{"submission_id":"1973311","keywords":[{"keyword_id":"678","keyword_name":"anthro","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"84449"},{"keyword_id":"1448","keyword_name":"bestiality","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"3750"},{"keyword_id":"3","keyword_name":"dog","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"98362"},{"keyword_id":"1465","keyword_name":"heat","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"2656"},{"keyword_id":"967","keyword_name":"impregnation","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"6153"},{"keyword_id":"229","keyword_name":"knot","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"26918"},{"keyword_id":"1003","keyword_name":"m/f","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"26227"},{"keyword_id":"2837","keyword_name":"prostitution","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"1733"},{"keyword_id":"361","keyword_name":"tie","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"2669"},{"keyword_id":"5467","keyword_name":"underage","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"8203"},{"keyword_id":"1450","keyword_name":"zoophilia","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"1607"}],"hidden":"t","scraps":"f","favorite":"f","favorites_count":"4","create_datetime":"2019-09-14 06:09:49.725851+02","create_datetime_usertime":"14 Sep 2019 06:09 CEST","last_file_update_datetime":"2019-09-14 06:09:48.214956+02","last_file_update_datetime_usertime":"14 Sep 2019 06:09 CEST","username":"Thakur","user_id":"328108","user_icon_file_name":null,"user_icon_url_large":null,"user_icon_url_medium":null,"user_icon_url_small":null,"file_name":"2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/2846/2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/2846/2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/2846/2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","files":[{"file_id":"2846100","file_name":"2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/2846/2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/2846/2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/2846/2846100_Thakur_girl_scout_puppies.doc","mimetype":"application/msword","submission_id":"1973311","user_id":"328108","submission_file_order":"0","full_size_x":null,"full_size_y":null,"screen_size_x":null,"screen_size_y":null,"preview_size_x":null,"preview_size_y":null,"initial_file_md5":"97ce4316213e3995cb652d1e42efd813","full_file_md5":"97ce4316213e3995cb652d1e42efd813","large_file_md5":"","small_file_md5":"","thumbnail_md5":"","deleted":"f","create_datetime":"2019-09-14 06:09:48.214956+02","create_datetime_usertime":"14 Sep 2019 06:09 CEST"}],"pools":[],"description":"Jazz is an orphan on a mission - sell enough boxes of cookies to go to Disneyland! When she accidentally sees what her teacher is willing to do to make a sale, she has to rethink a lot of things.\n\nIn one week the full version will be posted, but if you want early access for this story and all my stories, please consider pledging your support at the $3 level on Patreon! Pledge your support at www.patreon.com/thakur\n\n[url=http://www.postybirb.com]Posted using PostyBirb[/url]","description_bbcode_parsed":"Jazz is an orphan on a mission - sell enough boxes of cookies to go to Disneyland! When she accidentally sees what her teacher is willing to do to make a sale, she has to rethink a lot of things.
In one week the full version will be posted, but if you want early access for this story and all my stories, please consider pledging your support at the $3 level on Patreon! Pledge your support at www.patreon.com/thakur
Posted using PostyBirb","writing":"``How am I going to sell fifty boxes of cookies in three weeks!?'' Jazz whined. The little pup was easily twenty-five years old, but, of course, she'd spent the first thirteen years of her life as a clump of cells in the lab, like all other furs. As a result, she looked like she was a twelve-year-old girl, almost exactly like the Human Scouts that were set up on the other side of the street, canvassing their cookies with a big, fancy table and cute little humans in pigtails.\n\n``Well, you won't with that attitude,'' Ms. Barkclay replied. The Rough Collie was from the first batch of furs to be released by Genutech, and her muzzle was gray from years of experience in the harsh world. She'd lived through the Civil Rights movement of 2035, when furs had won their emancipation from Genutech, and were granted the rights of full citizenship, but that didn't mean that human society had come to accept them yet. The vast majority of clients with money to spend on cookies crossed the street to buy from the Human Scouts...even some of the furs.