Staring up at the bottle-lined shelves behind the bar, Carl wondered if any of them might contain the answers he was looking for. Having so far worked through about half of them he was beginning to suspect not, but with a swelling rock of misery throbbing in his chest he could not think of any other option besides testing out the rest.
With doleful eyes, he glanced down at his drink and not for the first time analysed the lingerie clad woman engraved at the bottom. She was truly beautiful: curvy, smiling, with flowing hair and a heavy chest. Yet though he could appreciate her beauty, he knew with a stab to the heart that he was not remotely attracted to her.
In the hope that it might soothe his torment he downed the rest of his drink and slid the glass away. It didn’t.
Sighing, he took up his phone from the bar and turned it on. The lock screen was bright in the dim room and it took him a second to decipher the time. When he did, he groaned.
Half-past midnight. Half-past fucking midnight. On a Tuesday. What am I going to tell Lorna? What am I going to tell the kids?
He had told his wife he was going to be back late, but this was pushing it. But if he went home in this state his cover story of heading to an out of town conference would be blown for sure: the alcohol on his breath and the dishevelled clothes were evidence enough to rumble his lie. But what else could he do?
Without thinking he beckoned the bartender over and immediately regretted it. The man was half his age, tall, athletic, with muscles that bulged through his shirt and by now Carl’s ability to notice when he was staring was out of order. Only when the man was stood in front of him and Carl was starting to mutter inappropriate things under his breath did he catch himself and, blushing furiously, he ordered another drink.
His eyes followed the bartender as he went to pluck a bottle from the shelf. Slapping himself sharply to snap out of it, he stared resolutely at the worn wood of the bar as the man returned and mumbled his thanks as he handed over the cash.
‘Last one,’ the bartender said firmly, ‘you’ve had plenty enough for the night, pal.’
Too afraid he might blurt out something inappropriate if he replied, Carl just nodded before staggering over to a table in the middle of the room. Dumping himself down forlornly in the shadows he watched the woman dancing on the stage.
She was a picture of beauty, her lithe figure twisting around the pole with cat-like skill. Her skin was pale and smooth like porcelain but looked sumptuously soft all the same, decorated here and there with artful tattoos; on her arm, down her side, and a large, delicate, floral piece beneath her breasts. Her red hair shone under the light, brushing her pale shoulders with soft curls, and she was made-up with smoky eyeshadow and muted lipstick intended to further encapsulate her voyeurs. A small stud nestled in her philtrum, dazzling when it caught the light, a diamond embedded in her divine features. Around her wrist was a shimmering bracelet to match the diamond-studded choker she wore. The outfit she had chosen to tease the audience with tonight was a lingerie set of red velvet leaving little to the imagination, though Carl had the impression that the fine underwear was lost on the handful of men in the front row who were hungrily watching her work the pole.
On the verge of tears, Carl slumped back into his seat and felt the last of his hope trickle away. Five hours he had been here. Five hours watching stunning woman seductively untie panties and bralettes, slide free of tights and fishnet stockings, grind up against the hard pole or stroke one another’s bodies. It had been a long shot, he knew, but he had hoped against hope he might get something out of it. But no. Nothing. Sweet fuck all.
He could spend days describing the obvious and astonishing beauty of every woman who had taken to the stage, but it was abundantly clear now that not so much of a fragment of sexual arousal came from watching them perform.
Practically collapsing in on himself he sank his head onto the table and hoped the shadows might swallow him up.
Starting awake, Carl’s stomach dropped. Sitting up sharply he scrambled for his phone. How late was it? Glancing around, he started to panic. The room was empty, the bar was unmanned with the lights turned off, while the stage was likewise deserted and unlit. The rest of the room was brighter than it had been now the lights were turned up a little, but it was still dim in the strip club.
Checking his lock screen, he felt his heart freeze.
