Bandit’s Lair

Cool air blew onto his face as the inspector drove through the bleak, sun scorched hellscape. Even with the protective coating on the windshield, the sun’s never ending assault right in his face was irritating. The inspector glanced at the thermometer. 126 C, below the lav-van’s max. With any luck, he’d make it to his destination before a solar flare drove the daylight side into the hundreds for days, if not weeks.

The radio dispatch hissed as it switched to the outlander’s satellite mode. Begrudgingly, he also switched the radio news off the local station with its limited area and to the vastly inferior satellite planetary news station. Inspector Gonzalez despised the surface level, tragedy focused nature of the planetary news station, but it couldn’t be helped. While Starsis only had a population in the few tens of millions, about 23.7 if memory served, creating a new program that covered all the twilight cities and the outlands let only the most sensational of stories make the waves. He didn’t have much of a choice out here.

Slight differences in the landscape made the lav-van ebb and flow as it maintained it’s exact 0.32 meter distance from the lifeless ground. The lav-van’s contents swayed and creaked in the main cabin as Gonzalez finally saw the tall sunshade.

His destination was a small abandoned mining town near the edge of the day-side outlands. Set up to mine some exotic ore, it had run dry some 15 years past. With no other reason to maintain the town, the inhabitants up and left for richer prospects taking anything of value with them. All that remained was the towering triangular sunshade that reflected most of the sun’s harsh rays back into space, the habi-dome and dock that maintained livable atmosphere and temperature, the dozen or so buildings to simulate life, and junk. At least, that’s what everyone thought.

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Himbo Jailbreak

Arnold, or Arny as he’d begrudgingly gone by for years, rechecked his notes for the upcoming presentation. A bigwig was going to be in today for a spot review of the facility and part of that included a review of his work in re-domesticating the troublesome bull Augy.

Augy had entered the facility as a captive from a breakaway herd out west. Since day one he’d been nothing but trouble. At the best of times he could be mildly cooperative, following orders that his slow bull brain managed to understand would get him something he wanted. The rest of the time, he was a lost cause.

Throughout his experiments, or more accurately described as trial and error, Arny had only found one trick to keep the troublesome wild bull placated. That being a constant supply of cows so that he may fuck himself into a post nut stupor. The primary problem? How the hell was he supposed to re-domesticate this bull if the only think keeping him from rampage was a constant stream of what should be rewards!

This assignment had been nothing but a white elephant from the beginning for Arny.

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Creating a Dom

Dull light filled the room, its only source being a lone computer monitor. A hint of red glowed from the microphone on the desk. The clicking of a mouse with an occasional keystroke were the only noise routinely heard.

“You are an alpha man.” Eiion repeated the only line he’d said for the last hour. Painstakingly, he was attempting to ensure it was perfect. Getting the right cadence, tone, rhythm, and pitch took many trials and just as many errors. Finally, he’d gotten it exactly how he wanted.

A knock on the door roused Eiion from his work. Before responding, he expertly switched tabs to his usual FPS of choice that he’d play with friends online. Today, though, he was in a single player match, not that a casual observer would know the difference. He unpaused the game and beckoned his caller forth.

The caller opened the door and stepped just inside. “Babe? It’s after two. Are you coming to bed?” He was average in almost every way. Average height, average weight, average musculature, average intelligence, average demeanor. The only area he wasn’t average was his cock. Rather than the bullshit most guys spew to boost their fragile egos, he was actually packing seven plus inches in his pants. Inches Eiion adored when he could coax the lust out of his boyfriend.

Eiion responded without breaking eye contact with the screen, channeling what little remained of his years in high school theatre. “Let me finish up this match and I’ll join you, Kev.”

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Button

Jose was a bright young man of just 23 and was beaming with youthful ambition. Finishing top of his class at a top university in his field, his academic prowess could not be denied. It shocked no one when he was quickly snatched up by one of the top mechanical engineering firms in the country on a very enviable starting salary.

He was never an anti-social young man. Jose had many friends all throughout university that he would meet with and tutor regularly. Public speaking or anything that involved being put on a pedestal did terrify him. Despite his large intellect, he remained humble. Jose’s physical attributes ensured that.

