Category: Fiction

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“Thanks For The Spanks” Art and Fiction by FunkyMonster

In the quiet town of Willowbrook, a peculiar tradition thrived behind the white picket fences and within the walls of the Turner family’s grand, ancestral home. Every year, as the autumn leaves painted the town in fiery hues, the extended family gathered for a Thanksgiving feast like no other. The patriarch, George Turner, a man whose stern demeanor was as constant as the tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway, had instilled in his sons a very specific way of expressing their gratitude. It was a tradition that had been passed down through generations, a bizarre yet cherished ritual that was as much a part of their holiday as the roast turkey and pumpkin pie.

The house buzzed with excitement as the extended family began to arrive. The aroma of roasting meats and baking bread filled the air, mingling with the laughter of children playing outside. The women of the family, dressed in their Sunday best, bustled about the kitchen, preparing the sumptuous feast that was the centerpiece of their celebration. The men, in their crisp shirts and tailored slacks, congregated in the living room, sharing stories and sipping on sweet apple cider, their faces alight with the warmth of camaraderie and anticipation of the evening’s peculiar entertainment.

The youngest son, Timmy, though 15, was already well-versed in the peculiar tradition. He watched his uncles with a mix of awe and trepidation, knowing that one day, he too would stand in their place. The older boys and men, their faces a spectrum of ages from teenage to middle-aged, chuckled and whispered among themselves, sharing memories of past Thanksgiving spankings. The atmosphere was light, yet charged with a palpable tension that only grew as the dinner plates were cleared and the desserts set out.

George, his eyes twinkling with both mischief and affection, called the sons to the center of the room. “Gentlemen,” he announced, “It’s time for our annual show of thanks.” The women and children gathered around, curious and excited, as the sons lined up before their fathers. The room fell silent, save for the crackling fireplace and the occasional giggle from a young cousin. The fathers, each one sterner than the last, took their places behind their boys, their large hands resting on the small of their backs.

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Reality Check – Illustrated Fiction bt Kinky Callum

Reality Check!

The room was dim, its corners swallowed by shadows that seemed to pulse with the faint hum of distant city traffic. A single lamp cast a sickly yellow glow over a cluttered desk, where half-empty bottles and crumpled papers lay scattered. The air was thick with smoke, curling lazily from the tip of a cigarette held between the fingers of a man half-hidden in the darkness. His face was barely discernible, features obscured by the haze and the deliberate angle of his body, but his presence was undeniable—coiled, watchful, dangerous.

On the screen before him, the flickering light from the monitor outlined the stern face of a bald man, muscles taut beneath his shirt, his jaw set in a hard line. He sat with a rigid posture, his eyes cold and unreadable, as if he had seen far too much to be impressed by anything anymore. The faint sound of a clock ticking somewhere in the room only served to heighten the tension between them.

The shadowy figure exhaled, the smoke drifting across his face as he tapped a few keys, sending a link through the encrypted channel. “Watch this,” he murmured, his voice thin and raspy, almost a growl.

The bald man glanced at his screen, his thick fingers moving with surprising speed as he opened the link. The video began to play—a montage of an influencer and Lust Island reality tv star named @AdamFitCoach, a young Englishman in his early twenties, his energy palpable through the screen. He was the picture of youthful arrogance, all lean abs and pecs, cocky grins. His deep Essex accent filled the room as he guided his audience through a series of exercises: squats, jumping jacks, weightlifting. His commentary was playful, teasing, with an undercurrent of self-assuredness that bordered on arrogance.

Adam was dressed in his usual outfit—snug gym shorts that clung to his muscular thighs and an oversized, meaty ass that seemed almost exaggerated beneath the fabric. His black spandex top stretched across his chest and arms, showcasing his lean physique, while blue football socks completed the look, a nod to his past as a semi-pro footballer. He moved with a fluid confidence, every gesture meant to flaunt, to entice.

The bald man watched the video in silence, his expression hardening with each passing second. When the video finally ended, he grunted, a deep, guttural sound that spoke of disapproval—or perhaps something else entirely. “He’s famous,” the bald man said, his Eastern European accent thick, each word deliberate. “Tall. Strong. It will cost extra.”

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Red Hot Deal – by Kinky Callum

RED HOT DEAL

Greg was in his late thirties, living a relatively comfortable life in his large, somewhat lonely Essex home. A software developer by day, he spent most of his evenings indulging in quiet hobbies, the solitude only occasionally broken by the company of friends. But things had changed recently when Jade, a 20-year-old beautician, had come into his life.

Jade was pretty in a conventional way, with blonde hair and a flawless complexion. She was polite and pleasant enough, but dull—her conversations revolving around work, reality TV, and her obsession with her boyfriend, Jack. After a falling out with her parents, she needed a place to stay, and Greg, always eager for extra income and perhaps some company, had offered to rent out his spare room.

