[pre-story]Hey all! Another story, brought to you by one of my eternally generous $25+ patrons! He came to me with an intriguing concept, and I just had to run with it.I hope you enjoy! There's definitely more to come, so look forward to it!
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Beach Body, Part One
There was something strange up ahead, a dark, formless lump lying on the sand. Joseph’s pace slowed as he drew closer, until he dropped out of his jogging stride entirely, peering curiously at the shape as he walked slowly closer. Mist hung in the cool morning air, especially here, right on the shores of the loch, making it hard to figure out exactly what he was looking at. He tugged the earbuds out of his ears as he drew closer, too focused on the mystery thing to enjoy Queen properly. His mind generated possibilities, only to reject them almost as quickly as they formed, it definitely wasn’t a dead body, or a piece of driftwood, or an old tire…
As he approached it, his confusion only grew. “What the…” He muttered. It was a dark brown, and long, nearly as long as he was tall, and flat, like a deflated miniature blimp, but with little flaps attached at one end. He bent his knees, crouching down to get a closer look. It had a long slit running all the way down it, lying open on the sand. It looked almost like wetsuit material on the inside but the outside was... fuzzy? Curiosity got the best of him. He reached out, curiously touching the thing. Wet leather?
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Monday, November 27, 2017
Bibiana's Bargain, P1.
[pre-story]Finally getting to work on actual commissions! Well, at least a little. This is the commission I started on months ago that's been on hold while I work on musings and shorts and such. It was basically like this when I came back to it, I just had to tweak a few things here and there and add a paragraph on the end to cap it off nicely as a 'part one'. Very convenient. No sex just yet, but definitely sexiness, involving a milfy shortstack goblin and a sexy futa demoness.
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted]
Commissioned by the eternally patient Onikumomaru. Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
Bibiana's Bargain, P. 1
There are points in one’s life where one must stop and ask themselves how they arrived at them. As she lay there, hog-tied and helpless, while her master began to chant in some unknowable tongue, the mystical lines and symbols drawn on the cold stone floor with black chalk beginning to glow with a sickly purple light, Bibiana found herself at one such point.
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted]
Commissioned by the eternally patient Onikumomaru. Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
Bibiana's Bargain, P. 1
There are points in one’s life where one must stop and ask themselves how they arrived at them. As she lay there, hog-tied and helpless, while her master began to chant in some unknowable tongue, the mystical lines and symbols drawn on the cold stone floor with black chalk beginning to glow with a sickly purple light, Bibiana found herself at one such point.
Monday, November 20, 2017
Ghost Story
[pre-story]So, I wanted to get this out in time for Halloween, but writer's block is a bitch, so here we are. I wanted to write something about a exhibition with a ghost, and one of the ghosts that came to mind was Danny Phantom... The rest kinda happened. I got stuck for like a WEEK on the climax, I don't know why... Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I may continue it at some point if there's a demand for it.
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Ghost Story
“Ugh, just shut up, Manson!” Star insisted, scowling and stamping her foot on the wet tile floor of the girl’s locker room shower, a gesture that would have been more… impactful, were the little blonde girl not completely naked, her lithe cheerleader body glistening wet, perky, hand-filling breasts barely jiggling at the movement.
“No, I’m serious!” Sam rebutted as her hands roamed her teenage body, washing away a layer of soap. The raven-haired goth girl was in a rare makeup-free moment, her usual dark eyeshadow and purple lipstick washed away, her skin naturally pale and smooth. Junior and senior years had been kind to her, while she wasn’t as skinny as the cheerleaders around her, one last growth spurt had filled her out in all the right places. Her breasts grew from palm-filling mounds to hand-overflowing melons, like ripe oranges, crowned with dusky pink nipples pierced through with gleaming silver studs. A silver ring gleamed in her bellybutton, drawing the eye down to her slender waist, and another gleam further down brought it to her smooth-shaven lower lips where another ring looped through her hood. She turned around, letting the shower spray down her back, cascading down her spine and running down between the mounds of her juicy ass.
“All this ghost stuff happening around town, around the school, even, I’d be surprised it hasn’t happened yet!” She continued, ignoring Star’s objections. “Think about it… They can go through walls, they can turn invisible… How would you even know if one was right here, watching us?” She asked.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
Reunited, P. 1
[pre-story]I decided to try and write something halloweeny, and with a little help, I came up with this idea. Vampire meets succubus, with an interesting twist! No sex in this part, got carried away with the setup bits, as usual. Not sure if I'll end up continuing this at this point, it's well past Halloween and I got actual commissions to work on now...
As always, if you like what you see [redacted] Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
Reunited, Part 1
He was looking. Good. Without looking at him, Aleksandria shifted on her stool, her long, shapely, legs uncrossing. Black leather knee-high platform boots swung out, her black, thigh-high stockings parting for just a moment, granting just the barest glimpse of the pale, flawless flesh above them, not quite hidden beneath a short, black-on-gray pleated schoolgirl skirt. It lasted only a moment, before she casually swung the other foot up and crossed them the other way. But any trollop could pull off the Basic Instinct tease. Aleksandria was an artist. While his eyes were still on her, she rolled her spine, drawing his eyes up as her slim, corseted midsection pulled against the laces of her top. The movement continued, pushing her chest out to thrust the gloriously full, pale mounds, already presented deliciously by the corset to even greater prominence, the silver charm dangling off her necklace hanging just above the deep valley of her cleavage. Then, the finisher. Her glossy black-painted lips quirked at the corner, a subtle smirk, and she turned her crimson eyes to meet his. Her face was an image of porcelain perfection, pale, flawless, skin with a photoshoot-ready application of dark makeup that made her red eyes smolder. Not a single strand of long, straight, silky black hair was out of place as she turned to look squarely at him, holding his gaze, as she raised a hand, her fingernails painted black, and crooked her finger, gesturing him closer. He was hooked.
He rose from his seat and walked over, trying so hard to look cool and disinterested while still moving as quickly as possible. He was mostly unremarkable, a typical twenty-something goth boy dressed up in a hot topic halloween costume. Easy prey. Her tongue flicked over the points of her fangs inside her mouth. Another night, another horny boy, another easy meal, another day in the eternal life of a vampire… Honestly, the goth boys were getting boring, but unfortunately, there were only so many ‘scenes’ where incredibly-pale skin and red eyes didn’t seem that out of place. Obediently, her evening meal settled in to sit down on the empty bar stool next to her, and she turned to face him.
As she opened her mouth to speak, a new voice suddenly cut her off, bright and girlish and cheery, the sound alone making her bristle like she’d just heard nails on a chalkboard. “Hey there, stud~! Buy a girl a drink?” It asked, and suddenly her prey wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at the slut that suddenly plopped down onto the bar stool on the opposite side. Aleksandria narrowed her eyes.
As always, if you like what you see [redacted] Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
Reunited, Part 1
He was looking. Good. Without looking at him, Aleksandria shifted on her stool, her long, shapely, legs uncrossing. Black leather knee-high platform boots swung out, her black, thigh-high stockings parting for just a moment, granting just the barest glimpse of the pale, flawless flesh above them, not quite hidden beneath a short, black-on-gray pleated schoolgirl skirt. It lasted only a moment, before she casually swung the other foot up and crossed them the other way. But any trollop could pull off the Basic Instinct tease. Aleksandria was an artist. While his eyes were still on her, she rolled her spine, drawing his eyes up as her slim, corseted midsection pulled against the laces of her top. The movement continued, pushing her chest out to thrust the gloriously full, pale mounds, already presented deliciously by the corset to even greater prominence, the silver charm dangling off her necklace hanging just above the deep valley of her cleavage. Then, the finisher. Her glossy black-painted lips quirked at the corner, a subtle smirk, and she turned her crimson eyes to meet his. Her face was an image of porcelain perfection, pale, flawless, skin with a photoshoot-ready application of dark makeup that made her red eyes smolder. Not a single strand of long, straight, silky black hair was out of place as she turned to look squarely at him, holding his gaze, as she raised a hand, her fingernails painted black, and crooked her finger, gesturing him closer. He was hooked.
He rose from his seat and walked over, trying so hard to look cool and disinterested while still moving as quickly as possible. He was mostly unremarkable, a typical twenty-something goth boy dressed up in a hot topic halloween costume. Easy prey. Her tongue flicked over the points of her fangs inside her mouth. Another night, another horny boy, another easy meal, another day in the eternal life of a vampire… Honestly, the goth boys were getting boring, but unfortunately, there were only so many ‘scenes’ where incredibly-pale skin and red eyes didn’t seem that out of place. Obediently, her evening meal settled in to sit down on the empty bar stool next to her, and she turned to face him.
As she opened her mouth to speak, a new voice suddenly cut her off, bright and girlish and cheery, the sound alone making her bristle like she’d just heard nails on a chalkboard. “Hey there, stud~! Buy a girl a drink?” It asked, and suddenly her prey wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at the slut that suddenly plopped down onto the bar stool on the opposite side. Aleksandria narrowed her eyes.
Thursday, November 9, 2017
Happy Birthday, Ch. 4
[redacted]
Chapter 4: The Triplets, Part 1
John pulled his hips back, drawing a weak moan from the barely-conscious Aunt Christina as his flared, fist-sized head tugged at the entrance to her womb, the wall of muscle reluctant to release the fearsome tool. Her walls gripped so tight his movements dragged her upraised hips back a few inches before the pull became too much and the fat knob pulled free. He kept pulling, and pulling, and pulling, drawing inch after inch after inch of thick, glistening, steel-hard cock from his aunt’s depths. He could feel all four of his cousins staring in awe and hunger as he unsheathed his mighty weapon, and as the gleaming crown pulled free with soft, wet pop, his aunt’s overstuffed pussy twitched, a stream of white-hot cream pouring out of her like a faucet. His member sprang up once it was free, slapping against his rippling abs once before it settled into place, thrusting proudly from his hips, almost a half-yard of cum-and-nectar slick, pussy-wrecking, never-softening, toe-curling studly incestuous COCK, throbbing angrily in midair, its gleaming crown swollen red like a mouth-wateringly ripe apple.
Monday, October 2, 2017
[Musing] Lien's Adventures Part 4: Bitter
[pre-story]Last musing of the month is another installment of Lien's Adventures! Lien visits and old flame, and things quickly get heated! Clickbait aside, though, there's no actual sex in this one, just a fight scene I enjoyed writing way too much to stop, with some relationship-establishing dialogue in there. Next time, though, I can get straight to the fun stuff.
I always worry when I post stuff that isn't at least 50% sex. I figure you guys are here for the smut, after all, so I try to deliver that. But then, I suppose stuff like this is just going to happen from time to time, and stressing myself out over it isn't going to do anyone any good. Inspiration is a fickle mistress.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
As always, if you like what you see [redacted][/pre-story]
When you ask a mainlander to describe a pandaren, they usually use words like ‘honorable’, ‘friendly’, ‘wise’ or ‘fat’. Rarely is ‘intimidating’ on the list. Kenneth, however, was learning the hard way that it was very appropriate, at least, when Cheng Stoutbarrel, honored brewmaster and his boss, loomed over him with a fire burning in his eyes. The pandaren man’s massive bulk, impressive height, and broad, powerful shoulders were plenty intimidating on their own. But add to that the man’s legendary status and position, his sheer presence, and the suddenly-clear memory of that one time he punched a hole in an oak barrel, and they all combined to completely overwhelm the smaller human. Kenneth flattened himself against the wall, shrinking away from the brewmaster’s infamous wrath. “I- I’m sorry, sir, I-”
“YOU WHAT?!” Cheng demanded with a mighty roar, cutting off Kenneth’s stammering apology. “YOU DIDN’T FUCKING THINK, THAT’S WHAT! LOOK AT THIS!” He commanded, gesturing wildly at a nearby keg,half-buried in a mound of rapidly-expanding foam, more and more pouring out of the open tap-hole. “IT’S FUCKING RUINED! I CAN’T FUCKING SERVE THIS SHIT! OM NOM, DID YOU EVEN LOOK AT WHAT YOU WERE ADDING? ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?” He bellowed, lapsing into Pandaren for a moment to properly express his fury. “GET THE FUCK OUT! GET OUT OF MY BREWERY! YOU’RE FUCKING FIRED!”
As Kenneth broke down crying, a new voice called out from behind the furious pandaren. “Om nom, Chug, still got that temper, huh?”
I always worry when I post stuff that isn't at least 50% sex. I figure you guys are here for the smut, after all, so I try to deliver that. But then, I suppose stuff like this is just going to happen from time to time, and stressing myself out over it isn't going to do anyone any good. Inspiration is a fickle mistress.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
As always, if you like what you see [redacted][/pre-story]
When you ask a mainlander to describe a pandaren, they usually use words like ‘honorable’, ‘friendly’, ‘wise’ or ‘fat’. Rarely is ‘intimidating’ on the list. Kenneth, however, was learning the hard way that it was very appropriate, at least, when Cheng Stoutbarrel, honored brewmaster and his boss, loomed over him with a fire burning in his eyes. The pandaren man’s massive bulk, impressive height, and broad, powerful shoulders were plenty intimidating on their own. But add to that the man’s legendary status and position, his sheer presence, and the suddenly-clear memory of that one time he punched a hole in an oak barrel, and they all combined to completely overwhelm the smaller human. Kenneth flattened himself against the wall, shrinking away from the brewmaster’s infamous wrath. “I- I’m sorry, sir, I-”
“YOU WHAT?!” Cheng demanded with a mighty roar, cutting off Kenneth’s stammering apology. “YOU DIDN’T FUCKING THINK, THAT’S WHAT! LOOK AT THIS!” He commanded, gesturing wildly at a nearby keg,half-buried in a mound of rapidly-expanding foam, more and more pouring out of the open tap-hole. “IT’S FUCKING RUINED! I CAN’T FUCKING SERVE THIS SHIT! OM NOM, DID YOU EVEN LOOK AT WHAT YOU WERE ADDING? ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?” He bellowed, lapsing into Pandaren for a moment to properly express his fury. “GET THE FUCK OUT! GET OUT OF MY BREWERY! YOU’RE FUCKING FIRED!”
As Kenneth broke down crying, a new voice called out from behind the furious pandaren. “Om nom, Chug, still got that temper, huh?”
[Musing] The Tale of Mirabel and Erik the Pure, P.2
[pre-story]The conclusion to the patron-requested story of a lovely angel and her long-lost mortal love in paradise! Not much to say on this one, so just enjoy!