Standing at six foot six, his height was that every girl dreamed of. His face was boyish but was starting to show the mature stylings of an attractive man with a square jaw. Brown hair naturally curled on his head that reached down to his eyebrows in a cute mop. Brown eyes, bright with intelligence, analyzed the world while his skin looked naturally sun kissed during winter.

While tall and possessing handsome features, he lacked any real muscle definition. In his arms, one could easily identify his humerus, ulna, and radius. The same applied to his legs. His ribs were not visible, but not for the reason he would have liked. Years of study and very poor diet produced a gut that did not appear to be slowing down in its growth.

With the signing bonus from his new job, young Jose was able to make the downpayment on a small townhouse in the ‘cheaper’ part of town. The demands of such a high skill job and the pressure to prove himself immediately made the move in process very slow. After six months, he was still living out of boxes. As luck would have it, he finally had a free weekend to try catching up.


Pressing the phone between his head and shoulder, Jose talked while building his bedframe. “I know, I know. It’s been months since we hung out, but this is my first weekend and I’m tired of living out of boxes. Plus, how am I supposed to bring a date home when I sleep on a bare mattress on the floor?” He tightened the last bolt and stood up. “Meet up tonight? I’ll think about it. Can’t make any promises though, I’ll likely be exhausted. Let me know when the next time comes, ok?”

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Drone Insemination

The drone left its normal waiting spot and approached the Boss. Boss looked up from his work both annoyed and intrigued. The drone never left its waiting spot without his direct permission. 

Boss, Drone is ready to inseminate.”

“Interesting.” Boss pondered this turn of events. The more he thought about it, the more he could use an extra set of holes… or, uh, hands around the place. Speaking to no one but himself, he proposed “I’ll need to set up another job posting.”


Matt restlessly sat in his car parked outside of a small house on the edge of town. A bead of sweat got caught on his eyebrow as his gut continued twisting itself into a tighter knot. Attempting to stay calm, he nevertheless reflected on what brought him here.

He’d completed his master’s degree six months ago but scored barely low enough to get rejected from every doctoral program in the nation. Finding work related to his field proved just as difficult. Who knew it would be so hard to get a job with a master’s in astrophysics. The grace period on his large student loans was nearly up and he needed good money fast.

A notification lit up his phone and Matt sighed. It was time to go in for his interview. An interview for a position he never thought he would ever apply to.

Lightly, he knocked on the front door. Matt’s mind was torn as he did so. Half of him wished no one would answer and that he could return to academia. The more rational half pleaded with whatever deity was up there that the door would open.

His half-minded prayers were answered as the door opened to reveal a tall burly man. “You must be Matt, come on in.” He stepped aside and motioned Matt forth. He closed the door and directed Matt into the kitchen. “You can call be Boss. As you can see, we’re a small business that largely does contract work with some bigger ones.” Boss pointed to a char and Matt sat down.

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Himbo Containment Squad

“Private” Robert Curry let the barrel of his M16 sway between his legs as he laid his head back. He did his best to ignore the swaying and bouncing of the specially modified van as it moved to their destination. The intelligence report he’d been issued indicated that the winter snow had finally receded to beyond their destination, but the road was still a trail of mud.

Curry was attempting to complete his pre-mission meditation despite the occasional nausea, but it was getting the better of him. “Private” was a bit of a misnomer. Curry entered the Army right out of high school, having signed up his junior year. His athletic ability, dedication, and willingness to follow orders earned him a spot in special forces where he served two tours. If the pay wasn’t shit, he wouldn’t have gone private.

Unable to meditate, he relented to think about the mission. It was almost unheard of for the group to conduct an operation in America herself, but Sarge told him that the client had done it a few times before. Still, the normalness made Curry a little uneasy.

The driver leaned over his shoulder to address the passengers. “ETA 3 minutes.”

Curry picked up his rifle and gave a quick once over to ensure he was ready. Helmet with night vision, check. Uncomfortable bullet proof plate vest, check. Sidearm, check. Bear spray and club, check. He was ready.

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Worker Drone

Outside, early spring was in the air. The gradually increasing temperature had already begun its annual jihad against the forces of snow, leaving a battleground of slush in its wake. Birds began their chirping as the grip of winter finally subsided.

Eiion was uncomfortably working in the garage of his new boss. He was the most recent, and first, hire of a small construction contractor. The real work would begin in a week or so when their next contract finally started. Understanding a lack of income was difficult, Eiion’s boss graciously offered him a few hours pay to clean up and sort through the tools in his garage.

