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/elit/ - Erotic Literature
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CubeCrafter LTB 14/12/12(Fri)09:15 No. 22957 ID: 227ac4 [Reply]

About this story and me:

This story will probably take a while to get to the naughty parts. I want to make sure you care about the characters and world I create before I just have them fuck each other. I write my stories as realistically as I possibly can, too, so you probably shouldn’t expect anything too out there from this one. That being said, if at any point you feel that my story features something that you find unbelievable please do not mention it. As much as I love feedback (and believe me, I love feedback) I don’t think comments like that will contribute anything. I’m writing about an already rare and taboo occurrence (incest) from a perspective I don’t have (I’m an upper middle class male) in a 1-in-a-million scenario. Of course some things are going to seem unusual.

I’m not sure what to tag this because I write my stories as I go along and include whatever I feel like. This story mainly features incest and consensual sex between persons under 18 years old. If that bothers you, obviously don’t read it.

Because I write as I go, I may contradict something established earlier. It’s unlikely, but I’m human. If this happens just let me know and I’ll find a way to explain it or (if it’s really bad) plot device it. If I fuck up so badly that even the mightiest of plot devices can’t save me, then I’ll rewrite the story until it makes sense and post it again in a new thread. Again, that is very unlikely.

I really like feedback. If you want to see updates to this story, write a quick comment or suggestion or criticism. The sense of people caring about my stories is the only thing that motivates me to write.

Anyway, Enjoy!

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

4 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
Anonymous 15/02/07(Sat)09:23 No. 23247 ID: f69617

Inb4 they become a part of the bay area indie clique, one of them becomes an SJW and fucks zoe quinn and others for positive reviews, and the other is accused of rape and locked up for life before going on to found #gamergate from the shadows by hacking Adam Baldwin's twitter account.

Anonymous 15/02/27(Fri)20:37 No. 23326 ID: 2c5f80

What an arrogant guy (I presume) you are. Yes, you gave a critique, but then went on to, as one of the previous commenters said to bludgeon the author in a totally arrogant way - both in words and in tone

Author, please ignore him. As others have said, this shows promise and I for one am looking forward to the future installments

Anonymous 15/03/09(Mon)06:24 No. 23360 ID: 69dddc

.....am i reading smut about notch?neat.

The Galaxy's Hardest Seduction (futadom on fem,sci-fi,whatever I feel I-i-it&!eK93fqw5CM!!MyL2ZmMTR4 15/03/03(Tue)04:41 No. 23340 ID: 36207d [Reply]

Primary Tags: futadom, futa on female, sci-fi. Tags are subject to rampant change. Could get extreme later (beast, noncon, piss, asphyx), but no scat, ped, or hard guro.

This is my first attempt at elit (fingers crossed on the formatting). Constructive criticism is welcome. I'll tease you a bit in chapter one, drop the first sex scene in chapter two, and we'll ramp up the freakiness from there, possibly based on you guys' comments. No promises though. I reserve the right to ignore input I don't like.

Vengeance Diplomatic Station, low Earth orbit, 2088

I ducked into the men's bathroom and entered one of the "stalls," though it was really more of a suite than a stall. It was a fully enclosed room the size of a bedroom. It smelled of lavender for fuck's sake, but that's diplomatic stations for you. I wouldn't be surprised if they gilded the toilet paper. Pulling my succubus kit from my pocket, I thumbed a few buttons on its screen. Red text showed records of the hormone and pheromone levels of every being I'd gotten within five meters of throughout the evening. Changes in hormone levels that occurred after looking at or talking to me were highlighted in green. Basically, I could see who wanted to bang me. I scanned the highlighted rows, checking their species. Human, human, human... Damn. None of my targets were responding. Time to change my face and try again.

I tapped another button, and holograms of my preset bodies appeared around me. I allowed myself a grin. Every one of the bodies was a custom design by yours truly, and they were all goddamn masterpieces. Unfortunately, two of these masterpieces had already failed to get a response tonight, not including the body I was currently wearing. I batted away the voluptuous redhead and the androgynous athlete, who both vanished, leaving half a dozen options.

I picked Lail. I always picked Lail when the others fell short. Her hologram looked up at me through her lashes, running her tongue along her bottom lip. Her eyes were black. Deep. I'd spent ten weeks perfecting them, so that you could look down into them for miles and miles and find a secret meaning every step of the way. I reached out to hold her hand. I couldn't touch a hologram, of course, but she responded as though I had, and kept her hand in mine. Her fingers were fragile, with hollow bones. All her bones were like that, to keep her under thirty kilos - light enough to make a lover feel like a god of strength when they lifted her in their arms or pinned
her down one handed. Sure, her body was too lithe to carry the raw sexual appeal of the redhead or the blonde, but I made up the difference with skill. I liked to think of her like a faction in a game. In Starcraft VII: Arbiter of Deception, I'd mess around with the Zerg or the Protoss-Terran Remnant, but when things got competitiv Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

2 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
I-i-it&!47oUjPlt3Y!!t0L2AxZGp1 15/03/06(Fri)04:19 No. 23351 ID: 721e97

Posting chapter two within the hour, but first, thank you to the first commenter for the criticism and the second commenter for the warm fuzzies. On with the show.

Chapter Two I-i-it&!47oUjPlt3Y!!t0L2AxZGp1 15/03/06(Fri)04:36 No. 23352 ID: 721e97

New Tag of the day: Asphyxiation (nonlethal)

I materialized in a room with no doors – no way out. The wall was a circular screen, black at the moment. The ceiling and floor were aquariums, alive with creatures I could only describe as squid. Muted light filtered through the water above and below, casting the room in flickering blue. I glanced around for Avalon, and saw a throne in the center of the room, carved to look like a sea monster that had contorted itself into the shape of a chair. The four armrests were the four heads of the beast, and a sword’s hilt protruded from each of their gaping mouths. For a moment, I could have sworn I heard them growling, until I realized that was the distant rumble of the ship’s engine.

