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RV Summer Trip Stonebrow!AN26.8FkH6 11/04/04(Mon)19:05 No. 11682 ID: d30cf6 [Reply] [First 100 posts] [Last 50 posts]

tags: incest, m/f, outercourse, frottage

later chapters will include sex and oral, but nothing real kinky

Sam looks like http://filefap.com /view/1279532_bxm0q
•••••••••••••

It was time for the yearly family vacation again. I’m not sure why we kept up this tradition as it usually caused more stress than it relieved. But in between the long periods of dysfunctionality, loathing, and irritability that we caused one another while on it, we usually managed to have some shining moment of family fun that my parents would look back on 11 months later and decide it was worth doing again. Isn’t the human mind’s ability to filter memories amazing?

So, once again, my parents, Sarah and John, my older sis, Samantha, and myself would be stuck in a RV on a cross country road trip to see some great American landmark. Cue Weird Al’s Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota. Sam(antha) and I heard the news a week before summer vacation, just long enough for us to properly dread it’s coming and mourn the loss of yet another summer to goof off with friends. Hell, I’d have rather have gotten a job and made some cash. But it wasn’t to be. The Parkers would be going to Key West. This brought mixed reactions from my sis and me. Good food, good weather, beaches? It was too good to be true, I’m pretty sure both Sam and I were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But as our departure date approached, everything seemed to be going fine.

Everyone had packed for the last three days, and my dad was going to pull up with the rented RV any minute now. We lived in Raleigh, North Carolina, so it was going to be a bit of a trip. Since Sam had turned 16 this year, she was really hoping she’d be be able to use her newly acquired learners permit and drive part of the way. She had been moping about for a few days after dad told her she shouldn’t learn on an RV. My dad’s an okay driver but in hilly areas he didn’t feel assured even letting Mom drive. I guess Mom’s better than some, but she’s still a woman. Don’t give me that; like legends, most prejudice is based upon a kernel of truth, and I’ve been driven by enough women to have the experimental data to back it up. So Mom, Sam, and myself, 15 year old Jason Parker, were standing outside on the driveway at an ungodly hour of the morning with a large pile of luggage, waiting to see what sad excuse for a RV would roll in. My parents are both college professors, which is why they can both get the summer off every year, though apparently they go through a lot of trouble to do so. But it also means that Dad is sometimes frugal when I wish he wasn’t.
I looked around, running down my mental checklist. Told all my friends, check. Got my PS2, check. Plenty of underwear, check. Laptop and charger, double check. Toothbrush... that was in my big suitcase, maybe? I ought to check. Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


235 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
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Stonebrow!AN26.8FkH6 14/08/26(Tue)07:15 No. 22348 ID: 05ab80

>>22147
This is sooooo dead it's not even funny.


>>
Anonymous 15/02/25(Wed)07:41 No. 23317 ID: 97814b

Ah, this was really good times, back in the day.

An awesome story, where I was pining for some good old brother/sister incest stories.

Also, I cringe at how transparent of a bump this is.


>>
Gilbert 15/02/25(Wed)09:01 No. 23318 ID: 9b9120

This was the story that got me hooked on this board and erotic literature in general, shame to have it end so abruptly.




The Realms: Prologue IE!Fn5Xsal0nQ 14/04/24(Thu)23:15 No. 21604 ID: 4ed8c3 [Reply]

i was feeling kinda creative, so i decided to make a world. steampunk was an afterthought, and i figured i could make it work. feedback is appreciated, but please spare me the tl;dr crap. i know my other story gets that, but for this post at least, i'm using the "giant block of text" effect for my advantage.

Scene: Victorian Age
Labels: fantasy/ mythology, borderline steampunk, plot, 1st person
Kinks: it's a secret


...
Of the orders of nymphae, there are five: gnomes, undines, sylphs, salamanders, and sprites. Each of these corresponds to a specific element of the natural world--earth, water, air, fire, and aether (respectively)--and as such, colloquial terminology calls these creatures elementals. It is commonly misstated that the first of these claimed an essence and that is how they came into being. However, their existence more accurately predates the world. In some circles, it is widely accepted that the mechanisms of nature itself found origin in the nymphae, and indeed that they continue to be carried out through direct influence. This, of course, gives rise to the question of their appearance. Though it is true that nymphae obscure their presence in the material realm on a regular basis, of those that can take physical form, there are numerous. The reason for undergoing this process of materialisation is not fully understood; the human mind finds it counterintuitive, for it has long been known that the life of a nymph is most vulnerable to harm when one assumes a physical state. This is seen most strongly in the case of the sylphs: arguably the most delicate order, there is no factual record to-date depicting a material personification of these creatures. In following that theory, the hardy gnomes are often encountered in nature, as though by some deliberate need for attention.
In this way, that which we see in nature and, in fact, that which we are, existed first in the nymphae. Rock is rigid because gnomes are so, water fluid because the undines are. Even the existence of the aethereal realm has long been questioned, because sprites are sly and scheming creatures. To one who has ever been graced with the sight of a nymph, the form would undoubtedly appear as a human; but this, as with much of our thought, is backward: it is we who actually appear nymph-like. In understanding this sort of precedence, we begin to learn much about the nymphae. For example, being physical creatures, we know very well the limits binding us. The animal form is an assimilation of the five elements: bones, blood, breath, nerves, and soul (respectively). The vegetable form only lacks fire. A nymph, when binding itself to the material, experiences similar limitations, though this depends greatly upon the essence of the individual's nature. Sylphs, if indeed they can be said to take on form, are least bound among the orders, and salamanders second to that, though these Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


