Red in the Face and Cheeks

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Author Notes on Patreon Suggested Story: August 2022

Author’s Notes is a long-running series on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories. It includes writing tricks I used for certain scenes and how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

Link to the story in question 

I will say that this particular story was the most challenging one to write about, by a country mile. The core story idea revolved around being exposed to aphrodisiac slime, which meer contact would send someone into a sexual frenzy.

The first story draft was going to be a high fantasy setting starring a newish adventurer who was exploring a cave and then gets ambushed by a living slime and then gets milked dry by the process. That first draft also included a whole town that was ‘corrupted’ by the slimes and was responsible for sending new adventures on the same ‘quest’ as tribute. Very much like the story of Innsmouth by H.P Lovecraft.

I even was going to use different color slimes, and their effects, that the adventurer could list during the moment of initial panic from the assault.

As I began composing that story I realized that the effort involved with world building and laying down the clues would cause the story to be too long.

I then tried to pair it down and just involve one adventurer, who had just recently graduated from an adventurer school, and was given his first low-level quest investigating some mysterious noises in a cave.

Even that was too much, so instead, I decided to do a much simpler ‘handler and you’ story. It felt like a major cop-out from the original design but this way I would not get bogged down by creating a believable setting and actually finish the story.

For the story proper, I kept it short, sweet, and basic with the handler casually announcing during the morning rituals that he already signed ‘you’ up for a mysterious event that day.

I was going to set the location of the experiment to be at the shady warehouse lot but on further reflection, I decided to change it to a chemical testing laboratory to give the scene more of a scientific feel to it. On top of that, I wrote the lab’s interior as a white and sterile environment with the staff wearing lab coats just to hammer home that message.

To string along the suspense, I had both the protagonists be asked to change out of his clothes and into an unpolished latex catsuit before the main event could even begin in the main room with the other unsuspecting guinea pigs.

After all that, it was time for the big experiment to take place. The experiment of watching people react to having aphrodisiac slime being sprayed from the ceiling, Nickelodeon style. Nothing but the hardest-hitting scientific experiments for my stories.

For story pacing and under the guise of ‘scientific discovery’ I staggered out the aphrodisiac slime in waves. First was the baseline, then quarter dose, half dose, and finally full dose. With each application, I made sure to dedicate some time to the protagonist’s reaction to the slime as well as build up the mounting sexual tension that would eventually lead to the orgy.

PS: I know that not clearing out the room after every new spray would result in a skewed experiment since the participants would be exposed to the collective one-and-three-quarters doses of the slime. I know, and I don't care.

The color-changing mood lights were a carryover from the different colored slimes from my world-building notes.

Describing the slime was easy since I have watched a lot of Nickelodeon slime clips growing up and I remembered the actors and celebrities reacted as soon as they were covered with it.

As the story went on I faced difficulty describing the pheromones that the protagonist was inhaling from the slime. I never explored that concept with my stories before, outside of some scent play, so I went for the prose of an ‘invisible and intangible sense’.

Once established it allowed me to lead to the heightened arousal the protagonist was feeling as his focus, and eventual physical body drifted towards the most arousing parts of the others.

For the action itself, I envisioned the events starting with one person being confident enough to seize another for some fondling. Then the rest would gravitate towards those two, like how celestial bodies would be drawn into a black hole. Once that was set, I had the protagonist both being pulled towards the others while trying to resist the allure before his willpower gave way with the electrifying kiss.

After that point of no return, the story’s focus dissolved into a blur of slimy sex and slippery sensory experiences before it all faded to black.

After the action, I decided to be mean and have the members be woken up with a jet of cold water from the hose. Just to form a contrast against the raging bender. Once they were cleaned off, the protagonist would get his clothes and leave, but not before a teaser from the lab staff asking if your handler could volunteer the protagonist for another experiment in the future.

Despite the hassle it took for me to solidify the story that was posted, I did find some enjoyment in the slow burn of the build-up followed by the wild events after the last dose.

***

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 your support.

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Author Notes on The New King Koopa

Author’s Notes is a long-running series on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories. It includes writing tricks I used for certain scenes and how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

Link to the story in question 

It was only a matter of time before I dipped my toe into video games and comic book intellectual property. Truth be told, I tried to stay away from it as a personal choice but a request resulted in me changing that rule.

The request itself was given to me with most of the story laid out.

The premise was that Bowser abandoned his castle, the kingdom is in disarray, and a Kamek is creating a new Bowser by sculpting one out of black goo.

Fun Fact: The same type of Bowser seen in the Bowser's Fury in the New Super Mario 3D World Remaster on the Nintendo Switch!

But as a result of the story, the Boswer that is created is a bit more seuxually charged and the project soon gets out of hand as the new Bowser transforms the kingdom into himbos, jocks and doms.

From the get-go, I was given a pretty clear outline to work with, complete with characters, motives, and methods. All I would need to do is flesh out everything else, simple enough.

Going into this, I knew that the sculpting and building up of this goo creature had to be the main focus of the story since it was the main focus of the unnamed Kamek. This process had to show the reader the importance that the Kamek had in his perception of Bowser’s leadership.

To best convey that importance, I took inspiration from the tale of Pygmalion. It is, of course, another Greek story of the legendary sculptor who carved a stone statue of a woman so beautiful that he fell in love with it. He then begged Aphrodite, the goddess of love, to turn his statue into a real woman. Aphrodite granted his wish and the sculptor and the woman went off to get married and live the rest of their lives together.

That story helped me provide the point of view for how the Kamek should view creating this goo project since he was originally going to do it out of a passion for his old kingdom and a perfect leader. It was also a great way to segue into Kamek getting his mental wires crossed and conflicting traits of a strong authoritarian leader with a sexy dominator.

Because I knew how much time and effort it takes to sculpt a figure with clay with realistic muscles and scales, I used the magic of the goo to handwave the hassle as it automatically fills in the finer details. The living goo aspect also created an object for Kamek to interact with and play off of for the remainder of the story as he is left to his own devices.

Fun fact: The materials that were smuggled into the study hall at the beginning were supposed to be Bowser’s toenail clipping and hair, taken from the royal shower room to make the Goo Bowser take form. That detail was cut for brevity.

Once the body mass was ironed out, I moved on to the goo monster’s hair and accessories.

With the theme of confusing the romanticized traits of a strong leader with the lust of a dom, it gave me the ability for the Kamek to take some liberties with the final project as seen with the body hair, tattoo, and piercings.

Once the goo body was finally completed and because I dedicated enough time to the story, I had the bower creature wake up with full mental abilities and purpose from the moment it opened its eyes. Following that was a very brief Frankenstein scene where the new Bowser talks about his plans for the future before turning against its creator.

Then came a fade to black as I jumped forward to the ending scene, with the new Bowser on the throne with the newly remodeled Kamek by his side. I filled in the readers with an exposition of this Bowser's rise to power while it’s in the process of transforming a servant into its ‘better version’.

On the whole, this was a fun story to write about. I personally enjoy depicting the artistic passion that comes from creating something that is nothing short of complete self-indulgence. I’m saying that from plenty of personal experience.

***

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 your support.

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

The True Pumpkin King

This story was created as a gift for Dragonmate7 Royce sat at his desk muttering to himself, tail swishing aimlessly behind him as he was going over the stack of papers that made up the daily reports from all his various organizations. The clouded leopard finished reading the one currently in his hands, jotted a few lines in his personal notebook, and placed the report on the ‘completed’ pile. 

Royce then yawned as he stretched his arms over his head, and decided to indulge himself in a small break. He stood up, adjusted the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt, ran his pawwed hand through his shoulder-length hair, and headed over to the set of floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse suite.

As the clouded leopard moved from his desk, something quietly crawled through the air vents.

Royce strolled over to the window next to the bar stand, displaying a tantalus and a matching set of crystal glasses. Once there, he gazed out the window, admiring both the nighttime skyline, illuminated by the city lights, and the full moon overhead.

Whoever says that running an organized criminal empire was fun and easy was lying through their teeth, at least about the second half.

Sure, there were some leaders, usually the second or third generation children of the founders, who truly comprehended the blood, sweat, and tears it took to build up an organization into a well-oiled machine. Those types of people often place the value of fun over hard work, and as a result, they tend to burn through their organization’s cash like it was their own personal trust fund. Once that money dries up, the entire machine either comes to a screeching halt, or the next leader would create… an opening to fast-track themselves to the head of the table and take the reins. 

While Royce was a fellow third-generation mob leader, his rise to power was a bit more unconventional than that of his peers. While his rise to the top was practically destined by being the only direct heir to the crime lord, it was an overseas trip during his college years that solidified his fate. While navigating the twisting roads of an old city, he stumbled upon a tome of ancient knowledge, which opened his eyes to the world of the arcane. Royce spent his time poring over the pages in secret, deciphering the old text and absorbing all the knowledge held within it. He soon discovered that he had a knack for ‘persuading’ the minds, bodies, and souls of others. Soon, he was able to create a brand new avenue of blackmail and bribery for his family, which secured his role as the next crime lord, even if nobody knew exactly how he was able to manage it.

With the full resources of the organization at his disposal, he was able to bolster his abilities and seize even more power throughout the city’s underside and elevate his family’s organization to new heights.

Even with all that power, even Royce knew that the most important aspect of running an organization, especially of this size with so many moving pieces, was to make sure that it kept moving. That requires him to read through every report, go over every development update, and double-check all the invoices to ensure that everyone was happy, or at least paid off.

The clouded leopard sighed loudly at the undeniable truth; it was dull work, but someone still had to make sure the checks were signed.

And yet, Royce reflected, as he shifted his focus towards the translucent reflection of himself in the window. He flashed himself a grin and allowed his eyes to flash with electric lilac energy while his long tail swished behind him as he mentally reminded himself, ‘There are plenty of benefits to being at the top.’

As the clouded leopard did so, the ventilation shaft overhead was carefully removed and placed to the side.

With his skills with magic, Royce was able to “compel” some high-ranking city officials into being photographed in rather compromising positions. Which in turn, allowed him to bypass some of the more annoying red tape of the expansion and created new establishments for the organization’s money laundering. 

His personal favorite venture was the 24-hour gym, which not only cleaned the cash but also created a place to help recruit new muscle for the more physically intensive jobs. There was also the additional perk for Royce, the documented owner, to peruse the workout area and enjoy the sights, sounds, and aroma of a well-used gym. In fact, that was where he acquired his current muscle-bound boyfriend. 

Just as he was about to reminisce about that first fateful encounter, something pushed itself out of the opening in the ceiling, and out emerged a pumpkin.

The orange pumpkin fell straight down, soaring like a comet with a trail of green vines bellowing from its top. The clouded leopard did not even have time to look up before the gourd crashed upon him, effortlessly engulfing his entire head as the vines streamed around his body. 

Royce’s conscience was thrown into a black void with nothing to perceive except for himself. 

From outside, the clouded leopard’s body remained standing upright as the pumpkin’s vines twitched and slowly began to lift themselves up into the air.

From within the void of the pumpkin, a booming voice rang out.

“FOOLISH MORTAL!” All at once, the void became instantly illuminated by an orange hellfire light with no actual source. Royce, in an incorporeal facsimile of his naked body, was greeted by an endless field of ghostly vines. Millions of miles writhing translucent green vines, each overlapping, creating a garbled mess of squirming madness.

In the physical world, a cracking sound emerged from deep within the gourd, as two triangular eye holes, a matching set of nose holes, and a jagged grin below it forced themselves open across the front of the pumpkin shell.

From each fissure, the same hellfire light shone through. Back in the plane of writhing mass of ghostly vines, the voice continued, “You are in the presence of Cala Blaza, and I have been watching you for quite some time. I have heard how you move within the shadows of the city, consolidating and expanding the reach of your family empire.”

Royce’s expression remained unreadable as the entity carried on. “My cultists have spent months gathering everything to create the vessel to carry me to you,  and now, at long last, I am delighted to say it’s time for me to ‘muscle in’ and enact a ‘hostile takeover’ of every part of you.”

A thunderous laughter rolled through the field of vines as Royce felt an unseen and intangible presence flow into his body. It started at his head, seeping in from around the pumpkin, cascading down into the core of his chest, and then out to his extremities.

“I even had to wait until the full moon to launch my attack. I applaud you for your late-night work ethic… even if it spelled your doom!”

Royce just remained still as the spirit continued to flow into his body and began to operate it. Within the office, the clouded leopard’s right arm jerked in stiff, rigid motions, as if each muscle was being flexed one at a time, as it brought its hand up to the face. The fingers were then moved into position to allow the index finger to rub against the static thumb. Here, an expression of surprise streaked across Royce’s face as he looked down at the spectral version of his hand, witnessing how it remained open at his side as took in the sensation of rubbing his fingertips together.

From the outside, the body gave the right hand an experimental twist of the wrist as it wiggled the fingers in front of the jack-o-lantern’s face with a bit more fluidity than before. As Cala Blaza’s cackle emerged from inside the gourd and echoed out from the jagged holes.

“It has been so long since I have been able to touch anything, to experience the sensation of the physical world… to have a body once more!” The processed body of the clouded leopard brought its other hand up and began to rub them together as the rest of its body remained completely motionless. The spirit within shuddered with excitement as the vines that were attached to the pumpkin stem began to writhe in anticipation.

Royce maintained his neutral expression but silently marveled at the sensation that he was sharing with this intruding spirit. He felt the action of rubbing his hands together a million times before, but this time, he was experiencing it without his permission to do so.

The spirit continued to explore his freedom by moving the palms of each hand down the opposite forearm until they collided with the rolled-up sleeves of the button-down shirt. As the hands ran over the bunched-up fabric, Cala Blaza let loose a sound of disgust. “You mortals with your shame and desire to always cover up your body,” the spirit chided within Royce, “even with the bodies you sculpt for yourself, you still decide to drape yourself in these rags… denying the world the sight of your true form.” The pumpkin vines moved up to surround the clouded leopard’s body, turning in on the host, poised to attack as if they were snakes, all staring at the last morsel in the den.

There was a mere half-second beat of them just staying there.

Then all at once, the vines descended on the clouded leopard’s body, moving with perfect precision as each found an opening. Whether it was under the sleeves, up the pant legs, or even down through the neck collar, all began to assert their way in. As they wiggled through the space between the fabric and the fur, the occasional sound of popped stitches was heard within the quiet room.

The vines pushed their way through until they all met at the midsection of the leopard. Once the tendrils pressed themselves closer to the body, and then squirmed against it. Cala Blaza let out a cackle of glee from both in and outside the pumpkin as it savored the full sensation, while Royce was forced to experience it as well.

Then, in unison, all the vines flexed and pushed themselves outwards. There was only the slightest of resistances as the expensive fabric gave way to a cacophony of “riiips”, “Pop!”s, and “ttTEeart”s followed by an explosion of fabric.

A confetti of high thread count scraps fluttered through the air, revealing both the muscle-toned body of the clouded leopard underneath and the impressive set of cock and balls, now swinging free from their cloth confinement. “THERE we go!” purred Cala Blaza as he forced the body into a double bicep pose in front of the penthouse window.

“It feels so good to move again, to feel the muscles flex and twist against each other, to feel the blood pumping through the veins of the body as it moves from my will~” the pumpkin spirit said as he carried on flexing through different poses.

As he cycled through his poses, Cala Blaza brought a pair of vines in and wrapped them around each arm to begin fondling the muscles from the outside.

“My informants have relayed stories about how skilled you are at extorting and how you swoon your targets and then use yourself to create the blackmail material with them and shame them into submission. And from the size of your cock,” the spirit said as the head of one of the vines snaked down, coming in from at his thigh, as it cupped the balls “...I can see why it’s your favorite method.” 

The end of the vine then reached out from under the clouded leopard’s balls, coiling up around the dick’s shaft with its midsection, stroking it while the vine’s tip began toying with the head.

A shudder of pleasure escaped from Cala Blaza’s gourd as the cock got hard.

“My cultists have whispered stories about how well you take care of the company you keep, especially your underlings, in both ways…” as another vine approached, wrapping around both ankles and began corkscrewing around the left leg until it reached the leopard’s rear and began playfully bouncing his cheeks.

“While I am more than eager to see the full extent of what this body can do with others,” the spirit teased towards Royce’s conscience, “I am going to take my time and enjoy this all for myself before I fully take over.”

At that, a vine wrapped around the ankles, snapped together, and yanked itself forward, sweeping the feet of the clouded leopard’s right from under it and causing the body to fall backwards.

The vines around the arms tightened, locking the limbs in place as the rest of the vines, acting in unison, whipped behind the body, each making a crescent moon shape, as they bent back up to catch the falling body.

Within the blink of an eye, the clouded leopard went from standing upright to being suspended in the air with arms and feet fully bound.

From within the void, Royce’s face flashed a look of startlement as his spirit self widened his stance, as if trying to steady himself against an unseen earthquake. Once he realized that he was not going to hit the ground, Royce regained his neutral stance while resuming his nonplused expression for the uninvited guest.

“Such a good feeling, isn’t it? To be suspended in the air, fully embraced by my vines,” Cala Blaza laughed as the vines began to squirm across the body, “And because I am a ‘generous’ spirit, I am going to allow you to experience all of this before I devour your essence completely. Consider it as a goodbye gift.~”

Royce felt the mass of vines that held his body up shift positions, leaning him back even more, as the heads of the vines began to eagerly run themselves back over him. He felt two come up and over the collarbones and down the front, with each head veering off to explore the respective armpits. They both seemed to almost savor the experiences as they rolled around the thick tufts of fur. Once satisfied, the pair looped around the shoulders, further securing them in place before slithering down, stopping to tease at the nipples, before they carried down to the navel.

The two that were wrapped around the arms forced the limbs to straighten as each continued twisting down the forearms until they reached and began tickling the clouded leopard’s palms. From below the waist, Royce felt the vine that snared his ankles begin to loosen its grip and fell away as another set of vines crept in around his thighs, forcing his legs to widen as they circled down his calves. Both vines secured the respective ankles before they moved on to caressing the bottom of the pawed feet.

All the while, the vine curled around the cock continued to pulse rhythmically.

Even though the body was in the process of being hijacked, it still reacted to the barrage of sensations. The heart rate increased, and the breathing became shallower, as the head of the twitching cock began pumping out precum that glistened in the lights of the penthouse.

And Royce felt both the vines and how his body was responding to it all, with his spectral form blushing as he let out a startled gasp as the full extent of the sensory onslaught took shape. Old habits took over as Royce,  attempting to save face, turned his spirit head to the side, covering his mouth with a closed fist as he willed himself to recompose his stoic demeanor. 

From all around the infinite shifting vines of his plain, the voice of Cala Blaza laughed as he also reveled in both the sensation and in Royce’s reaction.

“It is so good to feel all this glorious sensation! It has been so long since I could run my vines against a body … to feel the full height, length, and width of these pleasures in and outside of a mortal host. And let it be known, despite my powers over you, I am not influencing your body’s actions. It is enjoying this just as much as I am.”

As if to deliver a twist of the knife with that last statement, Cala Blaza brought all the vines up to double time as the clouded leopard’s body now began to involuntarily buck against the full-body restraints as a stream of precum began to flow from the cock. The room was then filled by the quiet squelching sound as the slick precum was picked up and spread up and down the shaft by the still stroking vine.

“Rest assured, I am nowhere near done exploring all of you,” the spirit teased as the vines hoisting up the body repositioned themselves with the two remaining vines rising up under the clouded leopard’s tail and began to scoop up the excess precum that managed to collect at the balls.

Once both vines were thoroughly coated, they fell back as they began twisting around each other, forming a double spiral, positioning themselves against the only unexplored area of the clouded leopard’s body. 

In preparation, the pair of vines that was supporting the leopard’s legs slid the base of themselves up towards his rear to slowly pull the cheeks apart to expose the puckering asshole to the makeshift dildo.

Cala Blaza indulged in a moment of suspense as everything was lined up before he brought the twisted vines towards the new opening. Once the spiraled vines met the asshole, it paused its advancement to allow the combined tips to better inspect the hole up close.

From the ethereal void, Royce felt how this spirit started toying with his asshole. He felt how it ran around the circumference of his body’s involuntary twitching hole, slavering it with its own precum, as the rest of the vines wrapped around his body began writhing, as if equally excited for what was coming next. There was one more playful prod, then the vine before it struck. The spiraled pair shoved itself in, producing a squelching sound of his asshole giving way.

Despite knowing it was going to happen, Royce’s spirit self still arched his back and even craned his head around to confirm that the penetration was only happening to one version of himself. After verifying that was the case, he brought himself back around as he let out an amused moan, closing his eyes and easing his stance.

From all around, Royce heard the ecstatic, self-indulgent moans of the spirit as he continued to push the vine dildo deeper in,  “Oh my, the intel I have about your … prowess was true,” Cala Blaza purred, “you have plenty of experience engaging in all forms of pleasure, I hardly needed to warm your body up to take me.”

The spirit punctuated that last comment with another deeper thrust. “I am going to have fun thoroughly exploring every square inch of you.”

With that, the vines holding up the processed body shifted themselves once more. Each long, squirming tendril adjusted the clouded leopard, leaning it further back and bringing each limb up into the air. The result was a position perfect for a prolonged ass fucking while propping the up in front of the penthouse window, looking over the city that Royce spent years building his own underground empire.

With everything in place, the section of vines wrapped around the leopard’s body broke out into double time. The spiraled vines in the ass acted first, by increasing both their pace and determination to plunge deeper while also incorporating a quarter circle twist of the pumpkin made dildo with every thrust.

Each of the pumpkin vines did its best to molest every bit of the surface that they could reach. From the hands down to the armpits, across the front and back of his torso, and from his toned thighs down to the bottom of his footpads, all moved with reckless abandon. No spot was spared.

Down at the groin, the vine wrapped around the cock joined in, escalating its teasing movements as it continued twisting and squeezing the shaft as the tip of the vine played with the now constantly leaking head. Out of all of them, this one demonstrated some restraint, because just as the body was about to cross over the edge of climaxing, the vine would slam on the brakes, denying the body its release before repeating the process over.

While the spirit was in the process of seizing control of the body, it still managed to respond to the sudden burst of sensation. From all over, muscles spasmed, and limbs wildly bucked from the overstimulation, all while the hips tried to manage to thrust against the vines, doing everything it could to find release.

Even as the vines carried on their assault, they were still steadfast with their restraints, keeping the body locked in place as it mindlessly fought back, all while the illuminated pumpkin head remained fixed in place, expressionlessly staring out over the city.

From inside the head, within the mental world, came the sounds of Cala Blaza echoing throughout the mass of spectral vines as he and now Royce relished every aspect of the experience.

“This is such a divine sort of pleasure,” the spirit moaned as the vines around convolved, “Enjoy these last few moments, because once I conquer your body, I am going to devour your soul and seize everything you built!” Cala Blaza fell back into a cackling delight with the physical vines responding in kind, and Royce’s expression soured. The spirit version of the crime lord rolled his eyes, cleared his throat, and said with an edge of annoyance in his voice, “Hmmm, No. I don’t think I’ll sign off on that last bit.”

A mocking laughter rolled around the plane of ghostly vines, all squirming with anticipation, “And what is this little mortal going to do to stop me?”

As if waiting for that exact challenge, a devilish smirk grew across Royce’s face as his tail swished behind him, “I’m so glad you asked.” 

The crime lord then took a deep breath and uttered a simple two-syllable word.

The language was not common, nor was it from any other spoken language. It was a word that came from a very old book, purchased from a merchant from across the ocean. A book that Royce spent years studying, not just to understand the text but to learn how to harness the power that it contained and to become a master of it.

Even though the word was small, it easily carried the full weight of Royce’s power as it pulsed outward from Royce’s spectral body.

As the power passed over the spectral vines, they all erupted in lilac purple flames, and within a fraction of a moment, the whole infinite field was alight and writhing in pain. From the outside, all of the vines that were fondling the naked clouded leopard went stock still. Leaving the equally still body suspended motionless in the air, with the tendrils mid stroke around the cock and the dildo still fully inserted.

“WhAt Is THis!?” Cala Blaza cried out from within the void.

The crime lord just stood there, totally unbothered by the sudden roaring inferno, just watching as the vines desperately tried to extinguish themselves against each other and failing miserably.

“Really? Did you honestly think that it was going to be that simple?” Royce replied, satisfaction dripping from his voice.

“You think I don't have contacts of my own? That someone like me, who climbed up and secured this position for so long, wouldn’t know of everything that happens in the shadows of my city and beyond?”

On the outside, the crescent moon sections of the vines that held up the clouded leopard’s body began to slowly, practically reluctantly, shuffle as it pivoted the still suspended and motionless body away from the penthouse window and back towards Royce’s office.

From inside, the spirit continued to scream in both astonishment and agony. “I have been building wards since I was in college. I knew you were here the moment you slithered onto my property. Was it not surprising how easy it was for you to get through my security? To scale the elevator shaft and air vents uninterrupted? That on the night of your big move, I was without my bodyguard, and I was in the perfect spot for you to ambush me from above?”

“Wha-!?” Cala Blaza responded, managing to shout out between his own howls of pain.

“Really, for how much you boasted about your little secret cult club… You guys have terrible operational security,” the crime lord added with a smile, revealing the set of pointed teeth that were always lying in wait just underneath his lips.

“I will say, despite your incessant gloating, I did enjoy the full body entertainment. I was even planning to allow you to keep going, to see if you had any more tricks up your sleeves,” Royce said with an almost self-indulgent look on his face. “...but,” he added, with a look of spiteful disappointment, “You just had to ruin it by keeping mentioning how you were going to take my body and hijack my organization. There is nothing I despise more in this world than those who cheat their way to the top.”

“Especially when they are trying to take the spot I worked so hard to get.” The crime lord punctuated the last six words of that last sentence with his eyes flashing that same lilac purple. “I think it’s time to show you exactly how I earned and maintained this position.” With that, Royce drew his spirit form up, mimicking the action of taking a deep, steadying breath.

He then uttered another phrase of power. The magical energy surged out from him, pushing out in the shape of a cone in the form of a mighty gale wind.

As the wind collided with the burning vines, the flames were quickly extinguished and blown away. Those vines crashed against the ones next to them as they were carried along with the same momentum.

Royce saw the tangled mess of vines get whisked away, off to the horizon of this place, pulling the mass of vines behind the crime lord with them, all while Cala Blaza let out one more surprised howl that faded away as the vines disappeared.

From the outside, the vines that held up the clouded leopard looked like they were wilting. The structure that held them up disappeared as, with their last action, they eased the body from its cradled position down to the floor so it could stand back on its own two feet. As soon as it was upright, the neck jerked forward as blazing orange hellfire ecotoplasm was ejected from the jack-o-lantern’s face holes, extinguishing the flame inside the pumpkin.

The ectoplasm was propelled straight outwards, with the momentum quickly decreasing to a halt, to just float in the middle of the air. During the expulsion, the mass of ectoplasm was formed into a 1:1 replica of Royce that was now helplessly floating a half dozen feet away from the jack-o-lantern and vine-covered original. The orange copycat began to twist its back and whip its neck around, desperate to get a view of the surroundings, its form, and then finally back towards the physical leopard.

In the same bewildered voice, yet now without the booming sound effect, Cala Blaza shouted out, “What’s happening!?” A distant laughter emanated from the empty jack-o-lantern head, a laughter that seemed to echo from within an infinite deep cavern as, within the eye sockets, two tiny pinpricks of lilac lights sparked into existence.

The laughter grew both louder and clearer as the pinpricks of lights began barrelling through the void inside the gourd, blossoming into a pair of miniature supernovas. It reached a crescendo as the flames crashed through the triangular eye holes, causing the head to lurch forward and then recoil from the apparent impact. The head rocked back and forth a few times before it came back to an upright position, but now tilted to the side. The mighty lilac fire spread down to fill out the other holes with the flames licking past the thresholds of the pumpkin’s carved face. 

Cala Blaza continued to stare in horror as the laughter finally died down and the neck righted the pumpkin head and turned it towards the leopard facsimile. From the pumpkin head, Royce’s voice spoke out, now with a slight echo, “My, this is quite roomy now that I have the place all to myself.”

The spirit saw the body he once processed began to lift up its arms as it turned its neck, as Royce began inspecting the vines that draped them before moving on to the rest of the body.

“What have you done!?” Cala Blaza shouted as his attention was still torn between the real Royce and the spirit double that he was now. “Why, I’m doing what you want,” Royce replied with a posioned honey sweetness in his voice as he slowly brought his pumpkin-encased head to face the excerized spirit, “I initially was planning on just banishing you away to whatever dark corner of the beyond you emerged from, but… You seemed so keen on experiencing all the pleasures of the physical world that I decided, out of the kindness of my heart, to give you exactly that.” The crime lord nodded to the identical form of Cala Blaza, “...and I honestly could not think of a better form for you to take than of yours truly!” as he ended the sentence with a full body pose.

“I… applaud you for your use of the vines,” Royce carried on, “but I must say, your method of actually implementing them left much to be desired.” From within the carved pumpkin head, the lilac fire flared with power once more as the edge of the flames was tilted towards the stem.

Cala Blaza followed the path and watched as flames filled the stem and moved up into the mess of vines beyond. Flickering purple light shone out from within the viens of the ten vines, each crackling with magic as they came back to life.

Once reanimated, the pumpkin vines unfurled themselves from Royce’s torso, limbs, and cock as well as removing the double helix pair from his ass, with a rather wet ‘pop.’ All ten reared themselves up, with every tip pointed directly at the exposed spirit, still helplessly floating in the air.

The now fully naked and unburdened Royce started to walk closer to his guest with his arms held up in a showman-like fashion, “You kept going on, and on about how much you enjoyed feeling these vines on you, I figure the least I could do is to return the favor.”

The crime lord allowed a moment of suspense to build up before he acted.

The vines lashed out in a coordinated strike upon the orange hellfire version of Royce. This time, instead of the vines starting their attack from the torso and moving out, the crime lord chose to begin at the far ends and crawl their way inwards.

A pair of vines struck the arms first, each one started at the spectral pawed hand, snaking between the spaces of the fingers and thumb before wrapping around the wrists. Once each digit was fully spread, the vines wrapped around the wrists and steadily brought the hands up to the shoulders and out to the sides. Once the arms were splayed out, they then curled up the extended arm, securing each segment in place as they went.

Down below, the same things were being done to his feet and legs, as a set of vines wrapped around the pawed feet and up the ankles. The legs were pulled into a spread-eagled position as the vines moved in unison up to his hips.

Cala Blaza both tried to fight back and involuntarily spasmed as the vines crawled over every inch of the orange hellfire limbs, but it was a futile effort. Nothing he did could stop the now turned vines from totally restraining the already helpless specter.

The real Royce remained still, watching the show unfold as he willed his vines ever forward.

Once both arms were fully restrained, the ends of the vines buried themselves into the nook of the specter’s armpits. At the same time, the two that reached the groin, split off with one beginning to wrap around the balls and base of the cock while the other moved around, wiggling in between the clenched asscheeks to park itself right on top of the asshole.

As that was going on, a fifth vine announced itself by wrapping around Cala Blaza’s waist and began to slowly coil around his torso, up towards the pecs to tease the nipples.

“Your problem is,” Royce said once everything was nearly in place, “you just brute force your way to domination. Your whole method is, let's be fair, shoddy. It lacks creativity, finesse. See, with just a little bit of … restraint, I was able to hold you down with half of the resources.”

To add insult to injury, Royce stretched two of the remaining five vines over towards the tantalus and began manipulating the mechanism to unlock the cabinet. The tendrils wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Scotch, undid the lid, and poured the contents into a crystal glass. The vines then reset everything before bringing the glass back to the crime lord.

Royce took the drink in his hand and swirled it around, all while maintaining ‘eye contact’ with the spirit.

A look of indignation crashed upon the spirit’s face at both the jab and the taunt. He was just about to shout something back, but the moment he opened his mouth, the vine that was nestled at his pecs shot up, barreling its way past his lips, filling up the mouth, stifling any words that would have come out. “And another thing, this big ol’ pumpkin head,” Royce continued his critique of the intruder.

He then brought his hand up and gave a series of knocks against the gourd, producing a deep hollow sound with each hit. “I get that it might be your ‘thing’, but it completely prevents any chance to use the mouth during the play.”

Royce extended his hands, palms facing his bound ‘guest’, with his fingers spread as if he was preparing to theatrically cast a spell.

“Let me show you how I would do it.”

The crime lord flexed his fingers, and the vines that entangled the spirit’s body began to pulse and writhe.

Every square inch of Cala Blaza’s form came under siege. The shifting vines squirmed between his caught fingers, caressing the sculpted forearms and biceps, as the ends began tickling the specter’s armpits. His feet were teased in the same way, as the vine that wrapped around his junk began playing around with his balls and stroking the cock. From the rear, the vine plunged into the spirit’s ass, rhythmically pulsing with everything else as it wormed itself inch by inch.

