt’s body unconsciously began to reposition itself. His back began to straighten, while his bent legs and arms moved into the ideal pose to maintain for a prolonged period of time. As that happened, Azi’s tongue and maw were set into their own practiced routines, working by combining the tongue swirling with the massaging rhythmic motions of the maw’s suckling. 

    The rhino let out another grunt of approval from the other side as the broken door. The trucker began to grind up against the glory hole, causing the head of his cock to slide right into and down Azi’s throat.

    Once a cooperative rhythm could be found between Azi and the rhino, the drive bar’s bathroom began to fill with the sounds of slurps, grunts, and moans. At that Azi felt a sense of relief wash over himself, a type of subtle pleasure that comes from fulfilling a purpose. 

    The mutt did not know if that purpose originated from inside of him or if it was placed there by Pilot. It did not matter.

    Azi just let the moment take him, enjoying the solace as he rolled his eyes up into the back of his head as the rhino’s pace steadily increased. 

    It was only when Azi heard the sounds of hands clasping onto the metal bars and a shack of plastic frames was when he was brought back to the present. The mutt opened his eyes and cast them upwards to see the trucker grabbing each side of the stall with his massive hands.

    Through bared teeth, the trucker uttered, “Fuck! Here it comes” while giving one last deep thrust all the way to the back of Azi’s throat.

    A half second later, Azi felt an explosion of thick cum at the base of his throat. The office’s mutt’s preprogrammed instincts took over as his mouth became the process of swallowing the load.

    No amount of hypnotic training or practice could have been a match to the sheer volume of the rhino.

    In that instant, Azi’s throat backed up, filling up the rest of Azi’s maw before it began spilling out of the corner of his lips.

    A poorly timed gag followed by a series of wet coughs caused the rest of the cum to come sputtering out. Pulling his head away, the rest of the load fell unceremoniously onto Azi’s button-down and dress pants, soaking them through on the other sides.

    A few moments pass by as both Azi and the stranger just stood there, regaining their strength and composure. 

    Once the trucker regained their breath, he turned away from the broken stall and said, “Fuckin’ hell, that’s one of the best mouths I felt this side of the mountains”. 

    That was followed by the sound of a zipper being pulled up and a loud high-five from where Pilot was last standing.

    “Reckon he needs a minute or do you want me to send in the next one?”

    Pilot chimed in. “Nah, keep them coming. He’ll bounce back soon enough.”

    “Alright,” chuckled the rhino as Azi heard his heavy footsteps descend, “I'm sure the next guy is already raring to go”.

    With that comment, Azi moves off from his haunches, lifting himself up just enough to peer over the bottom half of the broken bathroom stall. 

    As he did so, Azi saw the trucker’s back as he opened the door to make his exit. Between the gap made by the rhino and the doorframe, Azi saw every single one of the bar guests in a single file line right in front of the bathroom. 

    As the rhino left, he high-fived the next in line, a burly bear, who was already easing his way inside.

    Azi’s eyes went back to Pilot who returned the look with a glance as a wicked grin spread across his face. 

    “Looks like a late night…. Oh and don't worry, I already called you out sick tomorrow.”


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    Patreon Suggested Story: October 2022

    Thomas received it in the mail a few days ago. An envelope, sealed in wax, held a formal invitation to the city’s most exclusive club, ‘the Estate”.

    As Thomas unfolded the high-quality paper the letter read, “You are formally invited to the Estate for the annual ‘Haves and Have-nots” bash. You have already been assigned to a group, please see the enclosed card for your classification.”

    The letter continued with the date and time of the event.

    Nestled in the envelope was also a plastic badge with a metal clothespin on top. The badge was pure red with, “Haves 2022” typed out in solid black lettering.

    After reading and rereading the invite, Thomas stared at the badge in his hand. While he always wanted to, he never considered himself an active member of any club scene except for the few times he was out with his braver friends.