18 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
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The Missing Link IE!Fn5Xsal0nQ 14/05/28(Wed)00:02 No. 21838 ID: 4ed8c3

We left the statue in its trench and walked on through the trees, she leading and I following close as we wove our way around other hidden traps. We talked back and forth. I showed her the journal, and told her about Mr. Bryant; I filled her in on William and the swamp; I left out the part about my deal with the nymphs, but told her how I'd found and freed the golem. "I thought, perhaps, it was an oread," I'd said. Her response made my ignorance show all the more.

She'd told me much about her mother, and her father, and all of her siblings. Her name was Sama, and she was the eldest of her direct family. Their village was very communal, and she admitted how strange it'd seem to outsiders. Her father had other children by other women, and the way she spoke of him made it seem as though he were some tribal chief. But she insisted they were very civilised, and perhaps every bit as modern as I'd been raised.

My stomach rumbled off and on, and I'd told her how my last meal was a sole apple that appeared out of nowhere. "Sounds like a gift from a mother," Sama commented.

"A...mother?"

She just smiled knowingly, and I was about to ask her what she meant when the most delightful smell wafted through the air. We now walked side by side as I followed my nose, and she giggled in shared pleasure. The terrain had begun to roll gently, and trees were grander, as tall and heavily built as though we had instead shrunk in size. Roots arched outward over our heads, and as we went beyond one, the sounds of jubilation came faintly to my ears.

The deeper we delved, the more cluttered the landscape became: strewn with shattered boulders that had roots sprawling through their cracks, plants with wide plates of leaves that bobbed as we walked past, thick carpets of moss lining the bark of roots. Some spaces narrowed quite uncomfortably along the path Sama brought me through. She continued on nimbly, even vanished from view except for a flick of colour 'round a massive trunk or beyond lush overgrowth. The thickness of the forest and the shade cast by root and canopy alike brought on a gentle ambience, a faint glow of silver as though the mists of the swamp had returned; yet the air was not so stagnant, and vision was not impaired, and in fact it was an altogether softer atmosphere.

Now her presence ahead of me was concealed entirely. I'd have lost my way, if not for the intensifying stream of gaeity--deep notes reverberating through the wood and clear shouts once in a while, and the swollen aroma that had me drooling to find its source. I came at last to a curtain of vines, and as I reached my hand to part them, it was drawn instead by some other force.

A great shout welcomed my arrival, and it did not take long for me to learn that, for some strange reason, this celebration was being had for me. In the midst of t Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Quenching a Queen's Quest IE!Fn5Xsal0nQ 14/05/29(Thu)00:05 No. 21842 ID: 4ed8c3

His erection remained, only now it shone and glistened along every inch, and if its sharp creases, meandering veins, and deep colours were lacking before, they were now clearly illustrated beneath my saliva. I could feel small pieces of his cum still sliding down to my stomach, where an unnatural amount should have filled my hunger but instead only teased my appetite. I knew not how it happened; I did not consider why it had never occurred. All I knew was that my body was craving more of this white honey, and I needed to get it, before I'd truly go insane, or else sense myself to be dying of thirst.

I'd licked my lips in an instant, but the clumps that landed upon my breasts were, to my mind, stale. Their own heat carried over with that given off by my skin, but they'd started to separate, to become runny and drip over my body like sweat. I could not explain it even if I had the capacity to ponder the phenomenon: my mind simply did not consider it acceptable anymore. Only the freshest of man's milk would suffice.

And I could not imagine how much would be enough, for my stomach felt bloated with semen. Had it been filled so with beverage or food, the thought of more would make me sick. But now, the thought of more was the only thought I had. It was not desire: it was necessity. If I were drowned in cum, my being would think it the greatest feeling yet. And if this man's refractory period was nil, that seemed to be a likely conclusion for me.

This man. Who was he? I glanced at him once or twice, beyond the focus of this wonderful piece of meat. He looked familiar, but only slightly. In honesty, whether I knew him or not didn't matter at this moment. For he had given me this feeling, and could supply more toward it, and as far as I could tell he was willing to offer it. Perhaps I'd made it pleasant for him. Perhaps he'd needed release and I freed the pressure from him. In that moment, there was only us: he, whom I could not place, and me, whom I did not know. His purpose, then, was only to provide for my need; and my purpose, only to obtain it.