The spirit descended into a fit of full-body spasms as he tried to process all the new sensory information coming from his new form. 

Royce took on the role of a symphony conductor as he silently carried out his attack with ruthless precision. He mentally instructed each vine how to work over each of its designated body parts to yield the biggest response, while not being so overbearing that it would take too much attention away from the others’ efforts.

Cala Blaza tried to maintain composure and break free from the restraints that he just had under his control, but he was in a copy of Royce’s body, and the crime lord knew exactly what buttons to push. Soon, the office was filled with the sounds of struggling grunts and reluctant, muffled moans.

It was music to Royce’s ears.

Within a few minutes, Cala Blaza let out a defeated groan as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his back arched, and his dick spasmed as it shot its load onto the floor. As orgasm rocketed through his form, it was accompanied by a cracking sound as all across the spirit’s convulsing form, fissures opened up with bright hellfire light shining from underneath.

Royce’s eyebrows rose within the pumpkin helm as he watched this new development present itself. Out of one part courtesy, and one part intrigue, the clouded leopard ceased his orchestrated assault, let the vines slacken just a bit, and pulled the vine that was currently shoved in the back of the spirit's mouth.

Cala Blaza coughed and sputtered the best he could with the gag in his mouth as he tried to compose himself. As he did, his form made the sound of ceramic shards clattering against each other as the light blinked through the shifting cracks. The spirit looked down at his fractured body with surprise before bringing his head back to face Royce.

He looked like a living kintsugi art piece.

The crime lord just stood there staring back at his now cracked spirit doubleganger. Then, within the lilac fiery gourd, the clouded leopard said, “Do you honestly think I would let you off so easily?”

The light purple flames surged out from the eyes and mouth holes as the magical energy shifted upwards to the top of the helm and into the stem atop. As it did so, the energy itself changed, shifting from the gentle crackle of a fire in a hearth to the volatile crackling of electricity as it slowly flowed out of the stem through five of the ten vines that held the spirit.

Cala Blaza looked on in horror as he witnessed Royce’s magic course through the vines that restrained him.

“I told you that you lacked creativity.”

The spirit tried once more to break free, but the vines kept their ironclad hold. All he could do was brace himself as the electrified energy made contact. Even then, Cala Blaza twitched as Royce’s magic introduced itself at his hands, feet, and waist.

The sound jostling fragments chimes away as he let out a series of barely contained yelps and gasps as the energy continued to crawl through the still vines around his cracked form.

Just when Cala Blaza looked like he could handle his composure, Royce commanded the vines to resume their squirming once more. All of them sprang back to life, squeezing, pulsing, fondling, and exploring every crevice of the spirit’s form.

Royce watched on in amusement as the spirit fell back into a series of uncontrollable convulsions, reveling in the sight as each body part tried to jerk away from the electricity, only to be thrown into the embrace of a different segment of the same electrified vine. 

To add additional salt in the wound, the crime lord caused the vine embedded in Cala Blaza’s ass to expand in circumference to ensure constant contact with the internal walls. He also willed the vine wrapped around the dick to pulse with renewed vigor while now gently squeezing the balls. Those two new moves caused the spirit’s hips to buck and move in all directions, desperately trying to find a way out of both ends.

Royce continued to watch the spectral spectacle he had all to himself as the orange duplicate, covered in lilac sparks, writhed as the hellfire light shone out from the cracks that were opening and closing with the form’s constant twitching.

Through his expert technique, the crime lord was able to push through the spirit’s dwindling resistance as the once proud spirit let out a series of reluctant moans and a defeated grunt as the form started to convulse once again.

The act was accompanied by another chorus of clattering and even more cracks as pieces of the fragmented shell of Cala Blaza’s form jostled against each other as the fissures’ edges continued to expand. It all concluded with another forced orgasm as a squirt of cum was squeezed out of Cala Blaza’s dick, dribbling onto the floor. 

Now panting and sucking air through his nose, the spirit secretly hoped that there would be some respite. He would sit through another round of gloating from this crime lord if it were an option.

But relief never came.

Royce did not even allow the intruder to have that full moment to himself. He instead flipped Cala Blaza onto his back, increased the intensity of the vines’ actions and voltage, and lifted him higher into the air to illuminate with his office as a makeshift disco ball. After admiring the lightshow of overstimulated agony and pleasure, Royce turned around and walked back to his desk, pulling Cala Blaza behind like a balloon. The crime lord sat back down and used the light from his pumpkin helm as illumination as he resumed his paperwork.

Running an empire can not stop because of just one guest.

While it may have looked like the crime lord was ignoring his special guest, he still used every trick in the book to ensure the spirit could never catch its breath while still pushing the edge of what he could do with the pumpkin tendrils.

He worked over the spirit’s ass to take not just an additional vine, but the third one, and made sure to have each independently moved within him at different yet complementary paces.

He teased the spirit’s nipples, providing them with enough electrical juice to force him to orgasm from that alone. He pushed Cala Blaza to cum again and again. Following the first two, Royce made a point of contorting the spirit's form or aiming the dick in such a way that the cumloads would always land back onto the spirit. With each mindshattering climax, the cracks along his form continued to expand and began to intersect with each other, making wider windows which revealed the raw, squishy ectoplasm quivering underneath.

It carried on like that for hours. 

By the end of the very long night, Royce was done reviewing his paperwork, and Cala Blaza was an exhausted, gasping, gaping mess. His outer shell was nothing more than loose fragments that were held together by a thread, which made him hardly look like the clouded leopard that he was forced to be.

The crime lord gathered up all his documents and neatly placed them away. Once his desk was nice and clean, he turned his full attention up towards his plaything. Cala Blaza was face down, completely limp, against the now motionless, yet still crackling vines.

The crime lord savored the sight of his work before he willed the vines to bring his subject down to just below eye level. He then extended his hand out and, with one finger under the chin, tilted the spirit’s head up to bring his unfocused eyes up towards Royce’s firefly pumpkin eye hole. “I have no doubt that you had your fill of physical pleasures,” Royce said with that same poisoned honey tone along with the voice augmentation by the helm, “but it is getting late, and now it’s time to go our separate ways.”

The spirit just looked back with unfocused eyes, bathed in the lilac light of his better, as he let out the smallest whimper of acceptance, “And,” Royce continued, “I would be a rather rude host if I did not send you off without one final goodbye gift.”

At that, the crime lord lifted his arm well over his head and twisted his torso to expose his right furry armpit to the spectral guest. He then commanded the vine to carefully move the spirit up from horizontal to vertical and then lift him back up, high enough so that Cala Blaza’s waist was right at the crevice. Then the vine that had been wrapped around the spirit’s dick all night finally withdrew itself and gave the shaft some breathing room.

Once everything was lined up, Cala Blaza was pulled in. The captured spirit recoiled as the head of his overstimulated dick brushed up against the stray hairs of Royce’s armpit.

The crime lord kept bringing him closer, forcing the spent dick to be buried deep into his crevice, savoring those series of gasps as the spirit was forced to feel every strand of fur as it ran over every millimeter of his sensitive shaft.

But nothing could beat the moan of despair Cala Blaza uttered when the vines that surrounded him began to resume their intimate massaging.

When Cala Blaza remained motionless after a few playful nudges, Royce took it upon himself to instruct the vines to rock the spirit’s hips back and forth.

The clouded leopard let out a self-indulgent moan as he relaxed his stance, allowing his body to be rocked by the puppeted action. While it was not seen, a smirk spread across his face as he revelled in the raw gasps and deafened moans heard overhead. The crime lord even allowed himself to indulge a bit more by bringing some of the free vines back on himself. He willed one to wrap around his hips and then snake down to his own, neglected, cock to begin pleasuring it. From above, another vine came up and curled around Royce’s shoulders and slithered down his pecs to play with his left nipple. He even went so far as to give a bit of an electric charge to both of his vines, to get the full experience.

There, the two stayed with the captured spirit being pushed towards another orgasm as he was forced to debase himself by fucking an armpit as Royce slipped into the bliss of enjoying the build-up to absolute victory after a good day’s work.

Royce made sure that he and his guest kept up in pace in terms of arousal, and eventually Cala Blaza began to buck once again all by himself. This time around, the movements were more frantic as a mishmash of gibberish flowed out of his mouth, half pleading to stop, half begging to keep going.

Royce just lapped it all up as he compelled his vines to go into overtime, as he brought his left hand down over his vine wrapped cock to stroke himself even more. The crime lord also repositioned himself for what was coming next, while keeping his arm steady, he angled the rest of him towards the wildly bucking spirit.

Cala Blaza was convulsing now, with his ectoplasm starting to shake within the shattered shell. The now utterly broken spirit let out one final staggered gasp as his body started to prepare itself for the final orgasm.

The spirit hunched forward, shooting his load, in the form of a series of pathetic squirts, deep into Royce’s armpit, as his form let loose another set of volatile spasms that shook Cala Blaza to the core.

The crime lord took a deep breath and joined his guest as he unloaded his across the office floor. 

On the last spasm and squirt from his spent dick, the final bits of Cala Blaza’s shell gave way as the goo  that comprised the spirit burst forth. A wave of glowing orange ectoplasm crashed upon the welcoming clouded leopard’s naked body, from head to pawwed foot.

Royce just tilted his head upwards with lilac flames continuing to lick out from the frozen jack-o-lantern face, letting out a deep, satisfied sigh. He and his vines remained motionless in the ghostly ooze, just basking in the dripping raw magical energy of a conquered enemy.

After taking his moment, the crime lord took a slow, steady inhale and began to compose himself again. As he did, all the ectoplasm that covered his body began to sink into his fur as it got absorbed into his skin. From below, the puddle of ooze began to be pulled towards the undersides of his paws. The entire process took less than a couple of seconds, and by the end, Royce was bone dry, with fluffy fur, and fully content.

Now all that was left was the headpiece.

Royce compelled the vines to extend upwards, straightening out while separating into two equal bundles. From the base of the pumpkin stem, two sets of vines began to gracefully twist and twirl each other, each creating an identical, elegant pattern.

Once fully braided, the two ends came together at the top to form a giant wreath directly above the clouded leopard.

Down at the pumpkin helm, the lilac flames from within the helm began to fade as Royce stopped channeling his magic through it. With the last ember dying out from within the jack-o-lantern, the entire gourd began to slide down towards Royce’s front. The helm never changed its color or opacity. The jack-o-lantern simply phased through Royce’s head, revealing his satisfied smile on his face, as it and the vines shrank in size.

The pumpkin continued its slow sliding and shrinking until the braided vines made contact with the back of Royce’s neck, which allowed the now pendulum-sized jack-o-lantern to rest upon the crime lord’s pecs. The clouded leopard then brought his hands up to lift the necklace off his head, turned it around, to better inspect his prize. He rolled the pumpkin pendant between his fingers and thumb, noticing how the lights of the city behind him caught within its curves and crevices.

He then palmed the trinket in his left hand and strolled across his penthouse office towards the portrait of his family.  Royce reached up and grabbed the side of the frame, swinging it open to reveal a respectively sized safe set into the wall behind it.

The clouded leopard spun the dial back and forth, inputting the combination that only he knew. When the faintest of ‘clicks’ came from within the metal door, he grabbed the safe handle and pulled it open bringing to light a small collection of similarly sized knick-knacks. Each one was the remains of a fool heartily spirit or occasional magic practitioner that tried their hand at usurping Royce.

The crime lord fondly looked over his trove of trophies before he haphazardly tossed the necklace onto the pile and closed the door, condemning them all to the sealed darkness.

Just as Royce swung the portrait back in place, the main door to the office slid open.

Silhouetting against the doorway, an imposing bulldog stood at attention. He was tall, well-built, with enhanced muscles, and dressed in a custom form-fitting suit that just barely hid some of the well-earned tattoos that poked through his wrists.

In a gruff voice, the bulldog spoke, “You finished, boss?”

Royce turned back around, showing off his still naked body, and with a wicked smile and a flash of magic in his eyes replied, “Never better.”

*** 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Rubber Spray

This story was created as a gift and in collaboration with Webster and Yulen

Yulen did not even bother ringing the doorbell or wait to be let in. The moment he pulled his car into the driveway, the heavy-set grey cat, wearing a red graphic press t-shirt, cargo shorts, along with socks and sneakers, got out of his seat and just barged right on in.

He hurried through the foyer and went up the stairs, shouting, “Hey Webster, where is it?” as he arrived on the second floor living room.

The living room took up the majority of the floor space, encompassing both the kitchen and dining areas in its open floor layout, with the fireplace near the center of the room acting as a sole divider between the areas. 

The front and back walls were comprised of floor-to-ceiling windows with one set towards the upper half of the grassy hill the house was built into, while the side overlooked the trees that obscured the house from the main road. The remaining wall space that was not made of glass was decorated with art and shelves holding memorabilia, with in the far back corner having a selection of heavy-duty sofas facing a flatscreen TV system.

Yulen scanned the open area and easily located where his friend was. He was hard to miss. 

The 5’10 orange and white goat with brown spots on his shoulders that ran down his arms, and clocking in at 375 pounds, was standing at the dinner table in just a pair of baggy gym shorts with his back to him.

His wide frame completely obscured what he was looking at, but on his left, Yulen could see a portion of a wooden crate lid being propped up with a mini crowbar resting next to it. The cat’s eyes widened at the sight, and he hurried over to Webster’s side to get an actual look at the reason he came over. Resting on the dining room table was a medium-sized old school wooden shipping crate with the words, “ACME” stamped across each side in big bold block letters. With the lid resting on the side of the box, Yulen saw that the inside was filled with loose wood wool with a purple glass bottle resting on top of the mound. The bottle had the shape of a vintage perfume bottle, with an etched criss-crossing pattern on the bulb that flowed into a thin neck. It was connected to a nozzle that had a half-foot rubber hose that ended with a hand pump adorned with tassels.

The only other thing of note was a manila label plastered across the width of the bulb that proclaimed in the same big block text, “ACME’S INSTANT RUBBERIZER SPRAY!” with a tag line underneath, written in a flowing cursive script, “Just spray to squeak!”

When Webster showed the old comic book mail page that advertised this ludicrous product to Yulen a few weeks ago, he thought the goat was throwing his money away by filling out the mail order. Yet early this morning, Webster blew up Yulen’s phone with photos of the crate appearing at this front door, followed by a slide show of the goat hoisting it upstairs, followed by a trek to the garage to fish out an actual crowbar.

Even though Yulen already saw the pictures of what was inside, none of them did it any justice to the real thing. He just stood there, joining his friend in marveling at the package.

Webster moved first, carefully extended his arms into the crate, cupping the glass bulb in one hand and the pump in the other. As he lifted the bottle out, Yulen saw a white index-sized piece of paper that was nestled underneath.

As Webster held up the bottle to better examine it, Yulen retrieved the paper and read it aloud. “Intructions:

1. Point the nozzle towards the intended target.

2. Spray liberally Reversing solvent sold separately.” Yulen’s brow furrowed as he flipped over the card and reread the sparse instructions, “That’s all it says, nothing else… weird.” He placed the instructions onto the table and then shoved his arm deep into the packing material, trying to find anything else and coming up empty.

Yulen pulled his arm out and brushed the wood wool off his fur before turning back to Webster. “Do you think it actually works?” “Only one way to find out.~” The goat said, flashing him a mischievous grin. Webster took a few steps back, pointed the bottle directly at Yulen, and started repeatedly squeezing the hand pump.

A series of grey, opaque, near-smoke clouds began to spray from the nozzle.

Yulen, caught by surprise, was only able to let out a startled, “Wha-!?” before becoming quickly engulfed in the billowing clouds.

The sudden smokescreen clung around Yulen’s area, maintaining its obscuring density, with the only thing coming out of the smokescreen being the sound of Yulen coughing.

The clouds eventually faded away, revealing Yulen coughing into his fist with one paw and waving the smoke away with his other.

Yulen tentatively blinked his eyes open, and once he confirmed the spray was gone, he shot a glare at his friend. He was about to shout out an objection, but stopped upon seeing Webster’s expression. Following the goat’s eyes, he brought his attention down towards his body.

He looked the same, the same grey cat with the same height, wearing the same outfit, but now there was a sheen to him. The sheen covered his clothes as well as his fur. As Yulen inspected, he saw that all of his short hair transformed into a uniform sheet of polished rubber.

Yulen’s eyes bulged as he held his paws out in front of them, turning them back and forth, “I-I can’t believe it! It happened so quickly… I hardly felt anything.”

He placed a paw on his arm and began to rub it back and forth, creating faint squeaks as he did so.

“It feels so…-”

The sentence trailed off as an idea derailed his current train of thought as he continued to look over himself, “Whoa, it even changed the clothes!!”

He grabbed the hem of his red shirt and pulled it out to better look at it. In his enthusiasm, he pulled on the shirt with more power than he intended. As a result, once it pulled it taut, the material effortlessly stretched, keeping up with Yulen’s force. A loud stretching sound filled the air as the material stretched like a rubber band. The sudden elasticity caught Yulen by surprise, causing him to fully extend his arms out in front of him at a 45-degree angle, bringing the front of the shirt out farther than it had any right to. 

While the t-shirt and its design pattern stretched with it, the fabric never tore. Both Yulen's and Webster’s eyes went wide from the discovery, with Yulen maintaining his arms at that position, too baffled to do anything else. He then let the shirt slip through his fingers, and his shirt snapping back to its original shape. “Fucking cooOOLLll!!!” Yulen said with a laugh.

“I wonder if it would also work with…” he continued as he brought his right paw up to the side of his face, pinched his cheek, and gradually pulled.

Just like his shirt, there was the normal pull, followed by a bit of resistance once it reached its natural limit. Yulen kept applying more force, and his cheek, and only his cheek, yielded, creating the same rubber-stretching sound as he gently pulled it down to his shoulder.

“WhoooaAAAA Ha ha ha!” Yulen proclaimed with a slight impediment as he kept his grip.

Webster, still holding on to the perfume bottle, just watched on in stunned amazement at the display.

“There’s no pain,” Yulen commented, wiggling his cheek back and forth in demonstration before letting go.

His cheek flew back to his face, causing his head to gently recoil from the impact. When Yulen steadied himself, his face was back to normal without a hint of a blemish.

“Oh, that was trippy,” Yulen said as he brought his paw back to his cheek to give a little rub.

His attention moved on to this paw, lowering it back in front of him and brabbing it at the wrist with his left paw as he thought aloud, “I wonder if I can.. --hrmph.”

He started to pull with minimal results, his arm stretched straight out a few inches as his left arm reached its limit.

Realizing the barriers that Yulen was facing with his position, Webster placed the bottle back into the crate and approached him.

“The problem is,” Webster said as he grabbed Yulen’s wrist with one hand and placed his other on the cat’s opposing shoulder, “you don’t have enough range.”

He accented the end of his sentence with his own grunt as he yanked Yulen’s wrist, as he rotated his hips. The action looked akin to starting up a lawnmower, and it worked.

Whatever was in the bottle, it worked all the way through Yulen’s body because both his bones and joints gave with the pull as Webster was able to bring his friend’s arm almost a full 180 degrees around himself.

Yulen’s own arm thinned as it was stretched around his wide friend while sinking his soft body.

Webster held that position, as both of them marveled at the section of the arm that they could see. Yulen was transfixed on how his arm could stretch and bend that far, with Webster keeping his attention on his friend’s thinned-out forearm and the normally sized paws attached to it.

“I can still feel everything,” Yulen eventually said, commenting on the section that was pressed up against Webster. It feels the same…. Just longer somehow.” He then wiggled his fingers in front of Webster, adding a playful, “Hello!”

“This is like… some real-life cartoon logic,” Yulen continued as Webster eased himself back to face his friend before letting go and having the grey cat’s arm snap back both into place and his original length.

Webster heard him, but he was too busy trying to wrap his head around everything that he had witnessed so far, as well as the potential implications. Yulen, on the other hand, moved his attention down to his cargo shorts. He hooked his thumb around the front two belt loops and pulled out the waistband as far as he could. The grey cat looked straight down and chortled.

“LOL, it even changed my underwear,” Yulen said, turning back to Webster with a broad smile. He let his thumbs slide out of the belt loops, allowing the shorts to snap back to him like a pair of suspenders. 

“I wonder what the limits are to this sort of thing?” He wondered aloud as he brought his paws back to his face.

Webster watched as his friend began to idly play with the features of his now rubberized face. He pinched his black button nose with his thumb, index, and middle finger, and pulled it straight out, making a six inch long pyramid-shaped icicle before releasing it.

Yulen then moved up towards his triangular ears, grabbing one with both paws. He then began to stretch and knead the ear until it was round and flattened like a mouse’s ear.

Yulen then carefully took his paws off of it, while his face was locked in an expression of concentration. He waited a moment to make sure the change held before repeating the process with the other ear.

“It… It looks like, with a bit of determination, I can get some of the changes to stay. I wonder how far this can go?”

Webster took that invitation and ran with it.

He stepped right up to Yulen, bringing his hands up to his chest, while a devious smile grew across his face. He silently loomed over his friend, allowing his friend to have a moment to squirm as he looked up at the grinning goat, fingers wiggling in anticipation.

Yulen was about to utter the first syllable of his sentence when Webster descended upon him. The goat’s hands swooped down, seizing Yulen’s shoulders. He began grabbing, stretching, scrunching, and shaping every part of the cat’s rubbery body.

Webster was fast and ruthless with his actions as a cacophony of squeaks, surprised vocalizations, and constantly interrupted questions came from Yulen.

“Hey-, What-?”

 “Whoa!...  -Huh?” “

“How? … WH-!?”

Webster answered none of them, choosing instead to follow through on his work with glee, hunching over more and more as he continued. At one point, Webster even lifted up the cat and flipped him upside down to work on his legs and feet before setting him back down. Only once the goat was practically doubled over did Webster finally stop. With one finishing pinch and twist on the cat’s body, he stepped away, pulling himself upright to inspect the end result.

Yulen was standing right where he was before Webster came down on him, but now he stood half as tall.

Yulen stood still for a moment, head down and bracing for any fallout as he reoriented himself from the shudder barrage from Webster. He then slowly lifted his head and began re-inspecting himself. 

The once five-foot-six-inch grey cat was now standing in at just under three feet, and his height was not the only thing that was changed. His head was now a spherical bulb, sitting on a near non-existent neck. His face also received a major overhaul; his muzzle was shrunk, and his nose was molded into a button nose of the original as both were pressed flat against his face. Yulen’s mouth was now stretched wide across the remaining bottom half of his face. On the top half, his eyes were now comically large, like two oblong miniature plates, now sitting right next to each other. His ears were returned to their normal triangle form, but flattened out and moved to be positioned more on the top of his head.

Even with using his full strength pressing down on Yulen’s torso, Webster could only do so much with the body mass. After getting the cat’s body as compressed as he could get it, the goat took it upon himself to reshape the dense body mass around to compensate. He gave his friend a round bean-shaped frame while molding the excess mass into a little potbelly.

Sticking out of his torso was a pair of stumpy arms, with slightly exaggerated paws. At the end of his equally stumpy legs were a pair of wide, floppy feet, encased in his sneakers, that almost extended past the rest of his body. 

Webster was still considerate enough to squish Yulen’s rubber clothes the same so that both his shirt and shorts fit his condensed size. Although the goat made sure that his red shirt was a bit shorter than before to show off his tummy. Yulen outstretched his arms in astonishment, then craned his neck higher than he ever needed to look up at Webster. Something caught the cat’s eye, and he then awkwardly navigated his new legs and feet to walk to the end of the table and peer into his reflection in the full-length window.

His eyes bulged out of his head, “Whoa-hOA-HOA! I look like an actual toon!”

The excitement of the reveal washed away any hesitation that Yulen was carrying about the change as he proceeded to check himself in the window. He animatedly hoped between his feet, checking the underside of his shoes before twisting his neck and torso to get a view of his back. 

“Lol! All I’m missing is a big wooden mallet!” Yulen said, turning back to Webster as he mimicked the motion of reaching behind his back. He immediately pulled his arm back around, revealing a clenched paw that had nothing in it. 

“Aww, still, I look pretty cute,” he said as he unfurled his paw and wiggled his fingers.

A new idea emerged within the grey rubber cat as he brought his paw to his face, wrapping his lips around the tip of his thumb while fingers remained outstretched. He then took a near comically loud inhale through his nose and tilted his head and paw back before he brought them forward as he closed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks.

There was hardly a moment of resistance before his paw puffed up and continued to inflate from the apparent transfer of air, accompanied by the distinct sound of an expanding balloon.

Yulen opened his eyes to confirm what he already knew.

With his lips still attached to his thumb, he moved his head and wrist side to side. Yulen and Webster watched his ballooned paw bob in such a way that confirmed that nothing was in the paw save for air.

Yulen then removed his lips from his thumb as his paw deflated back to its now toony-sized self. He kept his eyes on his paw, wiggling his fingers again to test that everything was actually back to normal.

“I guess the spray allows for some toony logic. I wonder what else can be done….” The sentence puttered out because, as Yulen was too enamored by his discovery, he did not notice that Webster stepped back up to him.

Once again, the cat was greeted by the sight of Webster looming over him, now much more imposing considering the new height difference, with a wicked glint in his eyes.

This time, Yulen did not even have time to open his mouth as Webster’s hands came swooping down, firmly grabbing the cat’s shoulders and easily sweeping him up into the air. He could only watch in shock as his vision was filled with the sight of the half-naked goat’s encroaching face. He saw the goat take a deep breath through his mouth and then lock lips.

Webster blew into Yulen’s mouth, and the cat began to inflate.

It started with the torso, as it was forced to straighten out into becoming parallel to the floor, followed by everything from the top of his ribcages, down to his hips, began to expand out in all directions. As more air flowed into him, the bottom half of Yulen’s body began to tip upwards.

While Yulen continued to inflate and float, Webster slid his hands up the cat’s shoulder, over his face, forming a double fist hold around his lips.

Webster strained to push the last bit of his breath into Yulen. Once he was empty, he brought his eyes up to meet Yulen. He stared into the cat’s wide eyes and playfully pumped his eyebrows. The goat then made an exaggerated inhale through his nose and blew that air into Yulen once more.

Yulen’s torso expanded out a bit more before reaching its apparent limit. That did not stop Webster as he furrowed his brow and pushed on through. 

There was a bit more resistance before something gave out within Yulen’s body as the budding air pressure broke through and started to flow into Yulen’s arms and legs. Each limb straightened out as Webster’s breath barreled through, turning them into rounded cylinders.

Now, Yulen’s body was angled straight towards the high ceiling, floating as if it were filled with helium, with the only anchor he had being Webster’s firm grasp around his lips.

Webster continued on, watching in delight as Yulen’s hands, which were clenched into fists, were forced open by the mounting internal air pressure as the palm and fingers swelled.

The last thing to give out was Yulen’s eyes. In what felt like the warning sign of reaching the absolute limit, Yulen’s eyes began to pop out of their sockets, creating a set of squeaky orbs with a black pupil on each.

When Webster completely emptied his lungs a second time, he retightened his grip on Yulen’s mouth and carefully pulled his hands away from his face so he could get a better look at his work.

Every aspect of Yulen’s ‘normal’ shape was blown out of proportion. He looked and moved more like an overinflated parade float version of his toon self with arms and legs splayed out to the side. Webster tilted his body and stretched his neck, trying to take it all in. He especially admired how the light from the window caught and bent around the surface of his fully inflated rubber friend.

Yulen, for his part, just kept looking at Webster, too astonished to do anything else. He watched as Webster’s eyes moved up and down every part of his body that he could see from his vantage point. Once Webster was done with his inspection, he returned his attention to meet his friend’s inquisitive expression. Webster held the silence for a beat before he flashed Yulen another grin.

Yulen answered with a series of frantic blinks, causing a light squeak as his eyelids glided over his inflated eyes. The conversation started and concluded without anything being said.

Webster, while still maintaining eye contact and his smile, carefully removed his top hand from the cat’s lips and brought it up towards his own face. With palms facing Yulen, Webster flexed his four fingers together a few times, creating a mocking facsimile of a polite goodbye wave before letting go of his other hand. The air rushed out of Yulen’s lips as he rocketed away from Webster. He was propelled straight up to the ceiling before bumping off of it and pivoting away. He then continued zigzagging up, down, and around the open floor space. He bounced off the floor, the ceiling, the windows, and bumped into the walls and shelves, knocking over trinkets, all while creating a loud, continuous raspberry sound wherever he went. The sound of the raspberry and chaos was only overshadowed by Webster as he doubled over in roarious laughter, which was even interrupted by an occasional bleat.

The balloon shannagains concluded when Yulen finally sputtered out the last bit of air as he splattered against the far wall and slid down behind the TV entertainment system.

Webster, still in hysterics, took a moment to compose himself before he headed over. The goat pressed his shoulder against the wall and shoved his thick arm into the gap, and began blindly searching. After a moment, Webster’s face brightened as his hand fastened around what he was looking for. He then carefully pulled out his friend. 

Yulen was back to his old toony size and outline, but not his dimensions. The grey cat was now completely deflated. While he still had a frozen expression of astonishment on his face, his body was positioned in a default stance with his hands open, arms down by his side, and his legs straight. His entire body dangled between Webster’s fingers, making him look like he had just been run over by a steamroller.

Despite all of that, Yulen was still aware of what was happening by the way he blinked and moved his eyes to look up at Webster.

Webster let out an amused chuckle as he proceeded to move his hand back and forth with enough force to get the flattened Yulen to shake in the air, creating cartoonish wobbling sounds in the process. Once he had his fun and examined his 2D friend, racking his brain on what to do next.

As that was happening, Yulen slowly lifted his flat hand to his mouth, but Webster intervened. 

Webster brought his other hand up to the top of Yulen’s head and lifted him higher before flicking him like a towel. The action was met with a whip crack sound effect and flattened Yulen out even more.

Webster then brought the sheet that was now his friend back towards him and proceeded to fold, bend, pull, and stretch his friend once more.

“Just about….” Webster said to himself as he worked over the material, “ …and there!”

The goat placed his last fold and lifted it up to inspect the final product. Held up between his orange hands was a pair of Yulen-grey rubber underwear.

It was a typical design, with an elastic waistband on top, holes for legs at the bottom, and a fly in the front. But it was when Webster flipped his work around to come face-to-face with his friend. 

Stretched across the backside of the underwear was Yulen’s face from his big cartoon eyes down to his mouth, all still in that same frozen expression of astonishment.

Webster waited for his friend to gather his bearings and fully comprehend what had happened before continuing. The goat then removed one of his hands from the waistband and, in full view of his friend, slowly moved it down towards his baggy gym shorts. He slipped his hand around his own waistband and began to pull them down. 

He allowed the shorts to fall the rest of the way before proceeding to step out of them and finally kicking them off to the side. All the while, Webster drank the moment all in, savoring every moment as he stared back into Yulen’s frozen face. Once he was completely naked, Webster smiled, giving one last, “bye-bye” as he turned his underwear back around, bending down to lower it to his legs. The goat then ceremoniously stepped into his new underwear and slowly pulled them up his thick legs. From behind, Yulen’s face was pulled across and then pressed up against Webster’s wide ass.

It ended with a snap of the elastic against his hips, followed by some minor adjustments, and one final inspection. “Not a bad fit...It’s a bit snug, but I’m sure I’ll be able to break you in,” he added with glee as he twisted his hips and neck, directing the comment down to his rear while giving it a little shake. 

Webster then walked over to the sofa, making a point to snag the TV remote from the coffee table. He then turned around, pausing for dramatic effect before crashing down onto the couch with a loud ‘THUD!’.

Because he felt like it, Webster followed up by rubbing his ass against the sofa cushions to get truly settled in. Once he was comfortable, he pointed the remote at the TV and with a few clicks, his favorite show began playing. Webster gave himself one more self-indulgent scratch of his groin as he hunkered down for another bout of marathon watching. As he started to sink into his program, he did make note of the fact that he only used about half of the rubber spray....and he was now in the market for a matching tank top.

*** 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Painted Pride

Context: This is a very belated Pride 2025 story After roaming up and down the narrow rows of the parked cars, you made a turn and pulled into the first available parking spot you could find. You yanked your car’s gear stick into park, undid your seatbelt, and carefully opened the door so as not to ding the car right next to you. You then eased yourself out, bringing your arms overhead and shaking each leg as you perform a full body stretch, accompanied by an ugly, yet relieved groan.

The hour-and-a-half drive was not pleasant, but it was necessary to be able to get here.

This town held the title for the earliest and longest-running Pride festival in the region. With that history, it developed a reputation and then the tradition of being over the top. It went so far as to shut down Main Street for the all-day festival, as well as pulling queer talent from all over just to perform. 

Yet the most important thing about this location was that it was far enough away to ensure that you did not cross paths with anyone you might have known. 

You did not need to check your phone to know that you were in the right place. Aside from the numerous signage advertising today’s festival on highway billboards, and the fact that you could barely find a spot in an off-site parking lot blocks away from Main Street, almost every car that you drove past had some form of queer decoration.

