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why cant anyone on here

  1. #1
    Wariat Marine/Preteen Biologist
    have a serious and mature discussion about k9? or the perks downsides of it for women or watching women do this?
  2. #2
    Rape Monster Naturally Camouflaged
    same reason you can't have a conversation that isn't about sex or prison
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  3. #3
    There is no maturity when you are talking about fucking a dog
  4. #4
    Wariat Marine/Preteen Biologist
    https://qr.ae/pvFYry
  5. #5
    aldra JIDF Controlled Opposition
    *shits on floor*

    "let's have a serious and mature conversation on what I've just done"
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  6. #6
    Wariat Marine/Preteen Biologist
    https://www.quora.com/As-a-10-year-old-child-I-engaged-in-bestiality-after-watching-a-YouTube-video-encouraging-it-and-it-haunts-me-to-this-day-I-m-now-16-How-can-I-cope-or-even-forget-about-this
  7. #7
    Wariat Marine/Preteen Biologist
    lets have a serious discussion fuys:

    Female zoophile here. Currently in love with my boxer dog, Bear, and yes, I still feel attraction to humans. I’m really only sexually attracted to dogs. With all other animals, it’s an emotional attraction. Hang tight: this is gonna be long and I have a lot to unpack considering I’m staying in the closet till the day I wind up killing myself.

    I’ve grown up around animals my entire life. I’ve never gone a year without at least one in my life. It makes sense that I’d eventually form an attraction towards them.

    I think the first dog I really fell in love with was my bull mastiff. It wasn’t a sexual or romantic love considering I was barely five years old, but it was definitely stronger than your average love for a dog. I remember feeling super sick, and my mom was in the shower. She said she wasn’t allowed on the couch, but I invited her on anyways. She curled up on the couch beside me and I cuddled up against her belly as if it was a huge pillow. Just the warmth and her soft musky smell made me feel a bit better. I spoke to her as if she could listen and told her all of the stories I’d made up in my distorted toddler mind. In my eyes, she was my true best friend. I loved her softness, her scent, and her huge, droopy eyes that always made me feel safe. Being around animals has always been a breathtaking experience for me. It brings a sense of comfort and tranquility in even my darkest of moments.

    She was the first dog I remember feeling a powerful bond with, and she certainly wasn’t the last. Dogs have always been in my life, and each and every one holds a special place in my heart. The feeling has been mutual as far as I can tell. Out of all my family members, animals always seem to cozy up to me the quickest, and I’ve never met one that didn’t like me. From cats to bearded dragons and hermit crabs, everyone who knows me knows I’m an animal magnet. As you can imagine, I make a great sitter.

    It’s a very natural thing. Just like being gay or having dark skin, you don’t really realize you’re different until someone calls you out for it. I never really thought about my intense love for animals until puberty when my Mom noticed I was a little too close with one of the family dogs (to the point where I would sleep in his kennel with him). She used to complain that I was always more affectionate with dogs than I was with my own family, and it’s true. I can go months without texting my friends and family, and I despise hugs and kisses or any physical display of affection from anyone else, but put me in front of my dog, Bear, and I’m the gushiest sucker out there. It’s very much like a sugar daddy relationship: He’s a brat spoiled rotten, and I’m a lovesick idiot. I love him more than I could love most humans in my life. I have more pictures of him on my phone than I do myself, dog hair can be found on every piece of clothing I own, and my house is littered with his toys.

    No, I’ve not had sexual relations with him or any animal for that matter. Bear’s never once mounted anything in his life, and whenever other dogs try and do it to him, he always snaps at them. I’ve taken that as a sign that he’s not interested in sex, and I respect that. What most people don’t get is that zoophiles don’t view animals as sex toys to train and fuck whenever we please. Most treat their animals as if they’re angels above God, and I’m the same. I don’t view animals as pets. I view them as family, lovers, friends, brothers, sisters, etc. Growing up, I hated that my family always made the dogs sleep on the floor and eat nothing but dry kibble full of fillers and leftover chicken carcasses and crap. I can’t stand going to zoos anymore after I watched a clipped macaw climb the bars of their cage and stare me directly in the eyes. It made me depressed for the rest of the week, and I still can’t get that bird’s eyes out of my head. I just can’t comprehend why people view animals as…well, animals. I’ve always viewed them as intelligent individuals with their own thoughts and personalities. They’re smarter than we give them credit for. I once had a dog learn to open and close doors all by himself, and Bear’s learned that my laptop is an enemy because I’m always on it for work, lol.