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Mirabel stood there, nude. She was a vision of angelic perfection, literally and figuratively. Her smooth, pale skin was devoid of even the smallest of blemishes, her face was soft and kind, her cheeks bearing a rosy flush, her full lips naturally pink, her features framed by long, wavy golden hair and lit by the golden glow of the halo hovering just inches over her head. Her body was equally divine, an hourglass figure, curves that even the most beautiful of mortal women would envy, but not so exaggerated they looked unnatural. Her breasts were perfect, supple mounds the size of oranges that sat proudly on her chest, riding high without the slightest hint of sag, with the unmistakable shape and softness of natural breasts. Her silhouette tapered in at the waist, her stomach smooth and flat, with just the faintest hint of healthy tone beneath it, then flared out into generous, rounded hips that in turn tapered down to shapely thighs, the perfect blend of firm muscle and soft flesh. Between those thighs laid the promised land, her womanhood, a small patch of golden cotton candy fuzz on her pubic bone her only body hair, her outer lips modestly closed, but still flushed rosy-pink, swollen and glistening with desire. Behind her, her glorious wings were half-spread, their neatly-groomed feathers so bright white they almost seemed to glow.
Erik, still on his knees in the seemingly endless field of flowers, could only stare up at her body with blatant awe. She was… divine. That was only word that could possibly describe her. There was a moment of silence as his gaze drank in her beauty, marvelling at every inch of her like he was studying a work of art. Mirabel smiled, softly. “You can do more than just look, you know. Touch me.” She urged, her musical voice taking on a sultry quality.
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Mirabel stood there, nude. She was a vision of angelic perfection, literally and figuratively. Her smooth, pale skin was devoid of even the smallest of blemishes, her face was soft and kind, her cheeks bearing a rosy flush, her full lips naturally pink, her features framed by long, wavy golden hair and lit by the golden glow of the halo hovering just inches over her head. Her body was equally divine, an hourglass figure, curves that even the most beautiful of mortal women would envy, but not so exaggerated they looked unnatural. Her breasts were perfect, supple mounds the size of oranges that sat proudly on her chest, riding high without the slightest hint of sag, with the unmistakable shape and softness of natural breasts. Her silhouette tapered in at the waist, her stomach smooth and flat, with just the faintest hint of healthy tone beneath it, then flared out into generous, rounded hips that in turn tapered down to shapely thighs, the perfect blend of firm muscle and soft flesh. Between those thighs laid the promised land, her womanhood, a small patch of golden cotton candy fuzz on her pubic bone her only body hair, her outer lips modestly closed, but still flushed rosy-pink, swollen and glistening with desire. Behind her, her glorious wings were half-spread, their neatly-groomed feathers so bright white they almost seemed to glow.
Erik, still on his knees in the seemingly endless field of flowers, could only stare up at her body with blatant awe. She was… divine. That was only word that could possibly describe her. There was a moment of silence as his gaze drank in her beauty, marvelling at every inch of her like he was studying a work of art. Mirabel smiled, softly. “You can do more than just look, you know. Touch me.” She urged, her musical voice taking on a sultry quality.
[Musing] The Pillar of Glory
[pre-story]Another musing! So, odd origin story for this idea. I was having a discussion about what sort of materials a fantasy sex toy would be made of, and then somebody mentioned dragon bone, and then I made a pun, and then I started to really think about it and ideas started forming... So, I have three fantasy sex toy ideas to write about now, and this is the first.
On the actual execution of the idea... I'm not proud of this one, I admit. Mistakes were made. If I hadn't fallen so in love with the idea of starting with the dance, I probably could have started with her being led down into the pyramid and finished this thing in one part. But then I got here, and I'm already behind schedule and adding a sex scene would be another thousand words at least and rewriting it would take even longer... I am definitely going to learn from this in the future, but for now, have part one.
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Papan bit her lip nervously as the stood at the foot of the towering staircase leading up to the peak of the tiered pyramid of Xochikama, fingers gripping tight at the edges of the shroud draped over her shoulders, holding it tightly closed. The fabric was itchy on her skin, and she was soaked in sweat, but it was the only thing shielding her body from the gaze of the gathered crowd. Elder Sister Nenetl laid a hand on her shroud-covered shoulder, and she jolted, head whipping around to look. The elder sister smiled, reassuringly. “Remember, you aren’t performing for them. You’re performing for HIM.” She reminded, looking toward the peak of the pyramid.
Papan smiled back, weakly. “Thank you, elder sister…” she replied, then turned her gaze to the chamber at the peak of the pyramid once more. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. “I- I’m ready.” She declared.
On the actual execution of the idea... I'm not proud of this one, I admit. Mistakes were made. If I hadn't fallen so in love with the idea of starting with the dance, I probably could have started with her being led down into the pyramid and finished this thing in one part. But then I got here, and I'm already behind schedule and adding a sex scene would be another thousand words at least and rewriting it would take even longer... I am definitely going to learn from this in the future, but for now, have part one.
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Papan bit her lip nervously as the stood at the foot of the towering staircase leading up to the peak of the tiered pyramid of Xochikama, fingers gripping tight at the edges of the shroud draped over her shoulders, holding it tightly closed. The fabric was itchy on her skin, and she was soaked in sweat, but it was the only thing shielding her body from the gaze of the gathered crowd. Elder Sister Nenetl laid a hand on her shroud-covered shoulder, and she jolted, head whipping around to look. The elder sister smiled, reassuringly. “Remember, you aren’t performing for them. You’re performing for HIM.” She reminded, looking toward the peak of the pyramid.
Papan smiled back, weakly. “Thank you, elder sister…” she replied, then turned her gaze to the chamber at the peak of the pyramid once more. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. “I- I’m ready.” She declared.
[Musing] Onigokko
[pre-story]I almost did it again, that thing where a musing turns into full chapter. This idea's been rattling around in my head for a while, a wild, amazonian woman who turns out to be a tsundere, and an oni seemed like a good choice, to go with the tsundere theme. Also, Onigokko is the japanese word for 'tag', and I like puns. I was kinda expecting this to be something light and cute and kinda funny, but it got a little unexpectedly heavy and emotional toward the end. Probably not enough focus on the sex, honestly... But writing emotional stuff is always kinda exhausting... I was also planning to end it with an epilogue of Hiroshi returning home and telling his parents he's alive, then introducing them to Akane and letting them know they're getting married, but I was already way over my word-goal. Anyways, enough rambling, enjoy!
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
“Oi! Wimp!” The demon’s booming voice heralded her arrival and stirred Hiroshi from his thoughts. He looked over to the tiger skin hanging in the entrance of the cave just in time to see it thrown aside with a sweep of a bright red arm. “I got dinner!” Akane announced proudly as she stepped inside, thrusting her other arm forward, proudly holding out the corpse of a wild boar, its back legs gripped tightly in her fist, the fresh kill still dripping blood.
Akane was everything one expected in an oni. Almost twice his height, with blood-red skin, a long mane of stark white hair, and short, curved horns jutting from her forehead. Her eyes were bright red, to match her skin, and her broad, beaming grin bared a mouthful of sharp teeth, with extra-long fangs and tusks at the corners. She was barely dressed, a strip of tigerskin tied around her chest to match the loincloth dangling between her thighs. Her body was covered in rugged muscle and dotted with scars, lines of slightly paler red on her otherwise smooth skin. When he’d first arrived, she’d been much worse. She refused to wear a top, she wouldn’t bathe, so she was always covered in dirt, and her hair had been a wild, matted, tangled mess. But over the last months, he’d managed to convince her to wash, to cover herself, and she even let him brush her hair (which was quite a process, especially the first time, as her hair was almost as long as he was tall).
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
“Oi! Wimp!” The demon’s booming voice heralded her arrival and stirred Hiroshi from his thoughts. He looked over to the tiger skin hanging in the entrance of the cave just in time to see it thrown aside with a sweep of a bright red arm. “I got dinner!” Akane announced proudly as she stepped inside, thrusting her other arm forward, proudly holding out the corpse of a wild boar, its back legs gripped tightly in her fist, the fresh kill still dripping blood.
Akane was everything one expected in an oni. Almost twice his height, with blood-red skin, a long mane of stark white hair, and short, curved horns jutting from her forehead. Her eyes were bright red, to match her skin, and her broad, beaming grin bared a mouthful of sharp teeth, with extra-long fangs and tusks at the corners. She was barely dressed, a strip of tigerskin tied around her chest to match the loincloth dangling between her thighs. Her body was covered in rugged muscle and dotted with scars, lines of slightly paler red on her otherwise smooth skin. When he’d first arrived, she’d been much worse. She refused to wear a top, she wouldn’t bathe, so she was always covered in dirt, and her hair had been a wild, matted, tangled mess. But over the last months, he’d managed to convince her to wash, to cover herself, and she even let him brush her hair (which was quite a process, especially the first time, as her hair was almost as long as he was tall).
Friday, September 1, 2017
The Jock and the Sissy
[pre-story]So, this happened. I was originally intending this to be last month's 'free' musing. Then I was just gonna double up and have it count as both last month's and this month's. Now here we are, and it can only be called a full-on chapter.
Mostly, I just wanted to try writing something new, something I hadn't tried before, and I've have a lot of requests for gay stuff. Personally, I consider myself like, a 1 or a 2 on the Kinsey scale, but I've never felt particularly inspired to write about male-on-male stuff, and, obviously, the market leans toward straight stuff. But then I started writing, and the story just kept coming! Inspiration is a fickle mistress.
As always, if you like what you see [redacted]!
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!
WARNING: If you couldn't guess, this story is about two dudes gettin' it on, so if you're not interested, avert your eyes now.[/pre-story]
The Jock and the Sissy
At first glance, Brad looked like the stereotypical dumb jock, with a looming, six-eight, musclebound body, broad shoulders usually draped in a loose-fitting jersey, short-buzzed black hair, a square jaw with perpetual stubble and a heavy brow that made him look like vaguely caveman-ish. But appearances are often deceiving. While he wasn’t particularly smart (or, at least, didn’t consider himself to be), he thought of himself as a rather accepting, progressive sort of guy, a counterpoint to the stereotypical homophobic bully jock. Unfortunately, in his smallish, semi-rural town, he was definitely the exception to the rule, and the rest of the football team was more than happy to live up to that expectation. Though, they quickly learned that Brad wouldn’t tolerate bullying in his presence, and he was big and strong enough to make the fight not worth it, even for a group of them.
That wasn’t to say they didn’t do any bullying. Brad couldn’t be everywhere at once, after all. There was one target in particular the team loved to pick on when Brad wasn’t around. Sam. Short and slim, with mid-length tousled brown hair, even though he was a fellow senior it was easy enough to mistake him for a freshman… or a girl, if you looked at him from the back. It turned out he had some sort of medical thing where he didn’t make testosterone right, and by the time he’d found out about it, it was too late, puberty had passed him by. It left him looking, well… girly. Barely any muscle, almost no body hair, and a face that tread the line between ‘childish’ and ‘feminine’.
[Musing] The Tale of Mirabel and Erik the Pure, Part 1
[pre-story] [redacted][/pre-story]
Everything was dark. Then, he heard a voice, soft and feminine. “Erik…” it called, and suddenly, he saw a light, small and far away. “Erik…” The voice called again, it was coming from the light. It sounded… familiar, somehow. Unconsciously, he felt himself drawn toward the light, the voice…
His eyes fluttered open. It was so bright, but somehow, the light didn’t make his eyes ache as it so often did in the mornings. Had the nurse left his light on? But as his vision cleared, he didn’t see the light above his bed. In fact, he didn’t see anything above his bed. The sky was so incredibly blue, dotted with fluffy wisps of cloud, it just seemed to go on forever in all directions. The sun hung high above him, but he didn’t feel the heat of its rays on his skin, and it didn’t hurt to look at it… The air was so clean, cleaner than he’d ever experienced, and it smelled sweet, the fragrant scent of flowers filling his nose with each breath. A gentle breeze caressed him, flowing over his skin from head to toe as he lay there for a moment, it was so nice, so unlike the still, sterile, stale air he was so used to... Wait… Where was his oxygen mask?! His hand shot up to his face, moving with a swift responsiveness he hadn’t had in years, and touched his face, groping for the stiff plastic that wasn’t there. His skin… It felt so smooth on his fingertips. His eyes widened as he caught sight of his hand, it wasn’t the bony claw, twisted by arthritis and marked with liver spots, that he was used to, no, it was… young. What...
Everything was dark. Then, he heard a voice, soft and feminine. “Erik…” it called, and suddenly, he saw a light, small and far away. “Erik…” The voice called again, it was coming from the light. It sounded… familiar, somehow. Unconsciously, he felt himself drawn toward the light, the voice…
His eyes fluttered open. It was so bright, but somehow, the light didn’t make his eyes ache as it so often did in the mornings. Had the nurse left his light on? But as his vision cleared, he didn’t see the light above his bed. In fact, he didn’t see anything above his bed. The sky was so incredibly blue, dotted with fluffy wisps of cloud, it just seemed to go on forever in all directions. The sun hung high above him, but he didn’t feel the heat of its rays on his skin, and it didn’t hurt to look at it… The air was so clean, cleaner than he’d ever experienced, and it smelled sweet, the fragrant scent of flowers filling his nose with each breath. A gentle breeze caressed him, flowing over his skin from head to toe as he lay there for a moment, it was so nice, so unlike the still, sterile, stale air he was so used to... Wait… Where was his oxygen mask?! His hand shot up to his face, moving with a swift responsiveness he hadn’t had in years, and touched his face, groping for the stiff plastic that wasn’t there. His skin… It felt so smooth on his fingertips. His eyes widened as he caught sight of his hand, it wasn’t the bony claw, twisted by arthritis and marked with liver spots, that he was used to, no, it was… young. What...
[Musing] Lien's Adventures Part 3: Curious
[pre-story] [redacted][/pre-story]
Lien's Adventures Part 3: Curious
“Welcome to Mesa Medicinals! What do you need?” The tauren woman greeted from her seat on the blanket near the back of the shop, her voice cheerful, but with a slight drawl to her words. The shop was small, really just a tent with some blankets laid out on top of the grass, a half-dozen or so shelves placed around the periphery, stocked with baskets of dried herbs and bottles of colorful liquids. She was flanked by shelves full of empty bottles and baskets of herbs, a mortar and pestle on one side, and a low table on the other, covered in beakers and bottles connected by crazy, twisted tubing; everything she needed, all within arm’s reach.
The woman in the middle of the blanket sat cross-legged, a long, faintly-smoking pipe delicately nestled between two fingers. She had warm, evenly-toned honey-brown fur, and had a mane to match, her hair tied into two thick braids that hung down in front of her shoulders, the tails dangling just above her chest. An impressive chest, to be certain, even in her relatively modest robes, it was easy to see the woman’s udders were enormous, easily the size of a human’s head. Between the loose robes and the sitting position, the rest of her figure was hidden from view, but nothing could truly hide such a spectacular chest from the world. She smiled softly at the new customer, a placid, almost sleepy smile, the corners of her hazel eyes crinkling slightly, showing her age. She wasn’t old, by any stretch, but she certainly gave off an impression of maturity.