There was an overwhelming number of different pride flags affixed to back windows or their radio antennas as well as a slew of bumper stickers, each with its own humorous quips. There was, “My other ride is your dad,” “So gay I can’t drive straight,” “Don’t mistrust an honest mistress,” one that had the words “Who rescued who?” superimposed on a silhouette of a puphood mask. There was even one that had the outline of an AK-47, colored in bars of purple, white, grey, and black with the phrase “I don’t fuck around” in old colonial font.

As you walked past them all, your eyes drifted down to your clothes and got a bit crestfallen. Plain jeans, boring sneakers, and the ‘coolest’ graphic t-shirt that you could find in your closet. It was hardly a Pride material outfit, but it was the best you could do with your current situation. You comforted yourself with the self-repeated hope that maybe you could pick up a t-shirt or souvenir from this weekend excursion, if it was just right.

Accepting the fact that you could not turn back, even if you wanted to, you brought your head back up and looked around to find the best path from this parking lot to Main Street. You soon spotted a group of other people dressed in bright colors and animatedly talking to each other as they walked through a gate into the heart of the town. You gave them some space before following suit. As you walked along the side street of the old town, you started to use the sound of the communal commotion as your new guide. As the sounds got louder, you noticed that your legs started picking up the pace. You made it down the final side street and made a turn onto what must have been Main Street. Your eyes were confronted with a bombardment of colors and any doubts that you had about going the wrong direction were instantly evaporated.

The entire street was jammed packed with people of all types, walking, talking, and laughing. The sidewalks were taken over by various booths, forcing the public to go into the street. There were so many people that, for a moment, you were reminded of the crowd at Comic-Con, but outside and way more colorful. And there were rainbows everywhere. From the banners overhead to the store windows, and the posters on the lamp posts, to even the people’s outfits, the entire street was decorated with colors of the whole color spectrum.

Your eyes went wide, darting around to take in everything as you took a step and joined the crowd as you started to walk up one length of the closed-off street. Your attention was constantly torn between the booths, stores, and various attractions that lined the streets and the people who occupied the street with you. All the stores on Main Street had their doors open, welcoming the public to come in and browse the wares.

You walked past the typical hipster stores you would expect to see here: a trendy upcycle store, a few local furniture and clothing shops, as well as a second-hand book store. Sprinkled between those local venues, there were also the standard tourist trap stores, selling locally specific and overpriced ‘funny’ novelty knick-knacks. There was even an adult sex store that proudly advertised itself and all of its goods for all to see.

Along the brick-and-mortar stores, tents and booths were stationed on the sidewalks and in the alleyways of the buildings, either advertising different organizations or serving as pop-up stations for small artists to peddle their goods. The art pieces ranged from handmade bracelets, painted canvas artworks, and scrap metal sculptures. There was either a wise or just fortunate pet store owner who used their pop-up space to sell rainbow colored collars, leashes, and pet bandanas of all sizes. 

There was even a booth advertising the local chapter’s “Seamstresses’ Guild” staffed with workers who were talking to an elderly, yet confused, woman who was proudly showing off her nearly completely knitted rainbow socks.

As you walked through the crowd, your eyes kept darting around to examine the people that comprised it, since they were just as colorful as the festival.

There were folks of all types, ages, and demographics shuffling through the street, with almost everyone sporting some sort of Pride on themselves, with a surprisingly high amount of people having body paint on their faces, chests, and arms. Yet the majority had rainbow-pattern clothes, while others wore graphic press t-shirts with cheeky comments.

The some that you were able to catch said things like:

“Yes officer, that is a GL.ock I’m packing” “I’m still questioning, let me kiss your mom… and your dad.” “My pronouns came free with the medical operation.”

A dude with a shirt that said “Bi girl’s supportive boyfriend,” walking next to his partner. A little while away, you saw, “Bi girl’s supportive girlfriend” worn by another in a different friend group.

There was one that had the look of a vintage beer advertisement proclaiming, “Genderfluid: Now on tap!”

And a hot pink t-shirt that had the phrase, “Remember: Stonewall was a RIOT!” in black text with the last word in sparkling sequins.

As you continued to explore, you saw that some people went further with their celebration by wearing less, which you sheepishly appreciated. You spotted a man sporting a rainbow Speedo and a woman in nothing but lipstick, heels, and three stripes of orange, pink, and white tape.

You also could not help but notice all the kink gear that was openly worn. You identified a group of leather doms and dommes idly chit-chatting as a pack of people in puphoods were playing in a fenced-off human-sized model dog park. Two others were proudly sporting diapers, walking next to someone in head-to-toe polished latex.

Despite this being the first time seeing some of these outfits in real life, you tried your best to get a good look at them without staring or walking directly into the people around you. To prevent getting too caught up in people watching, you chose to distract yourself with the various entertainment that welcomed wandering eyes.

There were a few DJs playing their sets out of some of the stores and alleyways. At one end of the street, there was a stage of drag queens 'competing’ for the attention of the crowd against a crew of drag kings right across the street.

Even with all of the attractions, the public always gravitated towards the middle of the main street, on the lawn that looked like the town hall building, that held stations for community activities. It ranged from creating your own friendship bracelets, a freestyle doodling and coloring section, and story time of the history of the festival. There was even a pressed penny machine that had custom-made plates commemorating this year’s Pride in this town.

As you inspected each one, you discovered the source of the unusually high amount of body paint at the festival today.

It was a canopy that held up a thick, once white, canvas that was now decorated with splatterings and specks of various paints, dyes, and oils. Hanging over the side facing the crowd, was an equally stained banner that proclaimed, “Local Artists’ Co-op” with a tagline underneath that said, “Display your colors, Free bodypaint!!!”

The text was in large, purposefully messy writing that only an artist could carry out.

Yet it was the inside that captured your interest. The area was covered with a mess of tarps, with four artists each occupying their own quadrants surrounded by their own tables that held an assortment of paints and tools. Each person had a long line of people, and it was obvious to see why.

In one corner, there was a woman, dressed in Converse, cargo booty shorts, and a cream colored smock over a flannel shirt, with stripes of light pink and blue that accentuated her arms and legs. Her station had a set of wooden stools where she and her volunteer sat as she used a traditional set of paintbrushes. She was in the middle of adding the final touches to the volunteer’s pan flag stripes, talking amiably to them while yucking it up with her fellow artists.

The artist next to her was another woman with long, flowing black hair. She was dressed in a red, spotless red dress and matching heels. This woman’s approach to her painting was radically different. She was circling her volunteer, with focused eyes, the same way a lioness would appraise her prey. The man in front of her was shirtless with unabashed excitement in his eyes, standing at attention, remaining perfectly still in the way one would be ordered to.

In this woman’s hand, she was holding a long vintage-looking cigarette stick that was modified to hold a thin paintbrush at the end. Once she saw that she was satisfied with her inspection, she ‘lashed’ out with her brush against the volunteer’s chest. The man flinched with excitement and then quickly resumed his position. She continued her circling, throwing out a playful condensing comment at her volunteer as she looked for the next place to make her mark.

Her station only had a few paint pots at her station, with each one having a cigarette stick sticking out of each.

On the other corner, there was a fully clothed artist, surrounded by a set of tables that held an extensive collection of different types of brushes, paints of all hues, and a few expert tools of the trade, as well as a small pile of emptied coffee cups. They were hunched over their workbench, as a person was lying on their stomach, adding the small details of an intricate pattern on the volunteer’s back.

The final artist was a dude, in every sense of the word. He was wearing white sneakers, orange gym shorts, and a white tank top with the words “Himbo Hooters” written in the same orange color. He did not just have a body to not just fill out his outfit, but the confidence to show it off as he carried out his work. While the others chose to use paintbrushes, he opted to go with finger painting.

His station was occupied with a collection of standard paint pots and cloth rags next to a bowl of grey paint water. Just like the woman in the dress, he chose to be much more intimate with his painting style. There was no attempt to hide his playful nature as he stepped up right next to his volunteer and caressed them with both his paint-covered fingers as he talked.

Each one of them was fully invested in their preferred craft, and you just watched in awe from the outside.

When enough time passed that some part of you alerted that you were now reaching the point of gawking instead of just observing them. You peeled yourself away and forced yourself to explore the rest of the Pride festival.

With the long drive to actually get here, you resigned yourself to spending the entire day here and chose to leave no stone unturned. That meant thoroughly inspecting all the booths and stores here. You sifted through all the available t-shirts, yet none of them were anything you could pull off or want people you knew to see you wearing. You did push yourself to buy a small rainbow key chain that you could display in some part of your room.

As you wandered up and down the length of the festival, you sat in on the various performances and treated yourself to an artisanal sandwich from a local deli. You even gathered the courage to enter the sex store and be thoroughly embarrassed by the extent of the section.

Yet, despite everything that was there, you still caught yourself going back to the body painting booth and lingering around every time you passed by.

At first, you were ‘smart’ enough to always fall in line with the crowd of people caught up in the spectacle. You justified staying a bit longer than everyone else because ‘you wanted to see the various end results of the projects rather than the act of painting itself’.

As you kept returning throughout the day, you dropped the charade and just watched the artists.

Upon your sixth or seventh revisit, you were observing the one you would have mentally labeled as, ‘the himbo hunk’, giving one last inspection of his finger painting rendition of the bear pride flag on a particularly hairy dude. The line for his station was roped off with a paper sign draped over it, angled in such a way that you could not read it. Once he gave his nod of approval, he waved off the volunteer while wishing him a happy Pride.

The finger painter then went over to his basin to wash off his hands. As he was drying his hands, he turned to face the crowd, scanning the people before locking eyes with you. Then, in an unquestioning tone, he said, “Your turn”.

Your brain went blank. Unable to say anything, you just kept staring right at him like a deer in the headlights.

You would have stayed like that forever, completely paralyzed, yet your eyes informed you that after a moment, the artist let out an amused chuckle, tossed the hand towel down onto the table, and started walking towards you.

As he closed the gap, everything about this situation came back into focus with the appropriate weight and context. You remembered that you were at a Pride festival, in a crowded street, with everyone looking at you.

As your mind kicked back up again, you stammered out the response, “B-but what about the others waiting?”

“I saw you’ve been waiting long enough,” he said with an authentic smile as he gently grabbed your wrist and began to lead you back under the canopy.

And once he got you back to his station, he spun back around and beamed back at you, “Besides, I’m on my break!” He spoke the last with such triumphant zeal that it was clear that there was no way you could try to justify getting out of his situation.

“Skipping your lunch so you can do a bit of extra charity work? My my, Keith, you really are embodying the spirit of Pride,” the woman in the flannel and a smock said from her workshop as she was putting the final strip of the nonbinary flag on a volunteer’s cheek. “Hey! I never said I was going to skip my lunch!” Keith countered as he ducked under his table to pull a waxpaper-wrapped sandwich and an energy drink from a lunch bag.

The painter named Kieth scarfed down the sandwich and then cracked open the energy drink and chugged it in a single pull. After shaking the can to make sure it was fully emptied, he removed it from his lips as he let out a stratified sigh. “See? I am putting myself first,” Keith said in a playful banter as he ducked back down to the lunch bag to fish out a snack cake.

“That’s Stacy,” he said between slower bites of his dessert, “she’s big on mental health, and she runs our artist co-op! In fact, she’s the one who organized this whole body painting booth.”

Still trying to adjust to this sudden development, you turned to her and gave her the standard, “nice to meet you”. 

You still felt compelled to add a personal touch to the greeting, but stumbling on the delivery, you continued, “That’s a.. Uh, nice name.”

“Thanks! I picked it myself!” Stacy said with the satisfaction of being able to use one of her favorite corny jokes.

“And behind her is Tiffney. She’s uses paint as a part of her performance,” Keith said, trying to be discreet as he nodded to the woman in the still spotless red dress, who was engrossed in the process of leaving painted ‘lashes’ on a volunteer who was on their knees, hands placed on the top of their head.

“I prefer the term ‘multimedia artist’. I use a bit of paint, some sweat, pheromones, and occasionally a few other materials to make my masterpieces.” Tiffany said, turning over to face you two. She then stopped her ‘performance’ to give you a very obvious once over, “Oh, you’re one who has been orbiting around our station all day. You know, I had half a mind to pick you up myself next time I was without a canvas”. “You would have scared him,” Stacy shot back.

“So?~” she said with a smile as she kept her steely eyes on you until you began to blush from both implications.

Once she got her response, she brought her attention back to her project/

“And in the corner next to us is Jade,” Keith said, trying to continue the introduction, “Their specialty is doing real detailed work, like tattooing and painting. Jade is by far the most successful out of any of us. They even got to do a few contract jobs for our town and some local businesses!” 

As Keith talked, Jade remained focused on outlining an intricate design on a binder that was laid out on their work desk. You just stood there awkwardly, unsure if Jade was going to wait to address you further once they were done with what they were doing, or if that was the extent of the introduction.

“And I’m Keith!” Keith said, answering your quiet question as he puffed out his pecs. “Lover boy here mostly does finger painting as you could probably already tell,” Stacy added to the introduction in that friendly teasing manner, “One day we’ll get him to graduate to paint brushes.” “Art is many things,” Tiffany retorted, matching that playful tone, as she dragged the end of her paintbrush up her volunteer’s neck, catching it on the chin. And Jade just made a ‘harumph’ in agreement without looking up. “I like what I like,” Keith said with that unquestioning logical tone as he finished his dessert and disposed of the wrapper in the bin next to him. He then cleared his throat as he turned to you, giving you his full attention, and said, “So are you ready to begin?” Still caught in the whirlwind of the sudden events of this situation, you did not have the cognitive awareness to screen your base desires. You witnessed yourself nodding as you got lost in his eyes. “Perfect!” Somehow, Keith’s shining smile grew even more as he ended his statement with a clap of his hands. He moved his hands apart and was about to step in even closer before he caught himself.

Keith pulled back and straightened himself upright, muting his demeanor as he said, “Do I have consent to touch you?” in a near customer service tone. Both the statement and delivery were so bizarre that you just stared back at him in astonishment. A moment passed as Keith just returned the look as he expectantly waited for your response. “We’re supposed to ask that every time before we start,” Tiffany chimed in, breaking the mounting silence. You glanced over to her as she continued, “It was the only way that the festival would allow us to be so… intimate with our ‘body paintings’. Although it would be more helpful if he had asked you that before he grabbed your arm and pulled you to his station.”

With that extra bit of clarification, you looked back at Keith, who continued to look back at you expectantly, like a puppy waiting for its treat.

Another half moment passed as he followed up with, “I’m not allowed to go forward until I get verbal confirmation.” With that conversational nudge, you let out a hurried, “Y-yes… you can”.

“Awesome!” he said, smiling with that unbridled joy once again. “So! What do you want? Where do you want it? And how ‘spicy’ do you want this experience to be?” Keith asked in quick succession, as he shifted from a sterile professional customer service tone to something more like a waiter at a hometown diner.

The three questions, spoken in that candid manner, caught you by surprise and left you speechless once more. You knew full well how personal he was with others, but you did not realize that there was a scale, nor did you know what the others you saw chose.

Keith waited a bit less this time and added, “The town allows us to be as …open as we want, as long as we have our volunteers keep their underpants on. …And we can help them out of their clothes if they request assistance.”

The leading suggestion was too obvious to ignore, even for you in this flustered state. You nodded, ‘yes’ to the offer as you lifted your arms. Keith grinned once more and stepped right in front of you. You felt his hot breath crash against your face. Keith waited a half beat before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your torso.

You felt a summer breeze run across your now bare chest as your shirt temporarily obscured your vision as it passed over your face before sliding off your arms. Once fully removed, Keith took a step back, draping your shirt over the back of a nearby chair before returning back to you, expectantly.

Running with the moment already given to you, you carefully kicked off your sneakers while your hands reached down and began to fumble with your belt buckle. Before you even thought of what would come next, you dropped your pants to reveal…a pair of tighty whites. 

With all the excitement around it, you completely forgot what you picked out from your underwear drawer as you headed out today. And here they were, on display for everyone to see: a plain pair of bleached white cotton briefs snuggly clinging to your waist. 

They were not even a designer brand.

Embarrassment blossomed inside of you, and you started to bend down to grab your pants to pull them back up.

Before you could, Kieth interjected, “No no no, don't pull them up, they’re cute!” Still feeling self-conscious, yet not wanting to disappoint him, you forced yourself to stand back up and continued to step out of your jeans, kicking the bundle of denim and shoes to the side. You then began to take off your white ankle socks before Kieth interrupted you once more. “No wait!” he said with a slight hurriness in his voice, “Leave those on… and here,” he added as he bent down to pick through your pants.

“Put these back on too,” as he presented the sneakers back to you.

You gave him a perplexed look. “You would just… look really hot with just them, your socks and undies,” he answered in a surprisingly sheepish voice as his face blushed.

Understanding the reason for the request, you took a pair from them and bent down to put them back on. While you were down there, you made sure to tighten up the laces and paid extra attention to ensure that the bows of the knots were perfectly set. Once done, you stood back up in your new attire to face Kieth, who was looking back at you with laser focus. His eyes moved up and down your body, taking in all the details with a mix of self-indulgent joy as well as sizing you up as an art project.

“Oh yeah, I can work with this,” he remarked, as he dragged his eyes back up to meet yours, finishing his little inspection.

“Now, what are your colors?”

You were too preoccupied with everything that the question caught you off guard. You just replied with a bewildered, “-wha?”

“You know, what flag colors do you want to rep?”

Without skipping a beat, Keith just continued, “Sarah made sure that we all had enough paint for any Pride flag out there. I can do: Gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, onmisexual, polysexual, demisexual, asexual, aromantic, agender, gender fluid, transgender, nonbinary, gender queer, demiboy, demigirl.”

He took a quick breath and followed up with, “I can also do the flags of… personal expression, like Leather Pride, Rubber Pride, Pup Pride, ABDL, Bear, and Lipstick lesbian…” As Keith effortlessly rattled off the other types of flags, you stood there trying to keep up with the wide array of options, with some that you had never heard of. 

There were so many options for what you were and what you were into. Truth be told, you never had the time to sit down and examine all of the different labels and see which one actually fit you.

Now you have to make up your mind and pick one.

What if people judged you?

What if you were not as committed to a label as you thought you were? What if they viewed you as a poser?

What if you were found out?

What if you choose wrong?

The worry roiling inside of you must have shown on your face because Keith abruptly stopped his near-encyclopedic listing.

“Hey, it’s…” he said in a comforting and apologetic tone, taking a half step closer to you, “it can be a lot, it’s ok if you are either still questioning or if you don't know yet.”

Upon hearing that, you took a deep breath and rebuilt your composure as you reeled in your mind that almost got away from you.

Once you were collected, Keith followed up in a hushed tone, “I can do a simple rainbow if you want.”

Seeing that as the out that it was, you nodded your head in response and said, “Yes, please.”

With your response, Keith reinflated back his confident street painter persona, taking a step back as he proclaimed, “One fully body ROY G. BIV Special coming right up!”

He then moved over to his work station as he began fiddling with the paint pots. A moment later, Keith turned back around, with his hands outstretched, palms facing you, and pausing to allow you to take it all in.

Each finger, down to the second knuckle, was coated in bright paints. On his right hand, his thumb was coated with true red paint, his index was covered in orange, and his middle finger was coated with yellow. The pattern continued with green paint on the thumb on his left hand, blue on his index, and purple on his middle finger. On both hands, his ring fingers, pinkies, and the remainder of his palms were completely clean.

You caught yourself smiling at the pose as that part of your brain realized that something was off.

Keith caught you inspecting his fingers, trying to find out what is amiss, “It’s actually a pretty common knowledge that there’s no such thing as the color ‘indio’,” he said in that playful matter-of-fact tone, “It’s just a lie pushed by Big Paint.” From the corner of your eye, you saw Jade, still hunched over their table, visibly wince at the declaration. Behind Keith, Stancy just took a sharp inhale. Once he realized that none of his friends were going to take the bait, Keith asked you, “Ready to begin?” Now you nodded enthusiastically. With your consent, Keith began his process.

Kieth slipped into a more focused expression as he began to approach you as if he were doing a dance. He started sidestepping, rotating around you clockwise, sizing you up the same way that Tiffany does.

You just stood there, with your arms by your side, eyes forward, and holding your breath.

His first move was to deliver an inch and a half stripe of red down your left bicep. Keith made it a point to slowly drag the tip of his thumb across your skin.

Even though you knew it was coming, you still flinched from the combination of excitement running through your body, the cold, wet sensation of the paint, and the long-awaited moment of physical touch.

Keith made sure you were okay before he continued delivering the five other stripes to complete the vertical rainbow flag, before completing his first orbit around you.

Once he was back to facing you head-on, he gestured with his fingers for you to lift your arms. You obliged, slowly bringing them up and out at shoulder width until they hung about forty-five degrees from your chest. 

In one sudden motion, Keith advanced. He stepped in, bringing himself right next to you, chest to chest, as he placed his hands on the outside of your arms, just above the elbow.

Your vision was filled with nothing but Kieth. He’s presence pushed away every other thought that you had in your head. In that moment, it was just you and him.

Keith held that position for a half second, maintaining eye contact with you even as he stepped back, gently pulling your arms back down to your waist as he dragged his hands down your arms, stopping at the wrists.

You savored the combined sensation of his cold, wet paint-covered fingers and the warm, dry touch of his palms and remaining fingers as they both caressed you. 

Even though you were caught up in the intimacy, you recognized that he still delivered a set of straight lines on both sides, with none of the colors getting mixed up.

Keith returned back to his work station, reapplying paint to his fingers before he brought his attention back to you and resumed slowly moving around. You just stayed facing forward, completely still, feeling like a cross between a marble statue and a captured prey.

A still moment passed, then he pounced again.

This time, Keith stepped up right behind you, pressing his chest against your back as he placed his hands at the top of your elbows again. He slowly ran his fingers down your arms, completing the rainbow pattern as he moved in even closer to you, bringing his hips right against your rear.

Keith maintained that position as he lifted his hands.

He lowered his head to be right next to your ear as he placed his paint-covered fingers on your sides, just below your ribs.

In a quiet stage whisper, he asked, “This might just be me going a little fast,” as he delivered the smallest bit of grinding against your rear, “but are you a top or a bottom?”

He punctuated the question by running his finger down your side, angling it so that the paint stripes ended just before the elastic band on your tighty whities. The boldness of both the action and the question caused your spine to arch as you let out a small ‘yelp’.

Keith let out a playful laugh at your reaction, “Oh, you’re cute.” “See, despite what everyone thinks of the big, strong, confident, ‘himbo hunk’, he continued as he pulled back his hands and crossed his arms behind you to resume the painting, “I’m actually a verse switch and I have a soft spot for timid little fellas like you.”

The compliment caused you to go beet red in the face.

Keith just continued to lap up your flustered reactions as he moved back around to face you, all while maintaining the same intimate distance. 

“You know,” he added as he crouched down to apply rainbow stripes from your thigh down to your calves, at the top of your socks. “There’s going to be a sort of Pride Paint After Party later tonight. It’s kinda a closed invite kinda thing, hosted by Tiffney. It’s going to be at the co-op art studio warehouse, behind closed doors, so we’re allowed to get much more…. Messy.”

He positioned himself in such a way that when he looked up to wink at you, it was over your undeniable bulge in your underwear.

“And I would love for you to splatter me,” he said as he sensually ran his fingers down your leg. You felt your face flush once more as your body temperature rose. Before you could even think about it, you once again witnessed your head nod up and down as your eyes remained locked on his.

“Wonderful!” Keith replied as a wide smile spread across as he carefully reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card with his ring and pinky finger. He then pulled himself, maintaining the distance and eye contact, while just barely grazing his face with your crotch.

With your face completely occupied by Keith once more, you felt him reach down and carefully pull the elastic of your brief. He slipped the card halfway in and then proceeded to snap the waistband to pin it in place.

“That has all the information you need on it. It’s also the official invitation, but I doubt the bouncers will say that you don’t belong.” While still staring into your eyes, he brought his fingers up and began to tenderly caress your face, putting one last rainbow pattern across your right cheek while subtly grinding against you.

He then stepped away to give you a quick once-over before concluding, “...and done!” You snapped out of your daze and finally looked down to inspect yourself.

You were still you, just now you were decked out in rainbows all over your nearly naked body, with your invite sticking out of your front. 

Your eyes roamed over yourself, taking in the bright lines, the curves, and marveling at what was done to get them. You looked good, not just good but right.

From deep down below, a type of joy swelled up from deep inside of you. A content smile grew across your face as you returned your attention to Kieth.

“Th-thank you.”

“Don't mention it, buddy. It’s a part of the reason I do this,” Keith said, replying to both what was said and not said.

“Now go out and celebrate Pride in style!”  as he gestured you out of the canopy and back to the main street. Still feeling that joy inside of you, you complied. You strolled out of the cover of the tent and into the sunlight. As you reentered the crowd with your new look, you heard Keith shout out, “you can swing by after the festival to retrieve your clothes!” ***

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[redinthefaceandcheeks]

The Rutting Runt

This story was created in collaboration with Hornyclawprints and Blake

“I’m telling you, I read the reviews, everyone is saying it really works!” 

“Come on, Bruv, you believe anything said online,” the elephant huffed, “All those things are just snake oil stuff, no way it does what it claims it does.”

He downed the rest of his protein shake before slamming the empty cup on the counter and gesturing to the hyena manning the station for a refill.

“It would be cool if it did do everything it said it would do,” Blake added as he picked up the cup and began scooping heaping spoonfuls of protein powder into the cup.

He then added the juice and shook it thoroughly. As he did, Blake shot a glance down at the bottle that sat between the three of them. It was a small, white, round plastic pill bottle with a twist cap, nearly identical to what one would find at a vitamin supplement store. Wrapped around the bottle was a label with the words “Gro-Now” typed out in flaming bold letters against a plain black background, accompanied by the tag lines “Unleash your beast,” “Rapid Results,” and “improve your manliness,” just underneath.

On the back of the bottle, in a white text box, were the instructions “Take one pill a day until reaching desired results,” with no other information beyond that. “I mean, boosting your gains while giving your cock an extra bit of growth would be amazing,” Blake added as he placed the drink back in front of Hal. “Bah!” said Hal as he picked up the cup with his trunk.

The grey pachyderm then straightened his back, drawing attention to his body, “Every part of me was created with good ol’ honest hard work.”

He punctuated the end of the sentence with a mighty double-arm flex, which still glistened with the sheen of his workout.

It was a truly impressive physique. Hal was tall and broad-shouldered, all accented with thick muscles. It took the elephant decades of dedication to sculpt his body into something that would allow him to win multiple bodybuilding and weightlifting tournaments, which cemented him as a local celebrity in Bruv’s gym.

Hal was currently wearing gym shorts and a tank top, anything to show off his pristine form, along with the torso tattoos and pierced nipples that decorated his body.

“And I worked hard to keep this figure,” he added as he gave a not-so-subtle side eye to Bruv.

“Yeah, Yeah.” Bruv grumbled, “I want to see you try to keep your form when you’re constantly running a business.” Bruv, sitting a couple of seats away at the counter, was a simple bear with an orangish brown fur covering his body. He was just as big, just in a different way. While he had the frame and the thick arms and legs from his old wrestling days, it was accompanied by a layer of fat that came from his new life behind a desk. Because of that new lifestyle, the most prominent feature on his body was the soft gut that now protruded out in front of him. Bruv was also wearing a set of gym shorts and a tank top, also from his glory days. As a result, both were forced to stretch to cover his current body. The shorts were pulled across his wide ass, which was balanced on one of the barstools, and his tank top constantly rode up to expose his stomach. “You own your own gym! And it’s practically dead most of the time, how could you not keep in shape!?” The elephant countered. “Business has been slow since the renovations,” Bruv said, trying to pivot the conversation on the least embarrassing part of Hal’s statement. “I just need to find a new angle to advertise this place,” he added as he looked out at the high-ceiling warehouse that held all the new unused gym machines. “At least ease off the company pizza parties you throw every Friday,” Hal said as he reached over to jab at Bruv’s belly band.

“I like your pizza parties, boss!” Blake said, coming to the bear’s aid.

Blake took a rag and began absentmindedly wiping the counter to stay in the conversation. The hyena was the last one to comprise the trio, he was the youngest and smallest of the three, yet still impressive in his own right.

His brown fur covered his back and sides, with darker brown spots on his shoulders and tan fur on the front. He had a handful of true blue hair on his head with matching tufts of chest hair that were poking up from underneath his slightly too-tight work uniform. Blake was also broad-shouldered, even for a hyena, and was almost on par with Hal by proportions, which he always joked was because he had a bit of rhino in his family tree. Blake was one whose passion for the gym did not come from competitions or sports, but from the pure act of working out. Without any coaches to guide the way, he just did his own thing and pumped iron at the gym. That left him with big beefy arms, legs, and pecs, along with a somewhat neglected lower torso and waist that gave his body an almost hourglass figure. “He cut your checks, you have to like them.”  Hal shot back, “You’re still young enough that you don’t have to worry about junk food yet. Besides, I see you spend more time using the machines than working. You can afford a few extra slices.”

“Is that why you got those pills?” turning his attention back to Bruv, “To get your old body back? Or is it just to see your dick again?” as the elephant nodded down at the bear’s groin. “Hey! That was just an…. unintended side effects that some of the reviewers mentioned.” Bruv stammered out. “Sure it is,” Hal answered in an unbelieving tone.

“I would not mind getting bigger,” Blake cut in a bit too eagerly, “it could really push me past my current plateau,” striking a pose with his arms.

“Plus, it wouldn’t hurt my chances of getting some tail~,” he added wistfully, “Maybe we should try it, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“No thanks for me,” said the elephant, “You don’t know what’s even in there, and even if it did work, I don’t think the world could handle if I gained even an extra inch on this bad boy,” he said as he spread his legs to display his crotch.

“But by all means,” Hal went on, throwing his hands in the air, “don't let me stop either one of you from taking the plunge,” as he threw the spotlight back on the other two with a glint in his eyes.

Blake scratched the back of his head and used that as an excuse to sheepishly look away while Bruv mumbled something along the lines that he actually bought it to share. Before an awkward moment could actually form, the front door buzzed, and all three turned around to see a scrawny tiger enter.

“Oh, it’s just Jake,” Hal said with mild disdain.

Jake was sporting sneakers, cargo shorts, a graphic pressed t-shirt, and a pair of black rimmed glasses with a messenger bag filled to the brim with school supplies. He had the body of someone who picked up more books from the library than weights at a gym. Jake scanned the empty gym floor until he spotted Blake. His eyes lit up as he gave the hyena a big way and a smile before making his way over. “Ugh, why is the wimp here?” the elephant grunted under his breath. “Be nice to the kid,” Bruv said, “He’s technically a fellow gym member.”

“Hardly, he only signed up because Blake offered him the friends and family rate. Even then, he only comes in because loverboy here keeps sliding him free shakes.”

“Hey, I got him to work out a few times,” Blake said in a hushed tone, “and besides, he saved my ass with homework last semester. What else could I do?”

“Charge him,” Hal was able to say just before Jake got into earshot, as Blake cut in with a rather loud, friendly greeting. “Hey, man! How’s it going?”

“It’s going pretty good,” Jake said as he smiled back at Blake, taking a seat between Bruv and Hal. As Jake rested his bag on the floor, it became painfully apparent how out of place he was among the others.

“I figured I would swing by to see how you are doing.” “Oh, it’s been pretty quiet around here,” Blake replied as Hal snorted at Bruv, “How’s tutoring?” “It’s been good,” Jake said, “One of the science professors has a big test coming up, so my availability block has been booked solid.”

Overhead, Hal rolled his eyes towards Blake and Bruv. Jake then brought his hand up to his throat and cleared it, “Actually, I’m quite parched. Can I grab something to drink?” “Certainly!” Blake said as he went to grab a new cup. That was when Hal’s eyes drifted down towards the white pill bottle as he realized the potential in front of him.

“Actually,” the elephant said as he snatched the bottle and turned towards the newcomer.

“Would you like to help us out?” Hal said in a now over-sincere voice, “See, we have this new vitamin supplement that just came in.” Hal shook the bottle in his massive hand, “and we wanted to see if it was good enough to incorporate it into the gym’s shakes… You know, to ‘shake’ up the menu,” he tacked on, thinking fast.

Around the tiger, both Bruv and Blake realized the opportunity they now had. “Yeah, I… erm, we found them online and we wanted to see if it was really all that it was cut out to be,” Bruv said.

“And … since all three of us already… so big,” Hal said as he struggled to come up with a credible lie on the spot, “... we all thought that you were the best one to conduct this little experiment.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Bruv added on as he eagerly shook his head. “I don’t know,” Jake replied, leaning back from Hal’s advance, “I'm not really that athletic for this to work…” “All the more reason for you to be you!” the elephant responded with a smile.