But Jade was not the real attraction. It was Jack, her 21-year-old Scouser boyfriend, who had taken up more than just physical space in Greg’s house. Handsome, cocky, and oozing a raw, laddish charm, Jack had an air about him that made him almost irresistible to Greg. He was the embodiment of the type of man Greg could only fantasize about—gym-tanned, muscular, with thighs that could make anyone weak in the knees. And those tight boxer briefs he seemed so fond of? They didn’t help Greg’s sanity.

Jack was everything Jade wasn’t—bold, brash, and utterly self-assured. On weekends, when Jade was working, Jack had no qualms about lounging around the house in just his boxers and socks, often spreading out on the living room couch as he played Call of Duty, legs wide apart, giving Greg a front-row seat to the show he didn’t dare admit he was watching. Greg could barely stand it when Jack would casually call him “mate,” a term that seemed to bring both warmth and distance. And that wink Jack often threw his way as he strutted by, heading for the fridge or bathroom? It sent shivers down Greg’s spine.

One fateful Sunday morning, Jack woke up groggy from the night before, still dressed in nothing but a pair of tight purple boxer briefs and white socks. Admiring himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but smirk at his own reflection. “No wonder the birds and that gay landlord of mine can’t keep their eyes off me,” he thought, twisting to get a good look at his round, muscular buttocks. For a laugh, he jumped up and down, watching the jiggle in the mirror.

Bored and feeling a little mischievous, Jack decided to have a snoop around the house while Jade was still at work. He wandered from room to room, his curiosity leading him to the one place he had yet to explore—Greg’s bedroom. Greg was out on his usual Sunday morning jog, so Jack felt emboldened as he pushed open the door.

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Trick or Spank – By Callum

Trick or Spank

Ryan and Jake had earned quite a reputation in their quiet suburban neighborhood . At 18, they considered themselves masters of pranks, especially around Halloween, where they liked to target unsuspecting victims. But their favourite targets were a nearby gay couple, Sam and Alex, who lived down the street. Ryan and Jake would often strut past their house, teasing and mocking them in exaggerated ways. Their favourite move? Bending over right outside the couple’s yard, flaunting their round behinds in tight athletic shorts, knowing it would get a rise out of Sam and Alex.

One October evening, with Halloween approaching, Ryan and Jake decided to step up their game. They walked past Sam and Alex’s house, dropping candy wrappers in their driveway before bending over to pick them up, slowly and suggestively. They laughed hysterically when they noticed the couple watching from their porch.

“Don’t break a sweat checking us out!” Ryan taunted, giving a smug smirk.

“Yeah, we know we’ve got the best view in the neighbourhood,” Jake added with a wink, patting his behind.

The couple had had enough. They exchanged knowing looks and decided that this Halloween would be the last time these two brats would get away with their childish antics.

Sam and Alex were no strangers to a good prank themselves, but they believed in the power of teaching lessons. They had a plan—one that would target exactly what Ryan and Jake took so much pride in.

Halloween night arrived, and the air was thick with anticipation. The streets were filled with trick-or-treaters, and the whole neighbourhood buzzed with festive energy. Sam and Alex prepared their house for their own “special visitors.” They had decorated the outside perfectly, making it inviting with cobwebs, spooky music, and flickering jack-o’-lanterns, all to ensure that Ryan and Jake wouldn’t suspect anything unusual.

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That Thing is Juicy – By Kinky Callum

That Thing is Juicy

A story and illustration by Kinky Callum

Disclaimer: all characters are 18+ fictional ai generated adult males in consensual roleplay scenarios, this story contains spanking and  some

Mild sexual content.

Every time I open TikTok, I tell myself I won’t do it again—I won’t check Tyler’s profile, but I always do. It’s like I’m drawn to it, like I don’t have any control over my own thumbs as they scroll through my feed, inevitably landing on one of his latest thirst traps. The guy is everywhere, and he knows it.

Tyler’s the campus TikTok star, the golden boy that all the girls want with that wavy blond hair, chiselled jaw, and a tall lean shapely body that could have been carved from marble. Everyone knows him, and everyone either loves him or wants to be him. Sure he’s immature , obnoxious, cocky, everything that should make him unbearable. But somehow, all of that just pulls me in deeper. He’s such a stereotypical cute straight boy..

The way he struts around, knowing everyone’s watching, it drives me crazy in ways I can barely admit to myself.

Today, it’s that viral song. *Good googly moogly, that thang is juicy.* And there he is, walking away from the camera in slow motion, his muscular little bubble butt swishing with every step in those tight-fitting gym shorts hiked way up. I can’t look away. His legs are super long, muscular, the kind of legs that make you wonder if he’s real or if he’s just stepped out of some gay porn fantasy.

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