[Musing] Lien's Adventures Part 2: Hungry
[pre-story] [redacted][/pre-story]
Lien's Adventures Part 2: Hungry
“Well, well, well, what do we ‘ave ‘ere?” Rolf grinned, wolfishly, as he stepped out from the treeline at the edge of the slowly-flowing river. The looming worgen’s silver fur looked shaggy and unkempt, matching the ragged trousers he wore and the jagged parallel scars that ran across his wolfish snout. His golden eyes were fixed on the water’s edge, where a lone pandaren woman lounged, half-submerged in the nude, her full, pale-furred breasts floating slightly, their dark nipples standing hard from the river’s chill. He’d only been planning to rob whatever poor sap he found, but the sight of her body was already inspiring a very different sort of plan.
The pandaren woman opened her eyes, slowly twisted around to look at the source of the voice, then smiled, a placid, relaxed smirk, her eyes half-lidded. “It seems I’ve been spotted. Who might you be, stranger?”
Rolf had seen a lot of reactions to getting jumped. Some folks panicked, some folks froze, some folks got mad… But he’d never seen ‘em smirk before. This was… new. Vaguely unsettling. But he couldn’t let it shake him. “Name’s Rolf, lady. You mighta’ ‘eard of me. Wanted posters call me ‘Rolf the Ruthless’. Wanted for robbery, assault… and murder. And you best cooperate if ya don’t want to find out first-hand how ruthless I can get.” He half-growled, flexing his claws illustratively in front of him. Truth was, the ‘murder’ charge was fake, probably just some feral that got mistaken for him, but it helped his reputation, and anyways he couldn’t exactly go marching into the guard station to get it corrected.
Lien's Adventures Part 2: Hungry
“Well, well, well, what do we ‘ave ‘ere?” Rolf grinned, wolfishly, as he stepped out from the treeline at the edge of the slowly-flowing river. The looming worgen’s silver fur looked shaggy and unkempt, matching the ragged trousers he wore and the jagged parallel scars that ran across his wolfish snout. His golden eyes were fixed on the water’s edge, where a lone pandaren woman lounged, half-submerged in the nude, her full, pale-furred breasts floating slightly, their dark nipples standing hard from the river’s chill. He’d only been planning to rob whatever poor sap he found, but the sight of her body was already inspiring a very different sort of plan.
The pandaren woman opened her eyes, slowly twisted around to look at the source of the voice, then smiled, a placid, relaxed smirk, her eyes half-lidded. “It seems I’ve been spotted. Who might you be, stranger?”
Rolf had seen a lot of reactions to getting jumped. Some folks panicked, some folks froze, some folks got mad… But he’d never seen ‘em smirk before. This was… new. Vaguely unsettling. But he couldn’t let it shake him. “Name’s Rolf, lady. You mighta’ ‘eard of me. Wanted posters call me ‘Rolf the Ruthless’. Wanted for robbery, assault… and murder. And you best cooperate if ya don’t want to find out first-hand how ruthless I can get.” He half-growled, flexing his claws illustratively in front of him. Truth was, the ‘murder’ charge was fake, probably just some feral that got mistaken for him, but it helped his reputation, and anyways he couldn’t exactly go marching into the guard station to get it corrected.
Wednesday, August 30, 2017
The Jock and the Sissy [Preview]
[pre-story]So, this happened. I was originally intending this to be last month's 'free' musing. Then I was just gonna double up and have it count as both last month's and this month's. Now here we are, and it can only be called a full-on chapter.
Mostly, I just wanted to try writing something new, something I hadn't tried before, and I've have a lot of requests for gay stuff. Personally, I consider myself like, a 1 or a 2 on the Kinsey scale, but I've never felt particularly inspired to write about male-on-male stuff, and, obviously, the market leans toward straight stuff. But then I started writing, and the story just kept coming! Inspiration is a fickle mistress.
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy.
WARNING: If you couldn't guess, this story is about two dudes gettin' it on, so if you're not interested, avert your eyes now.
[redacted] [/pre-story]
At first glance, Brad looked like the stereotypical dumb jock, with a looming, six-eight, musclebound body, broad shoulders usually draped in a loose-fitting jersey, short-buzzed black hair, a square jaw with perpetual stubble and a heavy brow that made him look like vaguely caveman-ish. But appearances are often deceiving. While he wasn’t particularly smart (or, at least, didn’t consider himself to be), he thought of himself as a rather accepting, progressive sort of guy, a counterpoint to the stereotypical homophobic bully jock. Unfortunately, in his smallish, semi-rural town, he was definitely the exception to the rule, and the rest of the football team was more than happy to live up to that expectation. Though, they quickly learned that Brad wouldn’t tolerate bullying in his presence, and he was big and strong enough to make the fight not worth it, even for a group of them.
That wasn’t to say they didn’t do any bullying. Brad couldn’t be everywhere at once, after all. There was one target in particular the team loved to pick on when Brad wasn’t around. Sam. Short and slim, with mid-length tousled brown hair, even though he was a fellow senior it was easy enough to mistake him for a freshman… or a girl, if you looked at him from the back. It turned out he had some sort of medical thing where he didn’t make testosterone right, and by the time he’d found out about it, it was too late, puberty had passed him by. It left him looking, well… girly. Barely any muscle, almost no body hair, and a face that tread the line between ‘childish’ and ‘feminine’.
Sam was an easy target for bullies, but thankfully, he had Brad on his side. Ever since freshman year, when Brad had stepped in to stop a couple varsity players from beating him up, Sam had been following him around like a lost puppy. The team didn’t bully him when they were together, and Brad didn’t mind his presence (or help with his math homework). At first, they weren’t really friends, just sorta stuck together, but over time they’d bonded. Turned out sports weren’t so boring to watch once you actually understood what was going on, and once he got over his initial hesitation, Brad discovered he actually really liked anime (though he preferred dubs, the philistine).
Unfortunately for Sam, Brad wasn’t always there. When he’d been called out of lunch to go talk with Coach Holland about a scholarship, Sam knew he was in trouble. When the team closed in on him from all sides, like a pack of wolves, his suspicions were proven right. Jeff had thrown his arm around Sam’s shoulders and smiled and laughed like they were old friends as he guided the smaller boy out into the hall, the rest of the team falling in around them once they were away from the watchful eyes of the teachers. Soon the mask of friendliness was gone, and he was being forcefully led through the halls and outside into the rain-soaked grass, the team forming a living wall of cover to hide him as they dragged him around behind the gym, where the new equipment building was being built.
[/preview]
Mostly, I just wanted to try writing something new, something I hadn't tried before, and I've have a lot of requests for gay stuff. Personally, I consider myself like, a 1 or a 2 on the Kinsey scale, but I've never felt particularly inspired to write about male-on-male stuff, and, obviously, the market leans toward straight stuff. But then I started writing, and the story just kept coming! Inspiration is a fickle mistress.
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy.
WARNING: If you couldn't guess, this story is about two dudes gettin' it on, so if you're not interested, avert your eyes now.
[redacted] [/pre-story]
At first glance, Brad looked like the stereotypical dumb jock, with a looming, six-eight, musclebound body, broad shoulders usually draped in a loose-fitting jersey, short-buzzed black hair, a square jaw with perpetual stubble and a heavy brow that made him look like vaguely caveman-ish. But appearances are often deceiving. While he wasn’t particularly smart (or, at least, didn’t consider himself to be), he thought of himself as a rather accepting, progressive sort of guy, a counterpoint to the stereotypical homophobic bully jock. Unfortunately, in his smallish, semi-rural town, he was definitely the exception to the rule, and the rest of the football team was more than happy to live up to that expectation. Though, they quickly learned that Brad wouldn’t tolerate bullying in his presence, and he was big and strong enough to make the fight not worth it, even for a group of them.
That wasn’t to say they didn’t do any bullying. Brad couldn’t be everywhere at once, after all. There was one target in particular the team loved to pick on when Brad wasn’t around. Sam. Short and slim, with mid-length tousled brown hair, even though he was a fellow senior it was easy enough to mistake him for a freshman… or a girl, if you looked at him from the back. It turned out he had some sort of medical thing where he didn’t make testosterone right, and by the time he’d found out about it, it was too late, puberty had passed him by. It left him looking, well… girly. Barely any muscle, almost no body hair, and a face that tread the line between ‘childish’ and ‘feminine’.
Sam was an easy target for bullies, but thankfully, he had Brad on his side. Ever since freshman year, when Brad had stepped in to stop a couple varsity players from beating him up, Sam had been following him around like a lost puppy. The team didn’t bully him when they were together, and Brad didn’t mind his presence (or help with his math homework). At first, they weren’t really friends, just sorta stuck together, but over time they’d bonded. Turned out sports weren’t so boring to watch once you actually understood what was going on, and once he got over his initial hesitation, Brad discovered he actually really liked anime (though he preferred dubs, the philistine).
Unfortunately for Sam, Brad wasn’t always there. When he’d been called out of lunch to go talk with Coach Holland about a scholarship, Sam knew he was in trouble. When the team closed in on him from all sides, like a pack of wolves, his suspicions were proven right. Jeff had thrown his arm around Sam’s shoulders and smiled and laughed like they were old friends as he guided the smaller boy out into the hall, the rest of the team falling in around them once they were away from the watchful eyes of the teachers. Soon the mask of friendliness was gone, and he was being forcefully led through the halls and outside into the rain-soaked grass, the team forming a living wall of cover to hide him as they dragged him around behind the gym, where the new equipment building was being built.
[/preview]
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
[Musing] A Class of Their Own
[pre-story] [redacted] Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
A Class of Their Own
“Hyper-pubescence is a hormonal condition affecting approximately 1% of US children today. The true cause of the condition is yet to be proven, but many scientists blame the hormones used in farming to make livestock more productive. The condition is treatable if detected before puberty, but once puberty begins, it cannot be treated. Upon entering puberty, patients experience dramatic development of primary sex characteristics and some secondary sex characteristics, as well as extreme sexual cravings, but often experience delayed, or at least dramatically slowed development of the majority of secondary sex characteristics…”
“Miss Takahashi?” A small voice spoke up.
Yumi looked up from the textbook she was reading from with a sigh. “Yes, Josh?”
“Can I be excused to the bathroom? And Cathy, too?” He asked.
Yumi sighed again, shaking her head. “You may go, but Cathy will have to wait until you bring back the hall pass.” She replied. “You know the rules.”
“Aww...” Josh whined as he stood up from his seat and walked up to Ms. Takahashi’s desk. Yumi shook her head. The boy certainly didn’t LOOK eighteen, but he sure as hell acted like it. He was only about five feet tall, with a wiry build, a childish face, short, messy, sandy blonde hair and big, innocent-looking green eyes. Of course, he looked innocent at first glance, until you noticed the vaguely-predatory way he looked at girls, the subtle smirk at the corner of his lips, and the massive, unmistakable bulge of his groin. It looked like he’d stuffed a grapefruit into the crotch of his pants, along with some manner of enormous sausage which snaked down his thigh almost to his knee, straining at the material.
A Class of Their Own
“Hyper-pubescence is a hormonal condition affecting approximately 1% of US children today. The true cause of the condition is yet to be proven, but many scientists blame the hormones used in farming to make livestock more productive. The condition is treatable if detected before puberty, but once puberty begins, it cannot be treated. Upon entering puberty, patients experience dramatic development of primary sex characteristics and some secondary sex characteristics, as well as extreme sexual cravings, but often experience delayed, or at least dramatically slowed development of the majority of secondary sex characteristics…”
“Miss Takahashi?” A small voice spoke up.
Yumi looked up from the textbook she was reading from with a sigh. “Yes, Josh?”
“Can I be excused to the bathroom? And Cathy, too?” He asked.
Yumi sighed again, shaking her head. “You may go, but Cathy will have to wait until you bring back the hall pass.” She replied. “You know the rules.”
“Aww...” Josh whined as he stood up from his seat and walked up to Ms. Takahashi’s desk. Yumi shook her head. The boy certainly didn’t LOOK eighteen, but he sure as hell acted like it. He was only about five feet tall, with a wiry build, a childish face, short, messy, sandy blonde hair and big, innocent-looking green eyes. Of course, he looked innocent at first glance, until you noticed the vaguely-predatory way he looked at girls, the subtle smirk at the corner of his lips, and the massive, unmistakable bulge of his groin. It looked like he’d stuffed a grapefruit into the crotch of his pants, along with some manner of enormous sausage which snaked down his thigh almost to his knee, straining at the material.
Friday, June 30, 2017
[Musing] Daddy's Gift
[pre-story]Almost a full year since the first part came out, the story suddenly continues for Father's Day! [redacted][/pre-story]
Cynthia bit her lip, her heart thudding in her chest as Daddy lined his big fat black cock up with her tight little teenage pussy, Mommy’s fingers spreading her ebony lips to reveal the glistening pink within. “Happy Father’s day, sweetie” Mommy purred, and then Daddy thrust his hips forward, and Cynthia moaned aloud.
Cynthia bit her lip, her heart thudding in her chest as Daddy lined his big fat black cock up with her tight little teenage pussy, Mommy’s fingers spreading her ebony lips to reveal the glistening pink within. “Happy Father’s day, sweetie” Mommy purred, and then Daddy thrust his hips forward, and Cynthia moaned aloud.
[Musing] Lien's Adventures, Part 1
[pre-story]The first in a possibly continuing series of patron-requested musings featuring a cuddly pandaren lady. [redacted][/pre-story]
Part 1: Tense
“You look tense.” A soft voice commented.
Gorus Boarslayer blinked, momentarily confused, and looked up from his mug of ale, his heavy green brow furrowed slightly as he turned toward the source of the voice. Two seats down the bar, there sat a pandaren woman, leaning an elbow on the bar, her cheek resting on her fist. She looked out of place in the dim, smoky bar, quite unlike The Wyvern’s Tail’s usual clientele, a parade of grim-faced orcs and trolls that somberly drank away their sorrows. For one thing, there was her dress, a slinky thing, bright red silk embroidered with gold, the shimmering material hugging her ample curves, with slits on both sides that ran all the way up to her hips. She was curvy in the extreme, with thick thighs, wide hips, a slight taper to her waist, and enormous, full breasts, almost as big as her head. She was covered head to toe in soft fuzz, alternating patches of white and black, most notably black patches around her eyes that stretched down onto her cheeks in two long streaks. Her hair was long, except for her straight-trimmed bangs, the rest tied back into a long, thick braid that ran down to the small of the back, and it was mostly black but for a stripe of bright green that ran from her bangs all the way down her braid. She smiled as his eyes met hers, a sparkle of playful intent glinting in her deep green eyes.