“Yeah! It’s like you’re … urm… a control group,” Blake chimed in, trying to help their case as he slid the juice shake over to Jake.

“So what do you say?” Hal said, opening the bottle, shaking out a few of the white oval onto his other hand, and extending it out to him. “What’s even in it?” Jake tried to peer at the bottle label through Hal’s thick fingers, “Is it safe?”

“Oh, totally safe,” Bruv said, jumping in, “I got them from the internet!”

The tiger then looked over to Blake. Jake’s eyes met his as the hyena said with earnest sincerity, “I always did say you would look good with a bit of extra muscle.” “Oh…ok then,” Jake said, blushing as Blake flashed him a double thumbs up and a smile.

The tiger then extended his arm and reached out to take a single pill from Hal’s hand. He then turned back to Blake. He then slowly placed the little white pill in his mouth and brought the cup to his lips.

As he did, both Bruv and Blake leaned in. Jake downed the shake in one go and tried to imitate slamming the cup down on the counter the best that he could.

“Ahhhh!~” Jake said with a loud gasp.

There was a moment of shared anticipation between the bear and the hyena before…. Nothing happened. They both let out a quite disappointed sigh as Jake began to catch on that something should have occurred.

“Idiots,” Hal muttered, “You two didn’t honestly expect to be that fast acting?” “I mean, I kinda hoped,” Blake replied out of the corner of his mouth right as the tiger turned to look at Bruv’s expected expression, “...Maybe it takes a few minutes?”

Before Hal could reply, Jake began reaching for his bag. “Well…thanks for the juice shake…and the vitamin booster thing.. I’ll.. erm report back and tell you if I notice any changes, thank you again.”

“Wait! … uhmm….” Blake said, scrambling to find something to keep him there longer, “ How was- what's new with your… campaign?” At that, Jake’s demeanor instantly changed from hesitant suspension of Hal and Bruv to delight as he turned back to the hyena. “It’s actually going great! Tomorrow’s our next session, and we’re finally at the entrance of the Dark Lord’s Tower! We spent all last session shopping for supplies so we’re ready for anything the BBEG throws at us! I made sure to visit the town’s shopkeeper and….” “Of course he is,” Hal whispered to Bruv, leaning behind Jake’s back as he continued to spiel to Blake, who was already whipping up another shake for the tiger.

Bruv hushed him as he kept his eyes locked on the tiger. Hal let out another humph and glanced towards the clock on the wall. The conversation moved from Jake’s Role-playing game adventures to the recent science fiction shows, the latest video games he was playing, and the progress on their schoolwork. While it was clear to the other two that Blake had absolutely no idea what Jake was going on about, he kept laying on the charm and asking just enough questions to keep the conversation going.

All the while, Bruv stayed focused on Jake, trying to pick up any hints of potential developments in the tiger. Hal just drummed his thick fingers on the counter as he continued to check the clock. After the first thirty minutes of that nerdy conversation, Jake remained unchanged.

“See? Nothing happened. Told you they were nothing but sugar pills,” Hal mumbled to Bruv.

“Give it a few more minutes to kick in,” Bruv said in a hushed whisper as he looked between Jake and the pill bottle next to Hal, “… any moment now.” With that, the four of them stayed there for an extra hour and a half, well after closing, while Hal was continually strung along by the fantastical promise of growth made by his friend. Just as Jake was about to go into the play-by-play of the recent card game tournament, and following one more desperate plea from Bruv, Hal snapped.

The elephant slammed his hands down onto the counter and rose to his feet, and he shouted, “Enough!” He then grabbed the bottle of pills on the counter and turned to Jake with a crazed frenzy in his eyes. Before anyone could even react, Hal snaked his trunk around the startled tiger’s neck and effortlessly dragged him up into the air.

Bruv jumped to his feet, Blake dropped his cleaning rag, and Hal took a wide step backwards.

“I told you that this fucking pills were fake and I’m going to show it to both of you,” Hal said as he began aggressively trying to fiddle with the plastic lid with his massive hands.

After a few increasingly frustrated moments of pressing down and turning it the right way, the pill bottle popped open. Hal then used the tip of his trunk to snake into the side of the flailing Jake’s mouth and forced an opening. He then brought the bottle over the tiger’s maw and overturned the whole thing.

Loose pills scattered on the title gym floor around Hal’s feet as most of them landed in Jake’s open mouth.

Jake coughed and sputtered, trying his best to spit them out, but Hal’s rage was relentless. Hal held the tiger in place as he used his fingers to scoop the pills caught between his trunk and Jake’s face and neck and pushed them back in, only releasing the frantic tiger after he choked down all of them.

Once it was all gone, Hal dropped Jake to the floor and turned back to the astonished Bruv and Blake. Sat back down and huffed, “Now we’ll see if they actually work on the twerp.” “Not cool,” Bruv snapped back. There was a still moment where the only sound in the gym came from Jake, sputtering as he got back to his feet. Once he was upright, he turned towards Blake and Bruv, looking for help on how best to respond.

The still blindsided hyena, with nothing else coming to mind, just asked, “Are you ok, dude?’ Jake just let out a quiet, “Yeah, I’m… ok” as he brushed his clothes with his hands, “I’m just …” he trailed off, attempting to come up with the right words while also trying to wrap his head around what happened. “Here,” Blake said hurriedly once he realized that Jake was not majorly injured, “Let me fix you another shake.”

“No! No.. I’m good, thank you. I think I had my fill,” Jake said a little too fast as he shot a glance at Hal.

He then cautiously reapproached the shake counter, making sure to keep the elephant in sight, before grabbing the bag and quickly scuttling backwards.

“s-Sorry for being a bore, I’ll get go-,” Jake stopped mid-sentence.

The tiger’s eyes bulged out of their sockets as its face went slack. He then hunched over and wrapped his arms around his stomach, followed by a painful groan.

“My body feels…. tingly,” he was finally able to say just before his body violently convulsed.

It was a full-body lurch that started in his core and stampeded up his spine, over his shoulders, and through his neck, which caused his head to rock back and forth from the result. Jake’s glasses clattered to the floor as his arms unlatched themselves around his torso. After he was sure the episode had passed, Jake slowly pulled himself back up to look at the concerned trio.

He stood a bit taller than before, and his shirt was just a bit tighter around the edges. 

Jake was about to ask a question when he was interrupted by another equally violent full-body lurch. The entire thing happened in the blink of an eye, but since Bruv, Hal, and Blake had their full attention on Jake, they were able to see every detail. The convulsion originated from the tiger’s stomach and seemed to ripple out in all directions across his body. As the spasm moved, it looked like Jake’s body was forced to stretch out from within. It was as if a gust of air rocketed through him, temporarily inflating the limbs as it moved to his fingers and toes before it constricted again. Even as the surge went down, it left Jake with more ‘mass’ than before.

Now the tiger had a set of biceps and calves that were straining against his t-shirt’s sleeves and cargo shorts’ legs.

It was not just muscle mass that was added. Once Jake recovered, all three of them saw that he did not just have broader shoulders, but he had a few more inches to his height. All those changes came together to give the nerd a moderate athletic build.

“Damn,” Blake uttered in amazement, taking in all of his friend’s sudden changes.

“What the hell, they actually work,” Hal said in astonishment.. Bruv said nothing as he was too preoccupied with the tiger’s shorts, staring at the now noticeable bulge between Jake’s legs.

It took a moment for Jake to reorient himself and to realize why the others were looking at him with wonder instead of concern. Once he caught on, he brought his hands in front of him and began to marvel at the changes himself.

“Whoa,” Jake said in a slightly deeper tone of voice.

He then twisted his arms back and forth and wiggled his fingers, as if to confirm that the changes were not just real, but they were, in fact, his.

“This is incredible,” Jake said, joining the others in the building excitement. “So… how far is this supposed to go?” Jake asked, turning back to Blake and Bruv.

“They don’t really say,” Blake answered, “the packaging is pretty scarce on information like that, they just said a single dose is enough to ‘Unleash your beast’.”

“Huh,” Jake said, bringing his attention back to his outstretched right arm, giving it an exploratory flex before pausing, “Wait…didn’t I take-” Before he could finish that question, another volatile lurch barged through him. This time, it only traveled along his raised arm. The growth was just as fast but much more drastic. From his shoulder blade to his hand, Jake’s arms exploded with mass. It was not just muscle but also bone structure. Within seconds, Jake’s arms swelled to massive proportions as his shirt sleeve was reduced to shreds.

The end result was a huge limb packed with muscles that was pushing through his fur. It looked more like Hal’s arm than Jake’s, and the fact that it was still attached to the rest of the tiger made it look even more jarring. Jake’s legs immediately buckled under the added weight and the sudden change in his center of gravity, letting out a, “Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!” as he began to flail around to rebalance himself.

Since it was still his arm, Jake’s massively muscular arm joined the other arm in windmilling, causing him to continue to be knocked off balance. Just before he fell, Jake was able to plant his huge hand on the floor and use that as a way to prop himself up. Now that he had stopped moving, everyone could inspect the additional details. Not only were there much more muscles and mass, but the fur on his arm changed as well. The orange fur was now much darker in color and just a bit coarser, and at the end of his fingers were now talon-length claws. “This… this too-” Jake tried to say with frantic worry in his voice, just as another lurch announced itself.

This one ran down his other arm, which was now in the air, swelling it up to match the other in size. The force physically pulled Jake in the opposite direction. Luckily, he was quick enough to respond by placing his newly changed forearm on the floor, catching himself. Now he had two monstrously beefy arms attached to his petite, by comparison, body, holding himself up. But before anyone could say anything, Jake’s body fired off again with a series of growth spurts, one right after another.

One leg burst out with the same amount of muscles and growth, followed shortly by the other legs. Then his torso, which helped round out the shape of his body. Each drastic change was also accompanied by major tears in his clothes where his orange fur poked through.

“What’s HapPENING TO ME!?” Jake shouted as another major growth spurt traveled up his neck, causing his skull and mouth to morph in mid-sentence.

His forehead was now more pronounced, along with a jaw that jutted outwards and a set of thick teeth that was covered by a prominent set of lips, save for the set of canine teeth that extended downwards and out of his mouth.

The trio remained speechless as all of their eyes watched the events unfold in front of them.

The growths continued to wreak havoc on Jake, staying just as random and volatile, yet becoming smaller in scale, targeting specific areas of his body. He quickly became overwhelmed as he hunkered back down, wrapped his rippling arms around himself, and tried his best to just maintain his balance on his still-growing legs. The only time he moved was when he adjusted his stance to allow recently formed new muscle clusters on his body the space it demanded.

The whole ordeal was physically taxing, as evidenced by Jake’s panting and how his thickening body fur was getting heavy with the sweat of a full-body workout. Too overwhelmed by all of it, Jake did not bother to try to speak with his new mouth, instead, he just responded to the bombardment of growth patterns with groans and growls.

While they held up a good fight, it was here that his clothes finally met their match. His shoes were the first to give way as each one exploded outwards as his pawed foot burst out in all directions. Almost on instinct, each foot wiggled their huge, padded toes to shake off the debris between them. 

Blake, Bruv, and Hal remained speechless as their eyes tracked upwards, as all the seemingly random muscle clusters came together to turn Jake into a tower of muscle that dwarfed all of them.

The next casualty was Jake’s already stretched shirt, which gave way with a few more growth spurts. The t-shirt was reduced to ribbons, fluttering to the floor, revealing his chiseled back. Jake shook off the remains of his shirt, which pushed out a wave of testosterone-infused musk that crashed upon the three and flooded outward, washing away all other scents of the empty gym.

Eventually, the torrent of growth spurts subsided back down to a few manageable spasms, which left Jake a gasping mess as he stayed doubled over. Once he was sure the most intense part had ended, he began to unfold himself while pulling himself up to his new height.

Jake was now an absolute hulking beast that towered over the group and was in danger of scraping his knuckles against the gym’s ceiling if he lifted his arms. His fur was thicker and drenched with sweat, causing his orange and black fur pattern to look even darker. The sweat also weighed down his fur, which showed off the full extent of his muscles underneath. 

Now that he was finally standing upright, the trio saw that Jake’s head continued with its transformation. Along with the strong jawline, his mouth was now sporting a pair of six-inch fangs that grew down to his chin. His skull became more prominent as well, with a forehead that almost sloped in front of his eyes. The only thing that remained of the old Jake was the sturdiest parts of his cargo shorts, which were stretched taut around his hips, thoroughly soaked and holding on by a thread.

Jake first grappled with the new perspective from his height before examining the mounds of new muscles all around him. As he did so, he let out a series of grunts and garbled verbalizations as he tried to speak to himself through his toothier mouth. The tiger-beast then brought his gaze down to the trio watching him, looking over each one as a myriad of complicated thoughts and emotions began to form on his face.

First, his eyes went to Blake, trying to read the awestruck look on the hyena’s face and gauge his reaction to the sudden transformation. Then it moved over to Bruv and gave the bear an embarrassed look once he realized how much of a scene he had made in his gym.

Finally, Jake turned his gaze down at Hal, the one who was responsible for him being in this predicament. The one that forced him to take all those pills and made him into this monstrous freak. Anger rose within the tiger-beast, but just before he acted upon it, something else inside of Jake demanded priority. 

Jake whipped his head down to his hips, drawing the other’s attention to it as well. The tiger-beast then began to paw at the remaining bit of cargo shorts with his massive fingers, trying to get ahead of what was coming next but ultimately failing.

Jake pulled his hands back as a growth spurt rippled across his groin. The tiger-beast arched his body backwards, grunting in pain, as he resumed frantically pawing at the now growing bulge. The sound of popping seams joined Jake’s grunts as the remaining fabric gave way. With that, Jake’s cock burst out, finally free to stretch out like the rest of him. “Holy shit,” Blake uttered as the other two gasped. The cock was just as massive and impressive as the rest of him. The shaft was thick and veiny, glistening under the harsh gym lights while only being semi-erect. The tip was adorned with soft nubs around the head, and the entire thing was accompanied by a set of equally sized balls that swung between his legs.

Now freed from the fabric prison, and almost on cue, a series of additional growth spasms rippled down from Jake’s torso and carried along his junk, causing it to twitch, while forcing it to expand in size, as it continually pushed out squirts of precum that splattered onto the floor.

With each squirt, another more potent heatwave of testosterone crashed upon the three, causing each of them to unconsciously steal a sniff as they all stirred in place.

Eventually, the growth spurt subsided as Jake was left with a set of cock and balls that were not only massive compared to the others but disproportionately huge for the tiger-beast himself. The now fully erect cock extended outwards at an angle, standing tall enough to come up to the top of his washboard abs. Jake was also forced to widen his stance to allow his bowling ball sized balls to hang freely. Jake’s attention remained fixated on his newest development, staring at it in wonder as he slowly brought his hand up to inspect it. The moment his hands made contact with the cock, both he and it shuddered in pleasure. Driven by that small reaction, the primal side of the tiger-beast’s brain took over as he grabbed his monstrous cock with both hands and began stroking it. 

All sense of dignity that Jake would have had went out the window as he ran his hands up and down the sides of his twitching shaft, grunting while not caring about the gushing precum that was running over his fingers. He was just focused on following this sensation and seeing where it goes.

The trio was all still too amazed by everything that happened to form any coherent thought, save for not daring to interrupt the spectacular show. All three of them just continued watching as Jake worked up a sweat to provide the amount of pleasure that his cock demanded. Blake was locked on Jake’s facial expression, Hal remained focused on the size of the cock, and Bruv just watched the liters of precum flow out from the tip and dripped upon his tiled floor. 

After a few heated moments, the tiger-beast’s breath quickened as Jake scrunched up his face. He then bent his knees and aimed his cock upwards as he let out a primal roar, as his balls convulsed and his cock gave one more natural spasm.

The roar resonated around the gym as a geyser of cum came shooting out. The load shot straight up into the air, hitting the gym ceiling with enough force to ricochet off of it and fall back down. “Damn, what a load!”

“Whoa nelly!”

“Holy Fuck!”

Blake, Bruv, and Hal each proclaimed as they all brought their arms up, trying to shield themselves from the sudden shower of cum.

Jake remained focused on his cock, riding the high as he continued to massage the last bit of his load out of his balls. He eventually began to slow down his stroking as his breathing became more ragged. The tiger-beast got to the point where he removed his hands from his shaft and allowed his cock a break.

Yet the moment it looked like his cock was ready to go down, Jake’s eyes went wide as he braced himself. The tiger-beast let out a startled yell as his body shuddered from another spasm that started deep in his balls and coursed through his cock, bringing it back up to full mast.

From below, Blake saw on Jake’s face that he was on the verge of compromising a thought about this, but he got distracted as lust overrode his brain. The hulking creature then resumed the position and began to pleasure himself once again with the same reckless abandon. 

It was clear that Jake was trying to rush through this process by giving his body the exact stimulation it needed to climax again. After a few double-handed strokes, something inside of Jake registered that he needed to step up his technique to get the same result. The tiger-beast then twisted his body to bring his left hand further down to reach his hanging balls and give them the attention they deserved.

Jake continued to grunt as the sound of squelching filled the air, as his hand was frantically gliding up and down his cum covered shaft. With enough attention and care, the tiger-beast grunts shifted into expected moans as he braced himself as an equally large load erupted from him, up into the air to rain back down on all of them.

Jake let out another sigh of relief as he pulled himself away from his massive cock and righted himself back up. The now thoroughly drenched tiger-beast, standing in a puddle of cum and sweat, had a face that was beet red from a combination of exertion and embarrassment. Jake tried to compose himself yet again by bringing his attention to the three to resume the ‘conversation’ they were just having.

Yet the peace was short-lived as his body let out another lurch through his balls.

“Oh Fuck! It’s not stopping,” Blake shouted, verbalizing the exact horrified thought that crossed Jake’s mind.

In those few fleeting moments before his primal lust would hijack his brain and force him to go through it all over again, Jake turned his focus on the one responsible for all of this. Anger burst within the tiger-beast’s brutish eyes as he half-lept, half-stumbled the few steps over to the elephant. All three flinched at the sight of the sopping wet naked hulking beast rampaging right toward them, bringing along his potent stench of fresh cum straight from the source. That was all the opportunity he needed as Jake brought his hands down around the thick biceps of the weight-lifting elephant, pinning his arms to his sides.

The tiger-beast then easily hoisted Hal up, bringing the pachyderm to his eye level. Their friend was lifted upwards, and both Blake and Bruv could not help but notice that Jake’s cock was twitching just a bit faster.

“YOU!!” The word bellowed up the tiger-beast’s throat, through his massive jaw, and past his set of elongated teeth.

The color drained out of Hal’s face as his ears flapped behind him from the roar.

That was followed by a second of contemplation as Jake’s forehead furrowed as he tried to navigate through his anger and all the racing thoughts he had about his new body to come up with a form of payback, all while his body kept pumping more and more blood into his groin. Just as a solution began to crystallize in his mind, it was quickly shattered as the more demanding need from his cock muscled into the mental front stage. Frustration mounted as the tiger-beast realized that his hands were full as his impatient cock started demanding attention.

Jake looked at the elephant and found his solution to both problems. The tiger-beast then flipped Hal end over end so that the elephant’s feet were in the air and his trunk dangled towards the floor. That was enough to snap the stunned Hal back to his senses as he let out a few, “Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!” followed by a bewildered, “What’s going-” He never had a chance to finish that sentence as Jake, reverting to automatic actions, lifted him into the air and positioned the wiggling elephant in such a way that Hal was directly overhead his new, fully erect cock. 

There was a moment of stunned silence that was shared between Hal, Blake, and Bruv, not comprehending what was going on and not daring to believe what would happen next. Each from different vantage points, they saw Jake bring the elephant down, face-first, onto the spikey head of his leaking cock.

The terrified Hal had at least some semblance of mind to keep his mouth open as the massive cock barged past his lips. With only a modicum of consideration, Jake did not force Hal to take all of him right away. The tiger-beast paused his action once the head entered the elephant’s mouth.

Hal remained thrashing the best he could within the tiger-beast’s grip, trying his best to twist his neck to get his mouth free. Yet all that resistance provided the opposite result to what he was hoping for. Jake’s knees buckle a bit, and the tiger-beast’s eyes go cross-eyed as he let out a moan of pleasure from all that new stimulation and held on to Hal even tighter. The other two saw the tiger-beast’s cock spasm, followed shortly by Hal coughing as precum came flowing out of the sides of his mouth. The novelty of the new sensation did not last for long as the need for more pleasure began to grow within Jake, forcing him to direct his attention back to his new plaything. With both hands, he began to force Hal to bob up and down on his cock using the previous loads, the new precum, and Hal’s spit as a makeshift lube.

Blake and Bruv just continued to watch in both astonishment and wonder as, with Jake’s brutish strength and now single-minded determination, he was able to work over Hal’s throat to take more and more of his shaft. All the while, Hal continued to sputter and resorted to using his trunk to continue breathing as he was also using it to wail against the mountain of muscle that was now Jake.

Once the tiger-beast pushed Hal’s throat to the absolute physical limit, he pivoted to keep moving him up and down, using the available range as a living fleshlight. Even with that, the ravenous libido kept demanding even more. Frustration began to build up inside of Jake once again as he realized that while holding onto Hal with both hands, he could not give himself any more pleasure.

The hulking beast let out a series of annoyed grunts as he began looking around for any solution to his problem, and he continued to use Hal.  Then, the more resourceful part of Jake came forth with a solution. He paused his movement with his plaything as he brought Hal even closer to him, pressing his upside-down torso against his.

While balancing the elephant and himself, the tiger beast then moved his left hand around, bringing his arm across Hal’s back, and used that to pin him in place. Jake then released his right hand and grabbed the elephant’s failing trunk. He roared at the end of it before he proceeded to force it down to his groin, slowly dragging the nose over his balls, through his taint, and shoving it deep into the crevice of his ass. Once in position, the tiger-beast clenched his thighs to keep the wiggling trunk in place. With his free hand, Jake went back up to his torso and began to pinch his right nipple as he fell back to indulge in the bliss of immediate pleasure.

While nothing was said, the message was crystal clear. Hal accepted defeat, surrendered any remaining resistance he had, and resigned to be reduced to huffing Jake’s ass musk through the only airway he had left.

The feeling of Hal’s trunk pressed around his taint and his breath against his asshole, along with basking in the victory over the elephant, pressed all of the tiger-beast's buttons. Soon after maintaining that position, Jake’s face began to contort once more. Sweat began to form on his brow as he let out the telltale grunts as he readied himself, and now his fleshlight, for another load.

There was another roar of pleasure as Jake’s balls twitched as he unloaded into Hal.

Hal tried his best to swallow it, but there was just too much. The load came gushing out of his mouth, running over Jake’s balls. The elephant continued to struggle through it, but he coughed, and soon hot white cum began to spray out of his trunk, right in between the tiger-beast’s asscheeks.

Ecstasy and relief came over the tiger-beast’s face as he revelled in the debauchery. He continued to perform a few more one-armed lifts on Hal, as well as a few hip thrusts to ensure that he pumped everything he had into him.

Once thoroughly drained, Jake swayed from side to side, which was difficult both in his new body and with the added mass of Hal attached to his groin. The tiger-beast shook his head and repositioned himself as he grabbed the now limp elephant with both hands. He slowly proceeds to lift Hal off his flaccid cock before discarding him.

Both Bruv and Blake watched as Hal landed on his back with a wet ‘squelch’. With a face now plastered cum, the elephant let out a moan of freedom before passing out. As that occurred, they could not help but notice just how protruded his stomach was and how much it sloshed from the sudden movements.

The bear and hyena then slowly turned their attention back to the now gasping creature that stood in front of them. Jake was still as imposing as ever, and with his heavy breathing, he had the illusion that his body was still growing. As he looked down between the two remaining gym members, there was a streak of shame on his brutish face as Jake began to process the full extent of what he had done. His eyes focused on his friend, who was still covered with the cum of his first two loads, and he began to shrink away.

Blake, still behind the counter, just looked up in pure astonishment. Once he recognized that Jake was being self-conscious about… everything, the hyena gave him a huge, reassuring smile. “Holy Hell! Look at the size of you… You’re fucking HUGE!” Blake blurted out with earnest enthusiasm as he began to take in all the details of Jake’s new body.

“I guess the pills really do their job,” Bruv said, putting down his guard, as he unapologetically began rubbing himself through his soaked gym shorts.

With everything that happened, neither one bothered trying to hide the fact that their eyes kept gravitating towards Jake’s junk.

Jake let out a toothy smile upon hearing their acceptance and began to visibly relax. Fighting through the exhaustion, he then began to flex and put on a one-man muscle show to the smitten hyena.

“Now how am I going to clean all this up?” he asked more to himself as he looked around the mess in his gym.

Jake just continued to show off to the enamored Blake, who was ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at every pose the tiger-beast gave. The show was interrupted as the tiger-beast froze in place, as an all too familiar sensation overtook him.

Jake’s face dropped as he looked down and saw that his exhausted monster cock began twitching once again, forcing itself to get hard once again. He then whipped his head back up towards Blake and Bruv as they saw that look of panic in Jake’s eyes, which was beginning to get clouded by uncontrollable lust.

Realizing where this was going to play out if left unchecked, Buv jumped to his feet and shouted back to Blake, “We’re not out of the woods yet! Looks like the doses are still going strong…. We might have to subdue him before he makes us both his next cumsock.” Blake sprang into action. He vaulted over the shake bar counter, landing next to his boss. The two of them readied themselves as Jake was frantically trying to push down his growing cock and libido, and losing against both. “You sweep his legs and hold them down,” Bruv commanded, lowering his stance as he fell back into his old wrestling days, “I’ll take his arms.” “Got it.” 

With that, the two of them ran straight towards the tiger-beast. Bruv circled around Jake, making sure to stay out of his reach to get behind him while Blake barreled full steam ahead.

“Sorry little buddy,” Blake said as he angled his shoulder and braced himself as he collided against Jake’s waist. Between the hyena’s mass, his speed, and Jake’s own exhaustion, the tiger-beast was pushed off balance. Jake let out a primal roar as he fell backwards, creating an earth-shattering ‘THUD!’ as his mammoth cock bounced around in the air.

Seizing the opportunity presented to him, Bruv dove in. He wrapped his arms around Jake’s right forearm and locked his legs around the left, pinning them in place.

Recovering from the impact, Blake ducked under the set of heavy balls and planted himself face-first against his groin as he did his best to grapple the huge quads with each arm and pull them together.

Between their might and Jake on the ground, pinned in place, there was a briefest glimmer of victory.

Then the cock throbbed, pushing another gushing wave of precum out and down the shaft. It cascaded over Blake as Jake began to stir. The tiger-beast opened his eyes and focused on his leaking cock before letting out a frustrated bellow as he began kicking his feet and thrashing his arms.

“I’m slipping!” Blake yelled almost imminently as he desperately tried to keep his grip on the slick fur. “He’s just too strong!” Bruv said with real worry in his voice as he fought to keep his own position, “We have to think of something, FAST!”

Another roar from the tiger-beast echoed around the gym as he arched his back and lifted his hips to move his cock that was just out of reach. 

From his position, Bruv saw Jake’s action, and from that, a hail mary solution spun through his brain. Between grunts of exertion to maintain his hold, he shouted to Blake, “JACK HIM OFF!” “What!?” “You *errmph* heard me! Remember how exhausted he was looking…. Maybe if we get him to cum again, it- …. it will be enough to knock him out.”

“That’s… crazy,” Blake answered, struggling to keep his grip.

“It's got to be you! I can’t let go or he’ll grab one of us,” Bruv shot back, “Come on, look at that thing, isn’t this like… your dream scenario?”

Seeing no other way out, Blake released his hold and scrambled to his feet while dodging the tiger-beast’s now freed legs. Once he was in the clear, he gazed up at the towering cock swinging erratically as it sprayed another wave of precum right onto the hyena’s face.

He licked his lips and savored the taste as he said, “Here goes nothing.”

Blake leapt onto the tiger-beast’s thrusting hips. Fearful of losing his footing, Blake leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the only thing around. The moment his muscular arms made contact with the huge shaft, the tiger-beast tensed in a moment of stunned surprise as another squirt of precum shot straight up into the air. Jake craned his head forward to better inspect the sudden development and look at Blake with an expression of tentative hopefulness. Seeing that response, Blake leaned into it by physically pressing his torso against it, stepping forward to bring his thighs in as well. Then, for added caution, he turned his head and placed the side of his face against the shaft as well. Once fully pressed against the monstrous cock, he did the only thing that made sense.

He began to rub his arms up and down as he grind his waist against the shaft.

It was a critical hit. The tiger-beast let loose a full-body spasm, sticking out his tongue as he let out a pleasurable purr.  Jake proceeded to lay his head back down as his body relaxed.

“Keep going!” Bruv shouted out, realizing that this might actually work.

Blake gritted his teeth and willed every part of his body to go into overtime. He used every muscle group and exercise trick he knew. He pushed himself not just to redouble his efforts but to maintain that intensity, all while waves of precum cascaded around him.

Yet just as he was about to hit his stride, the tiger-beast’s body began to quake as his body announced the telltale signs of another orgasm.

“I d-don’t know how much I can hold out!” Blake eventually said between pants, as he struggled to both maintain the momentum and his balance, “I’m giving it all that I got.” “Not everything!” Bruv shot back, “If you’re speaking, you’re not giving it your all.” Jake let out another purr, almost in agreement with Bruv’s comment.

Blake peeled his face away and gave the huge slab of glistening meat one more look over. He opened his mouth and leaned back to drag his tongue across the surface. 

It started with a few wide experimental licks, which were met with approving twitches from the tiger-beast and his cock. Running with that feedback, Blake shifted gears and began to make out with it the best that he could.

That little bit was all that was needed as the tiger-beast’s entire body braced itself as he scrunched up his face once more. A second later, his body unloaded. 

Since he was clinging right up next to it, Blake actually felt this one come rocketing through the massive cock before it erupted overhead. 

The cumload was just as voluminous, thick, and forceful as his others as it blasted the gym with another dose of testosterone. Since Jake was wrestled to the floor for this one, the geyser did not reach the ceiling.

Bruv was the only one who had a clear view of the spectacle. He watched as the load of cum sailed up into the air, slowly decreasing its speed as it reached the apex of its arch.

Then there was a moment where the entirety of the tiger-beast’s cum seemed to hang in the air, shining under the gym’s lights, once it reached the apex of its travels before gravity pulled it back towards the ground. The three of them braced as they got showered in a fresh batch of cum. 

Jake then let out an exasperated sigh as exhaustion finally won out, and he passed out right there on the gym floor.

Bruv and Blake held their respective positions, with eyes locked on Jake’s now peaceful face, only moving once the tiger-beast began to snore. Blake made sure to dismount from Jake’s waist as gracefully as possible, as Bruv released his hold on Jake’s arms and let out a series of groans as he eased himself back to his feet.

They met in the middle, right at Jake’s pecs, and began to truly survey the situation they ended up in. 

Next to them was the giant beast with the still massive cock, slumbering in a pool of cum that now covered the majority of the gym’s floor, with cum still dripping from the ceiling. He was probably too big for the two of them to move, and even if they could… then what?

A bit further away was Hal, who announced that he was still with them by groaning between labored breathing as his cum filled stomach continued to pin him down. “What are we going to do?” Blake asked as he was trying to grapple with understanding the full scope of the problems they were facing Bruv was thinking the same thing, but where Blake saw problems. Bruv saw opportunities. The bear began stroking his chin as his eyes roamed over the form of the slumbering tiger-beast, then to the shake bar, down to the discarded pill bottle on the floor, and then to the gym as a whole. As the wheels began to turn in his head, his other hand moved down and began stroking his crotch.

*** Bruv smiled to himself as he looked over the gym.

The place was filled with grunts and metal clanging from the machines as members of all types worked out on them, while plenty more were milling around happily socializing with each other.

The bear let out a contented sigh as he basked in the sight, sounds, and smells of his flourishing. At first, the surge of new members was so great that he was forced to expand the gym’s hours. Even after a few years after that boom, the place was constantly packed.

Bruv lifted his arms overhead to perform a full-body stretch and a not-so-silent restrained groan, allowing his shirt to ride up over his huge belly, which now had a set of thick abs pushing out from underneath, as he stuck his hips out. He then took a self-indulgent sniff of his pits as he made a mental note of the pink poodle twink who turned his head around to catch a glimpse of the display. It did not hurt membership numbers, nor the gym’s image, that the owner was now massive.

After the demonstration of the growth pills, Bruv immediately hopped online and placed a second order. Following the cautionary tale from Jake, the bear practiced restraint and chose to take the recommended dose. As a result, his transformation was less extreme but not any less enjoyable.

It gave Bruv a bit of additional height as well as more muscles than he had back in his glory days. The growth did nothing with all the fat he had collected when he became a business owner. The end result gave Bruv a perfect dad-bod figure with a firm muscle gut.

