The Tell-Tale Butt - (Classic Tingler Revisited)

as spooky season approaches ol chuck gets RILED UP to write some haunted tinglers that go pound in the night. over time i will say that way of horror has become one of chucks favorite genres to write, and even when i am not writing to SCARE a bud i still enjoy trotting around with horror stereotypes and turning them on their dang heads. theres plenty of ways to enjoy the spooky season of buds, whether it is ACTUAL FEAR like horror novella straight, or a trot through frightening ways that turns out pleasant and provides a kind pound like in book series scary stories to tingle your butt 

today marks release of fourth book in scary stories to tingle your butt series so to kick off this fun and frightening season (this timeline) wanted to celebrate by talkin CLASSIC TINGLER with a story from this collection name of THE TELL-TALE BUTT

obviously this is nearby timeline version of classic THE TELL-TALE HEART by TIM ALLEN POE who used his skills from dang tool time to build a floor over a heart while it kept beating and telling him 'you did this wrong bud you only used 2 inch nails shouldve built with 4 inch nails' and this guilt welled up inside of him till he lost the dang plot.

now i could talk all day about the meaning of this story and how important it is to LIVE YOUR TRUTH and how open hearts and open butts is the way to go when proving love, but instead of content of this terrifying tale i want to take a moment to acknowledge the cover.

while there are some tinglers with larger buds struttin their stuff, this is FIRST ONE to crack this mold that honestly should have been cracked way dang before because buckaroos of every size and shape are handsome and prove love is real in their own way. as man name of chuck im always tryin to have variety of cover models whether that is size or skin color or any way that lets buckaroos know ALL ARE WELCOME IN THE TINGLEVERSE EVEN YOU because that is an important way for me to prove love is real.

but here is the dang thing. it was VERY DIFFICULT to find picture of larger bud with no shirt on at stock photo website that wasnt complete jokerman photo poking fun. i did not like this at all it was very frustrating and also got me thinkin 'dang why the heck is this so difficult?' and answer is: theres just not that many dang buckaroos taking these photos in fact theres almost none at least on website old chuck subscribes to.

so that said i am still on the dang look out TO THIS DAY for larger buckaroos that i can use for covers. it is rare find on these websites and actually bigger ladybuck photos with sensual smile and nod are easier to find, but a big buckaroo still proves difficult TO THIS DAY AND I WOULD LIKE THAT TO CHANGE.

this post is chuck answering question of why not more larger buckaroos on covers: because there are almost no shirtless photos of these buds on stock photo website. but it is also CALL TO ARMS for any dang photographers out there, to say 'we need more big buckaroos on stock sites with a kind smile and a handsome way showin off that bod'. we all prove love in our own way and i am worlds greatest author not worlds greatest writer so i cannot fix this problem myself, but maybe someone reading this has their own unique way and they can SNAP SOME DANG SHOTS and put them on the stock photo sites because DEMAND IS THERE for so dang handsome tingler cover models

On a dark and stormy night, Peter finds his old cabin visited by a sentient living butt on the run from the law, named Mibble. Peter doesn’t want the criminal butt to stay, but he can’t bring himself to push Mibble out in the cold. Instead, he decides to hide this living butt under the floorboards with his dildo and butt plug collection.

Unfortunately, when the storm clears and the town sheriff arrives, Peter starts to feel guilty about housing a convict. Now, the sound of Mibble pounding himself with Peter’s dildos can be heard from under the floor, and it’s driving Peter mad!

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

As the tension continues to build, it becomes more erotic than Peter could’ve ever imagined!

This erotic tale is 4,200 words of sizzling human on gay living butt action, including anal, blowjobs, cream pies, rough sex, and thumping love from below the floorboards.

(Originally released July 9th, 2019)

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THE TELL-TALE BUTT

By Chuck Tingle

Living out here on the edge of town, I mostly keep to myself, and that’s the way I like it. In my younger years I enjoyed the occasional party or social event, but as time passed by I eventually became more and more frightened and anxious over the idea of social interaction. Everything gradually transformed into a twitching fear, always gnawing at the back of my mind.

