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        <title>deviantART: Popular Short Stories</title>
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        <pubDate>Wed, 22 May 2013 21:07:54 PDT</pubDate>        
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                    <item>
                <title>Meeting Her End</title>
                <link>http://spratfa.deviantart.com/art/Meeting-Her-End-165116866</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://spratfa.deviantart.com/art/Meeting-Her-End-165116866</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 23 May 2010 23:18:42 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Meeting Her End</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">SpratFA</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/p/spratfa.gif</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://spratfa.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~SpratFA</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ A story. Let me know what you think. I might have more to say about it at some point, but it's late. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Their dinner had lasted hours now, and it was such a sweet evening.  She gazed at him across the table, feeling warm and full after eating all that he cooked for her.<br /><br />Her eyes wandered to the table between them and took in the wreckage of plates, the extent of her feast sinking in.  She couldn't believe how much she ate!  They had been dating for a short while, and he let it be obvious that he liked her figure and the appetite it reflected.  She was a soft girl with a plumpness that looked indulgent: she was a little short, and carried her weight in attractive curves.  She was self conscious of her lower half, where her most ample curviness  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ A story. Let me know what you think. I might have more to say about it at some point, but it's late. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>A Pocket Full of Sky</title>
                <link>http://iridiana.deviantart.com/art/A-Pocket-Full-of-Sky-190160201</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://iridiana.deviantart.com/art/A-Pocket-Full-of-Sky-190160201</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 19 Dec 2010 14:19:07 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">A Pocket Full of Sky</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">iridiana</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/i/r/iridiana.png?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://iridiana.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~iridiana</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ ... ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ When I was young, my father would take me to the highest tower of Notre Dame precisely once a year. It would be cold. Freezing. But we'd stand there, and take deep breaths of air, and peer down, towards the tiny ants of people below. Down, towards the sprawling city beneath us. It was always winter, when we'd go. Always cold. Freezing, freezing. But however cold it was, and however dull and bleary the weather, my father would ask one thing, and one thing only: that we adhered to tradition.<br /><br />"Lucie," he would say, with the fond smile and kind eyes I always remember. "Lucie, my peach. Whatever you become, and wherever your heart and mind leads  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ ... ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Dogs Of War</title>
                <link>http://kreepingspawn.deviantart.com/art/Dogs-Of-War-187257411</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://kreepingspawn.deviantart.com/art/Dogs-Of-War-187257411</guid>
                <pubDate>Tue, 23 Nov 2010 23:28:26 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Dogs Of War</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">KreepingSpawn</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/k/r/kreepingspawn.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://kreepingspawn.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 =KreepingSpawn</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ <span class="shadow-holder"><span class="mild shadow" ><a class="thumb" href="http://Nemesis-19.deviantart.com/art/Veterans-Serving-Veterans-107993854" title="Veterans Serving Veterans by ~Nemesis-19, Dec 31, 2008 in Designs & Interfaces > Advertising" super_img="http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs39/i/2008/366/1/0/Veterans_Serving_Veterans_by_Nemesis_19.jpg" super_w="1024" super_h="557"><i></i><img width="150" height="82" src="http://th04.deviantart.net/fs39/150/i/2008/366/1/0/Veterans_Serving_Veterans_by_Nemesis_19.jpg"></a></span><!-- ^TTT --><!-- TTT$ --></span><br /><br /><i>"For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion...</i> ~ Hamlet, Act II - Scene II by William Shakespeare<br /><br /><i>"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,<br />With Ate by his side come hot from hell,<br />Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice<br />Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,<br />That this foul deed shall smell above the earth<br />With carrion men, groaning for burial."</i> ~ Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene I by William Shakespeare<br /><br /><i>Some people don't know, don't know what is wrong<br />so they're knee-deep, knee-deep in sorrow...</i> ~ Knee Deep by CKY<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/><b>Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction based on my own extensive research on the current US conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Any resemblance to real persons or events is coincidental.</b><br /><br />the bit about the dead dog just came into my mind - flash of inspiration you might say... this piece grew from there. <br />this has sucked a lot of time away from my NaNoWriMo writing! <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/o/ohnoes.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":ohnoes:" title="Oh Noes!"/> but, i don't really mind. I enjoyed working on this, and I think it came out well, although i know i haven't quite hammered out all the kinks yet. especially going to be fine-tuning the formatting...<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://critique-it.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/c/r/critique-it.png?4" alt=":iconcritique-it:" title="Critique-It"/></a><a href="http://writers--club.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/w/r/writers--club.gif?3" alt=":iconwriters--club:" title="Writers--club"/></a><a href="http://authors-club.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/u/authors-club.png?5" alt=":iconauthors-club:" title="Authors-Club"/></a><a href="http://write-to-live.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/w/r/write-to-live.jpg?6" alt=":iconwrite-to-live:" title="write-to-live"/></a><a href="http://the-writers-review.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/t/h/the-writers-review.jpg?1" alt=":iconthe-writers-review:" title="The-Writers-Review"/></a><a href="http://constructive101.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/c/o/constructive101.png?2" alt=":iconconstructive101:" title="Constructive101"/></a><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/star_full.gif" width="17" height="16" alt=":star:" title="Star!"/><b>Feedback Questions:</b><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Does the repetition work? Is it distracting/boring?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Is the transition of Ryan's memories as he remembers more and more believable? Is it too slow/fast?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Is it clear that Ryan's moods and anxiety stem from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?<br />I deliberately did not mention this in the text and I don't want to add it in unless it is really unclear.<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>I wanted to leave it open-ended as to which combat zone my characters were in [Iraq/Afghanistan]. Is the piece effective, or would it have more impact if their location was clearly one or the other?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Are any scenes or dialogues unclear/confusing? Which ones and why? Suggestions to improve them?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Is the minimal character building for Dodger and Stevens effective?<br />Should I add similar segments for Michaels and Keller?<br /><br />more to come, as i think of them...<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/><b>Questions, constructive crit, and general comments are very helpful, as always!<br />Esp grateful to any OIF/OEF Vets who would be willing to share insight.[i.e. tell me just how full of BS i really am! <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/w/winkrazz.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=";p" title="Wink/Razz"/>]</b> <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/w/wave.gif" width="25" height="20" alt=":wave:" title="Hi!"/><br /><br /> <span class="shadow-holder"><span class="mild shadow" ><a class="thumb" href="http://ARIANA1985.deviantart.com/art/not-all-wounds-are-visible-187521184" title="not all wounds are visible.. by ~ARIANA1985, Nov 26, 2010 in Photography > People & Portraits > Expressive" super_img="http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/330/5/9/not_all_wounds_are_visible___by_ariana1985-d33n89s.jpg" super_w="900" super_h="602"><i></i><img width="150" height="100" src="http://th05.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2010/330/5/9/not_all_wounds_are_visible___by_ariana1985-d33n89s.jpg"></a></span><!-- ^TTT --><!-- TTT$ --></span><br /><br /><b>Links of Interest:</b><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Posttraumatic_stress_disorder">Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder</a><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://911review.org/Reports/iraq/Amputee_soldiers.html">Amputees Return to Active Duty</a><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.dvidshub.net/news/55056/1-1-marines-ramp-up-exercise-mountain-warrior-bridgeport">Real life Marine Staff Sergeant Brandon Miller</a> [paragraph 9] an instructor at the <a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/facility/mcmwtc.htm">Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center</a><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://issuu.com/wcfcourier/docs/honoringveterans-2010">Real life Marine Sergeant Brandon Lee Miller honored here</a> [mid page, 1st photo @ left]<br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.amazon.com/Lone-Survivor-Eyewitness-Account-Operation/dp/0316067598">Lone Survivor: An Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing</a> by Marcus Luttrell ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ The dog has been dead for so long the face is stretched taut across the skull in a permanent snarl.  I can count its ribs from ten meters out.  The eyes are gone.  But it picks its head up and looks at me.  A split second later the world goes red.<br /><br />Somewhere between the eyeballs and the brain the signal was intercepted.  Somewhere between the ears and the mind, the sounds got filtered out.  I only know what they tell me later.  <br /><br />A thing happened.<br /><br />	People died.  <br /><br />	I didn't.  <br /><br />	They tell me I'm a hero now.  I don't feel like any hero.<br /><br />	They  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ <span class="shadow-holder"><span class="mild shadow" ><a class="thumb" href="http://Nemesis-19.deviantart.com/art/Veterans-Serving-Veterans-107993854" title="Veterans Serving Veterans by ~Nemesis-19, Dec 31, 2008 in Designs & Interfaces > Advertising" super_img="http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs39/i/2008/366/1/0/Veterans_Serving_Veterans_by_Nemesis_19.jpg" super_w="1024" super_h="557"><i></i><img width="150" height="82" src="http://th04.deviantart.net/fs39/150/i/2008/366/1/0/Veterans_Serving_Veterans_by_Nemesis_19.jpg"></a></span><!-- ^TTT --><!-- TTT$ --></span><br /><br /><i>"For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion...</i> ~ Hamlet, Act II - Scene II by William Shakespeare<br /><br /><i>"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,<br />With Ate by his side come hot from hell,<br />Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice<br />Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,<br />That this foul deed shall smell above the earth<br />With carrion men, groaning for burial."</i> ~ Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene I by William Shakespeare<br /><br /><i>Some people don't know, don't know what is wrong<br />so they're knee-deep, knee-deep in sorrow...</i> ~ Knee Deep by CKY<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/><b>Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction based on my own extensive research on the current US conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Any resemblance to real persons or events is coincidental.</b><br /><br />the bit about the dead dog just came into my mind - flash of inspiration you might say... this piece grew from there. <br />this has sucked a lot of time away from my NaNoWriMo writing! <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/o/ohnoes.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":ohnoes:" title="Oh Noes!"/> but, i don't really mind. I enjoyed working on this, and I think it came out well, although i know i haven't quite hammered out all the kinks yet. especially going to be fine-tuning the formatting...<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://critique-it.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/c/r/critique-it.png?4" alt=":iconcritique-it:" title="Critique-It"/></a><a href="http://writers--club.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/w/r/writers--club.gif?3" alt=":iconwriters--club:" title="Writers--club"/></a><a href="http://authors-club.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/u/authors-club.png?5" alt=":iconauthors-club:" title="Authors-Club"/></a><a href="http://write-to-live.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/w/r/write-to-live.jpg?6" alt=":iconwrite-to-live:" title="write-to-live"/></a><a href="http://the-writers-review.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/t/h/the-writers-review.jpg?1" alt=":iconthe-writers-review:" title="The-Writers-Review"/></a><a href="http://constructive101.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/c/o/constructive101.png?2" alt=":iconconstructive101:" title="Constructive101"/></a><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/star_full.gif" width="17" height="16" alt=":star:" title="Star!"/><b>Feedback Questions:</b><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Does the repetition work? Is it distracting/boring?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Is the transition of Ryan's memories as he remembers more and more believable? Is it too slow/fast?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Is it clear that Ryan's moods and anxiety stem from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?<br />I deliberately did not mention this in the text and I don't want to add it in unless it is really unclear.<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>I wanted to leave it open-ended as to which combat zone my characters were in [Iraq/Afghanistan]. Is the piece effective, or would it have more impact if their location was clearly one or the other?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Are any scenes or dialogues unclear/confusing? Which ones and why? Suggestions to improve them?<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/>Is the minimal character building for Dodger and Stevens effective?<br />Should I add similar segments for Michaels and Keller?<br /><br />more to come, as i think of them...<br /><br /><img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/bulletred.gif" width="10" height="10" alt=":bulletred:" title="Bullet; Red"/><b>Questions, constructive crit, and general comments are very helpful, as always!<br />Esp grateful to any OIF/OEF Vets who would be willing to share insight.[i.e. tell me just how full of BS i really am! <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/w/winkrazz.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=";p" title="Wink/Razz"/>]</b> <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/w/wave.gif" width="25" height="20" alt=":wave:" title="Hi!"/><br /><br /> <span class="shadow-holder"><span class="mild shadow" ><a class="thumb" href="http://ARIANA1985.deviantart.com/art/not-all-wounds-are-visible-187521184" title="not all wounds are visible.. by ~ARIANA1985, Nov 26, 2010 in Photography > People & Portraits > Expressive" super_img="http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/330/5/9/not_all_wounds_are_visible___by_ariana1985-d33n89s.jpg" super_w="900" super_h="602"><i></i><img width="150" height="100" src="http://th05.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2010/330/5/9/not_all_wounds_are_visible___by_ariana1985-d33n89s.jpg"></a></span><!-- ^TTT --><!-- TTT$ --></span><br /><br /><b>Links of Interest:</b><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Posttraumatic_stress_disorder">Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder</a><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://911review.org/Reports/iraq/Amputee_soldiers.html">Amputees Return to Active Duty</a><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.dvidshub.net/news/55056/1-1-marines-ramp-up-exercise-mountain-warrior-bridgeport">Real life Marine Staff Sergeant Brandon Miller</a> [paragraph 9] an instructor at the <a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/facility/mcmwtc.htm">Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center</a><br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://issuu.com/wcfcourier/docs/honoringveterans-2010">Real life Marine Sergeant Brandon Lee Miller honored here</a> [mid page, 1st photo @ left]<br /><a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.amazon.com/Lone-Survivor-Eyewitness-Account-Operation/dp/0316067598">Lone Survivor: An Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing</a> by Marcus Luttrell ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Food Fight</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Food-Fight-192871356</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Food-Fight-192871356</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 09 Jan 2011 18:52:34 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Food Fight</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Yaaaay! I'm so glad to finally have 100 llamas because now I can feel justified in FINALLY posting this! Now, here's the big secret: A while back, I collaborated with <a href="http://spratfa.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/p/spratfa.gif" alt=":iconspratfa:" title="SpratFA"/></a>, I wrote a story, he illustrated it. Not sure how to stick the illustrations into the story, so I'll just post them as well afterwards. <br /><br />Oh, if you aren't already watching <a href="http://spratfa.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/p/spratfa.gif" alt=":iconspratfa:" title="SpratFA"/></a>, why not? You're only missing out on one of the best artists in this community...actually, you could just say he's a great artist period, but I don't want to embarrass him with too much effusive praise XD <br /><br />This contains bursting, so stop reading before the end if you don't like that. You have been warned! ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Vanessa always got what she wanted.  And she wanted everything.  Her wealthy parents had spoiled her as a child, always buying her anything she wanted, so as she grew up it was no surprise that she always remained a spoiled, greedy brat.<br /><br />	Even today, she was completely self-centered.<br /><br />	Vanessa was a shapely blonde babe, with long hair falling to her supple shoulders. She was slightly plump from over-indulgence, but most of her weight naturally went to the right places giving her a voluptuous hourglass figure.  Her hefty breasts filled out her blouse and her pert, rounded bum put a mild strain on the seat of her hip-hugger jeans. She'd tied h ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Yaaaay! I'm so glad to finally have 100 llamas because now I can feel justified in FINALLY posting this! Now, here's the big secret: A while back, I collaborated with <a href="http://spratfa.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/p/spratfa.gif" alt=":iconspratfa:" title="SpratFA"/></a>, I wrote a story, he illustrated it. Not sure how to stick the illustrations into the story, so I'll just post them as well afterwards. <br /><br />Oh, if you aren't already watching <a href="http://spratfa.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/p/spratfa.gif" alt=":iconspratfa:" title="SpratFA"/></a>, why not? You're only missing out on one of the best artists in this community...actually, you could just say he's a great artist period, but I don't want to embarrass him with too much effusive praise XD <br /><br />This contains bursting, so stop reading before the end if you don't like that. You have been warned! ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Aftermath</title>