Three fifty-one. On top of that he had half a dozen missed calls. Lorna, obviously wondering where the Hell he was at four in the morning. ‘Shit,’ he breathed, hoping the place hadn’t been locked up without them realising he was still here.
‘Well yeah,’ came a soft voice, ‘but I think you’ve got bigger problems than coming up with a believable excuse tonight.’
Spinning around, Carl realised he was not alone.
Sitting in a silver, high-backed chair beside him was the redhead stripper he had seen earlier. She still wore her red lingerie, and she was eyeing him in the way a hawk might regard a mouse.
It was only then he felt a strange presence on his right cheek. Feeling it, he flushed with embarrassment as he pulled away the paper coaster which had stuck there as he slept. Not sure what to do, he took up his drink, had a sip, then winced as he tasted the warm liquid and promptly pushed the glass away.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked, trying very hard not to slur his words.
‘Possibly. Though I think it is more a case of us helping one another.’
‘Has the club closed?’
‘Oh yes, but I know the owners well. I assured them I would look after you once you woke up. My name is Minerva. And you are?’
‘Carl. I’m not going to get told off for talking to you, am I?’
‘God no. There’s nobody here for starters, but besides that nobody decides who I spend my time with except me. So, Carl, forgive me for intruding, but you seem like you’ve got a problem. I’m in the habit of fixing problems, so perhaps we can come to an arrangement.’
Carl fiddled with the placemat he was holding. ‘What makes you think I have a problem?’
‘It’s not difficult to see really. I’ve been stripping for some time now – it allows me to let off some steam, you see – and in that time I’ve learned to read the men who come to watch. There are the virgins, for example: they stay at the back and shuffle awkwardly like they’re not sure they should be here. On the other end of the spectrum there are the players who come in with girls on their arm and spend the night making smug faces as though they’re sure I won’t be able to resist joining in. Guys wanting affairs are always in the front row imagining what they’d do to me if they had the chance, and guys having affairs are always behind them, wondering what the girl they’re cheating with would look like in my lingerie.
‘But you, I don’t often see men like you in the crowd. Generally guys don’t tend to fall asleep sobbing when there’s a girl on the stage, and even when they do they don’t stare at the bartender like they wish he was the one stripping. So, either you’ve had so much you’re starting to mix up body parts, or you’re here because you’re trying to convince yourself you’re not gay.’ She smiled disarmingly and he felt somehow more comfortable in her presence. The way she could read him with such ease was equally relieving and worrying: it was nice not to have to hide the truth, but if she could see it then what if his wife had already figured it out?
All at once, an anger bubbled up in him. Undeniably part of it was fuelled by the alcohol, but he soon realised it was an anger he had been pushing down for a long time. ‘Fifty. That’s how old I am. Fifty fucking years on earth and all of them have been a goddamn lie. Why has it taken this long? Why couldn’t I have figured it out when I was young and free? I have a wife. I’ve got kids. If I’m gay, why the fuck did I not realise before either of those came along? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. If they find out about this it will tear them apart, but right now…’ he paused, slouched in his chair, emotionally and mentally exhausted, ‘right now it’s tearing me apart. I can’t deny who I am, but I don’t have a choice. I can’t ruin their lives because mine is a wreck.’
For a minute or so there was silence. He knew she was staring at him with those keen eyes, but he didn’t have the energy to ask her why. He felt more tired than he ever had before, and he knew it was not from lack of sleep but from the struggle of concealing his true self.
‘Maybe you don’t have to deny who you are,’ Minerva said at last.
‘Did you not hear what I just said? It would rip my family apart. I can’t do that to them.’
‘But what if it didn’t? Say there was a way to be who you are, who you really are, without it hurting those you love, would you take it?’
‘Of course. But there isn’t.’
A smile spread across her pretty face then and she rose from her seat. Offering him a hand, she helped him onto unsteady feet. ‘Follow me. I can help. Come morning, Carl, you’ll be a new man.’
