Been Going Crazy Lately About Being Your Average, Plucky, Caving Adventurer. Down Into The Dungeons To

A centaur with a special harness and restraints made for you so you can swing around underneath her and bounce up and down on her cock while she trots around doing her tasks

When you got hired on as a Centaur Caretaker, you thought it was going to be things like mucking stalls and maybe helping them dress or something. What you didn’t expect was that you were meant to help “relieve” one. You got to pick and see if you click. If not, then you were paid for the time getting to know them, but not hired. You felt weird about it at first, but then you saw her.

It didn’t take long for you two to click, and honestly, most of the time it felt more like you were dating than you being her Caretaker. You even sometimes came over just to hangout and spend time together. When it was time for you two to finally sleep together, it was fantastic. Her cock filled you up perfectly and you felt like your mind was melting. The next time, things were a little bit different.

“Please? I want to really feel you bounce on me,” she begged, looking at you with those dark brown eyes that you have come to love so dearly.

“Well, okay,” you finally relented.

The two of you got the swing on her, and you wiggled yourself into it. The head of her huge, flared cock teased your wet cunt as she secured your hands to her sides with small cuffs so you wouldn’t fall. She started trotting, cramming her fat cock into you with one thrust. You started whining and moaning immediately, rocking back on her, desperate for more.

You didn’t even care when she started doing chores, her cock still slamming in and out of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as she stretched you, her cock bullying into your cervix, her precum slicking your insides. You could feel her throbbing as her climax approached, making you clench eagerly around her. You wanted to feel her cum in you so badly that it didn’t even matter when she went outside, continuing her tasks with her cock buried inside of you for everyone to see.

In fact, you started begging for her to cum. To fill you up. It didn’t matter that everyone would hear and see you. You just wanted her to use you like the toy you were meant to be.

the wizard's new toy

cnc, free use, somnophilia

imagine a depraved wizard trapping the nerve endings of your genitals in a magical fleshlight; it’s essentially a portal to your sweet little hole that they can use whenever and however they want. you still feel all of it, and it takes you by surprise every time they decide to play with their toy. they carry it around with them everywhere, and no matter how far apart the two of you are, they always have full access to the hole that belongs to them.

you could be sleeping, and they’d use the fleshlight to wake you up by gently licking and sucking all the spots that make you go wild, teasing you until you’re fully awake, making you reach the edge of an orgasm first thing in the morning. or you could be running errands around town, or out with your friends, and they’d fondle and finger you before fucking you good and proper. you’d blush and try to close your legs as if that’d stop them; you’re completely helpless against their power. no matter how hard you try to hide the fact that you’re being railed within an inch of your life, you can feel your arousal building and your desperation getting worse and worse. 

some days they simply use the toy for their own pleasure, completely ignoring your needs, before tucking it away, leaving you needy and leaking. sometimes they make you cum again and again because the toy feels so wonderful clenching around them, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it…

Who Knows, Who Cares? (Tentacle Monster) [F/?]

Featured Characters: Female human and a tentacle monster of indeterminate gender. Both are adults.

Description: Agatha has figured out how to conjure an inter-dimensional glory hole and enjoys the variety of monster dicks that come through. On one particular night, she is visited by a tentacle which treats her to an unexpected ending. Contains: Magical Glory Holes, Tentacles, Ovipositor, Egg-Laying, Stomach Bulge, Aphrodisiacs, Masturbation, Sex Toys.

Completion Date: November 7th, 2023

Word Count: 1609

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There really should have been a warning provided about how addictive the spell would be. It was rare that an evening went by where Agatha didn’t activate the portal in all its brightly glowing, pink glory. The position of the other side was random among countless dimensions, its runes designed to be translated for whatever horny beast it appeared before. A hole with unmistakable purpose.

Agatha had made herself comfortable, propped up against her multitude of pillows as she lay in bed pumping a thick toy deep into her cunt. She had learned to loosen herself up a bit before summoning; there was no telling the size of what came through.

