Pounded In The Butt By The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle's Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance - (Classic Tingler Revisited)

did buckaroos hear the news? that is right chuck will be trotting down at san diego comic con this year with my own dang panel, interviewing fellow authors and proving love and breaking out ALL KINDS OF MODERN TROTS. chuck has been to sans diego many times before and even trotted around this convention but i will tell you bud to bud THIS IS MIGHT BE A LITTLE DIFFERENT.

there are ways that old chuck cannot announce to the wide world and probably shouldnt even talk on very much but here between buckaroos maybe i can give slight hint to say this is very big news for the tingleverse comin down the pipe of fate to land on our laps and i think you all will be very excited when you hear. lets just heckin say all the scoundrels and devils who said ‘old chuck is a flash in the (admittedly handsome) pan’ will have something to groan and cry about. rabid puppies will also probably think ‘oops’

anyway buds there are all kinds of buckaroos out there who have been trotting alongside chuck for a while and i think there will be more in the future but RIGHT NOW ON THIS TIMELINE would like to give special thanks to all you here who have supported chuck and giving me so much love and care and SINCERITY as we explore various timelines together. i am a very blessed bud because of you and i mean this from the bottom of my heart and my butts heart. chuck has been granted dream of CREATION because of YOU and there is nothing the void hates more than creation.

here is classic tingler about a previous convention trot PLEASE ENJOY

When Robo hears that the world’s greatest author, Chuck Tingle, is going to be appearing live and in person at the Billings Comic Con, he can’t wait to attend. Unfortunately, tickets immediately sell out after Chuck’s announcement, leaving Robo with no plan to get inside when the convention finally arrives.

But a chance meeting suddenly thrusts Robo into a hardcore, gay tryst with Pendool, the physical manifestation of Chuck Tingle’s science fiction and comic book convention appearance. Soon enough the two of them are cascade through layers of meta reality as they stumble right into a live reading of this very story from Chuck Tingle himself.

This erotic tale is 4,400 words of sizzling human on gay sentient concept action, including anal, blowjobs, rough sex, and physically manifested convention appearance love.

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POUNDED IN THE BUTT BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF CHUCK TINGLE’S SCIENCE FICTION AND COMIC BOOK CONVENTION APPEARANCE

By Chuck Tingle

As a fan of all things nerdy, I absolutely love the convention scene. When it comes to planning my year, both financially and otherwise, I end up carving out an enormous amount of resources for these annual science fiction, fantasy and comic book gatherings, and I love every second of it.

The thing is, when you start going to enough conventions they become a sort of home away from home, a second family that you can rely on in a way that outsiders could never truly realize. These people come from all walks of life, varying wide in personality and background, but with one common thread that connects them together; the fandom culture.

When I was young, these conventions didn’t exist, and the only way to find this kind of kinship was down at the local comic shop. Back in those days, you’d be surrounded by only a handful of friends, and this was more than enough. Now, the seas of fans have become endless, selling out entire convention halls as though they’re some kind of nationwide sporting event.

Of course, comic book conventions can be hit and miss. Sometimes things aren’t as organized as they should be, or the guests can be lacking. But even in these rare cases, I always seem to find something to enjoy. I suppose the fact of the matter is that, no matter what, I’m going to be around other fans like myself. So long as that happens, I’ll find my emotional batteries significantly recharged by the experience.

The opposite situation, however, is what I’m constantly searching for.

Every so often a convention will come around and completely knock your socks of, unveiling a lineup of guests that truly must be seen to be believed. The larger gatherings can typically pull in this kind of star studded appearance list, but even the smaller comic book conventions will reveal a single guest that gets me brimming with excitement, instantly aware that my weekend is going to be one to remember.

This year, the annual Billings Comic Con has done just that.

“Did you see it?” my friend Zeke asks me, bursting through the door of my office and tossing a flier onto my desk.

“Yeah,” I reply with a nod, turning around my desktop computer to face him.

The screen is illuminated with a colorful announcement ad for the Billings Comic Con, listing all of the special guests that will be appearing, and one in particular has my friend and me over the moon with excitement.

“Chuck fucking Tingle,” Zeke says.

“Chuck fucking Tingle,” I repeat back to him.

Chuck is the world’s greatest author, specializing in a specific brand of surrealist gay erotica that defies any previous boundaries that may have once existed for the genre. His fanbase reaches far and wide, across several demographics that might otherwise not be interested in his tales of love, romance, and hardcore pounding. While Chuck often writes about bigfeet, dinosaurs, unicorns and living objects, he also spreads a message of positivity and inclusivity that resonates deeply with many people across several timelines.