“My name is Lien Lightpaw. Perhaps I can help you relax a little?” She purred, leaning a little closer. Gorus swallowed. Was this really happening?
Part 1: Tense
“You look tense.” A soft voice commented.
Gorus Boarslayer blinked, momentarily confused, and looked up from his mug of ale, his heavy green brow furrowed slightly as he turned toward the source of the voice. Two seats down the bar, there sat a pandaren woman, leaning an elbow on the bar, her cheek resting on her fist. She looked out of place in the dim, smoky bar, quite unlike The Wyvern’s Tail’s usual clientele, a parade of grim-faced orcs and trolls that somberly drank away their sorrows. For one thing, there was her dress, a slinky thing, bright red silk embroidered with gold, the shimmering material hugging her ample curves, with slits on both sides that ran all the way up to her hips. She was curvy in the extreme, with thick thighs, wide hips, a slight taper to her waist, and enormous, full breasts, almost as big as her head. She was covered head to toe in soft fuzz, alternating patches of white and black, most notably black patches around her eyes that stretched down onto her cheeks in two long streaks. Her hair was long, except for her straight-trimmed bangs, the rest tied back into a long, thick braid that ran down to the small of the back, and it was mostly black but for a stripe of bright green that ran from her bangs all the way down her braid. She smiled as his eyes met hers, a sparkle of playful intent glinting in her deep green eyes.
“My name is Lien Lightpaw. Perhaps I can help you relax a little?” She purred, leaning a little closer. Gorus swallowed. Was this really happening?
[Musing] Dairy Tour
[pre-story]The first of a new batch of monthly patron-suggested musings! [redacted][/pre-story]
“Right this way, my dear.” Ms. Brown called, a warm, knowing smile on her full, soft lips as she pulled open a door and gestured through.
Becky swallowed, adjusting her thick glasses and biting her lip, slightly intimidated. She was short and mousey, with short, messy, dirty blonde hair, freckles, and a figure that hadn’t quite ‘blossomed’, and after graduating, she’d just about given up hope it would. Ms. Brown, by contrast, was everything she wasn’t. The mature woman was tall, graceful and glamorous, with long auburn hair pulled up into a bun, she moved with confidence to spare. And why shouldn’t she be confident? With that supermodel face and pornstar body… No, porn stars would have looked positively scrawny compared to her. Her breasts were MASSIVE, each easily the size of her head, her business suit presenting what seemed like a mile of cleavage. And her hips! Her pinstripe skirt strained to contain the bounty of her broad hips. Becky considered herself pretty straight, but walking behind Ms. Brown, she could hardly take her eyes off the mature beauty’s swaying, jiggling backside.
“Right this way, my dear.” Ms. Brown called, a warm, knowing smile on her full, soft lips as she pulled open a door and gestured through.
Becky swallowed, adjusting her thick glasses and biting her lip, slightly intimidated. She was short and mousey, with short, messy, dirty blonde hair, freckles, and a figure that hadn’t quite ‘blossomed’, and after graduating, she’d just about given up hope it would. Ms. Brown, by contrast, was everything she wasn’t. The mature woman was tall, graceful and glamorous, with long auburn hair pulled up into a bun, she moved with confidence to spare. And why shouldn’t she be confident? With that supermodel face and pornstar body… No, porn stars would have looked positively scrawny compared to her. Her breasts were MASSIVE, each easily the size of her head, her business suit presenting what seemed like a mile of cleavage. And her hips! Her pinstripe skirt strained to contain the bounty of her broad hips. Becky considered herself pretty straight, but walking behind Ms. Brown, she could hardly take her eyes off the mature beauty’s swaying, jiggling backside.
By The Horns: Ch. 5, P. 3
[pre-story]Alright, here it is, the third and final part of this way-too-damn-big chapter (It's 25k words, if you add up all the parts). If you didn't think the other parts were sexy enough, this should more than satisfy you! I was debating how I should handle Rhuno actually having sex with such tiny ladies, and in the end, I decided to embrace the impossibility settled on some rather extreme stomach bulging, so, you know, you've been warned. If that's not your thing, you might wanna skip this one.
As always, if you like what you read, [redacted] Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 3
As eager as Rhuno was to get started fucking the sexy little goblin’s brains out, the more rational portion of his mind suggested that the middle of the main lab was probably not the best place to continue this. He’d already made quite the mess, after all, and he didn’t want to make it worse. He dipped down, bending at the knees, making Ginny gasp and cling to his massive coal-black cock for stability as he scooped Glitz up in one massive three-fingered hand, effortlessly lifting her off her feet. With both the girls secured, he turned and began to walk, iron-shod hooves clomping heavily as he carried them as smoothly as possible across the room, then up the stairs and around the corner. He ducked through a dented door frame and straightened up again, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed he’d slept in the night before.
As always, if you like what you read, [redacted] Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 3
As eager as Rhuno was to get started fucking the sexy little goblin’s brains out, the more rational portion of his mind suggested that the middle of the main lab was probably not the best place to continue this. He’d already made quite the mess, after all, and he didn’t want to make it worse. He dipped down, bending at the knees, making Ginny gasp and cling to his massive coal-black cock for stability as he scooped Glitz up in one massive three-fingered hand, effortlessly lifting her off her feet. With both the girls secured, he turned and began to walk, iron-shod hooves clomping heavily as he carried them as smoothly as possible across the room, then up the stairs and around the corner. He ducked through a dented door frame and straightened up again, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed he’d slept in the night before.
Friday, June 23, 2017
By The Horns: Ch. 5 P. 3 [Preview]
[pre-story]Alright, here it is, the third and final part of this way-too-damn-big chapter (It's 25k words, if you add up all the parts). If you didn't think the other parts were sexy enough, this should more than satisfy you! I was debating how I should handle Rhuno actually having sex with such tiny ladies, and in the end, I decided to embrace the impossibility settled on some rather extreme stomach bulging, so, you know, you've been warned. If that's not your thing, you might wanna skip this one.
[redacted][/pre-story]
As eager as Rhuno was to get started fucking the sexy little goblin’s brains out, the more rational portion of his mind suggested that the middle of the main lab was probably not the best place to continue this. He’d already made quite the mess, after all, and he didn’t want to make it worse. He dipped down, bending at the knees, making Ginny gasp and cling to his massive coal-black cock for stability as he scooped Glitz up in one massive three-fingered hand, effortlessly lifting her off her feet. With both the girls secured, he turned and began to walk, iron-shod hooves clomping heavily as he carried them as smoothly as possible across the room, then up the stairs and around the corner. He ducked through a dented door frame and straightened up again, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed he’d slept in the night before.
[redacted][/pre-story]
As eager as Rhuno was to get started fucking the sexy little goblin’s brains out, the more rational portion of his mind suggested that the middle of the main lab was probably not the best place to continue this. He’d already made quite the mess, after all, and he didn’t want to make it worse. He dipped down, bending at the knees, making Ginny gasp and cling to his massive coal-black cock for stability as he scooped Glitz up in one massive three-fingered hand, effortlessly lifting her off her feet. With both the girls secured, he turned and began to walk, iron-shod hooves clomping heavily as he carried them as smoothly as possible across the room, then up the stairs and around the corner. He ducked through a dented door frame and straightened up again, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed he’d slept in the night before.
Thursday, June 1, 2017
Musing: Wild Nights
[pre-story]I had a fit of inspiration, and this just kinda happened. [redacted] Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
My husband is a kind, sweet, and gentle man. When we first started dating, my mother was worried about what would happen if he got violent. After all, I’m a ‘delicate little lotus flower’, a tiny, slender Japanese girl barely five foot and almost a hundred pounds, and he’s a 6’3” of blond German muscle, a full hundred pounds heavier. But I knew from the moment we met I didn’t have to worry. He was soft-spoken, emotional, and almost painfully shy, a giant teddy bear of a man. He was aven afraid of my family’s lapdog when he came to visit. I had to be the one to ask him out, to ask him to marry me, and I still have to make the first move when it comes to sex. Not that the sex is bad, mind you, John is big where it counts, too, and he practically worships me in bed. He’s passionate, attentive, and eager to please. Sometime he’ll just spend hours making me cum over and over with his fingers and tongue… But while I am absolutely not complaining about that part, I have to admit, the one thing that bothers me is that he’s so damn precious with me. He touches me like he’s afraid I’ll break, and he feels super-guilty the moment he does something even remotely approaching ‘rough‘.
My husband is a kind, sweet, and gentle man. When we first started dating, my mother was worried about what would happen if he got violent. After all, I’m a ‘delicate little lotus flower’, a tiny, slender Japanese girl barely five foot and almost a hundred pounds, and he’s a 6’3” of blond German muscle, a full hundred pounds heavier. But I knew from the moment we met I didn’t have to worry. He was soft-spoken, emotional, and almost painfully shy, a giant teddy bear of a man. He was aven afraid of my family’s lapdog when he came to visit. I had to be the one to ask him out, to ask him to marry me, and I still have to make the first move when it comes to sex. Not that the sex is bad, mind you, John is big where it counts, too, and he practically worships me in bed. He’s passionate, attentive, and eager to please. Sometime he’ll just spend hours making me cum over and over with his fingers and tongue… But while I am absolutely not complaining about that part, I have to admit, the one thing that bothers me is that he’s so damn precious with me. He touches me like he’s afraid I’ll break, and he feels super-guilty the moment he does something even remotely approaching ‘rough‘.
Wednesday, May 24, 2017
By The Horns: Ch. 5, P. 2
[pre-story]I decided to break the main part of the chapter up into two parts, because holy fuck this is getting to be massive. If you add up all parts I've written so far, it's about 18k words, and I'm still only like half-done with the last part. I feel a lot less guilty about posting this part than I did about the first one, because this one is definitely sexy. I can't say exactly when the last part will come out, my productivity has been just all over the place lately, but I'll be working hard to get it finished (also, got me some new pills that should help), and I'm really, really hoping I can get it done in time to post it this month.
As always, if you like what you see [redacted][/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 2
Rhuno gripped the metal spike in one calloused, three-fingered hand, raised it high, then swung with all his strength, bringing it sweeping down into a brutal horizontal stab, driving it deep into the tough material and giving it a sharp twist at the end. Then he let go, leaving the spike planted there, and stepped back, watching with baited breath. Finally, a trickle of amber liquid began to pour forth, and Rhuno laughed, his voice a booming rumble like distant thunder across the plains. Glitz and Ginny both wore expressions of surprise, Ginny’s mixed with glee and Glitz’ with dismay. The tauren wore a broad, triumphant grin as he stepped forward again, reaching out, one hand turning off the spigot he’d just driven in as the other grabbed the first pitcher of pale ale from the freshly-tapped keg.
As always, if you like what you see [redacted][/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 2
Rhuno gripped the metal spike in one calloused, three-fingered hand, raised it high, then swung with all his strength, bringing it sweeping down into a brutal horizontal stab, driving it deep into the tough material and giving it a sharp twist at the end. Then he let go, leaving the spike planted there, and stepped back, watching with baited breath. Finally, a trickle of amber liquid began to pour forth, and Rhuno laughed, his voice a booming rumble like distant thunder across the plains. Glitz and Ginny both wore expressions of surprise, Ginny’s mixed with glee and Glitz’ with dismay. The tauren wore a broad, triumphant grin as he stepped forward again, reaching out, one hand turning off the spigot he’d just driven in as the other grabbed the first pitcher of pale ale from the freshly-tapped keg.
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
By The Horns Ch. 5, P. 2 [Preview]
[pre-story]So, I decided to break the main part of the chapter up into two parts, because holy fuck this is getting to be massive. If you add up all parts I've written so far, it's about 18k words, and I'm still only like half-done with the last part. I feel a lot less guilty about posting this part than I did about the first one, because this one is definitely sexy. I can't say exactly when the last part will come out, my productivity has been just all over the place lately, but I'll be working hard to get it finished (also, got me some new pills that should help), and I'm really, really hoping I can get it done in time to post it this month.
[redacted][/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 2 [Preview]
Rhuno gripped the metal spike in one calloused, three-fingered hand, raised it high, then swung with all his strength, bringing it sweeping down into a brutal horizontal stab, driving it deep into the tough material and giving it a sharp twist at the end. Then he let go, leaving the spike planted there, and stepped back, watching with baited breath. Finally, a trickle of amber liquid began to pour forth, and Rhuno laughed, his voice a booming rumble like distant thunder across the plains. Glitz and Ginny both wore expressions of surprise, Ginny’s mixed with glee and Glitz’ with dismay. The tauren wore a broad, triumphant grin as he stepped forward again, reaching out, one hand turning off the spigot he’d just driven in as the other grabbed the first pitcher of pale ale from the freshly-tapped keg.
Ginny stepped forward too, marvelling at the barrel, one small hand coming up to touch the rough oak surface. “Looks like you lost, Glitz!”
Glitz' expression turned to one of amused, begrudging acceptance as she reached into her pocket, but Rhuno simply grinned. “I warned you, I used to do it all the time! Made a lot of gold off new crusaders with that trick. Not a lot to do in northrend except fight and drink.” He added, leaning against a wall as he raised the pitcher to his lips and took a swig.
When Rhuno lowered the pitcher again, the foam clung to his upper lip in a pale moustache. Glitz giggled a bit as she fished out a coin and flipped it haphazardly in Rhuno’s general direction. The shining disk arced gracefully through the air, only to land with an undignified splash in his pitcher of ale. There was a half a moment of silence, then all three cracked up, giggling and laughing as the golden disk sank through the amber liquid to settle at the bottom.
Ginny shook her head as the giggle-fit wore off. “Ohh, wow… I think finding that funny means I’m officially drunk.”
Glitz giggled again, shaking her head. “How can somebody with ‘Gin’ in their name be such a lightweight?”
“Hey!” Ginny objected as she poured herself another gnome-sized glass of ale. “First…” She began, gesturing at the two now-empty kegs that had preceded this one. “...That’s a lot of alcohol! And second, Ginnfizzle is a perfectly normal name that has nothing to do with alcohol! My mom was named Ginnfizzle!” She explained, then paused, looking thoughtful, before muttering “...Though, grandpa did own a bar, and she was working there when dad met her...”
Glitz giggled uncontrollably at that revelation, tipping backward until she fell off her stool, hitting the floor with a dull thump, still laughing. “A bar wench! YOU’RE a bar wench’s daughter? Fuck, the apple must’ve rolled a LONG way from the tree!”