\n\n``But everyone is going over to them,'' Jazz whimpered. She was never going to sell enough to go to Disneyland! What did those girls have over her? She looked just as cute in the green vest, skirt, and socks of the Pup Scouts, bows tied in her medium-length, golden-yellow hair. Indeed, if anything, the Yellow Labrador was cuter than the girls across the street, and no one could match her puppy-dog eyes.\n\n``Believe me, dear, we furs have had to overcome far worse than this. We'll just have to set up on another street. Want to help me start packing up, girls? She was speaking to the other two twelve-year-olds, a nervous-looking Chihuahua named Stacy wearing overalls beneath her green vest, and a pretty Doberman girl named Amber with a short haircut that made her striking but fearsome. Jazz had been afraid of Amber when she'd first joined this orphanage, but the girl was actually pretty nice.\n\nJazz sighed and started packing up their boxes of cookies and signs with the other two girls, but before they were halfway done, they actually got a visitor! The Yellow Lab looked up in surprise, but it wasn't a rich human who'd come over, but another fur. Still, if he had any money, it would go a long way. She perked her ears and approached the lanky Boxer, saying, ``Would you like a box of cookies!?''\n\nThe man's rich, brown fur gave way to white on his chest, his droopy lips framing his short, square muzzle. He was too young to be from the first generation like Ms. Barkclay, but appeared to be in his early twenties. He looked down at the three, cute little puppies and raised an eyebrow at their fifty-year-old teacher. ``I might be in the market,'' he smiled, kneeling down to Jazz's height.\n\n``Great!'' she chirped. ``Which one?'' One sale was a good start to chip away at the formidable fifty she needed to sell.\n\n``Let me smell them,'' he said, as she held out boxes of the five different flavors. Boxers must have great noses, because Jazz couldn't smell anything through the cardboard and plastic wrap, but this young man took a long, hard sniff of the Caramel Nutbutters. He kept sniffing until he reached the end of the table where Ms. Barkclay was standing, and grinned, ``Ooh, that last box smells heavenly,'' he said, meeting eyes with the Rough Collie.\n\nTheir caretaker widened her eyes, looking down at the smiling young man. Jazz wasn't sure why she stiffened up, but when her teacher looked over the three disheartened girls, she let out her breath and wagged her tail, saying, ``Well, it's for sale.''\n\n``How much?'' the dog said, standing up in front of Ms. Barkclay.\n\n``I'll tell you what,'' the collie said softly, ears perked. ``You buy two of each kind and I'll throw in the last box for free.''\n\nJazz could hardly believe what she was hearing. Ten boxes of cookies!? Sure, the eleventh would have to come from the woman's own pocket, but those sales would go far to get Jazz to Disneyland. She'd never heard of anyone buying that much at one time, but to her shock, the Boxer said, ``So cheap? It's a deal.''\n\nJazz dropped her jaw. Her teacher was a master negotiator. How had she known he'd have that much money to throw away? Or perhaps she could tell he liked Pup Scout Cookies? Ms. Barkclay said, ``Okay girls, keep packing up. I've got to go to this man's car to help set it up for the cookies. Don't you stray, now. The van should be open, and with the three of you should be able to pack up. Put the table in first, remember.''\n\n``Okay, Ms. Barkclay!'' the three girls replied at once, excitedly. Their sales would have been a wash, but now it looked like they were about to make a huge windfall! Jazz immediately went to work, packing up, a bounce in her step that hadn't been there a minute ago, while the Boxer and Rough Collie walked across the parking lot around the Greer building where the dog must have parked.\n\n``Oh, wow, ten boxes!'' Jazz exclaimed.\n\nAmber nodded. ``We just have to meet four more guys like him, and we'll raise the whole amount!''\n\nStacy was quivering with excitement. ``How rich is that guy?''\n\nJazz shook her head, the Yellow Labrador cocking her head. ``Why did he say `so cheap'? Buy ten get one free...?''\n\nThe three furs started diligently packing up, carrying the boxes and flyers and money box a hundred yards to where their van was parked. Amber stayed with the table, since they couldn't carry it and all the boxes, and they didn't want anyone to steal it. It was going to take three or four trips at this rate, but Jazz couldn't get her last question out of her head. Something weird was going on, and she needed to know what. After just one trip to the van, she told Stacy, ``Keep going - I've got to ask Ms. Barkclay a question.''