Bruv decided to sport his new and improved body with a tank top, now sporting his company’s logo, that barely covered his gut. He was also wearing a pair of gym shorts that had his equally enhanced cock and balls unabashedly pressing against the thin fabric. Once he finished his stretch and gave the poodle twink a knowing wink, he made his way over to the crowded shake bar, where Blake was busy responding to the thirsty customers. “How’s the rush treating ya?” Bruv bellowed as he muscled his way to the counter.

“It’s going great, boss,” Blake said in a more grovelly voice, turning away from a pair of the recently installed commercial smoothie machines, with two cups in his huge hands. He then proceeded to hand the frothy and oddly familiar-smelling shakes to two smitten members.

While Bruv followed the recommended amount for his growth, Blake saw Jake’s transformation and viewed it more as a goal to emulate, within moderation.

Along with the muscle growth, Blake’s full body change netted him thicker fur, even broader shoulders, and flushed out limbs and torso to match. He also gained a wider jaw that had two tusks poking up from underneath his lips, which almost gave him the impression of being more gnoll than a hyena. He leaned into his new primitive look by sporting a blue mohawk that ran down the back of his neck.

Blake also grew a couple of feet, which brought him face-to-face with his boss, and just like Bruv, he also had an impressively thick cock, which he shoved into a pair of Speedos. The only other clothing he wore was the form-fitting gym t-shirt that had the phrase, “ask for our protein-blasted shakes!” printed along the chest.

“Still our most popular drink,” Bruv chuckled to himself as he watched the two members share a smile between themselves, then back at Blake, who flashed them a toothy grin before they ran off. “I can hardly keep up with the demand,” Blake said as he went back to juggling orders from the crowd around him.

“It would be nice if I got a little help behind the bar,” the gnollish hyena said in a teasing tone.

“No can do. I got my hands full with all the boring business stuff in my office,” Bruv shot in the same playfully defensive manner. “Oh really?” Blake said, playing along, “Is that what you call strolling around the gym floor every hour or so?”

“That’s called doing ‘quality checks’,” Bruv countered, “I gotta make sure everything is running smoothly out here.”

“And you picking up any cuties that you catch gawking at you and bringing them back to your office would be….~” “I’m just making sure they are enjoying the gym’s experience and that they are a good fit for this place.” “See if they can fit that monster cock of yours, you mean. I hear the bumps and moans coming from your office.” Blake replied. “The perks of being a boss. Besides, don't pretend I don’t know about your extra-long breaks in the bathroom. Someone recently carved a glory hole in the stalls that’s too big for me. That leaves only two other culprits.”

“Three,” Blake corrected him.

“Oh, he hardly counts,” Bruv shot back with a smirk, “Although I have definitely recognized his sweet mouth on the other side a few times I’ve been there.”  “Speaking of, where is the towel boy?” the bear continued, scanning the crowded gym floor, “...Oh, there he is.”

Across the far end of the gym, in a thoroughly drenched uniform, Hal was in the mists of sneaking out of a set of double sliding warehouse doors that had the sign, “Jake’s Lair” painted overhead. The elephant stayed true to his stance of not taking any of those growth pills, but that did not mean he did not undergo changes. After the experience of getting manhandled and ravaged by someone much bigger than him, something was awoken inside the old ‘Top Only’ bodybuilder.

The first thing was when he returned to the gym after he had fully recovered. Hal just maintained his old man macho bravado by doing his full routine and catching up with Bruv and Blake at the shake bar.

Yet every time, he always steered the conversation towards Jake’s status and how ‘the little twerp’ had been adjusting to his new body. And every time he would demand to personally check in on him under the guise of ‘making sure you two hornballs don’t take advantage of him.’

During that time, the temporary solution was to hold the still raging Jake in the cleared-out storage area in the back, which allowed him to be both supervised and to freely unload throughout the day. Blake would check in on Jake throughout the day to keep him company, as well as coming in every morning to hose down the tiger-beast, the floor, walls, and ceiling.

Once Hal got his eyes on the tiger-beast, he would tease and egg him on until Jake would become enraged and scoop him up and have his way with him. The tiger-beast would relentlessly use the elephant’s mouth, trunk, and any other part of the elephant’s body until he eventually passed out, leaving Hal a gasping mess covered with cum and sweat.

Despite the repeated ordeal, Hal never raised any outside alarms. He just kept coming back to the gym to work out, have a shake, and then ask about Jake. The elephant would continue to arrive a bit earlier and to go through the formalities a bit faster, which always ended up giving him more time with the tiger-beast.

Bruv even got the inspiration to use Jake’s excessive cum as a base for a new protein shake when he spied Hal scooping up the tiger-beast’s load from the walls, at the end of a particularly long night, and pouring it into his workout bottle. After talking about it with Blake, the hyena suggested buying a set of smoothie makers to always have them prepared on tap.

The last bit of Hal’s tough guy facade faded when he heard that the second bottle of growth pills was going to be delivered and that Bruv and Blake were going to take their respective doses. The elephant practically begged on his knees to be there to watch.

The night of the change, both the Bruv and Blake saw the excitement and submissive eagerness blossom in Hal’s eyes as they underwent their changes.

That reaction, along with the rush of the sudden growth of their body, resulted in the two of them venting their excitement into Hal by tag teaming the elephant for the entire of the night before throwing him to Jake. From that point forward, Hal cemented himself a cock hungry size king, willing to do anything to get his fix.

Since Bruv and Blake maintained their wits after their transformations, they were able to not only constantly put the elephant through the wringer but also put him in his place within the gym’s new pecking order.

Hal would become the constant target of ‘roughhousing’ and teasing between the two of them. Bruv took extreme joy in flaunting his now bigger than Hal’s cock to the elephant every chance he got. While Blake would ‘threaten’ to withhold visits with Jake until the elephant took multiple loads from both of them.

Hal never once protested.

Through all those extra depraved workouts, Hal was eventually stretched out his ass enough to take all of Jake.

At that point, it only seemed fair for Bruv to ‘offer’ Hal the position of ‘towel boy’ at his gym, if only to keep him nearby and more often. Hal accepted, and after a very intimate onboarding process, he became permanently available for all three of them, as well as a few fellow rhinos and horses, once Bruv let them in on the ‘joke’.

The drastic changes in Hal’s lifestyle were also reflected in his body. Being constantly pulled away to go a few rounds with Blake or Bruv, and his long nightly escapade Jaket, meant the elephant could not maintain the old workout routine that he once prided himself on. 

He ended up losing some of his muscle definition, and with the ‘extra protein’ he kept ingesting, he developed a soft pudge all around his frame. The most noticeable change came from the continuous stretching from supersized cocks and cumloads, resulting in a near-permanently distended stomach that Blake and Bruv affectionately called his ‘cum gut’.

Bruv saw the change and ran with it by pressuring Hal to have his fill at the still weekly company pizza parties. It started with him slipping the elephant a few extra slices onto his plate, but ended up with Bruv just blasting the leftover pies with his load and ordering Hal to polish them off by the end of the night.

Between the lack of a consistent workout routine and the extra pizzas, Hal packed on the pounds. The once bodybuilder physique melted away as Hal and his growing cum gut began to resemble Bruv before the change. 

His new figure was further highlighted with Bruv only providing Hal with a pair of shorts that showed off his fat ass, no underwear underneath, and a company tank top that could never fully cover his stomach, even when empty.

“Hey, towel boy! You’re not stealing our product, are you?” Bruv shouted across the crowded gym, pulling the attention of multiple members in the process.

Hal whipped his head over and flapped his ears in embarrassment, mumbling out an excuse, as the bear barked out a hearty laugh. The elephant then hurried away, walking a bit gingerly than usual. Bruv then turned his attention back to Blake and said, “Why not take a break and grab a refill for the shake machines?”

“On it, boss!”

Blake logged out of the cashier machine and retrieved the empty shake containers, placing them on the counter before hopping over. He landed on the other side with a commanding ‘Thud!’ that got everyone’s attention of those nearby and ripped out across the gym as the others began to put down their weights.

The huge hyena then hoisted each container onto his massive shoulders before turning back to address Bruv.

“Your cock’s poking out of your shorts’ leg,” he commented nonchalantly.

“I know.”

Blake then marched over towards the doors that Hal had just left. As he did, the members parted to let the gnollish hyena through, before shuffling back to get a good view.

Once he got there, Blake placed the vats down before dramatically pushing aside the double doors. A wave of stale cum crashed upon the crowd as the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym spilled into the darkened room. Within the room, massive limbs stirred as a deep growl answered.

Blake reached over to the inside side wall and flicked a switch to reveal the beast of glistening muscles and a dipping hyper cock.

Despite the changes of Blake, Bruv, and Hal, Jake remained the same. Despite the combined efforts of Blake, Bruv, and Hal, they could never find clothes that could fit him or help him get back his old life. While Jake was able to learn to get a better handle on himself, he was still susceptible to the hair-trigger primal urges. So Jake remained naked and made the gym his new home.

After a few weeks of living there, Blake was able to convince Bruv to renovate Jake’s room to give the tiger-beast more space, wider doors, as well as easier-to-clean ceilings and walls, and install a shower drain in the floor.

Over the years, he also grew comfortable with being gawked at and grew into being a regular exhibitionist, feeding off the crowd’s admiration as he paraded the full extent of what his body could do. 

The tiger-beast, leaning against the far wall, blinked in the lights and focused his eyes as he looked down at who had just walked in. A toothy smile spread across his face as he pulled his hand over to his recently spent dick and flopped it around as he let out a rumbling chuckle.

As a part of the renovations, as well as safety against particularly powerful urges, Jake had his legs and arms restrained with heavy-duty ropes anchored to various weight-lifting machines.

“I know, buddy,” Blake said with a playful tone, “The big elephant bottom just drained you.”

“Thankfully for you, and the rest of our eager members,” he continued, throwing a glance to the gathering crowd behind him, “I am more than enough equipment to work another load out of you.~”

The gnollish-hyena then righted himself and placed his big hands on his pecs and slowly brought them down to his waist to pull down his speedo in such a way so his semi-erect cock would flop around once freed.

The tiger-beast’s eyes stayed locked on the huge cock and purred with excitement as he spread his legs and lifted his hips to present his asshole to Blake.

Blake smiled and approached as he began stroking his cock as the crowd clambered up to and passed the advertised “Splash zone” safety line a few feet away from the double doors. He then put on a show of foreplay for the amusement of all parties involved, and soon the crowd began to gasp in amazement as the hyena got the tiger-beast’s cock to get erect and leaking with precum in record time.

Bruv stayed in the back, already tall enough to have a good view of the event that he had seen countless times. That did not stop him from getting caught up in the general excitement.

The bear casually reached down and began stroking himself through his gym shorts just as Blake primed himself to penetrate Jake. Bruv scanned the crowd around him.

Everyone had their eyes locked on the show in front of them, all except for the pink poodle twink that he had noticed earlier. He kept stroking, as he continued looking at him, waiting for the poodle to realize that he was ‘caught’. The moment the poodle looked up and made eye contact, his face became bright red. Seizing the opportunity, Bruv strolled over and placed his free arm around the embarrassed twink. Using his size and momentum, he spun the pup around and got him to start walking towards his office. 

He then leaned down and, in a stage whisper, said, “Let me tell you about our premium package membership plan."

***

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[redinthefaceandcheeks]

The Path Not Taken

The doorknob to the apartment rattled for a moment before the key turned and the rest of the door swung open. Tony stepped in, struggling to hold on to his briefcase and a stack of letters in one hand and his keys and a small brown package in the other. 

He hurried in and placed his briefcase down at the front door before moving over to the living room to crash onto his leather easy chair. Tony let out a deep sigh, undid his tie, and allowed himself a moment of peace before he fished his phone out of his pocket. He rubbed his eyes before directing his gaze down to the small screen and began swiping through the work emails and project reports that had followed him since he left the office. Once he was done replying to all of them, he let out another deep sigh and let his eyes wander over his city apartment before he opened his physical mail. It was not that he was ungrateful with his life; being able to be a professional soccer player was a huge blessing. Sure, he struggled right out of college, having to cut his teeth to get picked up by a team, but it paid off. He was by no means unsuccessful. During his time, he was both good and popular enough to warrant his agent hiring a social media consultant to shape his online image, which resulted in a few not unwelcome brand deals that helped him fill out his bank account.

After his time with the league came to an end, life still expected him to get a job and continue on. The sad truth is that ex-soccer players, and soccer players in general, were not as popular as the average football professionals. There was no way for Tony to just coast on his legacy.

Thankfully, Tony was smart enough to keep a hefty amount of his professional soccer earnings squirreled away to get a master’s degree in business. He then used his experience, face, and social media presence to secure a project manager position at an international advertising firm. Thankfully, his company had an in-office gym, which allowed him to maintain his figure, and he was paid enough to afford all the small and medium luxuries while living in the heart of the city.

Yet, regardless of the sport, one of the problems of being a professional athlete is that all the friends you made were also athletes. Once either one of you leaves the scene, it is difficult to stay in touch. Office friendships were just as complicated since everyone eventually talked only about work, and unlike soccer with its off-seasons, the work projects never stopped.

“It was so much easier to make friends in college,” Tony muttered to himself as he opened, read, and then discarded the last of the junk mail letters before he turned towards the small package that he was purposefully saving for last.

It was a small cube, wrapped in brown paper, tied with white string, and thoroughly stamped by the post office. It was completely ordinary in appearance, which made it stand out among the deluge of junk mail he normally got.

It was addressed to him, and as if the universe was reading his mind, Tony saw that on the return label, it was sent by one of his old college friends, Brutus. 

“I talked to Brutus in ages. I wonder what’s the occasion,” Tony remarked as he began to tear apart the wrapping. 

Inside was a wooden box on a hinge on the lid that opened to reveal a velvet-lined interior, holding a brass ring within the cushioned insert.

Wedged inside the top half of the box was a folded piece of paper, which revealed a small handwritten note that simply said, “Thanks for always sticking up for me in the computer lab, I hope you can enjoy this too.”

Confusion dashed across Tony’s face as he read and reread the letter. Tony remembered Brutus as the college’s premier star quarterback, and he carried on to become one of the most famous modern day pro football players. He was not only able to make a name for himself on and off the field, but was also able to gracefully move on into an early retirement. Tony absentmindedly pulled out the brass ring with his right hand as he reexamined the simple note again with his left hand. He never recalled any instances where Brutus was in the computer lab or a time where he needed to stand up for Brutus for, well… anything.

He was almost convinced that this was meant to be delivered to some other Tony, by some other Brutus, if it was not for the fact that the package was not only addressed to him by first and last name, but it had his apartment number as well. Once Tony concluded that there were no more possible clues to be gained from the note or package label, he shifted his attention to the ring, which was now slipped onto the middle segment of his right index finger. It was a simple brass band, old and tarnished, with no gemstones or even sockets where they could or once be. The only noticeable feature was the engraved flowing patterns. They ran around the length of the band, looking like swirling streams of water in a river or sand blown by the wind in the desert. Tony continued to examine it further as his thumb moved to run over the grooved lines. Right after the second thumb rub, the brass ring began to rumble as green and purple smoke began to billow out from underneath the ring, spewing out from both sides of his finger. Pure instincts kicked in as Tony extended his arm away, he turning his torso away, and covered his mouth and nose with his left hand. He involuntarily began coughing as the smoke continued to cloud around him in his chair. A few seconds later, he felt the ring’s rumbling die down, and only a moment after that did Tony steal a look back at his outstretched arm. His arm, hand, and fingers had no trace of injury or even discoloration from the dye of the smoke. The area around the easy chair was now filled with a light haze of purple and green that was in the mists of dispersing. Most drastic development was the addition of the figure standing tall right next to him. It was a man, he was tall at six and a half feet, and was standing in the densest part of the lingering smoke. He had a muscular slim build, with slick back black hair and a goatee. While the sudden appearance of an intruder would have been the most strange thing about him, Tony’s brain informed him that it was practically mundane compared to the rest of him. The first thing that stood out was that he was green. From his head to his arms and all the way down to his legs, his skin was a brilliant emerald green. It had the type of hue that could not be achieved by body paint or a makeup kit. The stranger was wearing an open purple vest with matching pants, all with gold trim. Yet the most peculiar thing about the stranger was the way that he stood within the smoke cloud. While Tony’s eyes stated that his core body and his jewelry were solid by the way his apartment’s lights bounced off of them, the edges of his body seemed to blur against the smoke and the bottom half of his legs completely dissipated into the smoke cloud itself.

The stranger had his arms crossed over his chest, with gold bracers adorning his wrists, and looked down at Tony expectantly.

Tony just stared on in stunned silence. 

Tony composed himself and was just about to form a sentence before being immediately cut off. “I am the great Sha Kewmi, genie of the ring!” The stranger proclaimed in a loud booming voice, “You may receive three wishes.” There was another pause before Tony was able to recomprise himself and replied with a still bewildered, “Wha-?” That response caused the genie to break his stoic composure with a wide grin as he uncrossed his arms and shifted into a more relaxed state. “What, Cait-sith got your tongue? Never heard of genies before?” Sha Kewmi said in a playful manner as he dropped the booming effect in his voice.

“Magic genie of the ring, or lamp. Rubbing it gives the owner three wishes…. What? Have your parents never read you a bedtime story and gone through your entire life without watching any TV? C’mon, we're kinda a global brand at this point.”

Tony just remained dumbfounded until his brain was able to scrounge up enough common sense to form his first question.

“Wait, you guys are actually real!?” “In the smoke,” Sha Kewmi, without missing a beat, “and you, good sir, get three no strings attached wishes.”

“No strings attached,” Tony repeated back as his mind took all of this information and desperately tried constructing a new train of thought. “Yup! No limits, no loopholes, no monkey paw trickery,” The genie said as he reached into the smoke around him and pulled out a can of soda, “Just three honest to goodness wishes for your personal use,” He added as he cracked the can open before taking a sip out of it.

“You can wish for love, fame, money, literally anything your human mind can think of, with a snap of my fingers,” he continued as he pantomimed the motion with his free hand, “Anything from past, present, or future… It’s no sweat to me.” That last bit snagged Tony’s attention as he began to think about what that could mean as his eyes drifted back to the ring, still around his finger. He had pretty much everything he needed. He had his taste of success, he currently has a comfy and high paying job, and he was even able to stay in shape after his soccer years. Sure, he could wish for a new car, or a million dollars, even a billion dollars, but those seemed like a cop out considering the scale and scope of the potential offered to him.

Tony looked at the engraved, flowing patterns of the ring as he pondered what in his life he would actually change. Sha Kewmi just stood there, looking on as Tony carried on with his reflections. Tony’s mind then drifted all the way back to his undergrad years in college and felt an old pang of regret. There was James. Time almost buried James within his memory, but it was hard to forget your first crush. James was in the same year as him, and shared a few classes with him. 

Even from the few interactions that Tony had, James always radiated confidence and had the type of humor and popularity that only a theater kid could harness. He was heavily involved in the theater club and secured every major role. He was outgoing, popular, and cute.

Between Tony’s and Jame’s different majors, friend groups, and extracurricular obligations, there was never an opportunity to create that friendship naturally. Well, expect that one time.

It was back when Tony and James were at the same college party in junior year. There was one moment where James was just chilling in the back of the party, while his friends peeled away to do something. Tony was just drunk enough to approach him with the hopes of asking him out, but his own insecurities overpowered him, and he bailed. And that was the end of that. A small part of Tony’s mind dared to whisper, ‘What if I was actually able to talk to him?’ He then pulled his eyes off the ring and brought his attention back to the genie, “When you say, ‘past, present, or future’...” Sha Kewmi, already picking up on where Tony was going, cut in, “Yup! I can change a past mistake or ensure that something will happen in the future. It’s all a part of the magic, baby!” 

The genie then leaned in and said, “So what part of your life were you thinking about?” “Well, there was this guy…” Tony said with a touch of forlornness in his voice. “Ah, say no more!” the genie said, knowing where this conversation was going, “Just say the magic words and I can make it so that you did not miss that connection and you could see how it would all change.” That confirmation was enough to fan the spark of potential into a flame of intrigue. ‘I really could see what it would have been like if I was brave enough to ask him out back then,’ Tony thought to himself.

The premise alone was almost good enough for him to blurt it out right there and then. Yet the logical, and more worrisome, side of him interjected with all the cautionary tales of both wishes and time travel from books, movies, and TV shows.

Sure, his life was lonely, but it was not bad. He had his time in the league and got his master’s degree because of it, and that all happened after blowing his chance with James. He then looked back at Sha Kewmi and asked, “What if…” 

“What if that life isn’t what you imagined? Yeah, that happens. You can always pull a safety cord and completely undo any wish, and the aftermath it causes at the cost of another wish. I recommended saving it for the last one. It’s not ideal, but there are plenty of people content with just popping over into a new life just to see what it would really be like before going back to ‘normal’. It helps with the romanticized longing nostalgia~.” That extra bit of explanation was enough to reassure Tony to take the plunge. His eyes drifted down to the ring once more as Tony took a deep breath and said, “I wish to see what life would be like if I were able to ask James out at that party… Just a little bit,” he added as a hesitant reflex. “As You Wish!” Sha Kewmi said with that mystic vocal sound effect as he snapped his fingers.

The smoke around the genie began to thicken and grow as it rolled over the two of them and filled the room. Tony noticed that this time the smoke provided no sensation as it brushed up against his skin. The purple and green smoke was then picked up by an unfelt wind and began to swirl, whipping it up into a silent spectral maelstrom. As the smoke began to gain speed, tiny magical sparks began to flash within the smoke.

While amazing in its own right, as Tony was observing the smokestorm, he noticed that the physical things around him began to shimmer and change.

The first thing that he noticed was that as the smoke and sparks danced around him, he saw the long sleeve of his work shirt begin to shift. It still stayed as a long-sleeve button-down, but almost every other characteristic about it was being slowly altered. The shirt went from a thin, expensive, plain white cotton fabric, and began to thicken into flannel as red and blue criss-cross patterns began to fade in. The entire process was both smooth and natural, like watching sped-up footage of the sky going from night into day. As Tony’s eyes went from his sleeved arm over to his torso, he was able to see that it was not just his shirt that was changing. From his seated position, he could see that his tie was in the possession of what words could only describe as ‘melting’ into the rippling fabric of his developing flannel shirt. From below his belt, he saw the grey work pants of his business pants begin to morph until they became a pair of plain tan khakis.

Tony’s eyes could already tell, but his skin confirmed that the quality of the material of his clothes, from shirt, undershirt, pants, socks, even the easy chair he was sitting in, dropped from designer brand to just store bought.

Yet despite all that, the real marvel was happening just underneath the shifting folds of his clothes. 

He saw it first on his hands but felt it all over his body. The well-worn and earned scars and marks that were acquired from decades of living eased themselves away as the smoke and sparks danced around his hand. From within himself, Tony felt all the wear and tear he received from playing professional soccer begin to fade from his body. While he did not see it, Tony also felt the tiny features of his face begin to change, becoming just ever so more taunt. It took a second of being dumbfounded for Tony to recognize that his body was getting healed, but not all the way recovered. No, not healed, he realized, he was reverting back to the youthful form he had right out of college. Just as his breath quickened as his mind began to race with the excitement of being young again, his body underwent an additional change.

As Tony watched his chest move up and down with his breathing, he witnessed that his body was expanding. 

It was small and subtle, but with every exhale, Tony noticed that his torso extended out just a tiny bit more than last time. He saw spare ounces bud across his body and came together to be a couple of pounds, and then formed an extra dozen or so. It was not just his torso, from all around, he felt his body soften. Once the smoke and sparks faded away, he was left with the comfortably slightly chubby body of the office worker that he is. 

‘Wait… that couldn’t be right,’ Tony thought to himself as he caught that last observation. 

He snapped out of his dazed wonder and whipped his head back up towards Sha Kewmi, only to be greeted by a totally different room. Not just the room, but a completely new living space. 

Gone was his pricey, city apartment flat that held all of his various soccer memorabilia. Now Tony was sitting in the middle of a much smaller apartment. From the looks of it, the place was decorated with about half of the things that Tony could recognize as his from his college years. The other half looked strangely familiar, yet he could not put his finger on it.

He saw the old TV that he had when he was in college, now resting on a new wooden case. On the wall half of the framed posters were from Tony’s favorite sports teams, while the other half were framed posters of show tunes, movies, and photographed cityscapes. Standing next to him was Sha Kewmi, still in the same place he stood before, looking down at Tony. “Tah dah!” 

Tony was about to demand what had just happened but the moment he thought about it, the memories came flooding back to him. Not his memories but new ones. He remembered all the way back to that fateful night. He was just as intoxicated and nervous as before, but this time, he swallowed his hesitation and decided to just go and initiate a conversation with James. While Tony was as nervous as ever, James was flirty and playful, and they just clicked. James introduced Tony to his fellow theater friends as the night concluded with James slipping Tony his phone number to continue their ‘fun talk’. After a few more weeks of chatting and a couple of weekend dates, they officially became a couple. From there, Tony and James were inseparable. They would each make sure to find time to meet up between their busy schedules, whether that was having meals together in the college food court or studying together for finals. James would attend and cheer on the team for Tony’s college soccer games, and Tony would sit and watch all of James’s shows. They kept the relationship going throughout the rest of the school year, over summer vacation, and into their senior year. Between the two of them, James always was the bolder one, with his ear to the pulse of social events around campus, he would always teasingly drag Tony to new events and the theater crew’s impressive rowdy after parties. They ended strong in their senior year with both graduating with high marks, higher marks than Tony remembered before. They both agreed to move in together after graduation, and that meant getting jobs right away.

Instead of struggling for months trying to get drafted by the league, Tony instead opted to give up that prospect in order to live with James. Thankfully, with the support between the two of them, both were able to secure good paying jobs that aligned within both their majors and interests while not being soul crushingly horrible. Tony was able to get a job at a respectable sports equipment distributor, managing the delivery orders of several minor league, college, and public school systems. James, on the other hand, got an entry level job in production at the local TV station in the next city over.

With that, the two of them stayed together for the next five years, living together while slowly working up the corporate ladders of their respective careers.

While Tony’s career was not as exciting as a professional soccer player, it did provided him with enough money to pool with James to get a modest apartment together while still comfortably supporting themselves. Despite the changes in life, they still maintained the couple’s tradition of going out to dinner about once a week for a ‘date night’.

All those major developments and the millions of minute details of this new life crashed against Tony, flowing into his brain. Those memories settled in and sat in the same mental space as his old memories, both crowding and overlapping each other. The confusion and mental effort of sorting through what was real and what was now played across Tony’s face as Sha Kewmi looked on with satisfied amusement. “Remembering a particular set of memories from a separate life can be quite a rush for mortals. I must say.. Not too bad of a place,” the genie continued on as he gave a scan of the room, “it’s a fun mondern approach to interior decoration… very ‘jock meets theater kid’. Not my style, but power to you for making it work, especially right out of college.”

Sha Kewmi then turned back to Tony, “But, what do you think of this life?” “I.. I don’t,” Tony stumbled out as he was still sorting through his memories as he cased his eyes around the room before looking down at himself again.

This life was certainly less glamorous than his old one, with considerably less money, and back to just having his bachelor's degree, but it was more fulfilling in other ways. In this life, he had a boyfriend, and even after college, James continued to make sure to take him out to various events and parties with friends. 

Tony could view his new life’s outlook as well as recall the much more extensive memories of his life after this point, with his remaining time in the league, grad school, and his ‘old’ job. While his second half of school and the years right out of college were a confusing mess of double exposed memories, Tony could still clearly recall more his past personal life. He still had all the knowledge gained by going back to his master’s degree and the experience he got as he went into advertising, even the details of major international ad campaigns that he was spearheading… will spearhead? It was still a toss-up on which life was better, he had way more money and resources at his disposal in his old life. He could still go back and use those resources to track down James and try to rekindle that relationship. That was, if he was still single in that timeline. As Tony thought about that, some other part of his brain was trying to alert him to a couple of more irregularities that did not add up. The first nagging fact was brought to the forefront of his mind.

Tony turned back to the genie and asked. “Hey, why am I still in the past? I did not ask for that.”

Sha Kewmi’s eyes shone, as if he were waiting for him to recognize that detail.

“Look at you picking up on that all by yourself~, I did grant your wish right down to the letter. You wanted to see what life would be like if you asked James out, ‘just a little bit’ and I delivered. Granted, my interpretation means that you get to see all the changes that happened just a few years out from that faithful day. But it seems like only the years have been the only thing that has been changed ‘just a little bit’,” the genie added on as he nondiscreetly glanced down at Tony’s torso.

Tony followed the cue and brought his eyes back down to the paunch on his stomach. It was the most noticeable change between his own and the current reality’s version, made more obvious as he sat back in his easy chair. He absentmindedly moved his right hand over and placed it on his new, undeniable tummy to get a better grasp of the results of all living this way.

As he felt the newly formed stomach, he saw his fingers, as if by going on muscle memory, grabbed it and give it a small shake. Saw his hand jostle the pudge, and he felt his dick spasm underneath.

That small action and response cracked open the floodgate of the other major thing that he ‘remembered’ differently in this timeline.

Tony spent nearly his entire school life motivated by the grand desire to build the perfect body for soccer. But now that he finally did not have to maintain his figure, either for work nor for first impressions on dates, he could relax and enjoy life with knowledge that he had someone who loved him for him. After graduation, the office job, and the move Tony’s life just got too busy to keep up with his old exercise routine. It was also difficult to find the time or motivation to get around to finding a new gym, especially when there was no team or coach to keep him to a schedule. Even though Tony’s exercise fell by the wayside, his and Jame’s date nights remained constant. With the new apartment, there were so many new restaurants to explore, and all those meals began to make themselves known on Tony. 

He could not recall exactly when it took place, but somewhere along the way, Tony grew to like the extra weight and how it looked on him. He would catch himself in the mirror as he stepped out of the shower, and that evolved into posing and sticking out his stomach while imagnining what he would look like if there was more.

Despite his taboo enjoyment, Tony still conflicted about it both with his body image and with how James would react to it. 

He then ‘remembered’ that just last night in this timeline, after their normal weekly date night. It was only once they were cuddling in bed together that Tony built up the courage to confess to James about this fact about himself.

Much to his relief, James accepted that part of him fully. Apparently, with James’s involvement with various theater groups, he had some knowledgeable of these  odder types of desires. He even provided a name for that certain desire  along with fielding some personal questions to Tony. The two of them spent the rest of the night in a loving embrace, with James as the big spoon as he made a point to rub Tony’s full tummy before moving down to play with his erect cock. As they drifted off to sleep, James whispered into Tony’s ear that he would be sure to stop by the grocery store before coming home tomorrow. 

Throughout the next day, James kept teasing Tony with texts about the ‘special surprise’ he was preparing. That was where Tony was now, he had just gotten out of work and was just waiting for James to come back with whatever he had in store.

Despite the muddled memories, Tony could not recall if he ever had a ‘gainer’ kink before. Granted, there was also no real chance to experience it in his old life and there was no denying that he had one now. Just remembering all of those most recent events caused Tony’s heart to race and his dick to strain against his work pants. Sha Kewmi remained silent, just watching as Tony clearly began to enjoy his self-discovery. The genie waited a bit longer and before asking, “What do you want your next wish to be?” That question caused Tony to pull his attention back to the true matter at hand, and he immediately became torn in the process. Was this the life he was excited for now? And would he really want to go back to his old life? He could use his second wish to return to normal and then use his last wish to get anything he wanted. If he wished smartly, he could even be set for life. He even use his money and resources to track down James and try to connect in that timeline, if he was still single. Yet, even if he was, Tony would not be able to recreate all of these moment that they had here.

He could still go back to school in this timeline, earn that masters degree, and try to get the salary that he had before. But that came about from a different set of events that he was unsure if he could reproduce now.

On top of all that, there was also this sexual awakening that he just admitted to in this life. As excited as he was about it, there was equal parts hesitation about whether he really wanted to commit to experimenting with that lifestyle after tonight.

There was still not much that he did not know about this whole situation. It felt like he was teetering on the edge of the cliff of the unknown. Tony then looked back at the brass ring, still on his index finger. Then an idea emerged from the deepest corner of his mind and pranced out in front of him. He could use his second wish to go further down this life, and if he did not like it, he could use his last wish as a sort of ripcord to go back to his old life. He could then ultizie the knowledge he gained, along with his wealth, to make those changes in other ways. Tony shifted in his seat, becoming acutely aware of the erection he now had as he licked his lip. Then he pushed the words out of his head, through his mouth and committed to it.

“I think… no, I wish to see more of this life,” he said while not lifting his eyes up to meet the genie’s expectant gaze. Sha Kewmi took in a sharp, excited inhale as he crossed his arms back over his chest. With a wide smile, he bellowed, “As You Wish” before performing a single quick nod with his head. Just like before, purple and green smoke began to emerge from the genie as it started to swirl and spark around the room. This time around, Tony was prepared. He darted his eyes away from the ring and brought them straight down as he moved his hands to hover over the sides of his pudgy stomach, poised to catch any changes the moment they happened.