“Mom was NOT a bar-wench!” Ginny pouted, then paused, the full comment percolating through the haze of alcohol. “...Hey, wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”
Glitz wiped at the corners of her eyes as she pushed herself up off the floor. “Ginny. Honey.” She began. “You know yer shit with machines and wires an’ crap, sure… but you are SO stiff and awkward.” She explained.
“I’m not stiff!” Ginny objected, planting her hands on her hips as she scowled at Glitz, looking inescapably like a child mid-tantrum.
Glitz shook her head as she sat up fully. “Yer stiff as a board right now! You talk stiff, you walk stiff, you act stiff! You’d be a terrible bar wench!” Glitz replied. “Wenches gotta be relaxed, they gotta be flexible, an’ graceful, an’ sexy! Like dancers, but they gotta talk to people too.” She explained, sagely, giving her arms an illustrative wiggle.
“I am NOT stiff!” Ginny reiterated, scowling a little harder. “Look!” She exclaimed, lifting her mostly-full glass to her lips and chugging its contents, before slamming the empty vessel down on the table.
[/Preview]
[redacted][/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 2 [Preview]
Rhuno gripped the metal spike in one calloused, three-fingered hand, raised it high, then swung with all his strength, bringing it sweeping down into a brutal horizontal stab, driving it deep into the tough material and giving it a sharp twist at the end. Then he let go, leaving the spike planted there, and stepped back, watching with baited breath. Finally, a trickle of amber liquid began to pour forth, and Rhuno laughed, his voice a booming rumble like distant thunder across the plains. Glitz and Ginny both wore expressions of surprise, Ginny’s mixed with glee and Glitz’ with dismay. The tauren wore a broad, triumphant grin as he stepped forward again, reaching out, one hand turning off the spigot he’d just driven in as the other grabbed the first pitcher of pale ale from the freshly-tapped keg.
Ginny stepped forward too, marvelling at the barrel, one small hand coming up to touch the rough oak surface. “Looks like you lost, Glitz!”
Glitz' expression turned to one of amused, begrudging acceptance as she reached into her pocket, but Rhuno simply grinned. “I warned you, I used to do it all the time! Made a lot of gold off new crusaders with that trick. Not a lot to do in northrend except fight and drink.” He added, leaning against a wall as he raised the pitcher to his lips and took a swig.
When Rhuno lowered the pitcher again, the foam clung to his upper lip in a pale moustache. Glitz giggled a bit as she fished out a coin and flipped it haphazardly in Rhuno’s general direction. The shining disk arced gracefully through the air, only to land with an undignified splash in his pitcher of ale. There was a half a moment of silence, then all three cracked up, giggling and laughing as the golden disk sank through the amber liquid to settle at the bottom.
Ginny shook her head as the giggle-fit wore off. “Ohh, wow… I think finding that funny means I’m officially drunk.”
Glitz giggled again, shaking her head. “How can somebody with ‘Gin’ in their name be such a lightweight?”
“Hey!” Ginny objected as she poured herself another gnome-sized glass of ale. “First…” She began, gesturing at the two now-empty kegs that had preceded this one. “...That’s a lot of alcohol! And second, Ginnfizzle is a perfectly normal name that has nothing to do with alcohol! My mom was named Ginnfizzle!” She explained, then paused, looking thoughtful, before muttering “...Though, grandpa did own a bar, and she was working there when dad met her...”
Glitz giggled uncontrollably at that revelation, tipping backward until she fell off her stool, hitting the floor with a dull thump, still laughing. “A bar wench! YOU’RE a bar wench’s daughter? Fuck, the apple must’ve rolled a LONG way from the tree!”
“Mom was NOT a bar-wench!” Ginny pouted, then paused, the full comment percolating through the haze of alcohol. “...Hey, wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”
Glitz wiped at the corners of her eyes as she pushed herself up off the floor. “Ginny. Honey.” She began. “You know yer shit with machines and wires an’ crap, sure… but you are SO stiff and awkward.” She explained.
“I’m not stiff!” Ginny objected, planting her hands on her hips as she scowled at Glitz, looking inescapably like a child mid-tantrum.
Glitz shook her head as she sat up fully. “Yer stiff as a board right now! You talk stiff, you walk stiff, you act stiff! You’d be a terrible bar wench!” Glitz replied. “Wenches gotta be relaxed, they gotta be flexible, an’ graceful, an’ sexy! Like dancers, but they gotta talk to people too.” She explained, sagely, giving her arms an illustrative wiggle.
“I am NOT stiff!” Ginny reiterated, scowling a little harder. “Look!” She exclaimed, lifting her mostly-full glass to her lips and chugging its contents, before slamming the empty vessel down on the table.
[/Preview]
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
By The Horns: Ch. 5, P. 1
[pre-story] Hey there, Squish here, with something a little... unusual. Chapter 5, all together, is about 12k words long at the moment, and will probably be closer to 15k by the time I’m finished. Considering the length, and how long it’s taking, I thought it might be best to break it up a little. This seemed like the cleanest break, but it doesn’t actually have any sex in it, so I debated about it for a long while, until the calendar kinda forced my hand. If you’re just in it for the smut, you could probably skip this part without too much trouble. Still, it’s got a cool fight scene and sets up the initial relationship between the girls and their relationship to Rhuno. I’m still not sure if I’m gonna split the main portion of the story or not, so you might get one big or two smallish parts after this, but I can assure you, whatever comes next, there will be plenty of sex in it. If you wanna see the full story as soon as it's done, remember to check out my patreon![/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 1
“BITCH!”
“WHORE!”
The sounds of shrill, angry shouts echoing from the laboratory were nothing new, and the people of Gadgetzan were content to ignore them as they went about their business beneath the burning desert sun. The ensuing crash of breaking glass, and the dull boom that that followed, were new, but not not so new as to warrant more than a curious glance from passerbys. But when Glitz came flying out of the building, thrown with enough force to break one of the hinges on the double doors as she passed through them, hitting the cracked, baking earth and sliding a couple feet, well, that was certainly new enough to draw some stares.
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 1
“BITCH!”
“WHORE!”
The sounds of shrill, angry shouts echoing from the laboratory were nothing new, and the people of Gadgetzan were content to ignore them as they went about their business beneath the burning desert sun. The ensuing crash of breaking glass, and the dull boom that that followed, were new, but not not so new as to warrant more than a curious glance from passerbys. But when Glitz came flying out of the building, thrown with enough force to break one of the hinges on the double doors as she passed through them, hitting the cracked, baking earth and sliding a couple feet, well, that was certainly new enough to draw some stares.
Musing: Thirsty Work
[pre-story]I'm finally back to work! This one ran a little longer than I planned, but thankfully not so long as to be broken in two. Not sure where the idea came from, but it sprang into being with title and concept fully formed. The story mentions bestiality a couple times, but it's not really delved into in detail, so, if you're not into that, just, you know, be warned. [redacted]Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
My name is Rebecca, and I’m addicted to cum.
I almost wish it were drugs, just because it would be SO much easier to explain. Also, it’d be less of a temptation during the day. Let me try to explain my situation a little bit. I work at a scientific facility, where we study reproduction. My official job title is ‘associate collection specialist’, which basically translates to ‘dick-milker’. Sperm doesn’t tend to last very long outside the body, so we always need fresh samples. Usually, I work with animals, because they really can’t get themselves off, but sometimes I work with humans, when ‘the magazines aren’t enough’. Most of them just want a girl to stroke them off. I’d call them perverts, but I don’t really have a leg to stand on, there. Anyways, when the scientists need sperm, it’s my job to get it.
When first I started working there, I was very clinical, very detached. It’s not sexual, it’s a medical procedure, I just need to extract sperm, right? But once I got used to it… I started to have problems. Cum smells. You probably knew that, but did you know different kinds of cum have different smells? I do. When you milk dicks all day, every day, you become intimately familiar with the subtle distinctions in scent between different sources of cum. You can’t escape the smell, either. It fills the room, it clings to you, and if you breath through your mouth for too long, you start to taste it. Medical face masks are really more to stop stuff from splattering into your face than to filter out smells.
Thing is… I started to like it. I got REALLY good at handjobs, and I began to figure out what different regulars liked. I would catch myself fondling balls, squeezing them, weighing the big ones in my palms. I would find myself panting after an extraction, mouth open just enough to let the scent cling to my tongue. I would spot wet spots on my panties when I took bathroom breaks. I tried to transfer to a new position once I realized what was happening, but what was I supposed to tell my bosses? I was enjoying it too much? I probably could have gotten the transfer if I’d kept trying, but… I just couldn’t convince myself to file the paperwork again.
I’m not sure what it is about cum that gets me so worked up. It doesn’t matter who, or what, it’s from… most of the time. It’s something primitive, primal, in the back of my mind. When I make a subject cum, I feel accomplished, like, ‘I did that, I made this happen, this is my reward’. It sends a shiver down my spine, and my pussy gets wet just thinking about a cock, throbbing, pulsing, with big, fat balls pulled up tight against the base, great big streamers of hot, pearly cum shooting from the swollen tip over and over and over again…
Ahem. Anyways. It was getting worse and worse. One day, though, it all came to a head. Pun not intended. I’d been in the stable all morning with hardly any breaks, collecting samples from the genetically modified horses. Those studs are… either the best or the worst, depending on how guilty I feel. They’re all huge, powerful animals, with cocks as long as my arm, balls like grapefruit, and their cum, oh, lord, their cum. They cum almost violently, shooting cups of some of the thickest, richest, creamiest cum I’ve ever encountered, filling the whole room with that mind-numbing musky scent... Plus, each stud’s first load of the day isn’t valid for study, so it normally just gets disposed of… which means nobody goes looking for it when it goes missing. If I play my cards right I can get nearly a full gallon of stallion-spunk over the course of a day. It goes down like a salty, musky milkshake...
Fuck. Anyways. Back on track. After… that, all morning, my panties were soaked, but there was a human subject that ‘needed a hand’ waiting, and none of the other ‘collection specialists’ were willing to handle him, so I couldn’t exactly go take care of it. So, I headed down to the collection room, resigning myself to squeezing a load out of whatever guy was so repulsive/scary the others wouldn’t take care of him… I don’t know exactly what I was expecting when I walked in, but… I was not expecting this guy. White guy, a little older than usual, maybe mid-thirties, but HUGE. In more ways than one. More than six feet tall, for sure, with broad, square shoulders, arms like tree trunks, eight-pack abs… The guy was layered with rippling muscle from head to toe. He’s handsome, too, short black hair, strong jaw, intense, icy blue eyes… But I didn’t ever register he HAD a face that first time. No, my eyes found the monster between his thighs first, and staunchly refused to look anywhere else after that.
And it WAS a monster, no doubt about it. I had to measure it later, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the numbers. Eighteen-and-one-eighth fucking inches long, and thirteen-and-thirteen-sixteenths inches in circumference at the midpoint. For comparison, that’s slightly bigger, in both length and thickness, than my calf. I’m talking HUGE. And his balls! Like fucking oranges, hanging low and fat in his sack, seemingly heavy with cum… I eventually realized I was staring, but I still couldn’t keep my eyes off it, so I basically ended up doing half my whole ‘Hello, Sir, my name is Rebecca, I’m here to help you blah blah blah, if you have a latex allergy blah blah blah…’ deal directly to his cock. I only vaguely heard the affirmative in his response before I got my whole routine started.
Facemask. Gloves. Measuring tape. Collection vessel. He actually stopped me there and told me I’d need something bigger. Now, I know neither penis or testicle size are directly correlated to seminal volume, but for some reason, looking at that monster, I believed him, so I fished out an unused stallion collection vessel from my bag to use instead. I could barely look away from that cock the entire time. It was almost hypnotic. It certainly didn’t help that I was already weak-in-the-knees horny when I walked in.
Then it was time for the real thing. I laid out my kneeler on the floor and settled in at his feet as professionally as one could while staring transfixed at a cock. He couldn’t see my mouth hanging open in awe behind the face-mask, but I’m pretty sure he got the general impression of my feelings toward that cock from my eyes alone. Finally, I reached up and touched it. The gloves felt like they weren’t even there, I could feel the heat, the power as it bucked at my touch... There was something distinctly erotic about the contrast between my coffee-colored skin and that monstrous marble monolith. My hand seemed so small compared to it, I’d never even seen a cock too big to close my hand around, but this beast, my fingers barely even made it halfway around.
Stroking that monster off was next to impossible. I was supposed to keep one hand free to keep the collector in place, but the shaft was too big around for me to hold it securely with one hand. I had to get creative. I slipped the vessel between my thighs and squeezed them around it to hold it in place as I gripped that glorious cum-cannon with both hands and began to stroke it in earnest. I was practically drooling into my mask, It was just SO big, SO hot, SO hard! I could feel the monster pulsing, bucking with each beat of his heart, threatening to pull itself from my grip every time.
Straining to keep that beast under control as I stroked and milked it was making my arms burn, but I didn’t care. I was practically in a trance as I jerked his length. Looking at the clock afterward told me I spent nearly half and hour stroking that fucking monster, but at the time, it felt like it could just have easily have been hours or minutes before that beastly shaft began to buck and throb even more violently. I knew exactly what that meant, and my hands began to move even faster, all the while struggling to lever the fearsome monster down and aim the tip at the mouth of the collection vessel.
That cock ERUPTED. It almost seemed to rumble as those big, fat balls tightened and the cum-channel bulged, before it gave a violent lurch that ripped it from my hands and aimed that swollen, gleaming tip directly at my face. White-hot molten lust blasted forth like th spray from a firehose, hitting me directly in the face with incredible force, splattering out from the point of impact to cover my glasses and my face-mask in a thick, creamy, gooey layer of spunk. I was caked in the stuff, blinded by the sheer volume of spunk that covered my glasses and was rapidly oozing down from my forehead to glue my eyelids shut. It was so hot, so thick, and it smelled so fucking intense… Every breath through the mask was choked with the potent, musky scent of his cum. I’m pretty sure I had a tiny orgasm right there.
I was barely aware of what I was doing, but apparently, some part of me still wanted to do my job. I reached down, grabbing the vessel and bringing it up, blindly trying to find the tip of his cock with the mouth of it. Thankfully, he was helpful, even in the moment, guiding my hand and the vessel into place as his monster cock fired its second oversized salvo. All I could do was kneel there, blind and half-drowning in cum, my face completely soaked in his hot, creamy load, holding the vessel in place as I felt it grow heavier and heavier with each immense blast of cum, my pussy twitching in time with the spurting cum. I’d completely soaked through my panties, I found the wet spot on the crotch of my pants later.
When he was finally finished, I remember taking off my mask and glasses and struggling to clean off my face with the tissues already in the room. Then I mumbled something about delivering the sample, sealed the almost-overflowing vessel, and exited the room. I was weak-kneed and wobbly on my feet, I must have looked completely wasted as I walked down the hall and stumbled into the bathroom. I wasn’t thinking, clearly, my mind was a muddled mess, but something else was in control and it knew exactly what it needed. I pushed into a stall and sat down on a toilet, the vessel still in hand.