Of course, I don’t need to tell you that, you’re already reading this story, so you clearly have something of an idea about who Chuck is. It goes without saying, his stories can also get a little meta, as the protagonists like myself are often well aware they’re characters in a piece of short erotic fiction.

Personally, I’ve come to terms with this fact, but in other stories it can be a harrowing emotional journey.

Right now, our focus is elsewhere.

“Do you think he’s really gonna show?” Zeke questions. “I mean, is he even a real person? I thought Chuck was just some kind of art project or something. Maybe he’s a whole team of people!”

“He doeswrite books very quickly,” I admit, considering that fact that maybe Chuck isn’t actually just a single human being. “At this point, there’s basically a book for every person, place or thing that exists.”

“Pounded in the butt by the physical manifestation of Chuck Tingle’s science fiction and comic book convention appearance would make a great title,” Zeke replies with a laugh.

“Ha! I think that might be taking things a little to far, even for Chuck,” I retort.

“You’ve already got your convention tickets right?” Zeke questions.

His words send a jolt of fear down my spine, realizing suddenly that I hadn’t yet thought to make my yearly purchase. The Billings Comic Con is a big deal around here, but it has never once sold out. This year, however, I get the feeling things might quickly change after the announcement of their very special guest.

I shake my head. “Not yet, you?”

Zeke cringes. “Nope. We should buy them now.”

I turn my computer back to me and head to the convention website, quickly searching for a place to buy some tickets.

Immediately, my breath catches in my throat.

“Oh shit,” I blurt, the words falling limply from my mouth.

“What is it?” Zeke questions.

“Sold out,” is all that I can manage to say.

These conventions mean a lot to me, and the idea of missing out on the year of Chuck Tingle is absolutely devastating. I find myself just staring at the screen before me, frozen in place as my gaze lingers on the humming red pixels that spell out the words sold out.

“We’re fucked,” Zeke sighs.

My mind is racing, struggling to find some kind of solace to grab onto. As I struggle to push past the heartbreak, I find myself wondering: what would Dr. Tingle do in a situation like this?

“We’ll figure something out,” is finally announce.

“What do you mean?” Zeke questions.

“If we stay positive, and hold our heads up high, it will all work out,” I continue. “Don’t you remember what Chuck says about trotting onward no matter what?”

“But they’re sold out,” my friend protests. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“There’s always something we can do,” I say with all of the confidence I can gather, channeling the good doctor as much as I possibly can. “This weekend we’re gonna go to that convention center and we’re going to get in. I’m not sure how, but we’ll make it happen.”

Zeke obviously isn’t as convinced as I am, but he does his best to go along with it. “Alright, alright. I’m in,” my friend finally announces with a nod.

The Billings Convention Center is buzzing with excitement when Zeke and I arrive, pulling up and parking at the edge of an utterly enormous parking lot. There are only a few empty spots left.

We climb out of the car and immediately find ourselves surrounded by immaculately costumed fans from across the world of science fiction, fantasy and comic books.

It would be incredibly exciting, if not for that fact that we’re still not sure whether we can even step foot through the convention center doors. Instead of slamming with excitement, I find my heart hammering away in a state of overwhelming anxiety.

“Let’s go,” I tell Zeke, the two of us falling into step with the horde of other pedestrians as we make our way towards the large, rectangular building.

My eyes are peeled for anyone who might be selling an extra ticket or two, but despite my best efforts I can’t seem to find a single person.

“Shit,” I murmur under my breath, unable to control the sudden outburst as I realize this is going to be a lot more difficult than I once thought.

Eventually, we arrive at the looming front entrance of the convention center, falling in line behind an enormous drove of fans.

“What are we gonna do, Robo?” Zeke questions, finally pushing back against my seemingly eternal optimism.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

Finally, we arrive at the front door, where a security worker with some kind of electronic scanner in his hand asks for our tickets.

In a last ditch effort, I consider pretending that I forgot them and begging for mercy, but I quickly decide against that. I want to come at this as straightforward as possible.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have any tickets,” I admit.

The security guard just stares at me blankly for a moment. “What?”

“The convention tickets sold out before we had a chance to get one,” I explain. “We just need to get inside and meet Chuck Tingle.”

The second I say this, the security guard cracks a smile. “I get it. I’m a buckaroo, too.”

“So you can help us get in?” I reply, my eyes wide with excitement.

