F Alexander

Author's Note: First story decent enough to post. Sometimes I wax introspective… I try to keep it minimal, I hope it is not too distracting. Enjoy. I used to dread coming to back to my house. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it; it was a fantastic little place on the outskirts of Boston, far enough to make the commute a pain but close enough that I could still work downtown. Obviously I’m well off enough, especially for a young professional, but money doesn’t buy proper friendship like it does a decent living space. So I liked being in the city more than out in the rural estates. It was so lonely there. ...

Author's Note: I originally intended Kitsune to be a short piece, but in the comments there was some interest in what came next. As the fates would have it, I found I hadn’t explored it adequately enough either, so here’s a sequel of sorts with the perspective swapped. Disclaimer that I continued with the rather dark tone of Kitsune, and I again left it open ended. So whatever fate you envision for our protagonist will be the one she faces; it’s a rather somber and exhausting story for me to return to despite how much fun it was to write. I await your responses, until then I’ll be recovering with kitty gifs on reddit. ...

Author's Note: Warning: creepo characters and darker themes, including heavy misandry and misogyny. Also futa. Proceed with caution. Rat —- The chill crept through my jacket as I lumbered down the foggy street. The street lights shone bright and their reflections peered back at me on the dewy asphalt. Fall in New England, beautiful in the day and haunting at night. My footsteps fell on the sidewalk, clap clap clap clap, echoing around the silent and empty street. ...

Author's Note: Unrealistic premise? Check. Unfathomably naive ‘victim’? Check. Tricksy sinister fetishist? Check. I do believe I have fulfilled the requirements for a fetish shop short story, and hopefully I did the trope some fresh justice. Dedicated to all the writers here who wrote the fun and sexy shop stories that were the inspiration for this one. Rory Baker owned a fetish shop. It had been her favorite dream during her horny teenage years. Oh, to be surrounded on all sides by sensual and erotic clothing and toys! To share that heady pleasure with the blushing submissives and braggadocious dominants, to revel in shared naughtiness and unspeakable fantasies! Upon getting her first extracurricular job she had started saving up for it. When her other friends had started going to college or getting married, she had picked up another job and even started camming for that extra bit of money. Her parents did not approve of her intended line of work, so all she saved was all she got. Their excuse: besides being lewd and crude and completely sinful, it was a long shot, unfeasible, too risque and niche, especially for this part of the country. So, naturally, Rory had dedicated 100% of her spare income to dream no one else believed in. ...