Cum So Thick It Doesn't Leak Out.

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.

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 up around the waist and lifts him over it

he's kicking and gasping, his arms bound behind his back, saying that it's too big and he can't possibly take it, but his dom just shoves him down until the tip pops past the tight ring of his cunt, and then just... lets go

sub yelling and whining as he drops down onto the dildo, unable to kick free or get loose, gravity meaning he's forced down onto the fat cock splitting him open, and then once he IS down, the whole thing crammed so deeply inside him he feels dizzy and pained with it, he can't move, can only just rock on it, can't touch himself

and his dom grins at him and just leaves him to it for a while while he gets on with something else

"My daughter is fine!" Your son wants to be pumped full of eggs against his will

i have no idea how you’d even make this into anything but i’ve been watching a david attenborough documentary for class and learning about how some plants will imitate female wasps so males will try to mate with them and end up inadvertently spreading their pollen and i just think that’s so funny

Imagine being a pretty little dryad, disguised as a beautiful flowering tree to help hide yourself from some unruly satyrs. It was only camouflage, your body was still there, but it kept you safe.

You’re having a nice time, frolicking with your friends when suddenly you’re picked up by a wasp hybrid. His cock rubs agaisnt your bare cunt desperately, and before long he’s deep inside of you.

Slick sap falls from your thighs, your tummy already being filled with his eggs as he pounds into you. He lands by his hive, and you’re quickly surrounded by other males who are desperate to lay their eggs in a pretty female wasp.

It’s then, to your delight, you discover the flowering tree you disguised yourself as looked eerily similar to a female from their species.

Looks like you’re in for a fun night.

fantasizing about wearing a short skirt the next time i ride the train during rush hour, so a perverted commuter behind me can lift my skirt and grope my ass. when he goes to pull aside my panties, he'll find out i'm not wearing any, so he'll stick their fingers in my already-wet cunt while whispering in my ear how much of a pathetic needy slut i am to be acting so lewd in public. my pussy will only leak more, so he'll take it as a cue to back me into the corner of the crowded train, shielding me from view as he pulls out his cock. he'll fuck me in the moving train, while whispering threats of finding out where i live if i go to the police. as his cock goes in and out of my needy pussy, he'll lifts my shirt to grope and pinch my tits and nipples. right before his stop, he'll fill me up with his hot sticky seed and place a couple of bills inside my bra. then, he'll get off the train as if nothing ever happened while his fresh cum is dripping down my thighs and onto the floor.

Monster that fills you with a mating plug so the cum doesn't leak out

yessss I do love mating plugs ngl but consider this; a mating plug where only the mate can dissolve it, so they can go back in and keep refilling and refilling until you're all full and sloshing but when it finally comes to laying they drag their heels so you have a tunnel packed full of eggs squirming and begging for them to dissolve the plug so you can finally get them all out but they love rubbing your over-full twitching belly and watching you howl in pleasure so much they make you wait and wait and wait

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.

###################################

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

######################################

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)

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

-

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

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...