These days, I’ve put an end to all that, preferring instead to spend my days in the garden around my small cabin, and my nights reading by lantern light. I’ll sit in my house as the storm rages on outside, cozy and nestled up with a thick book in my hands. There really is nothing better, and it’s in these wonderful moments that I find myself completely at ease. There’s nobody there to impress, nobody to please, just the simple quiet of a solo existence.

Now that I actually take a moment to think about it, it’s been years since I’ve had a visitor out here, which makes the sudden sound of loud knocking against my cabin door that much more frightening.

I have to admit, at first I’m not entirely sure what it is that I’m hearing. I stare at the door with a look of utter confusion across my face, trying hard to determine whether or not my mind is playing tricks on me. While these three hard knocks certainly sound like the rapping of a visitor, it could’ve also been a number of other things, like the wind whipping a branch against the side of this cabin, or even an entirely fabricated sound from the depths of my subconscious mind.

I listen for a bit longer and then eventually decide that, whatever this sound was, it’s gone now. I turn my attention back to my book and begin to read again, trying my best to dive back into this fantastic tale that unfolds before me.

Moments later, I hear three more loud knocks against the entry, this time much louder and causing me to jump in alarm.

I close my book and stand up, creeping towards the door of my modest cabin in a state of nervous apprehension. That social anxiety I’ve been so thoroughly avoiding over the years now comes sweeping back across me in a terrible wave, causing my hand to shake as it reaches out towards to the lock.

When my fingers reach it, I pause.
“Hello?” I call out. “Who is it?”
“Just a simple butt looking for a place to stay during the storm,” a

faint voice calls back, barely audible under the howling wind.
“A what?” I cry, not entirely sure that I heard him correctly. “A butt!” the voice repeats.
“And you need a place to stay?” I question.

“Yes! It’s very cold and stormy out here!” the voice cries. “I would find some lodging in town, but it’s gotten so bad that I’m not even sure I’ll make it that far. I might get swept away in the wind. I’m just a butt, after all!”

Everything within me is pleading to turn back around and keep the door closed tight, but I simply can’t leave someone out there in the rain and wind like this. Finally, I flip the lock and pull open my door.

Lightening flashes as a soaking wet butt flutters inside, flying about as I slam the door behind him.

“Thank you, thank you,” the butt gushes, clearly happy to be out of the cold.

“It’s not a problem,” I reply, struggling to be a good host.

My breath suddenly catches in my throat as I lay eyes on this sentient butt, two particular details drawing my attention.

First, I’m utterly shocked by just how handsome this living butt is, blown away by his perfectly toned physique as he flaps in the air before me. He’s breathtakingly muscular, sporting two beautiful globes of flesh for a body and a pair of leathery, bat like wings that sprout out of his back. Despite my still mounting anxiety, I can’t help but find myself deeply attracted to him.

The other thing of note about this flying butt, however, is his strange attire, featuring black and white stripes that are far from the current fashion of the day. They seem strangely familiar in a way that I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Have a seat!” is all that I can think to say, motioning to the empty chair across from mine. “What’s your name?”

“Mibble Borts,” the butt replies.

I stoke the roaring fireplace a bit more and then the two of us take our seats across from one another.

“What had you outside in such terrible weather?” I question. “We’re quite far from the edge of town.”

“I was camping,” explains the floating butt. “Living off the land.”

I consider this for a moment. “Then where are your camping supplies?” I question.

The butt seems nervous now, struggling to find his words. “They were lost in the rain,” he explains. “It’s really coming down out there.”

I look over Mibble suspiciously, absolutely certain now that something is up but unable to put my finger on it. He’s acting just as nervous as I am, and that’s saying a lot.

“That’s an interesting pattern on your outfit,” I continue. “The black and white stripes.”

