Huge Dildo Set Up On A Stool That's Just Too High For The Sub To Reach On His Own So His Dom Picks Him

The tragedy of my life is that I keep acquiring and displaying fetish art and having to be corrected by my friends.

Most recently, a friend came over my house and saw my computer background and went, "Wow, um, I didn't know you were into that." To which I look at the picture of the well drawn muscular female minotaur in historically accurate Greek clothing and I start geeking out about how I love the detail the artist did with the clothing and I point out the period appropriate folds and pins, how the artist even inserted the native plant that was used to dye the clothing this particular shade in the background, and even how the belt has technology AND historically accurate weaving patterns on it.

Then I start explaining how I love the muscular choices of the minotaur, that I was so impressed with the artist's anatomically correct depiction of the muscles converging into the neck. That many people get an upright cow's neck wrong because cow's don't have collarbones, so it can be very difficult to merge the upper arms and a chest of a human with a cow's body. I draw her attention to the beautiful way they've merged the pectoralis major so smoothly while also staying true to how muscular they've depicted the rest of the body.

I finish up with my thoughts on the artist's bold choice to depict the minotaur as a female, and despite the underlying themes of a minotaur being violence, child murder, strength, and muscles. I segue into how unlike bulls, cow are perceived as mothers. That they are the major source of milk in human culture, and that idyllic depictions of them in a field usually depict calves frolicking nearby, yet the minotaur kills and eats children.

I finish and there is a long pause.

"Urban, this is fetish art." and she takes me to the artist's twitter and god dammit it's fetish art, not a bold statement on cultural perceptions of women and violence throughout history. I have been tricked again.

bubble (pixiv51545000)

always had a fantasy about hitchhiking on the side of the road and being picked up by a big bear or a pretty trans girl who's pretending to be nice but actually just wants to get me isolated and alone so they can fuck my cunt. and i can't do anything about it cuz they're my only ride and we're in the middle of nowhere, so ive gotta listen to them and pull my pants down and bend over the hood of their car so they can use me like a toy. maybe they're surprised i have a pussy, but they're not disappointed; if anything, they're extra turned on now. they don't even have the decency to pull out or use a condom; they cum while their cock is pressed up against my cervix, and force me to rub my own dick until i cum around them.

then i have no choice but to go sit in the car for the rest of the ride with cum dripping out of my wet little cunt.

ughh imagining getting knocked up with eggs but it being slow…

i feel each and every single egg pass through my dripping cunt, pushing my walls apart and pressing up against my cervix, where it seems like ages for it to pop into my womb… all i can do is keep my legs spread open as i desperately whine for it to go faster, but there’s no relief for me, my clit throbbing and my mind completely fogged over as i pant, the sensentsrion of it all being too much for my little body..

whatever is breeding me is cooing me by petting my head and playing with my tits to give me some stimulation, but i can’t cum or that would make it only take longer for the egg to get to my womb, and i have a whole clutch i need to carry! i need to just be a good incubator and edge until i’m properly knocked up…

when an egg finally does pop through into my womb i let out a cry of relief and shake, only for another egg to come down and start the process all over again <3

It's summer, and I'm at the beach. I came with my friends but they're all scared of the deep water so I've waded out much farther than them. The water is almost up to my tits. I'm having fun just being out here, bobbing up and down with the waves.

Something bumps into me and I stumble, almost going under the water, but a pair of strong hands grabs my waist and keeps me from falling. "Whoa there, sorry for bumping into you".

I turn around to see I'm in the arms of a tall man, who looks like he could have ten, twenty years on me. My back is pressed against his bare chest. I blush. "It's no problem", I say, "thanks for catching me". I try to move forward but his hands tighten slightly. "Um," I laugh nervously, "you can let go of me now."

He doesn't say anything. One of his hands snakes around my waist until he's holding me in place with his whole arm, and the other one slides down my belly, underneath the water.

"What are you doing!?" I try to tear myself away but his grip is too strong.

"Shhh." He whispers in my ear. "Do you want everyone to know what we're doing?"