One hand immediately went down, tearing blindly at my belt, my eyes locked on the full vessel in front of me, marvelling at the sheer volume of cum. Not even the horses filled these things that full. As the belt came undone, my hand moved on, unbuttoning and unzipping my pants, giving itself room to work when It plunged down between my belly and my completely soaked panties. With one thumb, I popped the lid on the vessel, ruining the sample and instantly filling the air with the thick scent of cum. I didn’t care, I simply brought the vessel up to my face and drew in a deep breath through my nose, filling my brain with the intoxicating scent as three fingers plunged between my tender lips, there was no need for foreplay or warm-up, I was already INSANELY turned on. I sniffed again, and again, inhaling the musky essence of manhood as my fingers pumped in and out and in and out of my pussy over and over.
I could barely stifle my moans. I knew this was just so wrong, on so many levels, but I just couldn’t stop. I needed that cum, and I needed to cum. That was the moment where I stepped over the line. My lips parted as I whimpered with pleasure, and I could taste the scent of his cum on my tongue. I didn’t even hesitate. I brought the vessel to my lips, threw my head back, and drowned my tongue in a stranger’s cum. The taste, the texture, the lingering heat… the moment it touched my tongue, I came. I came like I never came before. I thought I was going to break a finger as my pussy clamped down and my mind swam in a sea of cum. I swallowed in my orgasmic haze, and felt the thick, creamy treat slide down my throat, coating it, before finally pooling in my stomach. I filled my mouth with another load of spunk and swallowed that too, my body trembling in pleasure the entire time. The vessel seemed endless, the was just so much cum, and each gulp of jizz made my orgasm drag on, the pleasure lingering as I savored the studly spunk.
It was only when the orgasm was over that I realized the cum had run out, that the vessel was empty. My tongue lolled mindlessly out, swirling through the clinging cream around the entrance to the vessel, savoring the sticky seed. I pulled my hand from my panties, my fingers soaked in my nectar, and gave one last swallow before my mind rebooted and I realized the gravity of the situation. I’d just destroyed the sample! The man was on the logs, and there was no way in hell I could get away with just saying he failed to cum after spending that long in the room alone with him. I was on the edge of panic as I frantically straightened my clothes and hair before bolting from the restroom, discarding the vessel in a biohazard bin as I passed, and pushed into the sample room once again.
The guy looked surprised, pausing as he pulled his shirt on again, his perfect fucking cock still hard as steel, pinned against his rugged abs by the waistband of his boxers. I swallowed. There was only one way to get out of this situation and still have a job. “I’m, uh, I’m very sorry, sir, but I’m going to need another sample.” I explained. Then I looked at that cock again, and I lied. “The… um… the first sample collected is often unusable, you see. Yes, the- the sperm is older, so, uh, it’s… it’s better to make sure it’s fresh. So, um, don’t be surprised if this happens again.”
I didn’t bother with the mask and gloves that time, or any of the sessions after that. At first, I tried to be sneaky about what I was doing with the ‘unusable’ sample. I think it was during the fifth session that I just gave up and chugged the sample right in front of him. In the seventh, I didn’t even bother with a vessel for the first load, I simply wrapped my lips around the tip and drank his load straight from the source. Since then, I’ve been sucking the first load out of him. I started sucking off the horses soon after. Sometimes I still milk a load or two out of them and just pour them into a thermos to drink with lunch, but nothing quite beats the taste of cum straight from the tap…
Anyways. That’s my confession. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day and I have a pint of stallion-spunk waiting for me in the fridge.
My name is Rebecca, and I’m addicted to cum.
I almost wish it were drugs, just because it would be SO much easier to explain. Also, it’d be less of a temptation during the day. Let me try to explain my situation a little bit. I work at a scientific facility, where we study reproduction. My official job title is ‘associate collection specialist’, which basically translates to ‘dick-milker’. Sperm doesn’t tend to last very long outside the body, so we always need fresh samples. Usually, I work with animals, because they really can’t get themselves off, but sometimes I work with humans, when ‘the magazines aren’t enough’. Most of them just want a girl to stroke them off. I’d call them perverts, but I don’t really have a leg to stand on, there. Anyways, when the scientists need sperm, it’s my job to get it.
When first I started working there, I was very clinical, very detached. It’s not sexual, it’s a medical procedure, I just need to extract sperm, right? But once I got used to it… I started to have problems. Cum smells. You probably knew that, but did you know different kinds of cum have different smells? I do. When you milk dicks all day, every day, you become intimately familiar with the subtle distinctions in scent between different sources of cum. You can’t escape the smell, either. It fills the room, it clings to you, and if you breath through your mouth for too long, you start to taste it. Medical face masks are really more to stop stuff from splattering into your face than to filter out smells.
Thing is… I started to like it. I got REALLY good at handjobs, and I began to figure out what different regulars liked. I would catch myself fondling balls, squeezing them, weighing the big ones in my palms. I would find myself panting after an extraction, mouth open just enough to let the scent cling to my tongue. I would spot wet spots on my panties when I took bathroom breaks. I tried to transfer to a new position once I realized what was happening, but what was I supposed to tell my bosses? I was enjoying it too much? I probably could have gotten the transfer if I’d kept trying, but… I just couldn’t convince myself to file the paperwork again.
I’m not sure what it is about cum that gets me so worked up. It doesn’t matter who, or what, it’s from… most of the time. It’s something primitive, primal, in the back of my mind. When I make a subject cum, I feel accomplished, like, ‘I did that, I made this happen, this is my reward’. It sends a shiver down my spine, and my pussy gets wet just thinking about a cock, throbbing, pulsing, with big, fat balls pulled up tight against the base, great big streamers of hot, pearly cum shooting from the swollen tip over and over and over again…
Ahem. Anyways. It was getting worse and worse. One day, though, it all came to a head. Pun not intended. I’d been in the stable all morning with hardly any breaks, collecting samples from the genetically modified horses. Those studs are… either the best or the worst, depending on how guilty I feel. They’re all huge, powerful animals, with cocks as long as my arm, balls like grapefruit, and their cum, oh, lord, their cum. They cum almost violently, shooting cups of some of the thickest, richest, creamiest cum I’ve ever encountered, filling the whole room with that mind-numbing musky scent... Plus, each stud’s first load of the day isn’t valid for study, so it normally just gets disposed of… which means nobody goes looking for it when it goes missing. If I play my cards right I can get nearly a full gallon of stallion-spunk over the course of a day. It goes down like a salty, musky milkshake...
Fuck. Anyways. Back on track. After… that, all morning, my panties were soaked, but there was a human subject that ‘needed a hand’ waiting, and none of the other ‘collection specialists’ were willing to handle him, so I couldn’t exactly go take care of it. So, I headed down to the collection room, resigning myself to squeezing a load out of whatever guy was so repulsive/scary the others wouldn’t take care of him… I don’t know exactly what I was expecting when I walked in, but… I was not expecting this guy. White guy, a little older than usual, maybe mid-thirties, but HUGE. In more ways than one. More than six feet tall, for sure, with broad, square shoulders, arms like tree trunks, eight-pack abs… The guy was layered with rippling muscle from head to toe. He’s handsome, too, short black hair, strong jaw, intense, icy blue eyes… But I didn’t ever register he HAD a face that first time. No, my eyes found the monster between his thighs first, and staunchly refused to look anywhere else after that.
And it WAS a monster, no doubt about it. I had to measure it later, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the numbers. Eighteen-and-one-eighth fucking inches long, and thirteen-and-thirteen-sixteenths inches in circumference at the midpoint. For comparison, that’s slightly bigger, in both length and thickness, than my calf. I’m talking HUGE. And his balls! Like fucking oranges, hanging low and fat in his sack, seemingly heavy with cum… I eventually realized I was staring, but I still couldn’t keep my eyes off it, so I basically ended up doing half my whole ‘Hello, Sir, my name is Rebecca, I’m here to help you blah blah blah, if you have a latex allergy blah blah blah…’ deal directly to his cock. I only vaguely heard the affirmative in his response before I got my whole routine started.
Facemask. Gloves. Measuring tape. Collection vessel. He actually stopped me there and told me I’d need something bigger. Now, I know neither penis or testicle size are directly correlated to seminal volume, but for some reason, looking at that monster, I believed him, so I fished out an unused stallion collection vessel from my bag to use instead. I could barely look away from that cock the entire time. It was almost hypnotic. It certainly didn’t help that I was already weak-in-the-knees horny when I walked in.
Then it was time for the real thing. I laid out my kneeler on the floor and settled in at his feet as professionally as one could while staring transfixed at a cock. He couldn’t see my mouth hanging open in awe behind the face-mask, but I’m pretty sure he got the general impression of my feelings toward that cock from my eyes alone. Finally, I reached up and touched it. The gloves felt like they weren’t even there, I could feel the heat, the power as it bucked at my touch... There was something distinctly erotic about the contrast between my coffee-colored skin and that monstrous marble monolith. My hand seemed so small compared to it, I’d never even seen a cock too big to close my hand around, but this beast, my fingers barely even made it halfway around.
Stroking that monster off was next to impossible. I was supposed to keep one hand free to keep the collector in place, but the shaft was too big around for me to hold it securely with one hand. I had to get creative. I slipped the vessel between my thighs and squeezed them around it to hold it in place as I gripped that glorious cum-cannon with both hands and began to stroke it in earnest. I was practically drooling into my mask, It was just SO big, SO hot, SO hard! I could feel the monster pulsing, bucking with each beat of his heart, threatening to pull itself from my grip every time.
Straining to keep that beast under control as I stroked and milked it was making my arms burn, but I didn’t care. I was practically in a trance as I jerked his length. Looking at the clock afterward told me I spent nearly half and hour stroking that fucking monster, but at the time, it felt like it could just have easily have been hours or minutes before that beastly shaft began to buck and throb even more violently. I knew exactly what that meant, and my hands began to move even faster, all the while struggling to lever the fearsome monster down and aim the tip at the mouth of the collection vessel.
That cock ERUPTED. It almost seemed to rumble as those big, fat balls tightened and the cum-channel bulged, before it gave a violent lurch that ripped it from my hands and aimed that swollen, gleaming tip directly at my face. White-hot molten lust blasted forth like th spray from a firehose, hitting me directly in the face with incredible force, splattering out from the point of impact to cover my glasses and my face-mask in a thick, creamy, gooey layer of spunk. I was caked in the stuff, blinded by the sheer volume of spunk that covered my glasses and was rapidly oozing down from my forehead to glue my eyelids shut. It was so hot, so thick, and it smelled so fucking intense… Every breath through the mask was choked with the potent, musky scent of his cum. I’m pretty sure I had a tiny orgasm right there.
I was barely aware of what I was doing, but apparently, some part of me still wanted to do my job. I reached down, grabbing the vessel and bringing it up, blindly trying to find the tip of his cock with the mouth of it. Thankfully, he was helpful, even in the moment, guiding my hand and the vessel into place as his monster cock fired its second oversized salvo. All I could do was kneel there, blind and half-drowning in cum, my face completely soaked in his hot, creamy load, holding the vessel in place as I felt it grow heavier and heavier with each immense blast of cum, my pussy twitching in time with the spurting cum. I’d completely soaked through my panties, I found the wet spot on the crotch of my pants later.
When he was finally finished, I remember taking off my mask and glasses and struggling to clean off my face with the tissues already in the room. Then I mumbled something about delivering the sample, sealed the almost-overflowing vessel, and exited the room. I was weak-kneed and wobbly on my feet, I must have looked completely wasted as I walked down the hall and stumbled into the bathroom. I wasn’t thinking, clearly, my mind was a muddled mess, but something else was in control and it knew exactly what it needed. I pushed into a stall and sat down on a toilet, the vessel still in hand.
One hand immediately went down, tearing blindly at my belt, my eyes locked on the full vessel in front of me, marvelling at the sheer volume of cum. Not even the horses filled these things that full. As the belt came undone, my hand moved on, unbuttoning and unzipping my pants, giving itself room to work when It plunged down between my belly and my completely soaked panties. With one thumb, I popped the lid on the vessel, ruining the sample and instantly filling the air with the thick scent of cum. I didn’t care, I simply brought the vessel up to my face and drew in a deep breath through my nose, filling my brain with the intoxicating scent as three fingers plunged between my tender lips, there was no need for foreplay or warm-up, I was already INSANELY turned on. I sniffed again, and again, inhaling the musky essence of manhood as my fingers pumped in and out and in and out of my pussy over and over.
I could barely stifle my moans. I knew this was just so wrong, on so many levels, but I just couldn’t stop. I needed that cum, and I needed to cum. That was the moment where I stepped over the line. My lips parted as I whimpered with pleasure, and I could taste the scent of his cum on my tongue. I didn’t even hesitate. I brought the vessel to my lips, threw my head back, and drowned my tongue in a stranger’s cum. The taste, the texture, the lingering heat… the moment it touched my tongue, I came. I came like I never came before. I thought I was going to break a finger as my pussy clamped down and my mind swam in a sea of cum. I swallowed in my orgasmic haze, and felt the thick, creamy treat slide down my throat, coating it, before finally pooling in my stomach. I filled my mouth with another load of spunk and swallowed that too, my body trembling in pleasure the entire time. The vessel seemed endless, the was just so much cum, and each gulp of jizz made my orgasm drag on, the pleasure lingering as I savored the studly spunk.
It was only when the orgasm was over that I realized the cum had run out, that the vessel was empty. My tongue lolled mindlessly out, swirling through the clinging cream around the entrance to the vessel, savoring the sticky seed. I pulled my hand from my panties, my fingers soaked in my nectar, and gave one last swallow before my mind rebooted and I realized the gravity of the situation. I’d just destroyed the sample! The man was on the logs, and there was no way in hell I could get away with just saying he failed to cum after spending that long in the room alone with him. I was on the edge of panic as I frantically straightened my clothes and hair before bolting from the restroom, discarding the vessel in a biohazard bin as I passed, and pushed into the sample room once again.
The guy looked surprised, pausing as he pulled his shirt on again, his perfect fucking cock still hard as steel, pinned against his rugged abs by the waistband of his boxers. I swallowed. There was only one way to get out of this situation and still have a job. “I’m, uh, I’m very sorry, sir, but I’m going to need another sample.” I explained. Then I looked at that cock again, and I lied. “The… um… the first sample collected is often unusable, you see. Yes, the- the sperm is older, so, uh, it’s… it’s better to make sure it’s fresh. So, um, don’t be surprised if this happens again.”
