Review #177

A First of Firsts

Story by Kelly

Review by Ray




I do not like this story. I do not like it in a house, I do not like it with a mouse, I do not like it in a box, I do not like it with a fox, I do not like it here or there, I do not like it anywhere, I do not like A First of Firsts, but I'll review it 'til my noggin hurts.


Hi, my name is Kelly.

Hi Kelly, my name is Ray. I’m reviewing your story because I found that many aspects of it were subpar, and I was hoping to demonstrate (through the clever use of satire) how you might be able to improve your writing skills. As a sign of good faith, I will refrain from using any memes or gifs for the remainder of this review, as such things could be misconstrued as mocking or hurtful; here at The Retributionists, we pride ourselves in avoiding anything that might make the writer feel bad. We know, after all, that you tried your hardest.
Best wishes,
Ray

If you like my stories,

I can promise you that the rest of this sentence will be thoroughly unnecessary.
Love,
Ray

please feel free to email me, but I'm not sure if this will be as interesting as my previous works of fiction, as this is my first experience in the world of canine sex.

Well worry not Kelly, because you can bet your button that this isn’t my first time reviewing it. Now, let’s get to the story.
Cordially,
Ray

I was excited about going to college, and the night after graduation was the biggest party of summer. To make the dull part of the story short, I kissed another guy and my boyfriend broke up with me. I was all ready drunk, but that sobered me up enough that I wanted to get out of there, right then.

I do hope you’ll forgive the pedanticity Kelly, but “all ready” should be concatenated into “already” for the sake of readability. Although one could argue that a drunk person might expand one word into two, it’s important to remember Hemingway King’s Axiom of Writerdom: write drunk, edit sober. Remember that, and you’ll be a pro in no time Kelly.
Toodles,
Ray

My parents were still out when I got home. They were designated drivers at another party. I didn't think it was that cool then, but I admire that about them now.

This is good. We have a story about a woman jacking off her dog, so naturally, it’s very important to begin with her thoughts on her parents. This isn’t an extraneous detail whatsoever, and it sheds so much light on who she is.
Good luck on all of your hopes and dreams,
Ray

Anyway, I had come home, drunk off my ass. There are bits and pieces missing, but I remember plopping down on the couch and the family dog was sitting there watching me. I noticed his cock was out.

It was red and pointy.

As dog cocks are wont to do.
To life, to liberty, and to the pursuit of happiness,
Ray

Small by comparison to the few men I'd been with.

Rude.
With much adoration,
Ray

I remember giggling, but I found myself curious as to if it felt like a man's. Without putting much thought into it; (I blame the liquor.) The next thing I knew, there I was on the living room floor, jacking off my dog.

This is a very immersive way to tell the story, well done Kelly. The protagonist is drunk, and through the omission of certain details, it feels like I’m drunk too. In future drafts however, you may want to reconsider whether or not some of these details would actually be beneficial to the story. For example, the undoubtedly thorough introspection that the protagonist must have undergone when deciding whether or not it was ethical to give her doggy a handjob. Still, you nailed the drunk thing.
I am drunk,
Ray

It felt warm and rubbery, and it was leaking pre-cum. I rubbed the sheathe and his cock.

Ah, the sheath, wonderful research Kelly. Small concern: the fact that our protagonist knows to call it the sheath would suggest that she already knows dog cock is different than man cock, ergo making this whole experiment pointless. But other than that, spot on.
“Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames!”
-Rumi
Ray
P.S. I am still drunk.

He grew bigger. I couldn't believe it. He was a medium sized mixed lab but his cock was massive.

I kept stroking him and he was humping my hand. And then he was making weird whimpering noises and then like a fire-hose (nearest I can explain it) he exploded. Dog jizz shot all over my hand and up my arm. It was so warm. And there was so much of it. I couldn't believe it.

I found this sex scene to be rather underwhelming. Rather than a story, this felt more like reading a list of actions. Through the use of more varied punctuation, I believe this paragraph’s flow would be greatly improved.
Always dedicated to literary excellence,
Ray

At first I thought he had peed on me.

Aw shucks.
Shucks,
Ray

I went to the bathroom and washed off. There was even cum on my dress. Luckily that came off.

Tension is a good thing to have in a story. It keeps the action moving, and it keeps the readers engaged. For this reason, it was a good call to introduce the conflict of the dog semen on the dress, even if it was resolved in the very next sentence and never addressed again.
With many a tongue in many a cheek,
Ray

How I got from there to the bed I don't remember.

When I awoke the next day, I felt horrible. I remembered everything I had done, but I was still in disbelief. I felt disgusted with myself and as a result I treated the dog very badly over the course of the summer.

