Thinking About Being Strapped To The Underside Of A Four Legged Creature (something Similar To A Centaur,

[ 18+ content. Dehumanization. Centaur. Human Cocksleeve. Lactation. Hyper cum. Cumflation. Breeding. Permanent Bondage. ]

When you'd read an advertisement to work at a centaur product facility, you weren't quite sure what the job description entailed. When you found out that the job was a full-time position that accounted for room and board, it had you pretty well convinced.

When you found out, it was far too late to take it back.

You awoke with a pinching stretch in your cunt— making you gasp aloud. The sounds were muffled by a gag nestled within your mouth, brows furrowing as you attempted to squirm in your bindings. In a series of tight leather straps, you had been tied beneath the belly of a large centaur. Your back pressed tightly to his stomach, its cock sheathed deep within you, as though you were little more than a cocksleeve for the beast.

Each step it took out of the stable rustled you, shifting you back and forth on it's massive dick. Drool slicked up your gag as you moaned, the flat tip of its cock bullying your cervix with each step. As it headed out to pasture, you suddenly became aware of how exposed you were. Farmers on the plant were about doing their chores, eyeing your bare naked form. Each step bounced your hanging tits, your mewling louder when the centaur picked up pace.

It trotted along, heavy balls slapping against your cunt every few seconds. You clenched each time, eyes fluttering as your brain emptied. The shame slipped away as the cock buried in you began to throb, your hips desperately trying to grind back against the behemoth. Instead of continuing its trot, the centaur stopped, huffing and heaving. To keep you bobbing back and forth, it thrusted forward with brutal force, uncaring towards you and anything other than its own pleasure.

Filthy, wet slapping emanated about the field, attracting the interest of other centaurs. It appeared you weren't the only new toy, all of you strapped in one to a centaur. Each of the other toys' bellies bulged with each thrust, the massive cocks of the centaurs far too much for the average human. Some of them had obviously been around longer than you— some dripping milk from their tits, and some bloated, cunts dripping with several loads of thick, potent centaur seed.

Your centaur began to shudder, thrusts growing more desperate and uncoordinated. Already accepting to your new role, your heartbeat sped up, eager to take the beast's cum. As you cried out into your gag, he finally came, continuing to haphazardly thrust as your cunt was filled up. It didn't take long at all to expand your stomach, making you feel full and dizzy.

Before long at all, you could hear the squelching of the centaur's cum leaking out of your hole, only serving to slick up the slap of its nuts against your clit. Full, hot, and bred, your eyes rolled back as you came, clenching hard on the monster cock filling you up.

Despite your sensitivity, the beast did not care. After finishing its load, it huffed, steadying its back hooves before continuing to plow your cunt— dead set on turning you into the perfect fuckhole.

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

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

"my son turned out fine"

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

I don't need therapy I need one of those gallons-of-cum monsters to make me into a goddamn eclair

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

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

fucking (or being used as a toy by) a creature that turns to stone in the daylight. As it finally knots and cums into you the sun rises, and you find yourself trapped on their literally rock-hard body, unable to move, still drooling around their cock... but bc it's not been exposed to the daylight, the cum just keeps slowly pumping into you, and you can't move bc their cock and knot are stone, just have to stay there like a statue as you get bigger and bigger until night finally falls again... and hope they won't want to keep breeding you...

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

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

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

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

I finish and there is a long pause.

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

Just read episode 51 and that was hot as hell. Especially the way she fucked herself on his cock and ground that flare into her cervix to stop him going soft and his cum leaking out of her.

Thank you so much!

Would love to see something where she ends up being strapped to him again as a breeding bitch for him or other centaurs, and eventually with her pregnant belly hanging down too.

Kabr0z Writes Episode 81: Alternative ending

This story won't make sense if you haven't read episode 51!

And here's the rest of the anthology!

CWs: Noncon; kidnap; forced impregnation; freeuse; belly riding; Lots of the same issues as the first iteration. Please look that one over, if it's too heavy this one will be too

A/N: Think of this as a "What If..?" for episode 51. I'm not sure which will wind up being canon if I agglomerate a universe around this, but it doesn't really matter either way

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You solicited the help of a centaur to escape a city. It was a desperate gambit, strapped to the underside of a half-horse half-man to slip by the gatehouse through the one un-warded route out.

