And at last he came to me, Donald himself with his sailor suit and his beak golden in the sun, and him peeling a switch and eyeing me like the old days, when he’d whip me long and thorough the blackguard and then ride me hard in the pond, oh rough, Donald, rough I’d say, feeling his beak on my neck all forceful, and he’d say Molly you’re never a dog, you white feathered slut my beauty my booty my Andalusian flower.
And he stepped towards me and I asked him with my eyes to ask me again, and he took me in his wings and pressed me down, and he kissed my down, and my breasts all smelling of pondweed and fish, I could feel his heart going like mad and yes, I said, yes I KWARK! KWARK! I will I said yes I will Yes KWARK.
Blue Mountains, 2017
Note on banned UK censorship categories:
Ducks are fully mature at, say, three years old. After that they become senior ducks, and die at 5-10 years. So this not only offers bestiality but underage bestiality!
Smutathon involves writers pumping out filth for a 12-hour marathon of smut. It’s to raise awareness, and money, for two great causes: Rape Crisis Centres, and Backlash, an organisation challenging the UK’s insane censorship regime.
What I’d like you lovely, lively people to do, please is go here, and support Smutathon with your donation.