\n\nThe Chihuahua protested. ``It's going to take me forever to carry the boxes alone.''\n\n``Shush, Stacy, I'll be right back.''\n\nThe Yellow Lab walked across the parking lot toward the Greer building. The old, brick department store had been repurposed as a gym before closing down entirely, the parking lot mostly empty. Why had the Boxer parked here? There was nothing on the side of this building. Jazz picked up her pace, wondering if Ms. Barkclay was in some kind of danger. She reached the corner of the building, passing an old dumpster - the kind with the diagonal top and two plastic doors. She could hear something around the corner, and she heard Barkclay's voice. Carefully, the young girl peeked around the corner.\n\nJazz's eyes widened at the unfamiliar scene. Ms. Barkclay was leaning back against the wall of the Greer building, but the Boxer was kneeling in front of her. The young male was half-obscured by the collie's ankle-length skirt as he pushed his muzzle up underneath it, his paws disappearing into the poofy green cloth to hold her legs. His stub-tail poked out of his jeans, wagging fast, while Barkclay had her eyes clenched shut and her head tilted back, her fingers clenching the cloth of her skirt tight as she hiked it further up.\n\nOnly then did Jazz see exactly what was going on, her jaw dropping. Barkclay's panties had been pulled down, revealing her plump, pink spade, and the man on the street was greedily lapping at it. The young girl watched as his forceful tongue spread her vulva apart again and again, plunging unabashedly into the whimpering collie's cunny. The woman groaned, ``Such an eager young man...''\n\nThe Boxer paused to gaze up at the older collie. ``I know a bitch in heat when I smell one.''\n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"``How am I going to sell fifty boxes of cookies in three weeks!?'' Jazz whined. The little pup was easily twenty-five years old, but, of course, she'd spent the first thirteen years of her life as a clump of cells in the lab, like all other furs. As a result, she looked like she was a twelve-year-old girl, almost exactly like the Human Scouts that were set up on the other side of the street, canvassing their cookies with a big, fancy table and cute little humans in pigtails.
``Well, you won't with that attitude,'' Ms. Barkclay replied. The Rough Collie was from the first batch of furs to be released by Genutech, and her muzzle was gray from years of experience in the harsh world. She'd lived through the Civil Rights movement of 2035, when furs had won their emancipation from Genutech, and were granted the rights of full citizenship, but that didn't mean that human society had come to accept them yet. The vast majority of clients with money to spend on cookies crossed the street to buy from the Human Scouts...even some of the furs.
``But everyone is going over to them,'' Jazz whimpered. She was never going to sell enough to go to Disneyland! What did those girls have over her? She looked just as cute in the green vest, skirt, and socks of the Pup Scouts, bows tied in her medium-length, golden-yellow hair. Indeed, if anything, the Yellow Labrador was cuter than the girls across the street, and no one could match her puppy-dog eyes.
``Believe me, dear, we furs have had to overcome far worse than this. We'll just have to set up on another street. Want to help me start packing up, girls? She was speaking to the other two twelve-year-olds, a nervous-looking Chihuahua named Stacy wearing overalls beneath her green vest, and a pretty Doberman girl named Amber with a short haircut that made her striking but fearsome. Jazz had been afraid of Amber when she'd first joined this orphanage, but the girl was actually pretty nice.
Jazz sighed and started packing up their boxes of cookies and signs with the other two girls, but before they were halfway done, they actually got a visitor! The Yellow Lab looked up in surprise, but it wasn't a rich human who'd come over, but another fur. Still, if he had any money, it would go a long way. She perked her ears and approached the lanky Boxer, saying, ``Would you like a box of cookies!?''
The man's rich, brown fur gave way to white on his chest, his droopy lips framing his short, square muzzle. He was too young to be from the first generation like Ms. Barkclay, but appeared to be in his early twenties. He looked down at the three, cute little puppies and raised an eyebrow at their fifty-year-old teacher. ``I might be in the market,'' he smiled, kneeling down to Jazz's height.
``Great!'' she chirped. ``Which one?'' One sale was a good start to chip away at the formidable fifty she needed to sell.