                <link>http://prettythings9.deviantart.com/art/Aftermath-210291975</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://prettythings9.deviantart.com/art/Aftermath-210291975</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 25 May 2011 12:50:13 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Aftermath</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">PrettyThings9</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/p/r/prettythings9.gif?2</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://prettythings9.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~PrettyThings9</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ <sub>taboo<br />1 : forbidden to profane use or contact because of what are held to be dangerous supernatural powers<br />2 a : banned on grounds of morality or taste <br /> b : banned as constituting a risk <br /><br />deviant<br />1 : deviating especially from an accepted norm<br /><br /><a href="http://lacoterie.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/l/a/lacoterie.jpg?2" alt=":iconlacoterie:" title="lacoterie"/></a> <a href="http://lacoterie.deviantart.com/blog/">[link]</a><br /><br />my entry at 3,997 words. stick with it, i know it's a lot of words.<br /><br />well, i think that the question i'm trying to ask here is; which taboo is worse? the socially acceptable one of famial abuse, and the supression of desire? or the taboo of incest and rape? do you think to loss of innocence and the subversion is more terrible than the actual rape? what about Amélie and François (out of curiousity, how old do you think they are?)? do you hate him for his actions, do you hate her for her weakness, and do you think ultimately it was the parents that caused this inevitability [in the words of Philip Larkin; <i>They fuck you up, your mum and dad</i>] and the ending? does it work? i guess the question i'm trying to ask is; do the shattering events of the present destroy or cheapen the happy events of the past?<br /><br /> please, i'd love to know. <br /><br />this was incredibly difficult to write and i still bare my teeth on reading certain passages. so bearing that in mind, please, please comment. if you comment on nothing else of my work, i don't mind. i spent days and days and strange hours on this. comments in general would just be really nice. <br /><br />{end epic artist comment}</sub> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[            The light shatters and splinters in the water; sunlight streaming through torn curtains into diamond-studded liquid the consistency and warmth of blood. Coloured by blood. Streaks of red issue from the most hidden, most secret part of her. She is dimly aware of the ache, but it is nothing compared to the ache in the seat of her emotions; she cannot name it. For once the words have all run dry.<br /><br />          His arms enclose her, kneeling beside the bath he drags the cloth across her vulnerable shoulders tenderly, watching the ribbo ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ <sub>taboo<br />1 : forbidden to profane use or contact because of what are held to be dangerous supernatural powers<br />2 a : banned on grounds of morality or taste <br /> b : banned as constituting a risk <br /><br />deviant<br />1 : deviating especially from an accepted norm<br /><br /><a href="http://lacoterie.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/l/a/lacoterie.jpg?2" alt=":iconlacoterie:" title="lacoterie"/></a> <a href="http://lacoterie.deviantart.com/blog/">[link]</a><br /><br />my entry at 3,997 words. stick with it, i know it's a lot of words.<br /><br />well, i think that the question i'm trying to ask here is; which taboo is worse? the socially acceptable one of famial abuse, and the supression of desire? or the taboo of incest and rape? do you think to loss of innocence and the subversion is more terrible than the actual rape? what about Amélie and François (out of curiousity, how old do you think they are?)? do you hate him for his actions, do you hate her for her weakness, and do you think ultimately it was the parents that caused this inevitability [in the words of Philip Larkin; <i>They fuck you up, your mum and dad</i>] and the ending? does it work? i guess the question i'm trying to ask is; do the shattering events of the present destroy or cheapen the happy events of the past?<br /><br /> please, i'd love to know. <br /><br />this was incredibly difficult to write and i still bare my teeth on reading certain passages. so bearing that in mind, please, please comment. if you comment on nothing else of my work, i don't mind. i spent days and days and strange hours on this. comments in general would just be really nice. <br /><br />{end epic artist comment}</sub> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>The Silo Complex</title>
                <link>http://laura-lie.deviantart.com/art/The-Silo-Complex-190067810</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://laura-lie.deviantart.com/art/The-Silo-Complex-190067810</guid>
                <pubDate>Sat, 18 Dec 2010 19:57:18 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">The Silo Complex</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Laura-Lie</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/l/a/laura-lie.jpg?9</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://laura-lie.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 *Laura-Lie</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ this is based on the dream i had last night, except i was the one seeing men and women made of black smoke, and they were more of trying to cross into the past instead of take glimpses.<br />i woke up after it was done and just sat in bed with my eyes open for 2 hours because it was so freaky<br />but i knew i had to write about it, some of my best work comes from dreams.<br /><br />REVISTITED 7/12/12: I've always liked <i>The Silo Complex</i>, and I'm always interested in hearing what others have to say about it.<br /><br />7/27/12: A DD? HOLY SHIT. Here's a big thank you to *<a class="u" href="http://monstroooo.deviantart.com">monstroooo</a>!<br /><br />--&gt; ALSO: There's a very high chance that there won't be more of this story, but I can't say it's an absolute no at the same time. I ended this right where my dream did, and I'm content with leaving it at that.<br /><br />mentioned here at #<a class="u" href="http://writersink.deviantart.com">WritersInk</a>: <a href="http://writersink.deviantart.com/journal/Weekly-Round-up-317877259">[link]</a><br /><br />featured at: <a href="http://litlovecommunity.deviantart.com/journal/Communal-Karma-1-347786262">[link]</a> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ "You won't believe what I just saw in the field."<br /><br />I sighed at Eloise in the doorway.  "Another dead raccoon?  How big was it this time?  You know it's just maggots, right?"<br /><br />"No, that wasn't it.  I saw a man."<br /><br />"Was it John?"<br /><br />"No."<br /><br />"Fox?"<br /><br />"It was a man, but it wasn't really a man.  Almost a man."<br /><br />"Almost a man?"  She had recently taken to wandering in the fields under gray skies, thinking that she'd find her answers among the abandoned farm equipment and rows of dried corn husks.  She never did.  Just raccoons.  I never heard anything about men who  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ this is based on the dream i had last night, except i was the one seeing men and women made of black smoke, and they were more of trying to cross into the past instead of take glimpses.<br />i woke up after it was done and just sat in bed with my eyes open for 2 hours because it was so freaky<br />but i knew i had to write about it, some of my best work comes from dreams.<br /><br />REVISTITED 7/12/12: I've always liked <i>The Silo Complex</i>, and I'm always interested in hearing what others have to say about it.<br /><br />7/27/12: A DD? HOLY SHIT. Here's a big thank you to *<a class="u" href="http://monstroooo.deviantart.com">monstroooo</a>!<br /><br />--&gt; ALSO: There's a very high chance that there won't be more of this story, but I can't say it's an absolute no at the same time. I ended this right where my dream did, and I'm content with leaving it at that.<br /><br />mentioned here at #<a class="u" href="http://writersink.deviantart.com">WritersInk</a>: <a href="http://writersink.deviantart.com/journal/Weekly-Round-up-317877259">[link]</a><br /><br />featured at: <a href="http://litlovecommunity.deviantart.com/journal/Communal-Karma-1-347786262">[link]</a> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Thief!Denmark x Police!Reader - Unexpected Truth</title>
                <link>http://maxride97.deviantart.com/art/Thief-Denmark-x-Police-Reader-Unexpected-Truth-323135876</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://maxride97.deviantart.com/art/Thief-Denmark-x-Police-Reader-Unexpected-Truth-323135876</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 24 Aug 2012 12:40:40 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Thief!Denmark x Police!Reader - Unexpected Truth</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">maxride97</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/a/maxride97.gif?4</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://maxride97.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 *maxride97</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Ok first off, you dont wanna tell you how many times I spelled 'thief' wrong in this story xD (Thank GOTT for spell-check <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/biggrin.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":D" title=":D (Big Grin)"/>)<br /><br />I'm not really a huge fan of Denmark but he fitted in so well with the ideas I HAD to use him! <a target="_self" href="http://denmarkplz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/d/e/denmarkplz.gif?4" alt=":icondenmarkplz:" title="Denmarkplz" /></a> (plus I love his drinking habits as much as Luddy's~<img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/m/meow.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":meow:" title="Meow :3"/>)<br /><br /><b>I do not own Hetalia or the picture</b><br /><br /><b>You</b> (<strike>and your handcuffs~</strike>) <b>belong to Denny however~</b><a target="_self" href="http://sexydenmark2plz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/e/sexydenmark2plz.png?1" alt=":iconsexydenmark2plz:" title="SexyDenmark2plz" /></a><br /><br />(Speaking of Denny's I wanna go to that place sometime, I think it's as good as IHOP so im a bit curious~<a target="_self" href="http://ilickitplz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/i/l/ilickitplz.png?1" alt=":iconilickitplz:" title="IlickItplz" /></a>) ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Mathias Køhler. Supposedly in his twenties and known for his work as a thief. He is marked as a wanted man and my first target as a new policeman. I had joined the force a while back and had just finished my training. I was then moved to as a new recruit and had come face-to-face with my first job. Scanning the thief's profile one more time with a quick glare, I turned it back over to my boss.<br /><br />"So why me, sir?" I asked a bit bluntly as I twiddled my fingers nervously behind my back. Hey, it was my first time doing this, I should be nervous.<br /><br />"Well seeing on how you're one of our new recruits, I had given you this mission since it would  ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th07.deviantart.net/fs70/300W/i/2012/237/7/f/thief_denmark_x_police_reader___unexpected_truth_by_maxride97-d5cdx8k.jpg" height="267" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/237/7/f/thief_denmark_x_police_reader___unexpected_truth_by_maxride97-d5cdx8k.jpg" height="133" width="150"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Ok first off, you dont wanna tell you how many times I spelled 'thief' wrong in this story xD (Thank GOTT for spell-check <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/biggrin.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":D" title=":D (Big Grin)"/>)<br /><br />I'm not really a huge fan of Denmark but he fitted in so well with the ideas I HAD to use him! <a target="_self" href="http://denmarkplz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/d/e/denmarkplz.gif?4" alt=":icondenmarkplz:" title="Denmarkplz" /></a> (plus I love his drinking habits as much as Luddy's~<img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/m/meow.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":meow:" title="Meow :3"/>)<br /><br /><b>I do not own Hetalia or the picture</b><br /><br /><b>You</b> (<strike>and your handcuffs~</strike>) <b>belong to Denny however~</b><a target="_self" href="http://sexydenmark2plz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/e/sexydenmark2plz.png?1" alt=":iconsexydenmark2plz:" title="SexyDenmark2plz" /></a><br /><br />(Speaking of Denny's I wanna go to that place sometime, I think it's as good as IHOP so im a bit curious~<a target="_self" href="http://ilickitplz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/i/l/ilickitplz.png?1" alt=":iconilickitplz:" title="IlickItplz" /></a>)<br /><div><img src="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/237/7/f/thief_denmark_x_police_reader___unexpected_truth_by_maxride97-d5cdx8k.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Mono.</title>
                <link>http://laura-lie.deviantart.com/art/Mono-301023473</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://laura-lie.deviantart.com/art/Mono-301023473</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 09 May 2012 09:33:16 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Mono.</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Laura-Lie</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/l/a/laura-lie.jpg?9</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://laura-lie.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 *Laura-Lie</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ I haven't been this happy with a finished product in a very long time. Feel free to rip this into pieces and tell me what you like and don't like. I want to make it better if I can.<br /><br />Origin: This weekend I was derping around the mall and paying for an Otep shirt when I noticed the store was giving away free band stickers. And if it's free, it's for me. One was of the new Cattle Decapitation album cover, <i>Monolith of Inhumanity</i>. I looked at it, and wondered, how would we get to this situation? How could a monolith end the world? Thus, <i>Mono.</i> was born. No, this didn't end with the town ripping off their flesh as they turned into gorillas, but I still gave it a Layla-twist at the end.<br /><br />I also printed this one off and showed it to my mom. About halfway through I got a weird look out of her, though in my defense, I haven't called <b>it</b> a <i>peanut</i> or <i>weiner</i> for a long time.<br /><br />Enjoy. All feedback appreciated greatly.<br /><br />EDIT 20/05/12: My second DLD! I'm over the moon happy! featured here --&gt; <a href="http://dailylitdeviations.deviantart.com/journal/Daily-Literature-Deviations-for-May-20th-2012-303229495">[link]</a><br /><br />Also mentioned here: <a href="http://writersink.deviantart.com/journal/Weekly-Round-up-303482343">[link]</a><br /><br />featured again: <a href="http://kneeling-glory.deviantart.com/journal/Features-DLD-s-Summer-Contest-Winners-327576616">[link]</a><br /><br />EDIT 2/7/2013: WHAT? I MEAN.....WHAT? A DD? IS THIS RIGHT? AM I OKAY? Wow....I am actually speechless! Here's the first of thank-yous to `<a class="u" href="http://kneeling-glory.deviantart.com">Kneeling-Glory</a> and ^<a class="u" href="http://nicswaner.deviantart.com">NicSwaner</a> who are both very awesome people, and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this as well! Now, time to pour myself a cup of coffee and be shocked some more <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/e/eek.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":o" title=":o (Eek)"/><br /><br />mentioned here: <a href="http://writersink.deviantart.com/journal/Weekly-Round-up-353689243">[link]</a><br /><br />---<br /><br /><i><sub>and it seems to me this apathy<br />kills the life and honesty<br />it will deepen industry</sub></i> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ One morning a black pillar appeared in the center of town, within the boundaries of the park and right outside of the library.  It stood at least thirteen feet tall and was as wide as a mature oak.  They deduced it was made out of some kind of polished stone.  Some guessed it was obsidian; others argued it was too strong to be such a fragile stone.  It could have been granite, but when was the last time you saw black granite in that quantity, and in that shape?<br /><br />"We should knock it down and drag it away!" someone shouted.<br /><br />But they were too afraid to touch it.<br /><br />"Why not just leave it here?" another sugg ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ I haven't been this happy with a finished product in a very long time. Feel free to rip this into pieces and tell me what you like and don't like. I want to make it better if I can.<br /><br />Origin: This weekend I was derping around the mall and paying for an Otep shirt when I noticed the store was giving away free band stickers. And if it's free, it's for me. One was of the new Cattle Decapitation album cover, <i>Monolith of Inhumanity</i>. I looked at it, and wondered, how would we get to this situation? How could a monolith end the world? Thus, <i>Mono.</i> was born. No, this didn't end with the town ripping off their flesh as they turned into gorillas, but I still gave it a Layla-twist at the end.<br /><br />I also printed this one off and showed it to my mom. About halfway through I got a weird look out of her, though in my defense, I haven't called <b>it</b> a <i>peanut</i> or <i>weiner</i> for a long time.<br /><br />Enjoy. All feedback appreciated greatly.<br /><br />EDIT 20/05/12: My second DLD! I'm over the moon happy! featured here --&gt; <a href="http://dailylitdeviations.deviantart.com/journal/Daily-Literature-Deviations-for-May-20th-2012-303229495">[link]</a><br /><br />Also mentioned here: <a href="http://writersink.deviantart.com/journal/Weekly-Round-up-303482343">[link]</a><br /><br />featured again: <a href="http://kneeling-glory.deviantart.com/journal/Features-DLD-s-Summer-Contest-Winners-327576616">[link]</a><br /><br />EDIT 2/7/2013: WHAT? I MEAN.....WHAT? A DD? IS THIS RIGHT? AM I OKAY? Wow....I am actually speechless! Here's the first of thank-yous to `<a class="u" href="http://kneeling-glory.deviantart.com">Kneeling-Glory</a> and ^<a class="u" href="http://nicswaner.deviantart.com">NicSwaner</a> who are both very awesome people, and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this as well! Now, time to pour myself a cup of coffee and be shocked some more <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/e/eek.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":o" title=":o (Eek)"/><br /><br />mentioned here: <a href="http://writersink.deviantart.com/journal/Weekly-Round-up-353689243">[link]</a><br /><br />---<br /><br /><i><sub>and it seems to me this apathy<br />kills the life and honesty<br />it will deepen industry</sub></i> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>First</title>
                <link>http://wdeleon.deviantart.com/art/First-273568013</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://wdeleon.deviantart.com/art/First-273568013</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 11 Dec 2011 22:19:28 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">First</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">wdeleon</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/w/d/wdeleon.png?2</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://wdeleon.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~wdeleon</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Several years after the events of the TV series, Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash have a discussion about painful events in the past, what the future holds, and self-realization and the nature of destiny.<br /><br />Also, I guess I should point out that an illustration of the pegasus original character Alabaster from this story is here: <a href="http://fav.me/d4ivd4n">[link]</a><br /><br /><br />EDIT 12 Dec. 2011: Added a preview image, like a boss. So long, boring scrolling wall of text!<br /><br />EDIT AGAIN 13 Dec. 2011: Based on feedback received, the story has undergone some revision. It's nothing too hugely story-changing, but it fixes (or attempts to, at least) a couple of issues that have been recurrently pointed out to me. Thanks for providing feedback, everyone who has! It's welcomed and appreciated. I'm ready to let the story as it is now stand as the final version, but further comments and feedback are still very appreciated, they're a large part of the basis for improving my skills for future projects. Thanks again! ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ "Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless in facing them.<br />Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it."<br /><br /> - Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br /> "Oh no. No way. That's something I don't get mixed up in." Twilight Sparkle informed Rainbow Dash matter-of-factly, shaking her head. Her horn glowed faintly as she levitated a book out of the shelf she was searching, and floated it in midair in front of her while she trotted across the library floor, past Rainbow Dash, who was standing in the middle of the room, over to a reading stand and set the book down.<br /><br /> "Huh? Why not?" Rainbow Dash asked, turning in p ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/346/7/e/first_by_wdeleon-d4ivifh.jpg" height="113" width="150"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/346/7/e/first_by_wdeleon-d4ivifh.jpg" height="113" width="150"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Several years after the events of the TV series, Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash have a discussion about painful events in the past, what the future holds, and self-realization and the nature of destiny.<br /><br />Also, I guess I should point out that an illustration of the pegasus original character Alabaster from this story is here: <a href="http://fav.me/d4ivd4n">[link]</a><br /><br /><br />EDIT 12 Dec. 2011: Added a preview image, like a boss. So long, boring scrolling wall of text!<br /><br />EDIT AGAIN 13 Dec. 2011: Based on feedback received, the story has undergone some revision. It's nothing too hugely story-changing, but it fixes (or attempts to, at least) a couple of issues that have been recurrently pointed out to me. Thanks for providing feedback, everyone who has! It's welcomed and appreciated. I'm ready to let the story as it is now stand as the final version, but further comments and feedback are still very appreciated, they're a large part of the basis for improving my skills for future projects. Thanks again!<br /><div><img src="http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/346/7/e/first_by_wdeleon-d4ivifh.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Revenge [Sollux Captor]</title>
