The Human Trial [M38F25] [noncon] [breeding]

“Those fucking bastards!”

“…”

“I can’t believe it. Really. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“…”

I shake my head and crumple the letter in my hand before throwing it on the ground. “They lied to us. They lied to my face!”

Mai Lin says nothing. She bends down to pick up the letter, uncrumples it and begins to read.

I lower myself into a chair and put my head in my hands. I have to rub my fingers on my temples to keep the walls of despair from closing in around me. I look around. The laboratory is still humming as if our world, my life didn’t just end. I rub a hand down my face as I begin to calculate everything I’ll lose when the university finds out we didn’t get approval for human testing. My job, my reputation, my laboratory, my work. I look to Mai Lin. My assistant.

She’s been a perfect assistant for the past two years of her grad program. A hard worker, diligent, and attentive.

In a flash of horror, I realize what this might mean for her. This is her research too. Her thesis is about our treatment for high blood pressure. What could she do? Would she lose her student visa as well?

An Overstayed Welcome [M43F19] [brat] [DDlg]

Rick blinked. He rubbed his face and looked around. The TV was the only light source in the living room. Netflix was asking him if he was still watching. He’d fallen asleep on the couch again. Sitting up, he scratched the graying hair on his bare chest.

Outside, it was raining, pouring even. The only noise in his house was the patter against the screen door to the backyard.

Rick-

The doorbell rang.

The noise startled him, sending him through confusion which immediately rolled into surprise and anger. Who in their right mind would be ringing his doorbell at…he realized he had no idea what time it was.

Grunting, he pushed the blanket off him, exposing his boxers as the only thing covering him, besides his socks. The air was cold in his home and he winced at it. He-

The doorbell rang again.

He grimaced and grunted as he hoisted himself up, clenched his fists, and marched to his front door. Whoever it was, was going to get-

He unlocked and threw open the door.

…It was Holly, though that wasn’t immediately apparent. Rick hadn’t seen her in…a year? Two? She’d gone off to college just like his daughter, but in the meantime she- well, she-

A Dull Week at the Fertility Clinic [M42F28] [free use] [bimbo] [sequel]

Dr. Schrader yawned. He put his book down, an aging spy thriller with female characters as nuanced as bricks. He sighed and looked around his office.

It had been a slow day. It had been a slow week too. Two women he’d already impregnated had come in for checkups. Two others had canceled at the last minute.

He heaved air into his lungs, then stood, unfolding his long stature. He took his travel mug of green tea from his desk and sipped it as he walked down the hall towards the front desk. He whistled a bit. Some nonsense tune.

In the office, Lilian sat on her desk chair.

“Lil-…”

There was no response.

Dr. Schrader heard a snore come from her.

“Lil. Lilian.”

There was no response.

“LILIAN.”

She jumped awake, looking around to find him staring at her. She blushed. “Hi, doc.”

“Any calls?”

She looked at the phone on the desk across from her. “Nope,” she said.

A Haunting at the Sorority House [M200F21] [noncon] [sleep play] [ghost]

Frederick was dead, had been dead for so, so very long. He lived, no, he existed now inbetween. The world, his world, was a cold, static place. His form was intangible, he could move through walls, through anything if he chose to do so. Touching things was harder. He could do it, if he tried, if he focused, if he was angry. This half-life he occupied was…boring. Not much aroused his anger, besides the people who attempted to lay claim to his home.

It was a sprawling thing, well made, built to last, rising up four stories to tower over the nearby trees and descending deep into two dank and musty basements. In life, he had lived and died there. In death, he knew every corner of it. Once every decade or so some family would buy his home. None had lasted a month. Oh, it would always take time for his rage to allow him to…affect things, but once their dishware was shattering and their cheap drapes from someplace called ‘target’ were torn to shreds, they’d run. They had always run.

The New Fertility Clinic [M42F25] [noncon] [breeding]

Dr. Schrader hums a little tune as he gets out of his car. He grabs his travel mug of green tea and his briefcase as he steps into the warm, morning air of July. He unfolds as he stands, rising to his slightly stooped 6’4″. He’s lanky, his dress shirt and slacks custom-made for his long, almost slender form. Close-cut graying hair shows his age in the early 40s, rising to a widow’s peak over what might have been a stern face if not for the smile lines against his eyes. He has a few days of stubble on his chin, enough to give him the satisfaction of a good face rub.

His clinic is a one-story building on one of the lesser-used roads outside of town. The parking lot is surrounded by forest. The adjacent lot across the road is vacant. A few birds can be heard singing. It is a private place, the notion of which still relaxes Schrader as he takes it in.

There’re two other cars in the lot. One which Dr. S recognizes, the other he doesn’t. At the thought of a new patient, he smiles and some tension within him eases. He breathes deeply. It was going to be another perfect day at his practice.