Sad.
Sadly,
Ray

It was almost a year later, well not quite, but during my second freshman semester I got a dog to keep me company, and that is when the fun really started...

Should I continue?

No. Absolutely not. Whether you find bestiality repulsive or whether you think it’s the hottest thing in the world, I think we can all agree that the storytelling here needs a lot of improvement before anybody continues anything. In fact, let’s read this one more time, just to accentuate the fact—fact, I say!—that this story blows dog cock.

Hi, my name is Kelly.

Hi Kelly, my name is Ray.

If you like my stories,

In fairness, I’ve only read this one. And this one did not impress me. Not an amazing record Kelly, please step up your game.

please feel free to email me, but I'm not sure if this will be as interesting as my previous works of fiction, as this is my first experience in the world of canine sex.

That is abundantly clear.

I was excited about going to college, and the night after graduation was the biggest party of summer. To make the dull part of the story short, I kissed another guy and my boyfriend broke up with me.

That does not sound like the dull part of the story. That sounds like the part of the story that you were going to write but didn’t know how, and so you skipped to the part with the dog, thinking that the dog would be easier to write since you didn’t have to give him a character. Spoiler alert: the dog not having a character is one of the most irritating things about this story.

I was all ready drunk, but that sobered me up enough that I wanted to get out of there, right then.

My parents were still out when I got home. They were designated drivers at another party. I didn't think it was that cool then, but I admire that about them now.

Extraneous detail is still extraneous.

Anyway, I had come home, drunk off my ass. There are bits and pieces missing,

Yeah, about that. This selective amnesia sure is handy, isn’t it? Let’s us skip right to the sex, without addressing how we got to the sex. What you failed to realize, however, is that how we got to the sex is just as fucking important. You cheated on your boyfriend and he broke up with you, wow, what riveting storytelling. It’s incredible: the dog and the protagonist have about the same level of character depth, and you know what? At least we know what the dog’s cock is like.

but I remember plopping down on the couch and the family dog was sitting there watching me. I noticed his cock was out.

It was red and pointy.

For people who wanted to read erotica about a dog’s penis, but have never actually seen a dog penis!

Small by comparison to the few men I'd been with. I remember giggling, but I found myself curious as to if it felt like a man's.

This is the most telling sentence in the entire story, IMHO. First of all, yes, of course the dog’s penis is going to feel different than a man’s. But there’s something more than that. A dog’s penis is attached to a dog: the dog is going to feel different than a man. Now watch: I’m going to replace a few key words in the next paragraph, and you tell me if it reads any differently.

Without putting much thought into it; (I blame the liquor.) The next thing I knew, there I was on the living room floor, jacking off my man. It felt warm and rubbery, and it was leaking pre-cum. I rubbed the balls and his cock. He grew bigger. I couldn't believe it. He was a medium sized Mexican but his cock was massive.

See? I’ll admit that the bit about him being Mexican comes out of nowhere, but then again, so does the bit about the dog being a lab. Essentially, we have some cookie cutter erotica that would work if we replaced either character with anything. We might as well be reading a story that’s not about bestiality at all, which would be fine by me, if that weren’t the whole fucking point of the story in the first place. Step up your game Kelly. Seriously.

I kept stroking him and he was humping my hand. And then he was making weird whimpering noises and then like a fire-hose (nearest I can explain it) he exploded. Dog jizz shot all over my hand and up my arm. It was so warm. And there was so much of it. I couldn't believe it.

She gave the dog a handy. Cool. Why do I care? This story is not a story. It might as well be a sketch of a dog getting a handjob, with the caption, “This totally happened.” It would be just as convincing.

At first I thought he had peed on me. I went to the bathroom and washed off. There was even cum on my dress. Luckily that came off.

btw that was sarcasm when I said that this conflict was necessary. I would actually go so far as to say that this conflict was unnecessary.

How I got from there to the bed I don't remember.

“How I got from there to the bed literally didn’t matter.”

When I awoke the next day, I felt horrible. I remembered everything I had done, but I was still in disbelief. I felt disgusted with myself and as a result I treated the dog very badly over the course of the summer.

So the protagonist is a bad person. Right? I mean, abusing animals; I couldn’t come up with a more direct way to make an unsympathetic character if I tried. At this point I dislike her and I feel bad for the dog, so as a reader, why would I keep reading?

It was almost a year later, well not quite, but during my second freshman semester I got a dog to keep me company, and that is when the fun really started...

Fuck this story. Honestly. “I was mean to my dog, and now I have another dog. Doesn’t that sound sexy?” No. It sounds sad, and quite frankly, if there is a second part then I don’t want to see it.

Should I continue?

Knock yourself out Kelly. Just be sure to leave me out of it if you do.