“Do you think that would prove love?” the security guard questions.

“Of course!” I blurt.

The security worker and me continue in our awkward stand off for a minute as the words sink in. I actually start to consider what he’s saying, analyzing the practical reality of it all.

“Really?” the guard finally questions. “Because sometimes it’s not always that cut and dry. What about the other people who paid? Is it fair to them if I just let you in? Or the fact that this convention center is at a capacity limit for safety? A local group of comic book fans put this together, not some big corporation… is it fair to them?”

“I didn’t really think about that,” I admit.

“How about the fact that I could get fired for letting you in, so you’re actually kinda putting me in a really awkward position right now,” the security worker continues. “I’m not some asshole hoping to bum everyone out, I’m just a guy trying to work hard and keep a roof over my head. I need this job.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think of that, either,” I admit.

“Sometimes proving love is simple, where the forces of good and evil are laid out before you and you’re given a choice. Most of the time, however, there’s going to be a lot of grey area,” explains the security worker. “I couldlet you in, but is that really fair?”

“I don’t know,” I stammer, glancing over at Zeke for a little help, but finding none.

The security guard shrugs. “It’s your choice. What does your heart say?”

I close my eyes and think long and hard about the implications of this question, about what the morally correct choice is and whether or not either side is really right.

Ultimately, I realize that I don’t know the answer.

“I have no idea,” I admit, “but, personally, that makes me not feel great about the whole thing. Sorry to take up so much of your time.”

I turn around as Zeke follows behind, strolling away from the front of the line with our heads hung low.

“Wait!” someone suddenly calls out.

I stop, turning around to see that the man standing behind us in line is waving Zeke and me back towards him. I also notice now just how unexpected his appearance is, a man in a suit with a head made of swirling pink bags and sunglasses.

My friend and I return to the front of the line.

“Hey, I couldn’t help but overhear you just a minute ago,” offers the man with the swirling bag heads. “Are you two looking for tickets?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a nod. “Why? Are you trying to sell yours?”

The man make of swirling sunglasses and bags chuckles. “Oh no, you can just have these.”

He hands Zeke and I convention tickets.

“Oh my god,” I stammer. “Thank you so much.”

I want to gush even more but I quickly realize we’ve been holding up the line for quite a while. Before I know it, we’re scanning our tickets and heading through the doors of the convention center, emerging on the other side in utter amazement at the events that just transpired.

“Thank you, thank you,” I repeat to this mysterious stranger.

“Why did you give us those tickets?” Zeke questions, trying to get to the bottom of this.

“For the sake of an important lesson,” explains the man with the swirling head made of pink bags and sunglasses. “I wanted to show that proving love is real can be simple sometimes, but very complex others. The point is, if you lead with your heart, specifically your heart’s butt, you’ll find yourself taken care of in the long run. You looked inward and didn’t feel right about the situation, even though that choice was to your own detriment. I wanted to repay you for that.”

“Who are you?” I finally say, completely dumbfounded by this enigmatic stranger.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says with a laugh. “I’m The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance. That’s why I had those extra tickets to give away.”

I nearly faint right then and there. “Wait a minute, you’re Chuck Tingle?”

The swirling head of multiple pink bags shakes from side to side. “No, no. I’m not Chuck Tingle. Chuck Tingle is the one writing us, he’s the one who wanted this story to have a moral lesson before getting right down to the butt pounding. I’m just the sentient manifestation of the idea of his appearance.”

“I still don’t quite get it,” I admit.

“It’s fine, you can just call me Pendool,” he offers. “That’s another name I go by.”
 “Pendool,” I repeat back to him, allowing the syllables to move slowly across my lips as they spill out of me. There’s something incredibly sexy and masculine about that name, and now that all the commotion of getting through the front doors has slowed, I find myself quite intoxicated by the deep, soulful eyes of The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance.”

Zeke notices this connection too. “Hey, I’m gonna head inside and start checking stuff out,” my friend announces, trying to be the best wingman he can by getting out of our way. “I’ll meet you inside.”

“Sounds good,” I reply, then offer him a quick wink when Pendool’s not looking.

“So you actually know Chuck?” I question the second Zeke leaves, trying to make conversation.

“Yeah, I do,” Pendool informs me, “but so do you.”

A laugh. “Trust me, if I knew Chuck then I wouldn’t be this excited to meet him.”