He didn’t believe her for a moment but even a hope he didn’t believe in was better than no hope at all. At this point it didn’t matter if he arrived home at four in the morning or four in the afternoon, his wife would still be equally worried. What did he have to lose?
Leading him by the hand, Minerva took them to a door beside the stage. Taking the handle, she pushed through and to Carl’s surprise they came into another bar. At first he thought it might be for the club staff, but when he looked around he realised he vaguely recognised the place.
With the bar on one side of the room, the other was dominated by a large pool table, a handful of arcade machines and a small karaoke stage in one corner. It was a dark room, lit only by the glow of the machines and the shafts of moonlight slitting through the blinds. At a snap of the woman’s fingers the lights of the bar flickered into life. The neon sign set above the bar explained why Carl recognised the place.
‘Club Grind?’ he said, turning to his companion. ‘But that makes no sense. Club Grind is on the opposite side of the city. We were nowhere near it. How…?’ Turning back to the open door, his mind wrestled with the impossibility of it. Through the open doorway loomed the strip club, complete with his warm, barely touched drink abandoned on the table they had just left. By rights, there should have been six or seven miles between the two rooms yet, somehow, they had walked from one right into the other.
Club Grind was the heart of the city’s gay scene. It was an open secret that they offered private rooms for the passionate and dungeons for the kinky, though by some miracle they hadn’t been shut down despite existing as a hotspot for gay sex in a city which, historically, was far from keen on public homosexuality. Though he had never trusted himself to visit, Carl had looked up the club online and recognised it from the photos. He had never believed he would step foot in the building, but the knowledge that he was standing in the hub of the city’s gay community and no more than a few metres away from gloryholes, slings and more extreme implements which had been used by countless gay men over the years was almost more than he could comprehend. The thought of it all soon raised his cock to attention.
Snapping her fingers again, the door closed behind them. ‘Don’t worry, love, there’s nothing to be confused about. I’m just a little magic that’s all. Me and my wife, we like to help those in need when we can. Which is why we’re here. We helped create this place, Morgana and me. Met the owners as they were being harassed by some boorish homophobes. They were an open-minded pair, let’s say that, and as much as they had tried they’d never been able to find a place to really explore themselves. Naturally, we jumped at the chance to help so we made this place for the gay men of the city to live out their fantasies. We even married the couple to boot given they couldn’t get married elsewhere. We enchanted the building so no narrow-minded morons bought trouble or authorities knocking, then took the stupid brutes who had been bullying the owners and turned them into the first patrons. From there you probably know the rest.’
‘But why are we here?’ Carl asked, trying to just accept her words. If he thought about what she was saying too much he knew he would have a breakdown.
‘So you can see if you really like what you think you like. Like I said, the owners are good friends of mine. They’ll show you some good gay sex. At the end you get to decide if you want more. First though, we’ve got to do something about your look.’
Frowning, Carl watched her take a step back and look him up and down. ‘First off, the silver fox look has got to go. I’m thinking bald instead.’ As she snapped her fingers, Carl suddenly felt a cool breeze on his head and raising a hand his fingers touched smooth skin instead of the dry hair he had expected.
Before he could say anything, she had snapped her fingers again, muttering something about designer stubble. His chin and cheeks prickled as a short black beard burst into life, lining the lower half of his face with rough stubble.
From that point on, Carl did not get the chance to respond to any of Minerva’s changes until she had finished her work. He felt like a character in one of those children’s books where you could turn the flaps to dress the person in different outfits, or an avatar on a video game with his body parts being changed and swapped on the whim of the witch. Once or twice she would change something only to decide against it and choose something different, but for the most part her first pick was what she settled on. Halfway through she snapped away his clothes, and for the first time Carl could see what she was doing to his body, his cock stiffening at the sight.