    Even if he was part of the clubbing scene, the Estate was notorious for its long waitlists and high-profile members. The club’s legendarily lavish parties were always discussed in hushed whispers around the city the next day. 

    Thomas had no idea how or why he was selected for their invite list. 

    On such short notice, Thomas did everything he could to make himself presentable which included digging through his closet for any bit of clubbing clothes followed by going to the store to complete the attire.

    When the night of the event arrived, Thomas got himself into his outfit and tried to psych himself up as he clipped the badge to his shirt, got in his car and headed into the city. Thomas tried his best to arrive fashionably late but even now, a massive line of people wrapped around the tall sleek building of the Estate. 

    The line was full of people dressed in designer clothes and had stylized hair and makeup that made Thomas immediately self-conscious about what he was wearing.

    Feeling a bit dejected, Thomas made his way to the back of the line before one of the bouncers manning the line took notice of him.

    “You received an invite?” the staff said as he nodded towards Thomas’s clip-on badge, “head to the front of the line, you’re VIP”.

    Stunned, Thomas stepped out of the line and followed the bouncer’s orders while trying to ignore the signs and groans of disapproval from the others around him. 

    Once at the front of the line, Thomas met another bouncer who just glanced at Thomas’s badge and cocked his thumb over his shoulder. Taking that cue, Thomas made his way through the front door.

    Inside the Estate was exactly what all the rumors said it was and so much more. The club was dimly lit, save for the strobe lights that illuminated the sunken dance floor as it flashed and pulsed to the beat of the music. 

    Off to one side was a massive crowded bar with a wall of liquor bottles. The bar was staffed with bartenders who were moving around and creating drinks for the crowd at near-inhuman speed. Along the other walls were booths filled with people furiously making out. As Thomas watched the slew of people grinding against each Thomas blushed. 

    After surveying his options, Thomas decided to head towards the dance floor in an attempt to integrate himself into the crowd. As Thomas descended down he noticed that even within the crowd, there were club servers expertly navigating through the floor as they balanced trays of free drinks and offered them to the partygoers.

    Once there, Thomas quickly became aware that he was not the only one feeling out of place. Around the dance floor, he noticed that about half of the people had various expressions of awkwardness, and they also tried to blend in with the other halves, who actually looked like they belonged.

    “Hi there,”

    Thomas heard a voice crystal clear over the dance floor’s noise, from right behind him. 

    Turning around Thomas cast his eyes down toward a young petite person who was energetically dancing next to him.

    He had a head of blonde hair that could only be described as ‘professionally moppy’ and a dazzling set of eyes that seemed to catch the club’s strobe lights every time. The person was wearing a fishnet top and a pair of black designer skinny jeans. On his waist was clipped a similar black and red plastic badge that read “Have nots”.

    As Thomas stood there, slightly dumbfounded at the sight of the bona-fide twink, the stranger continued to smile and dance while keeping his eyes locked on Thomas. 

    Just before it would become too awkward, the dancer chimed up with, “My name’s Utarefson.”

    “Utar-ef…?” Thomas verbally stumbled before the person in front of him.

    “U-tar is just fine,” he said, laughing at the verbal spectacle before following it up with a flirtatious, “just like you.”

    Thomas was taken aback by the response, but before he could reply, a more cautious part of his brain alerted him of potential danger. With that signal, Thomas became a bit more guarded against the dance. 

    Sensing the hesitation, Utar laughed and waved down one of the servers. Once he could get one in arm’s reach Utar grabbed two glasses off the tray, downed one, and extended the other towards Thomas. 

    With a smirk, Utar commented, “Don't worry about that, I’m much older than I look and certainly allowed to be here and have my own fun.”

    At the sight of that sudden development, Thomas lowered his guard and accepted the alcoholic drink.

    Possibly because of that one drink in his system, Thomas began to loosen up and feel a bit more at ease on the dance floor. The music continued playing as the rest of the club danced around them as Utar gave Thoams his full attention. After a few more songs and free drinks, Thomas became bold enough to return some of Utar’s playful advances.

