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Bite, a BITE story by Captain Raz @captainraz

Reposted from here. Dani hadn’t realised it could be this cold without actually, you know, snowing. Stuck on a mountainside in April with nothing but a sleeping bag and a few millimetres of the highest tech tent material between her and the elements wasn’t exactly her idea of fun, but here she was. She always

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Reposted from here. He bites down and it tastes of wolves, jaws clashing in the deep of the woods, it tastes of soured milk spilled carelessly across stone, it tastes of the copper-coin heave-inducing flatness of his own blood. He bites down, pressing his teeth together, feeling them meet in the middle. Harder, and his

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Lesson One, a BITE story by The Scribbling Wren @noodlebubble

Reposted from here. It’s my first time driving. He’s moving his hands, palms outstreched in opposite directions to show what my feet should do. “…raise your foot up until you feel the bite.” I don’t feel anything bite. The car is full of rank oniony sweat mixed with mint from the Polos he’s obsessively crunching.

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Bite, a BITE story by Kenders @kendersrule

Reposted from here. “Bite down.” The voice was far too warm. Not clinical at all. It should have been ice cold, fully devoid of emotion. The voice had bounce. He bit the proffered leather strap. Zzzzzttt. He tried his best to keep his head still, mindful of the consequences should he flinch too hard. Zzzzzzzzzrrrrrt.

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I *red heart* knickers, a BITE story by Nina Bellini @ninabellini

Reposted from here. That blissful feeling of a touch from behind. A firm hand in charge. Before it gently grips and tugs them gradually down. Lace lowers slowly and steadily, Reveals a peach. A delight. To bite. Savour. Cold air caress on flesh. Then a tingle between my legs as I open. Show. Reveal a glimpse of our pleasure

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Bite, a BITE story by Nathan @NathanRedland

Reposted from here. Patrick awoke to a familiar, unwelcome whine somewhere near his ear. It was November, for God’s sake, how were there still mosquitoes in his apartment? A recent bite on his shoulder itched. The little shits. Through the gloom, his bleary eyes made out his tiny assailant, dancing drunkenly not far from his

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