I didn’t bother with the mask and gloves that time, or any of the sessions after that. At first, I tried to be sneaky about what I was doing with the ‘unusable’ sample. I think it was during the fifth session that I just gave up and chugged the sample right in front of him. In the seventh, I didn’t even bother with a vessel for the first load, I simply wrapped my lips around the tip and drank his load straight from the source. Since then, I’ve been sucking the first load out of him. I started sucking off the horses soon after. Sometimes I still milk a load or two out of them and just pour them into a thermos to drink with lunch, but nothing quite beats the taste of cum straight from the tap…
Anyways. That’s my confession. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day and I have a pint of stallion-spunk waiting for me in the fridge.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Daddy's Home: New Life [April Fools]
[pre-story] Surprise! You've asked, you've begged, you've demanded more, and I shall deliver! I feel like I've really developed as a writers since I started Daddy's home, and I'm exited to bring the series back and put all my new skills to use! Anyways, I hope you enjoy![/pre-story]
Daddy's Home: New Life
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rich asked, looking around at all the equipment intruding on his bedroom. Microphones, lights with those reflective umbrella things on them, three big, fancy cameras at all different angles… This stuff wasn’t cheap, even just renting it.
“Of course, Daddy!” Sam replied with a grin as she darted around the room checking equipment and making last-minute adjustments, his beautiful, dark-haired daughter dressed in her skimpiest, sexiest gothic lingerie. Black-and-purple striped thigh-high stockings clung to her shapely legs, fastened to a lacy black garter belt with straps tight enough to dig into the pale globes of her spectacular ass. Those twin moons were split by the barely-there string of a black, semi-sheer lace thong, the straps of which rode high on her generous hips. Her hips tapered to a slender waist, the barest hint of tone visible on her flat stomach, a gleaming purple gemstone dangling from her bellybutton ring. Her top was somewhere between a bra and a corset, little more than a wide belt of tightly-laced material around her ribcage with a set of shaped, triangular cups that could barely contain a pair of breasts that were each practically as big as his head, the pale, creamy flesh bulging out around them, jiggling with every tiny movement, the cups barely hiding her suckable nipples from view. Around her neck she wore a choker, a band of elastic black lace with a silver heart-shaped charm seated directly on her throat. She went heavier with the makeup than usual, her lips painted with her favorite glossy black lipstick, her eyes outlined with thick black eyeliner, artfully contoured into wings, then layered over with dusky purple eyeshadow. Her long, black, silky hair was done up into twintails, a departure from her usual style, but one she said would work better for the cameras.
Daddy's Home: New Life
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rich asked, looking around at all the equipment intruding on his bedroom. Microphones, lights with those reflective umbrella things on them, three big, fancy cameras at all different angles… This stuff wasn’t cheap, even just renting it.
“Of course, Daddy!” Sam replied with a grin as she darted around the room checking equipment and making last-minute adjustments, his beautiful, dark-haired daughter dressed in her skimpiest, sexiest gothic lingerie. Black-and-purple striped thigh-high stockings clung to her shapely legs, fastened to a lacy black garter belt with straps tight enough to dig into the pale globes of her spectacular ass. Those twin moons were split by the barely-there string of a black, semi-sheer lace thong, the straps of which rode high on her generous hips. Her hips tapered to a slender waist, the barest hint of tone visible on her flat stomach, a gleaming purple gemstone dangling from her bellybutton ring. Her top was somewhere between a bra and a corset, little more than a wide belt of tightly-laced material around her ribcage with a set of shaped, triangular cups that could barely contain a pair of breasts that were each practically as big as his head, the pale, creamy flesh bulging out around them, jiggling with every tiny movement, the cups barely hiding her suckable nipples from view. Around her neck she wore a choker, a band of elastic black lace with a silver heart-shaped charm seated directly on her throat. She went heavier with the makeup than usual, her lips painted with her favorite glossy black lipstick, her eyes outlined with thick black eyeliner, artfully contoured into wings, then layered over with dusky purple eyeshadow. Her long, black, silky hair was done up into twintails, a departure from her usual style, but one she said would work better for the cameras.
Friday, March 24, 2017
By The Horns Ch. 5, P. 1 [Preview]
[pre-story] Hey there, Squish here, with something a little... unusual. Chapter 5, all together, is about 12k words long at the moment, and will probably be closer to 15k by the time I’m finished. Considering the length, and how long it’s taking, I thought it might be best to break it up a little. This seemed like the cleanest break, but it doesn’t actually have any sex in it, so I debated about it for a long while, until the calendar kinda forced my hand. If you’re just in it for the smut, you could probably skip this part without too much trouble. Still, it’s got a cool fight scene and sets up the initial relationship between the girls and their relationship to Rhuno. I’m still not sure if I’m gonna split the main portion of the story or not, so you might get one big or two smallish parts after this, but I can assure you, whatever comes next, there will be plenty of sex in it.
[redacted][/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 1
“BITCH!”
“WHORE!”
The sounds of shrill, angry shouts echoing from the laboratory were nothing new, and the people of Gadgetzan were content to ignore them as they went about their business beneath the burning desert sun. The ensuing crash of breaking glass, and the dull boom that that followed, were new, but not not so new as to warrant more than a curious glance from passerbys. But when Glitz came flying out of the building, thrown with enough force to break one of the hinges on the double doors as she passed through them, hitting the cracked, baking earth and sliding a couple feet, well, that was certainly new enough to draw some stares.
[redacted][/pre-story]
Unlikely Adversaries, Part 1
“BITCH!”
“WHORE!”
The sounds of shrill, angry shouts echoing from the laboratory were nothing new, and the people of Gadgetzan were content to ignore them as they went about their business beneath the burning desert sun. The ensuing crash of breaking glass, and the dull boom that that followed, were new, but not not so new as to warrant more than a curious glance from passerbys. But when Glitz came flying out of the building, thrown with enough force to break one of the hinges on the double doors as she passed through them, hitting the cracked, baking earth and sliding a couple feet, well, that was certainly new enough to draw some stares.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Musing: Emerald Trade (Part 1)
[pre-story]A patreon musing! So, I love goblins-as-shortstacks, and then I saw some art of a muscled goblin babe, and I thought, huh, that's cool, hey, maybe hobgoblins are, like, regular goblins, just with a genetic trait that makes them super-buff? And then I wanted to write a sexy goblin shortstack and a muscled goblin amazon and then here we are. I was expecting this to get straight to the sex, but as seems to happen so often with me, I got too deep into the setup and it's over before I know it. So, actual sex will have to wait for the next installment. I also got to include a reference to Ba'Ahram in there, so that was fun. Enjoy!
Side note: If a short and busty babe is called a shortstack, is a short and muscular babe called a shortslab? Is that a thing? Can it be?[pre-story]
Andor let out a quiet groan, his head throbbing painfully.
“Look, he’s waking up!” an unfamiliar, feminine voice called out.
Slowly, Andor’s eyelids opened, only to squint blearily against the light filtering through the canopy above. He was on his back on the forest floor, but he didn’t remember lying down…He tried to shift and push himself up, only to feel something rough biting into his wrists and his head give another painful throb. “Wha-?” He mumbled, confused, struggling to get his bearings. He’d been out hunting. He’d bagged a couple rabbits, but nothing really impressive. He’d been heading home, and then… blackness.
“Don’t bother struggling. You’re not gonna slip the knots.” Came a second voice, deeper than the first, but still clearly feminine.
Blinking away the bleariness, Andor forced his eyes open, catching sight of the scene before him. The sky beyond the leaves and branches above was just turning orange with the first hints of sunset. A small campfire crackled merrily just a few paces away, the rabbits he’d caught already skinned, cleaned, and roasting on sticks over the open flames. “Hey, those are-” He began to object, when he finally took note of the two figures staring down at him and fell silent.
Side note: If a short and busty babe is called a shortstack, is a short and muscular babe called a shortslab? Is that a thing? Can it be?[pre-story]
Andor let out a quiet groan, his head throbbing painfully.
“Look, he’s waking up!” an unfamiliar, feminine voice called out.
Slowly, Andor’s eyelids opened, only to squint blearily against the light filtering through the canopy above. He was on his back on the forest floor, but he didn’t remember lying down…He tried to shift and push himself up, only to feel something rough biting into his wrists and his head give another painful throb. “Wha-?” He mumbled, confused, struggling to get his bearings. He’d been out hunting. He’d bagged a couple rabbits, but nothing really impressive. He’d been heading home, and then… blackness.
“Don’t bother struggling. You’re not gonna slip the knots.” Came a second voice, deeper than the first, but still clearly feminine.
Blinking away the bleariness, Andor forced his eyes open, catching sight of the scene before him. The sky beyond the leaves and branches above was just turning orange with the first hints of sunset. A small campfire crackled merrily just a few paces away, the rabbits he’d caught already skinned, cleaned, and roasting on sticks over the open flames. “Hey, those are-” He began to object, when he finally took note of the two figures staring down at him and fell silent.
Happy Birthday Ch. 3
[pre-story]It. Is. Done! This one nearly killed me. I bit off WAY more than I could chew, as usual, and between writer's block and getting sick, it just... it took forever. I ended up breaking the scenes we had planned for this one into two distinct chapters. Ultimately, it's probably better for it, and the decision let me avoid both stressing myself into an early grave and keeping you all waiting another month.
Anyways, enjoy! If you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Christina’s Turn
John barely had time to yank up his dress shirt and cinch his belt tight, pinning his monstrous, throbbing member against his rugged abs, the flared crown pulsing just short of reaching his powerful pecs, then yank his shirt down again, just in time to conceal the fearsome weapon as he was half-pushed-half-dragged through the ballroom doors and into the parking lot. The night air was cool and quiet, and the ballroom was far enough away from the street to avoid wandering eyes, but still, adding another charge of indecent exposure to his record would rather effectively spoil the celebration. The ABCs whined impatiently, two tugging at his arms while the third pushed him forward from behind, the identical, incorrigible redheaded triplets eager to start a night with their favorite cousin. He probably could have planted his feet, stopped himself, and taken the time to properly conceal his monolithic cock, but three sets of big, round, emerald-green puppy-dog eyes and big, round, freckle-dusted basketball-sized tits, half-bursting out of tight, backless emerald gowns, were very persuasive. Together, the triplets guided their studly cousin across the parking lot, toward a big green SUV sitting on the asphalt.
John heard the hurried clacking of heels on pavement behind him and twisted in the triplets’ grip, catching sight of Aunt Christina rushing to catch up. The mature, copper-haired beauty was elegant as always, somehow managing to make her rushed pace look smooth and graceful, purposeful and controlled as a queen striding through her court. That is, if you ignored the way her titanic tits shook and wobbled with each stride, her diamond-hard nipples threatening to come bouncing out of her emerald dress with every step. And the way her thighs and fingers glistened, slick with her own womanly nectar. And the way her knees trembled just the tiniest bit as nearly a half-gallon of her nephew’s thick, creamy cum sloshed in her belly.
Anyways, enjoy! If you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]
Christina’s Turn
John barely had time to yank up his dress shirt and cinch his belt tight, pinning his monstrous, throbbing member against his rugged abs, the flared crown pulsing just short of reaching his powerful pecs, then yank his shirt down again, just in time to conceal the fearsome weapon as he was half-pushed-half-dragged through the ballroom doors and into the parking lot. The night air was cool and quiet, and the ballroom was far enough away from the street to avoid wandering eyes, but still, adding another charge of indecent exposure to his record would rather effectively spoil the celebration. The ABCs whined impatiently, two tugging at his arms while the third pushed him forward from behind, the identical, incorrigible redheaded triplets eager to start a night with their favorite cousin. He probably could have planted his feet, stopped himself, and taken the time to properly conceal his monolithic cock, but three sets of big, round, emerald-green puppy-dog eyes and big, round, freckle-dusted basketball-sized tits, half-bursting out of tight, backless emerald gowns, were very persuasive. Together, the triplets guided their studly cousin across the parking lot, toward a big green SUV sitting on the asphalt.
John heard the hurried clacking of heels on pavement behind him and twisted in the triplets’ grip, catching sight of Aunt Christina rushing to catch up. The mature, copper-haired beauty was elegant as always, somehow managing to make her rushed pace look smooth and graceful, purposeful and controlled as a queen striding through her court. That is, if you ignored the way her titanic tits shook and wobbled with each stride, her diamond-hard nipples threatening to come bouncing out of her emerald dress with every step. And the way her thighs and fingers glistened, slick with her own womanly nectar. And the way her knees trembled just the tiniest bit as nearly a half-gallon of her nephew’s thick, creamy cum sloshed in her belly.
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Happy Birthday Ch. 3 [preview]
[pre-story]It. Is. Done! This one nearly killed me. I bit off WAY more than I could chew, as usual, and between writer's block and getting sick, it just... it took forever. I ended up breaking the scenes we had planned for this one into two distinct chapters. Ultimately, it's probably better for it, and the decision let me avoid both stressing myself into an early grave and keeping you all waiting another month.
Anyways, enjoy! [redacted][/pre-story]
Christina’s Turn
John barely had time to yank up his dress shirt and cinch his belt tight, pinning his monstrous, throbbing member against his rugged abs, the flared crown pulsing just short of reaching his powerful pecs, then yank his shirt down again, just in time to conceal the fearsome weapon as he was half-pushed-half-dragged through the ballroom doors and into the parking lot. The night air was cool and quiet, and the ballroom was far enough away from the street to avoid wandering eyes, but still, adding another charge of indecent exposure to his record would rather effectively spoil the celebration. The ABCs whined impatiently, two tugging at his arms while the third pushed him forward from behind, the identical, incorrigible redheaded triplets eager to start a night with their favorite cousin. He probably could have planted his feet, stopped himself, and taken the time to properly conceal his monolithic cock, but three sets of big, round, emerald-green puppy-dog eyes and big, round, freckle-dusted basketball-sized tits, half-bursting out of tight, backless emerald gowns, were very persuasive. Together, the triplets guided their studly cousin across the parking lot, toward a big green SUV sitting on the asphalt.
John heard the hurried clacking of heels on pavement behind him and twisted in the triplets’ grip, catching sight of Aunt Christina rushing to catch up. The mature, copper-haired beauty was elegant as always, somehow managing to make her rushed pace look smooth and graceful, purposeful and controlled as a queen striding through her court. That is, if you ignored the way her titanic tits shook and wobbled with each stride, her diamond-hard nipples threatening to come bouncing out of her emerald dress with every step. And the way her thighs and fingers glistened, slick with her own womanly nectar. And the way her knees trembled just the tiniest bit as nearly a half-gallon of her nephew’s thick, creamy cum sloshed in her belly.