                <link>http://renren13.deviantart.com/art/Revenge-Sollux-Captor-303264146</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://renren13.deviantart.com/art/Revenge-Sollux-Captor-303264146</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 20 May 2012 04:17:32 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Revenge [Sollux Captor]</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">RenRen13</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/e/renren13.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://renren13.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~RenRen13</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Just a little drabble. Came to my mind when I was feeling depressed and lonely.<br /><br />Writing is like the only thing I can do, without you know, Getting trouble with it later. Like OH YOU USED A BASE FOR THAT or sth. <br /><br />I just wanted to submit it. <br /><br />Sollux Captor/Dying!Reader<br /><br />Got the picture from Zerochan.net<br /><br />Sollux does not belong to me ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Dying!readerXsollux Captor<br /><br />It was there again, that horrible feeling of guilt that haunted me. Yes it was wrong what was happening, but it felt so good. He stared at me, his blue and red eye with a sad look in them. His eyes always enchanted me, they were beautiful. My [h/c] was being stroked by him, I could feel it, his warm touch on my head reminded me off the fact that I was still alive. It calmed me down to feel his hands going through my hair like that, yet it couldn't stop what was happening right now, it all went to fast, he could just watch as I slipped away, and left him forever. The thing was, that my health and body where always w ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th07.deviantart.net/fs70/300W/i/2012/141/3/0/revenge__sollux_captor__by_renren13-d50k042.jpg" height="623" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/141/3/0/revenge__sollux_captor__by_renren13-d50k042.jpg" height="150" width="72"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Just a little drabble. Came to my mind when I was feeling depressed and lonely.<br /><br />Writing is like the only thing I can do, without you know, Getting trouble with it later. Like OH YOU USED A BASE FOR THAT or sth. <br /><br />I just wanted to submit it. <br /><br />Sollux Captor/Dying!Reader<br /><br />Got the picture from Zerochan.net<br /><br />Sollux does not belong to me<br /><div><img src="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/141/3/0/revenge__sollux_captor__by_renren13-d50k042.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Angels with Dirty Faces</title>
                <link>http://futilitarian.deviantart.com/art/Angels-with-Dirty-Faces-216412613</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://futilitarian.deviantart.com/art/Angels-with-Dirty-Faces-216412613</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 2011 08:06:09 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Angels with Dirty Faces</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">futilitarian</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/f/u/futilitarian.gif?5</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://futilitarian.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 =futilitarian</media:copyright>
            <media:community>
                <media:tags>@pathetical</media:tags>
            </media:community>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Written for the <a href="http://nycterent.deviantart.com/journal/41179454/">Private Eye Contest</a><br /><br />Quite an odd take on the contest rules, I fear.<br /><br />I welcome feedback, but can't edit until the contest is over. No idea what I'll do with the piece after that, anyway. :/<br /><br />The title is from a real Noir (like what this is not) Movie released in 1938, and starring James Cagney and Humphrey Bogart. It doesn't have much to do with the story, but I couldn't think of another title.<br /><br />Word count 4,401 ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Heath Thornton had heard many rumors about himself, and not all of them were true.<br /><br />They said that Thornton had been born a cop, with a badge and gun in his hand as he elbowed his way out of his mother's womb.  That was not true.<br /><br />They said his father had been a gangster and his mother a whore.  That was true; at least until the day in '51 when he turned seventeen, joined the police force and put them both inside Dallas County Jail for life.<br /><br />They said he shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.  Thornton didn't remember Reno, but there had been a lot of men, a lot of towns and a lot of bullets.  He wouldn't have shot someone just for the he ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Written for the <a href="http://nycterent.deviantart.com/journal/41179454/">Private Eye Contest</a><br /><br />Quite an odd take on the contest rules, I fear.<br /><br />I welcome feedback, but can't edit until the contest is over. No idea what I'll do with the piece after that, anyway. :/<br /><br />The title is from a real Noir (like what this is not) Movie released in 1938, and starring James Cagney and Humphrey Bogart. It doesn't have much to do with the story, but I couldn't think of another title.<br /><br />Word count 4,401 ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Male stripper in labor</title>
                <link>http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/Male-stripper-in-labor-167505016</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/Male-stripper-in-labor-167505016</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 13 Jun 2010 09:53:12 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Male stripper in labor</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">aes567</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/e/aes567.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://aes567.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~aes567</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ WARNING: mpreg, graphic scenes, nc-17 ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Short birth scenario, inspired by "Almost Everything" by Destiny, a short mpreg story I found on expansionstories before the site was closed. Some parts are almost the same as the original...<br /><br />MALE STRIPPER IN LABOR<br /><br />HE WAS IN LABOR. He didn't know what he was going to do, how he was going to deliver these babies, NAKED and alone. He grabbed the door frame for support as he stumbled into the bathroom, his enormous laboring belly looking ready to explode on his greatly muscular body. He waddled painfully toward the shower. He could deliver the babies in there, but he would need something to put them in as they were born. He dug around in the c ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ WARNING: mpreg, graphic scenes, nc-17 ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>The Cow</title>
                <link>http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com/art/The-Cow-285809281</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com/art/The-Cow-285809281</guid>
                <pubDate>Sat, 18 Feb 2012 13:56:47 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">The Cow</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Forcedlactationlover</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/f/o/forcedlactationlover.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 *Forcedlactationlover</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ A busty young woman is led into a life of sexual slavery - as a cow.<br /><br />The asterisk (*) will lead elsewhere.<br /><br />Mature only.<br /><br />Comments welcome. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[     Jeanine was not prepared for this. As a debt-ridden ex-college student who had not quite gotten her degree, she had sought a quick way to make some money to pay her loans down. This had seemed a perfect opportunity, quick cash, and a lot of it, for a summer's internship in an experimental project. And the up-front money was a financial saviour. <br />    But the isolation that came with the work was more than she wanted. To be cut off from her family was not a burden; They were a narrow-minded, even bigoted lot that didn't even approve of female education. Neither parents nor her brother and sister were ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ A busty young woman is led into a life of sexual slavery - as a cow.<br /><br />The asterisk (*) will lead elsewhere.<br /><br />Mature only.<br /><br />Comments welcome. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Bunny's Diary</title>
                <link>http://darkgoddessk.deviantart.com/art/Bunny-s-Diary-335009652</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://darkgoddessk.deviantart.com/art/Bunny-s-Diary-335009652</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 29 Oct 2012 12:48:53 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Bunny's Diary</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">DarkGoddessK</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/d/a/darkgoddessk.gif</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://darkgoddessk.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~DarkGoddessK</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Something I wrote for <a href="http://screamprompts.deviantart.com/">[link]</a> October Prompt #29. Something you shouldn't have heard...<br /><br />*EDIT* OMG. I got a DD! 0_0 OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMG. Thank you to the people who nominated me! Holy cow on a barbecue.... ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Monday, 23rd of Neverwhen<br /><br />I felt the buzzing in my head like flies dying from the inside out. I reached up to grab my ears and found soft black hair there, coursing down my head like it belonged there. What the hell was this? Changed again? Where did this regeneration power come from? I wasn't special. Hell I wasn't even normal. So what gave? All these questions and the answers were never coming. Why bother with what I knew when what I didn't know could fill volumes. At least that's how it played out to me. That's how I heard it. That voice, that grating bullshit voice I always heard when I set pen to paper or set foot out of my door with a  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Something I wrote for <a href="http://screamprompts.deviantart.com/">[link]</a> October Prompt #29. Something you shouldn't have heard...<br /><br />*EDIT* OMG. I got a DD! 0_0 OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMG. Thank you to the people who nominated me! Holy cow on a barbecue.... ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Lifetime Supply</title>
                <link>http://invizking.deviantart.com/art/Lifetime-Supply-208247948</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://invizking.deviantart.com/art/Lifetime-Supply-208247948</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 09 May 2011 16:42:21 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Lifetime Supply</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">InvizKing</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/i/n/invizking.gif</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://invizking.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~InvizKing</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ The details behind this idea are best left undisclosed, but let's just say that it came from an offer for a lifetime supply of cream filling. I liked the notion, but had a hard time forming into a substantial story. As such, this is little more than a plotless vehicle to get the idea out of my head as messily as possible.<br /><br />This tale should cater to those who like the idea of expansion before an audience, force-feeding, and the 'splodies. Dang, who would want to read that? ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Lifetime Supply<br /><br />"Welcome back!  In an unprecedented sweep, our contestant Millie made it to the final round of this evening's show!  How do you feel, Millie?"<br /><br />Luke Jawgoode thrust his microphone into the curly-haired redhead's freckled face and grinned ear-to-ear.<br /><br />Her response of, "Uh&#133;" echoed throughout the soundstage before Luke whipped the mic back in front of his own greasy lips.<br /><br />"That's swell!  Real swell!  You're lucky, Millie, because you get to spin The Hexagon of Goodies to see what you'll win if you answer the question right in tonight's Lifetime Supply climax!  Are you ready?"<br /><br />The microphone was in front of Millie for a f ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ The details behind this idea are best left undisclosed, but let's just say that it came from an offer for a lifetime supply of cream filling. I liked the notion, but had a hard time forming into a substantial story. As such, this is little more than a plotless vehicle to get the idea out of my head as messily as possible.<br /><br />This tale should cater to those who like the idea of expansion before an audience, force-feeding, and the 'splodies. Dang, who would want to read that? ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Judy Loves Cake</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Judy-Loves-Cake-175466158</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Judy-Loves-Cake-175466158</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 15 Aug 2010 14:03:28 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Judy Loves Cake</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Meh, just an old story that I thought I'd submit. It's short so maybe it's less "repetetive" and "mediocre." <br /><br />Also, it wold be nice if people commented with something other than "MORE" or complaints that I'm a slow writer. I do have real life concerns that take priority over this sort of thing. If you're incapable of saying anything except MOAR, then you could at least give me some llamas and then maybe I'll post something more interesting! I WANT 100 LLAMAS! I must have them! <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/biggrin.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":D" title=":D (Big Grin)"/> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Judy had always been a chubby girl but she'd gained a lot of weight since she began college.  She was a plump Indian girl with a generous build, soft folded love-handles and a plush tummy that loved tasties.  Unfortunately, Judy's parents were not pleased with their daughter's size, and strictly controlled what she was allowed to put between her lips.  Even so, Judy's natural softness always asserted itself.  If she'd been born in a prior century, her supple curves and pudgy middle would have made her a prime candidate for a belly dancer.  As it was, they only garnered her criticism.<br />	But that changed when she left home.  Without her parents ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Meh, just an old story that I thought I'd submit. It's short so maybe it's less "repetetive" and "mediocre." <br /><br />Also, it wold be nice if people commented with something other than "MORE" or complaints that I'm a slow writer. I do have real life concerns that take priority over this sort of thing. If you're incapable of saying anything except MOAR, then you could at least give me some llamas and then maybe I'll post something more interesting! I WANT 100 LLAMAS! I must have them! <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/biggrin.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":D" title=":D (Big Grin)"/> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Martha's Last Straw</title>
                <link>http://elroycohen.deviantart.com/art/Martha-s-Last-Straw-324502677</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://elroycohen.deviantart.com/art/Martha-s-Last-Straw-324502677</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 31 Aug 2012 13:09:14 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Martha's Last Straw</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">elroycohen</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/e/l/elroycohen.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://elroycohen.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~elroycohen</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ A short one that was somewhat inspired by an episode of Maury. It's definitely another dark one, so beware all the venture to read further. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Mom's too fat for that, was a term the girls heard many times growing up. It was dad's answer anytime they asked for mom to do anything or go anywhere. And fat she most definitely was. From as far back as the girls could remember mom had been morbidly obese. A waddling, jiggling mass of undulating flesh barely contained by sweats or pajamas. And she only got bigger as the girls got older.<br /><br />Back in the beginning mom was big but more then able to get around. Even though dad obviously preferred her at home on the couch. She went out some, mostly to take the girls to school. Every once in a while she would get out herself to go shopping, sometime ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ A short one that was somewhat inspired by an episode of Maury. It's definitely another dark one, so beware all the venture to read further. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Punks thought :PunkEngland:</title>
                <link>http://yarj.deviantart.com/art/Punks-thought-PunkEngland-265730436</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://yarj.deviantart.com/art/Punks-thought-PunkEngland-265730436</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 28 Oct 2011 08:15:03 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Punks thought :PunkEngland:</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Yarj</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/y/a/yarj.jpg?6</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://yarj.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~Yarj</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Why I write so much about England? ù.ù<br />(Because he's cool, hot, handsome and he needs love!)<br />However, this was a request from <a target="_self" href="http://emo-kaylah.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/e/m/emo-kaylah.gif?4" alt=":iconemo-kaylah:" title="Emo-Kaylah"/></a>, hope I did it has you meant!<br />It's the first time I write something like this... do you think it needs warning?<br /><br />I had to research about raves and punks. I don't want to offend anyone: if I totally wrote wrong about punks thought, please don't kill me, just tell it and I'll write it here!<br /><br />In this challenge ---&gt; <a href="http://yarj.deviantart.com/journal/45006086/">[link]</a> It has the number 52. Anarchy.<br /><br />Like this? I take requests: <a href="http://yarj.deviantart.com/journal/44627148/">[link]</a> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Punks' thought: Punk!EnglandxReader<br /><br />You looked at the chaotic streets of London, full of a lot of people running here and there and talking to someone invisible, probably in the mobile. You were doing a project about punks style of life, and so you went in London, the heart of the punk thought. In fact, you were doing that project mostly for understand why punks acted in such a way. But first you needed to meet someone who could explain it to you. You entered in a pub and ordered a gin tonic, but you where distracted and took a beer which was near to your gin. &#150; Hey darling, that isn't for you &#150; laughed the boy who ordered the beer ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Why I write so much about England? ù.ù<br />(Because he's cool, hot, handsome and he needs love!)<br />However, this was a request from <a target="_self" href="http://emo-kaylah.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/e/m/emo-kaylah.gif?4" alt=":iconemo-kaylah:" title="Emo-Kaylah"/></a>, hope I did it has you meant!<br />It's the first time I write something like this... do you think it needs warning?<br /><br />I had to research about raves and punks. I don't want to offend anyone: if I totally wrote wrong about punks thought, please don't kill me, just tell it and I'll write it here!<br /><br />In this challenge ---&gt; <a href="http://yarj.deviantart.com/journal/45006086/">[link]</a> It has the number 52. Anarchy.<br /><br />Like this? I take requests: <a href="http://yarj.deviantart.com/journal/44627148/">[link]</a> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Wendy</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Wendy-156138931</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Wendy-156138931</guid>