He looked incredible. Unrecognisable from the ageing, grey-haired, past-his-prime man who had fallen asleep in the strip club, he was now no less than a god among men. His calves were like tree trunks, his thighs pillars of stone. His once flabby stomach had been carved into abs tighter than a submarine’s bolts, while his narrow shoulders had surged out into a massive barrel-chest with pectoral muscles so large he thought they might split his skin. Said skin was now tanned from head to toe, making it appear as though his astonishing muscles were carved from unblemished gold. His huge arms hung heavy at his sides, cut through by pronounced veins that gave the impression of boundless raw power. He was coated all over with a fine layer of dark body hair neither too short to be prickly nor too long to conceal any of his gorgeous muscles. Finally, looking down with young eyes set beneath a newly heavy brow, he admired the mighty rigid cock jutting from his crotch, bucking gently as though eager to slip into a tight ass. It was a far cry from the meagre nub he had known all his life.
Once Minerva had finished she crossed her arms and smiled, nodding approval for her work. ‘What do you think, darling?’
When Carl regained his composure, he was beaming so wide it hurt. ‘Are you fucking serious? This feels in-cred-ible. Jesus Christ, these muscles, this body, this cock… God, this is too much. I feel so powerful and hot and, Jesus, so fucking horny. Did you do that?’
Minerva nodded. ‘Sure. What with it being your first time I didn’t want you to get bogged down with any hesitation so I upped your libido a few notches.’
‘What do you mean my first time?’
Just then the sound of footsteps was followed by a door opening and two handsome men entering the room. They were wearing nothing but boxers and trainers, but Carl would not have wanted to pick a fight with them: one wielded a baseball bat, the other an electroshock wand, and both were built like brick walls.
Spotting the woman they lowered their weapons and sauntered over.
‘Ah Minerva, it’s you. We thought we heard voices.’ The man was a Latino, with dark hair and piercing eyes.
‘Of course we never doubted your enchantment, but you never can be too careful,’ said his companion – a tattooed giant of a man – nodding to their discarded weapons.
‘Quite right, Wade. A pleasure to see you as always. My apologies for the late intrusion, but I happen to need your help.’
The two men admired Carl’s new body hungrily and he could see their thick snakes begin to grow in their boxers. ‘Guessing it has something to do with this sweet piece of ass?’ said Wade the tattooed giant.
‘It sure does. Came into my strip club trying to convince himself he wasn’t gay. Having a real rough time of things he is. I was hoping you and Alonso might be able to show him what he’s been missing.’
With a mischievous smirk, Wade nodded. ‘I’m sure we could give him a brief education. You care to watch, dear?’
Minerva put on a face of mock offense. ‘Sweetie, how could you think I would want anything else. Don’t worry, I won’t get in your way, I’ll just be having a drink.’ Slinking behind the bar, the witch jumped up to sit on the counter and, summoning a bottle from the shelves opposite, poured herself a drink.
Carl, meanwhile, felt arousal thrill through him as Wade and Alonso took him with their strong hands…
‘That’s it,’ Wade whispered gruffly, ‘it’s not just about taking it deep. You can work up to that, but it is the tongue that makes a blowjob.’
Alonso was knelt on the edge of the bar with Minerva spread out on her front a little way behind him, her head nestled in her hands as she watched. Carl could feel Wade’s powerful body pressing up against him, a shadow of erotic strength penning him in and keeping him focused on the task at hand.
‘Swirl it around his cock, taste him, tease him. It’s all in the tongue work, sexy. And you have to listen: if you keep your ears open you’ll know what he likes.’
Listening intently as Alonso’s cock pressed against his cheeks, pre-cum smearing his tongue with a sharp, salty flavour, Carl slowly understood what Wade was talking about. Running his tongue along the bottom of Alonso’s shaft drew a long, low moan from the man, while a quick flick over the head sparked a gasp and a shiver. Continuing to play with his head dropped Alonso into a state of muted pleasure but made the gasps less sharp or excitable.
With his ears open, his tongue weaving, and his own cock twitching with the thrill of it all, Carl did not notice Wade pull back.