I'd squeezed and stroked his masterful weapon, lewdly passed my tongue over and along it, suckled its swollen head and even jabbed my tongue inside it to gather some straggling bits of flavor. The taste, the scent drove me. I hungrily lapped up a meaty sphere and managed to get it past my teeth, drooling around it as though my body would swallow it whole. It popped free from my lips, oozed long trails of spit down to the ground as my tongue explored the underside of his shaft, flattened and pushed his skin along, and tickled the base of his glans.

I was content in my efforts, presumed him to be as well; but I'd forgotten that we were not quite so alone. A whisper caught in my ear, made my mind pause and my eyes open, my tongue linger and my worshipful hands falter, but I carried on soonafter as t Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Rediscovery IE!Fn5Xsal0nQ 15/02/20(Fri)23:59 No. 23300 ID: 4ed8c3

The moans of lusty women, the cries of their ecstasy, harmonized with the pounding bass that drove itself through the ground, throbbing like a heartbeat in this secret wood. The thought surfaced in my mind that this tribal sort of orgy was not a regular occurrence, that the hamadryad had not been this gracious--this caring, this open, this sensual--in many seasons. It was my doing. There was neither question of it nor deliberation over it. The change in me, the explosion of willpower that now gave me control over so much, was the spark which kindled the raging desires that now surrounded me. As I left the crown of her roots and returned to the encampment where I was first greeted by so many wanton dryads and half-breeds, their bodies now littered the grounds, writhing like foreign forms, with limbs intertwined to touch and grab and squeeze and insert within whatever body parts they could reach.

Moist skin and scaly leaves were alit with the silver ambience shed by the dancing flame at the center, where now I could clearly see a woman's figure standing within the fire's core. I glanced, as if the presence of her was to be expected--I was clearly a different person than when I'd entered here only moments ago. The light flickered and pulsed with the low booming of the ground. With each burst of energy, the creature within would change her position, in an instant, like some sort of slow-motion dance, erotic to say the least.

My steps were light, as though cautious, yet I needn't really give thought to them. With each downward point of my toes, they slid into a crevice left among the bodies and found the dirt beneath them, just long enough that I should find my next step nearby. My sights moved from the fire to the bodies, to the faces which sometimes showed themselves, to the ladies gaining pleasure directly from their mother. There were easily a hundred dryads gathered here, all submitted to the call of lust. And I walked over them as though their goddess, pleased with what I saw.

Slowly, my circuit continued through the pool of women, young and older. Occasional arms rose to feel my bare legs, though none pulled to beckon me to join them. I would not have it. It was pleasure that these sought, but I now belonged to a different tier. My mind was set on something these could not supply me, and it was not my desire to help them.

I peeled my eyes from their sexual dance, drew the focus of my ears from the sounds as I looked on at the curtain of vines where I had entered, a smile across my face as I exited their presence into this newfound reality. Steadily, the scents faded and the humidity sank, the heat of their bodies--greater than the fire's--removed itself from the air about me, and the deep drumming mellowed into the serenity of this now bare wood. I felt as though I'd passed through a portal, like how one is pulled awake from a dream. My mind was clearer now than i Message too long. Click here to view the full text.




Tori - The neighbor's neice rancidpants 14/10/22(Wed)21:53 No. 22593 ID: 22535f [Reply]

I work from home. I’ve been doing it a long time. So I know the comings and goings of my neighborhood. I know that at 1pm every day, the neighbor behind me goes out on the back porch and plays her guitar. I know the guy across the street grows pot. I know a lot about what goes on.

I have a neighbor, Carol. She’s great. She has yard sales most weekends when it doesn’t rain. She’s an older, single woman, with a great-niece. Her name is Tori.

Tori started coming around the neighborhood about 3 years ago. Her parents both work. She goes to school nearby and she started showing up at Carol’s for the afternoons. She’d been around for a couple of weeks before I really noticed her, but when I did, I couldn’t stop noticing her. She’s tallish, about 5’8” or so. Long tan legs, long tan torso, long neck, brown hair, great eyes. And she’s got that slightly underdeveloped, but strong and athletic type of body that screams “I play soccer and I like it”. It also screams “Look at me!”

I spend a lot of time on the phone for my job, and I often go for walks when I have a call. Its more interesting than sitting at my desk staring at my computer—except when there’s a good confession to read. It was on one of my walks that I first noticed Tori. I was about a half mile from home, cruising along at a good pace. Coming toward me was this beautiful, long and lean and tan, adolescent girl. I figured her for about 14 or 15. She was walking a massive collie. I knew the dog. It was Carol’s dog. Like any man, I pulled the stop and wait trick. I stopped suddenly, looked very surprised as though one of the people on the other end of the phone had just said something terrible, and looked like I was listening hard. I let her walk past me and get about 20 feet away, before I rounded, headed back the way I’d come, walking about 20 feet behind her the half mile home. I watched her the whole way.

She was amazing.

I started noticing that she was coming around the neighborhood a lot. I chatted with Carol nonchalantly about things, mentioned working parents, etc., and she mentioned her great niece. So, I used this in to learn about her. Indeed a soccer player, and track. 15 years old. Tori.