                <pubDate>Thu, 04 Mar 2010 01:11:42 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Wendy</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ An old story I wrote long ago. It's different than my usual style, meant as an homage to a writer called The Admirer. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Hi. The name's Wendy, Wendy Carter and this is the story of how I got fat. Let me describe myself: tall black girl, long wavy raven hair, deep soft eyes, full pouty lips. I used to be a svelte thing, slender waist, rounded hips, nice ass, perky tits. Made a good living as a fashion model. I was every man's dream girl. I never had to worry about anything I ate, either, since I had such a high metabolism. Nothing I ate ever stuck to me.<br /><br />That all stopped when I got married. Rich is such a sweetie. Says he'd take care of me for the rest of my life. Means it too. I can't resist that. Plus he's rich. That never hurts things.<br /><br />At first, I want to k ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ An old story I wrote long ago. It's different than my usual style, meant as an homage to a writer called The Admirer. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Katy - Part II</title>
                <link>http://studiofa.deviantart.com/art/Katy-Part-II-216842289</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://studiofa.deviantart.com/art/Katy-Part-II-216842289</guid>
                <pubDate>Tue, 05 Jul 2011 15:19:04 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Katy - Part II</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Studiofa</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/t/studiofa.gif?4</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://studiofa.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~Studiofa</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ See part one for all the description you might ask for, and then some. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Katy (a fattening story) &#150; Part II<br />by<br />The Studio<br /><br />Three months later, Bill and Katy became man and wife.  At their wedding reception, Katy ate so much wedding cake that she almost popped a stitch on her dress.  For the honeymoon, the two drove out to Las Vegas to celebrate.  All along the way, Katy insisted on stopping at every restaurant that looked interesting.  At each one, she ate like there was no tomorrow, filling herself with platter after platter of fattening selections.  Because of their constant stops, it took them over a week to reach Vegas.  By the time they made it to their first casino, every outfit that Katy had brought  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ See part one for all the description you might ask for, and then some. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Lucy 2</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Lucy-2-303852994</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Lucy-2-303852994</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 23 May 2012 00:26:20 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Lucy 2</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ People keep asking to read a conclusion for the story of Lucy at <a href="http://fav.me/doep6x">[link]</a> This is a continuation that I wrote years ago but then forgot to post. I hope you enjoy it. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Lucy heaved herself to her feet and lumbered over to the couch, where she threw herself down.  She was still stuffed from breakfast, but not so stuffed that she couldn't fit in a little snack.  Dr.Richards had told her that this was the most important part of her regiment.  She could never go hungry.  Instead, she was to eat constantly, making sure that she was always full full full to bursting.  Lucy was so big that moving was becoming more and more difficult. When she wasn't eating, she spent most of her time lying in bed.  She hated exercise more and more with every pound that she gained.  Lucy was turning into a lazy pig.<br />	Her parents we ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ People keep asking to read a conclusion for the story of Lucy at <a href="http://fav.me/doep6x">[link]</a> This is a continuation that I wrote years ago but then forgot to post. I hope you enjoy it. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>What does it take to break?</title>
                <link>http://countesspruben.deviantart.com/art/What-does-it-take-to-break-338607572</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://countesspruben.deviantart.com/art/What-does-it-take-to-break-338607572</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2012 10:05:05 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">What does it take to break?</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">CountessPruben</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/c/o/countesspruben.png?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://countesspruben.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~CountessPruben</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Pic not mine, PruCan story. Enjoy ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ His lips were on mine suddenly and I had to fight the urge to retch. Even the sight of his eyebrows repulsed me now. Reminders of a tormented past I was trying desperately to get away from. I pushed him off and wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. "I told you, no more of this. I'm done Arthur."<br /><br />The smirk on his face grew painfully apparent, he grabbed the collar of my shirt, "Don't you ever forget who helped make you my little moose." His teeth were bared and his laugh was sharp, I cringed beneath it.  This side of Arthur, even Alfred didn't know. "I can't let you do this!"<br /><br />"Who's gonna stop me? You think just because someone else ca ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th07.deviantart.net/fs70/300W/i/2012/324/b/d/what_does_it_take_to_break__by_countesspruben-d5llj9w.jpg" height="375" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/324/b/d/what_does_it_take_to_break__by_countesspruben-d5llj9w.jpg" height="150" width="120"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Pic not mine, PruCan story. Enjoy<br /><div><img src="http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/324/b/d/what_does_it_take_to_break__by_countesspruben-d5llj9w.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Post-Pregnancy Pepper</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Post-Pregnancy-Pepper-192873609</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Post-Pregnancy-Pepper-192873609</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 09 Jan 2011 19:12:10 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Post-Pregnancy Pepper</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Just because I know some joker will complain about the outcome in Food Fight, here's a second, gentler story that I've been sitting on for a while. I hope it pleases. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Post-pregnancy Pepper<br /><br />"Pepper, are you okay?! What's that noise?"<br />	Matt burst into the bedroom, looking for the source of that horrible moaning noise.  Expecting to find his wife injured, he was surprised to see her lying on their bed, naked but for her little pink panties, desperately trying to shimmy her way into a yellow spandex stretch catsuit.  <br />	"I'm fine," she huffed, "Just&#133;having some&#133;trouble!"  With a grunt, Pepper lifted her rounded butt off the bed and yanked at the clingy material, trying futily to pull it up over her bum.  It didn't want to cooperate.<br />	Matt groaned.  "Pepper, what are you doing?"<br />The plump young bl ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Just because I know some joker will complain about the outcome in Food Fight, here's a second, gentler story that I've been sitting on for a while. I hope it pleases. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Chance Encounter</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Chance-Encounter-190160906</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Chance-Encounter-190160906</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 19 Dec 2010 14:25:11 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Chance Encounter</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ No clue where this really came from. Sometimes I start writing and it just veers off into weird directions. Oh well! Felt like I ought to post something since it's been so difficult to get anything new down on paper recently. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Tanya sat transfixed as the train pulled out of the station.  She'd only just made it onto the train mere moments before it pulled from the station.  Those last several meters had been a sprint and Tanya felt completely winded. Phew, she was out of shape!  And pulling out a pocket mirror to check herself, she frowned as she realized that the run had disheveled her perfectly coiffed hair.  She groaned inwardly. Naturally, she looked afright!  And on today of all days&#133;<br />	Because sitting across from her was the most gorgeous girl that Tanya had ever seen.<br />	A large honey-colored girl with long jet-black hair sat across from her.  The girl l ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ No clue where this really came from. Sometimes I start writing and it just veers off into weird directions. Oh well! Felt like I ought to post something since it's been so difficult to get anything new down on paper recently. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Morgan (Redone) Part 1</title>
                <link>http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Morgan-Redone-Part-1-353224890</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Morgan-Redone-Part-1-353224890</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 08 Feb 2013 20:55:33 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Morgan (Redone) Part 1</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">ravens-son</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/a/ravens-son.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 *ravens-son</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ As I said above, this story idea isn't mine. Not entirely. In the original story (<a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1954560">[link]</a>) Morgan's mother does do a 180 in regards to her daughter's weight and the people at school do keep giving her food, but she thinks nothing of it and never reflects on how her life has changed so drastically in so short a time. There's also significant writing flaws and plotholes (like the narrator talking to her once, then walking away, then talking to her again and suddenly they're dating?) that I excised by tightening the focus to just Morgan becoming the center of attention at home and school and reveling in it.<br /><br />I am promising 99% that there will be a sequel, hopefully maybe I can get it written over the next three days. Things will really get out of hand in that. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ (XWG, SSBBW, overeating)<br />(This story is based on a work over at the Dimensions forums that was not only abandoned, but which had serious flaws to begin with. I know it's often arrogant to say "I could write better than this," but this is a case where I felt it was plainly obvious. So, I've redone the story in my own vision. I also have an idea for Part 2 where things really get out of control, which I'll probably post only here because the Dimensions forums don't usually get that kind of stuff. Hopefully it won't take long before I write and post Part 2, but feel free to bug me if a month goes by and there's nothing.)<br /><br />***<br /><br />&ldquo;What, there ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ As I said above, this story idea isn't mine. Not entirely. In the original story (<a class="external" href="http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1954560">[link]</a>) Morgan's mother does do a 180 in regards to her daughter's weight and the people at school do keep giving her food, but she thinks nothing of it and never reflects on how her life has changed so drastically in so short a time. There's also significant writing flaws and plotholes (like the narrator talking to her once, then walking away, then talking to her again and suddenly they're dating?) that I excised by tightening the focus to just Morgan becoming the center of attention at home and school and reveling in it.<br /><br />I am promising 99% that there will be a sequel, hopefully maybe I can get it written over the next three days. Things will really get out of hand in that. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Katy</title>
                <link>http://studiofa.deviantart.com/art/Katy-216841610</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://studiofa.deviantart.com/art/Katy-216841610</guid>
                <pubDate>Tue, 05 Jul 2011 15:14:59 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Katy</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Studiofa</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/t/studiofa.gif?4</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://studiofa.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~Studiofa</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Here's another fantastically fattening tale from the way-back machine. If I were ranking my stories from favorite to least, this would sit somewhere in the middle. I like the scene at the end of the story where it describes the half-ton Katy getting to her feet. It's an example of another sub-strata of fat fetishism that I enjoy - the struggle of poundage. <br /><br />I was walking in a local park the other day, and was fortunate enough to happen upon a group of women and children playing kick ball. Three of the women were all heavy-set (200 to 300 pounds), but one of them was over 400 if she weighed an ounce. She got in a good enough kick to make it to second base, and I was transfixed. The sight of all that flesh lurching hither and yon was utterly hypnotic and, by the time she made the base, I'd have been right at home drooling beside one of Pavlov's dogs. That sprint must have worn her out because when the next kick sent her to third, she barely managed a trot and they got her out. She waddled straight to her lawn chair, sat down, wiped her forehead, and pulled a snack from the bag beside her. Now that's my kind of woman.<br /><br />On a different note -- I have spent some time in the south, and it actually agreed with me. Culturally, it seems to be a portion of the U.S. that's maligned for being "redneck" or "country", but I greatly enjoyed the lack of pretense and the "down home" atmosphere. It's also where I laid eyes on some of the fattest women I've ever seen, so there's that to like too. In the smaller towns, those fat women weren't treated with derision or ridicule; they were just ordinary folk who obviously liked to eat. <br /><br />I was at a small diner one afternoon when a slender twig of a man staggered in, outfitted with a neck and back brace, and using a crutch. His face was bruised, and he looked like he'd been in a car wreck or on the losing end of one helluva fight. Right behind him, steadying him as he walked, was a copious specimen of femininity who must have weighed over 600 pounds. They made their way to a table and, after they got seated, a man at the bar turned and said, "Now Joe...I keep tellin' ya'...when you're doin' it, you have GOT to be the one on top!" The whole place broke out into laughter, including the man and woman, who returned fire with a friendly jape or two of their own. That's how things were down there. So if you wonder why stories like "Katy" and even the stalled "H.E.L.G.A." tale feature folks with drawls, it's because I have an affinity for them, and the areas from which they come.<br /><br />Whew...this description's gotten long. That's what happens when waxing sentimental. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Katy (a fattening story) - Part I<br />by<br />The Studio<br /><br />He'd been a lover of plumpers for as long as he could remember.  Even in high school, while his friends were giving their attention to the svelte, trim, and athletic chicks, he was looking at the fatties.  He lusted for their rolls of flesh, adored their waddling walks, and longed to find a fat woman to call his own.  Over the years, he dated some big women, unconcerned with the opinions of his peers or the ridicule they hurled at him because of his tastes.  Each year, as he became more discriminating in his tastes for women of size, he found himself st ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Here's another fantastically fattening tale from the way-back machine. If I were ranking my stories from favorite to least, this would sit somewhere in the middle. I like the scene at the end of the story where it describes the half-ton Katy getting to her feet. It's an example of another sub-strata of fat fetishism that I enjoy - the struggle of poundage. <br /><br />I was walking in a local park the other day, and was fortunate enough to happen upon a group of women and children playing kick ball. Three of the women were all heavy-set (200 to 300 pounds), but one of them was over 400 if she weighed an ounce. She got in a good enough kick to make it to second base, and I was transfixed. The sight of all that flesh lurching hither and yon was utterly hypnotic and, by the time she made the base, I'd have been right at home drooling beside one of Pavlov's dogs. That sprint must have worn her out because when the next kick sent her to third, she barely managed a trot and they got her out. She waddled straight to her lawn chair, sat down, wiped her forehead, and pulled a snack from the bag beside her. Now that's my kind of woman.<br /><br />On a different note -- I have spent some time in the south, and it actually agreed with me. Culturally, it seems to be a portion of the U.S. that's maligned for being "redneck" or "country", but I greatly enjoyed the lack of pretense and the "down home" atmosphere. It's also where I laid eyes on some of the fattest women I've ever seen, so there's that to like too. In the smaller towns, those fat women weren't treated with derision or ridicule; they were just ordinary folk who obviously liked to eat. <br /><br />I was at a small diner one afternoon when a slender twig of a man staggered in, outfitted with a neck and back brace, and using a crutch. His face was bruised, and he looked like he'd been in a car wreck or on the losing end of one helluva fight. Right behind him, steadying him as he walked, was a copious specimen of femininity who must have weighed over 600 pounds. They made their way to a table and, after they got seated, a man at the bar turned and said, "Now Joe...I keep tellin' ya'...when you're doin' it, you have GOT to be the one on top!" The whole place broke out into laughter, including the man and woman, who returned fire with a friendly jape or two of their own. That's how things were down there. So if you wonder why stories like "Katy" and even the stalled "H.E.L.G.A." tale feature folks with drawls, it's because I have an affinity for them, and the areas from which they come.<br /><br />Whew...this description's gotten long. That's what happens when waxing sentimental. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>School Sissy Fantasy</title>
                <link>http://sissydemi.deviantart.com/art/School-Sissy-Fantasy-199278551</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://sissydemi.deviantart.com/art/School-Sissy-Fantasy-199278551</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 28 Feb 2011 18:16:04 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">School Sissy Fantasy</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">SissyDemi</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/i/sissydemi.png?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://sissydemi.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~SissyDemi</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ This is not some attempt at a Pulitzer, or to make some earth shattering literary statement. Nope. If you are looking for deep characterization or nuanced subplots, move on. This tale is not for you.<br /><br />This is what I call One-Handed Reading. It is an exploration of my fantasies involving crossdressing. Sometimes it is sweet, sometimes it is sexual. And while many of them involve teen-aged characters, they are merely manifestations of my own psyche, glimpses of my deepest fantasies. I would never condone anything like this happening in real life.<br /><br />I wrote this particular one-handed story five or six years ago just for myself (2005-6). No one has seen this one. It has never been posted before.<br /><br />It was written as a one sided conversation between a nameless antagonist and school-aged boy.The cause for punishment is never stated. Nor is the school boy's age ever given. <br /><br />In my mind, and that of the story's new readers, these things can be whatever fits your mood upon that reading.<br /><br />Should you need a reason or specific antagonist, add the following as the third paragraph:<br /><br />"I warned you to stop playing pranks on me. You may have thought setting off a remote control stink bomb in my closet was going to be funny, but you didn't count on me finding it and moving it to yours, instead. It is going to take weeks to get the smell out of your room, let alone your clothes. And don't think you're off the hook, my pet. Oh, no! As your step-mother it behooves me to correct your behavior."<br /><br />The only other changes from the original are the addition of the very last line and spelling corrections. (Originally many of the words were spelled phonetically so the text-to-speech program I had could read it to me! ::wink:<img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/smile.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":)" title=":) (Smile)"/><br /><br />If you enjoyed this one-handed read, let me know. I might post others. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ One-Handed Reading: A School Sissy Fantasy (TG)<br /><br />Come here Chris.<br /><br />You've been a naughty little boy, haven't you?<br /><br />So, I am going to punish you, make you an adorable sweet pretty sissy boy. I'm going to dress you up in some of your step-sister's clothes and make you go to school. But don't worry litle sissy, I won't make you look like a girl.<br /><br />No. You will look just like the naughty boy you are, only wearing cute girlish clothes.<br /><br />Hmmm. How about this outfit? Do you like it Chrissie? Oh, yes. That is your new name too. Chrissie. Say it with me. Chris-see. So femmy, don't you think? Perfect for a cute sissy boy who just adores his girly clothe ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ This is not some attempt at a Pulitzer, or to make some earth shattering literary statement. Nope. If you are looking for deep characterization or nuanced subplots, move on. This tale is not for you.<br /><br />This is what I call One-Handed Reading. It is an exploration of my fantasies involving crossdressing. Sometimes it is sweet, sometimes it is sexual. And while many of them involve teen-aged characters, they are merely manifestations of my own psyche, glimpses of my deepest fantasies. I would never condone anything like this happening in real life.<br /><br />I wrote this particular one-handed story five or six years ago just for myself (2005-6). No one has seen this one. It has never been posted before.<br /><br />It was written as a one sided conversation between a nameless antagonist and school-aged boy.The cause for punishment is never stated. Nor is the school boy's age ever given. <br /><br />In my mind, and that of the story's new readers, these things can be whatever fits your mood upon that reading.<br /><br />Should you need a reason or specific antagonist, add the following as the third paragraph:<br /><br />"I warned you to stop playing pranks on me. You may have thought setting off a remote control stink bomb in my closet was going to be funny, but you didn't count on me finding it and moving it to yours, instead. It is going to take weeks to get the smell out of your room, let alone your clothes. And don't think you're off the hook, my pet. Oh, no! As your step-mother it behooves me to correct your behavior."<br /><br />The only other changes from the original are the addition of the very last line and spelling corrections. (Originally many of the words were spelled phonetically so the text-to-speech program I had could read it to me! ::wink:<img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/smile.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":)" title=":) (Smile)"/><br /><br />If you enjoyed this one-handed read, let me know. I might post others. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Donna's Heaven</title>