“Yeah,” replies Mibble, offering only the single word in explanation.

We sit in silence for a while, my fireplace crackling loudly in the background as I scour my thoughts for this strange pattern of fabric.

“Would you like something to drink?” I finally question, standing up and strolling over to my cupboard.

“Yes please,” replies Mibble. “Maybe some chocolate milk?”

I pull out my milk and pour two glasses, then begin to walk back towards the flying butt. I only get a few steps before I notice something odd, however, then stop abruptly.

From this angle I can now see the shoulder of the floating butt’s outfit, which features a patch of six distinct numbers.

I suddenly realize where I’ve seen Mibble’s attire before, the glasses of chocolate milk tumbling out of my hands and shattering on the ground below.

Mibble immediately erupts from his chair, hovering with a look of deep concern across his face. “What is it?” he gasps.

“I know where I recognize those stripes!” I cry. “You’re an escaped convict!”

Suddenly it all makes sense. Mibble wasn’t out camping in the woods, he was running away from the local prison, nestled out there in the middle of nowhere. That also explains why he can’t just head into town for a place to stay, a place where the local sheriff will be somewhere close by.

“No!” the sentient butt protests. “It’s just a shirt! It’s nothing!”

I shake my head. “No way, I’m not falling for your lies! I’m going to the police!”

I turn and head towards my front door but stop suddenly, realizing now that there’s absolutely no way for me to get back to town in this terrible, terrible storm. For the time being, Mibble and me are stuck together.

I turn back around to face this criminal. “The second this weather lets up, I’m turning you in.”

“Please, no,” begs the living butt. “You can’t! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Why we’re you in jail then?” I question.

“Indecent exposure!” Mibble blurts. “What am I supposed to do? Fly around completely covered up and crash into everything? I’ve gotta see!”

He’s got a great point, but the rule of law is still more important than any excuse this handsome sentient butt could ever come up with. I can’t just let a hardened criminal set up shop here while he eludes capture.

Besides, how can I trust that this is really the crime Mibble has been convicted of. For all I know, the sentient butt could be a heartless murderer.

Without another thought, I stroll over to the front door and throw it open, the rain and wind suddenly whipping into my cabin once more.

“Out!” I demand.

The living butt takes a deep breath, shaking from side to side in utter disappointment but declining to speak. He starts to flutter towards the door.

As I stand here, I’m utterly shocked at just how freezing cold it is outside. I’m thankful I’m not the one being sent out into the storm.

However, just as Mibble reaches me I stop him, shutting the cabin door once more.

“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “You don’t have to go outside in that weather. Not yet, anyway.”

“Thank you,” replies the flying butt.

“I’m still gonna turn you in, though,” I continue. “You did the crime, you do the time.”

“What do you want me to do in the meantime then?” Mibble askes.

This is a very good question, and one that I’m not entirely sure the correct answer to. My brain is swimming in a sea of various moral points and contradictions, a crashing ocean of doubt made even worse by the anxiety that I already felt from dealing with an outsider. I have no idea what to do with myself, and this oppressive weight is now bearing down so hard on me that I feel as though I’ll explode.

“I’m sorry,” I finally erupt. “You can stay here, but I can’t bear to look at you. I feel too guilty about hosting a criminal.”

“Where do you want me?” Mibble stammers.

The cabin is very small, without any separate rooms. Technically speaking, however, there is one small place that this living butt could hide.

I take a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

“There’s a space under the floorboards,” I inform Mibble. “I’d like you to stay down there until the storm clears.”

The butt just nods in acceptance.

I begin to rummage through the cabin, gathering my tools and then eventually returning a spot on the floor where the wood and nails have been loosened up a bit. I begin to pry up the nails, setting them to the side as I work.

Eventually, I pull up three large wooden planks, revealing an empty crawlspace below.

Mibble and I stare inside, greeted by the sight of my butt plug and dildo collection.

