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Free zoo and beastiality stories with forcus on human and animal fucking.


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Julie and the Beast

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October 23rd, Year of Our Lord 1653

The darkness leered at her and the forest closed around her; Julie clung to the horse's back, bending forward and clutching his thick mane with both hands. His hair was soaked with sweat; through the horse-blanket and her thin cotton undergarments, the strong weary planes of his muscles moved between her thighs. When Pierre, the faithful black stallion, had come home without saddle or rider, her alarm had been great. She had mounted him without hesitation, and whispered in his ear, "Take me to him, dear Pierre; show me what has become of Papa!"

The tired mount took her to within sight of the huge old castle, dark and vine-covered, deep in the most desolate part of the Forest Ducharne. He would go no further; when she tried to press him, his eyes showed their whites, and he whinnied most pitifully. The girl slipped off his back, and went through the gates alone.

"Papa, Papa!" Her calls echoed off the ancient walls, the great door askew on its hinges. She passed into the inner courtyard; had the night been brighter, or the girl less intent on her goal, she might have noticed the garden that spread about her, the carefully-tended shrubs in fantastic shapes, the beds of roses large and fire-red in the darkness. "Papa!" And then, an answer.

Into the castle through the arched stone doorway. Up stairs, along dark passages peopled by shadows and whispers. Her father's answering shout becoming clearer. "No, Julie! Do not seek me! Go home, girl, run away!" But she followed his voice, through air like thick syrup, rooms smelling of time and decay.

Catchpule Station: Incoming Transmissions

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Vanticar walked down the long hallways of Catchpule station. He grumbled to himself as he passed another window. Space glistened and the small blue planet below shone brightly amongst the stars. The Sun was on the other side of the station, which suited Vanticar just fine, his quarters were on this side of the station, and he had no desire to wake up with the sun in his eyes. It reminded him too much of the cat wars. It had been two years since a treaty between the Canutan Alliance and the Felanus Empire had ended the war. Vanticar had fought in those wars but as soon as it was over he had been released.

Vanticar was a pure-bred Wolf, war was in his blood. It coursed through his veins and pulled at the power of his rippling muscles. He had the scars to show it and Vanticar knew he could never escape their meaning; he was a warrior. Once the war was over he had traveled as a bounty hunter, but that wasn't as exciting as humans believed. Eventually he had settled down here, the security chief for the Catchpule station. It was a civilian run station, but on the outskirts of known space, there was rarely a dull moment.

Vanticor flipped to another page of a report. There was nothing of interest in it and he was glad that work was finally over. The pistol at his hip was getting heavy, as it did from long days spent sitting in a chair. Usually he got a chance to draw it every day, if nothing else but to empty a clip into a training dummy. It was just one of those days where you couldn't get off your tail, not even for a moment; which reminded him, his tail was killing him.

Rita and Max

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My name is Rita and I want to share something with you. It's something I discovered innocently enough a year or so ago but which, I must confess, I have nurtured with total disregard for any innocence.

My husband is a foreman at a steel mill and, at times when the work-load is heavy, he is required to work long hours. The mill sometimes operates seven days a week and when Russ comes home (sometimes late at night - sometimes early in the morning after a double) he is tired. Too tired to give me the attention I'd like to have once in a while.

I am twenty-seven years old and have been told often enough that I am "A gooood lookin' woman!" (as some of Russ's friends like to say). I had gained some extra weight when I was pregnant with our son, Russ Junior, and after he was born I had a devil of a time losing it. But that was seven years ago and I have managed to stay in shape pretty well just by watching what I eat and by the normal exercise I get while working around the house. Some days I make enough trips up and down the stairs to qualify for a marathon! I also have an exercise cycle that I sometimes ride in the living room in front of the TV.

Early last spring our neighbors across the street asked if I would take care of their dog, Max, while they were away on a three-week vacation. I couldn't very well turn them down. They knew I was at home all day and probably assumed I'd be over-joyed at the opportunity to show my good will. My mind told me that I really didn't want to accept the burden (a small burden, granted, but still a burden) but I didn't know how to refuse graciously.

Next Door's Dog

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I was feeling depressed I had just split up with my girlfriend and it was the height of summer, very hot and humid so I decided to lie outside to cheer myself up. I lay on the grass, hitched my skirt up to the top of my thighs and fell into a fitful, dreamy sleep. I dreamt about my girlfriend and I was dreaming about her lapping at my pussy - I half woke and could still feel her licking, my pussy was very wet. I suddenly woke and saw a terrible sight - next door's German Shepherd had his muzzle buried in my crotch! I jumped up and quickly pushed him away "Bad Dog' I shouted and pushed him again but he wasn't going anywhere, he just looked up at me and growled.

I began to get scared then - I had seen pictures of bestiality on the 'net and was interested in looking but not taking part I decided to go back into the house, but I couldn't believe how that dogs tongue had made me feel.

I went inside but he followed me still trying to stick his snout into my soaking wet snatch.

I kept pushing him away but he just kept growling then suddenly he leapt on top of me tearing my flimsy dress so my pert tits with erect nipples were exposed - he straddled me and began to roughly lick my tits - I couldn't believe what was happening, I tried in vain to push him off but he was just too strong - I glanced down and saw his cock swelling out of its sheath, it just grew and grew, I couldn't keep my eyes off it. It swelled to about 8" long and 2" wide with a large bulbous knot at the base, my mind was racing- I realised this dog was going to do whatever he wanted and I couldn't stop him.


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Meeting up with an old lover shakes loose lots of feelings. Awkwardness, nostalgia, sweet memories, heartbreak of parting - all of these and more I experienced when I saw Charlie again after three years. Three years ago Charlie and I had had an intense affair that lasted only a week. But in that week he taught me so much about love and sex that I will never forget. And I will never stop loving him.

Charlie is a beautiful border collie.

If you, my reader, were to see me in person today, you would not dream from my appearance - which I'm told is not unpleasant to look upon - that I carry Charlie with me and in me. At least I feel that I do. You would have no clue that I, not only willingly but eagerly, had put myself into that totally undignified and vulnerable position for a woman - on hands and knees - to welcome a dog into my body and into my life. Not once but again and again. And still do to this day (though not with Charlie, alas).

Charlie's intelligence shines in his eyes. He is more articulate with those eyes than most people are with words. His gorgeous male body is muscular and strong. I had the good fortune to meet Charlie soon after my "promiscuous period" with stray dogs that I've detailed elsewhere (see my posting "A Woman's View, Part III"). At this stage I was still in a sort of euphoric shock from my first experiences of being mated by dogs, still not sure if I could handle the idea of myself, an attractive woman in her late 20s, having real, all-the-way sex with male dogs - yet feeling very certain in my physical being that I was at last finding deep fulfillment as a woman by means of what many would label an abnormal coupling. Abnormal perhaps, but a coupling that my body and being seemed to crave after I had been mated a number of times. An addiction, perhaps. A big dog's driving passion, his overpowering and honest lust, his large equipment and hot, copious juices set me on fire, set every nerve a tingle, turned me into a steamy sexpot eager to present to him the wet, sweet fig of my womanhood.