                <link>http://studiofa.deviantart.com/art/Donna-s-Heaven-217228208</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://studiofa.deviantart.com/art/Donna-s-Heaven-217228208</guid>
                <pubDate>Thu, 07 Jul 2011 17:24:51 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Donna's Heaven</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Studiofa</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/t/studiofa.gif?4</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://studiofa.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~Studiofa</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Heres another tale from the archives, and one that many have told me they enjoyed. Im a huge fan of literature so, when I measure it against short stories by true authors Ive read, its just a trifle. However, none of those men or women wrote about a womans journey into the outskirts of fatness, so it has some worth in that regard. I received one comment in response to a previous story posting, where I gave a description than included an assessment of my writing abilities  it said, It'd have been better to say nothing at all than to claim you aren't a writer. Perhaps thats true, but it aint my style. If Im to err, then Id rather it be on the side of openness and expression, rather than avoidance or silence. It was that spirit that caused me to type out these tales in the first place, giving voice to a desire that I felt deserving of time and attention. But when using words to describe whats in my head, I often feel like Im using a hatchet when I really need a scalpel. When Im drawing, I dont feel quite that blunt, for whatever reason. <br /> <br />While I have written stories (and done drawings) that extend far beyond the reach of nature, I have the deepest appreciate for those tales and images that could be true, yet stretch things as far as possibleand this is one of those. Theres no sorcery, suspension of the laws of physics, or abandonment of physiological limitations here; its just a tale of a glutton, her lover, and a proprietor named Kay who take things to the extreme. And just so you know, I <i>am</i> happy that stories like this one have entertained and inspired others, and contributed to the scope of weight-gain related work  thats a really cool thing to hear. I just think that the highest standards have yet to be metthough its not for lack of trying. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Donna's Heaven<br />by<br />The Studio<br /><br />I am writing this to all the lovers of fat women out there.  Many of you are still in the closet, hiding your true desires, unwilling to admit to this streamlined, aerobicised world that you like your women fat.  I used to be like that.  I felt out of place in a world where thinner was hailed as better.  I was afraid of what my friends might say, afraid of the ridicule.  Now I am a true convert.  I set aside my inhibitions and have come to experience the truly encompassing beauty of a heavy woman.  This is my story.<br /><br />I didn't become a fatty lover overnight.  I lived in a state of denial, trying to convince myse ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Heres another tale from the archives, and one that many have told me they enjoyed. Im a huge fan of literature so, when I measure it against short stories by true authors Ive read, its just a trifle. However, none of those men or women wrote about a womans journey into the outskirts of fatness, so it has some worth in that regard. I received one comment in response to a previous story posting, where I gave a description than included an assessment of my writing abilities  it said, It'd have been better to say nothing at all than to claim you aren't a writer. Perhaps thats true, but it aint my style. If Im to err, then Id rather it be on the side of openness and expression, rather than avoidance or silence. It was that spirit that caused me to type out these tales in the first place, giving voice to a desire that I felt deserving of time and attention. But when using words to describe whats in my head, I often feel like Im using a hatchet when I really need a scalpel. When Im drawing, I dont feel quite that blunt, for whatever reason. <br /> <br />While I have written stories (and done drawings) that extend far beyond the reach of nature, I have the deepest appreciate for those tales and images that could be true, yet stretch things as far as possibleand this is one of those. Theres no sorcery, suspension of the laws of physics, or abandonment of physiological limitations here; its just a tale of a glutton, her lover, and a proprietor named Kay who take things to the extreme. And just so you know, I <i>am</i> happy that stories like this one have entertained and inspired others, and contributed to the scope of weight-gain related work  thats a really cool thing to hear. I just think that the highest standards have yet to be metthough its not for lack of trying. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Force Feeding</title>
                <link>http://thejackalpb.deviantart.com/art/Force-Feeding-207449285</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://thejackalpb.deviantart.com/art/Force-Feeding-207449285</guid>
                <pubDate>Tue, 03 May 2011 13:38:39 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Force Feeding</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">thejackalpb</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/t/h/thejackalpb.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://thejackalpb.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~thejackalpb</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ A nice idea that I'm surprised I hadn't thought of sooner. I tried to resist making her go "Pop!", as I don't like ending a story that way.<br /><br />Enjoy. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ It was early morning. The last tray of food was placed on the table. Amy's ruby lips formed a small arch of excitement. After all of the money, time and effort she had managed to construct a banquet large enough. Before her were three tables, piled high with assorted goodies. Cakes, biscuits, pastries, sweets. Enough confectionary to kill, she thought, but she had no intention of dying. This thin woman wanted to eat, and the urge was so powerful that she had to leave the room simply to avoid surging into one of the gorge mountains. Now in the kitchen, she returned to the open book on the side counter. It was a telephone directory, open at a s ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ A nice idea that I'm surprised I hadn't thought of sooner. I tried to resist making her go "Pop!", as I don't like ending a story that way.<br /><br />Enjoy. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Insatiable</title>
                <link>http://invizking.deviantart.com/art/Insatiable-330312375</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://invizking.deviantart.com/art/Insatiable-330312375</guid>
                <pubDate>Tue, 02 Oct 2012 04:56:21 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Insatiable</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">InvizKing</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/i/n/invizking.gif</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://invizking.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~InvizKing</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ I've been busy with a lot of real life things and have had scant time to devote to writing smut. It takes the perfect cocktail of loneliness and insomnia to crank something like this out. Lucky (or unlucky, as it were) for you all, tonight was one such night.<br /><br />I wrote and edited this in about two hours, and tried to go extreme in every aspect except for narrative. I suppose the lack of plot is extreme in its own way. I don't think anyone who typically reads these type of stories does it to be an intellectual. <br /><br />I had a very vivid picture of how this should go down from start to finish, so hopefully that showed in the descriptions. If not  oh, well. Maybe someone will draw a picture. Thanks for reading! ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Insatiable<br />By Invizking<br /><br />The warm August air tickled her navel and sent goosebumps up the bare flesh of her stomach.   Every last button had launched from the fabric of her once-loose dress; there were still thirty cherry pies left.<br /><br />As with most reckless decisions, her predicament began on a whimsical dare.<br /><br />"One hundred pies!" her friends jeered.<br /><br />"It can't be done," they goaded.<br /><br />"You'll quit after the fifth slice," they taunted.<br /><br />But she didn't quit after the fifth, nor did she quit after the fiftieth, nor her five-hundreth.  Her friends watched with morbid fascination as, with each bite, her stomach bulged, her hips slithered ever outwa ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ I've been busy with a lot of real life things and have had scant time to devote to writing smut. It takes the perfect cocktail of loneliness and insomnia to crank something like this out. Lucky (or unlucky, as it were) for you all, tonight was one such night.<br /><br />I wrote and edited this in about two hours, and tried to go extreme in every aspect except for narrative. I suppose the lack of plot is extreme in its own way. I don't think anyone who typically reads these type of stories does it to be an intellectual. <br /><br />I had a very vivid picture of how this should go down from start to finish, so hopefully that showed in the descriptions. If not  oh, well. Maybe someone will draw a picture. Thanks for reading! ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Home For The Holidays</title>
                <link>http://onion88.deviantart.com/art/Home-For-The-Holidays-276385885</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://onion88.deviantart.com/art/Home-For-The-Holidays-276385885</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 28 Dec 2011 20:20:44 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Home For The Holidays</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Onion88</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/o/n/onion88.gif?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://onion88.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~Onion88</media:copyright>             <creativeCommons:license>http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/</creativeCommons:license>
                <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Bet you didn't see this one coming! Ha, well, there you go, it's still technically 2011, so I did get something done this year.<br /><br />Standard WG story, nothing to write home about here.<br /><br />This should really be called "Home For the Holidays - Part 1", as there should be more to come. However, we all know that I can be a little (*cough*) unreliable when it comes to writing followups. So let's be cautious and pretend like the next instalment may or may not appear in due course!<br /><br />One thing that would help along the process of getting the next instalment done would be a boatload of comments on this one. I love comments. Comments make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Also, you know, it's Christmas, so give me a comment <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/letters/=p.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":P" title=":P (Lick)"/> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ "Final call for flight 248, departing gate 25 &#150; final call!"<br /><br />The shrill voice over their airport speaker system spurred Kimberly to pick up her already rather rushed pace.  Pulling off a skilful balancing act between her foot-long sub, her carry-on luggage, and her large wad of boarding passes and plane tickets, the buxom blonde hurried through the labyrinthine corridors and hallways of the terminal.<br /><br />In truth, Kimberly was not a girl who was built for speed.  Last minute dashes to catch planes were not really her strong suit.  But the journey to the airport had been a nightmare (aren't they always when you ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Bet you didn't see this one coming! Ha, well, there you go, it's still technically 2011, so I did get something done this year.<br /><br />Standard WG story, nothing to write home about here.<br /><br />This should really be called "Home For the Holidays - Part 1", as there should be more to come. However, we all know that I can be a little (*cough*) unreliable when it comes to writing followups. So let's be cautious and pretend like the next instalment may or may not appear in due course!<br /><br />One thing that would help along the process of getting the next instalment done would be a boatload of comments on this one. I love comments. Comments make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Also, you know, it's Christmas, so give me a comment <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/letters/=p.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":P" title=":P (Lick)"/> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Mandy TG</title>
                <link>http://slyguy315.deviantart.com/art/Mandy-TG-205285958</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://slyguy315.deviantart.com/art/Mandy-TG-205285958</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 17 Apr 2011 13:18:51 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Mandy TG</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">slyguy315</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/l/slyguy315.png?4</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://slyguy315.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~slyguy315</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Closet TG ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ "Mandy, you can't go out you have to go to the prom!" I scream.<br />"Whatever, nobody cares about grade seven prom." She retorts. Then she slams the door and walks out<br />I fume for a bit before I stomp up to my room.<br />Then, I hear her stupid ringtone go off. If i listen to it for more than thirty seconds my head explodes, so I darted forward into her room and looked at the caller ID, wondering if I could just hang up.<br />It was her boyfreind, Max. I put on a falsetto voie and awnser.<br />"Hey pumpkin." I say.<br />"Hey cutie."He replies. "You ready to go out tonight for the prom?" He asks. I think fast, Mandy probably sais she would go with Max then ditch ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Closet TG ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Laurie Gets Her Way</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Laurie-Gets-Her-Way-340138276</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Laurie-Gets-Her-Way-340138276</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 28 Nov 2012 00:24:53 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Laurie Gets Her Way</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ This is NOT the next chapter of Alice. Instead, it's a little look into the future, in this short story about Laurie and Frank in the future. Look, they're adults!<br /><br />I hope you like this little trip into the fuuuuuture<br />Let me know what you think. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ "Oh no," said Mary, "Not Laurie Belmontès!  That bitchy blimp is the most unreasonable customer I've ever had to deal with!"<br />	"Well, don't look now, but that bitchy blimp just waddled in," said Joe, nodding his head toward the entrance.  Indeed, two people had just walked into the Jade Dragon restaurant.  One was a husky, well-built man, the other a huge woman, both in their early thirties.  Mary recognized them both.  The man was Laurie's husband, Frank, and she was grateful to see that he was accompanying his obese wife on this outing.  Unlike Laurie, Frank was polite to the wait staff and often went out of his way to smooth things over af ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ This is NOT the next chapter of Alice. Instead, it's a little look into the future, in this short story about Laurie and Frank in the future. Look, they're adults!<br /><br />I hope you like this little trip into the fuuuuuture<br />Let me know what you think. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Jean Therapy</title>
                <link>http://maverickthewriter.deviantart.com/art/Jean-Therapy-314182341</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://maverickthewriter.deviantart.com/art/Jean-Therapy-314182341</guid>
                <pubDate>Thu, 12 Jul 2012 01:04:38 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Jean Therapy</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Maverickthewriter</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/a/maverickthewriter.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://maverickthewriter.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~Maverickthewriter</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ "Jean Therapy" was inspired by a popular cereal commercial from 2007. In it, a teenaged girl shimmies into her forty-something Mothers old pants which, presumably, no longer fit her. The rest of the commercial centers around the Mother eating the advertised diet cereal in an effort to get her jeans back, while her pert Daughter continually parades past looking nubile and sexy. Of course, by the end of the commercial the Mother has triumphantly reclaimed her jeans while her daughter looks on, dismayed.<br /><br />I thought it would be fun to explore a Mom's revenge efforts that weren't so subtle and innocuous. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ "Mom!  You used to wear these?"<br /><br />Julie was holding up my favorite hip-hugger jeans, the epitome of trendiness thirty years and thirty pounds ago.<br /><br />"Yes," I said with a sigh.  "That was a long time ago."<br /><br />"No shit!"  Julie said, eyeing my ample, three-kids-by-thirty figure.  "You must've been twelve."<br /><br />Bitch.  I hated that I thought that, but her remark hit below the belt--and the belly that billowed over it.<br /><br />"Actually, I was just about your age potty-mouth."  I sucked-in my stomach and puffed-out my chest.  "And I'll have you know I was quite the dish."<br /><br />"Hmph!" Julie exclaimed, examining the pant's sixties-styled stitching and design withou ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ "Jean Therapy" was inspired by a popular cereal commercial from 2007. In it, a teenaged girl shimmies into her forty-something Mothers old pants which, presumably, no longer fit her. The rest of the commercial centers around the Mother eating the advertised diet cereal in an effort to get her jeans back, while her pert Daughter continually parades past looking nubile and sexy. Of course, by the end of the commercial the Mother has triumphantly reclaimed her jeans while her daughter looks on, dismayed.<br /><br />I thought it would be fun to explore a Mom's revenge efforts that weren't so subtle and innocuous. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Growth</title>
                <link>http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com/art/Growth-270388899</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com/art/Growth-270388899</guid>