    After a while, Utar moved in closer with that look in his eyes and asked, “Do you want to get some privacy?”

    A rush of exhilaration coursed through Thomas as he nodded his answer. 

    Utar smirked once more and bringing his hand up, beckoned Thomas away from the crowded dance pit. The twink led Thomas toward the back end of the club, to a set of double doors that was manned by two additional bouncers. The pair stirred to attention before Utar unclipped and flashed his ‘have nots’ badge. Without needing to say a word, the two moved to the side and welcomed them both through.

    Utar strolled past them confidently and pushed the doors open and Thomas quietly hurried in as well.

    The other side of the door was a long dark hallway lined with doors on both sides. Utar led Thomas down the hallway without any ounce of hesitation, while making sure to check over that Thomas was not falling behind.

    As Thomas walked by the rooms, he heard the sounds of moans and gasps from just beyond the doors. Every single one of them sounded like they were having the times of their lives. 

    About halfway through the walk down the hallway Thomas cleared his throat and asked, “So what’s the purpose of these badges?” as he touched his ‘Haves’ badge on his chest.

    “It's to help identify the different types, silly” Utar playfully replied before he stopped by an unoccupied room.

    Utar grasped the handle and swung it open, welcoming Thomas to step through.

    The room itself was as small as he expected it to be. The room was rectangular in shape with a small black leather sofa pressed against the back wall. The remaining space was only big enough for two people to stand. It was obvious what this room was designed for. 

    The moment that the door closed behind Thomas, Utar pounced. Wrapping his slender arms around Thomas, he spun Thomas around and brought his lips towards Thomas’s neck to deliver a flurry of kisses. Starting on one side of his neck, Utar moved up toward Thomas’s face, as the twink’s hands moved down to explore the torso. 

    With each moment Utar’s lips made contact with his neck, Thomas felt another rush of excitement course through him as his skin began to tingle. Thomas steadied himself, then brought his arms around Utar and tried to return some of the barrages of kisses.

    But Utar was shown to be too fast for Thomas to land a kiss after a bit of awkward struggling, Utar finally acknowledged him enough to lean up and deliver a kiss right on his lips.

    The kiss was mind blowing as it sent a shock straight to Thomas’s head and shivers down his spine. 

    Utar held the kiss there before he pulled away. As he pulled away, Utar’s hands crawled down Thomas’s back and grasped the hem of his shirt, and started to pull it up and over Thomas’s head, exposing Thomas’s bare chest. 

    Once that was off, Utar moved back onto Thomas’s face and made his way downwards. Starting at Thomas’s chin, then leaving a series of kisses as Utar moved down onto his neck, then collarbone, and then arrived at the pecs. Utar moved in more and locked his lips around his erect nipples, teasing them with his lips and teeth sending Thomas’s body into overdrive.

    Stunned by the sudden escalation, the wild sensations, and the fact that this was all happening to him, it took Thomas all he could muster to keep standing on his two feet as Utar continued to lean into him more.

    It was only when Thomas’s knees buckled that Utar stopped his kissing assault and cast his eyes up toward Thomas, who was pale and breathing heavily.

    “Oh, right, You,” Utar said, before he wrapped his arms back around Thomas’s back, pivoted, and eased Thomas into a controlled crash onto the leather sofa.

    From that position, Utar stood over Thomas looking down at him with those spectacular dazzling eyes. Some part of Thomas’s hazy brain informed him that just past Utar’s eyes, was barely restrained hunger. Utar cast his eyes further downwards, then proceeded to kneel down, and began to undo Thomas’s pants. 

    As that was happening and the only thing that Thomas could think about was the cool leather sofa pressed against his back. All that Thomas could do was bring his hand up and rested it on Utar’s head as the twink continued with his heavy petting. 