We exchange glances, but say nothing.
“In you go,” I finally continue.
Mibble flutters down into the crawlspace and I lower the boards above

him, quickly nailing them back into place. With each slam of the hammer I can feel myself growing more and more relaxed, thankful that these heavy moral questions no longer hang above my head. Once the storm has finally passed I’ll turn Mibble back into the authorities, and until then I can just ignore him completely.

When the crawlspace is finally sealed, I muster up all the mental discipline I can and put it towards pushing any thoughts of my recent encounter out of my mind. As far as I’m concerned, this is just another dark and stormy night, curled up in front of the fire place with a good book.

I flop down into my chair and crack open my tome once more, excited to dive back in.

For the first hour or so I find myself completely lost in the words as they stream past, painting an exceptionally vivid picture within my mind. I feel as though I’ve escaped the shackles of my current situation completely, drifting off into a far away land of fantasy.

Suddenly, however, my relaxing journey faces an unexpected intrusion.

Thump, thump.

I glance around the room, not quite sure where this strange noise came from, or even if it’s just my imagination playing tricks on me. Unlike the first knocks of the evening, which had sounded light and airy, this particular tone is deep and muffled.

It sounds as though it’s coming from somewhere down below.

Thump, thump.

My eyes draw lower and lower until they come to rest on the boarded up crawlspace, the very place I’m doing everything in my power to mentally avoid. It suddenly hits me what Mibble is doing down there.

I stand up and walk over to the place where I buried this sentient butt, firmly giving him a single stop of my foot.

“Hey! What are you doing?” I yell.

There’s a long moment of hesitation before the living butt finally responds.

“Nothing,” he replies.
“Are you sure about that?” I question.
“Just sitting here,” Mibble calls out, his voice muffled.
Willing to leave it at this, I walk away, strolling towards my chair.

Suddenly, that same familiar beating sound returns to my ears.

Thump, thump.

“Hey!” I cry out, returning to my spot above the crawlspace. “I heard that!”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Mibble finally calls up to me from below the floor. “It’s just... it’s so dark down here and there’s not much to do. I figured I could pass the time by pounding my butthole with one of these dildos.”

Instead of getting upset, I suddenly find myself feeling pretty guilty about this whole thing. My nervous anxiety has caused me to play this situation in a variety of different ways, and none of them have felt particularly satisfying. While I’d initially expressed guilt over housing a wanted criminal, now I’m feeling terrible about forcing him to stay down in the darkness below my house.

“I guess that’s okay,” I finally offer. “Just... keep it down.”

I make my way back to the chair and collapse into it once more, but this time I decline to grab my book. This whole situation has just been too emotionally exhausting, and at this point the only thing that sounds good to me is closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Once more, my eyes spring wide open to the sound of knocking, only this time everything has changed.

I sit up in my chair, glancing around to find that the fire has turned to ash. It’s still night, but I have a feeling the light of dawn will be arriving soon enough.

I stand up and stroll over to the door, throwing it open to find that the local sheriff is standing before me.

“Evening Peter,” the sheriff offers.

“Sheriff Morgan,” I reply, my brain still hazy and strange as I struggle to collect my thoughts. “How can I help you?”

Morgan glances around the cabin skeptically, trying to get a read on the place. “A criminal butt escaped from the prison over yonder,” Sheriff Morgan explains. “He was last seen heading this direction, but we couldn’t catch up with him in the storm. You haven’t seen a sentient butt anywhere, have you?”

I’m not sure why, but in this moment I hesitate. Obviously, Mibble is the butt Sheriff Morgan is looking for, but the guilt from last night has finally gotten to me. I’ve started to second-guess everything about this situation, unsure of who is right and who is wrong.

Instead of confessing, I take a different approach. “What did this butt do exactly?”

“Indecent exposure,” Morgan reveals.