His hand slides into my bikini bottoms and I whimper as he fondles my pussy. He strokes my lips back and forth, just rubbing me with his big, calloused hand.

"Stop," I whisper. This time he doesn't respond. He dips his middle finger in between my lips and teases around my opening. He trails his finger up, stopping just short of my clit, and drags it back down. Then he does it again. And again. Each time he stops torturously close to my clit, only to stop at the last second. With each pass heat builds in my cunt, and shame rises up in my throat.

Then finally, without warning, he touches my clit. I hold back a gasp as he begins to rub it in circles. By now I'm fighting to keep my hips still. His hands are skilled, and my pussy is starting to throb with pleasure. He chuckles lowly. "You like that baby? You like it when I rub your little clitty?". I can only whimper in response.

His hand starts getting faster. I barely notice his other hand leaving my waist until suddenly two fingers slip inside me, and I have to stop myself from crying out. He strokes the inside of my pussy and immediately finds a spot that makes me clench down around his fingers. He keeps rubbing that spot with laser precision, working my clit hard and fast, and soon my knees go weak as I cum hard.

"There you go baby," he says in a mockingly sweet tone, "your first rapegasm. Wasn't that nice?" I squeeze my eyes shut. It didn't mean anything. It's just a biological response, it doesn't mean I liked getting raped.

His hands slip out of my swimsuit and for a second I think he's going to leave me alone. But then he hooks one finger around the crotch and pulls it to the side, exposing my cunt under the water. "Don't worry sweetheart. You'll enjoy this too".

Something blunt presses against my opening and I only have a moment to process before he shoves his cock into my pussy. My jaw falls open. I've never been stretched like this before. Sure I have toys at home, but none of them are as big as this stranger's cock, filling me up like nothing else ever had. Then he starts moving, and my mind goes blank.

He fucks me in short, fast strokes, keeping his cock buried as deep in me as he can. He keeps hitting something deep inside that I distantly think is my cervix, but that can't be right. I've always read that it hurt to hit your cervix, but this feels... good. Tears run down my face as the thought hits me. It feels good. His cock battering my poor little cervix is making me see stars. I find myself bucking back into him, unable to stop my hips from seeking more pleasure. Then his hand finds my clit again, starts rubbing it furiously, and I'm gone. My pussy spasms around his cock, pleasure coursing through me. If we weren't underwater I'd be sure I squirted.

He grunts and stills inside me, and his cock pulses as he cums right up against my cervix. I whimper pathetically as I realize what that means for me. I'm not on birth control. Never have been.

After he's emptied his balls inside of me he pulls his softening cock out of my pussy, and politely repositions my bikini bottoms. He gives me a light peck on the cheek and whispers, "you're welcome baby". Then wades back to shore.

I stay in the water for a while, staring into space and trying to process what just happened. In the end I just rejoin my friends and finish my beach day. I don't see the man again; he must have left after he was done with me. We play around in the sand, get ice cream as the sun sets, and eventually say our goodbyes and head home.

And the moment I'm alone in my room, I shove my hand down my pants and try to pretend it's his.

CW: Non-Con, Aphrodisiac nectar/sap, Plant Monster

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You knew this was a mistake.

Hiking—venturing into unknown trails—was definitely not something you would consider, much less actually do. But your friends, however well-intentioned they were, insisted that you needed to go out and explore, venture outside of your comfort zone.

And so, in order to please them, you booked a guide (nothing drastic, really). It was apparently beginner-friendly, with beautiful scenery and ‘untold’ sights—a glorified leisurely stroll. It sounded perfect for you, a wonderful plan, so you went.

It was nice, manageable until you somehow—miraculously, stupidly—got lost, strayed from the group long enough that they left you in the dust. Finding them should’ve been easy; there were paved trails and distinct signs, yet you managed to get even more lost.

You didn’t know how long you’d been wandering, but you were hungry, thirsty, and tired; you just wanted to rest. How did your friends let you go to this with your incredibly poor sense of direction? How did you let yourself go?

