Professional Curiosity

By Maxijohndoe. Rose exchanged the usual morning greetings with her colleagues as she headed to her workstation. Rose wasn’t her real name, but it had been easier to Anglicise her name rather than trying to teach English speakers her Chinese name. Rose worked as a lab technician to make enough money to see her through the many years of study and training it would take to be a pathologist, as the small amounts of money her parents could send her

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Brutus

By Anon Part of my training in journalism was being taught to keep a journal of my daily experiences and thoughts. The content of each incident was supposedly less critical than any reflections you might make later about these experiences. This is one such narrative. My widowed father died when I was twenty-eight, a year ago now. He left me his townhouse and the general estate. It gave me a vehicle and a posh place to stay for that summer

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The Bully & his Dog!

By Bullied Victim Guess what. I’m a dog fucker. Yes. That’s true. I know you probably think that sounds unbelievable. Who in their right mind would spread their legs and offer their cunt to a dog? Okay, so maybe I’m not entirely sane. I can explain, though. At least I can try. I can make an effort to tell you how I became this shameless bitch in heat. Have you ever been bullied? I mean, really bullied? I’m not talking

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Rich Bitch

By alcaira Part 1 Susan had almost everything. When it came to money her parents allowed her to have anything she wanted. Money was no object in her life. She even had two cars and was looking at a third one. She had a red Mustang convertible, a black Trans-Am and now she wanted a midnight blue Corvette. She loved sports cars and she had a feeling that her father was going to get the Corvette for her as a

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The Sorority Pledge (Gay Zoo)

michioliphant. So, I went to college, graduated in ’68, a Midwestern engineering college, up in the cold. I was gonna take-the world by storm as a mechanical engineer. That was the plan. I got to college, my first day and I’m geeked, really geeked. Being an engineering college, it’s mostly guys. I mean, the ratio was like 300 to 1, guys to girls. Of the girls, like half were super Uber bright, and on a mission, no distractions; half of

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Nikki’s Journey

Ikeman Prologue Nikki lay flat on her back exhaust, sweaty and covered in the juices from her and her lovers. She lay on the large, cushioned mat covering the middle of the “playroom”. As she recovered from her latest mind blowing orgasm, she looked at her lovers as they lay around her cleaning themselves, relaxing, but also very attentive to her every movement. She reached out to touch, stroke and gently thank each of them. As she moved slowly from

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The Great Dane Days of Summer

Kenta Ryx You know those moments in life, the ones where you realize something big has just happened, and that things are going to be radically different from that point on? Most of the time they happen in wedding chapels, board rooms, or back alleys if you’ve messed up a lot. Well, I’m sure Kenta would like to think that very few of them happen in bedrooms with the family dogs huge and throbbing cock inches away from her lips,

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The Good Samaritan

JulieBlue My first experience with bestiality was a several years ago and happened by accident. I was living with my boyfriend who had a house and some land outside of town. He had horses so there was a barn and some small out buildings on his place. While out riding Jake came across a dog and it followed him home, He was a very sweet dog some kind of mix, hound and who knows what, about 26 inches tall and

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Marta’s Canine Encounter

JulieBlue My name is Marta. I am from Spain. The story I am about to tell you is true. It happened about five years ago in a small village on the coast of Spain. I was on holiday with my boyfriend Arturo, and we were staying for a week in a little beach cottage that his family owns. Arturo had gone on a day trip to visit some friends in another village 30 kilometres up the coast, and I decided

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The Adventures of a Dog Whore

Rachael Ross (edited) I was in the park, my usual spot for a warm Sunday afternoon. It was nice and clean after a long week of spring rains, everything had turned green and the sky scrubbed blue. Not a cloud in it. And I’d found a good spot near an old beech tree to put my big quilt comforter. It was old and a bit ragged, a classic patchwork of fabrics, hand stitched by my own grandmother before I was

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