It seemed only fitting that I was dressed in the same outfit that had gotten me into trouble in the first place, though, perhaps “dressed” wasn’t the right choice of words, seeing as how it consisted of a pair of...
Member: sprite
I’d made assumptions about Chelsea, or at least the content of her journal. She’d talk about her day, her feelings, perhaps offer a little insight into what made her tick. Anything but what it actually contained. To say that I...
I like to tinker. Always have, ever since I was a kid. Anything from taking apart a DVD player and putting it back together to building models from scratch. Later, I graduated to laptops. Soon after, I started designing things. ...
In the year sixteen hundred and forty twoLoaded down with kegs of rumSailed a powerful pirate shipIt’s name was Ropes of Cum, boys,It’s name was Ropes of Cum. Her Captain was Red LizzyNo one knew where she was fromShe ran the...
She has no shame. None whatsoever. It’s been replaced with confidence and a touch of cruelty. “Strip.” She snaps her fingers, expecting – requiring – quick obedience, never mind that the curtains are pulled back and the room is well lit...
Focus.She tastes like lemon tart. Must remember to tell Lizzy.Focus.She’s gorgeous and that’s not me seeing the world through rainbow colored glasses. She really is. Tall, blonde, athletic. She would have fit right in on the women’s volleyball team.Focus. It’s been...
(First entry from the Diary of V.Dorofeyev, translated from the original Slavic by O.Delacroix)i.With the help of Pavel and Yngvild, I was able to close the portal, sealing the cavern behind us before we were driven mad. Even now, a...
Pretty Wild
"A custom story written specifically for Pretty Wild. <3"
Flowers in Her HairThe flowers were waiting for Julie when she pulled up to her apartment. A bouquet of daisies resting upon the welcome mat putting a smile on her face. Even after all these years, she mused as she...
She kept her eyes closed, concentrating on the touch of fingers on her exposed nakedness, attempting to decipher each stroke into a shape without overloading her mind (much as the flurry of so many hands were overloading her senses). A...
Strangely, Prel’s reluctance rekindled the spirit of motivation in me. I’d become complacent, losing myself in the haze of sexual desire and that of the potent berries that were so easily obtainable. The Kintinku provided me with a challenge –...