I’m a photography enthusiast. I have some good gear. Including a nice 200mm lens that I started using when Tori would sit out on Carol’s grass and do homework, or play with the dog. Late spring and early summer were fantastic. I’d shoot long photos of Tori out there in beautiful light, small, tight outfits, sweating. Oh my god. The sweating. She’d lay out there in a bikini sometimes, tanning with oil on her back, her top untied to get rid of lines. I’d amassed a pretty large photo collection that I would look at during my meetings. During work I would just scroll through the photos looking at her. Then, around 2:45pm, I’d make my way to the front window and watch her walk up. Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


19 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
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A reply.. rancidpants 14/11/02(Sun)04:28 No. 22697 ID: 22535f

Well, I wrote this over the course of a few months last year. Incidentally, things changed for me during the course of writing. So, what seems like an epilogue isn't one.


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Anonymous 14/12/19(Fri)05:13 No. 22992 ID: dd76b5

>>22697
So, you're gonna finish the story?
I'd love to keep reading it.


>>
Anonymous 15/02/14(Sat)22:24 No. 23272 ID: 9fe3d0

Bump from me in hopes that OP will continue




The Office Feedback1020 15/01/31(Sat)00:38 No. 23174 ID: db507b [Reply]

Part 1

You even have ‘One of Those Days’? From the very beginning everything goes haywire and it’s completely downhill from there? Well, welcome to my world.
To start off with the laundry room in my building flooded the day before and it looked like it would be a week for it to get fixed. No big deal, right? Wrong. I hadn’t done my laundry yet and now I was completely without...um...hell, underwear. Yep, I waited too long and now I’m stuck going to work ‘commando.’ Again, no big deal, right? Normally I would agree but I had just started a new job and didn’t want to do anything to screw it up. I didn’t think I would have any....accidents....but why take the chance?
Determined to work through it I put on a dark pair of slacks, cobalt blue dress shirt, off-white tie and my newly shined oxfords and headed out the door to work. Straight into my second slap of the day: a boot on my not-so-new (ok...really old) car. “Oh, for crying out...” I started to say then realized this one was completely on me. Need to really pay more attention to those handicap signs.
All righty then, to the bus we go and fortunately the ride was uneventful. And I only got to work ten minutes late. Normally, that could have spelt my doom but it just so happens on this day my one and only co-worker was also late. As I was sheepishly trying to sneak in the front office door, she was doing the same through the rear office door. We both froze and locked eyes for a moment. She had been working there for a number of years and new all the routines like the back of her hand. She was always polite but I felt that she was a little resentful that the bosses had hired someone new. For what seemed like several minutes we just stared at each other waiting for the other to say or do something. Finally, as if on command, we entered the office, closed our respective doors and strolled to our work areas. There was a note on my desk from one of the bosses informing me that they would both be out the entire day. Well, at least something was going right.
As I said, my co-worker had been in the office for quite a while and had made herself pretty much indispensible to our bosses. When I first started she had to train me on the day-to-day functions as well as special cases in case they popped up when she wasn’t around. And, as I said, she was always polite and professional, but always a little stand-offish. Today was no different.
Even after our mutual lapse in timely arrival she went about as if nothing had happened. After a few minutes she came into my little work area and gave me my tasks for the day. Nothing too difficult as befitting the newbie and promptly left in a swish of her flowery (but professional) skirt.
It was some time before Murphy’s Law struck again. It was just a few hours into the work day and I decided to take a break and get some coffee. The break room was at the back of Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


6 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
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Feedback1020 15/02/06(Fri)17:41 No. 23241 ID: f574a0

>>23214
Somewhat. More of a fantasy using real people. Also, writing this way allows the reader to put themselves into the story.


>>
Feedback1020 15/02/11(Wed)00:12 No. 23260 ID: 4ef205

The Office Part 3

Some time has passed and the normal routine of feast and famine keeps everyone in the office occupied with one thing or another. The air is turning cooler and the leaves are changing indicating the coming autumn. It’s that time of year that you go into work lightly bundled up against the cool air but peel off the layers later in the day to keep from breaking out in a sweat. Today was just such a day.

I had just loosened my tie when the front door swung open and a middle-aged man entered in a rush. Like everyone else he had a jacket on but immediately began perspiring once the door was closed. In addition to the change in temperature from outside to inside he was obviously a little upset about something.

“I need to speak to someone and I mean right now!” He said.

“Yes sir,” I responded. “Who do you wish to see and what seems to be the problem?”

“None of your business! I only discuss my business with management, not the hired help.” he cracked.

“Okay sir. Let me get you someone that can assist you.” Needless to say I was biting my tongue at this little exchange. I retreated to the back and spoke with my co-worker.

“Hey. Someone out here has a problem and wants to talk to someone. He won’t tell me what the problem is or who he wants to see. He’s actually acting like a jerk.” I explained.
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Soli 15/02/14(Sat)03:46 No. 23271 ID: cd8c01

>>23241
That makes some sense, and leaving the main character nameless is sometimes a good way to allow the reader to deposit themselves into the role.

