[pre-story]Hey there, squish here, with a new chapter in the Project Stud story, commissioned by the eternally patient Iceman77. I'm not sure what it was about this story, but it just flowed so beautifully from a writing perspective. Like, I never got stuck on a line, never agonized over a decision, I wrote average or above-average word counts each day I got to actually sit down and write... It was really, really satisfying to see it just pour forth from my keyboard like that. Anyways, you got a nice big ol' chapter to read, so enjoy!
[redacted][/pre-story]
Chapter 2: The Confession
Jessica narrowed her eyes as she leaned forward, hands planted on the table, staring intensely down at the scroll before her, carefully inspecting each and every line of ink. Andrew hovered nearby, the hulking minotaur standing back and to the side, his hands folded behind his back as he chewed his lower lip anxiously. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, the usually-quiet workshop dead silent. Even ever-diligent Alexandra found her attention drawn away from the crystal she was infusing to await the verdict with baited breath.
Finally, the silence broke when Jessica let out a sigh, straightening up once again and turning on on her heel to face Andrew, brow furrowed. “Your air runes are still too rigid. You have to let the brush flow, you can’t write every element like you do earth…” She chided, then paused, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “But... you’re getting much better. I know it’s hard to work against your affinity, and you’ve made a lot of progress.” She added, reassuringly, before turning back to the scroll and giving it one final look. “This will work, though it won’t last as long…” She muttered, suddenly grabbing the scroll and giving it back to Andrew. “Go set up the scribes, and then you’re dismissed for the evening.” She ordered.
Andrew’s face split into a grin as he visibly relaxed, wordlessly taking the scroll and spinning on a hoof, heading over to the scribing tables lined up against the wall. Jessica watched from afar as he laid carefully laid out the scroll on the first one, then blank scrolls on all the others. The corner of her mouth curled into a satisfied smirk. He really was making good progress, particularly since they’d come to their little ‘arrangement’, which she was also pleased to note, didn’t seem to diminish her authority in his eyes. Her gaze lingered on him, slowly drifting down until she realized she was ogling his tight butt through his trousers and abruptly spun back around, tearing her gaze away. Her eyes fell upon Alex, the ashen-skinned dark elf’s own gaze swiftly pulling away from Andrew as well, only to meet her teacher’s. Her eyes widened in a moment of panic, and she swiftly spun around in her seat, suddenly completely focused on her infusion. Jessica smirked once more, striding across the workshop to stand just behind her elven pupil.
“See something more interesting than your assignment? Jessica asked, a teasing lilt to her voice, leaning over the girl’s shoulder.
Alex stiffened, then slumped a bit in her seat as she realized she was well and truly caught. “I’m sorry, Miss Springs, I got distracted…” She tried to explain.
Jessica straightened up, shaking her head and holding up a hand to cut her off. “You’re not in trouble, Alexandra. You’re free to work at your own pace, as long as your assignment gets done.” She explained, pausing for a moment, a look of concern flickering across her face. “...But if there’s something distracting you, it would be wise to address it.”
“I’m all finished with the quills, Miss Springs!” Andrew called from across the workshop, drawing a glance from both girls as he headed for the door. Behind him, the scribing tables were already busy, six floating brushes moving in unison, tracing the lines of his completed scroll onto blank sheets. “I’m heading out!” He added, giving a small wave as he ducked his horns through the doorframe, disappearing out the door with surprising speed, considering his bulk.
Alex stared at the empty doorframe for a moment, her hand slowly sinking back down after waving goodbye. She glanced up at Jessica, then sighed, looking down again. “...Can I ask you something?”
Jessica arched an eyebrow, curious. “Of course.”
Alex looked up again, meeting her teacher’s eyes. “What did you do to Drew?”
Monday, October 17, 2016
Monday, October 3, 2016
Musing: Tatsu's Present
[pre-story]A belated birthday present for Ryu112. As always, remember, if you like what you see [redacted][/pre-story]
Tatsu's Present
“~MUUUHHH!”