There was no going back now.

The magic wasted no time working its magic. Tony felt the years descend upon him as he saw his stomach begin to shfit once more.

The pudge on Tony’s belly began to ripple and wobble slightly as a few pounds started to grow underneath this clothes at a slow and steady rate, pushing it to become and actual gut. It looked like a balloon as it expanded outwards in all directions.

Seeing that development unfold, Tony caught himself widening his legs against the easy chair. In either in response or preparation, the easy chair transformed as well, widening the seat to accommodate all of the more of him. His gut continued its rate of growth before pausing for a moment. There was a small internal ‘click’ before his body exploded outwards in a tsunami of lard. Pounds upon pounds blossomed Tony’s gut, as his shirt became pulled taut against the avalanche of mass, just at the point of popping one of his buttons.

‘F-Fuck!’ Tony uttered, half astonishment, half excitement as he felt pride begin to swell up inside as he continued to watch the transformation continue.

The rapid accelerated growth was not just limited to his stomach, as from the edge of his vision, Tony saw his arms and legs getting thicker as additional flab began to get piled on, completely engulfing the muscles that he was able to maintain in this life. He even felt the growth that hold on his face, as the fat began to fill out his chin before it spilled down his neck.

Tony felt the weight of all those dozens and dozens of new pounds begin to impose themselves onto him, pushing him down against the cushion of the easy chair seat while his excited breathing shifted to become deeper, bordering on labored. Next up was the clothes, Tony’s stretched out button down morphed into a more fitting triple extra large tank top that did its job of covering the newly growing frame. That accomplishment was short lived as Tony watched his gut continued to expand outward, rapidly graduating from big, to huge, to absolutely massive as it pushed out from under his now tank top. It was not just his stomach, demanding more space from the shirt, his chest formed a set of moobs that psuhed agaisnt the top half of the tanktop and with the sides starting to spill out through the arm holes, competing for space with his swelling biceps.

From below his waist, he felt his khaki pants shorten before transforming into a pair of baggy basketball shorts that then became rather tight on him as his widening thighs filled it out. At his groin, Tony felt his raging erection become smooshed between his expanding legs as his gut rolled overhead, burying it completely.

It seemed that the magic decided to keep his shirt the same because the tank top remained the same size, with the only things being added was the wear and tear as it got stretched out, along with the stains it accumulated over the years of constant use. Tony watched on in amazement as his growing body eventually forced the tank top to retreat up his gut to create something like a crop top as his ever deepening belly button headed the charge down the top of his thighs.

The volume of his gut was not the only thing that changed. Along with the stretch marks that made themselves known across the exposed belly band, Tony saw six letters, divided into a stack of two three letter words, begin to form on the most prominent area of his gut in big, bold lettering. The letters faded in one at a time, starting out with the outline of each being traced out before going back to be filled in the same black ink.  The whole thing came together to spell out the words “FAT HOG” with the “O” being placed right on top of his belly button. A rush of unknown fear, excitement, and accomplishment overcame Tony as he just watched the letters set onto his skin, then begin to fade and stretch out as time and even more pounds rolled underneath it. The gut, and the rest of his body’s growth soon plateaued out and settled in place as the magic smoke and sparks began to fade away, also revealing a totally different room, a house this time.

“Holy Fuck!” Tony gasped as he gingerly laid his hands down on the massive gut, verifying that was really real and actually his, “What happened?” He hardly had to put any effort into recalling this time around. How could he forget? This was a core part of Tony’s life, the thing that everything had been building up to. It all started with that night, all those years ago, on the day after Tony confessed that he liked the idea of his growing body. James came home late that night, carrying in grocery bags filled with chips, ice cream, soda, and frozen junk food. He also stopped by to pick up a large pizza. Tony remembered how his mouth dropped open when he saw James struggling to get all the food through the front door of their apartment and when he began laying it all out in front of him. The night was filled with awkward and embarrassing, yet earnest, fun as both of them stumbled through this kink together. James chose what and how to feed Tony, and Tony practiced becoming comfortable with purposefully finding enjoyment from the indulgence and attention. After that, James continued to be incredibly supportive of Tony’s new kink by finding more ‘excuses’ to have more date night dinners and always bringing Tony’s attention to the appetizers and dessert sections of the menus. In their apartment, James would ‘accidentally’ give Tony a bigger serving of dinner when he fixed their plates and he always had Tony’s favroite ice cream in the freezer. He also kept giving compliments to the ‘cute little’ budding tummy whenever Tony was shirtless.

Through that, it allowed  both of them to break down their own hidden barriers and find new ways to be intimate and express themselves.

Through this collaborative exploration of Tony’s gaining side, James found that he had a streak of domination inside of him, which he attributed to his experience in theater and his work contributing to running production projects at his job. James used that streak to become push the envelope of what could be done with Tony’s eating, which involved bringing food into the bedroom, a move that Tony very much approved of.

With all those different factors at play, Tonny began to pack on the pounds and grew to love every aspect of the change. James, being a good boyfriend, used his connections to continue to search for more resources online which led him to discover a monthly gainer meet-up. With his help, Tony built up the confidence and body to go to the next one.

The meet-up was two towns away and held at an all-you-can-eat buffet, with the group consisting of a small yet equal number of avid gainers and feeders. While Tony felt underdressed when he compared himself to some of the other gainers, James was there to strike up enough normal and kink-related small talk to keep them both engaged with the others, all while playfully sliding portions off his plate onto Tony’s. It was at the next meet-up that they met him. The moment Tony and James laid eyes on him, they both recognized that he was an absolute dom. He wore a plain shirt and a leather vest that highlighted both his gym-toned body and broad shoulders, topped off a leather biker cap on his head.

Yet the most impressive thing that he wore was his confidence. The moment he saw James and Tony join the group, he immediately stood to introduce himself, and made arrangements to have them sit on either sides of him at the head of the table.  

His name was Bruce, he was a dietitian researcher for a well-known nutrition company, and was apparently both a founding member and driving forces behind this local meet-up. He explaind that the reason that was absent from the last meet-up was that he was out of state for an work conference. He also went on the state that one of his meet-up ‘traditions’ was to personally feed first-timers, as a way to both break the ice and break them in.

There were no objections from either Tony or James.

With that, Bruce ordered Tony to stay in his seat as he invited James to join him at the buffet. A few minutes later, both returned carrying a plate in each hand, all piled high with Tony’s favorite foods.

From there, Bruce juggled his attention between the two of them. He would use his expertise to find and verbally push all of Tony’s buttons, while discussing the different perspectives and approaches to domination with James as well as the dietary needs for gaining. Bruce showed off his tricks and tips for dominating while demonstrating their effectiveness on Tony, as James eagerly took notes. Bruce would overtly whisper promises of a new life as a pig into Tony’s ear to stroke up his arousal before moving on to rubbing his stomach. When it looked like Tony was about to hit a wall, Bruce declared that it was time for him to move on to the dessert phase and began stroking his dick through his pants to keep Tony motivated to keep going. It all came to a head when Bruce brought Tony to orgasm, in front of the whole meet-up, right as as he was spoonfed the last bite of the deluxe banana split that Bruce and James created just for him.

The experience was so intense and all-encompassing that Tony slipped right into a food and post orgasm haze. He was so stuffed and satified, that both Bruce and James had to help help out of his seat and walk him back to the car. As Tony was eased into the passenger seat, Bruce made a point to hand his number to James in case either one of them wanted to ‘reconnect’ before the next meet-up.

It was the first time either of them had shared with someone else before, and while it was scary and new, the question was not if they should contact him, but when. James took the charge and reached out to invite Bruce over for another more in-depth demonstration of feeding and domination the following weekend. For the rest of the week, James stayed in constant communication with Bruce, for both general updates and to brainstorm ideas for the upcoming date, while making sure not to give Tony any major specifics. The Friday before the meet, James stepped out and returned a few hours later with a massive haul of food, which he teased by telling Tony that it was all off limits until Bruce came over. Bruce arrived at the apartment in the late morning, in an outfit that was not too unfamiliar to what he wore at the meet-up. This time he brought along a bulging duffel bag, which is affectionately referred to as his ‘alternative exercise equipment’. He flopped the duffel bag onto the living room coffee table and pulled the zipper open to proudly reveal his various tools and toys. 

James brought some of the food from the kitchen as Bruce began to unpack and show off everything he had, including a funnel with a tube at the end that caught Tony’s eye immediately.

With everyone back in the same room, the three of them quickly discussed and decided upon the ground rules. Then Bruce sat Tony down on the sofa and stated exactly what he and James were going to do with him. Tony eagerly nodded in agreement at every proposal.

Since this was at their apartment, Bruce had the privacy and freedom to really flex his domming muscles. The first thing he did was to get out of his clothes. As he fished out his harness from the bag, he implored James to join him in the buff while ordering Tony to get naked. The rest of the Saturday dissolved into a whirlwind of food-induced depravity as Bruce took full control of the scenes. It alternated between stuffing Tony with different foods and allowing both to experiment with the various toys. Bruce threw everything at them and ran with what stuck. As Bruce introduced them to all the various toys in the arsenal, he also introduced them to different terminologies, power dynamics, and role-play scenarios. He coached James on what to say, what toys would be best appropriate in what scenario, as well as how to incorporate rubbing Tony’s gut and cock to keep eating. Between the expert guidance and the toy available, both Tony and James smashed through so many ‘firsts’ in their sex lives, as well as identifying more kinks and dynamics to explore in the future. All of that led up to the personal highlight for Tony, with a late-night funnel feeding of melted ice cream and then getting praise from both of them as they gave him a joint belly rub for a job well done. As Tony fell into his well-earned food coma, James and Bruce continued their talks about future prospects. Tony slept on the living room sofa, and Bruce stayed the night. The next morning began bright and early with James in the kitchen whipping up a mountain of pancakes and bacon for the three of them as they scheduled the next available time they could do this again. Bruce only left once James could demonstrate how well he could feed Tony all by himself. 

Bruce soon became a regular guest at their place, and that was where Tony’s life veered off the rails of normality and became permanently changed. Each time Bruce could come over, he carried the same intensity as the first time, while always demanding more from the two of them. Whether that be inspiring them to explore different power dynamics and kinks, or in Tony’s case, just demanding that he eats more. Bruce always made sure to have rotating collection of different toys for them all to experiment with. By the fourth visit, he brought over a tub of whey powder that his company produces, and with his knowledge as a nutritionist, Bruce introduced the two of them to the wonders of ultra high-calorie weight gain shakes.

Tony was well practiced in all forms of depravity, from practicing his chugging skills to how to properly address James and Bruce. Tony would be routinely tasked to push his stomach to the limit with whatever food and shakes were in front of him, then going a bit more beyond that, and always thanking the two of them for the pleasure. Through careful measurements, Bruce was able to show the progress of how much more Tony was able to pack into that gut of his with each visit. With all that intensity and constant exploration of kink during each visit, that depravity slowly began to seep into the other areas of Jame’s and Tony’s lives. James became more assertive while Tony fell deeper into the submissive mindset.

James would be more demanding of what Tony would eat, even going so far to order huge takeout meals to be delivered to Tony’s office, as well as creating his own food challenges for Tony to complete. All the while, James kept in constant contact with Bruce, giving updates on Tony’s progress while receiving additional pointers and a heads up on other local events. Through their continued talks, it was James who decided to pick up a membership at the same 24-hour gym that Bruce goes to. Soon it became the norm for James to whip up a mountain-sized dinner and a few desserts for Tony, bring it all over to him as he sat on the sofa, turn on the TV, and let him go at it as he stepped away to work out with Bruce.

With James continued trips to the gym with Bruce, he also began to transform, becoming leaner while growing muscles. That new body led him to become even more confident, enough to apply for and ultimately get the position of producer at his company. The night he got the promotion, he celebrated by finally purchasing a leather outfit for himself.

Tony kept doing good work at his office job, climbing up the ranks to be a senior sports equipment and fulfillment manager. When corporate restructuring offered him the chance to be work from home full-time, he did not even need to run the idea by James. The weekend before the big change, the two of them carved out a dedicated home office area in the apartment that was the perfect distance from the bed, sofa, and kitchen. Once it was all set up, Bruce came over and ‘donated’ a minifridge to the space to ensure that Tony would always have a stockpile of shakes at arm's reach.

Now that Tony was spending his workweeks at home, James took it upon himself to use the money Tony saved on gas and put it towards scheduled pizza deliveries to their place. With limited movement, surrounded by his favorite food, and constantly nursing weight gain shakes, Tony’s body exploded. It was not just his now permanently stretched out stomach he got from now regular funnel feeding, but a thick layer of fat formed all over the rest of his body, fully burying any evidence that he was ever an athlete.

All three of them would go to the monthly gainer meet-up, where James would proudly list off and display the progress they had made, while Bruce kept fetching Tony his plates. With all the chemistry and history that they had between each other, it was practically inevitable that James and Tony would ask Bruce to become a throuple. When Bruce’s lease was up, he moved in with them. They rang in this next chapter of their lives with James and Bruce fucking in the living room as Tony watched from the couch, stuffing himself with pizza.

Once it was Tony living with two doms, it was practically all over for him. He was now living a life of 24/7 kink, ping ponging between James and Bruce. Bruce had a hybrid job, so he was able to spend half the workweek at the apartment constantly motivating Tony to smash through all of his expected calorie requirements.

Tony never went back to school. He never got to sharpen his mind against the curriculum of higher education, nor did he hone those business skills from the advertising projects he ran. Instead, he became comfortable spending his days in a haze as he was constantly pleasured by food and sex.

Now with three streams of income at their disposal, James and Bruce pooled their connections and dominating abilities and began hosting kink parties and food orgies with the fellow kinksters in the area. James, with his background in production, was the perfect party host. Each event had incredible decorations, was properly catered, and there was always a spectacular form of entertainment planned for the evenings, usually with Tony being the guest of honor. There was even one humorous Halloween masquerade party, where he painted the naked Tony pink-ish orange to have them be James and his giant peach.

Their parties soon became the talk of the town, with so many people getting involved just to see the throuple’s interactions. Once that occurred, it seemed natural that the next step would be to start sharing their works.

Through Bruce’s and James’s domination skills and their knowledge of setting up a stage for filming, they dragged the now obscenely obese Tony online and displayed his gluttony for the entire world to see. Thus, the “Two Ton Tony Project” was created, with constant documentation of their journeys to push the limits with Tony’s body. What started as a way to document the running list of everything that went into Tony’s massive gut and weekly weigh-ins, that soon transformed into live streams, feeding requests, and paid content. James and Bruce were always present in their videos, both showing off their own cultivated gym bodies, decked out in their own leather gear, and to add that beefcake eye candy factor to highlight the extreme juxtaposition between them all.

As they became more popular, another mental shift occurred within Tony, James, and Bruce. With both the want and the expectation to keep producing new content, there came the motivation to keep things exciting for their viewers. That meant that Tony was now constantly subjected to full pedal to the metal feedings and teasing from both James and Bruce and all of their fans.

With their online success and their suped- up, non-stop, kink-fueled lives, it became apparent that they, for at least Tony, had outgrown their old apartment complex. With the additional sources of income, James and Bruce were able to find a nice, respectable house for all of them all to live. Out of consideration for Tony, they decided upon a one-floor ranch house that was both secluded yet could be delivered to by all the local take-out places.

With the luxury of their own space and the freedom to fully customize it, James took it upon himself to design the whole house to best reflect their current and developing lives. He created a home gym for the two gym rats in the back, a bedroom that could accommodate all three of them, and a truly decked sex dungeon for more intense and higher quality filming sessions. In the open living room, Tony was given his own special, extra-reinforced, easy chair which was accompanied by a set of minifridges on each side. The house was also close to a big box superstore, which gave them all a new opportunity to incorporate bulk purchases into their shopping habits, and it allowed Tony to always have one or two spare gallon tubs of ice cream for idle grazing.

This lifestyle became so mundane to Tony that he hardly blinked an eye once he crossed over the four-hundred-pound mark, nor when Bruce proposed to ring in the milestone with livestreaming tattooing of his new rank right on his gut.

That was a few years ago, and it was a now normal, Saturday afternoon.

And Tony stayed sitting in his special chair. 

Last night was just the three of them, having their date night. Since life changed so much, the date night tradition transformed into staying at home. There was a house rule of no livestreams or social media content creation during date nights, it was just a quiet movie night as they all sat on the well-worn sofa. James and Bruce were on each side of Tony, as he had his standard set of boxes of pizza and ice cream on the coffee table in front of him. Since it was both Bruce’s and Jame’s cheat, the also had some of the feast but they still made sure that Tony got his fill before moving on to casually playing with his flab for the rest of the night. Early next morning, today, both James and Bruce stepped out to do their errands. James was doing normal grocery shopping for the three of them, while James was at the superstore buying supplies for this week’s broadcasts.

While Tony was still capable of going with either one of them, with some assistance, James and Bruce were currently practicing artificially limiting the number of steps that he could take in a day. Tony was restricted to just walk from the bed to his easy chair, as well as the bathroom. If he needed food, he had to ask either one of them to fetch it for him. James made sure to fix a mountain of pancakes and include a few of his regular shakes while they were away, but that was hours ago. Tony had nothing in either minifridge, and he was bored. As Tony sat by himself, surrounded by all his flab, Sha Kewmi stood next to him, arms still crossed, with a look of smug satisfaction on his face. The green genie looked so out of place. Tony had to remind himself that none of this was real it was just an exercise to see if this was really what he wanted.

It seemed like ages ago since it was just him and James, and even more for this ‘old’ life. All of that was buried under these new memories. He had trouble just going through his mind to even recall what it was like to be a professional sports player, and even then, he had trouble remembering the details of the advertising campaign that caused him to be so stressed and drained. Tony was now a changed man, drastically different in every conceivable aspect. ‘Do I really want to go back?’

Tony struggled to begin to even comprehend the strange question as his dick twitched to give its answer. Just as he was about to just start imagining his options, his stomach let out a deep growl as a hunger pang tore through his body and snapped his attention back to the massive mound that was resting on his lap.

He placed his hands on the avalanche of gut, truly appreciating how big and soft it is, as his hands sunk into it. From underneath, Tony’s legs began to move back and forth, as they subconsciously began to massage his buried dick between his pillow thighs. His mind fell back and longed for the relief of excess instant gratification that had always been available to him, as his mouth began to water at the thought of the mere thought of filling up his stomach. Tony just kept on staring down at the soft rolling sea of blubber in front of him. 

He bought his eyes back to the genie, as muscle memory from a life where he was always encouraged to vocalize any hedonistic desire took over, as he uttered the words, “I just wish I was being fed right now.”

A mischievous smile slowly grew on Sha Kewmi’s face as he slowly uncrossed his arms, brought his right hand up, and snapped his fingers.  

“As you wish.”

This time, the snap was accompanied by the definitive sound, like a whip cracking through the air.

The magic smoke emerged once again, but this time it only swirled around the genie. Tommy watched, slightly dumbfounded as everything about the genie, from his clothes, skin, and face began to transform. His gold-trimmed cloth vest shimmered and shortened at the hem, moving all the way up his torso, as the front ends were pulled together, morphing into a leather chest harness. His body rippled as his body became not just more solid, but muscular. His green skin shifted down in hue into not just a human color but a familiar shade. From the smoke, a plastic funnel and hose materialized into the empty hands as a few liter bottles of Tony’s favorite shake appeared next to a set of newly formed legs. Tony’s heart raced as he watched on, seeing Sha Kewmi’s face change into the one that he knew and loved. The smoke dissipated for the last time as Bruce stood next to Tony with his normal, dominant smile on his face. He then reached down to grab one of the bottles at his feet and shook the bottle. The thick sloshing sound filled Tony’s ears and tickled his brain.

“Open up,~” Bruce said in the voice that has always been his as he brought the hose towards Tony’s mouth. Tony, upon reflex, complied as he dropped his jaw to accept the tube as the muscles in his mouth positioned themselves for another funnel feeding. Tony just wiggled in excitement within his own flab.

Bruce then undid the liter bottle and ceremoniously began to pour all of it into the funnel head.

Comforting arousal ran through Tony as his eyes became transfixed on the thick gainer shake that was slowly sliding down the tube. A moment later, the calorie-dense content passed over Tony’s lips. He let out a long-awaited moan of relief as the shake ran over his tongue, and his throat went into its well-practiced routine for marathon chugging.

Just as Tony downed the first liter, he heard the sound of the front door handle rattle, followed by it swinging open as James walked in, holding two of many paper grocery bags. “I’m back!~”

He then walked into the living room and looked at the scene unfolding.

“Oh, poor Tony just could not wait until lunch, huh?” in his a loving tone, as if nothing was amsiss. And why would it?  This was all totally normal.

***

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[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Author's Notes on A Gallon at a Time [Commission]

Author’s Notes is a long-running series on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories. It includes writing tricks I used for certain scenes and how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

Link to the story in question 

The person who commissioned this story wanted a darker than typical story involving both kidnapping and weight gain story. Since he was paying, I was more than happy to write.

The commissioner wanted a story about a star college jock who has been a jerk to some members of the feedee community and as a result, gets kidnapped and tube fed for days or weeks on end by a cruel master.  The commissioner also wanted the main protagonist to be utterly broken down and remade as a humiliated submissive slob. With all those notes I had a pretty clear theme and story outline workaround.

To start, I focused on establishing a cocky and kinky jock that just swaggered out of a graduation party. After covering his past (in a way that, in hindsight, I wish was less hamfisted) I had him stumble into an uber and drink a laced bottle of champagne. Waking up in a new location was the part of the story where I could really stretch my creative writing muscles to set the both scene and tone for the rest of the story.

For the location, I wanted a real oppressive atmosphere, which is why I went with a semi-furnished basement. When I described the basement, I wanted it to be as bare bones as I could make it while still providing all the living amenities needed for a prolonged stay. When describing it, I had the image of a standard prison cell in my mind, just a bit more spacious.

PS: If you have not already, go watch The Black Phone. It’s a good movie and where I took some inspiration for this story!

Initially, I was also going to write about how the shower only had cold water and how degrading it was to sleep on a bare mattress but both were cut for the sake of brevity. Once the setting was established, I took a leaf from other horror movies by having the creaking floorboards overhead to herald the approach of Max. I based Max’s appearance on a very romanticized version of a farmer or trucker and his personality of a dom with a job to do.

To build up the darker and uncaring themes of the story, I had Max come right out of the gate stating how much he does not care about Kelly and that everything going forward was purely professional.

As I began drafting the ‘fun parts’ of the initial feeding, I needed to ‘solve’ the problem of how to get an unwilling person to go along with this and every other session.  Since someone could easily spit any shake out or even refuse to swallow. This is where and why I introduced the gag ball funnel and the dildo gag used as a threat if Kelly would not comply.

After the first stuffing, I decided to address the issue of how to justify Kelly’s disappearance for months without raising suspicion. That was where the social media status came in to not only give a justifiable absence but add a bit of despair for Kelly as well. Once all the rules and expectations were set, I then transitioned to describing Kelly’s new imprisoned life, with a brief summary of what Kelly’s days were like going forward. During this, I made sure to highlight the lack of time and schedule in the basement just to add more uncertainty to Kelly’s life.

The downtime of the days was also used by Kelly to foil Max’s plan with some very limited body weight exercise before giving up against the onslaught of shakes.

The body change from the capture was pretty for the course the only twist is that a lack of time and mirrors left Kelly and the reader filling in the gaps of what he actually looked like, especially with the lack of grooming with hair and beard.

I also used the prolonged downtime to lead to severe boredom which led Kelly to graze on snacks during the off hours as well as start to look forward to every new session with Max.

I must say, I think I pulled off the subtle mental shift of Max as a captor to company and then to daddy quite nicely. I just used the event of any bit company and made Kelly value that over all else, doing anything to keep that company to stay around long as possible. Then I used that desire for company and mixed it with the feeling of being bloated to transform it into arousal.

Once the arousal was established, with the breakdown of calling Max, ‘Daddy’, I reset the dynamic between the two. As that new normal was established, revisited some of the scenes, with another description of Kelly’s body and sluggishness in the basement prison, both when Max was and was not around.

Then once that new routine became established and then almost comforting, I shattered it with the sudden announcement that Max was going to bring guests over. That was where I had fun playing up his anxiety as Kelly as he was forced to confront the unknown of meeting new people outside of his little prison life.

Because I like to bring things full circle, I had the guest revealed to be three subs that  Kelly used to bully and that they were the ones that hired Max to kidnap and transform him. That reveal also came with a series of humiliating jeers from the guests followed by Max ‘preparing’ Kelly by completely shaving every other bit of body hair off of him. Once he was ‘prepared’ Max ordered to wear a just pair of overalls that Kelly initially thinks is going to be too big but then found out that they just barely fit him.

The emasculating haircut was explicitly requested by the commissioner after he read one of my other stories.

With the new haircut and outfit done the transformation was complete, Kelly was ordered to finally go upstairs and exit his personal prison, only to go directly to a public event. Then, to deliver one more twist of the knife, I had Max inform Kelly that he was using Kelly’s phone to hype up his big return with his friends.

While much darker in tone and themes than what I typically write, or am comfortable with, this was a fun excuse to be asked to go forward and explore those topics for this story.

I hoped everyone enjoyed it. ***

If you have any more questions about anything on 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 your support. ***

If you enjoyed this post, 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

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Update to Patreon Structure

Hello everyone! I wanted to make this post to announce a change to my Patreon page structure. As of this month, I am discontinuing the $10/month Avid Reader Tier along with the monthly story poll perk. After the massive Werewolf Party CYOA, I thought that I could resume the Monthly Story Poll feature. Yet over the past few months, I realized that my writing style and the scope of my stories have become too grand. Even with the recent perfect situations in my personal life, I just can’t keep up with the monthly deadlines. So, to stop the ongoing disappointment and because I can not salvage the Monthly Story Poll perk in any meaningful way, I am just going to end it. Starting now, my Patreon is going to consist of the $1, $5, and $50 tiers with the Author’s Notes being the only perk behind the time-limited paywall. I hope you understand the decision. I do have the June Pride story still in the works, along with four other fully drafted stories, their accompanying Author’s Notes. I also have plenty of additional stories and new projects that have been on the back burner for a long while.

And once again, thank you to everyone who supports me, not just on Patreon but on Tumblr, Furaffinity, Bluesky, and in real life.

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Author Notes on Patreon Suggested Story: July 2022

Author’s Notes is a long-running series on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories. It includes writing tricks I used for certain scenes and how and why I set up my stories in a certain way. Link to the story in question 

Funny enough, the premise of a power bottom who used fantasy nanobots as a way to give up more control to their BDSM partner came to me in a dream. It was a fun dream.

The story that came from that dream was heavily paired down from the original inspiration.

In the dream that I had, everything took place at a week-long day camp with a slew of other couples and it had a greater focus on learning the tutorials and test drives so each partner was properly accustomed to what each feature does. Between the setting of multiple days at a camp with staff and a focus on the strengthening of relationships with this tool, it would be slightly drier and much longer than what I typically write.

So compromises needed to be made, so the new setting was changed to the protagonist’s, Ethan, apartment the day his boyfriend got discharged by the clinic.

The story arc that I wanted to convey was the bottom partner introducing and pushing a new style of kink onto a hesitant top but willing top. After the exploration and warm-up, the top becomes comfortable with the new device and takes the lead to introduce a new way to use it in the scene.

One like that I did pride myself on was the little bit of worry and compassion that I was able to *hopefully* capture between Ethan and Tyler at the start, not only with the text messages but the reassurance that Tyler was unchanged after the procedure.

Since I have already done more extreme science fiction nanobots and drone stores, I wanted something that was more grounded and limited with that type of technology. Technological uses that we might see in the near future rather than the far-flung space-age future, which is why the nanobots were connected via a smartphone app and just limited to information gathering and sensory manipulation.

When it came to laying out the features of the remote control, I had to be extra mindful of the order of not only the features displayed on the remote but the order they were used in the story to increase the tension between the two.

I wanted the list on the remote to seem like they were laid out, like most program settings, from general to specific settings in descending order, which is why I went with  ‘Information’ first, then ‘Body Control’ followed ‘Cock Control’, and ‘Extra’. I purposefully added the ‘Extra’ option along with the others as a story breadcrumb to come back to and expand on additional features in future installments.

To follow the theme of the top and bottom exploring a new feature, I had Tyler take the lead and show off all the ‘cool features’ in the Information tab.

This is where the concerned top came in and the hesitation of the invasion of privacy from the intimate personal information on display. I’ll be honest, this segment of the story was directly pulled from the scary amount of metadata that is scrapped from the web and how it’s used to recreate an in-depth profile on all of us.

After that concern of privacy, I had Tyler reassured he was down with it and directed Ethan toward the fun features of the nanobots and the start of the spiciness in this story.

While it started out with the exploration of core functions and the excited comments it was all working as intended.

For the heated stuff, I wanted to focus on the combination of both forced edging and chastity by the use of the remote. To ramp up the tension, I drove home the use of the increased touch sensitivity to force Tyler to extreme arousal.

After the nudging from Tyler and the notification from the device that everything was ok, I had Ethan go off and independently explore the other menus to further tease Tyler.

For the flow and escalation of the story, it wanted all the features to snowball into each other with compounding interest and exhilaration by both members. That caused the exploration of the sensitivity settings of the rest of the body while Tyler’s hand stayed glued to his own cock.

After establishing that feature, I introduced the limitations of mouth and eyes when Ethan had a movement of clarity and began wondering about the current noise levels and what the neighbors might think. But like a good dom, or improv actor, he spun that concern into something that he could use to enhance the scene between them.

While I have never been gagged before, from the comments, art, and media I’ve seen I believe that there is an increased desire to use one’s voice after a gag was applied.

Then with the blacking out of the eyes, it allowed me to segue to the climax of the story. I wanted the climax to happen after the top pinned the surprised bottom to the ground while assaulting him with both the remote and spare hand. That would turn the bottom into an oversensitive mess, begging for release.

And since I was playing with such extremes in terms of touch I figured that a full stop on all the augmented settings would be a fun whiplash as the high octane sensory crashed back to a standstill and a hands-free orgasm. With Ethan still in the dom mindset, I made him keep using the orgasm button until Tyler was milked dry.

It was at that point, with a very satisfied sub did I get to my goal of the dom coming around to the idea of the new tool being a good investment for both of them. I’m particularly proud of how this story turned out. I think it’s no surprise I put a bit extra of myself in this story, especially when it came to my real-life instances of experimenting and trying new things over the past few years.

***

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 post, 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

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Author's Notes on Daddy Dom's Dungeon

Author’s Notes is a long-running series on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories. It includes writing tricks I used for certain scenes and how and why I set up my stories in a certain way. This particular Post was rejected by Patreon. Yet I have already put in all the effort of writing, typing, and editing, so I am going to publicly post it here in its entirety. *** Link to the Story in question

In all my years of writing, a gay incest story has always been on my ‘to write’ list. While I have done a very steamy POV story of a dad bod in a sauna, it did not have that… je ne sais quoi of having an actual father figure in the scene. I think of it in the same way that champagne has to be made in a specific part of France, or it is just sparkling wine.

I also believe if you are in the porno business long enough, you eventually have to do some sort of incest based piece of art. It’s similar to foot-focused or vore stories; even if you're not into it, you'll eventually have to do one. It’s like paying your dues. From my understanding of an actual daddy-incest kink, the appeal is both from the ‘seasoned old man’ trope and the taboo feeling of going through or even witnessing the act unfold. Those two aspects were what I was really focusing on as I started this story. Even with the action and the approach to the action in mind, I still needed to create the rest of the story. That involved making the dad character, creating a stage of the action, and coming up with a plausible story excuse for sex itself. For the father figure, I wanted to create the ‘daddiest’ masculine dad I could make. To me, that meant he was going to be middle-aged, with a greying ex jock body that has both his muscles yet softened by the easy life and be impressively hung. For his personality, I needed him to radiate confidence and control. With all those imposing and manly features, it only seemed appropriate to give him the name “Brutus”. As I was thinking of the character, I also wanted the dad to have a deluxe sex dungeon that was not just professionally designed, but to show off the decades of experience that this ‘seasoned old man’ acquired, and to allow a more competent initiation of the BDSM action. 

For a sex dungeon to be as big and decked out as I wanted, there needed to be some serious money behind it. I also wanted the reveal of the dungeon to be a surprise, so it needed to be in a house that was huge enough, or new enough, that it was believable that the protagonist did not explore every room of the place before the story.  So, naturally, a manor estate owned by the boyfriend’s dad gave the perfect amount of justifiable cover.