He never met back up with his partner, diverting South into the woodlands. He ran for miles with you suspended under him, his gargantuan cock softening and slipping out of you within minutes of leaving the city walls. A trail of cum leaked from you as you struggled under his belly. The knots were tight, the ropes stout. Every move you made only served to bind you tighter.

Eventually he stopped running, alighting on a stand of dark oak trees, sheets strung from tree to tree making up awnings. His home. He never bothered to remove you.

Day after day, he'd take you. Every time would start the same, that cock would start dangling below you. You were helpless to do anything but watch as it slid out to its full length, dangling below the centaur's knees. He'd let it hang there a moment, steaming in the cold winter air.

Slowly, it would harden. Thickening from the base downwards. Swinging up towards you over and over, slapping against your belly. Every swing hit your cunt, slinging a thread of sticky precum at you as it slapped your flesh. Over and over it would swing, the flared tip engorging with each stroke. Sometimes he's get too stimulated from just slapping his cock against you and a gout of cum would erupt from him, covering you and dripping onto the dirt floor.

Today was not one of those days. Today he wouldn't be satisfied with anything but your cunt. You felt him grab the ropes, leaning back to haul you towards his front legs so when the pendulous cock swung up the tip threatened your hole, slicking it with precum. He stepped up to a fallen log, bracing you against it as he swung into you again, pushing the flare into you. You were well-used to the thickness of it by now. That didn't stop it making you gasp as you felt it wedge you open. It wasn't as hard as the actual shaft of his cock, but it was as thick as both of your fists held together. Firm, with just enough give to avoid doing serious harm to you, the flare held him into you. He thrust. The weight of his body pressing you down into the rough bark of the log. The cock forced itself deeper into you. You stifled a sob as it bottomed out on your cervix, then pushed harder, sliding past and into the fornix. Here he rested a moment. The flare pressing into the very back wall of your pussy.

You tried to catch your breath, feeling the cock stretching you, pressing into your guts. The centaur shuddered slightly, the wobbling motion shaking him inside you. You whined as the cock shook you to the core. He grunted, seemingly taking your noise as a challenge as he pressed you back against the log, bracing your chest into it as he thrust in harder, forcing you back down towards his hips. You felt him stretching you, pushing the limits of your depth.

You felt his sheath. The very base of his cock. He started galloping. The movement shook you, rubbing his member against your insides. Faster and faster he ran, leaping boughs and streams until he stopped.

With a howl, he came. You felt it, the familiar pressure of the cum flooding you. You could feel yourself bloating. The force of the cum fought the still almost-hard cock occupying your quim. He flopped out of you, the cock still standing strong as it pointed instead at your dangling face. A rope hit you, painting you in the strong smelling seminal fluids of your kidnapper. He wasn't done yet. More came, painting your belly, then still more, squirting onto the ground before the dripping mass of cockmeat started to recede back into him.

Weeks passed, every day bringing more attempts to flood you with his seed, some more successful than others. One day you could deny it no more, your belly was growing. He didn't feed you enough to grow fat, even with your now sedantary lifestyle. There was only one explanation.

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One of these days, I'll get the drop on these things. Until then, I'm gonna be pulling more late nights.

Semi-unrelated, if you're in the UK and have £10 to spare, you can get a subscription to the National Theatre's streaming service. It's pretty good

Mimic sex toys. Like, in the middle of what you think is a solo sesh, the dildo just starts thrusting into you on its own and pumps you full of cum.

I love being tied up so I'm on my tiptoes, struggling to keep upright with the tip of a huge dildo in my cunt and nipple clamps pulling my tits upwards. the second my legs get tired and I have to put my heels down for a break, I'm met with my nipples being pulled too far to the ceiling, a vibrator pummeling my clit and a cock far too big buried deep in my pussy

'if it starts to get too much, you can always try getting back on your tiptoes darling. or is my little slut incapable of controlling her own body as soon as she starts getting fucked like the whore she is?'

leave me there for hours as I go between wobbling on my aching legs, and my nipples being tortured whilst I cum over and over