Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
Twisted Ties: Ganged and Bred
Bred on the Aussie Farm: Rams and Dogs
Sons Pounding Busty Moms: Incest Erotica
Son Trains Mom For Dog Sex: Incest Bestiality Erotica
Breaking Mom: Humiliation and Degradation Part 1
Breaking Mom: Humiliation and Degradation Part 2
Using Mom: Rough Sex Bundle (Incest Bestiality Erotica)
Daddy Daughter and Dog
Mom Begs for More: Incest Erotica
The Barbarian Horse Tribe
Affair With Her Pet Dog
Bred by Dad and Dog
Father Humiliates and Gangbangs Daughter
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By J. Lancer
Control Theory: A Mind Control Virus
Also By J. Lancer
All characters are over 18.
Megan hated the sound of Amber's voice. Not just the content—though God knew that was insufferable enough—but the actual timber and cadence of it. The way it cut through walls, through doors, through the expensive noise-canceling headphones Megan had bought specifically to drown out Amber's existence.
It was Tuesday night. Megan sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop balanced precariously on her knees, trying to finish a work presentation. Trying and failing. Because Amber was on the phone again.
"I literally can't even!" Amber's voice sliced through the thin drywall. "He said that? To your face?"
Megan's jaw tightened. She didn't grind her teeth anymore—the night guard her dentist prescribed had cost $500—but she wanted to. Wanted to grind them to dust.
They'd been roommates for eight months and seventeen days. Not that Megan was counting. Not that she had a calendar with a big red circle around the day their lease expired.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Craigslist had promised a "clean, quiet professional." What Megan got instead was a 24-year-old "social media consultant" who treated their shared bathroom like a science experiment in mold cultivation.
The doorbell rang.
"Can you get that?" Amber shouted, not bothering to cover her phone's microphone. "I'm literally in the middle of something important!"
Megan closed her laptop with more force than necessary. Important. Right. Because dissecting some Tinder date's choice of appetizer constituted pressing business.
She stomped down the hallway, past Amber's open door where the blonde lounged on her unmade bed, surrounded by discarded clothing and half-empty Starbucks cups. Their apartment wasn't large—just over 900 square feet of tension-filled space that cost them each $1,200 a month. Welcome to Seattle.
The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.
"Coming!" Megan barked. She hadn't ordered anything. If this was another of Amber's endless Amazon packages of crop tops and jade rollers...