From her position on the bar, her small glass given up for a fine wine she was drinking from the bottle, she nodded eager encouragement as Wade stroked himself to his full and impressive length. His thick, veiny cock throbbing, he angled himself behind Carl as the transformed man feasted hungrily on his husband’s cock. Taking up a bottle of lube from the bar stool beside him, he rubbed his cock slick before hovering his glistening fingers over Carl’s gently bobbing ass.
With a nod of approval from Minerva, Wade lubed Carl’s ass and sank his cock inside in on swift movement.
It was fortunate indeed that the building was enchanted to dissuade anybody from calling in the authorities, because the scream that tore from Carl’s lips as he was penetrated for the first time, though full of pleasure, would surely have worried anybody who might have heard. His cry was brief but passionate, though it fell quickly into moans so deep and sensual he realised at once he had never truly known pleasure until right now. Years with his wife and three children to their name, and not once had he reached a sexual high so stratospheric he wondered if it might push him to unconsciousness.
Flooded with fresh desire he bowed his head and fed on Alonso with renewed vigour, invigorated by each thrust of Wade’s magnificent cock. He could feel his new body reacting to being used: his ass rippling, his muscles tensing, his cock bucking beneath him fully erect and dribbling pre-cum over the tiles. He was vaguely aware he was probably not the first man to leak over them, and the thought made him all the hornier.
All at once Alonso came hard. The sensation of his first ass-fucking combined with that of Alonso’s delicious seed spilling down his throat shut down Carl’s rational thinking and he became at once an animal of ravenous lust. Gulping down the sticky cum, he pulled back and grinned. He could feel cum stringing from his teeth but chose to leave it there, knowing it would arouse his lovers. ‘I need more than a fuck, I need the ride of my life. You think you can help me with that, hot stuff?’
‘FUCK!’ Carl cried. ‘Oooooooh, fuuuuuuuuck.’
A miniscule fraction of his mind was conscious that somebody other than Minerva might be able to hear, but everything else told him it didn’t matter. Nothing had ever felt this good. Not walking down the aisle with his wife, not making love to her for the first, not even that one night she had agreed to let him fuck her ass. Everything paled in significance to this.
Alonso was beneath him, laid back on a low table spread over with a blanket thrusting with mind-blowing power. At the same time, he was bouncing up and down on the pulsing cock to the rhythm of his thrusts. If that was not enough, Wade had clamped his lips around Carl’s dick and was slobbering on it with his thick wet tongue.
Such a combination was bound to reach a climax sooner rather than later, and when it came it was spectacularly intense. Wade’s experienced oral skills pushed Carl over the edge and the new man bellowed his pleasure as he unloaded into Wade’s mouth. Cumming harder than he ever had before, the contraction of his ass muscles then broke the seal of Alonso’s orgasm, which ripped through him and culminated with Carl experiencing an almighty load of hot cum filling his ass.
Their cries lasted some time, and only once they had calmed down did Minerva drop to the floor.
‘I think your work is done, gentlemen,’ she said softly, ‘Carl certainly seems fully educated. And full in general, really. Thank you for your help, I look forward to paying you back: it has been some time since I took the form of a man. I always forget how fun it can be. Now, if you please, I would like some time alone with Carl.’
Nodding their understanding, Wade and Alonso untangled themselves from a breathless Carl and slipped from the room. As they left, the sound of their kissing was audible, and Minerva had the sense Carl’s would not be the last moans the building heard before the night was out.
Turning to him, she found him standing with a hand on his bald head as he stared incredulously at his rigid cock.
‘I’ve never been this hard before,’ he whispered, ‘I’ve never felt so horny or fulfilled. I spent so long trying to convince myself I wouldn’t like this I didn’t realise how good it really was.’