The draenei’s sweet voice was ragged and heavily muffled, her fangs sinking into the cherry red ball gag firmly wedged between her jaws as she cried out with yet another mind-shattering climax. Her soft lavender skin was glistening with a sheen of sweat, the color a stark contrast to the glossy red ribbons artfully wound over her nubile body, binding her arms behind her back as she writhed with ecstasy. Deep purple nipples, hard as diamonds, capped a pair of full, shapely breasts, the stiff peaks tracing crazy patterns in the air as her mounds bounced and jiggled each time her lover thrust into her once more. Her long, silky, snowy white hair, once neatly styled and coiffed, loosely tied back with a delicate bow, was now a mess, loose strands clinging to her cheeks, the pristine bow crumpled in the iron grip of her lover, used as crude reigns to hold her head and chest up off the cold, hard ground as he ravaged her from behind. Each savage thrust of his hips made her entire body jolt, forcing a new muffled cry from her throat as her flat stomach warped around the impossibly massive intruder.
Tatsu's Present
“~MUUUHHH!”
The draenei’s sweet voice was ragged and heavily muffled, her fangs sinking into the cherry red ball gag firmly wedged between her jaws as she cried out with yet another mind-shattering climax. Her soft lavender skin was glistening with a sheen of sweat, the color a stark contrast to the glossy red ribbons artfully wound over her nubile body, binding her arms behind her back as she writhed with ecstasy. Deep purple nipples, hard as diamonds, capped a pair of full, shapely breasts, the stiff peaks tracing crazy patterns in the air as her mounds bounced and jiggled each time her lover thrust into her once more. Her long, silky, snowy white hair, once neatly styled and coiffed, loosely tied back with a delicate bow, was now a mess, loose strands clinging to her cheeks, the pristine bow crumpled in the iron grip of her lover, used as crude reigns to hold her head and chest up off the cold, hard ground as he ravaged her from behind. Each savage thrust of his hips made her entire body jolt, forcing a new muffled cry from her throat as her flat stomach warped around the impossibly massive intruder.
Musing: Halloween at the Johnson's- Part 2
Halloween at the Johnsons’, Part 2
Before her father could muster a response, Sam flourished with her Indigo cloak, stepping to the side just as another figure emerged from the darkness into the pool of light on the front porch. Aiko’s identity was immediately obvious, and not just because her black domino mask did almost nothing to hide her face. Her hair was, admittedly, hidden beneath a wig of short black hair spiked up and back, but there was no mistaking the short girl on his doorstep for anyone else.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Musing: Dibella's Gift
[pre-story]Another short patreon musing, this one suggested by Iceman77! I had fun writing this one! I couldn't decide on the dragonborn at first, but then I had an idea for something new, something to mix things up a bit, and then it all came together. This is my first futa story! I admit, it's a little more difficult to write a futa than I expected, and it probably doesn't help that there were a lot of ladies involved here so pronouns got all mixed up sometimes, but it was interesting. Maybe I'll continue this later on, who knows. Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
“This way.” A priestess in brown robes and a yellow-gold hood and mantle spoke, gesturing the dragonborn to follow her deeper into the temple. The proud imperial woman followed, walking with a confidence forged in dragonfire, passing between a pair of golden statues of the goddess Dibella, her beauty so radiant that even those icons of beauty and womanhood seemed pale by comparison. She was like a dream come to life. Men and women alike lusted over her, over her breasts, perfectly-formed and shapely mounds the size of ripe melons, over her hourglass curves, over her thick, jiggling backside and long, shapely legs. Others envied her for her smooth, pale, flawless skin, her full, plush, pink lips, her regal features, her commanding presence, her subtle strength. She was dressed lightly, wearing only a knee-length green dress with a slit running up one thigh and a leather corset around her narrow waist, the plunging neckline exposing a deep valley of flawless, creamy cleavage. But despite her beauty, there was a coldness to her, she seemed somehow untouchable, unapproachable, and no matter what brave soul made an advance on her, she always turned them down cold. Her soft leather boots padded across the stone floor, only to suddenly come to a stop as her guide halted in front of a pair of dwemer-made double doors. “In here.” She said, pushing them open.