    Glancing back up at Thomas, Utar made a show of how he pinched the pull tab of the zipper with his fingers, and slowly slid it down. Following that Utar went back to pull the elastic of Thomas’s underpants down, making sure to slide down the length of Thomas’s erect cock in such a way that it bounced back up at attention. 

    It was all Thomas could do to prevent losing himself in the excitement. 

    Utar’s eyes became fixated on the meat in front of him as he used his slender fingers each into Thomas’s pants to scoop the balls up and to rest them outside of the elastic. Utar playfully batted at it a few times as licked his lips with excitement.

    Utar made one more look back at Thomas before he slowly lowered his head as lips slightly parted and delivered a kiss followed by a small suck on the top of the head

    That act alone brought Thomas right to the edge as his legs spasmed on either side of Utar. 

    After that show, Utar paused for a moment, pulled back a lock of his messy hair, and said, “I'm going to milk you dry, do try to keep up.”

    As the word left his lips before Utar puckered his lips and lowered his head back down, lettering his lips effortlessly encompassed and slid down Thomas’s shaft in one simple motion.

    Thomas had to squeeze his eyes shut as he felt the tingling inducing lips of Utar give way to the heat from the inside of his mouth. The sensation was surreal and caused Thomas’s toes to curl inside his shoes. As Thomas took another deep breath to steady himself as Utar’s lips reached the base of the cock.

    Seeing that reaction Utar laughed and held that position as he used the tongue to wrap around Thomas’s shaft. He then transitioned into sucking Thomas off as he bobbed up and down in a rhythmic motion.

    “Oh fuck” was the only thing that Thomas could say as the sensory onslaught completely blindsided him. 

    He flung his head back against the sofa’s back cushion with a gasp as he felt the telltale of an orgasm forming.

    Utar disregarded the gasps and he continued uninterrupted with his motions.

    Despite Thomas’s best efforts to postpone it, he felt the mounting pressure became too much. With a defeated, yet satisfied, groan Thomas felt the sensation of his load rushing through the length of his cock. Thomas felt his cock twitch inside of Utar’s mouth as wave after wave of cum flooded the twink’s mouth.

    To Utar’s credit, he slurped it up while never breaking his own rhythm. Thomas felt Utar’s tongue scoop up the load that was already sliding down his shaft while continuing his head bobbing.

    Thomas never experienced an orgasm that powerful before and was soon reduced to a gasping mess as he fell against the leather sofa. Thomas heard a delighted moan from Utar as he slowly pulled himself away from Thomas’s groin.

    “Newbies always have the best loads,” Utar said more to himself, “but I'm not done yet.” 

    Utar locked his dazzling eyes onto Thomas and flashed him a smile before he lowered himself back down again. Utar let loose one deep exhale through his nose before he resumed his technique with renewed vigor and speed. 

    Taken aback by both what Utar said and did, Thomas could do nothing but watch Utar work his magic mouth and tongue. Thomas then felt his blood begin to flow back into his spent cock as it began to stand back up to fully erect.

    In even less time than before, Thomas felt that pressure began to form again. Thomas let out another pleasure-filled moan as his body gave out and shot another equally powerful load into Utar’s mouth.

    Now completely drained, Thomas collapsed and sprawled his arms back onto the couch, eyes closed and gasping for air as Utar stayed in his spot between Thoams’s legs. Between the gasps and pants, Thomas heard Utar chuckle, “I'm still hungry.~”

    Followed by Thomas feeling Utar’s mouth begin to rhythmically move again, coaxing his cock to come back to life once more.

    Then everything faded to black.

    This story topic was voted on by the wonderful Avid Readers on my Patreon! For October’s poll the winning story prompt was “Vampires  


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    December 2022 Patreon Story Poll heads up

    This post is just to highlight a new Story Prompt Poll that’s currently live on my Patreon! The topics to vote on this month are:

    -Electro Play

    -Back Alley Street Bondage

    -Exhibitionism in Public

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