                <pubDate>Tue, 22 Nov 2011 14:03:16 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Growth</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Forcedlactationlover</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/f/o/forcedlactationlover.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 *Forcedlactationlover</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ A young woman not quite dealing with her increasing weight. The result pleases her young man, no end.<br /><br />Another tale not kind. Adult warnings apply.<br /><br />Note that the asterisk leads to a very final ending, for both of them, in an optional continuation.<br /><br />Kindly comment. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[     She was slowly growing softer and fatter. Her friends, mostly naturally slender, were no help. They liked her well enough, but were not close to her. She wasn't sure quite why this was true, but realized that her own normally quiet and retiring personality didn't lend itself to closeness. And this had been true since she had matured between twelve and fourteen. Not popular with the boys (or later, men), either, she knew it wasn't her looks.<br />    Attractive, at the 5'2" she'd been since those early teen years, her reddish-blonde hair was a good feature. She'd heard it referred to as "honey-gold". A d ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ A young woman not quite dealing with her increasing weight. The result pleases her young man, no end.<br /><br />Another tale not kind. Adult warnings apply.<br /><br />Note that the asterisk leads to a very final ending, for both of them, in an optional continuation.<br /><br />Kindly comment. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Alice 27d</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-27d-350712239</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-27d-350712239</guid>
                <pubDate>Sat, 26 Jan 2013 12:06:52 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Alice 27d</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Wow, this was SUPPOSED to be short, but I think it's the longest chapter yet. Gonna cut down! Anyway, let me know your thoughts... &lt;3 feedback ^__^ ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ By the time Laurie&rsquo;s mother arrived, the two swollen spherical sweeties had digested enough that they could get out of the table.  Getting into Laurie&rsquo;s mom&rsquo;s tiny hybrid car was another story.  Laurie could barely fit her ass in the shot gun seat and the seat belt wouldn&rsquo;t fasten across her expansive waist.  Jen had considerable trouble getting into the backseat, her flaring hips barely passing through the car doors.  Once they were inside, the whole car settled lower, effectively turning into a lowrider.  Laurie&rsquo;s mother had to pump the ignition to get the car started, since it wasn&rsquo;t used to carrying qui ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Wow, this was SUPPOSED to be short, but I think it's the longest chapter yet. Gonna cut down! Anyway, let me know your thoughts... &lt;3 feedback ^__^ ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Alice 27a</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-27a-350710527</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-27a-350710527</guid>
                <pubDate>Sat, 26 Jan 2013 11:59:32 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Alice 27a</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Phew, this was SUPPOSED to be a shorter chapter but it still ended up being huge. I really need to do these in smaller chunks. Anyway, here's the next chapter after way too long a hiatus. There are some things different about this one, so I would appreciate any feedback. Let me know what you liked or didn't like so I can improve in the future! ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ After her large meal, Jen barely had the strength to stand up and leave the table.  Her gut bulged in front of her so far that she could barely see over it, but it didn&rsquo;t matter; she was so dizzy that she could barely see straight.<br />            &ldquo;Need some fresh air,&rdquo; she mumbled as she waddled heavily toward the sliding glass door that led to the backyard.  She ambled outside and flopped down heavily on a plastic lawn chair.<br />Jen slept fitfully for three days.  After a whole weekend of baking in the hot sun, the ditzy diva&rsquo;s tender skin was baked a golden brown.  Her weight bore down the plastic straps of the lawn chair  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Phew, this was SUPPOSED to be a shorter chapter but it still ended up being huge. I really need to do these in smaller chunks. Anyway, here's the next chapter after way too long a hiatus. There are some things different about this one, so I would appreciate any feedback. Let me know what you liked or didn't like so I can improve in the future! ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>The Wicked Stepfather: Revisited (Part 1)</title>
                <link>http://maverickthewriter.deviantart.com/art/The-Wicked-Stepfather-Revisited-Part-1-314047638</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://maverickthewriter.deviantart.com/art/The-Wicked-Stepfather-Revisited-Part-1-314047638</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 11 Jul 2012 11:37:30 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">The Wicked Stepfather: Revisited (Part 1)</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Maverickthewriter</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/a/maverickthewriter.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://maverickthewriter.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~Maverickthewriter</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ THE WICKED STEPFATHER: REVISITED<br /><br />FORWARD<br /><br />In the "My Story" section, I discuss my voyage of self-discovery and the late, great feeder.com's influence on it. One of the first stories on feeder.com that impacted me greatly was The Stepfather. It is a brilliant piece of stream-of-conscious writing and one of the most purely erotic--political correctness be damned--pieces of feeder fiction ever written. It contains, among other borderline immoral activities: forced-feeding, incest, verbal and psychological abuse, drug abuse, rape and (it can be argued) murder.<br /><br />If it were a true story, it would be tragic and reprehensible; as a fantasy, however, it appeals to the darker desires of many feeders, feedies and weight-gain enthusiasts.<br /><br />The main problem with the story, despite its carnal brilliance, is its borderline unreadability. The grammar and spelling start out bad, then quickly denigrate into one long run-on sentence, full of misspellings and random thoughts. These errors diminish the rapid-fire energy that the story builds throughout. For years, I thought about working the story into a bit more polished form, and the above is my effort (circa 2003).<br /><br />What originally started as a quick correction of spelling and grammar turned into a full-on rewrite. I have kept the original plot and flow intact, but in addition to grammatical formatting, I have also added many of my own embellishments. I hope these additions maintain the spirit of the original, but add to the overall depth of the piece. Its still a bit rough and youll notice some grammatical errors, but I think it works. <br /><br />I give full credit to the original author (a woman!). Most of the dialogue, plot points and character depth--including the internal struggles of the protagonist--were already in place. I just helped flesh things out a bit (pun intended!).<br /><br />A WARNING:<br /><br />This is a VERY DARK story. If the more disturbing elements of the plot (listed above) are offensive to you, even in fantasy form, then I encourage you not to read it. To be honest, even though I am aroused by many of the more sinister aspects of the story, I dont think I couldve written it from scratch myself. <br /><br />If you like your feeder fiction with a darker edge, then sit back and enjoy. I hope you enjoy revisiting this unique story as much as I did ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Steve watched as his new stepdaughter danced at his wedding.  She was mesmerizing.  As he watched her, she shot him a quick smile from across the room.  Steve returned it, before shyly looking away.  He knew what he was feeling wasn't right; he had just married her mother after all, but she was so beautiful dancing there: Sara had him captivated.<br /><br />                                           ***<br /><br />Sara was only 16 years-old, but was energetic and strong for her age.  She had to be: She was captain of both her High School cheerleading and soccer teams.  In addition to her athletic pursuits, she was also a Dean's List honor student.  She had a lot ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ THE WICKED STEPFATHER: REVISITED<br /><br />FORWARD<br /><br />In the "My Story" section, I discuss my voyage of self-discovery and the late, great feeder.com's influence on it. One of the first stories on feeder.com that impacted me greatly was The Stepfather. It is a brilliant piece of stream-of-conscious writing and one of the most purely erotic--political correctness be damned--pieces of feeder fiction ever written. It contains, among other borderline immoral activities: forced-feeding, incest, verbal and psychological abuse, drug abuse, rape and (it can be argued) murder.<br /><br />If it were a true story, it would be tragic and reprehensible; as a fantasy, however, it appeals to the darker desires of many feeders, feedies and weight-gain enthusiasts.<br /><br />The main problem with the story, despite its carnal brilliance, is its borderline unreadability. The grammar and spelling start out bad, then quickly denigrate into one long run-on sentence, full of misspellings and random thoughts. These errors diminish the rapid-fire energy that the story builds throughout. For years, I thought about working the story into a bit more polished form, and the above is my effort (circa 2003).<br /><br />What originally started as a quick correction of spelling and grammar turned into a full-on rewrite. I have kept the original plot and flow intact, but in addition to grammatical formatting, I have also added many of my own embellishments. I hope these additions maintain the spirit of the original, but add to the overall depth of the piece. Its still a bit rough and youll notice some grammatical errors, but I think it works. <br /><br />I give full credit to the original author (a woman!). Most of the dialogue, plot points and character depth--including the internal struggles of the protagonist--were already in place. I just helped flesh things out a bit (pun intended!).<br /><br />A WARNING:<br /><br />This is a VERY DARK story. If the more disturbing elements of the plot (listed above) are offensive to you, even in fantasy form, then I encourage you not to read it. To be honest, even though I am aroused by many of the more sinister aspects of the story, I dont think I couldve written it from scratch myself. <br /><br />If you like your feeder fiction with a darker edge, then sit back and enjoy. I hope you enjoy revisiting this unique story as much as I did ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Tossed Aside</title>
                <link>http://ravestar15.deviantart.com/art/Tossed-Aside-183874602</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://ravestar15.deviantart.com/art/Tossed-Aside-183874602</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 25 Oct 2010 03:02:24 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Tossed Aside</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">ravestar15</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/a/ravestar15.jpg?2</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://ravestar15.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~ravestar15</media:copyright>             <creativeCommons:license>http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/</creativeCommons:license>
                <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Another little number that came out of nowhere. I suppose this is a fear that every female bisexual has. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[  Mom, Dad&#133;I have something to tell you, something that I've been keeping from you for years.  Please promise me that you'll love me no matter what I say, and that you'll support me to the end.<br /><br />	Mom, Dad&#133;I'm bisexual.  There's a girl at school that I like, and her name is _____.  She's really pretty, with her long dark hair that fills your nostrils with the aroma of strawberries with every swish, and her warm honey-brown eyes.  Mom, you'll like her because she can cook and strike up great conversation; Dad, you'll like her because she's a sports nut and knows how to fix cars.  She ca ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th08.deviantart.net/fs71/300W/i/2010/298/f/c/tossed_aside_by_ravestar15-d31h2ju.jpg" height="392" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th03.deviantart.net/fs71/150/i/2010/298/f/c/tossed_aside_by_ravestar15-d31h2ju.jpg" height="150" width="115"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Another little number that came out of nowhere. I suppose this is a fear that every female bisexual has.<br /><div><img src="http://th03.deviantart.net/fs71/150/i/2010/298/f/c/tossed_aside_by_ravestar15-d31h2ju.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Alice 28</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-28-367425834</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-28-367425834</guid>
                <pubDate>Tue, 23 Apr 2013 13:09:10 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Alice 28</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ This actually isn't what I had planned for the next Chapter of Alice; there's a big long scene with Laurie coming up. Actually, the whole chapter will be very Laurie centric after so many chapters of focus on Jen. But sometimes one is seized by a sudden and inexpliccable urge to write something quick and dirty that's totally unplanned. I've been enamored with the idea of throwing in homages to various weight gain scenes that inspired me when I was younger -- we've already seen bits that reflect the pivotal scenes from European Vacation and Charlotte's Web and there's some good bits that you may recognize coming up -- so this chapter, little more than a vignette, is based on something that you might recognize. I was never a big fan of this particular cartoon because force feeding isn't reeeeally my thing, but somehow I just got a bee in my bonnet about it. So here it is. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ After Valentine&rsquo;s Day, Alice gave up all pretext of restraint.  The growing girl loved to eat and now that she was certain that Tyler liked her plump body, she saw no reason to pretend otherwise. Actually, to say that Alice liked to eat would be an understatement. She was positively addicted to food.  Every waking moment, from the time that she struggled out of bed in the morning with visions of pancakes and waffles in her head to the moment that she drifted off at night to dreams of chocolate ice cream and blueberry pies, Alice was thinking about food.  She could barely go five minutes without a snack these days.  She ate like a pig at ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ This actually isn't what I had planned for the next Chapter of Alice; there's a big long scene with Laurie coming up. Actually, the whole chapter will be very Laurie centric after so many chapters of focus on Jen. But sometimes one is seized by a sudden and inexpliccable urge to write something quick and dirty that's totally unplanned. I've been enamored with the idea of throwing in homages to various weight gain scenes that inspired me when I was younger -- we've already seen bits that reflect the pivotal scenes from European Vacation and Charlotte's Web and there's some good bits that you may recognize coming up -- so this chapter, little more than a vignette, is based on something that you might recognize. I was never a big fan of this particular cartoon because force feeding isn't reeeeally my thing, but somehow I just got a bee in my bonnet about it. So here it is. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Secret Sauce 1</title>
                <link>http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Secret-Sauce-1-297868942</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Secret-Sauce-1-297868942</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 22 Apr 2012 14:05:16 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Secret Sauce 1</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">ravens-son</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/a/ravens-son.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 *ravens-son</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Start of a new series. Updates will come as they come. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ WARNING: This story will contain scenes of overeating and massive amounts of weight gain. If that's not your thing, bow out now.<br /><br />Deerglen was an upscale suburb of Star City, built during the tech-boom of the 90's but with more taste and discretion than the tumors of McMansions that appeared throughout Silicon Valley. A planned community, it was intended to be at one with nature, with the houses colored in Earth tones to blend into the oaks that grew there and the yards front and back spacious and devoid of fences.<br /><br />But for Jill Crowe the houses could have been bright pink with yellow polka-dots, and the yards covered in coals that burned 24/ ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Start of a new series. Updates will come as they come. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Maura Part 1</title>
                <link>http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Maura-Part-1-261236088</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Maura-Part-1-261236088</guid>
                <pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2011 18:27:15 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Maura Part 1</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">ravens-son</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/a/ravens-son.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 *ravens-son</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ OK, a while back Mister <a target="_self" href="http://saxxon.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/a/saxxon.jpg?1" alt=":iconsaxxon:" title="Saxxon"/></a> released a Fat Mix, a collection of unseen art and stories about his usual mega-fat women, mostly unfinished pieces he just hadn't seen fit to post. Among them was a trio of pictures under the title 'Maura,' showing a fat woman bothering her roommate, his explanation that he's building a mind control device (that doesn't seem to be working), her asking for it, him agreeing with a standard 'what can go wrong' and then a cut to a mountain-dwarfing Maura commanding her slaves to feed her everything (while the roommate looks on and says 'Oh').<br /><br />It was a quick and clean story told with just a couple panels, kind of like 'For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.', and I can see why Saxxon just let the idea stop there.<br /><br />I, however, saw more potential in it, and after building a few ideas for a cohesive story I asked for his blessing to write my own take. He said yes and I spent all of Thursday and part of Friday banging out over 13,000 words. I've done a proofread with some slight revisions now, and here it is. Most of it, at least.<br /><br />I had originally intended to make the Invasion of the Body Snatchers theme more prevelant, but as I wrote it my character ended up being too smart, too self-aware of what was happening to make any bad decisions like going to the cops (who turn out to already be converted). This is a problem I run into a lot, my characters intuitively knowing what I know, or thinking over their options too much before taking any action. Usually I have to compensate for this and force them to make bad decisions to keep the drama-level up, but this is just a bit of erotica and I was already ending up with too much plot, not enough weight gain, so I let it slide here.<br /><br />EDIT: Added a picture that Mr. Saxxon was kind enough to draw depicting the first reunion between Ethan and Maura. I love the angle he chose, emphasizing Maura's imposing physique and character and showing things happening in the edges of the picture as well. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ WARNING<br /><br />This story features obscene levels of weight gain. If that's not your thing, just move along. There's plenty of stuff elsewhere on the Internet to appeal to you.<br /><br />I don't really believe telling my story will do any good, not when my only option is to throw it out into the morass of ephemera and would-be memes that is the Internet. Then again, the Internet isn't what it used to be, is it? Maybe I'm just writing this to ease my conscience. I feel like I have a lot to answer for, even if part of me rationalizes that my only fault was one bad decision made in a moment of frustration and little sleep.<br /><br />Let's start at the beginning, becaus ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th02.deviantart.net/fs71/300W/i/2011/278/4/c/maura_part_1_by_ravens_son-d4bj720.png" height="226" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th03.deviantart.net/fs71/150/i/2011/278/4/c/maura_part_1_by_ravens_son-d4bj720.png" height="113" width="150"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ OK, a while back Mister <a target="_self" href="http://saxxon.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/a/saxxon.jpg?1" alt=":iconsaxxon:" title="Saxxon"/></a> released a Fat Mix, a collection of unseen art and stories about his usual mega-fat women, mostly unfinished pieces he just hadn't seen fit to post. Among them was a trio of pictures under the title 'Maura,' showing a fat woman bothering her roommate, his explanation that he's building a mind control device (that doesn't seem to be working), her asking for it, him agreeing with a standard 'what can go wrong' and then a cut to a mountain-dwarfing Maura commanding her slaves to feed her everything (while the roommate looks on and says 'Oh').<br /><br />It was a quick and clean story told with just a couple panels, kind of like 'For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.', and I can see why Saxxon just let the idea stop there.<br /><br />I, however, saw more potential in it, and after building a few ideas for a cohesive story I asked for his blessing to write my own take. He said yes and I spent all of Thursday and part of Friday banging out over 13,000 words. I've done a proofread with some slight revisions now, and here it is. Most of it, at least.<br /><br />I had originally intended to make the Invasion of the Body Snatchers theme more prevelant, but as I wrote it my character ended up being too smart, too self-aware of what was happening to make any bad decisions like going to the cops (who turn out to already be converted). This is a problem I run into a lot, my characters intuitively knowing what I know, or thinking over their options too much before taking any action. Usually I have to compensate for this and force them to make bad decisions to keep the drama-level up, but this is just a bit of erotica and I was already ending up with too much plot, not enough weight gain, so I let it slide here.<br /><br />EDIT: Added a picture that Mr. Saxxon was kind enough to draw depicting the first reunion between Ethan and Maura. I love the angle he chose, emphasizing Maura's imposing physique and character and showing things happening in the edges of the picture as well.<br /><div><img src="http://th03.deviantart.net/fs71/150/i/2011/278/4/c/maura_part_1_by_ravens_son-d4bj720.png" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Alice in Feederland Part 2</title>