“Don’t you remember how this story began?” Pendool questions. “You said ‘Of course, I don’t need to tell you that, you’re already reading this story, so you clearly have something of an idea about who Chuck is.’ You even went out of the way to explain that you’re a meta protagonist.”

“That doesn’t mean I know Chuck,” I stammer.

“It means you know that you’re a character in a book,” The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance retorts. “And based on the amount of times that Chuck has been mentioned, I’m guessing you’re closer to knowing him than you think.”

There’s a strange, crazy logic to everything that Pendool is saying, but I still can’t quite allow myself to admit to the reality that is unfurling before me. “I don’t know about that,” I stammer. “If this is really a Chuck Tingle book, then why isn’t anyone fucking yet?”

The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance smirks knowingly, a simple, playful expression that somehow pushes my attraction to him even farther into overdrive. I find myself completely overwhelmed by arousal, and the next thing I know the two of us are moving through the concourse, away from the crowds and towards a back hallway that leads around the edge of the convention center.

“I want you,” I tell him breathlessly.

The two of us push through the doors of this empty hallway and, the next thing I know, we’re making out passionately, our hands roaming across the muscular topography of one another’s bodies. I try to kiss the manifested idea but find his swirling head of masks impossible to choose from. Instead, I start to kiss The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance’s shoulders and neck, stripping away his jacket and tossing it to the side.

Eventually, the two of us are in nothing but our underwear, completely lost in this moment of carnal passion. The exploration continues as my hands begin to make their way lower and lower across the sentient concept’s form, hesitating for a moment at the waistband of his underwear and then finally diving in as I grab ahold of his enormous, swollen cock.

I wrap my fingers tight around Pendool’s member, immediately getting to work as I begin to stroke him off.

“Oh fuck,” The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance groans, leaning his head back and reeling as the pleasure surges through his body. “That feels so fucking good.”

Pendool begins to pump his hips along with my movements, finding a nice pace as I beat him off enthusiastically. By now I’ve dropped to my knees, gazing up at him with a look of aching lust in my eyes.

Without warning, I open wide and take the living concept’s mammoth rod between my lips, bobbing my head up and down across his shaft as he continues to moan and groan above me. I cradle his hanging balls as I work him, giving this erotic encounter everything that I’ve got.

Eventually, I pop Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance’s cock out of my mouth, sucking on his balls for a moment before slowly dragging my tongue from the base of his shaft to the very tip. When I reach the end of his cock I kiss the head playfully, then open wide and swallow him yet again.

This time, however, I have more in store than just another blowjob. Instead of pumping my face across Pendool’s dick, I take him farther and farther down into my gullet, refusing to pull back. The rod drifts deeper, sliding well past the expected limits of my gag reflex until, finally, it reaches the absolute hilt.

Suddenly, I find myself with my face pressed hard against the handsome living concept’s abs, his cock lodged within my neck as he places his hands against the back of my head. We stay like this for a good while, held in this position as Pendool revels in his erotic dominance.

Eventually, however, I’m forced to pull back with a sputter and a gasp as I run out of air, trying frantically to collect myself as a flood of erotic desires spills through me. I am utterly belligerent with lust.

“More,” I stammer. “I need that huge cock of yours inside me ass. I need you to fuck me right fucking now!”

I fall forward and crawl away from the handsome living idea, swinging my hips from side to side as I show off my perfectly toned rump. I reach back and pull off my underwear, exposing myself completely.

“You like what you see?” I coo.

The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance nods in appreciation of my perfectly sculpted form.

I reach back and give my ass a slap, then hold the cheek open for him to get a good look at what’s in store.

“What are you waiting for?” I continue. “Get down here and fuck me!”

Pendool does as he’s told, climbing down into position behind me and aligning his enormous dick with my tightly puckered anal seal. The second he finds his position he thrusts forward, impaling me across the length of his enormous member as a started yelp escapes my lips.

It had been one thing to service this handsome sentient concept orally, but taking his girthy member up my butt is another entirely. He’s utterly enormous, wielding a formidable rod for even the most seasoned anal adventurers. The second that Pendool enters me I find myself tensing up, my fingers gripping tight against the cement floor below.

“Oh fuck,” I groan. “That dick is so big.”
 Fortunately, Pendool is a caring lover, taking his time with me and allowing my body to adjust to his incredible python of a dick. At first he doesn’t move at all, just giving the muscles of my asshole a moment to relax, then eventually begins to pump slowly in and out of my body.

Gradually, the discomfort within me begins to slip away, transforming into a pleasant, aching warmth that pours through my veins and cascades across my arms and legs.