Before I could look away from the throne, Avalon materialized on it, her eyes on mine. The knot in my brainstem exploded, flooding my brain, rushing down my spine. My nipples stiffened against the fabric of my dress. I felt my sex puffing up, the lips flaring open, tingling, buzzing, itching to be rubbed. My legs trembled. Avalon leaned back, her wings sliding into slots on her throne.

“Strip,” she said.

My hands moved to obey, but I stopped myself, remembering my character. “I never agreed to sleep with you, you know,” I said.

“I neither need nor want your agreement,” she said. “Strip.”

I pulled down the zipper at the back of my dress. The electricity was going crazy, pulsing through my sex, rubbing me inside, better than a lover’s tongue, and it was all I could do not to moan. At this point, I wouldn't have looked away from Avalon’s golden eyes if she’d let me. My dress slid down my body and pooled around my feet, revealing my rounded breasts, my delicate waist, the gap between my thighs. Avalon’s eyes never left mine. Lail naked was a sight that others would kill to see – that others had killed to see, yet here I stood, ignored, and somehow being cast aside like that made me even hornier. I reached down to scratch the itch at the apex of my legs. Electricity froze my arm at the last second, my fingertips quivering a centimeter away from my clit. Avalon was smirking. My cheeks flushed with anger, or was it embarrassment? The electricity was blurring my mind. It was getting tough to remember how my character should react to things, and tougher still to keep myself from just climbing on Avalon’s lap and fucking my own brains out on her cock. I was pretty sure that would be out of character, but I absolutely needed something inside me right now.

“Let go,” I begged, “please.”
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Anonymous 15/03/06(Fri)12:37 No. 23355 ID: f5b1c2

Very nice, but a bit lacking in emotion. Also, quite a few stop-start sentences that could do with being separated by a comma instead of a period.
>My toes pointed, the electricity intensifying as she slid a second finger into my ass, then a third.
>My vision was going black, and I writhed for air one last time, hearing her moan in response to my struggles.
Stuff like that.

Fortis Apsallar 15/02/18(Wed)19:15 No. 23288 ID: 1a875d [Reply]

Fey Ozala was her name. She stood out as a rare flower, alone in a field of color. She was studying the falling snow her slender legs firmly planted on landing pad one. She must have been waiting for her appointment, letting the time pass like the people around her, paying them and all no mind. She was elsewhere, dreaming of a better place. Her hair drawn back, her child’s face in the cold air, a bronze pale statue. Pace found himself lost in that vision of a girl maybe 11 years old that had him mystified. Rooted in place, he could not take his eyes from her. He knew he had walked into this moment uninvited, intruding, such beauty not for him.

- “Move idiote!” A men pushing several crates shouted at Pace. “Go dally someplace else… Retardo!”

Aware of the people around him and that he had stared like an idiot at this beauty, Pace walked to the opposite wall of the landing pad and pretended to examine his communicator, while still stealing glances at the girl.

She finally moved, looked towards the entrance and with light steps glided inside. Like from a dream, Pace thought. He had trouble explaining all the feelings this girl had aroused in him. He looked at his watch and since it was time for him to go in as well he hurried after her. Inside she proceeded with assured steps while Pace went to the information desk to ask for directions. By the time he knew where to go, she was long gone. Pace sighted and followed the signs to recruitment room seventeen. That vision of perfection gone.

The medical tests were necessary but his predisposition for the melding had been revealed for over a year now. He hadn’t volunteered before because Pace knew he was scared. Oh he had thought of many other reasons not to join, but deep down it was always the fear which held him back. Now taught, with his parents gone, with the planet at the front lines, he had summoned his courage and failing to find it he had dragged himself here. If the planet was going to fall he would be part of the space forces and maybe just maybe they would evacuate the survivors. Pace knew there were too few ships for the planet’s population, they were too near the enemy for a full star-system evacuation. There was just no time and enough ships for everyone. Priority was given to the well connected and the ones that could afford it. He was neither of the two. The last hope now was with the military. Fighting Defender units were not sacrificed, they were pulled back to the next star system so they could fight again. So if he got in the space defense forces, in the Deffender units, there was a chance. Funny how he had not joined up to now because he was afraid of fighting, now he was joining because he was more afraid of staying behind as the Enemy approached.

Recruitment room seventeen turned out to be more of an psychological assessment Pace thought. He went from answering questions to going trough exerci Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

11 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
Bkil 15/02/28(Sat)00:00 No. 23327 ID: 55d287

I think this is a good setup for a story. I'm interested where you take it.

Anonymous 15/02/28(Sat)14:22 No. 23329 ID: 2c5f80

Agreed. I'm looking forward to the next update, although it would be good if Pace stepped up to the mark and didn't make such a complete Pratt of himself

Anonymous 15/02/28(Sat)14:22 No. 23330 ID: 2c5f80

Agreed. I'm looking forward to the next update, although it would be good if Pace stepped up to the mark and didn't make such a complete Pratt of himself

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.
Stonebrow!AN26.8FkH6 14/08/26(Tue)07:15 No. 22348 ID: 05ab80

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.
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.


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.

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.

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.
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.

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

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.

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Feedback1020 15/02/06(Fri)17:41 No. 23241 ID: f574a0

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

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


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
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Anonymous 15/02/08(Sun)01:44 No. 23251 ID: 07da93


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.

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

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.

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

Excellent as usual!

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

Superb, keep it coming sir

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