However, you should be careful not to be overly vague. Leaving all your characters nameless, i.e. referring to her only as "coworker," can sort of pull the reader out of the story instead of pukk them in, especially if another coworker were to become part of the story. It can get confusing. Have you considered having your MC come up with internal nicknames for her, or other characters like you did with the pissed off guy?

Also, it might be good to give the readers some idea what this guy does for a living. At first it seemed like sales or a customer service rep, then all of a sudden he's up front standing in for the receptionist?

The story is intriguing, and I'm interested to see where it goes. It is a bit difficult to stay immersed in though.




Envy. (futa, oral, creampie, impreg, anal, gangbang, solo) Kuro 15/02/12(Thu)22:00 No. 23267 ID: d1a69f [Reply]

As the door shut, I realized it isn’t just being a housewife that is so unsatisfying. It iss the loneliness. My name is Evelyn I am a living cliché: the lonely housewife.

It isn’t such a bad thing when my spouses are in from work and the three children home from school. The empty feeling only comes once the kids close the door on the way to bus stop. Sometimes I walk with them, but they complain, saying it is embarrassing. My husband, Martel, says I need to give them space to grow and become independent. But he isn’t lonely; he fills his days with work then comes home and takes the lion’s share of the twin’s attention and affection.

The youngest daughter, Giselle is different from the twins though, like night and day they are. Whereas Lena and Leon, are both skinny bright-eyed and happy-go-lucky, Giselle bears little resemblance to either of them, she is a plump and broody sort, frequently excluded by her older siblings, if not for her age then for her personality. Thereza, my wife, says her mother was the same way.

And it made sense: Giselle resembled her maternal grandmother so much in appearance, why not in disposition as well?

But recalling Giselle’s parentage is a sore point I take pains to avoid, because it reminds me of my failures. Naturally Martel and Thereza are too considerate to ever so much as insinuate that, but I can feel it. The void left unfilled, the dreams deferred, a burning sense of inadequacy that gnaws at my soul and brings the loneliness crushing down upon me. If I don’t check these harmful emotions, they’ll take root and lead to darker places.

They’ve led there before.

***

Once we were married, I’d immediately dumped my birth control and announced my intention to get pregnant as soon as possible. Martel and Thereza were both ambivalent, not really being comfortable as much with each other as they were with me. But they both loved me more than anything, letting me lead the charge, so the last few nights of our honeymoon were spent “making a sandwich.” Thereza on the bottom, taking advantage of her flexible gymnastics-honed body with her ankles up by her ears as I fucked her like a rabbit in heat, Martel pressed against my back, pounding my fertile pussy like a madman from behind. I remember the feeling of his huge hands yanking my hair back as he drained his nuts inside me, with Thereza kneading and massaging my big floppy breasts at the same time and both of my new spouses whispering sweet nothings and nasty fantasies as we lay exhausted in bed together.
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.




Uncommon Knowledge Editor!78cy1vRbBI 15/02/05(Thu)21:13 No. 23216 ID: a899a7 [Reply]

Preface:

I did not write this story—diary, journal, whatever—and I do not know who did. I have, however, edited it extensively. A computer geek friend of mine passed it on to me, over a period of several months, in disconnected segments and with many missing parts. Apparently he got it off a computer left at the curb after a garage sale, after it had been through several other garage sales, I understand. The hard drive had been erased and partially overwritten, but he was able to retrieve many of the original files, including parts of this one. I’ve been trying to assemble them in logical order and fill in the missing pieces as best I can. My friend says there is more in the file, and he is still working on it. He says that so far, the only identifying information he’s found is of two subsequent owners, not the original one.

This is not copypasta; I have Googled it to death, and I find nothing else matching any parts of it. If anyone does locate the original elsewhere on the Internet, please let me know so I can credit the author. I have wanted to share it somewhere, but I found the subject matter to be too hot for most web sites, until I discovered this one. I hope it will be received in the spirit it was written and shared.

I have no idea if this story is true or not; I’ll let /elit/ be the judge. Personally, I’d like to think it is, just to know that there is such happiness as these young people have apparently found somewhere in the world. I took the liberty of applying the title myself, and I use “knowledge” in the biblical sense. For those who want these things up front, it involves:

Tweens, teens, twincest and intersex.



MS Word 2002 file:

Title: Journal
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


24 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
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Anonymous 15/02/08(Sun)01:44 No. 23251 ID: 07da93

>>23225

I don't believe that a friend of yours happened to find a journal from a 12 year old that uses just as many incorrect semicolons as you do.


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Editor!78cy1vRbBI 15/02/08(Sun)09:27 No. 23254 ID: a899a7

>>23251
Did I mention that I edited the text? Forgive me if I inserted an inappropriate semicolon or two.


>>
Anonymous 15/02/09(Mon)21:53 No. 23256 ID: 2f049a

I don't give a shit if it is real or not. I'm enjoying the story. Keep going!