Looking up, he realised they were no longer in the club. The room was large and modern with a vaguely masochistic design to it. One side was dominated by a colossal black-sheeted bed to match the dark walls, while in the adjacent corner were several rolling racks of clothes hung with everything from rubber suits complete with gasmask to perfectly pressed business suits. The rest of the room was laid out with various sexual instruments. Behind him were silver mesh railings ready for him to tie somebody to, and the whole room was lit by dangling lights.
‘Where are we?’ he asked.
‘We’re in your room. If you want it.’ Seeing his confusion, Minerva spread her arms wide. ‘This all yours, Carl. Like I said, me and my wife, we help people. And we’re witches, which means we don’t just have to stop at words of sympathy or a wad of cash to help you along. This is our house and this is your room within it. If you want you can stay here in this body and live the life you have always wanted deep down. Or, if you would rather go home to your wife and children, I will take you there myself and I’ll never bother you again. This room will always be here if you wish to come back and claim it, but we will not push you to do anything you don’t want to. It’s your choice, Carl.’
To her surprise, Carl looked as though he had just been told his childhood pet had died. ‘I… I can’t stay. What you’ve done for me is more than I could ever thank you enough for, and all this is so wonderful. But I… I can’t leave my family. Like I said before, I can’t ruin their lives just to live the one I want.’
Approaching him, Minerva rested a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. ‘If it helps at all, I’ve wiped their memories already.’
‘You’ve what?’ Carl asked, incredulous.
‘I did it back at the club. I believe it was around about the point you were screaming for Alonso to fuck you like the slut you are. I had the sense at that point you were as happy being gay as you thought you would be. So I erased their memories of you. Everybody’s memory of you, actually. Other than me, nobody will ever know what the old you even looked like unless you choose to go back. If you do, all their memories will be restored as though they were never gone in the first place.
‘Don’t worry, it won’t harm them at all. Your kids will go on to live the same lives they would have done with you by your side, and if you really want I can create a replacement from your brainwaves to make sure they have a father figure. Everything you are but straight and content, instead of gay and trapped in your marriage.’
His heart skipping so fast he thought he might suffer a heart attack, Carl could not believe his ears. ‘You could do that?’
Minerva nodded.
Carl’s jaw set firmly. ‘Yes. Please. I love my kids, my wife too. I want them to have a father and a husband.’
The witch snapped her fingers. ‘Done. You and your wife have been happily married for twenty-eight years, you have never spent any late nights in strip clubs trying to drool yourself straight, and your kids have a father who will love them unconditionally while you live out your new life. Congratulations, Carl, you have finally come out.’
The transformed man could not help it. The weight of so many years of denial lifted with her words and he broke into a fit of tears he could not control. Slumping down on the edge of the bed, he vacantly realised how strange the situation was: he, a fifty-year old closeted gay man transformed into an out and proud fucking machine was sat stark naked and still hard in a room full of sex toys and fetish gear with a witch wrapping her arms around him comfortingly. Yet he had never felt more content.
‘Now,’ Minerva said softly, ‘before I leave you in peace there is one more thing I need to show you.’
Taking him by the hand, she led him to a door across the room. ‘Not everyone here has one since they don’t all need one, but this is your Door of Desire. Simply put, it reads your desires and makes them real. Whatever craving or fetish you need satisfying at the time of using it, the door will take you to the best place to do so. You want to fuck a horny twink in a hotel room? The hotel will be on the other side and the twink waiting just for you. Then whenever you want to return or bring a plaything back to fuck senseless, all you have to do is think of this place and say ‘Home’ and the next door you open will lead you back here. Any questions?’
‘Yes, actually,’ he said, a sly grin spreading across his handsome features. ‘Is the door ready to use?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good. Because I’ve been fucked a lot tonight, so I think it is high time I be the one doing the fucking.’
The witch smiled. ‘In that case, I’ll leave you to it.’
Catching her arm as she turned to leave, Carl fixed her with an emotional stare. ‘Thank you. For everything. You’ve set me free.’