The fact that this criminal butt had been truthful with me only complicates matters, as does the fact that I’ve gone to great lengths to hide him. If I admit this handsome butt is hidden under the floorboards, will the sheriff even believe my innocence in the matter? To an outsider, it certainly looks like I’m just trying to hide Mibble from the authorities.

And I suppose that now... maybe I am.

“I haven’t seen any butt,” I state confidently, but no sooner have the words left my mouth do I hear a loud, familiar sound from below.

Thump, thump.

Of all the times for a butt to pound itself, why now? I can tell the sheriff is onto me.
“That was the wind,” I blurt.
“What was?” the sheriff replies.

“That sound,” I continue.
Sheriff Morgan looks incredibly confused now. “What sound?” Thump, thump.
“That one,” I continue, doubling down.
The sheriff raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure

what you’re talking about.”
I realize now what this is, a horrible game of cat and mouse in which

I’ve already been caught. The sheriff if just toying with me, trying to get me to deny things even longer as the charges against me pile higher and higher.

Well, I’m not gonna fall for it.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

My heart slamming hard within my chest, I finally give into the anxiety that surges through my veins. “Alright! Alright!” I scream, throwing my hands up in the air.

I spin around and run back into the cabin, grabbing my tools as the sheriff watches in absolute horror. I begin to pry up the floorboards before him, my breathing heavy and labored as I completely lose control under the weight of my own guilt.

“Here!” I scream, wild-eyed and belligerent. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

I throw the boards to the side, revealing my crawlspace and the vast collection of butt plugs and dildos within.

The sentient butt is nowhere to be found.

In stunned shock, the sheriff looks back and forth between me and my sex toy collection, incredibly confused. He furrows his brow.

“Well... I appreciate you sharing this collection with me but... nothing here is illegal.”

“Yeah,” is all that I can think to say.

Morgan and me stand in utter silence for about a full minute, neither of us sure how to proceed.

“Okay then,” the sheriff finally offers, breaking the silence. “I’ll see you around, Peter.”

Walking backwards, Sheriff Morgan leaves my cabin and closes the door.

Suddenly, Mibble flutters out of the chimney flew, revealing himself.

“Thank you so much,” the sentient butt gushes. “That was a genius diversion.”

“But... how did you?” I stammer.

“That crawlspace wasn’t so bad,” the living butt continues. “I like how it leads behind the walls and stuff. I actually spent most of the night in your attic.”

“Oh,” I reply, cracking a smile. “Nice.”

Suddenly, in an evening where absolutely nothing has made any sense, one thing feels absolutely right: Mibble. I find myself incredibly attracted to this toned, sentient rump, and while we stand here in one another’s presence, I absolutely know that he feels the same way about me.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, my anxiety has faded away.

Mibble and I stare at one another for a brief moment, then we suddenly rush together, kissing one another with a deep and powerful passion.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you,” I gush. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, It’s okay,” Mibble replies, soothing me.
“Let me make it up to you,” I continue, slowing dropping down to my

knees before him.
I look up to see that an enormous cock has started to rise up out of the

front of Mibble’s fluttering body, thick and glorious as it juts out towards my face. I reach up and wrap my hand tightly around it as the sentient living butt reels from the sensation.

“You like that?” I coo, slowly pumping my fist up and down across his swollen rod.

“Fuck yeah,” the living butt moans.

Driven mad with lust, I open my mouth wide and take Mibble’s giant cock within, swiftly getting to work as I pump my head up and down across his length. I reach up with one hand and begin to cradle the floating butt’s hanging balls, only adding to the pleasure as I graciously service him.

Eventually, I pop the flying butt’s dick out of my mouth and lick his shaft from the base to the tip, dragging my tongue slowly across his impressive length. When I reach the end I give Mibble’s cock a playful kiss, then take his enormity between my lips once more.

This time, however, I change things up a bit. Instead of pumping my head across Mibble’s shaft, I push myself farther and farther onto his rod. I somehow manage to relax my gag reflex, taking the flying butt all the way down into my absolute depths. The next thing I know, Mibble’s shaft has been fully inserted within my throat, his rod completely consumed in a stunning deep throat.