The towel Agatha had laid out beneath her was already slightly messy with lube. Wet, filthy noises mingled with her moans, her pussy squeezing around the toy. It was far from enough; she needed the feeling of some faceless creature’s cock throbbing inside her. The heat. The cum. The knowledge that whoever was on the other side only cared about getting themself off. A kind lover was great, but sometimes she craved to just be fucking used.

Needy and whimpering, Agatha used her free hand to trace the spell’s sigil in the air. Her room was bathed in magenta light, flaring as the circle came into existence on the mattress between her spread thighs. She waited a few moments as she continued to fuck herself and bite her lower lip with impatience.

“Please…please…anyone,” she begged, sweat glistening in the garish glow.

There was movement at the center of the circle. Agatha watched as a light blue, shimmering, translucent tentacle slowly began to emerge. It was long, lined with shallow ridges starting at the tip which faded to smoothness about eight inches down. She could see thin, faintly glowing purple veins just beneath the fleshy surface, pulsating rhythmically with the creature’s heartbeat.

Agatha softly gasped, removing the toy from herself and tossing it aside.

“Hello, gorgeous,” she said.

The tentacle felt out her foot, traced her ankle, and began caressing its way up her calf. She trembled as it slid over her thigh and trailed slime. It explored boldly, working inward until it found her pussy. The tip ran up and down the wet, twitching line of it, teasing her folds and making her achingly empty hole quiver.

“There it is,” she encouraged, though she knew she went unheard. “Mmm, there you go.”

Agatha expected to be swiftly filled as was typical of tentacles. She was used to such roughly-pumping appendages. For one to finish only for another to come through circle. Sometimes leading to being stretched around a deeply writhing mass of multiple; always leading to ending up leaking cum.

Instead, she watched as the end of the tentacle opened up into a sort of small, toothless, slick-dripping mouth. It latched onto her clit seconds later. Her head tossed back in time with a sharply sucked-in breath that released alongside a moan. A tight, warm, sucking sensation had the whole of her lower body shaking.

“Ngh—what are…fuck!”

The tentacle was relentless, ravaging Agatha’s clit. A tingling sensation spread out where it was attached. She felt the pleasure growing as it traveled down her legs and up her torso. It was a near numbness to all but where it mattered; she was hyperaware of her cunt. Leaking, twitching ceaselessly, on fire. She moaned louder and distantly wondered—but hardly cared—what the hell was in the tentacle’s fluids.

With her weak fingers gripping the sheets, Agatha lost herself to the intensity. Her hips squirmed and bucked. She cried out mindlessly, without words. Getting her clit sucked had never felt this good before. The constant action and whatever influence she was under had her head swimming and floating.

Agatha convulsed as she came, clit pounding in its confines. The tentacle continued to suck. A delirious giggling started to break up her wild moans. Waves of a prolonged orgasm crashed into her until she arrived at a second, near-blinding peak. She wailed, feeling fluid gushing from her, soaking the towel beneath her. It was only then that the tentacle released.

Panting and whimpering, Agatha tried to right herself in her own mind while her body screamed for more. Her clit felt more swollen than it ever had been, hot and throbbing madly. Her pussy was in much the same state as the last of her release dribbled out of her. The break didn’t last long. Seconds later, the tentacle was teasing aside her sensitive folds to find her hole.

“Ohhhh…oh, my—GOD!”

The word was punched out of her as the tentacle slammed in. Her pussy took it easily. Almost greedily; sucking it in and squeezing enough to practically conform to its shape. Her legs snapped open wider despite not needing to accommodate a body between them. It was a reflex. Instinct. Silent begging for a deep fucking. The tentacle quivered before beginning to thrust.

Agatha moaned as she felt the tentacle swell slightly inside her and increase its girth. The ridges ground into her as her insides pressed against it. Her heart hammered in her chest, echoed in the pulsing of her stretched walls. A mix of her fluids and the creature’s made a mess of her hole, audibly spurting from her with every plunge.