You paused at the sound of rushing water, concluding it was a good idea to follow (you were dying for a sip of water.) It didn’t take long for you to find the source—the walk was not long at all, as if you were already heading in the right direction anyway as if something was already luring you there before the sound.

You stopped at a gate, seemingly golden and decorated with roses. It appears to be well-kept, no tarnish to be seen. Why exactly is there a random gate in the middle of nowhere?

With just the slightest touch, the gate creaked open (you could’ve hopped over easily if it didn’t), and you, with hesitance and confusion, entered. It was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before: a breathtaking garden full of flowers and trees filled with leaves and fruits. It was beautiful. The subtle scent of fruit and nectar only lured you closer.

The waterfall was the first thing you reached. You cupped your hands into a bowl to collect the water, drinking until you were no longer parched. Then you continued, admiring the colorful plants along the way.

You could feel your fatigue leaving you with each step, with each breath of air, yet the deeper you entered the oddly enchanting garden, the sweeter the air became—enticing. You didn’t hear the gate close behind you, too entranced by the view.

Your stomach grumbled, and all you could do was comply with your hunger, plucking a succulent fruit from one of the trees. The fruit was odd, unknown to you; it should’ve made you pause—sunk caution into your bones—but it didn’t. You were hungry before, but now, with fruit in hand, you were starving.

Your teeth pierced its flesh, its juices sliding down your throat as you devoured it. It was mouthwatering, a taste you had never known but now can never forget. You reached for another, and another, and another until you were full—stomach feeling as if it’s one fruit away from bursting. You took a seat, leaning against the trunk of the tree and resting.

You were worried about how you would get back, but you figured (in an attempt to stay positive) that they would eventually send out a search party and find you. After all, you found this place pretty easily, and you couldn't have strayed that far, right?

Your eyelids felt heavy; even with the sun still up, you felt exhaustion weighing on you. A small nap wouldn’t hurt.

You still felt so tired, not knowing you had already slept for jours. You felt warm, limbs heavy, and eyes feeling glued shut—wielded together with exhaustion and enervation. You didn’t move or shift; even if your mind was half awake, you couldn't.

That had a prickling thought of panic rising inside your brain, the rapid beating of your heart and the quickening of your breath being the only indication of your growing distress and anxiety. You couldn’t quite feel your surroundings, your sense of touch dulled, and the grass underneath you was not even a tickle.

A slight pressure met your lips, parting them delicately before slipping inside, stuffing your mouth full with its soft presence. A smooth substance glided down your throat; its taste was sweet and intoxicating. You gulped it down with no resistance, mind growing hazier with each drop.

The muscles in your limbs loosened, relaxing them, making you malleable and compliant. The heaviness faded into something else. You could feel yourself growing hot, arousal pooling in your underwear.

Something wrapped around your body, tugging at your clothes and removing them—taking your soaked panties and leaving you exposed. The thing inside your mouth slid out with a pop, retreating.

Then it—whatever ‘it’ is—raised you in the air, holding you by your legs, blood rushing to your head. You should’ve been alarmed, but with a brain full of cotton, all you could focus on was the throbbing of your cunt. You pried your eyes open, petals filling your vision. Vines enveloped you, blossoming flowers adorning it as it held you upside down, wrists tied together.

It spread your legs, one vine poking and prodding at your folds, soaking in your arousal. More vines slithered to your chest, fondling your breasts and curling around your nipples.

You squirmed, breathy moans leaving you. The vines continued, some slipping past your folds, one pressing against your clit while the other worked you open. You never felt anything like this before, moaning and whimpering for more.

It slipped out, having you clench around nothing with a whine. A large white bud blossomed in front of you, revealing (something you would’ve questioned more had the nectar not done its job) a flowery cock. It’s throbbing and warm as it enters your hole, fucking you with vigor and filling you with its sap, mouth falling open in a cry.

Another stuffs your mouth, and you greedily drink the liquid leaking from it, sucking and slurping with hot pleasure coursing your body. It pounds into you, its cocks hitting all the right spots as the vines fondle your breasts.