                <link>http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Alice-in-Feederland-Part-2-370441405</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Alice-in-Feederland-Part-2-370441405</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 08 May 2013 10:49:43 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Alice in Feederland Part 2</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">ravens-son</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/a/ravens-son.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 *ravens-son</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ And part two, with the requisite tea party scene. I didn't bother naming the Mad Hatter and March Hare because frack it, you all know who they are. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ (Warning: Contains BBW, SSBBW, WG, XWG, overeating and other fat and gluttony related stuff. If that&rsquo;s not your cup of tea (pun intended) then just move on.)<br /><br />Approaching the house, Alice realized she was still quite small compared to whoever must live there.<br /><br />&ldquo;I guess I have no choice.&rdquo; She took another bite of the mushroom, growing taller but not (to her relief) any fatter. She walked up to the door and knocked.<br /><br />&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; An impatient voice cried.<br /><br />Alice opened the door a crack, looking in. A cook was rushing around a kitchen, attempting to prepare several dishes at once. From sink to oven to chopping bloc ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ And part two, with the requisite tea party scene. I didn't bother naming the Mad Hatter and March Hare because frack it, you all know who they are. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Finally a Man Who's Not Afraid to Commit</title>
                <link>http://elroycohen.deviantart.com/art/Finally-a-Man-Who-s-Not-Afraid-to-Commit-329446172</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://elroycohen.deviantart.com/art/Finally-a-Man-Who-s-Not-Afraid-to-Commit-329446172</guid>
                <pubDate>Thu, 27 Sep 2012 08:24:47 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Finally a Man Who's Not Afraid to Commit</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">elroycohen</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/e/l/elroycohen.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://elroycohen.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~elroycohen</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Short one that just kind of tumbled out. <br /><br />As usually their are lifestyle elements that are not for everyone. That being said, this is one of my kinder, gentler stories. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ "You weren't kidding when you said you liked to keep your girls well fed," Sasha said when Luke brought out her second helping of dessert. Even as full as she was the succulent sight of the cold ice cream starting to melt of the warm apple crisp and the delicious smell wafting the air was too much for her to even try and resist.<br /><br />"I truly believe the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach," Luke smiled, giving the small rolls hanging over his girlfriend's belt a nudge.<br /><br />"Yeah, mine at least. I love food sooo much. But now there is more stomach to get through. Dating you has added 30 pounds."<br /><br />"It looks good on you. You need a little ex ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Short one that just kind of tumbled out. <br /><br />As usually their are lifestyle elements that are not for everyone. That being said, this is one of my kinder, gentler stories. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Good Morning Dear...</title>
                <link>http://blugail.deviantart.com/art/Good-Morning-Dear-167590283</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://blugail.deviantart.com/art/Good-Morning-Dear-167590283</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 14 Jun 2010 00:04:42 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Good Morning Dear...</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">BluGail</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/b/l/blugail.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://blugail.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 ~BluGail</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ A fun little story about playing with more bizarre transformation magic. Sexual themes.<br /><br />Shortened title for DevientART, the full title is "Good Morning Dear, Guess what I've turned you into today?" ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Good Morning Dear, Guess what I've turned you into today?<br /><br />Somehow I should have known there would be problems with a wife who earned advanced degrees in both human sexuality and occult studies. It was a common misconception that Gwen's degree was in practicing the occult, whereas if you let her explain it was studying the history of occult and pagan religions. It helped that she didn't project an air of strangeness, she seemed as any academic woman with just a touch of an elitist about her.<br /><br />I'm an architect my specialty is in incorporating historic elements into new designs. We both teach at the same university as instructors (not professor ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ A fun little story about playing with more bizarre transformation magic. Sexual themes.<br /><br />Shortened title for DevientART, the full title is "Good Morning Dear, Guess what I've turned you into today?" ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Alice in Feederland Part 3</title>
                <link>http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Alice-in-Feederland-Part-3-370441681</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Alice-in-Feederland-Part-3-370441681</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 08 May 2013 10:52:17 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Alice in Feederland Part 3</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">ravens-son</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/a/ravens-son.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 *ravens-son</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Final part. I'm sure I could have done a lot more with Alice and the Queen of Hearts, who is always presented as the antagonist in adaptations of this book, but a) I was getting tired of the story by this point and wanted to finish and b) in keeping with the relative illogical of Carroll's work I figured "Why not avoid an actual confrontation and just have things end with no real reason?" ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ (Warning: Contains BBW, SSBBW, WG, XWG, overeating and other fat and gluttony related stuff. If that&rsquo;s not your cup of tea (pun intended) then just move on.)<br /><br />Soon a blur appeared on the horizon, which grew distinct as Alice made more progress. It was a structure of some sort. A house? No, it kept getting bigger. A palace.<br /><br />And a wall in front of it. Black&hellip; no, green. Not a wall, Alice realized. A hedgerow. Connected to the same hedgerow she was walking beside now.<br /><br />There was no gate that Alice could see, no opening. She soon realized she was approaching the castle from the side. Eventually she reached the hedge separating her fr ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Final part. I'm sure I could have done a lot more with Alice and the Queen of Hearts, who is always presented as the antagonist in adaptations of this book, but a) I was getting tired of the story by this point and wanted to finish and b) in keeping with the relative illogical of Carroll's work I figured "Why not avoid an actual confrontation and just have things end with no real reason?" ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Alice 27c</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-27c-350711553</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Alice-27c-350711553</guid>
                <pubDate>Sat, 26 Jan 2013 12:03:00 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Alice 27c</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ And more of Chapter 27. Again, let me know what you like and what you don't! I always like hearing what people want to see more of. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ In the safety of the bathroom, Laurie examined herself in the mirror. The short walk had left her entirely disheveled.  Her perfect hair was messed, her cheeks were flushed and her mascara was running with her sweat. <br />            &ldquo;Jen, guard the door,&rdquo; she said as her bottom-heavy friend shuffled inside.  Jen nodded and posted herself at the door, leaning her bulk against it.  If any other woman had needed to use the bathroom, they would have found the door mysteriously jammed.  Little would they know that the real reason that the door wouldn&rsquo;t open is that there were several acres of booty blubber pressing against it from t ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ And more of Chapter 27. Again, let me know what you like and what you don't! I always like hearing what people want to see more of. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Overindulged</title>
                <link>http://thejackalpb.deviantart.com/art/Overindulged-295872875</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://thejackalpb.deviantart.com/art/Overindulged-295872875</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 13 Apr 2012 14:10:49 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Overindulged</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">thejackalpb</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/t/h/thejackalpb.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://thejackalpb.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~thejackalpb</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Enjoy. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[      It was summer, and a mildy chilly night was coming to its end. A young girl, hidden within her humble apartment, was indulging in the treasures she had summoned from her own kitchen . She quickly became a slave to her own stomach, pandering to its needs and massaging it whenever it stirred.  Although already thick, curved and well-filled it remained ever-so demanding, and whenever she wasn't stuffing her face with food she could feel it crying out for more. One luscious treat was soon followed by the next, and as time progressed she found herself taking more pleasure from the feelings within her belly t ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Enjoy. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Fattened Belly</title>
                <link>http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com/art/Fattened-Belly-292873074</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com/art/Fattened-Belly-292873074</guid>
                <pubDate>Wed, 28 Mar 2012 19:59:01 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Fattened Belly</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">Forcedlactationlover</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/f/o/forcedlactationlover.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://forcedlactationlover.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 *Forcedlactationlover</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Part III of Fat Belly<br /><br />Mature.<br /><br />In response to one specific, and some general, requests, Louise goes on a diet, just not quite the diet she expects. The results please her lover, and both of them, to the ....<br /><br />The asterisk displays another look at Louise's future. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[     They had enjoyed the last few weeks together, but Louise's question remained unanswered. She was enjoying working more from home, but had overlooked one major side effect. With snacks more freely and easily available, her rate of weight gain had increased to nearly match the overfeedings she had experienced that fateful weekend. He had both aided her with her work, and with her 'diet'. She was gaining at over 2000 Kcal per day, and her figure reflected that fact all too well.<br />    More than 20 extra pounds were spread over her body, as were the effects of little to no exercize. Her soft, now flabby, and still fattening belly was approachin ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Part III of Fat Belly<br /><br />Mature.<br /><br />In response to one specific, and some general, requests, Louise goes on a diet, just not quite the diet she expects. The results please her lover, and both of them, to the ....<br /><br />The asterisk displays another look at Louise's future. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Lingerie</title>
                <link>http://wilsonb.deviantart.com/art/Lingerie-208951700</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://wilsonb.deviantart.com/art/Lingerie-208951700</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 15 May 2011 09:58:58 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Lingerie</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">WilsonB</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/w/i/wilsonb.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://wilsonb.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~WilsonB</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Yet another story originally written as a breast expansion tale, but revised to meet the FA audience of BUF. Unlike Witchery <a href="http://wilsonb.deviantart.com/gallery/30112804#/d3fuyyz">[link]</a> this version worked, I think, so Im posting the fat version here. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Lingerie <br />by Wilson Barbers<br /><br />Myra found the garments in the bottom of her laundry basket, though she had no idea how they'd gotten there. She was unpacking the weekend laundry in her bedroom, and there they were, intertwined with the rest of her undies. A bra and panties, both more than twice the size of her own undergarments. Where'd they come from? she wondered, fingering the lacy black brassiere.<br /><br />A pretty-faced woman in her twenties, Myra was slim-bodied and quiet, the kind of girl most men had trouble noticing. She worked as a receptionist on weekdays (possessing the kind of softly direct voice that went well over the phone) and spent h ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Yet another story originally written as a breast expansion tale, but revised to meet the FA audience of BUF. Unlike Witchery <a href="http://wilsonb.deviantart.com/gallery/30112804#/d3fuyyz">[link]</a> this version worked, I think, so Im posting the fat version here. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Breeders Dorm Part 1</title>
                <link>http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Breeders-Dorm-Part-1-348224743</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Breeders-Dorm-Part-1-348224743</guid>
                <pubDate>Sat, 12 Jan 2013 20:42:05 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Breeders Dorm Part 1</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">ravens-son</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/r/a/ravens-son.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com">Copyright 2013 *ravens-son</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Introducing our heroine, establishing the hedonistic life of the Breeders Dorm, and going through Gilda's first pregnancy.<br /><br />I don't remember when I came up with the 'end game' for this story, hinted at in the final scene with the Shifter Overseer, but it would have been early on in writing this. I'll go into more detail later.<br /><br />Prologue: <a href="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Breeders-Dorm-Prologue-348224231?ga_submit=10%3A1358053282&ga_type=edit&ga_recent=1">[link]</a><br />Part 2: <a href="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Breeders-Dorm-Part-2-348226417?q=gallery%3Aravens-son&qo=1">[link]</a> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Hundreds of years later:<br /><br />Gilda woke up with a mix of eagerness and anxiety. Today was the day. She had reached the Age of Maturity. Other girls in her clutch had been maturing and leaving the dorms for almost a month now, and as her birthday approached Gilda had been getting more and more excited.<br /><br />The brunette teen was out of bed and in the shower even before her alarm went off, and when she arrived at the cafeteria there were barely a handful of others (and they were all students). All younger than Gilda, they were receiving their lessons about prenatal care and what they could expect when they became surrogates.<br /><br />Gilda had finished her le ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Introducing our heroine, establishing the hedonistic life of the Breeders Dorm, and going through Gilda's first pregnancy.<br /><br />I don't remember when I came up with the 'end game' for this story, hinted at in the final scene with the Shifter Overseer, but it would have been early on in writing this. I'll go into more detail later.<br /><br />Prologue: <a href="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Breeders-Dorm-Prologue-348224231?ga_submit=10%3A1358053282&ga_type=edit&ga_recent=1">[link]</a><br />Part 2: <a href="http://ravens-son.deviantart.com/art/Breeders-Dorm-Part-2-348226417?q=gallery%3Aravens-son&qo=1">[link]</a> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Frog Reapers 1: Scouting</title>
                <link>http://slivermaster25.deviantart.com/art/Frog-Reapers-1-Scouting-289422479</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://slivermaster25.deviantart.com/art/Frog-Reapers-1-Scouting-289422479</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 09 Mar 2012 11:54:59 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Frog Reapers 1: Scouting</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">slivermaster25</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/default.gif</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://slivermaster25.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~slivermaster25</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ If you don't like this type of deviation, send me a message and we can have a pleasant discussion about it. Constructive comments are requested and may determine if I write more in the future.<br /><br />This is just a short story I wrote to go along with the awesome image (<a href="http://fav.me/d4fhvfk">[link]</a>) <a target="_self" href="http://elek-tronikz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/e/l/elek-tronikz.gif?7" alt=":iconelek-tronikz:" title="elek-tronikz"/></a> drew and I won in a contest for <a target="_self" href="http://an-unexpected-group.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/n/an-unexpected-group.png?1" alt=":iconan-unexpected-group:" title="An-Unexpected-Group"/></a>. If you didn't read it, it's a transformation story. Yes, there is nudity. No, there isn't sex. The story is rated Adult because of the nudity even though it's harmless.<br /><br />Characters are copyright their respective owners.<br /><br />If I win/commission/other-people-commission followup images, I'll write followup stories. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ 'This is becoming troublesome,' Rukia thought to herself as she ran through the swamp.  A few days earlier, the Soul Society had received a report of people going missing in one of the lower districts.  Naturally, a low-ranking squad had been sent out to investigate in the event a Hollow was responsible.  Orihime Inoue had been visiting and elected to accompany the squad in order to provide medical support.  The squad had departed two days ago and no one had heard a word from the group since then.<br /><br />Worrying for her friend, Rukia had volunteered to go investigate before Ichigo or the captains became involved.  Matsumoto Rangiku had decided she ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th08.deviantart.net/fs70/300W/i/2012/069/4/9/frog_reapers_1__scouting_by_slivermaster25-d4sbbtb.jpg" height="178" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th05.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/069/4/9/frog_reapers_1__scouting_by_slivermaster25-d4sbbtb.jpg" height="89" width="150"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ If you don't like this type of deviation, send me a message and we can have a pleasant discussion about it. Constructive comments are requested and may determine if I write more in the future.<br /><br />This is just a short story I wrote to go along with the awesome image (<a href="http://fav.me/d4fhvfk">[link]</a>) <a target="_self" href="http://elek-tronikz.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/e/l/elek-tronikz.gif?7" alt=":iconelek-tronikz:" title="elek-tronikz"/></a> drew and I won in a contest for <a target="_self" href="http://an-unexpected-group.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/n/an-unexpected-group.png?1" alt=":iconan-unexpected-group:" title="An-Unexpected-Group"/></a>. If you didn't read it, it's a transformation story. Yes, there is nudity. No, there isn't sex. The story is rated Adult because of the nudity even though it's harmless.<br /><br />Characters are copyright their respective owners.<br /><br />If I win/commission/other-people-commission followup images, I'll write followup stories.<br /><div><img src="http://th05.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/069/4/9/frog_reapers_1__scouting_by_slivermaster25-d4sbbtb.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Birth on webcam (Mpreg, NSFW)</title>