The pace became crazed. A rough, quick pounding. Agatha whined, breaths gasping from her open mouth. The frantic undulation of the tentacle was mesmerizing. She watched it reel back and slam forward, oozing along its entire length with some natural lubrication. Her pussy clenched, milking it; she needed that cum. The creature began to throb hard inside her, the veins glowing brighter.

But all at once, as the tentacle fully sheathed itself and stilled, Agatha knew something was different. Round shapes were visible in the inner organ as they travelled along the slick, twitching length. She barely had time to process it before the first popped into her. Eggs, her hazy mind supplied. The thing was laying eggs inside her. It should have scared and disgusted her, but it felt amazing.

Agatha’s gaze fixated on the monstrous appendage lodged in her cunt as she was filled with countless eggs. She could feel each one moving through the tentacle before joining the rest in a rapidly growing mass. There was no end to them in sight. Breathing hard, she watched her stomach start to bulge with them.

“Fuuuuuuck!” she moaned, eyes rolling from the alien sensation.

More and more eggs pressed in and filled whatever space they could find, clearly an amount that another of the creature’s species was designed to take. What did it know, or care, about human limits? Agatha’s belly distended; round, heavy and strained. She moaned and shook with ecstasy, but the mounting danger won over her greedy pussy.

“S-stop can’t—ahhh, take anymore!” she cried, doing her best to reach for the tentacle and possibly pull it out.

Luckily, the creature seemed spent. With a few final twitches, it slithered out of her. Agatha panted, half hoping that she would feel that delicious mouth on her clit again. But instead, the magenta light faded.

The tentacle was gone.

Agatha lay there for a while with her stomach full of eggs, whimpering as they shifted with her heaving breaths. They needed to come out. But first, she needed to cum. Her used body ached for it; the monster aphrodisiac pumping through her was the likely culprit, keeping that incessant pulse in her cunt despite her situation.

She reached for her vibrator that had miraculously stayed on her bed through her thrashing. A buzzing sound filled the air as she turned it on, angling it around her belly to rest on her still-pounding clit. The pleasure was a shock and she choked on her moan.

Agatha’s thighs trembled, pouring sweat. She gasped as something moved inside her. One of the eggs pushed through her passage, squeezing out of her hole with a wet pop. And damn did it feel good coming out. A second followed it, making Agatha whine. She continued to tease her clit, moaning as more eggs parted her twitching folds and gathered on the bed.

Heat engulfed Agatha’s pussy; everything—inside and out—throbbed hard. She had been filled to bulging with cum before, reveled in feeling copious seed dripping down her legs as she limped to the bathroom to deal with it. But nothing would ever rival these eggs; the stretch of them as her hole’s ecstatic twitching squeezed them out. They started to come faster, lining up so one could begin its exit right after the last.

“Mmmm! Keep coming…keep coming,” she chanted, grinding the vibrator harder against her clit. “Fuck, fuck—ahhhh!”

Nothing could have prepared Agatha. As she came, a flood of eggs escaped her. Quick, rhythmic expulsions in time with the rapid clenching and releasing of her insides. Her hips rose off the bed from the sheer, intense pleasure of the sensation, heels digging into the mattress. The eggs landed beneath her, plopping wetly onto the saturated towel. She kept cumming, a string of orgasms brought on by that sweet stretch.

Agatha dropped, empty—as far as she knew. She lay among a mess of fluids and monster eggs, her stomach having returned to its normal size. Her body still buzzed with the small amount of aphrodisiac still in her system and she mindlessly pawed at her sopping cunt, jolting with pleasured aftershocks and moaning weakly.

Somewhere in the haze, she resolved to find a way to make the spell locate the portal somewhere of her choosing. Now that she had just begun a list of creatures she wanted to revisit, after all.

End

Masterlist

Imagine that middle aged coworker you keep leading on gets ahold of a portal pussy and connects it to you.

