Tag Archives: Femdom

The Life of a Human Ch.2: Greetings from an old friend

10 votes, average: 2.90 out of 510 votes, average: 2.90 out of 510 votes, average: 2.90 out of 510 votes, average: 2.90 out of 510 votes, average: 2.90 out of 5 (10 votes) (2.90)

This is pretty much a dead series. I have learned from my pretty bad writing and will continue to improve, but thanks for reading anyways. Look forward to much better hellhound stories in the future ;)! She was the same girl I was used to seeing, except matured.  Honoka was an average height for a werebat, about a foot shorter than myself. She had long jet black hair with bangs that stopped right above her eyes, and a small black blindfold covering them, due to Werebats sensitivity to light. Although you couldn’t see them, she had sparkling golden eyes that made  you light up just seeing her. Just like most Werebats, she had a petite but well toned body. She was my childhood friend for practically my whole life, until I pretty much lost contact with her when my mom had to move for a job opportunity.“Honoka?!” I questioned rhetorically, as I spun around and hugged her. She giggled while Alice glared at her. She wasn’t super good at reading facial expressions because of her blindfold, so it’s not like she could tell anyways. As the three of us conversed among each other,I noticed Honoka was talking about my mom letting her stay at our place, which my mom had failed to mention to me. Maybe she wanted to keep it a surprise?

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The Life of a Human Ch. 1

40 votes, average: 3.68 out of 540 votes, average: 3.68 out of 540 votes, average: 3.68 out of 540 votes, average: 3.68 out of 540 votes, average: 3.68 out of 5 (40 votes) (3.68)

I groaned as I was suddenly awoken by a bell of an alarm clock.

I blindly trash around – my face still submerged in my pillow, attempting to blind myself against the streaking beams of sunlight peeking through my window. After a good while, my body finally subdues to my mind and I sit upright. Today is my first day as a transferred student at my new school; Prodigium Academy. As enthusiastic and ecstatic as I am, I feel an overwhelming wave of sorrow and anxiety. In my old school, I was to put it bluntly; a delinquent.

I managed to get myself into fights every other day, even  resulting in people getting seriously injured. And seeing as I had no friends, the higher-ups decided it was a good choice to transfer me to a monster/human split school instead of the humanoid specific schools  I was used to. And as alarm clock to my side ticks, I can’t help but think of all the mischief I’ve caused, all the flaws I’ve adapted.

Despite my uncertainty about this new school and their  monster/human split policy, hopefully I can isolate myself and dwell  in the background, far away from any drama. The last thing i’d want is another dreadful experience, as I’ve got plenty of those already.

Mia decided she would pin me to the ground and straddle my hips.The loud cheering only encouraged her more, as she softly ran a single protruding claw on my cheek. I was trying my hardest to struggle to get free, but she was having none of it. I could feel her hot breath reach my neck as she hovered over me.  

She smiled as she softly lowered her chest closer to my face, hugging my face with her extended wrapped arms and breasts. Her skin was very warm to the touch, making me break into a light sweat.

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In Transylvanna Ch. 1

27 votes, average: 4.67 out of 527 votes, average: 4.67 out of 527 votes, average: 4.67 out of 527 votes, average: 4.67 out of 527 votes, average: 4.67 out of 5 (27 votes) (4.67)

In the smoking undead metropolis of Transylvanna, anything can happen. And as Owen, our protagonist, is about to find out, that’s scarcely a good thing. Meandering into the cutthroat world he thought he knew in search of breathing space, Owen soon finds himself, along with the local gang of indentured misfits that call themselves the local press, entangled in a plot most fowl.

Sylphie didn’t respond. Then, quietly, she asked, “Do you like it here, pet?”

Then, “What?”

“In Transylvanna.”

Owen was silent, staring downwards. Below them, next to Sylphie’s booted foot, was a thigh high stocking. It belonged to Sylphie. But it was in Owen’s room. And it was, for lack of a better adjective, crusty.

It had been the classiest wank Owen had ever had. He never came. He arrived.

“I’ve never seen outside.” Owen muttered, slowly trying to push it under the bed.

“My mother bought you young.” She said quietly. “From a slave trader. For me. You were to be my human playmate. It’s an, uhm, tradition. That’s where you came from. That’s why we met.”

Owen was quiet. Slowly, he said, “I didn’t know that.”

He couldn’t see Sylphie’s face in the dark. He could see her eyes, red and womanly. It made him feel strange, like he should be scared, but he wasn’t. He felt safe. For a moment, he wondered how red eyes floating in the darkness could be seen as a bad thing. The stocking was under the bed now, but it could be further under the bed. She could still notice it. She could smell it. How had she not smelled it?

“You were meant to be my personal slave. You did everything I said, because that’s how you were taught. More recently, you appear to have forgotten that.”

Something buried in the back of Owen’s mind began to resurface. Had he displeased her? This wasn’t good – “S-Sylphia, I’m really sorry if-“

“I’m glad you’ve forgotten.” She whispered. “It must be terrible, being a slave.”

“Yeah.” Owen responded, after a moment, still trying to push the stocking away. “It must be.”

“O-Owen?” She asked, her searching glare losing its focus, looking off somewhere into the darkness behind him as she released his hand. Owen heard his own name, but didn’t quite process it. No, that couldn’t have been Sylphia. Sylphia wouldn’t say-

“What?”

“Would you like to kiss me?”

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Spotter

41 votes, average: 4.71 out of 541 votes, average: 4.71 out of 541 votes, average: 4.71 out of 541 votes, average: 4.71 out of 541 votes, average: 4.71 out of 5 (41 votes) (4.71)

David is a gymcel who has devoted his life to forging the perfect body. He follows his training and diet more strictly than most people do their religion, even going so far as to abstain from relationships with monster girls, believing they’ll keep him from the iron paradise. One day, he forgets his Order ring which protects him from their advances and keeps him focused. A certain hellhound notices, and leaps on the opportunity to take advantage of him.

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