                <link>http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/Birth-on-webcam-Mpreg-NSFW-344383869</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/Birth-on-webcam-Mpreg-NSFW-344383869</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 23 Dec 2012 13:59:37 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Birth on webcam (Mpreg, NSFW)</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">aes567</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/e/aes567.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://aes567.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~aes567</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ A massively pregnant male stripper gives his fans a unique show, something they wont forget<br />This is actually a rp I had some time ago with Lachian Reveler: he agreed about me posting it here. The story was on the old forum, but I haven't posted it here up to now. Sorry for any mistake and for the rushed end<br /><br />WARNING: NC-17, graphic description of birth, strong language! ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Tony settled slowly into his reclining chair, smirking as he rubbed his shirt-clad globe of a belly. "Hey everyone - well, surprised to see me? This is D+5 by now, so... you're all getting your money's worth." He chuckled.<br /><br />-hi sexxxy!!! oh god you look stunning, never seen such a hot and huge guy!!<br /><br />-are you having a whole football team?!?<br /><br />He chuckled, watching the questions stream by. "Nah, it's not a whole team - just half of one!"<br /><br />-ouch!! just FOUR?!?<br /><br />"Uh huh!" He grinned, slowly peeling the shirt up.<br /><br />-OOOH YESSS bare it all Tony, let us see all your hunk's belly!!!<br /><br />"you're gonna love this..." He revealed the full, oiled sphere, fill ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ A massively pregnant male stripper gives his fans a unique show, something they wont forget<br />This is actually a rp I had some time ago with Lachian Reveler: he agreed about me posting it here. The story was on the old forum, but I haven't posted it here up to now. Sorry for any mistake and for the rushed end<br /><br />WARNING: NC-17, graphic description of birth, strong language! ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>The champion gives birth</title>
                <link>http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/The-champion-gives-birth-260343896</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/The-champion-gives-birth-260343896</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 26 Sep 2011 11:08:46 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">The champion gives birth</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">aes567</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/e/aes567.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://aes567.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~aes567</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Cristiano Ronaldo gives birth... ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ The Champion Gives Birth<br /><br />This is my first complete story. Here is Cristiano Ronaldo giving birth&#133; I've written it without considering both that he actually has another baby and that he's engaged (if I'm not wrong). Be warned: NOT SAFE FOR WORK AND FOR MINORS, because of explicit content and language&#133;with some changes at the end!<br /><br />February 1st, 2011<br />(from a press release)<br />CRISTIANO RONALDO IS PREGNANT &#150; the Portuguese champion has admitted being pregnant, after some naked photos of him in the locker room, showing an undeniably inflated stomach, have been published on the net. "I was having sex with a woman and the condom brok ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Cristiano Ronaldo gives birth... ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Bethany</title>
                <link>http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Bethany-338589708</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://mcoddles.deviantart.com/art/Bethany-338589708</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2012 07:39:52 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Bethany</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">mcoddles</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/m/c/mcoddles.jpg</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://mcoddles.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~mcoddles</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Just a short vignette I found abandoned on my computer. This was an attempt at writing something a little different. The result is a bit... cloying. So be warned! Though I'd be curious to hear what people think of it. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Bethany was the girliest girl that you'd ever meet.  Her strawberry blond hair always smelled sweetly of cinnamon and spice, her chubby dimpled cheeks were always rosy with blush and her moist little lips were always frosted with pastel pink lipstick.   A little round diva that loved shopping, shoes and sugar, she was used to be being pampered like a big fluffy kitty. Her parents made sure that she never had to dirty her hands growing up, so she was a bit soft ball of fluff by the time she met her husband-to-be.  They fell in love immediately, and knew they would never be apart.  He knew that he would always want to be around to protect this  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Just a short vignette I found abandoned on my computer. This was an attempt at writing something a little different. The result is a bit... cloying. So be warned! Though I'd be curious to hear what people think of it. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>Getting Hormonal</title>
                <link>http://elroycohen.deviantart.com/art/Getting-Hormonal-325832851</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://elroycohen.deviantart.com/art/Getting-Hormonal-325832851</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 07 Sep 2012 07:52:51 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">Getting Hormonal</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">elroycohen</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/e/l/elroycohen.jpg?1</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://elroycohen.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~elroycohen</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Written as kind of a trade I guess this one focuses a on pregnancy, but there is plenty of WG as well. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Allen watched with restrained Glee as Glenda gobbled her third Belgium waffle smothered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce. When she was done he laid a platter full of cookies in front of her.<br /><br />"Can't forget dessert. With you eating for two and all." He tried to keep a straight face, but when Glenda couldn't even wait to reply before taking a bite of gooey goodness he snickered audibly.<br /><br />"You are so evil," she whined. "You're tuned into my craving so well it's like you have me on remote control." She paused to gobble up a few more cookies. "At this rate I'll be too big to fit into our Tercel when you have to get me to the hospital."<br /><br />Allen  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Written as kind of a trade I guess this one focuses a on pregnancy, but there is plenty of WG as well. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>An Hour of Daydream</title>
                <link>http://invizking.deviantart.com/art/An-Hour-of-Daydream-293073710</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://invizking.deviantart.com/art/An-Hour-of-Daydream-293073710</guid>
                <pubDate>Fri, 30 Mar 2012 03:35:33 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">An Hour of Daydream</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">InvizKing</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/i/n/invizking.gif</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://invizking.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~InvizKing</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ I challenged myself to write as much as I could within an hour, so here is the result. It's a light bit of fluff depicting a not-so-light bit of fluff that may or may not be heavily inspired by ~<a class="u" href="http://invizqueen.deviantart.com">InvizQueen</a>.<br /><br />I hope that this hour frozen in time is found to be enjoyable. ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[  An Hour of Daydream<br /><br />Floorboards moan under her weight.  A button did not exist that was not unfastened by her belly.  No brassiere resting in her armoire is fully intact.  Her thighs demolish through jeans as a wrecking ball through a condemned tenement.  Panties snap at her hips, rip at her crotch, and tear at her backside.<br /><br />These statements all sum up to one immutable fact: she is fat.<br /><br />And getting fatter.<br /><br />Breakfasts, brunches, lunches, dinners, suppers, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh helpings &#150; these are the means to her end, day in and day out.  With reckless relish, she eats her we ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ I challenged myself to write as much as I could within an hour, so here is the result. It's a light bit of fluff depicting a not-so-light bit of fluff that may or may not be heavily inspired by ~<a class="u" href="http://invizqueen.deviantart.com">InvizQueen</a>.<br /><br />I hope that this hour frozen in time is found to be enjoyable. ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>The plan -Chapter 1</title>
                <link>http://sandybelldf.deviantart.com/art/The-plan-Chapter-1-183093417</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://sandybelldf.deviantart.com/art/The-plan-Chapter-1-183093417</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 18 Oct 2010 08:00:27 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">The plan -Chapter 1</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">sandybelldf</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/a/sandybelldf.png?4</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://sandybelldf.deviantart.com">Copyright 2010-2013 *sandybelldf</media:copyright>             <creativeCommons:license>http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/</creativeCommons:license>
                <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Pueden visitar "El plan" en español aqui -&gt; <a href="http://gargamuza2006.deviantart.com/art/El-Plan-Capitulo-01-183085809">[link]</a><br /><br />This history is a colaboration between <a href="http://gargamuza2006.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/g/a/gargamuza2006.jpg?1" alt=":icongargamuza2006:" title="gargamuza2006"/></a> and me, originally it was started as a little description for the image, but it evolved in a story that we divided on chapters, we worked together to shape and shine it, but the credit is more for <a href="http://gargamuza2006.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/g/a/gargamuza2006.jpg?1" alt=":icongargamuza2006:" title="gargamuza2006"/></a> than for me ^_ ^<br /><br />The art as you can see is my creation but the concept history is a team work, we used concepts such as the infamous GB cookies that you surely know about (if you are watcher of my site of course)<br /><br />The story is divided in some chapters (I don´t say how much) and will be uploaded every monday (1 chapter)<br /><br />Next chapter -&gt; <a href="http://sandybelldf.deviantart.com/art/The-plan-Chapter-2-183890565">[link]</a> ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ John Brisbaine was a low budget detective. His main jobs were spying infidel husbands, hired by their jealous wives.<br /><br />He was just about to finish one of his last jobs in which he had done a research for the wife of an important stock broker; she suspected that her husband was a regular participant of sexual orgies.<br /><br />"Who's there?" &#150; He heard by the entry phone to a quite young female voice.<br />"John Brisbaine." He said<br />"Come in." said the voice on the other side<br /><br />The door of the fastuous mansion was opened and a woman in her thirties, older than what her voice made him guess, but with a very peculiar beauty.<br />Until then the contact with h ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th09.deviantart.net/fs71/300W/i/2010/291/9/d/the_plan__chapter_1_by_sandybelldf-d310bs9.jpg" height="273" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th06.deviantart.net/fs71/150/i/2010/291/9/d/the_plan__chapter_1_by_sandybelldf-d310bs9.jpg" height="137" width="150"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Pueden visitar "El plan" en español aqui -&gt; <a href="http://gargamuza2006.deviantart.com/art/El-Plan-Capitulo-01-183085809">[link]</a><br /><br />This history is a colaboration between <a href="http://gargamuza2006.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/g/a/gargamuza2006.jpg?1" alt=":icongargamuza2006:" title="gargamuza2006"/></a> and me, originally it was started as a little description for the image, but it evolved in a story that we divided on chapters, we worked together to shape and shine it, but the credit is more for <a href="http://gargamuza2006.deviantart.com/"><img class="avatar" src="http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/g/a/gargamuza2006.jpg?1" alt=":icongargamuza2006:" title="gargamuza2006"/></a> than for me ^_ ^<br /><br />The art as you can see is my creation but the concept history is a team work, we used concepts such as the infamous GB cookies that you surely know about (if you are watcher of my site of course)<br /><br />The story is divided in some chapters (I don´t say how much) and will be uploaded every monday (1 chapter)<br /><br />Next chapter -&gt; <a href="http://sandybelldf.deviantart.com/art/The-plan-Chapter-2-183890565">[link]</a><br /><div><img src="http://th06.deviantart.net/fs71/150/i/2010/291/9/d/the_plan__chapter_1_by_sandybelldf-d310bs9.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>The construction worker-pt. 1</title>
                <link>http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/The-construction-worker-pt-1-204346273</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://aes567.deviantart.com/art/The-construction-worker-pt-1-204346273</guid>
                <pubDate>Sun, 10 Apr 2011 08:43:51 PDT</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">The construction worker-pt. 1</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>adult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">aes567</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/a/e/aes567.jpg?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://aes567.deviantart.com">Copyright 2011-2013 ~aes567</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ It was a boring, hot summer evening. I lay half-asleep on my sofa, when the doorbell rang. I expected it to be my neighbour, coming to return me the drill I had lent him, so neither I asked whos that and opened the door. Ill never forget the amazing scene I saw: standing in front of me there was a young man...well, actually he looked like some sort of giant come from another planet: he stood at some 6 7, impressively built and, above all, he had a fucking gigantic dome of a belly. No doubt he was heavily pregnant: maybe with some alien baby, because I had never seen something so absurdly large, neither in the book of world records: the thing jutting from his torso was about two times and half the size of an ordinary full-term male belly! ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ The construction worker gives birth &#150; part 1<br /><br />This is the first short story all written by me. English is not my mother tongue, as you'll maybe notice, so I had to cut on many particulars and descriptions. Neither could I use many slang words, that could have fitted the situation. Anyway, I hope it to be an original mpreg work, because I can't remember anything similar.<br />Before reading, please note some preliminary remarks: in "my world", men can get themselves pregnant just by penetrating themselves...or rather, just the well-endowed ones can. Don't ask me how: maybe their penises, even if enlarged while erected, remain flexible :) the  ]]></media:text>            
            <description><![CDATA[ It was a boring, hot summer evening. I lay half-asleep on my sofa, when the doorbell rang. I expected it to be my neighbour, coming to return me the drill I had lent him, so neither I asked whos that and opened the door. Ill never forget the amazing scene I saw: standing in front of me there was a young man...well, actually he looked like some sort of giant come from another planet: he stood at some 6 7, impressively built and, above all, he had a fucking gigantic dome of a belly. No doubt he was heavily pregnant: maybe with some alien baby, because I had never seen something so absurdly large, neither in the book of world records: the thing jutting from his torso was about two times and half the size of an ordinary full-term male belly! ]]></description>            </item>
            <item>
                <title>What does it take to break? 2</title>
                <link>http://countesspruben.deviantart.com/art/What-does-it-take-to-break-2-338638659</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://countesspruben.deviantart.com/art/What-does-it-take-to-break-2-338638659</guid>
                <pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2012 13:14:58 PST</pubDate>
                        <media:title type="plain">What does it take to break? 2</media:title>
        <media:keywords></media:keywords>
                        <media:rating>nonadult</media:rating>
                <media:category label="Short Stories">literature/prose/fiction/transgressive/shortstory</media:category>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">CountessPruben</media:credit>
        <media:credit role="author" scheme="urn:ebu">http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/c/o/countesspruben.png?3</media:credit> 
        <media:copyright url="http://countesspruben.deviantart.com">Copyright 2012-2013 ~CountessPruben</media:copyright>            <media:description type="html"><![CDATA[ Part 2! And how close the snapping is <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/smile.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":)" title=":) (Smile)"/> lol PruCan! ]]></media:description>        
        <media:text type="html"><![CDATA[ Today is the day of the World Conference. I'm sitting where I always sit, next to Ivan, and Francis. Francis is busy talking to Arthur who keeps shooting weird little, hate filled glances at me. This is normal. I sigh and people look around as though a ghost had made that noise. Once again, this is completely normal.<br /><br />Suddenly a large warm hand is on my thigh, I look to my side alarmed and see Ivan smiling down at me with that creepy purple aura around him. He slowly slides his hand higher and higher. I try desperately to push him away until I hear that "kolkolkol". Immediately I stop trying to push him away, knowing better then to let him ma ]]></media:text>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th03.deviantart.net/fs70/300W/i/2012/324/b/5/what_does_it_take_to_break__2_by_countesspruben-d5lm79f.jpg" height="375" width="300"/>            <media:thumbnail url="http://th02.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/324/b/5/what_does_it_take_to_break__2_by_countesspruben-d5lm79f.jpg" height="150" width="120"/>            
            <description><![CDATA[ Part 2! And how close the snapping is <img src="http://e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/smile.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=":)" title=":) (Smile)"/> lol PruCan!<br /><div><img src="http://th02.deviantart.net/fs70/150/i/2012/324/b/5/what_does_it_take_to_break__2_by_countesspruben-d5lm79f.jpg" alt="thumbnail" /></div> ]]></description>            </item>
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