The Fenix Apsallar 14/09/06(Sat)22:19 No. 22392 ID: 8a2109 [Reply]

--This is a science fiction story. It has slavery, submission, domination, punishments, mind games and other perverted stuff for your enjoyment.--


Let me tell you how I ended up on the pirate ship Fenix. I was a graduate in mechanics. My first posting was supposed to be on a deep space mining facility in a backwater system of the federation. It was not going to be fun that was for certain, but without practical experience I could not dream about working on a real ship, even a merchant one. Not with my barely passable grades. I had always been interested in mechanics, taking after my father. I am good in practice but terrible in theory. That’s why I went to a crappy university and barely graduated. The mining station would be a low paying, long hour’s job. I definitely was depressed to start that part of my life. My journey out there was trough the Tach-SW star system. Part of the 5th colonization wave, it was a poor dump, hundreds of jumps from any civilized core world. Planet Otake boasted only one space station functioning both as a passenger and trade terminal. My last trek would be completed from here by a cargo ship doubling as a passenger. The worst part was, I was going to an even poorer system.

Everything on this station looked old, ancient. Patched together by countless maintenance jobs. It was obvious there was no money for new systems. I was fascinated by the air purifiers, recognizing models long out of production but still humming in this antique station. One year in the mining facility and I could apply for a job in such a place. The biggest perk being near a planet where I could take a vacation. Even if it is such a dust ball as the grey uninvitingly looking planet of Otake. Waiting for my ride I mused that with a salary of a space station engineer I could afford to visit the local entertainment. Brothels as cheap as the drinks and the food. The security people started moving so I guessed that it was time for the gate to open. There were about five hundred travelers taking this ship. No wonder there was no dedicated passenger ship on this run with so few candidates to travel onwards. I had truly arrived at the edge of the federation. At least I was almost there.

I passed the time while going through the security checks in daydreaming about my new job. About having a really big breasted supervisor. She would be showing me around, inpatient with me, shoving those fun bags at my chest angrily. She would have sweat drops going down her neck towards…. A big clank noise signified the decoupling of the ship from the station docking clamps. Green ticket holders like me were led by a hobo looking crewmember towards out loggings. They turned out to be a single room with twenty beds, depressing. Apparently my company can’t afford single accommodations. I would need to complain to my imaginary big breasted manager. It would be tree days until we approached jump space. I decided t Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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The Fenix Apsallar 14/12/21(Sun)01:41 No. 22999 ID: 8a2109

I walked down the service corridor with my young girl behind me on a leash. I had to bend so as not to hit my head. We were going to service junction G-23. It was near the engines of the ship where the second stage compressors delivered their energy. I loved the white noise so near the propulsion system. So relaxing, it drives most thoughts from one’s head.
Since the compressors in an emergency situation could overload and breach, the junction was on the outer side of the ship. It had a large glass designed to explode outwards and relase the plasma into space during an emergency. We reached the junction and I closed the heavy security door behind us and went to check on the other two leading to this room. Once all secured, on the comp terminal I overrode the access permissions. Until I decided no one would be able to come inside. Not that anyone probably came here anyway.
I dropped my backpack and took out the double blanket from it. I took the inflatable fender and started pumping it full of air. My pup was listening to the strange noises, blindfolded, I was leaving to her imagination to picture what was happening around her. I left the pump to fill the fender and just sat behind my youngling to admire the view. She was standing in front of the glass, her small silhouette in front of the amazing vista outside. We were very near the star of this system. Our Captain took us so close since the nuclear fusion which powered the star released flares making active sensor tracking very difficult around it. I cheeked independently that the filters were adequately breaking the sun’s light and then resumed admiring the stunning body in front of me. Not the interstellar one, the young human one.

She stood nervous in her shorts and tight top I had provided for her this morning. She was holding her hands nervously in front of her, rubbing them. I had not tied her, just blindfolded. Her legs were silk smooth. I loved her skin. So soft and young, just perfect. I started caressing her as she trembled under my touch. We had been intimate now for some time and she knew the drill. The new place and her being blindfolded made her more fearful than usual.

I took down her shorts and admired her white panties. The soft fabric going in her slit, her soft skin, her small hips. I wanted to burry my face between her legs but resisted the urge. The sun’s light made her skin shine and glisten.

I slid her panties slowly. She was still holding her hands, squeezing them nervously, her head bent towards the floor. I kissed her legs, her tummy, I removed her top. Her still growing breasts had goose bumps on them. There she was naked in all her glory. I was the luckiest bustard alive. I stood back just watching her naked confused body against the sun. I reduced the incoming light further so the plasma filaments suspended by the stars polarity could be better distinguished. She and the star behind her were heavenly. Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Anonymous 14/12/21(Sun)10:27 No. 23002 ID: 36e3b1

Excellent as usual!