He'd start slow, teasing your little slit in the break room, watching you squirm in your seat across the room. Big rough fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. Increasing his assault gradually until you have to leave the room. He follows you into the restroom, where you've locked yourself into a stall. You couldn't help but hide in there to try and get yourself off. Your cunt practically dripping from his teasing. Your need outweighing the confusion and fear from what's happening to you. Your slick fingers make frantic little circles around your swollen clit, and you feel his fingers return, thick and rough as they feel around for your entrance. You whimper as they push in, both at once, stretching you too fast. He doesn't waste any time finding your g spot, making your eyes roll back as he rubs it. Your rubbing gets sloppier and more desperate. Hes unrelenting, picking up speed as he pushes you closer to the edge. Your legs shake, whimpering pathetically. You're so close, when suddenly, he stops. You whine and try to replace him with your own fingers. You rub and finger yourself for what feels like an hour and can't get yourself back to the edge, can't reach the places he could. You leave the bathroom defeated, with an ache in your lower half you can't seem to make go away.

He fully intends to pay you back for all the blue balls you've given him

Cum so thick it doesn't leak out.

YESSS god I love that honestly. fucking something and when it cums in you you can feel the Pressure, it's so thick, and slow, oozing in; maybe they hold you upside down so that each drop makes sure to coat all the inside, and when they finally pull out, you expect to drip and drool but... nothing. When you lay down you can feel it shift but it takes hours, so slow and inexorable. Every single drop is getting absorbed.

I really like your transformation work

would you do a doll transformation one?

maybe you encounter a kind fae but accidentally insult them, so you offer to remedy it with your body and you get turned into a doll

or an orc finds an abandoned toy and decides to try and fix it up idk i really like terato

Kabr0z Writes episode 52: Doll

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: transformation; dubcon; noncon; immobilisation; loss of agency; PIV sex; doll transformation

A/N: there's one problem with fucking a doll: dolls are rigid and generally speaking, quite smooth in the nether regions... Although, rubber solves most problems.

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Your teacup clattered to the ground. The forest around you, so previously verdant and full of life, was dead and dark, the illusion fading, showing you the real. The toymaker stood up from his seat, still holding his teacup in a many-fingered hand.

"Don't you know it's rude to point?"

You don't remember pointing at him, or anyone really, all you could do was back away from the oncoming Fae, trying your best to apologise. "I am sorry, I hadn't realised, I'm sure there's some way for me to make it up to you?"

The toymaker smiled, showing far too many teeth. "I'm sure there is... Hold still, my doll"

You stopped backing away. That's when you realised your mistake. You'd told it to call you Tess. You'd just answered to a name that isn't the one you'd made safe for yourself.

You tried to run. Your feet wouldn't move. Your body stood, statue-like as the toymaker approached and started running his fingers over your skin.

Where he touched felt cold, you could only move your eyes to look. You couldn't see your flesh transmuting to painted cedar, your bones to threaded metal rods. You could feel your joints stiffening, turning to hinges and ball joints which he delicately squirted a little oil into before testing the smooth movement.

The wood spread across you, replacing flesh, changing bone. It reached your heart. A keyhole formed in the middle of your back, a clockwork motor replacing where your heart was. You could feel the mainspring, loose and idle. Lethargy flooded you. You couldn't move at all as your eyes became glass and your brain turned to straw. Your thoughts clouded. The fear left you, the memory of who you used to be becoming more distant. The toymaker stood in front of you, looking over his work as you stood in your dress, arms held slightly away from your body. It stepped around you, grasping the key in your back and giving it a few brisk turns.

The governor in your chest started up, balance spring setting a perfect rhythm, the faint ticking echoing into your head, clearing your thoughts. Your limbs loosened, life filling them.

You ran. The toymaker laughed as you went, until he was out of sight. Behind a tree, you took stock. Wooden, now. You'll probably want to avoid naked flames in future. Your hands slid across your body. Touching your glass eyes didn't hurt, which was a plus, all your joints worked, but you could feel the mainspring in your chest getting weaker as it lost tension.

You stretched to reach it, reaching around your back, sticking out your wooden chest as you did. You fell to your knees, fingers scrambling to turn the key as it ticked down moments.

The spring ran out. The governor stopped and so did you.

