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PostPosted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 2:51 am 
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Drawn in my sketchbook by the artist known as Slug. I do believe the goat is her character called Muckle.
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http://www.furaffinity.net/user/slug/


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PostPosted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 6:45 pm 
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What will the boar do to the goat?

*Waits and watches*

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PostPosted: Thu Jul 14, 2011 6:13 am 
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neandernitz wrote:
What will the boar do to the goat?

*Waits and watches*

Probably the easier question is, "What won't he do". :twisted:

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PostPosted: Fri Jul 15, 2011 9:16 pm 
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Ramseys wrote:
Probably the easier question is, "What won't he do". :twisted:


Mmm-- So many choices, so little time.



The Boar is uncharacteristically cleft-toed, it seems..........

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PostPosted: Fri Aug 26, 2011 9:17 am 
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Why did I leave? It isn't safe! That voice in her head kept screaming at her, drowning out her panicked thoughts leaving only the terror driven instincts in charge of her body, as she crashed heedlessly through the woods. Her legs burned and not even the adrenaline surge in her blood could keep the muscles from losing strength. Her ragged, gulping breaths brought only lancing pain as the chill night air rapidly passed over the moist, tender flesh of her lungs. It were as if mind and body were fighting each other, the brain crying at the body to move to survive but the body was shutting down unable to understand that the bogeyman was behind her. Why did I leave?

"You should get out and live your life, socialize, make friends." People always said that so glibbly. It was always so easy for others but not for her. No one had really understood her desire to be alone. Desire? No, it was just easier to be alone. "Honey, why don't you go play with your friends? It's a beautiful day and you should be out there instead of your room," they said. Her parents made such a big deal of getting out that she did, moving out to a place of her own away from them. Why did I leave?

But she could not live on her own, need still pressed her with real desires that could not be ignored. A place to stay required money so she went out to work. Food was outside her door so she had to regularly go to the market. Her money did not cover everything so she had to let them in, her roommates whose combined efforts kept the bills paid. At least her room was hers and with that door shut all of her needs were taken care of. She could eat when she hungered, drink when she thirsted, bathe when she felt unclean, and even connect to the internet when she wanted stimulation. Yes, all her needs were taken care of when she closed the door. No! No, there was still one more and it could not be had inside that room. She could deny it all she wanted but she still opened up her door and went out. Why did I leave?

"C'mon, it'll be a blast," enthused her roommates. They said they'd introduce her to their friends. A big party! Free booze and loud music and all night dancing with real people. Even with her limited social interactions her mind picked out the code for a good rut. Memories of the awkward encounters from her youth reminded her of the messy, gross, wet, and painful moments of sweating, heaving, and grunting that were embarrassing and awful but inexplicably filled her with a longing, a wanting, a needing for more. The voice that had kept her inside, kept her safe, could not be heard as she went out the door with her roommates. Why did I leave?

Her roommates' friends were just that, her roomates' friends. They were obliged to talk with her but she was an outsider to their conversations, their jokes, their friendship. The music of the party thundered and her lust withered and cowered from control. The kind of person she had been attracted and lost her virginity to when she was younger, shy and quiet and alone, was not someone who came to a big party. The revelers all seemed to talk in a secret language, their movements complimentary, as if they were one herd banded together against predators, but she was separated and vulnerable amongst the throng. Eyes watched her and she could see shapes moving through the dancers. Barking laughter pierced through the blaring beat and when her eyes met the source, locking gazes with her roommates and their friends, the entire group started laughing. It isn't safe! The ringing in her ears was her inner voice suddenly recognizable. There was no sanctuary, no protection, no place to hide in the musical mad house she had been brought to by her betraying roommates and her contemptible lust. She had to get out of there and be alone. She ran to escape and be away from the heat and the noise and the unfriendly gazes. Why did I leave?

Outside and walking along an unfamiliar road, she rued her decision to go out. They had gotten a ride with one of her roommate's friends. Even if she knew where the bus stops were it was still too late for the buses to still be running. The party was well away from where residents and businesses would care to call the cops to break up the boisterous gathering. She paid no heed to any thought of waiting out the party and getting a ride home from anyone there, their intentions clear to her from her treatment inside the party. A flash of headlights washed over her as a small truck passed and slowed to a halt. She eyed the vehicle oddly, only understanding when the passenger door opened. She was about to reach for the door when she saw the driver, a big and intimidating vepr, staring at her. That voice of safety was conflicted as she looked back at the rave she left and mulled the long, dark walk ahead. The quickest way, she thought, to get back to the safety of her room was right here and within moments she was buckled in with the unknown driver taking her down unknown roads. Why did I leave?