You scream when your climax hits you, the pleasure overwhelming as your body shakes and shudders, the flowery cocks following and spilling its seed inside you.

It seems the other plants in the garden grow curious, crowding you, feeling you all over, tasting your cum with its vines. They all take turns, another plant cock fucking you once the other ones are done cumming in you.

It repositions you, bending you over as some enter your ass, others shoving more vines down your throat. It’s all too much, making you cum too quickly from having the feeling of it in all your holes.

You have its sap leaking out of you, drooling around another cock as it takes you. It has you cuming over and over again, breeding you as your mind fizzles out from it, only caring about being fucked and filled.

This is all you are good for; this is where you belong, and it thinks so, too

thinking about a marble statue being possessed by a lustful spirit or something like that, pinning you down easily with cold, rough hands that cut into your skin if you try to fight back too much. empty, expressionless eyes peering into your soul as it rips the clothes off your body. it doesnt mean to be so rough but its hard to have precise motor function when youre made of marble, so when it grabs at your soft, pliable flesh, its all too easy for it to leave bruises behind, making you feel everywhere it touches for several minutes after it moves on to the next tempting spot.

maybe you can watch as the spirit makes its carved cock grow into a monstrous stone dildo that you just know is gonna fucking hurt before it even starts to stretch you open around it. and when it finally does force its way inside you, all you can do is gasp and squirm at the cold, unyielding intrusion. wonder if youd be too shocked to cry at that point, surely it hurts to have something so stiff force its way soo deep inside you, even if your perverted hole is soaked enough that it slides in smoothly. do you think youd hear the creak of its nonexistant joints over your desperate whines? do you think when the spirit cums and is satisfied, itd just... leave the statue just like that, pinning you in place with its morphed cock and heavy hands? while you just writhe there, humiliated by the prying eyes of those who pass by? what do you think people would think of you? that youre some kind of pervert that couldnt help but fuck yourself on this statue? or do you think theyd believe your story, that you just suddenly got pounced on by it? do you think theyd try to help you, or take advantage of your position by jerking off onto the both of you?

much to think about

Late night kinky thoughts let's GOOO!

You know that idea in fantasy or sci fi where there's like portals that allow you to be played with no matter where you or the other person are? Turning a cutie into a fleshlight for someone to jack off into even if they're just walking down the street, feeling themselves getting stretched and filled by someone fucking the portal connected to their holes.

The twist on it I can't help but think about is some cute little thing getting one of those made for a friend or partner to use. As a gift to help them unwind and relax, a little bit of kink play with those they trust. A fresh flightlight attached to their hole. But...when they get home from the store they can't find the package.

They have the receipt, sure. And they swore it was with them on the way back home. But somewhere in that trip it must've fallen out of their bag. Maybe they should retrace their steps to look for it? Check the trains lost and found? Did they leave it at the coffee shop they popped in to?

And then they feel it. Some stranger's tongue tracing their hole. Struggling with that unexpected sensation. Someone found their toy...and theyre using it. They have to find them soon and get it back!

That poor cutie going from rushing around retracing their steps as that damned tongue refuses to stop. To begging the workers on the train and at the coffee shop if they remember anyone with the package as they feel those fingers pushing into them and exploring. To covering their mouth in the bathroom stall struggling to remain sane as that massive cock so much bigger than their friend or partner stretches them to their absolute limit, using who knows how many loads of cum already pumped into them lube to core them out and ruin them. Slowly accepting that this is their fate now, to be a toy for some unknown person to use~

I know I said I wouldn’t explain further abt portals being drawn On The Hole > portals drawn in panties but hear me out. One, imagine wearing underwear anywhere ever. And then get rid of it. Then imagine getting pumped full of cum anywhere and everywhere and having absolutely no underwear on to catch the load that drips down the insides of your legs as you attempt to keep everyone around you from becoming aware that you’re getting slutted out by something who isn’t even in the room with you. I rest my case