Bowing her head respectfully, she nodded. ‘It was my pleasure.’ With that she turned to leave, slipping from the room and into the dimly lit corridor beyond. Standing outside for a moment, she ran her hand across the carving in the broad oaken door: an impressively realistic work of Carl’s god-like figure impaling a whimpering young man. Above, on a small golden plaque read the name Carl Daniels.
With a satisfied expression, she turned away and strode off down the corridor lined on either side with similar doors, each bearing their own plaque and carving.
Meanwhile, Carl pushed through the Door of Desire to find himself in a large room styled like the inside of an industrial warehouse. In the centre of the room, however, lay a handsome young man in leather straps. A mischievous grin splitting his features, Carl closed the door and strode towards him…
Thanks for reading!
Well, that’s it. That’s my last Gaypril post. I have to say dedicating a month to gay content has been something I’ve really enjoyed and I look forward to doing it again. I’m acutely aware much can happen in the span of a year so I’m not going to say I will definitely do Gaypril next year, however if this time next year I am still able to do it I will happily do so. Having said that it is entirely possible that moving forward I might decide to put out a handful of gay/trans stories in a given week or dedicate maybe half a month to this kind of content.
The main model in this piece is Sean Zevran. You only need to look at him to see how much of a god he is and I for one certainly wouldn’t mind spending some quality time with the man. His PornHub profile can be found here: https://www.pornhub.com/pornstar/sean-zevran. He is one of the gay models I am more familiar with and I can highly recommend his work to any who think they might be interested in it. It’s likely I will use him in other pieces in the future so if you enjoyed the muscly visuals he provided make sure to keep your eyes out for him in future stories. The model used for Minerva, meanwhile, is Arya Fae. I am less familiar with her work, but what I have seen is great and you can see it for yourself on her profile here: https://www.pornhub.com/pornstar/arya-fae.
I just wanted to quickly thank my readers for supporting my Gaypril blog posts. As I mentioned on a previous post the views have been wildly erratic this month but on the whole they haven’t dropped nearly as much as I expected. I know this content is not for everyone, and I also know that as a creator I should write stories I am proud of and that I want to write, but I still want to express my thanks for those readers who may have skipped my gay/trans content but continue to support my blog through reading my cis work. Also, I know I always ask for comments on my work but I would especially appreciate any feedback you might have on my work this month given that it was a change from my normal blog work.
Finally, a word on my schedule moving forward. With Gaypril now over I will be returning to my schedule of two posts per week on Monday and Thursday, which will be predominantly cis content. As much as I have enjoyed it Gaypril has been a lot of work what with three, sometimes four releases per week, and I don’t have any plans to rush into another special set of posts. As a lot of content creators right now can attest, the current situation of isolation does not always work in favour of writing so I won’t be pushing myself to do anything I don’t feel able to. In all likelihood the next set of themed stories will be in October for Halloween. I’m already putting together ideas for some of the stories I can release then and I can’t wait to share them with you when the spooky season rolls around. Other than that and Christmas I don’t have plans for any more themed content this year. If that changes I will of course let you know. However, you can follow me on Twitter where I am releasing a few captions per day.
As a quick addition to the state of my new schedule, my first May release is one I am really excited to share with you all. It is another one of those pieces that ran away once I started writing it, but in the end it became a love letter to the community of creators I’ve become a part of over the last year.
Keep up to date with new releases by following me elsewhere:
Tumblr: fetishesandfantasiesworld
Twitter: @Fetish_Fantasy_
Images:
https://unsplash.com/photos/iRF0psyhz10
Minerva images sourced from this set: https://www.pornpics.com/galleries/long-legged-stripper-arya-fae-reveals-her-skinny-tattooed-body-and-dances/
https://www.pornhub.com/photo/343027871
https://www.pornhub.com/photo/343027441
Additional images created using ezgif and Online Video Cutter from the following video(s):
https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bc4129527e56
https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5888d1ed0fc8d