    I know the media thinks zoophiles are just sex hungry deviants ready to fuck any dog in sight, but it’s not the case for most, and especially not for me. I love dogs, but my neighbor’s dog is so obnoxious that not even members of his own species want to fuck him. I may be fucked up in the head but I have standards.

    Jokes aside, I’m not gonna hop over a fence and touch another person’s dog, nor am I gonna just start sucking some random horse dick (I’m not really into horses anyways…). Think about it: As a normal human who feels attraction to other humans, you wouldn’t just go around kidnapping people or screwing your neighbors over, right? Why would I do the same? I know there are some sick individuals out there who hurt animals because they know they can be taken advantage of, but as I already said, I don’t view animals as brain-dead insentient creatures devoid of emotion, and I prefer to spend a few years with the animal before forming a serious connection with them. It takes years to learn an animal’s language, and each has their very own vocabulary. I treat them like I’d want to be treated if I was an animal, and take the time to listen. Believe it or not, animals are speaking to us all the time, but because most people view them as “just animals”, they never get listened to.

    I have enough of a head on my shoulders to know that a relationship with a dog is such a ridiculous thing. You can’t talk about politics or go out to Olive Garden with a dog, they die before you do (Hell, Bear’s life could end any second now with his epilepsy) and if I were to die before Bear, animal instinct would take over and he’d eat my dead body without a second thought. Having sex with an animal is not only illegal where I’m from, but society has ostracized it so much that I feel sick just thinking about it. Sometimes I feel isolated, knowing that I’ll die without anyone knowing this part of me. It feels like I’m hiding something crucial from those that claim they’ll love me no matter what. Whenever an animal dies, I’ll be faced with the “Oh, it was just a pet.”. They’re not pets to me, but nobody would get that. To them, the lives of animals hold much less value than the lives of humans. Nobody gets it when I’m watching a movie where the animal dies and I start crying, but I could care less when most of the humans die. I have to live with the fact that my friends and family unknowingly have wished me dead and have called me disgusting to my face. Just imagine being a closeted gay in a household that would disown you if you ever came out. Except, you can’t just move into a neighborhood that accepts you when you get older. As a zoophile, NOBODY accepts you. EVERYONE is the household that would disown you. And when I say disown, I mean ruin your entire life and tear apart all of your dreams and aspirations because you’re a sick, disgusting animal rapist. You’re the scum of the earth. Lusting after an animal? That can only mean that I’m a dangerous pervert, right?

    I’d no longer be human. My life would suddenly become lower than dirt. Forget the fact that I was born human too with a range of emotions and complex thought process’. If someone just steps slightly out of line, our entire species turns against that anomaly without a second thought. They don’t care about that person’s life, all they care about is ironing out all the wrinkles in this perfect black and white society.

    So you’re stuck in that cramped closet for the rest of your life no matter how crowded it gets. You can’t open the door even a peek without the fear that the life you’ve always dreamed of living will be destroyed.

    A dog isn’t human. That’s all there is to it. A relationship with a dog is simply unrequited and forbidden.

    I told myself all of these things when I first discovered I was a zoo. I was horrified with myself. I was like the rest of society: I saw myself as a disgusting, animal abusing monster that needed to kill myself right away before it was too late. The first thing I did was distance myself from Bear. I still provided him with his necessities, but I pet him like any normal dog owner would do. No laying on the floor, no kisses on the mouth, no flirty talk. I slept on the couch, made him sit in the back seat of the car, etc.

    Let me tell you, he was not happy with that. Bear is usually a very introverted fellow when it comes to expressing himself. He never barks or acts out, but the moment he noticed I was treating him differently, he went crazy. He started barking whenever I stopped petting him, he would interrupt me during work and let out long sighs whenever I told him no, he followed me on the couch to sleep with me, and to my dismay, he went as far as chewing up one of my books, something he hasn’t done since he was just weeks old. I tried to get him to bond more with other family members, but whenever he was hungry or wanted attention, I was the first one he came trotting to. It was heart-wrenching. I felt like I was a horrible person for not supplying him with the love he deserved, but I also felt like a horrible person for wanting to be anything more than pet and owner with him. I had no desire to have sex with him, but even just kissing him felt wrong.

    But eventually, I gave in and started giving him his normal amount of attention again. His needy behavior came to a stop, and life was starting to feel a bit normal again. It was then that I thought: He doesn’t seem to care what I do or how I feel…so why do I?

    I started to do some research of my own instead of just believing what society told me. I used to think that the topic of Zoophilia was a very black and white issue: Either you’re normal, or you’re a sick animal rapist.

    But there’s always a grey space in between, and after some thorough research and thoughtful discussions with other zoos online, I’ve started to become more accepting of myself. And you know what? Despite all of the stigma and the horrible knowledge that everyone I know could turn on me in an instant with this information, being a zoophile is actually pretty great in many ways.

