It Still Fits
Read from the beginning at I Don’t Own My Likeness 1.
Vince knelt over the plastic storage bin like a man digging up his own coffin. His knees cracked audibly as he crouched, and he muttered under his breath. “Forty-five and falling apart.” His fingers fumbled with the lid for a moment before he pried it off and set it aside. The inside smelled like melted plastic and dryer sheets—a unique combination of scents that only clung to forgotten costumes and boxed-up lives.
He cast a glance toward the linen closet in the hall. In the back, sealed away in a double-lined garment bag for posterity, lay the original Derek Vesta suit, the one from the Spacedock Omega pilot, back when everything had been fresh, promising, and of cinema quality. He didn’t dare slip into that one. That suit was sacred. A museum piece. He was headed to Fort Wayne Pride, not the Smithsonian.
Continue readingChapter 2: Where Will it Go?
Catch up on chapter 1 if you haven’t already…
The crate lid lifted with a metallic sigh. Fluorescent light knifed down, and Barry’s eyes, used to blindfolds and blackout sclera lenses, watered instantly. The crate’s latex lining peeled away from his knees with a wet kiss. Mack’s hand closed around the posture collar and hauled upward. Barry’s legs had forgotten their job; joints popped like cheap plastic. He sagged, rubber squeaking against rubber, until Mack braced him against the playroom wall.
“Stand up, object.”
Continue readingOne-Off Gig
Read from the beginning at I Don’t Own My Likeness 1.
Vince sat slumped in the cracked leather armchair across from Randy’s desk, a pair of crumpled parking tickets in one hand and his phone in the other, thumb hovering above a bank app that displayed an overdrawn balance. The red digits blinked up at him with the same quiet finality as a flatline. He exhaled through his nose and let his head tilt back against the wall behind him.
Randy hunched over a first-generation MacBook Pro so old it looked like it ran on diesel. He twirled a toothpick between his teeth as he pecked at the keyboard with two fingers, then let out a triumphant little grunt. “Here we go,” he said, swiveling the laptop around. “Take a look at this.”
Continue readingChapter 1: The Table
The first thing Barry knew was pressure: knees folded to chest, wrists cuffed to ankles behind him, the posture collar locked so tight his chin could not dip. The second thing was heat. The rubber lining the underside of the dining room table had warmed to blood temperature hours ago; now it clung like a second, wetter skin. He breathed through dime-sized holes drilled along an acrylic lid, each exhale fogging the glass for a heartbeat before the vents sucked it away. Above him, the room glowed amber.
Thanksgiving. Year Five.
Continue readingKevin never meant to fall for someone difficult. He’d had enough of men who texted “u up?” at midnight, only to disappear for a week and then come back horny and full of apologies. He wanted simple. He wanted stable. He wanted someone with a boring day job, a soft laugh, and maybe a houseplant that lived longer than a month.
When Roger walked into the cafe and they first made eye contact, Kevin knew he wasn’t like the rest. Roger was remarkably composed, with sharp eyes, wearing dark jeans and a snug black shirt that hugged his chest but left everything else to the imagination. Roger moved through the space like he’d never second guessed himself or felt the need to prove anything in his life. When they sat across from each other with their coffees, talking about everything from bad first dates to favorite horror movies, Kevin felt the subtle, almost electric pull.
Continue readingDoug Merritt sat at his desk, motionless except for the subtle clenching and unclenching of his thick hands. Big knuckled, tanned, and slightly calloused despite the years behind a desk, they gripped each other in his lap like he was trying to hide them from himself.
Fifty-five and bulked thanks to the most expensive personal trainer he could find, Doug looked every bit the part of Chairman of the Board: charcoal wool suit, cut to perfection and hand stitched in London; perfectly symmetrical Windsor knot; pale blue shirt with French cuffs. His shoes gleamed. His tie was silk. His posture should have radiated control. But it didn’t.
Continue readingHey, you.
Today’s story is an excerpt from the JHW vault: Twin Temptation, a cuck & leather romance where loyalty gets tested under the weight of a brother’s boots. I’ve included a brief synopsis to get you up to speed.
If this bit makes you sweat… maybe I’ll release more.
—JHW
Synopsis
Leatherman Jeff is devoted to his husband Deacon, but he finds his loyalties tested when Deacon’s estranged twin, Dominic, returns to town. Deacon and Dominic are identical in appearance, but where Deacon is gentle and submissive, Dominic radiates effortless dominance, something Jeff has secretly longed for but never received from his husband.
Continue readingGet caught up on chapter 1 before reading on…
Chapter 2: A Name in the Dark
A pot of chamomile steeped quietly on the counter, casting a faint floral warmth through the apartment. Their shared desk—actually an old dining table they’d promised to replace twice—was littered with swatches, menu printouts, and two half-charged laptops facing each other like opponents in a civilized duel. Outside, the city exhaled softly through the windows, distant sirens and the hush of weekend traffic. Inside, things finally felt back in rhythm.
“I’m veoting anywhere with scorpions,” Seamus said, scrolling past another too-good-to-be-true resort promo. “Or ‘open-air showers.’ That’s just code for mosquitoes without boundaries.”
Continue readingIn a world shaped by the collapse of the AI revolution, society turns to an unlikely savior: dads. State sanctioned, compression suited, emotionally optimized dads. Zach is prematurely activated into DadNet, a nationwide program that converts ordinary men into obedient, comforting father figures. His best friend Trevor is left behind, watching helplessly as Zach’s identity is overwritten by apron-clad purpose and programmable warmth.
But Zach doesn’t go quietly.
His new life begins, complete with casserole dishes, chore charts, and daily affirmations, but Zach begins to remember fragments of who he used to be. His glitchy reawakening draws him back to Trevor’s doorstep, kicking off a strange, tender reunion filled with domestic rituals, emotional recalibrations, and the slow, terrifying return of the firmware.
Continue readingIn a world shaped by the collapse of the AI revolution, society turns to an unlikely savior: dads. State sanctioned, compression suited, emotionally optimized dads. Zach is prematurely activated into DadNet, a nationwide program that converts ordinary men into obedient, comforting father figures. His best friend Trevor is left behind, watching helplessly as Zach’s identity is overwritten by apron-clad purpose and programmable warmth.
But Zach doesn’t go quietly.
His new life begins, complete with casserole dishes, chore charts, and daily affirmations, but Zach begins to remember fragments of who he used to be. His glitchy reawakening draws him back to Trevor’s doorstep, kicking off a strange, tender reunion filled with domestic rituals, emotional recalibrations, and the slow, terrifying return of the firmware.
Dad State is a darkly comic, emotionally layered story of transformation and surrender: part satire, part sci fi, and part uncanny love letter to the power of routine. In DadNet, structure is freedom, accountability is love, and resistance is only a phase.
Dad State is a 15,000-word novelette. All content in this story is fictional and depicts activities between consenting, unrelated adults who are 18+.