Soon enough, the two of us have fallen into a confident pace together, The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance slamming into my butt with a series of ferocious movements that cause the pleasure to bloom exponentially.

I reach down and grab hold of my hanging cock, beating myself off in time with these mighty plows up my backside. Now these two distinct sources of bliss start working in tandem with one another, building in a feedback loop that never seems to end as it escalates across the nerves of my body.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” I breathlessly repeat, my eyes shut tight as the volume of my mantra grows louder and louder.

Suddenly, something else fills my ears.

I reach back and signal for Pendool to stop, the two of us hesitating as we simultaneously cock our heads to the side.

Someone’s coming.

Immediately, The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance and me separate, struggling to gather our clothes as the voices grow. Someone is walking briskly towards the doors of this empty convention hallway, and in a matter of seconds they’ll be bursting through to find us naked and sweaty.

Before this happens, however, Pendool springs into action. The sentient concept grabs me by the hand and the two of us take off running nude down the hallway, leaving our clothes behind.

“Come on,” the sentient manifestation instructs. “In here.”
 With only moments to spare, we duck into the first room we can find, erupting out into a packed convention space where a panel has been set up. The room consists of several convention attendees facing a stage, sitting in rows and rows of blue folding chairs, while a row of panelists speak into their microphones.

Pendool and me have found ourselves standing naked between the two sides.

“With only moments to spare, the two of us duck into the first room we can find,” one of the panelists reads, then stops abruptly, gasping when she sees us.

“What the fuck?” she blurts into the microphone.

“I’m so sorry!” I cry out, waving to the crowd as though it might make some of this even the slightest bit more understandable. “We didn’t know anyone was in here.”

“That’s okay,” comes a familiar voice.

I turn around to see one of the panelists standing up from behind the long table, reveling himself to be none other than Chuck Tingle himself. He’s wearing a white Tai Kwon Do gi and has a pink bag over his head.

“Oh… Chuck,” I stammer. “I’m sorry to interrupt your panel.”

“That’s okay, buckaroo,” Chuck offers. “We were just getting to the good part where the fourth wall disappears.”
 I narrow my eyes at him, not entirely understanding. “What do you mean by that? The fourth wall was pretty thin to begin with.”

“This moment is all part of the story we’re reading aloud, within the text story that you’re aware of,” Chuck explains. “This panel is a live Chuck Tingle reading, and now you’re part of the dang story! Actually, we’re all part of the dang story. See all these people?”

Chuck waves at the crowd and I turn around to gaze across their smiling faces.

“They’re characters in this story, too, and they don’t even know it,” Chuck explains. “They all think this is just some crazy art project or something, or a book that keeps getting more and more meta, but they’re actually characters in a book.”

“Just characters in a book?” I repeat back to him, a little shocked to hear it said so plainly. It’s not like I hadn’t had the same realization myself, in fact, I did just a few moments earlier in this very tale, but hearing my own author speak these words so bluntly gives me pause.

“No, no, no,” Chuck replies, shaking his masked head. “Not just characters in a book. You added the word just, not me.”

“What’s the difference?” I question.

“Every good book needs characters,” Chuck explains. “Characters that look deep into their hearts and do what’s right. Characters who decide to prove love is real and end up with a ticket to the big convention, or characters make a new friend by proving love.”

The author nods towards the physical manifestation of his own convention appearance.

“It’s all important,” Chuck explains. “No matter what layer of The Tingleverse you’re on, nobody is just a character. Together we make the story, and without any single one of us this story would be drastically different.”

I’m suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. “Thank you,” is all that I can think to say, first to Chuck, then to Pendool, and then to the crowd behind me. “Thank you for making my story so fun and strange and entertaining.”

Suddenly, two security guards burst through the doorway. They stop when they see Pendool and me standing naked before them, not quite sure how to handle this.

“Are these guys… part of the panel or… what?” one of the guards finally asks Chuck.

“They’re part of the story,” the author explains.

“Soooo… what do you want us to do?” the security guard continues.

“Do what you think is right,” Chuck offers, “and do it with love.”
 The security guards seem confused at first, slowly turning towards one another.

Suddenly, they rush together, kissing passionately as the entire crowd erupts in wild applause.

Chuck sits back down and picks up reading where the other panelist left off.

“Chuck sits back down and picks up reading where the other panelist left off,” he says, “and as the convention goers watched they felt a sense of overwhelming warmth, excited to head out into the world and prove love is real in a story of their own.”