let's see if ya like :3",
"writing": "[center]thekzx\n\npresents\n\n'Yugoslavia'\n\nChapter 1\n\nWaiting[/center]\n\n\n He was going to be coming home any minute now. Every time I thought about it, my insides would twist. Was it sick anticipation? No, certainly not that.\n I knew today was a 'playdate' and I knew better than to not be ready for him on a playdate. We hadn't been doing this for too long; I had to keep reminding myself that he was my Master, and I dared not forget that. There were lots of things I wasn't allowed to forget.\n My name is Brenda McIntosh, 37. Married to Jason McIntosh, mother of Taylor and Isabelle McIntosh, twins and such a pawful. We were the first to conceive twins on both sides of the family, as far as I knew. Jason was very excited, I, of course, couldn't have been more thrilled. I always wanted to be a mother, to have children of my own, and now I was going to have two, a boy and a girl.\n I kept finding myself staring at the clock, counting every minute. Every second. Every single tick. My insides fluttered. Was it a good thing? Our playdates usually were the best, better than most sex I've ever had.\n I thought about the last time we played; it lasted so long and he'd put so many toys in me, I thought I would lose my mind. He tied me up and built up my orgasm, not allowing me to cum. Orgasm denial, they call it. I begged his permission to let me cum, just let me cum, please. He preferred hearing me almost cry, I think. I didn't dare ever ask for clarification, but that's when he'd usually stroke himself, that is whenever he didn't blindfold me. Oh, it gave me goosebumps just thinking about it.\n A few more ticks. A few more ticks closer to our playdate. Though I was leaned over the kitchen counter, arm up holding my chin, my legs still quivered thinking about what could possibly transpire later on. \n Maybe he'd be nice this time. Not that it mattered, I loved it all, but the difference between him being mean and being nice meant dealing with more whips or less whips. There was never a time without whips or slaps. Goddamn, it made me wet just thinking about it.\n I had the toys ready, though they were hidden, I made sure of that. There was a time last month when I accidentally left something out in the living room: a vibrator wrapped in a blindfold. It wasn't shaped like a dick or anything, it was just very phallic. Isabelle found it and something told me she sorta understood what it was and we had a good long laugh about it, even during the talk I gave her that I felt she was too old for. \n Of course both my kids knew about sex, but fetishes? Eh, I wasn't sure if she was old enough for that. That tended to be a world she'd have to discover for herself.\n \"Mom, we're home!\" Isabelle's voice echoed around the corner. My heart skipped a beat. The kids were home. Another tick. That meant the playdate was much closer now.\n \"I'm in the kitchen!\" I called out. Straightening out my shirt, I turned to find my two kids round the corner.\n \"Hey, Mom!\" Isabelle said, smiling at me and approaching, hugging me. I hugged her back, stroking her hair. Such soft hair. She stepped back and ran upstairs to her room. At 13, she was starting to look like a real little lady, her breasts developing a bit faster than I think mine did, but they seemed small. \n Last year some time, I talked to Isabelle about checking herself for lumps and such. Not that breast cancer ran on either side of her family, but I wanted my kids to always be informed. \n \"Hey, Taylor.\" I said, calling out to my son, who seemed distracted by something. He looked at me and smiled, waving.\n \"Hey, Mom.\" he said. At 13 as well, he was becoming quite handsome, just like his father. Oh, I could remember Jason when we were teenagers, and while I didn't really notice him until that stupid coffee incident, once I had him in the central focus of my anger, I started noticing how damned handsome he was.\n Taylor spun around, the slack straps of his backpack lagging behind. He wasn't even looking at me and kept looking in the living room. I froze for a sec: did I leave any evidence in the living room?!\n \"Taylor, aren't you gonna come hug me?\" I said, smiling. Taylor turned in my direction and stumbled slowly toward me.\n \"Yeah, I guess so.\" he mumbled.\n \"Come here.\" I said, open arms, trying to not tremble in the possibility of what he may have been looking at. He hugged me, his scent wafting through me. What a handsome man I'd raised. He was also just about my height. Both my kids, growing up so fast. He stepped away and looked through the fridge.\n \"Mom, I was gonna go over to Becky's, is that okay?\" Isabelle said, putting on her slightly tore-up red teenager shoes. I looked over at Taylor, he had some drink in his paw. Was he drinking straight from the bottle? I sighed. \"It's a class project we're doing.\"\n \"Yeah, sweetie, that's fine.\" I said.\n \"This is fine, Mom?\" Taylor said, drips on his lips. I chuckled.\n \"No, Taylor, I was talking to your sister. Please don't drink out of the bottle, dear.\" I said, paws on my hips. Taylor gave me a really dirty look. I looked at my kids. I always wanted to be a good mother. Was I a good mother? Was I a good pet?\n \"I'll be back tonight, okay?\" Isabelle said, glancing quickly in my direction, adjusting her glasses, pulling her backpack from the side and grabbing at the back door handle. Isabelle walked out, closing the door. Silence reigned. It was me and my son, standing in the kitchen. Finally, Taylor turned, looked at me, anger across his face, his fur ruffled, growling.\n \"Where the fuck is your collar?\"",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "
thekzx
presents
'Yugoslavia'
Chapter 1
Waiting
He was going to be coming home any minute now. Every time I thought about it, my insides would twist. Was it sick anticipation? No, certainly not that. I knew today was a 'playdate' and I knew better than to not be ready for him on a playdate. We hadn't been doing this for too long; I had to keep reminding myself that he was my Master, and I dared not forget that. There were lots of things I wasn't allowed to forget. My name is Brenda McIntosh, 37. Married to Jason McIntosh, mother of Taylor and Isabelle McIntosh, twins and such a pawful. We were the first to conceive twins on both sides of the family, as far as I knew. Jason was very excited, I, of course, couldn't have been more thrilled. I always wanted to be a mother, to have children of my own, and now I was going to have two, a boy and a girl. I kept finding myself staring at the clock, counting every minute. Every second. Every single tick. My insides fluttered. Was it a good thing? Our playdates usually were the best, better than most sex I've ever had. I thought about the last time we played; it lasted so long and he'd put so many toys in me, I thought I would lose my mind. He tied me up and built up my orgasm, not allowing me to cum. Orgasm denial, they call it. I begged his permission to let me cum, just let me cum, please. He preferred hearing me almost cry, I think. I didn't dare ever ask for clarification, but that's when he'd usually stroke himself, that is whenever he didn't blindfold me. Oh, it gave me goosebumps just thinking about it. A few more ticks. A few more ticks closer to our playdate. Though I was leaned over the kitchen counter, arm up holding my chin, my legs still quivered thinking about what could possibly transpire later on. Maybe he'd be nice this time. Not that it mattered, I loved it all, but the difference between him being mean and being nice meant dealing with more whips or less whips. There was never a time without whips or slaps. Goddamn, it made me wet just thinking about it. I had the toys ready, though they were hidden, I made sure of that. There was a time last month when I accidentally left something out in the living room: a vibrator wrapped in a blindfold. It wasn't shaped like a dick or anything, it was just very phallic. Isabelle found it and something told me she sorta understood what it was and we had a good long laugh about it, even during the talk I gave her that I felt she was too old for. Of course both my kids knew about sex, but fetishes? Eh, I wasn't sure if she was old enough for that. That tended to be a world she'd have to discover for herself. "Mom, we're home!" Isabelle's voice echoed around the corner. My heart skipped a beat. The kids were home. Another tick. That meant the playdate was much closer now. "I'm in the kitchen!" I called out. Straightening out my shirt, I turned to find my two kids round the corner. "Hey, Mom!" Isabelle said, smiling at me and approaching, hugging me. I hugged her back, stroking her hair. Such soft hair. She stepped back and ran upstairs to her room. At 13, she was starting to look like a real little lady, her breasts developing a bit faster than I think mine did, but they seemed small. Last year some time, I talked to Isabelle about checking herself for lumps and such. Not that breast cancer ran on either side of her family, but I wanted my kids to always be informed. "Hey, Taylor." I said, calling out to my son, who seemed distracted by something. He looked at me and smiled, waving. "Hey, Mom." he said. At 13 as well, he was becoming quite handsome, just like his father. Oh, I could remember Jason when we were teenagers, and while I didn't really notice him until that stupid coffee incident, once I had him in the central focus of my anger, I started noticing how damned handsome he was. Taylor spun around, the slack straps of his backpack lagging behind. He wasn't even looking at me and kept looking in the living room. I froze for a sec: did I leave any evidence in the living room?! "Taylor, aren't you gonna come hug me?" I said, smiling. Taylor turned in my direction and stumbled slowly toward me. "Yeah, I guess so." he mumbled. "Come here." I said, open arms, trying to not tremble in the possibility of what he may have been looking at. He hugged me, his scent wafting through me. What a handsome man I'd raised. He was also just about my height. Both my kids, growing up so fast. He stepped away and looked through the fridge. "Mom, I was gonna go over to Becky's, is that okay?" Isabelle said, putting on her slightly tore-up red teenager shoes. I looked over at Taylor, he had some drink in his paw. Was he drinking straight from the bottle? I sighed. "It's a class project we're doing." "Yeah, sweetie, that's fine." I said. "This is fine, Mom?" Taylor said, drips on his lips. I chuckled. "No, Taylor, I was talking to your sister. Please don't drink out of the bottle, dear." I said, paws on my hips. Taylor gave me a really dirty look. I looked at my kids. I always wanted to be a good mother. Was I a good mother? Was I a good pet? "I'll be back tonight, okay?" Isabelle said, glancing quickly in my direction, adjusting her glasses, pulling her backpack from the side and grabbing at the back door handle. Isabelle walked out, closing the door. Silence reigned. It was me and my son, standing in the kitchen. Finally, Taylor turned, looked at me, anger across his face, his fur ruffled, growling. "Where the fuck is your collar?"",
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