    I’ve given Bear nothing but love and affection. I spend a pretty heavy amount of money every month to pay for his cocktail of epilepsy medication, and whenever he does have a seizure, I stay with him through the entire thing until he’s back on his feet and wagging his little stump of a tail. During his worst moments, I drove him to the hospital with his head in my lap. On the days I felt ready to slice into my wrists, he sat before me and stared at me with those precious coffee brown eyes until guilt consumed me. He gave me a reason to move forward with my life and stop hurting myself. When I break down and cry, he licks away the tears. On the days where I just feel like the world is crashing down on me, he trots over with a bright look on his face that reminds me there is a sun in the sky.

    There are moments when we don’t really get along just like in any relationship. I get jealous when he gives others attention, and he growls at any dog that gets too friendly with me. He hates it when I poke his face, and I can’t stand when he steps on my bare feet with his thick claws. I can’t open a bag of pretzels without him rushing over to snag a few, he drools all over my sweaters, and I can’t even go to the bathroom without him trying to come in with me. One time when I was playing tug of war with him, he crashed into me and we ended up cracking a wall. And that was only the first time that happened. My poor wallet.

    But when he gets sleepy, no matter where I am in the house, he waddles over, sits in my lap, and passes out cold. It’s the most precious thing when he sleeps. His little tongue sticks out of his mouth and he snores softly. Sometimes he’ll bark or wag his tail in his sleep, and I can’t help but beam. It’s one of the highlights of my day. When we go on walks on trails, I love the way he wags his little hips. When we pass by the occasional doe, he perks up like a little meerkat and whimpers when it bolts away. It’s his enthusiasm that really gets me (boxers are notorious for their wide range of facial expressions). It’s refreshing after being around humans with their complex emotions to be around a creature that just enjoys life no matter what comes his way. He’s happy all the time, even over things humans consider stupid. He’s never known resentment or fear. All he knows is love, loyalty, and a never ending appetite. He’s an inspiration. He’s beautiful.

    After a nice long shower, I open the door to find him laying there, waiting for me to come out. It feels good to be wanted and to know that on the other side of that door, someone’s wagging his tail for you. Something as simple as buying bubbles and blowing them throughout the house gets him wagging so fast you can barely see his tail. On late nights, we cuddle on the couch and share some popcorn. I usually pop on some tv, but considering he can’t really watch it, he sits in my lap and enjoys the pets. He’s warm and his smell is more comforting than the smell of lavender. Almost everyone who meets him says he stinks, but I’ve always loved his scent. It’s precious to me. Whenever I sneak him some of my food, his eyes light up brighter than any star. A dog’s eyes are powerful. Unlike humans, dogs are genuine with their emotions. When they’re cranky, they let you know. When they’re afraid of something, they come running to you for comfort. When they’re happy, you know they’re happy. Their eyes are full of so much love and they appreciate the smallest of things, like a belly rub or a game of tug-o-war. You could go out and set fire to an orphanage, and they’d never see you differently. They’d love you regardless.

    Bear doesn’t care that I’m riddled with anxiety, or that I’m terrible at expressing my emotions. He’s never told me that I’m a waste of resources or that people like me deserve to be dead straight to my face. He’s never made fun of my mental strife or made me feel unworthy of love for being a little chunkier than your average girl. He’s never made me feel conflicted over something as simple as the color of my skin. He’s never made me feel guilty for having a harder time than most saying “I love you”. He’s never told me I’m retarded and that all the hard work I do to get a good education is worthless. He’s never pressured me into believing things I don’t believe in. He’s never thrown things at me or threatened to slam my head into a wall. He’s never done anything to make me hate what I see in the mirror. All of which, several people in my life have done.

    He doesn’t need anything from me except me. As long as I stay close to him, he’s happy with me the way I am.

    Is zoophilia a mental illness? No, not really. A mental illness causes suffering to the person and those around them. If anything, my love for Bear has helped me overcome my mental strife, and considering Bear doesn’t care and those around me don’t know of my orientation, there’s no harm anywhere.

    Could zoophilia be caused by a mental illness or PTSD? Maybe. The few zoos I’ve encountered have said they haven’t experienced trauma of any kind, but I’ve experienced some emotional abuse in the past.