For an adult to have that sort of financial means, and to have the body I envisioned, it was simply common sense to make the father an ex-pro-footballer who retired early by investing his money wisely.

I chose impact play as the main action for this story because it offered so many natural moments of escalation as an act of foreplay. Starting with an interesting flogger, then moving to the hand, as well as having control of the rate and intensity of the hits with each.

Now that I had the character, the dungeon, and action in place, I needed a premise in which all of those things could plausibly occur.

Because I wanted the father’s dungeon to radiate expensive taste, I rationalized that a character like him would want his living room to be just as decked out for the other fun in his life, especially with football watch parties. Truth be told, I had way more fun describing the high-budget living room that was a self-congratulatory tribute to the father’s life in his prime than the actual dungeon itself.  It also provided some nice narrative mirroring later for how I also went top-down to describe the dungeon itself.

The other thing that was needed to establish a relatively new romantic relationship between the protagonist and the boyfriend was to justify going to the manor by himself, the shock of the father’s candidness, and the awe of the reveal of the sex dungeon.

From there, with the premise of waiting in the living room of the boyfriend’s house to go on a date, did I get the excuse to initiate the classic porn story set up of the protagonist ‘walking in’ on his boyfriend’s father as he was getting done with his shower. Granted, I added my own twist to it, yet it allowed me to transition the story from the normal side of the house to the kinky side.

As for the character interaction, I wanted to play up the openness of Brutus standing back ass naked in the hallway, what I’m calling ‘high kink, low key’ approach versus the ‘out of the depths’, highly embarrassed newbie protagonist. For the protagonist, I leaned heavily on the body’s reactions and stammering dialogue to convey that he was flustered instead of just stating it.

To hit the conflicted feelings of taboo, I kept teasing how similar the father was to the boyfriend as I described the body, while also constantly stating the relationship that the protagonist was already in. I will fully declare that a lot of inspiration and reference for these two personalities and their interaction are based on the works of the profound furry comic artist Zourik. Go check out his work! I used being both blindsided and starstruck by the naked, famous father as a way to justify the protagonist to listening to Brutus’s command and following him down the hallways of his house. As they were walking, I used that moment to have the lust-fueled side of the protagonist drink in every daddy detail of Brutus’s backside as well as throw in a few cheeky, intrusive, horny thoughts to keep that taboo feeling going. After a while, and the reveal that the protagonist had never been to this side of the manor before, I finally had Brutus reveal the sex dungeon. Just like the living room, I went top down and focused on the self-congratulatory aspect of the room with a framed gallery of Brutus’s moments of glory. Of course, there needed to be furniture and entertainment systems in the room, so I added the X-cross, bed, and camera. For that extra Daddy Flair, I made sure to note that the sex tools were hung up and organized on the hooks attached to garage-style peg boards. As the bewildered protagonist marveled at the reveal of the room and the implications, I had Brutus slip behind him and change to give a jump scare of being in his leather gear. While dominant leather gear is a staple in my stories, I also rationalized that it helped the protagonist slip into the sub role. I also want to take time in my Author’s Notes to highlight how delighted I am for creating the snappy dialogue that introduced, established, and double-checked safe words between the two of them before any fun began. Because THAT’S the sign of a professional BDSM Dungeon Master! I also included a moment of choice as the protagonist was given the choice of what tool would be used on him from the arsenal of naughty goodies. As mentioned before, I divided the impact play into two segments, one with the flogger and the other with bare hands on a pommel horse once his legs threaten to give out.

For that extra bit of taboo fun, I peppered this scene with moments of a certain word forming inside the protagonist. I went on to describe the internal conflict of wanton desire versus the client’s own determination, and embarrassment, to suppress it. I also wanted to create some misdirection, with the hopeful reader's assumption that ‘the word’ was the established safe word. 

That aspect of a word being a sentient mental ‘thing’ inside of a mind came from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, with a wizard named Rincewind who read a forbidden spell book and had a powerful spell get lodged in his own head, and is always trying to get out through Rincewind’s mouth. There’s a metaphor there about denying one’s sexual desires somewhere in the segment of the story, if anyone cares to use it.

Yet as the scene began more hot the protagonist’s willpower began to weaken, ‘the word’ escaped from his mouth as he finally called Brutus “Daddy”. With that confession, following the embarrassing reaction of the protagonist, Brutus ‘accepted’ the given position, which allowed me to escalate the scene once more to some proper fucking. Granted, not without spending more time than I wanted describing the process of opening up the protagonist, because I am cursed to be thorough and realistic in all of my fantasy stories.

After the mind-blowing sex, because it is always mind-blowing, I finally introduced the boyfriend who has been constantly referenced throughout this story. Following the porn tropes of old, I had the boyfriend enter by actually walking in on the two in the act. I then had Michael and Brutus engage in some playful banter and scolding, as the protagonist watched, grappling with the mortification of being ‘caught’ before he realized the history of their lifestyles.  

I must say, I enjoyed hamming up Brutus’s response at the end as he talked to Michael and the protagonist about their ‘open’ family secret and providing a bit of Dad Pride with the backstory of Michael’s 18th birthday party getaway. I am also very proud that I was able to incorporate the corny phrase ‘dad tax’ in this story. And because this is a porno, both the protagonist and the boyfriend were ok with sharing, and the story faded to black just as the threesome began. While I doubt I will return to these characters, the topic and dynamic of an official throuple forming here did help create a relationship dynamic that I further fleshed out in a currently unreleased story~.  That will be for another time. ***

If you enjoyed this post, 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

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Patreon Suggested Story: May 2025

This story topic was voted on by the wonderful Avid Readers on my Patreon! For May's poll, the winning story prompt was ‘Macro Story'

“Ouch, that hurts!” you said, eyes closed, as you instinctively crouched down and bent your head down. You began rubbing the spot on the top of your skull and winced in pain. You kept your eyes shut tight as you continued to rub the sore spot, waiting for the worst to pass. As your fingers rub through your hair, bits of debris begin to get dislodged and fall to your shoulders. You also felt a particular breeze pass over you. 

‘Odd,’ some part of your mind commented as you remained focused on the pain. Along with the pain on your head, you were able to recognize the fading sensation of a different type of pain all over your body. All you could remember was a blinding light followed by a nasty bonk on the head. You gingerly unbent your legs and straightened your spine, while still keeping your head down as you slowly opened your eyes.

You saw that you were standing in the middle of the destroyed remains of the science lab. “Wait, what!?”

As you blinked your eyes in astonishment, you realized that you were not just standing within the lab. You were standing in the ruined remains of the entire science department building.

Ruined was not quite the right word, from the destruction you can see, it looked like the department went through both an explosion and a stampede. 

Radiating out of that middle point, you saw the smashed and strewn hallways and other science labs that surrounded the one you were in, as well as some of the toppled fragments of the classrooms on the floors directly above.

‘Thank goodness the experiment happened on a Saturday… people could have gotten seriously hurt,’ some part of you thought to yourself. As you looked down, you saw that right between your legs was the lab where the experiment took place. There was still the white, tilted floor, and most of the equipment that surrounded you. While the unscathed objects were familiar, they looked so small, like scale models of their true selves. In the middle of the lab was your crazed STEM grad friend, in their lab coat, jumping up and down and running in circles. You could make out that they was shouting something, but he was too far away for you to hear. Next to your friend was the impressive machine that they had been tinkering on for the better part of the year. It looked like a cross between a dentist’s X-ray machine and a ray gun cannon from an old school science fiction show. Now it just looked like a mini-figure piece from a tabletop game.

You remembered it whirring to life as you were staring down the barrel of that thing. Then came the big flash …and then all of this.

As you continued to look down at the odd perspective and process all of the sudden strangeness, it all clicked. It was not that everything was small, but rather that you became big. Not just big, but giant-sized.

There was no explosion in the science department either, it was just you bursting out of the building.

You brought your hand back up to your head and gently brushed your hair once more. You carefully brought it back down to properly examine the debris. Dusted across your palm and fingers were the remains of not just the various floors and ceiling tiles of the department but all the wires,  insulation, and pipes that filled the gaps between them all. Seeing that destruction between your fingers, a moment of panic raced through your mind, as you brought your attention back to the lab right below you.

You focused in on your STEM friend, reexamining the actions they were doing. They were still running around the lab and yelling. 

As you watched, you could now see that they were also jumping up and down while pumping their little fists in the air. Once you confirmed that they were safe and not injured by the destruction, you let out the breath that you had not realized you were holding and began to relax.

As you did so, your eyes drifted to your feet as you began to get a better sense of yourself. They were not cartoonishly large, like clown shoes, they still remained proportional to the rest of you, just giant-sized. 

You saw the evidence of your bare feet pushing the walls and furniture of the science department away as your body suddenly grew out, as well as the indent of your footprint as each foot pressed into the building’s foundation. You had no idea where your socks and shoes went off to, and it would be impossible to find them in this mess. You gave the toes on your right foot and an experimental wiggle. They all behaved like normal, just … bigger. You saw the debris of the department fall off the top of your foot and between your toes. It felt almost like stepping on and shaking off a pile of stale breadcrumbs. You moved your eyes up your bare legs and confirmed that your calves, knees, and quads were also proportionally normal to what you remembered about yourself. Your attention then moved up to your groin and your eyes bulged as you saw your cock and balls dangling free in the open air. While you were never ashamed of your size, having it be on full display was a bit much. You quickly brought both of your hands down to cover them as you felt your face redden. The thought of inadvertently exposing yourself to others caused you to whip your head up to scan your surroundings. The quick turn, as well as what you saw from your new position, almost induced vertigo.

You were still standing on the university grounds that you know and love, but now you could see all of it. Not just the pathways and streets you traveled down to get to classes, but the rooftops of the buildings as well. Casting your eyes just outside the campus borders, you could see the neighborhood of the town where your university resides. Within the streets beyond the university, you saw the near microscopic glints of sunlight reflecting off the windshields of moving cars, along with the collective screams of panic on just the edge of your vision. You continued to move your eyes up towards the horizon. In the distance were the towering skyscrapers of the neighboring city.  Even as you turned your head back downwards, your attention remained snagged on that cluster of buildings. In the chaos that was right underneath you. Your friend was still in the mists of their frantic celebration and looked like they were not taking any action to reverse your growth. You then began to think back on when they discussed the experiment with you, in very technical details. You could not recall if they even had a protocol in place to change you back.

‘No doubt this will make the national news by the end of the night,’ you thought to yourself as you dropped your shoulders in defeat as the full scope of this predicament began to reveal itself.

‘There’s no way to cover my face and the other parts of me,’ you continued on with that thought, ‘...so instead of just awkwardly standing here, why not just seize the moment and go out and explore the best that I can?’

‘And besides, they will know how to find me,’ you reassured yourself as you looked directly down at your friend. You waited until they looked up at you and then gave a two-finger salute as you shifted your attention back to your imminently surroundings.

You carefully lifted your foot out of the remains of the science department and moved it over to an empty spot on campus before repeating the process with your other foot. It was a challenge to figure out the best place to step within the confines of the now cramped campus space. 

You made an effort to move along the streets and available courtyard areas, while avoiding knocking over any of the other classrooms or faculty buildings. You kept awkward pivoting your hips, constantly scanning the area, and tiptoeing around while keeping both of your hands on your junk.

Despite how lightly you tried to tread, destruction still followed, as nothing could maintain the weight of your giant body. The cement of both the empty streets and walkways cracked like a layer of thin ice over a puddle in winter, while the soft ground of the courtyards sank down around your toes.

After some finagling, you were able to get through the rest of the school campus and clear the walls of the institute as you stepped into town. By now, the town and the public were in a full-blown panic from both your sudden appearance and your approach towards them. People were either staring up at you, agasped, or running for cover. On the street below, you saw matchbox-sized cars swerve off the road and frantically maneuver to get away from you. 

Thankfully, the university was right next to the highway exit, and it was now literally just a hop, skip, and a jump away from you. With the streets mostly cleared, you used them as a way to continue to carefully navigate through the adjacent neighborhood on tiptoes. Just like before, the cement on the road out fractures into spiderwebs cracks under your feet, and since the neighborhood was more cluttered than the spacious university, it also came with a different type of destruction. Now you felt the odd plastic and metal trash can that lined the streets crumple under you, creating a sensation similar to popping a single bubble wrap bubble. Even though you tried to avoid it, you still inadvertently knocked over the occasional power lines. You did not feel any shock from them, other than the sensation of the snapping of a tripwire and the knocking of the occasional telephone pole being pulled from its spot in the ground as it trailed behind you at the ankles. You reasoned that it would be safer for everyone involved to just keep going and untangle the mess of power lines once you had more space on the highway. After a few more mostly unobscured blocks, you were able to side-step off the street, over the ramp, and finally get onto the highway. Here, you were greeted with rows and rows of paved car lanes from both directions, with only the collection of discarded vehicles in the breakdown lanes to clutter the empty space. No one else dared to share the road with you.

Seeing all that open area was a more than welcome sight to you and your new body. You cast your eyes down the long stretch of smooth, nearly unimpeded road ahead, connecting you to the city in the distance. You let out a sigh of relief, releasing the tension you were holding on to and letting you let your arms fall back to their sides as you were finally in an area where you could take up all the space you needed. With that, you took a step forward and started your stroll towards the city. As you began your walk on the sprawling highway lanes, you took a moment to enjoy the odd serenity of it all, along with the unobscured sun bathing upon your skin. It was weird, even with your new giant body, the sun’s heat still felt the same as before. After a while, you gave a glance behind you to look at the ‘damage’ you caused by your carefree strides. From the entrance ramp to where you were now, there was a trail of footprints, from heel to toe, cleanly pressed into the pavement. Accompanying each foot-shaped crater were pavement cracks that extended outwards.

“They look like something from a cartoon,” you remarked, smirking to yourself as you turned your head back around. Even with the multiple lanes, the stroll was still not as mindless as you initially wanted it to be. You still needed to keep an eye out for the odd discarded vehicle in the middle of the highway, as well as stepping around the highway bridges that you knew would instantly crumple under your weight. As you got closer to the city, you heard a familiar oscillating buzzing sound. You instinctively looked straight up, and once lowering your gaze, you were able to spot a pair of helicopters approaching you. On the side of each helicopter’s cabin and tail boom were the colorful banners with a series of four letters that identified them from the local city news stations. Once they reached a ‘safe’ distance, you saw the helicopters rotate their bodies and maintain their distance in front of you.

‘Well, I guess I'm the biggest news story there is,’ you mentally commented with a chuckle as you looked back down at yourself. It was here you realized that not only were you still completely naked, but somewhere along the way, you gave up trying to cover yourself. Your cock and balls were just freely swinging in the air, bouncing along with the motion of your body as you continued your stroll down the highway. You were about to cover them back up when you caught yourself. You had already been walking like this for a while, and no doubt both newscopters had already gotten their close-up of what you were packing. There was honestly no point trying to hide them. With that line of reasoning, you gave yourself a reassuring shrug of acceptance as you looked back up at the set of newscopters and flashed them a wink. You then pushed the thought of them out of your mind as you began to enter the outskirts of the city. The buildings now came back up and crowded around the highway, forcing you to go back to being a bit more mindful of how you stepped within the increasingly narrowing streets and the cars parked there. There must have been a city-wide evaluation notice judging on how relatively empty the city streets were for a weekend afternoon. That did not phase you as you made your single-file steps through the blocks, towards the heart of the city. As you carefully walked on through, you took a moment to marvel at the well-worn streets you traveled on your past weekend trips here, from the incredible near bird's-eye view you have now. Among the familiar sights, you also saw the new destruction that you were causing. With the city’s narrower and cluttered streets. It was now not just power lines and the yielding of the pavement, you were now constantly crushing the cars or the bus stop shelters on the side of the road with your bare feet. You also witnessed the glass of the front door or windows of the occasional building shatter from just your shockwaves. Spilling out from the building, down the various side streets, you saw the crowds running away from you. They were all too far away and bunched up together to make anyone out in particular, they all just came together to form a swarm of tiny people. Watching that unfold from all around you made you feel… powerful, and further emboldened you on your personal mission.

As you continued to go deeper into the city, the buildings rose up to meet you. Block by block, the rooftops passed your navel, then your pecs, and beyond. When you eventually reached the business district, most of the buildings had already passed your eye level and now stood a head or so taller than you. Within the business district, the streets became wider, originally accommodating the excess of commuters, but it gave you a chance to stretch out once more. Since you have been walking in a considerable straight line, and at a rather slow rate at that, it gives the people of the city a clear idea of where to stay away from. Even so, as you passed some of the office buildings, you noticed that there were still some people inside, either huddling under their desks or pressed up against the far wall of the meeting rooms. Even below, you could still catch some stragglers bailing from their hiding places, making a last-minute mad dash to safety. It was as you continued to physically walk around the block, taking in the sights from your new perspective, that something caught your attention.

On one of the office floors at your eye level, there was a lone man dressed in a white collar business suit. Instead of shrinking away into the building, he had his hands pressed up against the full-length window and learning forward. He was looking at you with an odd expression on his face, it was not one of terror but something adjacent to it. The look caught you so off guard that you stopped mid-stride and turned your entire body towards him just to get a better look.

The man seemed to tremble from your advance, yet he did not move, he did not even break his stance. 

This close up you could see his breathing begin to go into overtime. There was that peculiar, wide-eyed look of awe on his small face. He was also trying to maintain eye contact with you while fighting, and losing the urge to steal glances at the rest of you. 

You continued to focus on the minute complexities of the expression on this businessman and his actions, until the answer jumped from the deep recesses of your mind, right onto the mental center stage.

It was arousal. You had to blink a few times to make sure you got that right. It was hard to believe it, especially in this situation. Yet once you identified it, all the odd details began to fall into place. You looked over at the stranger and wordlessly asked for confirmation of your suspicion. The businessman replied with a sheepish nod in agreement. You just continued to stand there for a moment as your mind worked through this new revelation. Judging from the various art and smut stories you stumbled across on the internet, the world was chock-full of people with unique kinks. It would not be surprising if this major size difference was somebody’s.

The more you thought about it, the more this lone businessman’s actions made sense. If you had an impossible fetish like this and an actual giant just strolled into your workplace, it would be totally understandable to fight your base fears just to see how this would all play out. With that understanding, a devilish smile grew across your face.

If this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, why not humor him with a show that he’ll never forget? From the hopeful look on the stranger, he picked up on what exactly you were thinking. With your mind made up, you drew yourself up to your full height, square your shoulders, and puffed your chest out in front of him. Even though you were not in perfect shape yourself, you proceeded to perform an over-the-top overhead double bicep flex. The businessman practically went feral. His head snapped up to stare at your arms against the vast sky as one of his hands hastily undid his belt while the other slipped under his pants.

Rolling with that reaction, you proceeded to follow up with some additional full-body flexes as you began to think about the other types of appeal regarding this kink. After the fourth flexing pose, the idea came to you as you returned to your normal stance and waited for him to look back at you. While still maintaining eye contact with him, you shifted your weight onto one foot as you bent your other leg to bring it up as high as you could.

The businessman’s attention instantly snapped to your foot dangling in the air. You let the tension build up for a moment before you brought it straight down.

*BOOM!* Your foot came crashing down upon the city street, sending shockwaves throughout the district. 

You heard the windows on the lower floors shatter and felt it fall helplessly around your feet. Yet your attention stayed on the tiny pervert as he, and everything else in the room, jumped a full two feet into the air before they all came crashing down. Despite the tumble, you saw that he was having the time of his life. He quickly got up to his feet and resumed stroking himself, not bothering to pull up either his pants or underpants that fell to his ankles from the man-made earthquake. You were able to do it again before you reminded yourself that the shockwaves could seriously hurt him… and the others around. You righted yourself and shifted your focus to survey the street below to find a safer way to continue to ‘rampage’. You quickly found what you were looking for.

You bent down and proceeded to pick up one of the abandoned city police cars, with its light still flashing, between your fingers. You placed it in your palm and brought it up to the businessman’s level so that he could get a good look.

He instantly knew what you were about to do and continued to watch on with abject fascination as he continued to masturbate. You then dramatically closed your fingers around the car, making a fist before you started to squeeze. Even with the size difference, the act still required an extra bit of exertion. Yet soon enough, you felt a twinge of satisfaction at the mounting force you put into you, followed by the initial give of the steel roof panel, followed by the sudden crumpling of the entire frame. 

It was just like finding the right amount of pressure to collapse an empty soda can against your head. You proceeded to ham up the action with a few extra squeezes before you slowly unfurled your fingers to reveal the black, white, and blue remains of the vehicle to your biggest fan. 

You then proceeded to pick up the other remaining abandoned police cars off the street and continued to crush each one. Either between your index finger and thumb, finger against your palm, or even clapping it between your hands, every car ended up getting squished into a flat pile of scrap. No matter which way you destroyed them, your biggest fan continued to lap it all up. As you went through showing off giant strength, it dawned on you that you were also getting off on this as well. Whether it was the wanton destruction that you caused, your new size, or performing in front of an enraptured audience. It might have just been a combination of all of them. 

Whatever the reason was, you felt your heart quicken as perverse joy coursed through your body. Once you recognize that, you allow that emotion to fuel your actions, motivating you to become more extravagant with your displays of power.

You eventually ran out of police cars, and while still riding high with the feeling of power, you looked around for anything else to play with. It was then when your eyes fell upon your rock hard cock, with a due drop of precum budding off the head.

Even though it remained the same size in proportion to you, seeing your cock stand erect against the backdrop of the wrecked city street below made it look bigger than ever before. You shot a glance up to your biggest fan, who was also staring at it. As you two made eye contact, you saw him give the pleading head nod. A wicked grin grew on your face as you took a step back and jutted your hips out as you began to put on a very public show, just for him.

While you were no stranger to jacking off, it was a first for doing it out in the open like this. Despite that you still gave it your best shot by mimicking the actions of the porn stars that you saw online. You placed your hands on your pecs and slowly moved them down to your waist as you grabbed the base of your cock with one hand as you cupped your balls with the other. You started off slow as you playfully bounced your cock up and down before you slowly started to run your hand up and down the shaft.

As you began to find the right rhythm, you closed your eyes and let your mind drift to think about everything you did today. All the destruction you caused just by being his size, how nobody stopped you, how nobody could stop you.

And that you could do anything. That last thought caused your body and your hand to jump up into the next gear as you continued to revel in that truth and the moment. You were then reminded of your fan, the one you were initially doing this for. You opened your eyes back up and saw that your little man pressed up as close as you could to the window, matching your pace with the same fervor.

Looking at him, you then began to think back to the news helicopters that had been absent since entering the city. You did not doubt some brave soul out there, filming you and broadcasting it out for the world to see. You continued to stroke yourself as you continued that train of thought.

There were so many people who you saw fleeing from you, and there must have been so many more who watched you lay waste to that fleet of police cars. So many people must have seen you lay waste to that fleet of police cars, and now they were all watching you jack off in the middle of the city.

‘I wonder how many were also getting off to me?’

That question, and all the potential it came with, was the one that pushed you over the edge. Your knees buckled as your breath got caught in your throat, as you felt the building pressure in your groin reach a crescendo. You were just in control enough point your cock right up at the businessman at the last second as you let a self-satifiying, “F-fuck Yeah!”

Your cum came rushing out of you and soared through the air, splattering against the window that had your admirer and covering it completely. From both the rush of the climax and seeing that display, you lost whatever self-restraint you had. Your libido took over, forcing you to double over as it cranked your hand into overtime, determined to squeeze out every bit of cum from your balls. As the flood of depraved pleasure carried you away, you realized just how pent up you were, right as you felt your body begin to ready itself to produce another orgasm.

With the loss of composure also came the loss of control of your aim as your second load ended up being sprayed across the lower half of the building and into the cracks of the street below. It was only once your body was totally empty did the lustful rush subsided, and you were able to regain control once again. You blinked your eyes back into focus as you resurveyed your surroundings. The building in front of you was coated with your cum. You saw thick globs sliding down the side, catching in the light of the sun in their descent. You just marveled at your work, basking in that post orgasm high, until more of your senses came back to you. You then straightened yourself back to your full height and you reached up to use your thumb to wipe the cum off of the window of your admirer.

You were greeted by the sight of the tiny businessman on his knees, face flushed red and gasping air, as his side of the glass was speckled with cum. As you watched, you saw him slowly lift his head to meet you, and he raised a shaky hand to give you a thumbs up as he mouthed the words, ‘Thank you’. Seeing that he was completely satisfied, you let out an accomplished sigh as you felt the exhaustion of the action-packed day finally catch up to you. Your legs began to turn into jelly, and your eyelids started to droop over your vision. You had enough time to catch yourself as you dropped to your knees.

Once on the ground level, years of autopilot took over as you repositioned your legs to stretch out onto the flattened city street. Your arms coordinated with your torso to ease the rest of yourself down, with the last thing to make contact with the ground being the back of your head. As you repositioned yourself one last time before drifting off into a nap within the once busiest area of the city, you had one more comforting thought. ‘If no one could stop me… What could I do next?’

*** 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Author's Notes on Genie in the Bottle

Author’s Notes is a long-running series on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories. It includes writing tricks I used for certain scenes and how and why I set up my stories in a certain way.

Going forward, I will publish Author’s 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

After reading this story, one might get the impression that I drew inspiration from this story from the Monkey Paw’s tale or any of the other ‘cursed wish maker’ stories but you would be wrong. The driving force of Genie in the Bottle came from Super Eyepatch Wolf’s ‘Influencer Courses are Garbage’ video and the candid truth of exactly how difficult it is to start and stay afloat as a successful internet content creator.

The story idea actually began with the thought, ‘wouldn’t it be nice if one could just skip time, money, and effort to start up and climb the social ladder?’ So I created a story with a magical item that does just that!

Before I could start with the wish fulfillment, I had to set the scene of the story. I figured that the best way for anyone to suddenly receive a magical artifact would be as an inheritance from an extended family member.

For the dead uncle, I modeled his life and adventures after Playboy founder, Hugh Hefner. Once the backstory was all set up and established I was able to introduce the authentic oil lamp as the final bit of property from the estate. Like most genie stories, the summoning happened from an involuntary rub of the lamp.

For the choice of describing the genie, I purposefully avoided doing a wise-talking, charismatic, genie like from the Disney movies because I did not want a personable genie to ‘distract’ the protagonist from coming to his own conclusions about what he wanted. I also feared that people would think this would just be another malicious demon creature.

PS:  While I was tempted, I don't think I am proficient in my writing abilities to imitate the speech style of the Late Great Norm MacDonald, since he voiced another charismatic genie from the show the Fairly Oddparents. That was why I opted for a deep-voiced genie that can only be observed by these glowing eyes through a curtain of red smoke. Which I think is a really cool design for a powerful supernatural being.

With that setting and genie established it was time to get to the wishes! When I was drafting this story, I had a very clear endpoint for the protagonist to be after the final wish, I wanted him to be an incredibly successful and popular gay BDSM rock star who was surrounded by men.

From there I had to work backward and think critically about all the ‘things’ that one would need to gain and maintain that type of lifestyle and condense it into just three wishable things. After a bit of brainstorming, I boiled it down to the three wishes of

Perfect body

The stamina

The blanket wish that covers the lifestyle changes

All those wishes involved skipping the hard and tedious work of laying down the foundation of an online presence and going straight to the gathering of the fruits of the labor.

To build motivation and to connect each wish together, I played into the envy and desire for an ideal fantasy life he did not have because of the choices in his life.

Writing the body transformation of the first wish was pretty easy to carry out since I had so much previous experience depicting sudden body transformation from other stories. I will say writing about the changes from the second was a bit of a cop out since all it was was an intangible feeling from inside, followed by the protagonist just knowing that he could perform like a beast now.  To provide consistency with the reveal of where this story was going, I had to be mindful of the wording of that second wish to be inclusive enough to cover both topping and bottoming while not showing my hand too early.

For the final wish, I had the protag get really excited by his new life and then get constantly reminded and bogged down by the believable responsibilities and baggage he has as well as the cost and effort it would take to build that fame. All that came from a line from that Super Eyepatch Wolf video when he said that the best time to break into youtube was to do something years ago.

With that, wish three was the blanket wish to change everything in his life and fade to black.

For the story transition, I had the protagonist ‘wake up’ to his new life slightly confused, the same way one wakes up confused after a really good sleep. To keep the suspense and pacing consistent, I described the final scene bit by bit before all the pieces were revealed and the memories of his new life came back to him.

In describing the best of his new life, I placed the protagonist in the middle of a launch party for his new merch line while skipping all the effort it took working behind the scenes to make an operation like that successful.

The webcam part of the new backstory and the inclusion of the webcam is a nod to the modern-day ‘making it big’ as an internet celebrity.

Overall this was a nice light and fun story to write. If you couldn’t tell I was even able to indulge in the fantasy of being wildly famous within a hobby without doing any hard work. *** 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 your 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Author's Notes on A Thief’s Regret

Author’s Notes is a long-running series on my Patreon that covers my personal thoughts on my published stories. It includes writing tricks I used for certain scenes and how and why I set up my stories in a certain way. Going forward, I will publish Author’s 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 a story based on trade. The person wanted a story where a thief gets turned to stone and receives a ‘bad end’ at the hands of someone smashing him into bits, with no overt sexual moments. After confirming the aspect of the story, I was initially worried about the potential quality of the story since it seems outside of my writing wheelhouse.

After a bit of fretting about how to present this, I realized that I could write this through the lens of a normal horror story. Long-time readers know that I often draw inspiration for building suspense from how Lovecraft, King, and Stein composed their stories.

I was slightly stuck on how I was going to pull this off a convincing supernatural petrifaction, but thankfully I had Greek mythology. From that mythos, there was already a perfect monster I could use right out of the box for this.

Because everyone and their mother knows the snake and medusa trope, I decided to go one step removed and have the focus be on the aspect of one of her twin children, Pegasus.

On top of Medusa & Pegasus, I also wanted to pay homage to the other twin, Chrysaor, with the weapon of the golden hammer (golden sword in some of the original text).  I added another, even sneakier Greek reference with Argus, the one hundred-eyed giant, in the form of security cameras.

The actual story was for it to be a typical heist story that goes sour, followed by the mad dash to escape the encroaching danger.

For the actual petrifaction, to make it fearful I had to think and create rules of how the stone process would work on the body.

How would it affect clothes? How fast would it spread? Would it go straight up the arms or would it spread to any other part of the body it touched? Would there be movement or sensation from the stone?

Figuring out those answers, along with what I wanted the nameless thief to experience helped me define the threat in the world. This is why I paid attention to the restriction of movement of the wrists, arms, and elbows and how he would respond to that throughout his escape.

I realized when I started this story that, in order to really scare the reader and the thief, I had to be very particular about what words to describe the thief's reaction and levels of fear as he expressed when he discovered the effect began to spread throughout his body.  I knew the emotions had to be perfectly chosen and scale accordingly. I could not bust out the top shelf ‘horror’ and ‘terror’ adjectives too soon for this story.

For guidance on the escalation of fear, I looked to horror movies and realized that the characters were usually curious or confused about the threat at first before they became alarmed and terrified.

Fun Fact: I actually had a full piece of paper that had both all the adjectives for fear I knew of and the timeline of the raccoon's petrification. From there I organized the adjectives of fears from least to most and drew a line to the fitting part of the timeline and I think that really helped me not only set the pace of the story but make sure I did not go out of order with the increasing level of fear.

Another thing I was proud of was the small chances of hope I included at the end with the thief not only seeing the front door but when he saw that someone else was there that could help him. Then having both of those flickers of hope be dashed just before he could be saved.

This is where I introduced and switched the story spotlight to the antagonist, Patih, as he revealed that he knew about the statue’s legacy as he brandished that golden hammer I mentioned earlier. For Patih’s character interaction, I just envisioned comic book villain, Lex Luther. A rich and powerful person who’s seeking vengeance on some helpless nobody who wronged him.

I think the scariest line in this story was when the ‘maybe he could’ in regards to the mystery of if the raccoon was still alive when Paith was talking to him. It was such a powerful line from a narrator that I felt like it needed its own line of text.

For the destruction of the fully preferred raccoon, I wanted it to be as impactful as a punch from superman, with each strike having a powerful onomatopoeia and their own line of text dedicated to it in the story as the body parts got cleaved away. Following that other comic book beat down progression, the assault ended with a still standing but mostly destroyed statue surrounded by parts and debris. The whole thing crumbles down comes from one last precise knock, for this story it was right on the center of the forehead.

The story ended with the villain cleaning his weapon, commenting about the next time, and walking away after making notes about the mess from this night’s event.