His truck reeked of cigars and diesel and sweat. He talked and she answered politely, but the conversation was vaguely becoming more personal. A big hand moved closer, a turn of the wheel moved the truck down darker paths, an unexpected question cut nearer to her carefully hidden truths - each attack spread her attention to different fronts too late for her to cope. Attack? Attack! It isn't safe! "We're here, darlin'," was all that punctuated the stopping of the vehicle and the engine going silent. She could barely register the desolate location before rough hands pulled her body against his, tight enough to feel the moistness of his undershirt, the wiry muscles and sagging flesh of his frame, the heat of his breath in her ears. It isn't safe! She screamed and shoved and kicked until she was free of the vehicle, free from his grasp, free of anything holding her from the darkness. Why did I leave?

She knew she could not have escaped, she felt his grip, his muscles, his strength. If he held her she would not have been able to break free. The feel of her pendulous tits swinging freely as she ran and the burning pain of where her clothes, the clothes she wore for the party, the clothes she chose because they were easy to remove, ripped free revealed the intentions of her attacker. Stumbling along the uneven ground she could hear him behind her. She slammed against a tree, attempting to shrink her naked body away from him, hoping he would pass and not see her. But he didn't pass. He was beyond her sight, talking to her. Maybe he knew right where she was, maybe not, but she was a whisper away from hysterical crying, paralyzed with fear, and desperately trying not to move, not to breathe for fear of him finding her. It isn't safe!

But he wasn't some movie villian, some cartoony bad guy. No, this vepr was terror itself. This vepr wasn't even a he but an it because no mortal could possibly look into her like it did. The vepr's gravelly voice told her how sad and alone she was. It knew how badly the evening had gone. But it also knew about her craving and why she went to the party. The nightmare told her of how her body would be repeatedly impaled by its twisted penis until its balls were emptied in her mouth, her ass, and her cunt. The graphic vulgarity was shocking and she trembled at the idea of being caught again. The pig startled her when it said it could smell her fear and her lust, daring her to prove it wrong by touching her crotch, but she knew the damning truth without needing to move a hand to fell that wet mess of fur. Her resolve to not be caught wavered. Why did I leave?

As her ears strained to hear where the bogeyman was, growing accustomed to the throbbing rush of blood, she recognized the distant sound of the party. Hope! Despair. She had been rejected. She rejected them. Running to them naked? Running so far with that so close? And he was close, close enough to smell the cigars, the oil, the sweat, and a pungent odor that caused a heat to flare between her legs. Tears freely flowed down her face as she could hear him coming closer. Not this. She wanted the thrill of being touched, the release of sex, the one fleeting thrill of cumming when she was free of all worry no matter how temporary. But not like this. All light disappeared from her world when she heard a footfall not more than a few feet from where she cowered and its unnaturally loud, gruff voice call to her, "there ain't no hidin' from me. Yer in MY neck a' the woods, darlin'..."

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PostPosted: Fri Aug 26, 2011 10:37 pm 
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Andrick wrote:
Why did I leave? It isn't safe! That voice in her head kept screaming at her, drowning out her panicked thoughts leaving only the terror driven instincts in charge of her body, as she crashed heedlessly through the woods. Her legs burned and not even the adrenaline surge in her blood could keep the muscles from losing strength. Her ragged, gulping breaths brought only lancing pain as the chill night air rapidly passed over the moist, tender flesh of her lungs. It were as if mind and body were fighting each other, the brain crying at the body to move to survive but the body was shutting down unable to understand that the bogeyman was behind her. Why did I leave?


That was excellent writing. I like the way you use repetition. I'll make sure the right person sees this.


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PostPosted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 4:34 am 
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I do not necessarily mean to 'necro' this thread but that is some stellar writing to that picture. Really awesome job Andrick!
Especially this portion,
Quote:
His truck reeked of cigars and diesel and sweat. He talked and she answered politely, but the conversation was vaguely becoming more personal. A big hand moved closer, a turn of the wheel moved the truck down darker paths, an unexpected question cut nearer to her carefully hidden truths - each attack spread her attention to different fronts too late for her to cope. Attack? Attack! It isn't safe! "We're here, darlin'," was all that punctuated the stopping of the vehicle and the engine going silent. She could barely register the desolate location before rough hands pulled her body against his, tight enough to feel the moistness of his undershirt, the wiry muscles and sagging flesh of his frame, the heat of his breath in her ears.
Read it a couple more times. Love love love.

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PostPosted: Thu Jan 19, 2012 7:35 pm 
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WOW!

That wasn't there the last time I looked.

What an amazing answer to the question I asked above it. Do more. Whenever the urge strikes. Please.

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 02, 2012 4:04 pm 
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Andrick wrote:
Why did I leave? It isn't safe!


Because,like so many bad decisions in life, it seemed like the right idea at the time.

Uncle.

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PostPosted: Sun Apr 08, 2012 2:39 pm 
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Uncle wrote:
Andrick wrote:
Why did I leave? It isn't safe!


Because,like so many bad decisions in life, it seemed like the right idea at the time.

Uncle.


Or, as is often the case, an idea originating a bit below the brain......

Andrick wrote:
.....her mind picked out the code for a good rut.


As they say: "Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it."



*Poster on pole: "Have You Seen This Goat?" *

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