“This way.” A priestess in brown robes and a yellow-gold hood and mantle spoke, gesturing the dragonborn to follow her deeper into the temple. The proud imperial woman followed, walking with a confidence forged in dragonfire, passing between a pair of golden statues of the goddess Dibella, her beauty so radiant that even those icons of beauty and womanhood seemed pale by comparison. She was like a dream come to life. Men and women alike lusted over her, over her breasts, perfectly-formed and shapely mounds the size of ripe melons, over her hourglass curves, over her thick, jiggling backside and long, shapely legs. Others envied her for her smooth, pale, flawless skin, her full, plush, pink lips, her regal features, her commanding presence, her subtle strength. She was dressed lightly, wearing only a knee-length green dress with a slit running up one thigh and a leather corset around her narrow waist, the plunging neckline exposing a deep valley of flawless, creamy cleavage. But despite her beauty, there was a coldness to her, she seemed somehow untouchable, unapproachable, and no matter what brave soul made an advance on her, she always turned them down cold. Her soft leather boots padded across the stone floor, only to suddenly come to a stop as her guide halted in front of a pair of dwemer-made double doors. “In here.” She said, pushing them open.
Musing: Halloween at the Johnson's- Part 1
[pre-story]Just a little peek at what Mr. Johnson and the girls get up to on halloween. [redacted][/pre-story]
“uUUURRN~!”
A deep, angry groan echoed from inside the house. Heavy, ponderous footfalls sounded, drawing closer and closer with every thud. The door suddenly flew open, a massive figure looming in the threshold, a flash of light illuminating its pallid, scarred features, the deep rumble of thunder following swiftly after. It stared down at the children before it from beneath a heavy brow marred by an oozing horizontal gash, held together by dozens of heavy-duty staples. An inhuman rage flashed in in its sunken, staring eyes. The filthy suit hanging off its hulking frame was in tatters, the sleeves shredded to ragged strips around the monster’s powerful limbs. The creature moved stiffly, awkwardly, sections of its immense frame seemingly held together by nothing more than bands of crude stitching. The heavy iron bolt driven through its thick neck shifted as it moved suddenly, lurching forward and reaching towards the young ones before it. “UHRRRRRHHH!” It bellowed furiously.
“Trick or treat!” the trio of children chorused with practiced, saccharine tones. They dug their hands into the bowl the monster clutched, pulling away a moment later clutching greedy, overflowing handfuls of candy, so large they could barely hold together long enough make it into the pillowcases the children carried. Their prizes secure, the children turned and ran off across the lawn toward their next target, dodging the tombstones sticking out of the grass. As they stepped out of the area of the porch light, one childish voice remarked casually, just loud enough for his words to carry to the door. “Who’s supposed to be afraid of Frankenstein, anyways? Babies?”
“uUUURRN~!”
A deep, angry groan echoed from inside the house. Heavy, ponderous footfalls sounded, drawing closer and closer with every thud. The door suddenly flew open, a massive figure looming in the threshold, a flash of light illuminating its pallid, scarred features, the deep rumble of thunder following swiftly after. It stared down at the children before it from beneath a heavy brow marred by an oozing horizontal gash, held together by dozens of heavy-duty staples. An inhuman rage flashed in in its sunken, staring eyes. The filthy suit hanging off its hulking frame was in tatters, the sleeves shredded to ragged strips around the monster’s powerful limbs. The creature moved stiffly, awkwardly, sections of its immense frame seemingly held together by nothing more than bands of crude stitching. The heavy iron bolt driven through its thick neck shifted as it moved suddenly, lurching forward and reaching towards the young ones before it. “UHRRRRRHHH!” It bellowed furiously.
“Trick or treat!” the trio of children chorused with practiced, saccharine tones. They dug their hands into the bowl the monster clutched, pulling away a moment later clutching greedy, overflowing handfuls of candy, so large they could barely hold together long enough make it into the pillowcases the children carried. Their prizes secure, the children turned and ran off across the lawn toward their next target, dodging the tombstones sticking out of the grass. As they stepped out of the area of the porch light, one childish voice remarked casually, just loud enough for his words to carry to the door. “Who’s supposed to be afraid of Frankenstein, anyways? Babies?”