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Anonymous 15/02/05(Thu)02:34 No. 23213 ID: 2b9284

>>22392
Superb, keep it coming sir




Hall monitor (mind control, f/m, maybe f/f, fair amount of story) Paz 15/01/19(Mon)03:39 No. 23136 ID: ebd7e7 [Reply]

School let out for the day, and ready to meet the unruly throngs of St. Mary's Private Catholic Academy was Meagan Scuderi. The cost of enrollment here attracted a certain kind of student: the entitled and jaded, those raised amid decadence and conservative tradition. The combination of those things and the religious affiliation of the school tended to bring out the worst in those who went here.

Despite these factors, Meagan felt herself an unspoiled beacon of hope here. She was in key club and varsity choir. She helped out at pep rallys and worked in the front office whenever she wasn't in class. The adults seemed to like her, or at least liked handing her responsibilities, and that meant that her peers found her obnoxious at best.

She didn't let herself dwell on the fact that no guy had come anywhere near her since the 6th grade. The reason wasn't that she didn't take care of herself. Meagan prided herself on both her sense of fashion and on the strides she'd made in crossfit. In fact, the person she spoke to the most often was the personal trainer at the gym her dad had agreed to pay for last summer. Finding herself growing more distant from all of her peers, she could count on one hand the number of classmates she even talked to regularly.

Distracted by a couple of freshmen boys shoving into an 8th grader, she nearly missed the cloud of smoke that came fromt he far end of the hall she was supposed to be watching.

Meagan shouted, "Hey, I see you. Stop that!", and was shocked when Darren Appleby looked back over his shoulder and took a drag from his cigarette. Two of the cheer girls shoved past her on their way to the buses downstairs, nearly knocking her over, and Darren moved quickly down the hall toward the parking lot.

She had lost sight of him but ran down the hall after him, knowing where he was probably going. The bad kids always went behind the building to smoke until Phillip Horning's sister showed up to pick them up. She rounded the corner and as the general chatter fell away behind her, she shoved her way through the door into the stairwell and shouted in surprise as the door rebounded immediately, knocking her sideways into the handrail.

Meagan only barely caught herself before running face-first into it. Laughter immediately ensued and she whirled around to see Darren, Phillip and Ben Goodwin cracking up at her expense.

"I'm writing all three of you up!" she shouted, fuming mad that, even in private school, there were these types that loved to try and get the best of those who always tried so hard.
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Paz 15/01/30(Fri)19:23 No. 23172 ID: ebd7e7

Growing bored, Meagan walked around her old neighborhood and looked at the houses there as though she was visiting from the distant future. Could this have all grown so alien in only a couple of weeks? The time had flown for her, but here time seemed to stand still.

She remembered her conversation with her father about how she'd been making progress at the gym and that made her think about how much she missed it. She missed Antonio too, and smiled when she thought about how he was different from the "trainer" in the porn yesterday. Antonio was a pleasant baked bronze color from working out in the sun instead of a neon orange from frying in a tanning bed. Instead of only having glamour muscles built up, he had functional strength and when she thought about his thighs the time he squatted three plates during a demonstration she found herself chewing her lip.

Maybe there was time to squeeze in a late night workout afterall. They weren't closed for another 25 minutes and she could probably talk them into staying open a little longer for her. She hoped Antonio was there still, because she didn't have his cell phone number. She could just call the help desk though.

She dialed the main number for her gym and a woman answered in French-accented English, "Atlas Fitness, this is Bethany, how may I help you?"

"Hi, Bethany, this is Meagan Scuderi. I was wondering if Antonio was in this evening" she asked, hoping that he was.

"No, I'm sorry, Meagan. He usually goes home around 6. Would you like for me to take a message for him?"
She hesitated, "Um, could you tell me his number? I need to tell him something directly."

There was a longer pause, "Why?" Bethany asked flatly.

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Anonymous 15/02/02(Mon)15:50 No. 23195 ID: 4c2b43

Still good


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Paz 15/02/05(Thu)01:42 No. 23212 ID: ebd7e7

As Bethany laid down onto her back, Antonio knelt at her feet and began bending one of her legs back toward her chest. The growing bulge in his gym shorts strained toward her and Meagan began to play with her nipples again. The more she teased them, the more she wished she had decided to play Bethany's part.

He bent both of her legs back at the same time, resting his hips against her ass as he folded her in half. Bethany reached down to where he rested against her and pulled his shorts down over his ass and legs. His tan cock landed against her black tights where her thighs met, and she parted them slightly before squeezing his cock between them.

Meagan had liked the porn, but despite feeling conflicted about it not being her, was enjoying this even more. She massaged her mound through her sheer compression shorts and was lost in touching herself as she watched her trainer grind against the taller, dark haired woman.

"I thought you were helping me to stretch?" Bethany asked him.

"But now I want you" he answered with his eyes closed, still pushing into her through her tights.

"So? Go take care of yourself then. You can't just have me any time you want" Bethany scoffed, sliding back away from him.

Meagan was jarred back to reality as the two apparently got into an argument on their own.

"You do this to me so often. Tell me to meet you here and then tell me to leave."
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sister fucking (ff,fdom,inc,loli) wut 12/07/16(Mon)12:49 No. 16643 ID: aecf9f [Reply]

A repost, since I'm thinking about getting back into writing.