``Let me smell them,'' he said, as she held out boxes of the five different flavors. Boxers must have great noses, because Jazz couldn't smell anything through the cardboard and plastic wrap, but this young man took a long, hard sniff of the Caramel Nutbutters. He kept sniffing until he reached the end of the table where Ms. Barkclay was standing, and grinned, ``Ooh, that last box smells heavenly,'' he said, meeting eyes with the Rough Collie.
Their caretaker widened her eyes, looking down at the smiling young man. Jazz wasn't sure why she stiffened up, but when her teacher looked over the three disheartened girls, she let out her breath and wagged her tail, saying, ``Well, it's for sale.''
``How much?'' the dog said, standing up in front of Ms. Barkclay.
``I'll tell you what,'' the collie said softly, ears perked. ``You buy two of each kind and I'll throw in the last box for free.''
Jazz could hardly believe what she was hearing. Ten boxes of cookies!? Sure, the eleventh would have to come from the woman's own pocket, but those sales would go far to get Jazz to Disneyland. She'd never heard of anyone buying that much at one time, but to her shock, the Boxer said, ``So cheap? It's a deal.''
Jazz dropped her jaw. Her teacher was a master negotiator. How had she known he'd have that much money to throw away? Or perhaps she could tell he liked Pup Scout Cookies? Ms. Barkclay said, ``Okay girls, keep packing up. I've got to go to this man's car to help set it up for the cookies. Don't you stray, now. The van should be open, and with the three of you should be able to pack up. Put the table in first, remember.''
``Okay, Ms. Barkclay!'' the three girls replied at once, excitedly. Their sales would have been a wash, but now it looked like they were about to make a huge windfall! Jazz immediately went to work, packing up, a bounce in her step that hadn't been there a minute ago, while the Boxer and Rough Collie walked across the parking lot around the Greer building where the dog must have parked.
``Oh, wow, ten boxes!'' Jazz exclaimed.
Amber nodded. ``We just have to meet four more guys like him, and we'll raise the whole amount!''
Stacy was quivering with excitement. ``How rich is that guy?''
Jazz shook her head, the Yellow Labrador cocking her head. ``Why did he say `so cheap'? Buy ten get one free...?''
The three furs started diligently packing up, carrying the boxes and flyers and money box a hundred yards to where their van was parked. Amber stayed with the table, since they couldn't carry it and all the boxes, and they didn't want anyone to steal it. It was going to take three or four trips at this rate, but Jazz couldn't get her last question out of her head. Something weird was going on, and she needed to know what. After just one trip to the van, she told Stacy, ``Keep going - I've got to ask Ms. Barkclay a question.''
The Chihuahua protested. ``It's going to take me forever to carry the boxes alone.''
``Shush, Stacy, I'll be right back.''
The Yellow Lab walked across the parking lot toward the Greer building. The old, brick department store had been repurposed as a gym before closing down entirely, the parking lot mostly empty. Why had the Boxer parked here? There was nothing on the side of this building. Jazz picked up her pace, wondering if Ms. Barkclay was in some kind of danger. She reached the corner of the building, passing an old dumpster - the kind with the diagonal top and two plastic doors. She could hear something around the corner, and she heard Barkclay's voice. Carefully, the young girl peeked around the corner.
Jazz's eyes widened at the unfamiliar scene. Ms. Barkclay was leaning back against the wall of the Greer building, but the Boxer was kneeling in front of her. The young male was half-obscured by the collie's ankle-length skirt as he pushed his muzzle up underneath it, his paws disappearing into the poofy green cloth to hold her legs. His stub-tail poked out of his jeans, wagging fast, while Barkclay had her eyes clenched shut and her head tilted back, her fingers clenching the cloth of her skirt tight as she hiked it further up.
Only then did Jazz see exactly what was going on, her jaw dropping. Barkclay's panties had been pulled down, revealing her plump, pink spade, and the man on the street was greedily lapping at it. The young girl watched as his forceful tongue spread her vulva apart again and again, plunging unabashedly into the whimpering collie's cunny. The woman groaned, ``Such an eager young man...''
The Boxer paused to gaze up at the older collie. ``I know a bitch in heat when I smell one.''
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