A Satyr's Sacred Seed- Ch. 1
[pre-story]Hey there, Squish here, with a brand-new commission from Galbuscho, featuring a couple of characters you may be familiar with, Varossion the satyr and Alika the enirii! I’m not gonna lie, this one gave me a lot of trouble, but once I stopped trying to force it to match up with my initial plans, I had a lot of fun with it. This is part one, so there should be more of this sooner or later, provided the commissioner sticks around. This is kind of a successor to the story The First Kiss of the Life Seed, so if you want to see a little more of Alika, go check it out!
As always, if you like what you see [redacted]
Content Warnings: Impossible anatomy (huge cock, excessive cum), ball worship, cum-play[/pre-story]
Chapter 1: Seeking a Sweeter Satyr
The cool morning air of the glade was was still, silent but for the songs of birds and the buzz of insects, the soft, emerald grass glistening with a fresh coat of morning dew in the golden shafts of sunlight filtering down through the canopy above. This was a sacred place, where the Shrouded Woods thinned, the towering trees and dense underbrush kept at bay by the will of the Green God, leaving a pristine glade where the Enirii could perform their most sacred rites. All around the edges of the space, like silent wardens watching over the glade, stood a ring of ancient stone statues, all different sizes, some depicting curvaceous, womanly figures, fertile bellies swollen with the gift of life, others depicted strong, masculine figures with goatlike legs and crowns of antlers, wielding unyielding erections, while still others were simpler, towering monoliths of virility, carved stone phalluses that would never soften. Flowering vines wound over the stone surfaces, embracing the fertile female and virile male icons, and climbing up the masculine pillars like bulging veins. Atop each icon, there sat a wreath of fresh flowers, tokens of faith from the Greenleaf tribe that frequented the glade.
The undergrowth at the edge of the glade rustled, a curtain of leaves parting as a youthful, womanly figure tentatively emerged into the open space. She was nude but for her beaded jewelry, every inch of her soft, curvaceous form on full display, much of her flawless honey-tan skin tattooed a warm, earthy red, tribal patterns in the ink depicting leaves, flowers, sprouting seeds, suns, moons, and flames. A river of chestnut-brown hair flowed behind her, cascading down her shoulders and back, almost to her generous backside. The curtain of hair was held back out of her face by the ceremonial crown of leaves she wore, a woven circlet held together by a tiny statuette of feminine fertility, much like the ones ringing the the glade. She had no need for modesty, her body was a vision of perfection from head to toe. Her legs were strong and shapely, widening from small, delicate feet to thick, creamy thighs. Her hips were wide, generous by almost any measure, supporting the swaying, jiggling twin globes of a simply mouth-watering ass, and bearing a dense bush of soft chestnut-brown hair just above her womanhood, a thicket never trimmed or shaved, but naturally well-contained, leaving the lips of her womanhood soft and smooth. Her figure tapered sharply at the waist, only to widen out once more at the chest, giving her a clear hourglass shape. But above all else, her breasts were her most spectacular feature, mounds easily the size of ripe grapefruit and yet still flawless, standing proudly on her chest, the pillow-soft peaks capped with long, thick, dusky pink nipples that practically begged to be sucked. Young she may be, but there was no mistake, everything about her screamed that she was a woman, ripe and ready for breeding.