------------------------------

I always knew my sister was different, but when I was 16, I found out just how crazy she really was. When I was a little girl her age, I was interested in dolls, horses and my favorite television shows. If I had any thoughts of sex at all, it was only a strange, distant yearning when I saw cute boys - I definitely didn't know what it meant. As a teenager, halfway through high school, I thought I had a pretty good grasp on sex and what it was all about, but it turned out I was wrong about that as well.

When I say she was different, I don't mean she looked weird, or was super smart or had telepathic powers or something - I just mean she always seemed more wordly, more aware than she should have been for her age. She didn't excel at school; in that respect she was just normal, but she always seemed to understand what grownups were talking about, at least when it came to relationships.

She was a master manipulator, and I think tapping into people's feelings and their desires or secrets was something that just came naturally to her. I remember when I was 12 and she was 6, we wanted to go to the water park so badly, but our dad wasn't having any of it. I had already tried every trick in the book from crying to begging. Then Sammie started asking these seemingly innocent questions and making just off-the-wall remarks about his work and our mom. At the time it didn't make any sense to me, but now that I think about it, and now that I know how she operates, I see that she somehow keyed in on what was bothering him: his work and the shit our mom was giving him for not making enough money. Those are some pretty esoteric concepts for a six year old, but she just sort of felt her way to them and used words and terms she'd picked up from our parents' fights, which she probably didn't even understand on a literal basis. To me it looked like my dad just got annoyed with her enough that he took us simply to shut her up, but now I think she made him so uncomfortable without him knowing why it was happening that he gave in - but put up a gruff front like it was for some other reason. Anyway, needless to say, Sammie got her way - a lot.

As for me, even in middle school I started getting attention from the boys, and I was actually excited about going to high school and expanding the selection of cute guys I could choose from. I was always into soccer and cheer, and I guess you could say I was part of the "popular crowd". Unlike some of the dumb girls on my teams, I still got good marks though, and I never gave up my virginity, no matter how much I wanted to. Knowing what I did about Sammie, it doesn't surprise me that she could tell I was oversexed and wasn't getting the kind of relief I so badly wanted. What was surprising, is t Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Anonymous 14/11/11(Tue)21:17 No. 22780 ID: b9a090

I just saw this bumped, and it is the best thing I have ever read. if op could keep posting some sex scenes thqt would be fantabulous


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【Treecko】 !mcEVilkunM 15/02/01(Sun)07:46 No. 23185 ID: a76b67

i am very sorry OP. I had a copy of the original post. It is lost but i will do my best to find it.


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【Treecko】+!mcEVilkunM 15/02/01(Sun)07:53 No. 23186 ID: a76b67

I bring good News. I have located my copy of the original post.

OP if you would like i can post your original form of section 3.




Discovery Anonymous 15/01/29(Thu)15:31 No. 23168 ID: b00e3d [Reply]

This is partially inspired by "Roommates." Feedback is always welcome.

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You rub your tired eyes. Your fingers push and yield a few small tears to clear some of the sleepless grit away. You have school tomorrow. At least my homework is done, you think, at least there's no last minute rush to finish. The silent red numbers burn into your retina. 4:30am is ever so unpleasent to your senses and you shift yourself away from the depressing blue glare of your monitor. You make your way slowly to bed and collapse heavily into the somewhat dingy, yet welcoming sheets. As your eyes close you think, maybe I should have brushed my teeth...

"Anna. Anna!" You jerk awake to the persistent call of your mother. Step-mother. Whatever. Your eyes open to the streams of brilliant spring sun peaking through the blinds. As you lift yourself upright and sit you see your clock reads 6:45am. The pulsing semi-colon matches your slow heartbeat as seconds tick slowly by.

"Anna! You need to get up! Your father is leaving in 20 minutes and you need to go with him. I can't take you to school today." Step-mother pushes open the already ajar door and peers in at you from behind a basket of laundry. "You need a real bed, baby girl, you look exhausted." You nod slightly and attempt to blink away the glowing sunlight.

"Mom," you hear yourself say, "I need to take my driver's test sometime this week."

"Okay, honey, just let me know when you can and your dad or I will take you." Step-mother's receding voice ventures away toward undone chores. You stand to follow. "Just get ready right now, Anna, you have to go."

Shoot. It's almost seven. You look down at yourself. Cami, panties. Not enough for school. You look across your room for some scraps of clothing that might be wearable. Jeans, there by the dresser. Good. Bra hanging from the closet door-knob, check. You slip off your cami and stretch as you pull the garment past your head.

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Anonymous 15/01/30(Fri)13:14 No. 23170 ID: f5b1c2

I don't see how depressing grimderp and rape have anything do with Roommates.


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Anonymous 15/01/31(Sat)19:09 No. 23177 ID: 036a9b

Is she going to call the police? She better call the police. At the very least she had better tell a teacher. Shoving a girl's face into alley grit is high levels of uncool.




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