    Do I believe animals can consent? Go ahead and pray to God that I drop dead tomorrow, but I honestly believe they can. Not in our language, but in their own. Like I said, animals speak to us everyday, but because most people view them as inferior, they don’t listen. We can’t enforce a human perspective on everything. If the animal is fine with it, is of age, isn’t being harmed, is given a choice, isn’t drugged, tied, or trained and isn’t using the defense tactics nature gave them, then I see no problem with creatures of two different species having sex. It shouldn’t be as complex as we make it out to be. Take Bear for example: I know he doesn’t like something when he A. Licks his jowls and draws his ears back, B. When he lowers his head, C. In extreme cases, raises his hackles, bares his teeth, and growls. If you push him too far, he does bite, and from what I’ve heard from my sister, it hurts like hell.These are obvious signals he uses to show that he is uncomfortable and doesn’t like something, and I often see it when my sister gets in his face for too long, or other dogs try attacking his back legs.

    However, if I were to hypothetically initiate sex in an alternate universe where Bear somehow was this huge horndog, signs of consent would be the obvious humping, exposure of the penis, spreading his legs, wagging his tail, pawing (which is basically where he taps my legs to get my attention) heavy breathing, licking of my hands and his area, etc. As someone who’s known him his entire life, I can safely say these are the signs he gives when he likes something and wants more of it, like with neck scratches or butt pats. Except for the humping, and penis thing, obviously…
  8. #8
    Wariat Marine/Preteen Biologist
    And even if they couldn’t consent, you people act like animals can consent to forced fertilization, inhumane testing for “research” and cosmetic shit, being slaughtered for meat/sport, being bred until their eyelashes stab into their eyeballs and their legs can barely hold up their bodies, being used in the police/fire force, being fed dry kibble made of lord knows what ingredients on the floor out of bowls that go weeks without being washed, being tied down with leashes and collars, etc. I could go on and on. Fact of the matter is, if the animal doesn’t care and it doesn’t harm anyone involved, why should humans be bothered? With pedophilia, there’s a 100% guarantee the child involved will face some sort of mental and emotional trauma growing up even if they “consent” to the sex because of their emotional and mental immaturity. Even in nature animals always wait till the creature is of age before trying to procreate with it. Necrophilia can really only be consensual if the owner of the body wants to be sent to some sort of dead body brothel or something. But with Zoophilia? Animals try and get it on with members of different species all the time. Fully mature adult animals know what sex is and if they want it or not. For Bear, he knows it’s not for him. The stray dog that humped my friend’s leg until he finished his business a few months ago, however, was another story.

    Animals don’t view sex like humans do. We view it as something symbolic and meaningful that can be dangerous if abused. For them, all that matters is if they like it or not. And if they’re fine it it, then what right do we have to interject?

    Do I want to have sex with animals? Well, yeah, but I can certainly live without it. I’m a regular human being that can live contently without ever having sex with humans or animals. I’m happy with the little moments. Just cuddling and sleeping on the same bed is more special than sex to me. But if a day ever did come where bestiality was legal (it won’t), I’d probably open myself up to that opportunity if I’m being honest.

    Do I watch bestiality porn? Hell no. In all of those clips, they mistreat the animals and stuff them full of drugs. If the sex is going to be consensual, the animal has to accept it or initiate it themselves. No treats, no drugs

    https://qr.ae/pvFYFU
  9. #9
    Wariat Marine/Preteen Biologist
    https://www.quora.com/My-boyfriend-wants-me-to-eat-his-poop-Should-I-do-it

    While I’ve engaged in urolagnia, my main interest is coprophagia, and it makes me feel great! Like the other responder, it gives me a thrill to engage in something that most people wouldn’t do. I’ve largely eaten my own, in varying quantities. I don’t usually consume a huge amount at any one time. A couple bites. I wouldn’t describe the taste as pleasant necessarily, but it’s certainly not as bad as most people would make it out to be. Diet certainly plays a part in how it tastes.

    I’ve also consumed small amounts of my girlfriend’s on three occasions. Each time, I was lubing her ass for anal and was able to pull some out and eat it. The taste was sweet, mainly, I think, because of the lube. It made me incredibly aroused. She wasn’t aware that I had done this, though I’d hinted at it. Recently, I opened up to her fully about my desires, and she’s accepted them. It does nothing for her, but she’s willing to indulge me, and I feel incredibly lucky. Last night, she surprised me with one of these, sans the bucket underneath the seat:

    I never dreamed that I would find a woman who would shit in my mouth, but she’s willing to try. I’d like to have her shit on my cock, as well. As the other responder mentioned, the texture can be incredible, and I’ve found that jacking off with shit feels amazing.
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  10. #10
    Rape Monster Naturally Camouflaged
    Originally posted by Wariat https://www.quora.com/My-boyfriend-wants-me-to-eat-his-poop-Should-I-do-it

    That's not as uncommon a fetish as u think man
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