As always, if you like what you see [redacted]
Content Warnings: Impossible anatomy (huge cock, excessive cum), ball worship, cum-play[/pre-story]
Chapter 1: Seeking a Sweeter Satyr
The cool morning air of the glade was was still, silent but for the songs of birds and the buzz of insects, the soft, emerald grass glistening with a fresh coat of morning dew in the golden shafts of sunlight filtering down through the canopy above. This was a sacred place, where the Shrouded Woods thinned, the towering trees and dense underbrush kept at bay by the will of the Green God, leaving a pristine glade where the Enirii could perform their most sacred rites. All around the edges of the space, like silent wardens watching over the glade, stood a ring of ancient stone statues, all different sizes, some depicting curvaceous, womanly figures, fertile bellies swollen with the gift of life, others depicted strong, masculine figures with goatlike legs and crowns of antlers, wielding unyielding erections, while still others were simpler, towering monoliths of virility, carved stone phalluses that would never soften. Flowering vines wound over the stone surfaces, embracing the fertile female and virile male icons, and climbing up the masculine pillars like bulging veins. Atop each icon, there sat a wreath of fresh flowers, tokens of faith from the Greenleaf tribe that frequented the glade.
The undergrowth at the edge of the glade rustled, a curtain of leaves parting as a youthful, womanly figure tentatively emerged into the open space. She was nude but for her beaded jewelry, every inch of her soft, curvaceous form on full display, much of her flawless honey-tan skin tattooed a warm, earthy red, tribal patterns in the ink depicting leaves, flowers, sprouting seeds, suns, moons, and flames. A river of chestnut-brown hair flowed behind her, cascading down her shoulders and back, almost to her generous backside. The curtain of hair was held back out of her face by the ceremonial crown of leaves she wore, a woven circlet held together by a tiny statuette of feminine fertility, much like the ones ringing the the glade. She had no need for modesty, her body was a vision of perfection from head to toe. Her legs were strong and shapely, widening from small, delicate feet to thick, creamy thighs. Her hips were wide, generous by almost any measure, supporting the swaying, jiggling twin globes of a simply mouth-watering ass, and bearing a dense bush of soft chestnut-brown hair just above her womanhood, a thicket never trimmed or shaved, but naturally well-contained, leaving the lips of her womanhood soft and smooth. Her figure tapered sharply at the waist, only to widen out once more at the chest, giving her a clear hourglass shape. But above all else, her breasts were her most spectacular feature, mounds easily the size of ripe grapefruit and yet still flawless, standing proudly on her chest, the pillow-soft peaks capped with long, thick, dusky pink nipples that practically begged to be sucked. Young she may be, but there was no mistake, everything about her screamed that she was a woman, ripe and ready for breeding.
Monday, August 1, 2016
Musing: Overcome
[Pre-story]Musing #2 for July! Continuing from Overwhelmed, this one features those lovely ladies Mei and Zarya finally getting hot and heavy, but also a little bit intimate. The story's turning out longer than I thought it would, but that's not unusual. You can definitely expect to see some more of this as the months go on. [redacted] Anyways, enjoy![/pre-story]
Chapter 2: Overcome
Mei raised a fist, hesitated, swallowed, and finally brought it forward, knocking sharply on the stately wooden door of the room. The silence was deafening as she stood in the empty hallway, fidgeting nervously with the fluffy terrycloth belt that held her robe closed, toes wiggling in her hotel flip-flops. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe Zarya was just joking. Or worse, she was playing some kind of cruel trick, luring her out here so everyone would laugh at her… No, no, she was just being crazy now, there was no mistaking what that kiss had meant. Still, she felt so… exposed. The hotel robe only went down to mid-thigh, and it wasn’t quite big enough to completely hide her cleavage. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Mei looked up. “I-” She managed to squeak, only for the words to die on her lips as she processed what she was seeing.
Chapter 2: Overcome
Mei raised a fist, hesitated, swallowed, and finally brought it forward, knocking sharply on the stately wooden door of the room. The silence was deafening as she stood in the empty hallway, fidgeting nervously with the fluffy terrycloth belt that held her robe closed, toes wiggling in her hotel flip-flops. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe Zarya was just joking. Or worse, she was playing some kind of cruel trick, luring her out here so everyone would laugh at her… No, no, she was just being crazy now, there was no mistaking what that kiss had meant. Still, she felt so… exposed. The hotel robe only went down to mid-thigh, and it wasn’t quite big enough to completely hide her cleavage. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Mei looked up. “I-” She managed to squeak, only for the words to die on her lips as she processed what she was seeing.
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