The work itself was fine, Eiion was a strong young man who knew his way around power tools. It was the temperature that produced the degree of uncomfortableness. While the garage was heated, the furnace only had two modes, on and off. Despite the cool weather outside, Eiion was sweating.

He was sorting through a box, loading the contents into various tool storage devices, when he bumped into something. That something was a tower of boxes he hadn’t yet tackled, and the disturbance caused the top box to fall. Instantly, shattering glass brought Eiion to attention.

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Himbo Volunteer

A cool late winter breeze shook some snow off the trees, creating an illusion. Trees ached in relief at the lessened weight. Fresh powder reflected the sunlight driving back the shadows.

Carl stomped his way up the logging road. His snowshoes kept him above the snow, greatly aiding in his efforts. However, the weight and cold were quickly taking hold and draining his energy fast. With any luck, he’d soon find what he was looking for. Looking forward to living a dream, he pressed forward up the road.

Carl hugged the inner treeline as he walked around a curve when he spotted some optimism. Less than a hundred yards away resided some disturbances in the snow. Revitalized, he pushed forward. Each step was still difficult but much more doable.

He approached the disturbances to discover that they were exactly what he’d hoped for. Deep tracks, almost trenches, crossed through the snow. To wide, deep, and consistent for any animal active this time of year. But for a himbo, it was likely. Eager to find the heard, he jumped into the trench and started following it, hoping to find the source.


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The Smell of Ty

Content Warning

The following story contains themes and language some readers may not find acceptable. These include musk, complete domination, and derogatory language. If you find any of this to be not to your liking, may I suggest you checkout my catalog.


Mark strolled through the doorway of the small, detached house he owned. ‘Own’ is a relative term here. The bank owned it and he was paying the mortgage. A few months prior and this distinction would have been irrelevant to Mark; after getting laid off, this distinction was critical. No more could he pay the full bill on the greatly reduced income he was making in the gig economy. Cuts had to be made.

The specific cut was currently lounging on the couch playing the latest FPS in what appeared to be the same workout clothes he’d left in this morning. Named Tyler, or Ty as he insisted, the cut Mark had to make was giving up his home office and letting someone rent the room.

Ty had only been living there a couple of days, but already he was making his presence known. While they each had their own rooms, the bathroom, living room, and kitchen were shared. In none of these places was Ty greedy in his allocation of space but the sudden cramptness was jarring to a man who’d been living solo up until now.

Stepping out of the mud room, the primary area of Ty’s encroachment hit Mark like a brick wall. An oppressive wall of stench assaulted Mark’s olfactory as his eyes watered. “Jesus Christ!” he yelled out as his watery vision began to clear. “Did you not shower after work, Tyl…Ty!” Mark corrected himself before his new roommate would comment.

Without breaking eye content with the TV, Ty lifted his arm and sniffed his pit. “Guess not, oh well. Not that bad bro.”

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Changing Whisper

The sound of a car crashing into another filled the room, followed by sirens in the distance. Week old pizza boxes were pilled on the coffee table as empty mountain dew bottles litter the floor. The blinds are closed tight, blocking all light from entering.

Ted opened the door to his apartment and was assaulted by the wall of stench. Immediately, he dropped his bag and stepped further inside. While walking to the far side of the room, he spoke. “Jesus Elijah, did you leave at all this week?” Reaching a window, he threw the blinds and opened the window.

“Fuck that’s bright! Oh, hey Ted.” Elijah paused the game and scratched his head, thinking. “I think I checked the mail once while you were gone.”

Cold air blew into the room, clearing out the funk. Ted stood there, exhausted. “What happened to that hike? Y’know, the one you swore you’d do during your week off.” A week with his high-energy family had worn him down physically and returning to Elijah’s slobishness was doing the same mentally.

“D’know. Didn’t feel like it I guess.” Elijah was done with the conversation. He turned away from Ted and unpaused his game, filling the room with noise.

Ted was starting to get highly annoyed. “Let’s go hit the gym, bro.” With any luck, he’d be able to work of the numerous calories before they stuck around.

“Don’t wanna.”

This made Ted angry. He was attempting to help Elijah be healthier, possibly get laid, and definitely not die young. The anger finally got to Ted. He threw his voice into an unusual tone and cadence. “Come with me to the gym.

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