I was really proud of how this story was not only able to take form but still deliver an impactful and emotional thrill for the reader. *** 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 your 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

June Story Poll 2025 Heads up

Happy Pride Month everyone! It’s time for another monthly update of what I have been working on and what’s coming up next: I just published an intense collaborative story earlier today. I have also drafted the Author’s Notes for the April Patreon story and I just finished drafting another collaborative story with another online person! That story involves some hypergrowth, and everything that comes with it, and ends up at a whopping ninety-nine pages of handwritten text. I still have another personal story, 86 pages of handwritten text, that I need to also work through typing and editing, along with the Author’s Notes on the Daddy Dungeon and the Magnus Archives horror story. My next drafting project will be cranking out the Macro May winning story prompt and getting that out in a timely manner, as well as publishing some of the Author’s Notes. As for the future, in celebration of Pride Month, and in response to the current environment of queer people in the States right now, I have decided to dedicate my energy to creating a very loud, colorful, and inclusive Pride story. I don’t want to spoil too much, but it involves a hesitant and shy POV protagonist who gets pulled into a body-painting booth at a Pride festival. I will be challenging myself to pull out all the stops to be as inclusive as I can with this story while still being fun. 

I still want to honor the commitment and feedback of my Patreon supporters and create a poll around what type of underpants the protagonist should be wearing through this ~colorful~ ordeal. The current options will be white briefs, boxers, or a cloth speedo-style thong. The link to the voting can be found right here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/june-story-poll-130741702

I also want to take this time and extend a call to arms to the general population as well: What inclusive pride flags, colors, designs, labels, or gender expressions would you want to see in this story?

One of my plans for this particular Pride story is to be a Marvel's Endgame of inclusive name drops.

Thank you all for the support.

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Topped by the Bottom

This story was created in collaboration with DiansArt Tayler the tipiet stepped out of his rented car and gave himself one more look over. He stood at an impressive eight feet in height, with a frame that made him imposing if he wanted to. Along with his stature, he was wearing his best shoes and a pair of designer blue jeans that was riding just low enough to show the elastic band of his red underpants underneath. His chest was almost completely bare, showing off the two toned fur pattern of blueish grey and white fur that covered his body as well as all the toned muscles that were just underneath. Resting on his pecs was a recently polished black chest harness with silver snap buttons that gleamed in the city’s evening lights. Tayler made sure that the harness sat in a way that it did not obscure the golden piercing on his left nipple. Tayler heard great things about this club and he made sure to move his schedule around to ensure he could have his fun before needing to get home the next day. While the business trip prevented Tayler from bringing his full outfit he was more than confident enough that he could still turn heads. Once he was satisfied with himself, the Tipiet righted himself and squared his shoulders as he strolled towards the entrance.

Even before being asked, Tayler flashed his ID to the moose in the black t-shirt and sunglasses. The bouncer took the card into his hand and waved a black light over it before he began to inspect the information on it.

His eyebrows lifted as he looked on and said, “A tipiet? We don’t see a lot of you fellas around here.” “Yup, a bit of a rare breed,” Tayler replied with a playful wink.

“Good enough,” the moose shrugged as he handed the ID back to Tayler and fastened a paper bracelet around Tayler’s wrist before moving to the side, “Enjoy your night. “Will do.~”

Once inside Tayler was able to fully assess what the club had to offer. It had a pretty typical layout, in the middle, there was a bar station staffed by a snazzily dressed red panda bartender serving drinks to the patrons. On one side of the bar was a crowded dance floor with a goat DJ overlooking the chaos as the music kept pumping. The other side of the club was a selection of tables, booths, and chairs where others were enjoying their drinks and company.

Taking a closer look at the occupants in the seating area, Tayler saw a tan-furred lynx, wearing nothing but a purple corset, with her matching knee-high heels placed on the booth seat next to her. The lynx was pressing her paws onto the face of an African Wild Dog that was lying on his back under the table. At the next one over, there was a blushing mustached dark grey bear with white highlights doing his best, and failing, to covertly watch the other two as he rubbed his groin through his pants. The tipiet smiled to himself and realized that he was exactly where he needed to be.

Tayler then set his jaw and headed over to the bar. He muscled his way into creating a spot and slammed his credit card as a way to get the bartender’s attention. The red panda, who had an engraved name tag on his breast pocket stating his name simply as, ‘Red’ took a moment to look over Tayler before asking, “What can I help you with?” “A michelada, and make it strong.” Red gave the tipiet a dis incredulous look before he took his card to open the tab. 

As the bartender went to work on the drink, Tayler cast his eyes over towards the dance floor. He took in the sights of folks from all walks of life dancing and grinding against each other, well almost everyone. Right in front of the DJ’s speakers, the tipiet spotted what looked like a highland cow dancing enthusiastically by himself. The cow had clean-cut brown fur with white splotches all over his body, with a mop of shaggy hair on his head and thick horns protruding from the side. At the end of his muzzle was a baby pink nose with a large gold nose ring looping through the septum. He was wearing a collar that held a brass bell and a fishnet shirt underneath an open varsity college jacket. Yet the real eye-catching part of his attire was what he had below the waist. The cow was sporting a simple jock that just barely fit him, not in the pouch but on the other side. The elastic bands on the back seemed to be stretched to their limits as it was pressed against an ass that was made by nature and plenty of squats.

Even from this distance, Tayler could tell from the way the cow was dancing that not only he was a bottom, and socially anxious, but he bought the outfit in the hopes it would boost his confidence. He saw it dozens of times at his hometown’s club scene and it was exactly his type. As the tipiet watched the cow on the dance floor, the fact that he was by himself became even more peculiar. It was not that the dancer did not have any friends with him but it looked like that everyone else on the dance floor was giving him a wide berth. Tayler’s attention was pulled back to his spot as the bartender placed his drink on the bar. He turned back to the red panda and grabbed his glass. “Hey, got any idea who that cow over there is?” Tayler asked, cocking his thumb behind him. Red’s eyes moved from the tipiet over the dance floor and widened as he realized who Tayler was talking about. 

“Oh, Derek? He’s a regular here. A bit of advice from the bartender, it’s best to avoid him, he’s… out of your depth.” Tayler barked out a laugh, “HA! Trust me, I’m plenty experienced” as he puffed out his chest. “Oh I’m sure you do,” Red said with only a hint of sarcasm, “but Derek is… different.” “Yeah? How so?” Tayler shot back, rising to the call. Seeing that the Tipiet was not going to back down, Red let out a sigh and leaned closer to him, “Rumor has it that he got himself some hypno tapes from the shadier side of the internet and it sort of caused him to be a bit screwy. He’s still him and nice as hell but we all kinda let him do his own thing and you should do the same.” Tayler was only half paying attention as he turned back on the cow dancing by himself. He was already licking his lips at all that untouched potential openly presenting itself. 

If he was going to only be in this city for one more day, why not go out and enjoy the local ‘flavor’?

With that, Tayler made up his mind. He turned back to the bartender and said, “You know what? I think I’ll take my chances,” as he downed his drink and placed it back on the table. Red just picked up the glass and added, “Best of luck, and if you are serious about dancing with him…. Don’t touch that bell around his neck collar.” The tipiet gave the red panda a dismissive wave as he walked away. With eyes locked on his target, Tayler stepped onto the dance floor and proceeded to bob, weave, and dance his way through the crowd. Once he got into the clearing he moseyed his way over to Derek and introduced himself by bumping up against the cow’s ass. Tayler enjoyed Derek’s startlement when he turned around to find someone actually dancing next to him. Even with the horns, Tayler was still a foot taller than Derek and this close up he also noticed that the inside of the bell on the cow’s collar was stuffed with what looked like a white tube sock.

The tipiet gave the cow a mischievous grin, leaned down, and, speaking over the DJ’s music, teased, “How now, brown cow?”

As Tayler spoke, he also made no effort to hide the fact that his eyes were lingering on Derek’s exposed ass. The highland cow blushed at the attention and began dancing with his new friend. From the top of the tipiet’s vision, he saw the goat DJ flinch from the interaction but he paid him no mind, Talyer had what he wanted.

They tried to exchange flirty comments but the DJ’s music drowned their words out, so they just let their bodies speak for themselves. While Derek was still reeling from Tayler’s bold initiation, the tipiet gladly took the reins on where to lead their physical conversation.

The two continued their dancing, fully enjoying the space given to them by the other club members. Tayler used the excess to cut loose and show off his more rambunctious dance moves to the easily amused cow. He relished the fact that all of the members on the dance floor had one eye on them. 

Derek was just enjoying the dedicated attention and returned the favor by trying to keep up with Tayler’s moves in his own clumsy off-beat way.

Tayler, now bolstered by the acceptance of the cow, quickly moved from the pleasantries of dancing to the more intimate moves of groping and grinding his cock in between Derek’s fat ass. He also made sure to make a show for the onlookers as he threw in a few unbashful spanks that could be heard over the music. Derek loved all of it and played into everything Tayler threw at him while making it clear that he was down for so much more. When it got to the point where dancing was no longer enough for either one, Talyer flashed Derek another smile and leaned in to stage whisper over the music, “You must be thirsty, why don’t I get you a drink?” The cow’s eyes lit up at that proposal and nodded eagerly. Tayler then brought his hand up to the front of Derek’s neck and grabbed the sock stuffed inside the bell with the intention of ‘dragging’ him to the bar. He did not anticipate how easily it came loose.

As his hands continued to pull away with the cloth in hand, Tayler saw the DJ’s eyes practically pop out of their sockets. The goat also pressed the emergency stop button, killing the music mid-beat as everyone on the dance floor took a sharp inhale.

Confusion dashed across Tayler’s mind as he noticed an abrupt change in the club’s atmosphere. Yet his eyes remained on the still dancing Derek, his movements caused the bell to swing as the now-freed clapper collided with the inside wall.

DING DING DING. The sound of the bell rang out crystal clear against the stunned silence of the club. From behind a staff member dropped his tray and bolted through a door labeled ‘staff only’.

The first thing that Tayler noticed was the eyes.

Derek’s eyes went wide and distant, his jaw slacked, and his arms fell to the sides as his body gently rocked back and forth.

Tayler was about to turn back to the crowd to figure out what was happening but some primal part of the tipiet’s brain snapped his attention back to the highland cow and alerted him that Derek was inflating.

No, inflate was not the right word for this.

Derek still stayed the same physical size, he just began to unfold. While still standing still, he straightened his spine, drawing himself up to his full height. He also leveled his head, setting his vacant sights straight ahead. Derek then rolled his shoulders in place, unhunching them, followed by his diaphragm also expanding out, pressing his chest against his varsity jacket. The whole action gave the illusion that he was filling out his body with some untapped reservoir of confidence.

The transformation ended with Derek slowly bringing his head up to meet Tayler’s perplexed face. He blinked to refocus and then looked Tayler dead in the eyes, the assertiveness he now had in his gaze as startling.

He then gave Tayler a once over, smirked, and then proclaimed, “Nah, I’m not done dancing with you yet.” It was the same voice Derek had before, but this time the one had an unquestionable edge to it.

The highland cow then snapped his head back to the DJ and barked, “Hey, What are they paying you for? Play some music!”

The goat complied and the club was soon filled with music again.

Tayler’s mind was going a mile a minute trying to wrap his head around the sudden development. Yet his train of thought was suddenly derailed as Derek grabbed Tayler’s extended hand, which held the sock, and spun him around. Just like that, they were back to dancing in the middle of the crowd of watchful members.

This time around, Derek was taking the lead. His movements became more purposeful as he continued to radiate direction. Now that his bell was no longer impeded, it rang out just as unapologetically as the cow’s dancing. 

To Tayler’s credit, he did try to keep up with his dance partner but Derek’s actions were quickly getting too much to handle and it slowly became clear that he was losing control of the dynamic between them. Derek kept putting on the pressure and directed him where to go as everyone steered clear of the steer.

After a few more moments of ‘dancing’, the tipiet was backed up against the wall. Once there, Derek pivoted and began pressing and grinding his ass against the tipiet’s groin, pinning him in place.

Responding to the sudden change, Tayler leaned into this development by counter-grinding against the cow and throwing in a few more powerful spanks, which only fueled Derek’s actions even more. After a while, when it was clear that even with all going on Derek’s recently unbridled desire was still not satisfied. The cow bent down and delivered a deep full cheek thrust against Tayler’s hips while bringing the rest of his body up to press against his dance partner. Derek looked up as he spoke directly into Tayler’s ear, “Enough teasing, let's see what that meat of yours can actually do.~” Tayler could hardly process what Derek had just said, the highland cow a powerful booty bump and bounced off of him. He used the momentum to spin around and drop to his knees while bringing his hands up the tipiet’s waist in one fluid motion. In a blink of an eye, Derek undid Tayler’s belt buckle and zipper and reached in to grab his junk, pulled them up, and let it flop over the elastic of his underpants. Tayler’s dick was as impressive as the rest of him and it certainly backed up his cocky demeanor. It was long, thick, black, and glistening in precum with a hefty set of balls hanging underneath.

“Damn,” Derek said as he clasped his hands together and began rubbing them, “I felt that you were packing down there but I didn’t think it would be this big!” He then looked up at Tayler and licked his lips as he proclaimed, “Oh I'm going to have a good night with this~”

The highland cow then opened his mouth and rolled his thick bovine tongue out. He brought his tongue up and pressed it against the tip of Tayler’s dick and began to run it down the top of the shaft. Once Derek got to the balls, he circled around and lightly juggled the pair with his tongue before he pulled it back up on the underside of the dick. When he got back to the head, Derek moved his mouth closer and started to actually give Tayler a blowjob.

Tayler just shuddered in pleasure from the sudden sensory bombardment. ‘Fuck this guy’s a pro at this,’ he thought to himself, ‘I wonder why no one else wanted to dance with him.’

It was here where Tayler’s common sense finally caught up to him. The tipiet whipped his head up and scanned the dance floor for both the other’s reactions to this brazen act as well as for any staff members. This was still just his first time here, but this place did not seem like a place that would allow members to be this bold in public. To his surprise, no one was disgusted by the scene and none of the staff members moved to interrupt what was going on. If anything the ones that were looking at him had a general sense of at ease, as well as a trace of pity. Since no one was objecting, Tayler decided to just roll with it and see where it could go. He steadied his stance, raised his arms and crossed them behind his head as he tried to enjoy the moment within the crowd. As much as Tayler enjoyed the surprise blowjob, he quickly realized that the cow was carrying it now to not give, or even enjoy the pleasure of the act. It seemed like he was just racing to get Tayler to completion.

When it got to the point of getting too close, Tayler tried to bring his hand down on top of the cow’s head, to indicate a change in tempo. As he did that, Derek’s hand shot up and slapped it away. On the pullback, Derek shot a glare up at Tayler as he continued sucking. The primal part of his brain decoded the message, “I will not be interrupted.”

Tayler accepted the message. He then resumed his stance with his arm behind his head, trying to save face in front of the crowd, and trying to enjoy the ride.

Not long after that, Tayler’s dick began to twitch, signaling that it was about to blow. Derek picked up the tell as well because he stopped the blowjob just before Tayler could cross the point of no return. With one last lingering pull back of his mouth up the tipiet’s shaft, he concluded the blowjob with a sloppy kiss on his head, sucking up the remaining bit of precum as he looked up at Tayler.

While maintaining eye contact, Derek rose to his feet and pressed his body against Tayler as he said, “You think I’m just going to allow you to blow your load in my mouth? Where’s the fun in that?~”

Derek then pulled himself back and made a show of fishing in his varsity jacket pocket and pulling out a small bottle. He slowly popped the cap with one hand and turned it over to pour a thin ribbon of lube on top of Tayler’s dick as his other hand reached down and started stroking it, spreading it around. During the performance, Tayler was still trying to wade through the haze of pleasure that he had just been subjected to. ‘No way this little timid cow is going to be that bold’ he thought to himself.

Once the tipiet’s dick was fully coated, Derek twirled around and jutted his ass out. He then twists his body to be able to grab Tayler’s dick as well as give Tayler a knowing side-eye. He then repositioned himself and fed the dick right between the crevice of his huge cheeks, lining the tip against the opening of his asshole.

‘He can't possibly try to fuck me right here, without any warm-up.’ Derek read the astonished look on Tayler’s face and chuckled as he readjusted the bell on his collar, “What? You wanted to dance… we did it your way, not it’s my turn to dance my way.” Before Tayler could open his mouth to reply, Derek pulled his hips out a fraction of an inch before ramming himself onto Tayler.

WHAM! DING DING DING. The sound of both the impact and Derek’s bell rang clear in Tayler’s ears but he barely recognized it. His brain was too preoccupied with processing the physical sensation he just received. Along with Derek slamming him back against the wall and his fat ass colliding against his waist, his asshole took in Tayler’s entire cock in one smooth motion.

The combination of all those things practically knocked the breath out of him. Tayler barely had the time to recover as Derek placed his hands on his knees and began to pull himself out again only to immediately slam his ass back onto Tayler. Derek was merciless with this execution and made it clear that he had no interest in any feedback that Tayler had on the matter.

The sound of the bell rang out with every backward thrust onto Tayler, filling his ears as his vision blurred from the flurry of blows. All he could do was keep his hands clear of the impact area.

After a few more backward thrusts, Derek found his tempo and let out a satisfied, “Fuck yeah, this is what I need” as he ran his dry hand through his moppy hair.

All around them, the rest of the club watched on as the DJ still continued to play his music. Some of the members resumed their dancing while the others who were more bold, decided to move towards the edge of the clearing to get a better look. None of the club staff lifted a finger. Any reputation that Tayler had built for himself tonight went straight out the window as he was publicly demoted to being a wall-mounted dildo for Derek. Time seemed to escape from Tayler as he tried to both remain upright and stay mentally afloat from the torrent of sensations around him. Even in the pandemonium, some part of the tipiet was able to enjoy the fact that his cock was kept receiving full body strokes by the cow’s insides and soon it began to ready itself to blow again. Derek noticed, turned his head back, and chided, “Ready to pop so soon? Let’s hope those balls can deliver… Just letting you know, I have high expectations.~” Without missing a beat in his hip movements, Derek reached his lube-covered hand down between his legs and expertly caught Tayler’s balls as he slammed back into him. He then closed his palm around the tipiet’s nuts and began to toy with them as he continued riding him.

Tayler tried to fight down the urge to orgasm, if only to maintain some semblance of control in this situation but it was just too much to deal with. The tipiet scrunched up his face as his body betrayed him as it started to convulse as he let out a defeated moan. Reading Tayler’s reaction, Derek slammed his ass back, making him fully hilted right as his plaything climaxed. 

Stars flashed before Tayler’s eyes as he felt his dick shoot its load deep into Derek.

“Oh, there it is!” Derek proclaimed with depraved satisfaction as he held the position.

The cow kept Tayler pinned against the wall and proceeded to grind against his hip as he started clenching his asshole. Derek did everything in his power to make sure that he got every last drop inside of him. Once he made absolutely sure that there was nothing left, he pulled himself forward and allowed the tipiet’s spent dick to come sliding out. Tayler remained plastered against the wall, drenched in sweat and sucking down air now that he had been freed. He was about to count his blessing that it was finally over when he saw Derek’s hand reach out towards him and grab the strap of his chest harness. The tipiet was then peeled from the wall and pulled to his feet. Derek pulled him closer and said, “So… about that drink?~” The cow then dragged the still-reeling Tayler off of the dance floor and over towards the bar. He did not even grant the tipiet the dignity of putting his cock away.

Once at the counter, Derek barked out, “Two rum and colas, double for both and put it on this guy’s tab.” He then continued to pull Tayler away as he shouted back, “Once they are ready, have them be sent to the tables.” Red just gave a quiet nod and began to prepare the drinks. Derek arrived at the seated section and scanned the area, at this time of night there were no available spots but that did not stop him. The cow brought his attention to the dark grey bear sitting by himself at a booth, trying to enjoy the club scene while doing his best not to make eye contact with the highland cow. Derek marched over to the bear who was currently trying to feign attention at something on the far wall. “Move.” With that one word, the facade crumpled. The bear mumbled out some sort of excuse as he quickly shuffled off and fled. Derek just regarded the interaction with a smug grunt before he turned back to the table. He brought his foot up, placed it on the edge of the table and in one powerful move, he pushed it away. Once the sofa booth was no longer obscured, he spun Tayler around and threw him in such a way that his ass would land right in the middle.

By now Tayler regained enough wits about him to bring his eyes up to look at Derek, who was now looming over him. From the corner of his vision, the tipiet saw someone who looked like the club’s busboy bravely carrying over a tray that held two glasses. Derek grabbed the drinks, one in each hand, and Tayler witnessed the cow down one in a single go. He placed the empty one back onto the tray and dismissed the staff with a gesture, which he eagerly obeyed. With the other glass in hand, Derek shifted his full gaze back onto his dance partner, “I'm going to make sure that I squeeze every last load out of you for the rest of the night.”

Before Tayler could even muster up a response, Derek turned around, flashing the tipiet a view of his ass as he came crashing down onto his lap.

Derek was true to his word. He stayed seated on top of Tayler, enjoying his drink and grinding his ass against the tipiet until he felt the dick begin to get erect again. Once it was hard enough, he reached under him and slid it back into his asshole. Derek then proceeded to bounce upon Tayler until he was able to get another climax out of him before getting up and bringing his dance partner to a different part of the club. For the rest of the night, Derek made sure that Tayler was always within arms reach. Between loads, Tayler was Derek’s arm candy as he was paraded around every corner of the club and ‘buying’ the cow drinks. Yet any time it looked like the tipiet’s cock recovered enough to go another round, Derek could jump on the opportunity and make sure that every last drop would be deposited in his ass.

As the night went on, Derek had to get more creative on how to coax out additional orgasms from Tayler. That ranged from Derek planting Tayler’s face into his pits as he rode him off to recruiting some of the braver club goers to engage in some public body worship of the tipiet.

For Tayler, everything just blurred together countless cycles of pleasure, orgasm, and exhaustion. Eventually, 2 am rolled around as the owner’s voice came over the intercom system, “Alright everyone, the club is officially closed.” 

Something within that sentence must have been a hypnotic trigger for Derek because froze for a moment. He then began to ‘deflate’ as a confused look grew on his face. Once he collected his old self, he looked down at the now thoroughly drained tipiet. Looking at Tayler, Derek’s face began to redden as he said in the same meek voice from the beginning, “OH NO! It happened again!” He then carefully cupped the cowbell around his neck in his hands. The cow then made his way out of the door, joining the crowd of late-night stragglers and leaving Tayler collapsed on the sofa where he had been for the last hour.

The tipiet stayed like that until the house lights came on and the staff began their clean up. He only moved when Red, the red panda bartender, came over to him and lent him a hand to help him get back onto his feet.

Once Tayler could prove that he was able to stand on his own, Red handed back his credit card, with an impressively long recipient wrapped around it, and a complimentary bottle of water for his travels. As Tayler staggered out, he heard the bartender say, “ I told you to be careful. Mess with the bull, you get the horns.”

*** 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: https://www.patreon.com/RiTFaC

[redinthefaceandcheeks]

Patreon Suggested Story: April 2025

This story topic was voted on by the wonderful Avid Readers on my Patreon! For April's poll the winning story prompt was ‘Collar and leash'. Your handler turned his car and smoothly pulled into the parking spot. The two of you unbuckled and stepped out into the glorious spring day as you two made your way over to the park to join in the festivities. The public park was rented out to host its first kink-friendly pop-up marketplace. An event where local vendors and creators from all over can sell their goods in the open within the privacy of a walled off area.

The local club organized and lobbied for it and after a lot of permits, they were able to get approved by the local government.

To celebrate its debut, your handler was sporting a new biker outfit of a black leather jacket, matching leather pants, and heavy-duty boots. You on the other hand were wearing sneakers, simple jeans, and a graphic design t-shirt that just had a stylized, yet subtle, logo of your favorite online gear store on the front.

While you had nothing else, your handler had a cloth tote bag in his hand which he made it painfully clear that he was coyly hiding the contents from you. As you walked next to him you could hear the muffled sound of jingling.

The pop-up event was easy enough to spot, it took up the majority of the park’s area and was surrounded by tall temporary walls. The walls were black with red sentenced text spray painted along each section, “The Day-Night Market. Valid ID required to enter.” Both the entrance and exit had a small ‘S shaped’ hallway, to ensure that no one who did not want to catch a glimpse of the inside. You and your handler approached the entrance and presented your IDs to the staff. He looked at you, nodded in approval, and provided you with a paper bracelet to wrap around your wrist. When he looked over your handler, he stated that he needed to look through his tote bag. Your handler approached and purposefully turned his back to you as he opened it up for the staff member to inspect. You heard the sound of metal jingling again, as the staff member chuckled and asked a question under his breath. Your handler replied in the same hushed voice. He then made a show of closing the tote bag before he extended his arm for the bracelet. Once fully cleared the staff member moved to the side and allowed you two to enter. After snaking through the privacy entrance, you were greeted to the sight of a truly bizarre bazaar. There were three rows of booths, starting at the nearest wall and taking up about half of the real lot. There were the typical leather and latex kink vendors but plenty of local artists had their artworks on display, whether that be t-shirts, bags, trinkets, stickers, prints, or books. Filling the rows were people of all sorts in different outfits, wandering around either examining the inventory or talking to the owners.

The remainder of the space was divided into three segments. On the far end and yet closest to you, a few food trucks were perfuming the air with their cooking.

The middle segment had picnic tables with people eating their food and socializing with others and the remaining section was dedicated to a small handful of park games, seasoned with a bit of kink.

While you have been experienced enough to have seen all of these things in one form or another, having them all be laid out under the light of the sunny spring day made everything feel more… taboo. You were about to make your way down the first row of booths when your handler shot his arm out, catching you in the chest.

“Whoa, buddy.~”

You turned your head back to your handler who had a mischievous grin on his face. He then held up the cloth bag and began to open it as he added, “You’re not decent yet.” 

He pulled out some neoprene that you knew intimately and handed it to you. There was no need for him to say anything else. You took the pup hood from him and slid it over your head. You savored the smell of the synthetic rubber as the material clung all around your head. You adjusted the pup hood on your face before you stood at attention and looked back at your handler as you let out a playful, “Wuff!” “That’s a good start but you’re not done yet,” your handler added as he pulled out your collar. This was one of the plain, yet sturdy, cloth with a black plastic buckle and a metal loop at the front.  Dangling from the loop was a cheap metal dog tag that had your pup name engraved on it. It was one of the first collars you ever bought, got both up at an actual pet store years ago.

Your handler tucked the tote bag underneath his armpit and presented the collar to you as he held the ends in each hand.

In response, you held your hands behind your back, leaned forward, and allowed your handler to step closer and fasten the collar around your neck. You heard the click behind you and your handler let go and stepped back to get another good look at you. As he appraised you with affection, you felt compelled to wiggle your bottom in response. Now with both on, you were about to turn back to explore the Day-Night Market when your handler stopped you again. “Ah Ah ah~” he playfully chided as he thematically fished around the bottom of the near empty tote bag, as you heard the jingling again, louder and unimpeded by the neoprene and cloth.

“You know the park rules, all dogs need to be leashed.” He then pulled out a bundle of chains and your breath was caught in your throat.

It was a metal chain leash and unlike the collar, this was actual BDSM gear. It was about two and a half feet in length, with one end sporting a traditional snap leash clasp while the other had a black leather hand strap.

He must have recently bought it behind your back because he never used it with you before. While the leash itself was nothing special in its design the way the sunlight caught on the chains caused your brain to light up. You just stood there, transfixed as your handler deliberately unfurred the chain leash in front of you and then stepped forward once more to attach it to your collar. You waited until your handler straightened back up and brought his end of the leash up to in front of your eyes.  

“Now you’re ready for walkies~,” he said with a smirk, adding a jingle for emphasis. Your handler then readied his arm in place, turned back towards the market, and began to walk. He moved with such purpose that it was imminently clear that you would be going with him, it would just be your choice if you were walking behind him or if you were going to be dragged.

Your legs sprung into action as you followed behind him through the rows of vendors. Even without saying another word on the matter, your handler made it clear that he was in charge of the pace and direction of this walk. He was also the sole decider of where to stop and what to look at.

You were resigned to being the passive observer in this scene. Despite the confined area of the actual market space, your handler made the most of it. He snaked around the aisles and stopped at every booth to stretch out the moment as much as he reasonably could. 

As he did he conducted himself as if nothing was out of sorts, he just went around to look over every shop and make pleasant small talk to the owners with only a slight exaggeration of amical interest. You just stood behind him, far enough to see the chain swing from the bottom of your vision.

He never once acknowledged the dynamic that he placed on you with anyone else and none of the shopkeepers asked. The contrast between his casual composure and the social restraints that he placed on you made the scene just so much more taboo.

The only time that your handler would address you was when he found something that was related to you. During those times he would turn to you to show it off and ask about your thoughts in that playful voice he used only for pupplay sessions.

“What do you think of this one?” “Oh, lookie here…. this is kinda like what you have at home, isn’t it?” “Isn’t this a nice color?”

In turn, you would only answer back in barks; one for yes, two for no. From that, your handler was able to pick up a few new art pieces and a couple of trinkets which he used the tote bag to hold them all in. He also bought you a handmade leather dog bone-shaped pillow just for you to play with later, which you were very excited about.

Towards the end of the market exploration, you and your handler ran into some friends from the club. Your handler took the lead and conversed with the two of them as you stood off to the side.

As they all chatted, your mind started to wander. Your eyes gravitated towards a booth that had a bucket of rubber duckies, each modified to be in various kink outfits.

You were just about to politely peel away from the group when you received a stern yank. You whipped your head back around to see your handler shooting you a warning glace. You stayed by your handler’s side for the rest of the conversation. Once your handler was done, he headed over to the live attractions in the back corner of the walled off area. The activities were just as varied as the booth and each one had its own kinky twist.

A popular pony play company donated some horse dildos and horseshoes to create a game of horseshoes for the public. Next to that, were a couple of sets of cornhole boards with beanbags, each board was artfully decorated with a local artist’s lovely, and fitting, tribute to Tom of Finland’s legacy.

Upon the portable stage was a female harlequin, in full makeup. She was working the crowd by cracking jokes, using her seltzer bottle, and creating lewd creations out of balloons.

In the spirit of the festivities your handler wanted to try his hand at everything, so you stood next to him as he played every single game. You tried to be entertained but it was difficult to concentrate on anything when your mind drifted away, choosing to focus on the sights, smells, and the eventual taste of the dishes at the food truck.

Your handler must have noticed how your face kept turning towards that end of the park, as well as the fidgeting you were doing as you stood in place, and most definitely the not so quiet whines you made whenever someone walked by with their plate.

Your handler milked his last game before he finally turned to you and said, “How about some chow?~” You wuffed in excitement and practically dragged him past the crowded picnic tables towards the food vendors. You brought him to the burger line and waited with mouth-watering anticipation until you got to the front.

Your handler placed his order and through barking at his questions, you were able to place your order. Your handler humored you and also threw in an order of funnel cake to share for dessert. Once the food was ready, your handler grabbed the tray and carefully made his way back towards the table section. Most of them were occupied but your handler was able to find a spot for one on the edge of one of the benches.

He sat down and without giving it another thought, you moved to the free space next to him and crouched down on all fours. You then brought your hands closer to you as angled your bent knees outwards and straightened your spine to bring yourself into a sitting position. You turned your head back towards your handler as he dug into his lunch. You watched on in agony, eyes flipped between the food moving from your handler’s plate to his mouth and the untouched plate of still steaming meal that was yours.

When he was done, he dramatically dabbed his face clean with a napkin before he finally acknowledged you. “You must be so hungry, aren’t you?”  he said in the same playful voice.

You gave an affirming ‘bark’ in response as your eyes locked in on your food as your hands pitter patterned against the ground in excitement. You then saw your handler slowly turn back your plate, deliberately tore off a bite-sized chunk of your lunch with his hand and brought it down to your level. You wanted to gobble the food right there and then.

Yet you remembered your training and held yourself back. You instead gently took the food out of his hand and carefully ate it, making sure not a morsel dropped onto the ground. 

“Aww, how do you like it?” he said as he went back to tear off another chunk.

You gave a grateful doggy vocalization as an answer as you chewed. There you two stayed, your handler presenting you bite sized pieces of your lunch under the clear sunny sky followed by hand feeding you the remaining half of the funnel cake. It was bliss. At the last bite, your handler indulged you by keeping his hand extended to allow you to lick his fingers clean. Once the two of you were done, he pulled away and proceeded to dry off his hand with a napkin. He then focused on collecting all the trash in one hand while he absentmindedly jostled the leash to get your attention with the other. On instinct, you leaned forward and proceeded to walk on all fours as you accompanied your handler to the closest trash can.

Once your handler discarded everything he looked behind him, only to be met with confusion. He looked down at this hand and followed the leash further down to make eye contact with you.

You tilted your head to the side to match his expression. Then a genuine smile grew across your handler’s face. “You know, it’s such a beautiful day that I think we’re going to stay a bit longer,” he finally said, “I want to do another lap of the stalls… and I believe the next performer is going to come on at the top of the hour.” You let out an automatic ‘wuff’ and you wagged your rear as you then followed your handler back towards the booths.

Because you are a very good dog. ***

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