Are There Funny Facts In Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs?

If you’re a delicate little flower who clutches pearls and believes sex should only happen in the missionary position with the lights off and your spouse’s permission, close this book immediately. Seriously. Put it down before you ruin your boring little life with uncontrollable wetness and questionable morals. Still here? Good girl. Welcome to Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet — a ruthless, dripping-wet collection of one hundred filthy, plot-driven taboo stories that don’t just flirt with the line… they bend you over it, fuck you senseless, and leave you leaking.😉 💦

"Crawl to Daddy on your hands and knees, little whore. I want to see you beg for this d*ck before I split you open and breed that dripping c*nt." * Daddy's Naughty Pet is a collection for readers who are tired of vanilla bullshit and want stories about people who fuck like their lives depend on it. Five chapters each of the raunchiest, most depraved scenarios that'll make you wet, hard, and wondering what's wrong with you for loving it. The stepmom who "accidentally" walks in on her stepson jerking off and decides to help. The personal assistant who schedules "meetings" that are really just fuck sessions on the conference table. The priest who breaks his vows with a parishioner in the confessional. The doctor who gives very hands-on examinations. The landlord who demands payment in pussy. The mechanic who test-drives more than cars. The massage therapist with wandering hands. The yoga instructor who teaches flexible positions for other reasons. The lifeguard who performs mouth-to-mouth that turns into face-fucking. The uber driver who takes a detour. Every character is controlled by their cravings. The married woman sneaking out to get railed by her ex because her husband's dick doesn't satisfy. The college girl who fucks her entire fraternity in one night. The businessman who keeps a submissive locked in his penthouse. These stories don't have plot—they have positions. No character development—just hole development. No emotional connection—just physical fucking that leaves them sore, sticky, and immediately ready for round two. Expect: Every depraved kink you can imagine and some you didn't know existed. This collection is shameless, filthy, degenerate smut with zero redeeming qualities. And that's exactly why you'll devour every word. Ready! Now flip that page like the good little girl you are.

A security guard caught a snake in our apartment complex and delivered it straight to my door. I was just about to scream when floating comments cut in. [The male lead got dumped and turned back into his real form just to spy on his girlfriend, and he actually got caught? This is funny as hell!] [He got dumped, and his girlfriend hates him. He's probably gonna cry himself to sleep!] [Aww, poor little snake can't curl up on his girlfriend tonight.] The big black snake looked pitiful in the guard's hands. It secretly sized me up with its slit pupils. I tried holding out my hand, and the black snake stared in disbelief. Two seconds later, it obediently rubbed its head against my fingers.

My dad is a player. After he succeeds in his conquest mission, he leaves this world… as well as four mothers to me. My first mom is an extremely wealthy CEO. My second mom is supremely famous for her work as the top actress. My third mom has stellar medical skills, whereas my fourth mom holds an authoritative and influential position. My four moms have spent the last 16 years doting on me endlessly. They would give me whatever I want. That is, until three years ago when William Carson, the son of their first love, returns to their lives. Since then, my moms have only trusted him, reserving all their distrust for me. When William accuses me of calling him a bastard filthier than that of a mutt who doesn't have the right to live at home, my moms make me live in a kennel and eat scraps like a true mutt. When William claims that I'm the one taking the lead to bully him at school, my moms decide to make me drop out of school. Then, they hire three delinquents to beat me up at home for three long months. When William tells my moms that I've shoved him once again, my moms lock me up in a cage and starve me for 72 hours straight in hopes that I will learn my lesson. Just when I'm on the brink of dying from starvation, I hear Dad's voice. "Henry, do you want to come back to me?"

The zombie apocalypse had arrived, and pets could transform into guardians to protect their owners—each person was allowed no more than three. My best friend had spent a fortune on three Tibetan mastiffs. The landlord cleared out a fish tank to raise a crocodile. My boyfriend? He had stormed the zoo and dragged a lion home. And me? I only had three stray cats. The eldest was blind, the second one limped, and the youngest had just turned one month old. The moment the apocalypse system announced that pet slots were locked, I knew I was doomed. I tried to hide with my three disabled cats, hoping to survive quietly. Day one of the apocalypse: terrified… Day two: helpless… Day three: my cats sauntered over, tails swishing, carrying some unidentifiable object. "Mama, I bit off all the zombie heads on this street. How's that? Solid enough?" I was rendered speechless.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.