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 o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
 o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of   o
 o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
 o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
 o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
 o  betical directories.                                           o
 o  	I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to   o
 o  be typed therefore I don't type things myself."  I think it's  o
 o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
 o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
 o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-   o
 o tertainment and should not be read by minors.                   o
 o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

 Mule Girl (MF, fantasy)
 by Kurt Hoffman

 ********

 Once upon a time, there was a pocket full of mule-babies. Nipples
 protruded into the pocket. Hairless and moist, pinky purple and
 apricot scented, the mule-babies pressed their squinting faces
 against the milky nubs, squeaking and braying tiny brays. The
 little girl wore her gauze jumper to school, the mule-pocket
 bulging and making squishy noises as all the little mules shifted
 places. She stood proudly at the front of the classroom, as if to
 speak. 

 The teacher looked over her glasses and smiled. "What is it, dear
 child?" 

 "I'm getting these feelings," said the child. "The mules, having
 gained sense and strength from my milky blood are now giving back
 into my veins mule secretions." 
  
 The teacher paused. Time passed. It was true what the girl said. 

 The schoolbell rang. Not laughing and tumbling out the door as they
 usually did, the school children sat stock still. A breeze blew
 through the classroom. 

 "Oh, dear lord," said the teacher, catching the girl's scent. It
 was deeply musky. The girl giggled as she watched the astonished
 faces of the other children at their desks. 

 A freckled fat boy felt erection slowly claim his penis. It strained
 against his trousers. He wished it would go away. But each breath
 drew his lungs full of the girl's peculiar stench and it surged anew. 

 Standing on a chair, the girl reached to the top of the blackboard.
 She pulled it down like a window shade, revealing another blackness,
 not slate, but a void. The children giggled. Soon shadowy forms were
 seen emerging from blackness, madly shooting and darting. To the
 fore they came before ten seconds passed: a trio of demonic musicians
 filling the classroom with wailing song as they beat curled sticks
 on strange drums. A sulfurous blast of hot air overwhelmed the
 classroom. 

 The girl turned her backside towards her classmates. From under her
 jumper came a donkey tail, sliding naked into position like a serpent.
 Then it grew dark with hair. She slid off her panties, revealing her
 donkey butt and legs. She trumpeted a mighty bray. 

 Sweat poured down the children's bodies as the demonic rhythms
 accelerated. They began the dance. The girl carefully took the
 little mules from her pocket and put them safely in her lunchbox
 before tearing off her jumper in a wild gesture. 

 "Yay!" said the children. 

 The teacher's lifeless body retreated into the void. 

 The girl backed down the aisle towards the freckled boy, the only one
 still clothed. Stinking sweat soiled his thin white shirt, causing
 it to stick to his flabby sides. His dick twirled anxiously. The
 little mules were now airborne, a hovering swarm about the horror
 stricken boy. The teasing mule-girl rubbed her swollen sex parts
 against his bulging atrocity. He watched, jaw agape, as she unzipped
 him and led his crimson stalk into the hot open air. It leaked pre-cum
 like blood from a wound. 

 The mule-babies hissed confusing messages into the boy's ears. 

 "She's going to train you." 

 "You're gonna feel like mommy, you little rat." 

 "Get off the earth, fatso." 

 He wept. 

 "We're gonna burst your heart like a condom." 

 "Be mine, Valentine." 

 The girl slid her donkey rear onto him. He gagged. He had never felt
 anything so dirty, repulsive. Yet his loins lunged and pumped. He
 buried himself in the mule girl. He shrieked as if he were being
 prodded with a hot poker; perhaps he was. His eardrums popped. Stuff
 dribbled out his ears. 

 But then something unexpected happened. He felt affection for the mule
 girl. His pounding man-organ slowed. He stroked her coarse, oily fur,
 rubbed his stubby, sticky finger along the edge of her long ears. He
 began to sing. They swayed together. 

 It was too much. 

 I let drop the curtain and continued on my way. Such things are best
 unseen. The sound of a grinding garbage truck called my attention to
 the morning's hangover. I thought of ending it all right then and
 there. Oh, but why? 

 I sauntered back to the open window and drew the curtain again. 

 The musicians had departed, as had the class; to hell, I speculated.
 Still, the couple remained, engaged, purring and heehawing. A cum
 wad fat as a baseball welled up in fat boy's sac. The girl nuzzled
 her snout into his hand, murmuring encouragement. 

 "Wait!" I yelled from the window. 

 They looked up. "Do you know what you've done?" I asked, a grin
 spreading across my cute face like melting brie. 

 "Go ahead," I said. "Take a look!" 

 The boy slowly withdrew his dick. It was made of candy! Like a candy
 cane, red spiral stripe and everything! 

 "Wow!" said the boy. "Woooooooowwwwwww!" 

 The girl looked forlorn as the boy gazed at his licking stick with
 more admiration than ever. As her spirits sank, she came unmuled,
 deformed to childhood's mildness once again. 

 After some time his eyes met hers. "Oh," he said, "Who cares about
 candy? You're sweetness itself. You made all this magic happen." 

 The girl smiled shyly. "Wellll, maybe that's true." 

 "Ah come on, of course that's true," said the fatso. "Hey let's go
 down to the mall and you can tell me all about your adventures. I
 want to know how you got to be such an interesting girl." 

 She beamed. "I like you!" 

 "You know," he said with a hint of sincerity, "I kinda like you, 
too." 


E P I L O G 

 The mule babies were forgotten, lifeless skins of no use to anyone.
 Ponies proved more popular, indeed retaining this preference for all
 eternity. 

 The girl was no mere girl. She was a princess born of mortal mother
 and fairy father. I raised her till the fourth year after I found
 her in the hollow of a tree. 

 I am a famous dancing bear who happened to have the day off. Later
 that afternoon I ate a tabby cat, for which I have suffered pangs
 of conscience ever since. Forgive me, children, if you can...


(c)1995 Kurt Hoffman

