It had been a tough year. After graduation, I had taken a job here in town, with the hope that I could keep on living the college life. Unfortunately, it hadn’t occurred to me that once most of my fraternity brothers left to build their lives elsewhere, the appeal of living in a college town would fade quickly. Now my job wasn’t going well either, and I was depressed and bored. As I stood at the mirror, I couldn’t help but sigh. Talk about Joe Average. Sandy brown hair, thin, not much of an upper body. Something’s gotta change, I thought to myself. I went to check the morning mail. In amongst the junk was a small flat square envelope. There was no return address. Inside was just an unmarked CD.
A story I’d forgotten about, not very seasonal but it was written for someone at Christmas.
It’s A Wonderful Life by Rik
The story begins two weeks before Christmas. Dan Shaw is working late running his finance business in the heart of London. Dan has worked hard to establish his growing…
The Gentleman and the Faggot
Written by grrside
As commissioned by anonymous
“Oh, there you are, Christopher. I had the faintest hunch that you would be here”, Marcus remarked with irony to his “partner-in-crime” who was currently a sweaty mess.
“Well, when you own…*Huff!*…fifty-one percent…*Argh!*…of the shares of one of the biggest…*Yargh!*…Fitness center franchises in the country…*Huff!*…you have to take advantage of the discount on the yearly memberships…” Christopher managed to say as his strong arms struggled to lift the barbell. He had been going to this gym for five months already, and it definitely started to show. His muscles could barely fit inside his stretched and sweaty singlet, the sweat turning its fabric transparent, making the erect nipples on his defined pecs easily distinguishable, among other erected body parts.
“So…” Christopher said as he placed the barbell on its stand. “…How was the auction? Did you manage to make a winning bid for the statue I told you about?” He continued as he grabbed a nearby towel and used it to dry the bodily fluids that were dripping from his forehead.
“Unfortunately that statue is going to be auctioned tomorrow. The only statue that was auctioned today was just an ancient joke item, a small frog statue posing as if it were a Buddha statue. It was in an horrible condition, and the design was hideous. I don’t think we could have fetched anything from it, so I placed my bids on other, more interesting items. Like that set of relics from an Asian emperor who ruled back in the 18th century…I don’t know how his name is pronounced, but anyway, there was lots of valuable-looking stuff in that set. An armour, a sword, plates, a few pieces of furniture…Look.” He showed Christopher a few photos depicting his purchases.
“Not bad, I’m sure we’ll be able to fetch a nice price from these…”
Christopher already had millions of dollars that he could never spend in a lifetime thanks to his financial investments. Dealing with antiquities was just a hobby. Besides, the possibility of earning even more money which would never be spent on anything meaningful was always fun.
“It’ll all be sent to our warehouse in about two weeks. Oh, except for the ornamental sake bottle, which is already inside the limousine’s glovebox. It was the only item from the set that was physically exhibited at the auction, and as it was quite small and easy to carry it around I thought that sending it to Asia just so they could deliver it to our warehouse again was just a waste of money.”
“That’s phenomenal, you know how eager I am to “play” around with my latest purchases. I’ll check it out ASAP.”
“I thought so, boss. But you’d better hit the showers first. You can’t go into the streets wearing just that sweaty singlet.” Marcus said, trying not to stare at his boss’ practically transparent bulge. “Because…”
“…”Anyone with a phone can be a paparazzi”. You’ve told me countless times already, Marcus. I’m not that desperate to star in the “millionaires hitting rock-bottom” section of all the gossip magazines of the country.”
Christopher really valued Marcus as his employee…But his overprotective ass-kisser attitude could get really annoying at times. Still, he really did need a shower, so he got rid of the tight singlet in the locker room and entered the warm showers.
Mark Twain once said: “Clothes make the man”, but if that implied that Christopher didn’t look like a sophisticated multi millionaire when placed naked in a shower full of commoners in various states of undress, then Mark Twain was completely wrong. The hot water splashed on his prominent pecs and traveled down through his defined abs. The millionaire’s smooth torso was completely devoid of hair thanks to all the money spent on all those laser hair-removal sessions, as well as his extremities, his ass and the crotch from which an impressively-sized package was hung. But it wasn’t just the way he looked, it was also the way he moved. He passed by some chubby pigs and a few muscle heads without even bothering to dedicate a glance to any of them, head high, chest forward. It was amazing how anyone could tell he was a respected person of a higher-status and not just an ordinary man. And that was without the help of an expensive-looking suit or selling his image to the media, unlike a regular celebrity. Nobody dared to talk to or make any remarks about the naked rich man, as they weren’t worthy of speaking to such a confident-looking man.
The Joy of Giving
Written by grrside
As commissioned by anonymous
CHAPTER ONE
Tonight, Shawn would lose his virginity.
Okay, he had to resort to put an ad in a dating website, so what? After spending all his teenage years in the closet living in a house with an homophobic family, he was finally living in his own apartment. He hadn’t wasted all those years browsing gay porn in his computer behind his parents’ back to take things slow now…All those endless nights wanking to static images of gay bears making out were about to end. Tonight, he’ll have his own manly bear all for him. He was so anxious! He was going to arrive any minute now!…
There was just one problem though…Even though the bear had sent him lots of photos of him posing nude, Shawn had only sent shots of the upper part of his body. He was scared that if he showed him his puny dicklett, the bear would laugh at him and reject him. He was glad he hadn’t asked for photos of his cock before accepting his offer to stay the night at his house, but now this meant he would have to reveal his dick to him face-to-face…What if the bear burst out laughing if Shawn said that he wanted to be the one on “top” after seeing his pathetic prick?
