Eden
sat in the big soft chair in her living room, sipping a coffee. She’d
never gotten much use out of the chair in the past, but that had
changed ever since her “roommate” had moved in. Majesca, the
genie who had been thrust into her life (almost literally) was
cuddled up beside her, sipping at her own coffee between idle little
strokes on this sensitive spot or that. Eden smiled and shut her
eyes, enjoying the subtle teasing and stoking courtesy of her
friend/servant. It was sensual, bu

Miguel
marched through the street fair set up in the town's main street.
This wasn't usually his cup of tea. Mostly corny carnival-type rides,
assorted farmer's market stands selling deep fried or candy-coated
treats, and a few of the otherwise vacant stores temporarily
populated temporary attractions. Everyone else had wandered off to go
on the ferris wheel, but it was bad enough he'd agreed to come, he'd
be damned if he was just going to follow everyone else around.
Toward
the edge of the stre

He
pressed his hand against the cool glass of the jar. He couldn't see a
clock from where she'd set it when she left, but judging by the angle
of the sun as it cast its rays on the floor, it was late afternoon.
She'd be home soon.
He
stood up straight and buzzed his wings a little. He could usually
tell how his night was going to go pretty quickly. Heck, the sound of
the key in the door was usually good enough to let him know if it was
going to be rough. But it always helped to have a positive a

Fashion
Vore Vignettes
“Okay,
okay. Let’s get Lena in here,” a man said, before a room full of
executives for the nation’s top fashion company.
A
woman strutted out from a side room. She was stunning, but without a
doubt her most remarkable feature was her legs. Long, lithe, and
sporting an enticing pair of stockings. The legs were so attractive,
one almost didn’t notice that the stockings were the only things
she was wearing.
“She’s
the world’s premier leg model. But she’s don

“This
is all your fault, you know,” muttered a woman in a bizarre pink
leotard.
She
was called the Silk Stalker, and her first bout of crimefighting was
turning out to be less than triumphant. In her defense, she may have
been a little overambitious, as she’d set her sights upon the
premier mastermind in town, a fellow with an incomprehensible accent,
a German name she’d never bothered to learn to pronounce, and a
monocle.
A
clash with about forty henchmen, some loops of strong rope, and

Blue
sat down at his usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. Most of
the other tables had at least half a dozen people at them, munching
away at their food and chatting it up, Blue was empty. Making friends
didn’t come easily to him, since he was usually too shy to initiate
conversation, and in high school, most people didn’t make it a
point to break the ice on their own. It wasn’t so bad, though. It
gave him a chance to sit, think, and observe.
Today,
as usual, a table at the opposite

"I
should have known to ask if they had beds for all of us..."
Agatha muttered as she tried to navigate the crowded floor.
Her
sorority had invited her on one of their "cottage overnights."
They were supposed to be a lot of fun, and this one certainly was,
but now that everyone had had their fun, there was the issue of
sleeping arrangements. Eight girls, two beds. Rather than doubling up
or anything kinky like that, the two senior-most sisters got the beds
and everyone else w