Last Night

Zoe and I were old school friends. Sweethearts, I guess you could say, but I’d never really thought of us like that. We’d got to know each other really well through our teenage years. At university we’d shared a flat and had become somewhat more than friends: lovers perhaps, certainly intimate. After university, though, we’d drifted apart as our careers took us to different parts of the country. She had moved north to the big city to take on a high-flying role, I had moved south to indulge my love of computers. We talked regularly and met up now and again for weekends away. Read More »


Bed and Breakfast and Bondage

This is a first draft of this story. I’ve got the main ideas down, but I realise it’s not much more than a sketch. That said, enjoy.

A distant, but approaching drawn out crunching sound heralded the arrival of more guests up the long, gravel drive. I clicked the power-button on my computers monitor to turn it off and began making my way downstairs.

The house was a little annoying to get anywhere quickly in. It was a tall, gothic pile – dark grey welsh limestone topped with slate towers. In all there were five bedrooms, but there were almost as many staircases and making ones way around the house invariably involved a trip via the ground-floor entrance hall. I descended the stairs as quickly as my scarlet high-heels and pencil skirt would allow me. Part of me wished that sensible, sturdy carpet runners would look anywhere near as fitting as the polished wood treads.

I arrived in the entrance way just as the heavy wooden front door swung open and my guests stepped in. Read More »

Real Friends

My friend Amalasuntha sent me a writing challenge the other day: 500 words – no more, no less – with a given starting line. As I’ve not done much writing for a while, and because I’m terrible at endings, I took this challenge on. See what you think of the results. Read More »

Layleaux Rail

This is basically a write up of a dream I had last night, in particular Foyce’s outfit and her job of being a Trolley Dolly.

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I was a young man when I first saw the Phoenix.Yes, the Phoenix, that mythical bird from antiquity. Now, don’t misunderstand me. I’m not talking the Firebird – the beautiful bird whose wings literally are fire, whose beak is a sparkling ember. Nor am I talking about the Thunderbird – the stunning avian whose wings are so vast they stir up storm clouds and elicit peals of thunder from the sky. No, the Phoenix is, to most people just Read More »


This was written as a response to Phoenix‘s challenge to write a story beginning with the following line: My names Tabitha, I work part time at Mrs Clucky’s chicken outlet and before we start I’d just like to say that it wasn’t really my fault.

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The Cerberus

All characters and situations are fictional. Any similarity to persons (or furs) living,
dead or otherwise or to events past, present, future or in potentia is coincidental and
All original material ©Paul Saunders 2001.

A Crew that was never born. A spacecraft that was never built. An Organization that does not exist. That’s the official line, but this is no secret government agency. As some of the finest operatives of the most organized criminal syndicate, the crew of the Cerberus always remain several steps ahead of the law agencies…
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Ode to a WinterWolf

Here's a little poem that I wrote for Darkhorse.
It doesn't quite rhyme and it doesn't quite scan,
But I'm not quite a poet, I do the best I can.
He knows I love him and he loves me, of course!

About Darkhorse there's many things I adore.
I could give you a plethora, but I'd just be a bore.
Instead I shall list
just a few of the best,
maybe one day I'll write more.

I love his personality, we have so much in common;
He's witty, intelligent, and a wiz with computers.
He's kind and he's caring and he's addicted to driving.

And not only this, he's a Fur as well.
A Wolf of the Arctic kind with thick white-gray fur,
perfect for snuggling with on long winter nights.
He's equally happy on two legs or four.

As for his body, I shan't say much,
although it's something I can't wait to touch.
He's slim and he's toned and really quite sexy,
but if I say any more he'll only get ... embarassed.

I'll cease my rambling now, for I'm stretching my welcome.
I warned you it wouldn't be pretty.
But as I said before I'm not a poet,
but who needs rhymes 'cos I've got a WinterWolf.

The Birds and the Bees, the Flowers and the Trees

This story contains explicit sexual material and should not be read by minors.

Written as a bit of a challenge from a Livejournal post, this story shows where the phrase “The Birds and the Bees” came from. This story contains graphic, if unusual, sex scenes.

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Carla is a typical fifteen-year-old. Popular on the internet, but bored at home. However, Carla is different in that she’s a true hermaphrodite. So when she goes online, she’s not short of offers…

This story contains explicit sexual material and should not be read by minors. Read More »