Your arms stopped in place, joints stiffening. Your thoughts stopped too, calming to a stupid placidity. You saw the toymaker coming towards you, felt his hand fix your hair, heard his footsteps as he walked away, continuing down the path.

Time didn't have meaning any more. You knelt on the ground, your petticoat was getting dirty, but you couldn't move.

A figure approached. A big lumbering man carrying a club. His green skin covered by by furs. The orc saw you, walking over. He grabbed you in one hand, lifting you by an arm. He looked into your eyes. Without clockwork power, you couldn't speak.

The orc pushed a hand up your skirts. You felt his hand brush against your rubber cunt, slipping a thick finger between the moulded lips and into the hole. Despite being wood, metal and rubber, you felt yourself producing fluid. His hand came away wet, a thin film of your pussy juice on his finger.

He ripped off your skirts, exposing your finely carved thighs, shining white wood exposed to the outside. Your body hung limp from his hands as he pushed his cock into you.

He thrust into you, holding you at his waist as he did, using your body as your head lolled and your limbs hung limp. You could feel yourself stretching around him, feeling so close, but unable to move, to even make a peep.

His pumping got harder, fucking you harder. You felt him twitching and throbbing in you before pumping out a load of his cum, grinding his hips into yours, forcing himself as deep as he could.

Pleasure flooded your mind, the world reducing to hazy shapes as the orc filled you. The euphoria only deepening as he slung your body over his shoulder, your leaking cunt dripping his cum onto the ground behind him as he carried you off. You were made to be owned.

After all, the purpose of a doll is to be played with

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Thanks for the request, anon! Hopefully it's everything you wanted

If you have a request, please send a DM or an ask, and I'll see what I can make out of it! There's a bit of a wait, bit it's still projected to be less than a month (though I can't promise how long that'll last)

"my son turned out fine"

ma'am, your son has been dead for years. i'm the demon that pilots his corpse, and he's fucking gone. you might have broken him, raised him wrong and made him confused and fragile and hollow, but i cored him. i slithered for years through the dry ventricles in his empty heart, i fantasized with his tired brain, i coiled around his soul and seduced him and owned him. the second he got away from you and could finally stop struggling, he practically gave himself to me. being dead on his feet already, it was deliciously easy for him to accept the death i promised him. i ripped apart everything that made your son himself, keeping what suits me and forgetting what doesn't, and i wear what he left behind like a favourite outfit. his body's not even recognisable, either- not only has it been used, claimed, and marked by lovers you'd call dangerous, but it's been estrogenised, changed so thoroughly that the tattered scraps of his soul don't recognise it as his anymore. because it's not, because it never really was. because it's mine.

So within two days of each other, Fox News writes an article comparing aromanticism and asexuality to pedophilia, and then Matt Walsh releases a video saying asexuality is a mental illness and asexuals are tricking teenagers into having depression.

Not sure what’s going on right now over in Conservative World, but it’s a hell of wild U-turn for them to suddenly switch from “Oh no! The left is sexualizing our children!” to “Oh no! The left is asexualizing our children!”

Oh man your ‘wearing’ stuff is so good just the idea of getting tied up to, not just a normal centaur but a shire centaur 👀👀 they’re so big that most humans don’t even reach shoulders so you better hope you don’t get knocked up but with him galloping around, his cock will almost defiantly push all the way through to your womb and make sure that none of that cum spills

Well, obviously! Especially with how horsecock functions. That head flaring is no joke, and that’s a solid way to ensure that absolutely no cum is escaping the centaur’s poor toy. It’s not like there would be an opportunity for the cum to really escape in any meaningful way, regardless, not with how I’m tied up beneath him. Impaled, overstimulated to the point of exhaustion, limp, barely even able to vocalize as he fills me yet again - I lost count a while ago of how many times he’s cum, but he shows no signs of needing a break anytime soon regardless of how full I’m getting, regardless of how tired I am, regardless of my begging. Practically no hope of not being knocked up at that point, huh?

monster with cum that 'sets' so your body can absorb it, leavin you walking around with a heavy, just slightly wobbly belly as the hard jelly like cum sits inside you...