Next thing John knew, his cousins were throwing open the back door and practically shoving him inside, before swiftly piling in after him. The backseat was spacious, a single enormous leather-upholstered bench seat, but it simply wasn’t made to hold four ridiculously overdeveloped teenagers. Abby was first, sidling past him, only to stumble as she passed, burying his face in her pale, freckled cleavage, lingering for perhaps a moment too long for it to be entirely accidental before settling into the far seat. Betty was next, taking the seat by the door, sliding in to sit as close to him as she could, her full breasts resting against his arm while she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. Cherry moved to join them, only to find all the seats in the back taken, her sisters smirking triumphantly at her as they snuggled up to their favorite cousin. She glared at her siblings in annoyance for a moment, lingering in the doorway, until an idea occurred to her that turned her look of annoyance into a smug grin. Ignoring her siblings, she flashed John a broad grin and climbed on in, stepping over Betty to smoothly plant her perfectly round ass squarely in John’s lap She gave her hips a wiggle as she settled into place, backing the smooth globes of her ass up against the monolithic shaft pinned to John’s abs, before leaning back against his chest, offering the taller tennager a spectacular view into the valley of her pale, freckled cleavage. As the monstrous shaft pulsed against her bountiful backside, her sister’s looks turned from smugness to surprise, then resigned annoyance as they realized they got out-played.
The massive vehicle rumbled to life as Aunt Christina buckled into the driver’s seat, adjusting her mirror to glance into the backseat, her nephew almost completely hidden from her view below the neck, his powerful frame nearly buried by her daughter’s nubile young bodies. “Now, girls, don’t tease him too much before we get home…” She chided with a soft smirk.
The ABCs exchanged a glance, playful grins spreading across their full lips. “We~ won’t~!” The girls replied in a chorus of sing-song voices, before giggling in a way that made everyone else a little nervous. Christina narrowed her eyes slightly, glaring sternly into the mirror for a moment, before heaving a sigh that made her monumental melons bounce, shifting into gear, and pulling out of the parking space, rolling the enormous vehicle toward the road. The backseat was silent for a long moment, John surrounded by the redheaded troublemakers as they grinned playfully. They were planning something, that much was certain, the only question was what, and just how perverse it would be.
Anyways, enjoy! [redacted][/pre-story]
Christina’s Turn
John barely had time to yank up his dress shirt and cinch his belt tight, pinning his monstrous, throbbing member against his rugged abs, the flared crown pulsing just short of reaching his powerful pecs, then yank his shirt down again, just in time to conceal the fearsome weapon as he was half-pushed-half-dragged through the ballroom doors and into the parking lot. The night air was cool and quiet, and the ballroom was far enough away from the street to avoid wandering eyes, but still, adding another charge of indecent exposure to his record would rather effectively spoil the celebration. The ABCs whined impatiently, two tugging at his arms while the third pushed him forward from behind, the identical, incorrigible redheaded triplets eager to start a night with their favorite cousin. He probably could have planted his feet, stopped himself, and taken the time to properly conceal his monolithic cock, but three sets of big, round, emerald-green puppy-dog eyes and big, round, freckle-dusted basketball-sized tits, half-bursting out of tight, backless emerald gowns, were very persuasive. Together, the triplets guided their studly cousin across the parking lot, toward a big green SUV sitting on the asphalt.
John heard the hurried clacking of heels on pavement behind him and twisted in the triplets’ grip, catching sight of Aunt Christina rushing to catch up. The mature, copper-haired beauty was elegant as always, somehow managing to make her rushed pace look smooth and graceful, purposeful and controlled as a queen striding through her court. That is, if you ignored the way her titanic tits shook and wobbled with each stride, her diamond-hard nipples threatening to come bouncing out of her emerald dress with every step. And the way her thighs and fingers glistened, slick with her own womanly nectar. And the way her knees trembled just the tiniest bit as nearly a half-gallon of her nephew’s thick, creamy cum sloshed in her belly.
Next thing John knew, his cousins were throwing open the back door and practically shoving him inside, before swiftly piling in after him. The backseat was spacious, a single enormous leather-upholstered bench seat, but it simply wasn’t made to hold four ridiculously overdeveloped teenagers. Abby was first, sidling past him, only to stumble as she passed, burying his face in her pale, freckled cleavage, lingering for perhaps a moment too long for it to be entirely accidental before settling into the far seat. Betty was next, taking the seat by the door, sliding in to sit as close to him as she could, her full breasts resting against his arm while she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. Cherry moved to join them, only to find all the seats in the back taken, her sisters smirking triumphantly at her as they snuggled up to their favorite cousin. She glared at her siblings in annoyance for a moment, lingering in the doorway, until an idea occurred to her that turned her look of annoyance into a smug grin. Ignoring her siblings, she flashed John a broad grin and climbed on in, stepping over Betty to smoothly plant her perfectly round ass squarely in John’s lap She gave her hips a wiggle as she settled into place, backing the smooth globes of her ass up against the monolithic shaft pinned to John’s abs, before leaning back against his chest, offering the taller tennager a spectacular view into the valley of her pale, freckled cleavage. As the monstrous shaft pulsed against her bountiful backside, her sister’s looks turned from smugness to surprise, then resigned annoyance as they realized they got out-played.
The massive vehicle rumbled to life as Aunt Christina buckled into the driver’s seat, adjusting her mirror to glance into the backseat, her nephew almost completely hidden from her view below the neck, his powerful frame nearly buried by her daughter’s nubile young bodies. “Now, girls, don’t tease him too much before we get home…” She chided with a soft smirk.
The ABCs exchanged a glance, playful grins spreading across their full lips. “We~ won’t~!” The girls replied in a chorus of sing-song voices, before giggling in a way that made everyone else a little nervous. Christina narrowed her eyes slightly, glaring sternly into the mirror for a moment, before heaving a sigh that made her monumental melons bounce, shifting into gear, and pulling out of the parking space, rolling the enormous vehicle toward the road. The backseat was silent for a long moment, John surrounded by the redheaded troublemakers as they grinned playfully. They were planning something, that much was certain, the only question was what, and just how perverse it would be.
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
Musing: Dibella's Blessing
[pre-story]Hey there, squish here, finally continuing the story of the futa dragonborn! [redacted] Anyways, enjoy! There's plenty more story to come![/pre-story]
Dibella's Blessing
The three priestesses shared a glance as they held their robes closed for a moment, each one bearing a very different expression. The small breton, Senna, as the dragonborn would later learn, wore an eager, mischievous grin on her almost childlike face, the glint of lust in her eyes seeming ill-fitting. The wide-hipped redguard, Anwen, had a smoldering, sultry look in her eyes, and a playful smirk on her full lips. The tall, busty nord, Orla, was chewing her lip hesitantly, but her eyes kept flicking over to the dragonborn’s magnificent body, lingering on that superior shaft. Hamal cleared her throat, the high priestess catching the attention of all three for a moment and giving them a reassuring nod. As one, three robes parted and fell, pooling around the priestesses’ ankles, revealing their naked bodies to the dragonborn.
Dibella's Blessing
The three priestesses shared a glance as they held their robes closed for a moment, each one bearing a very different expression. The small breton, Senna, as the dragonborn would later learn, wore an eager, mischievous grin on her almost childlike face, the glint of lust in her eyes seeming ill-fitting. The wide-hipped redguard, Anwen, had a smoldering, sultry look in her eyes, and a playful smirk on her full lips. The tall, busty nord, Orla, was chewing her lip hesitantly, but her eyes kept flicking over to the dragonborn’s magnificent body, lingering on that superior shaft. Hamal cleared her throat, the high priestess catching the attention of all three for a moment and giving them a reassuring nod. As one, three robes parted and fell, pooling around the priestesses’ ankles, revealing their naked bodies to the dragonborn.
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Musing: Love Bug P. 1
[pre-story]So, I've been mulling over this idea for a long time. I wasn't sure if I should actually write it, because I'm not sure how sexy it'd be in the end, but I ran a twitter poll and the results convinced me to go for it. The idea is interesting to me, even if it's not super hot. It's a romance set in the universe of the game FTL: Faster Than Light, one of my recent gaming obsessions, and it features a very alien sort of alien as the love interest. It was supposed to just be some very short snippets setting up a larger relationship but I just wrote and wrote and now I'm like 4k words deep and nobody's even naked yet. I decided I had to cut it off here for the month, even though I haven't gotten to the action yet, because it's probably only about half-done at this point, if that, and I don't think I should keep my current commission waiting for however long it would take me to actually finish it.[/pre-story]
Love Bug: Part 1
“K’tikikaak.”
The captain paused, looking up from his datapad to take in the figure standing before him. The insectoid creature had a long abdomen with folded wing-cases on its back, held parallel to the deck on four spindly legs covered in jagged serrations. It had a thorax, held upright, that almost looked like a slender humanoid torso. It had two arms, long, folding limbs, ending in serrated, scythe-like blades, each almost half a meter long, flanked by spindly ‘fingers’ that invariably reminded him of spider legs. It had a head that was entirely alien, a wide, flat, triangular thing, with glittering multifaceted eyes set into the sides and chittering mandibles at the front, perched on a skinny stick of a neck. All told, the creature was perhaps a half-meter taller than him, but it compact form likely only outweighed him by a few kilos. The whole creature was covered in segmented carapace, a bright, vibrant red color, banded with tiger stripes of a darker shade.
Love Bug: Part 1
“K’tikikaak.”
The captain paused, looking up from his datapad to take in the figure standing before him. The insectoid creature had a long abdomen with folded wing-cases on its back, held parallel to the deck on four spindly legs covered in jagged serrations. It had a thorax, held upright, that almost looked like a slender humanoid torso. It had two arms, long, folding limbs, ending in serrated, scythe-like blades, each almost half a meter long, flanked by spindly ‘fingers’ that invariably reminded him of spider legs. It had a head that was entirely alien, a wide, flat, triangular thing, with glittering multifaceted eyes set into the sides and chittering mandibles at the front, perched on a skinny stick of a neck. All told, the creature was perhaps a half-meter taller than him, but it compact form likely only outweighed him by a few kilos. The whole creature was covered in segmented carapace, a bright, vibrant red color, banded with tiger stripes of a darker shade.
A Satyr's Sacred Seed: Ch. 2
[pre-story]Hey there, Sqish here, with the conclusion of Galbuscho 's commission about satyrs, breeding, and liters of cum! I actually thought I had this one done at 3.5k words, but then I realized I'd feel guilty charging for such a short chapter, went back and added in a couple more orgasms and a bit of post-coitus cuddling and it feels WAY more complete than it did before.[/pre-story]
Chapter 2: A Satyr’s Savage Seeding
Varossion loomed in the middle of the sacred glade, half-kneeling, his bulk supported on one knee and one cloven hoof. The massive, muscular satyr’s broad, powerful chest rose and fell rhythmically as he caught his breath, his pale green skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. His long hair, a curious, mossy shade of greenish brown, was swept back out of his face, revealing his ruggedly handsome features, pointed ears and inhuman eyes, twin featureless orbs of warm hazel. His heavy brow bore the roots of a pair of woodlike antlers that arched up above his head, branching again and again into a spectacular rack of points that hung over him like a crown, giving him a regal air. In contrast to that regal bearing, his cock thrust proudly from his hips, a fearsome pillar of granite-hard flesh longer than a forearm and wider than a handspan. It throbbed and lurched angrily, like a wild beast, its length wound over with thick, pulsing veins and crowned with a flared, helmet-shaped head, easily the size of a man’s fist and still dripping with pearly seed. Beneath the towering monolithic member swayed a pair of truly enormous balls, like a pair of ripe melons, sloshing with an ocean of thick, creamy, supernaturally-potent cum.
Alika laid herself out on the grass, her soft, honey-tan skin and earthy-red tattoos glistening with a mixture of sweat and the last remnants of Varossion’s massive load, which she’d just lovingly rubbed into her full, grapefruit-sized breasts. The young eniiri’s slender waist squirmed as she nestled down into the soft grass, her long, chestnut-brown hair splayed out beneath her like a pair of wings. Wildflowers bloomed around her, freshly-sprouted wherever the satyr’s mystical seed has splattered to the earth. Wordlessly, she spread her legs, her smooth, supple thighs parting, their inner surfaces glistening with her sweet nectar. Her lips parted, presenting her delicate, peach-pink petals, flushed and twitching softly with a deep, instinctual need, wordlessly begging to be satisfied.
“I’m ready.” Alika breathed, her earlier nervousness gone, evaporated before the heat of her lust like dew before the morning sun. “Varossion… Take me. Plant your sacred seed in me and make me a woman in the eyes of The Green.” She implored, her voice heavy with desire.
Chapter 2: A Satyr’s Savage Seeding
Varossion loomed in the middle of the sacred glade, half-kneeling, his bulk supported on one knee and one cloven hoof. The massive, muscular satyr’s broad, powerful chest rose and fell rhythmically as he caught his breath, his pale green skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. His long hair, a curious, mossy shade of greenish brown, was swept back out of his face, revealing his ruggedly handsome features, pointed ears and inhuman eyes, twin featureless orbs of warm hazel. His heavy brow bore the roots of a pair of woodlike antlers that arched up above his head, branching again and again into a spectacular rack of points that hung over him like a crown, giving him a regal air. In contrast to that regal bearing, his cock thrust proudly from his hips, a fearsome pillar of granite-hard flesh longer than a forearm and wider than a handspan. It throbbed and lurched angrily, like a wild beast, its length wound over with thick, pulsing veins and crowned with a flared, helmet-shaped head, easily the size of a man’s fist and still dripping with pearly seed. Beneath the towering monolithic member swayed a pair of truly enormous balls, like a pair of ripe melons, sloshing with an ocean of thick, creamy, supernaturally-potent cum.
Alika laid herself out on the grass, her soft, honey-tan skin and earthy-red tattoos glistening with a mixture of sweat and the last remnants of Varossion’s massive load, which she’d just lovingly rubbed into her full, grapefruit-sized breasts. The young eniiri’s slender waist squirmed as she nestled down into the soft grass, her long, chestnut-brown hair splayed out beneath her like a pair of wings. Wildflowers bloomed around her, freshly-sprouted wherever the satyr’s mystical seed has splattered to the earth. Wordlessly, she spread her legs, her smooth, supple thighs parting, their inner surfaces glistening with her sweet nectar. Her lips parted, presenting her delicate, peach-pink petals, flushed and twitching softly with a deep, instinctual need, wordlessly begging to be satisfied.
“I’m ready.” Alika breathed, her earlier nervousness gone, evaporated before the heat of her lust like dew before the morning sun. “Varossion… Take me. Plant your sacred seed in me and make me a woman in the eyes of The Green.” She implored, her voice heavy with desire.
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