It all happened last May, when a heat wave hit my town. I wasn’t too worried about it as when I’m home I just strip down to my shorts and turn on the air conditioner. My neighbours however don’t have one because, according to them, they are “bad for the environment”, but I just know that the only reason they don’t have one is because the head of the family is such a miser. He never wants to spend money in “luxurious crap that we could live without thirty years ago”. His wife told him to at least buy an inflatable pool for their son, and he agreed to purchase one. And by “purchase” what I mean of course is that he rung my bell and asked me if I had any old one laying around. “Well…” I said while scratching the back of my shorts. “I had a small one when I was a kid, I think it has to be lost somewhere in the basement…”
The clouds hovering in the high afternoon were so dark as to almost belong to the night. Carl, feeling restless, was in the living room looking out the window at the thunderstorm building overhead, annoyed that the cloud cover wasn’t actually cooling down the house at all, and the…
The heatwave never broke—it only intensified as summer settled over the house in a miasma. It was too hot to do much of anything, it was too hot to think, it was too hot to worry about these sorts of things. Carl stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, looking intently at his…
Carl had always intended to do the renovations himself—after all, he’d bought the small house in part because it was a bit run-down, which also meant he’d gotten it for a comparable steal in the current buyer’s market, but two summers had already gone by and work had simply been too busy for him to ever devote much time to his plans. It wasn’t like the place was falling apart or anything, he would tell himself. The roof didn’t leak, all of his appliances functioned well enough. The inside and outside could use a fresh coat of paint and some better carpet, and the kitchen and bathrooms desperately needed remodeling, but at some point practicality had overwhelmed his ambition, and so he’d settled in, happy enough, figuring he would get around to it at some point.
It wasn’t that Carl was incapable of doing the work—in fact, he’d often helped his father with home remodelling projects when he was teenager, and still trying to prove to himself that he might be straight, which was funny, now that he thought back on it. Still, in his late twenties and with a firm, gym toned body, he actually enjoyed the idea of working on something like this instead of sitting in front of the computer all day long, like he’d been doing lately. Carl worked from home as a website developer. Running his own business could be stressful at times, but he was currently riding a pretty high wave which had given him the first chance to save some money in the last few years, and he really enjoyed working with his current batch of clients. Still, even though it was only May, he could tell it was going to be a beautiful summer, and the perfect opportunity to get some work on the house done. Unfortunately, his work was so successful that it was taking up most of his time, and it was beginning to look like he wasn’t going to be able to do the renovations himself. Still, the problems which had at first seemed charming were slowly developing into more of an eyesore, and it was that which provoked Carl to relent and hire a handyman to come and do some work on the house for him this summer, since it probably wouldn’t get done otherwise.
He certainly did his research when it came to contractors—he got recommendations from friends and work associates, he trolled review sites, he called around looking for reputable, hard working, drug free employees…and so when he ended up hiring Bud Johnson to do the work, he kind of surprised himself. He’d found one solid reference to Bud’s work online, and called him for a consultation on a bit of whim, and when Bud had shown up at the door, it wasn’t the kind of guy he’d expected. He was a bit shorter than Carl, but the way he stuck out his chest and with his fat gut stretching his muscle shirt taut, he gave off a certain sense of bluster and bullying that caught Carl off guard. Chuffing on a cigar that Carl kept forgetting to ask him to extinguish and smelling of stale beer, Bud wormed his way into the house with a warm handshake and a conversation that Carl just couldn’t seem to control. Bud talked a bit too fast, and by the time Carl had his thoughts formulated on one topic enough to respond, Bud had already assumed Carl’s agreement and moved onto the next.
“What do ya think of this color outside, pretty grim, eh? Good thing ya called me—no reason tah be the saddest house on the block, eh? How ‘bout Red? I’m thinkin’ red.”
“You know what this kitchen could use? Stone floors. I put some stone floors in the last house I worked on, and the owners loved it. I bet you would to! Sounds like a plan tah me.”
“This might be more than you were thinkin’ out here, but what about an awning for the patio? It would make it a great party spot—pop open a few brews, have a smoke with the buds, eh man?”
Still, for all of his pushy conversation, and the smoking, which started off as annoying and grew infuriating as Bud ignored Carl’s attempts to get him to put it out, he seemed knowledgeable and ambitious. In addition, it was just Bud working by himself, and he owned his own business, which Carl could more than respect, since he worked alone as well. By the end of the consultation, Carl had already agreed to hire Bud—but decided to limit him to working on the exterior paint for now, and if that went well, they’d see what they could do about the rest of his ideas. Still, Carl couldn’t help but be a bit concerned, and couldn’t shake the sense that he’d been logrolled some how. Still, he shrugged his shoulders and set up a few fans to try and clear the smoke out of the air in the house, and figured that if things went bad, he could always just fire him.
Stuck as Santa 