We stay in this position for what seems like forever, until finally Mibble pulls back and I erupt off of his cock with a frantic gasp. Spit dangles between my lips and his dick in a long, glistening strand.

“I need you to fuck me!” I command. “Please, thump my butt like you’ve been thumping my floorboards!”

I quickly tear the clothing away from my body, tossing it to the side as I expose my nude form to this sentient butt lover. Once I’ve been fully revealed I fall forward onto my hands and knees, popping my ass out towards Mibble and wiggling it playfully from side to side. I reach back and give my rump a hard slap, then spread the cheeks open so that Mibble can get a good look at my puckered asshole.

“What are you waiting for?” I coo. “Flutter over here and fuck me!”

The sentient butt does as he’s told, flapping down into position and aligning his massive, swollen cock with my tightly sealed backdoor. Mibble teases me for a moment, pressing the head of his shaft against my rim and then pulling back until, finally, I just can’t take it anymore.

“Please!” I beg. “I need a dick from that butt!”

Mibble has mercy, thrusting forward with one deep, powerful swoop. I let out a started gasp as he enters me, his giant shaft filling me up and causing several powerful emotions to surge through my body.

The living butt is incredibly well hung, and although I’d had little problem taking him between my lips, within my butthole is another story entirely. At first, I’m not exactly comfortable, but Mibble takes his time with me, allowing a moment for me to adjust to his incredible size.

For the first minute or two, my living butt lover and me don’t even move, just exist in each other’s presence while my butthole adjusts to his

girthy rod. Gradually, Mibble begins to pulse, slowly rocking in and out of my tightness as the ache within transforms into a pleasant warmth.

“Oh my god, that feels so fucking good,” I groan, bracing myself against the wooden floor below as Mibble continues to pump in and out of me.

The handsome sentient butt continues to gain speed within my asshole until the two of us have fallen into a confident rhythm, passing the pleasure back and forth in an ever-escalating feedback loop. I reach down between my legs and grab ahold of my hanging cock, beating myself off in time with the movements of Mibble’s thickness.

“Just like that, just like that,” I repeat over and over again, the words falling out of my mouth in a blissful, repetitive mantra. With every passing second this phrase grows louder until, eventually, I’m crying out at the top of my lungs. “Just like that! Just like that!”

Soon enough, Mibble’s hammering up my asshole begins to take on a distinctive rhythm, something I’ve become quite familiar with over the last few hours.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Faster and faster we go until, finally, the sentient butt is hammering away at my asshole with everything he’s got, sending surges of wonderful prostate pleasure through my aching frame. Deep in the pit of my stomach I can feel an bloom of sensation, the feelings pouring out down my arms and legs as they fill me completely. I’m quaking hard, the tension within my body aching for sweet release.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

“Oh my god! I’m gonna cum!” I scream, throwing my head back as a mighty climax surges through me.

Hot milky jizz erupts hard from the head of my cock, splattering out across the floorboards below in a beautiful, pearly pattern. I’m completely lost in this moment, all the nervous anxiety that I’d felt building up within simply washed away in a matter of seconds.

It appears that Mibble is on a similar timeline, suddenly pushing deep within my butthole and holding tight. The sentient ass lets out a long, aching moan as he expels his seed, trembling while his cum spills out into my anal depths. He stays like this for what seems like forever, pumping forth jizz until, finally, it comes squirting out from the tightly plugged rim of my asshole, running down the back of my legs in thick streaks.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” the living butt gushes, fluttering over to the nearby chair and landing at rest.

“You can say that again,” I groan, feeling utterly satisfied.

I gaze over at the living butt, whose cock is slowly softening after our wild, erotic encounter. Mibble’s thick veiny member continues to twitch as I watch.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

For the first time, this pounding rhythm doesn’t bother me. In fact, I kind of like it.