Who Craves Being A Gloryhole. Who Would Give Anything To Have Their Legs Strapped Open And To The Wall,

Some people look better with less clothes and some of us were born with the painful absence of a Soviet era military winter overcoat

CW: Non-Con, Aphrodisiac nectar/sap, Plant Monster

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You knew this was a mistake.

Hiking—venturing into unknown trails—was definitely not something you would consider, much less actually do. But your friends, however well-intentioned they were, insisted that you needed to go out and explore, venture outside of your comfort zone.

And so, in order to please them, you booked a guide (nothing drastic, really). It was apparently beginner-friendly, with beautiful scenery and ‘untold’ sights—a glorified leisurely stroll. It sounded perfect for you, a wonderful plan, so you went.

It was nice, manageable until you somehow—miraculously, stupidly—got lost, strayed from the group long enough that they left you in the dust. Finding them should’ve been easy; there were paved trails and distinct signs, yet you managed to get even more lost.

You didn’t know how long you’d been wandering, but you were hungry, thirsty, and tired; you just wanted to rest. How did your friends let you go to this with your incredibly poor sense of direction? How did you let yourself go?

You paused at the sound of rushing water, concluding it was a good idea to follow (you were dying for a sip of water.) It didn’t take long for you to find the source—the walk was not long at all, as if you were already heading in the right direction anyway as if something was already luring you there before the sound.

You stopped at a gate, seemingly golden and decorated with roses. It appears to be well-kept, no tarnish to be seen. Why exactly is there a random gate in the middle of nowhere?

With just the slightest touch, the gate creaked open (you could’ve hopped over easily if it didn’t), and you, with hesitance and confusion, entered. It was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before: a breathtaking garden full of flowers and trees filled with leaves and fruits. It was beautiful. The subtle scent of fruit and nectar only lured you closer.

The waterfall was the first thing you reached. You cupped your hands into a bowl to collect the water, drinking until you were no longer parched. Then you continued, admiring the colorful plants along the way.

You could feel your fatigue leaving you with each step, with each breath of air, yet the deeper you entered the oddly enchanting garden, the sweeter the air became—enticing. You didn’t hear the gate close behind you, too entranced by the view.

Your stomach grumbled, and all you could do was comply with your hunger, plucking a succulent fruit from one of the trees. The fruit was odd, unknown to you; it should’ve made you pause—sunk caution into your bones—but it didn’t. You were hungry before, but now, with fruit in hand, you were starving.

Your teeth pierced its flesh, its juices sliding down your throat as you devoured it. It was mouthwatering, a taste you had never known but now can never forget. You reached for another, and another, and another until you were full—stomach feeling as if it’s one fruit away from bursting. You took a seat, leaning against the trunk of the tree and resting.

You were worried about how you would get back, but you figured (in an attempt to stay positive) that they would eventually send out a search party and find you. After all, you found this place pretty easily, and you couldn't have strayed that far, right?

Your eyelids felt heavy; even with the sun still up, you felt exhaustion weighing on you. A small nap wouldn’t hurt.

You still felt so tired, not knowing you had already slept for jours. You felt warm, limbs heavy, and eyes feeling glued shut—wielded together with exhaustion and enervation. You didn’t move or shift; even if your mind was half awake, you couldn't.

That had a prickling thought of panic rising inside your brain, the rapid beating of your heart and the quickening of your breath being the only indication of your growing distress and anxiety. You couldn’t quite feel your surroundings, your sense of touch dulled, and the grass underneath you was not even a tickle.

A slight pressure met your lips, parting them delicately before slipping inside, stuffing your mouth full with its soft presence. A smooth substance glided down your throat; its taste was sweet and intoxicating. You gulped it down with no resistance, mind growing hazier with each drop.

The muscles in your limbs loosened, relaxing them, making you malleable and compliant. The heaviness faded into something else. You could feel yourself growing hot, arousal pooling in your underwear.

Something wrapped around your body, tugging at your clothes and removing them—taking your soaked panties and leaving you exposed. The thing inside your mouth slid out with a pop, retreating.

Then it—whatever ‘it’ is—raised you in the air, holding you by your legs, blood rushing to your head. You should’ve been alarmed, but with a brain full of cotton, all you could focus on was the throbbing of your cunt. You pried your eyes open, petals filling your vision. Vines enveloped you, blossoming flowers adorning it as it held you upside down, wrists tied together.

It spread your legs, one vine poking and prodding at your folds, soaking in your arousal. More vines slithered to your chest, fondling your breasts and curling around your nipples.

You squirmed, breathy moans leaving you. The vines continued, some slipping past your folds, one pressing against your clit while the other worked you open. You never felt anything like this before, moaning and whimpering for more.

It slipped out, having you clench around nothing with a whine. A large white bud blossomed in front of you, revealing (something you would’ve questioned more had the nectar not done its job) a flowery cock. It’s throbbing and warm as it enters your hole, fucking you with vigor and filling you with its sap, mouth falling open in a cry.

Another stuffs your mouth, and you greedily drink the liquid leaking from it, sucking and slurping with hot pleasure coursing your body. It pounds into you, its cocks hitting all the right spots as the vines fondle your breasts.

You scream when your climax hits you, the pleasure overwhelming as your body shakes and shudders, the flowery cocks following and spilling its seed inside you.

It seems the other plants in the garden grow curious, crowding you, feeling you all over, tasting your cum with its vines. They all take turns, another plant cock fucking you once the other ones are done cumming in you.

It repositions you, bending you over as some enter your ass, others shoving more vines down your throat. It’s all too much, making you cum too quickly from having the feeling of it in all your holes.

You have its sap leaking out of you, drooling around another cock as it takes you. It has you cuming over and over again, breeding you as your mind fizzles out from it, only caring about being fucked and filled.

This is all you are good for; this is where you belong, and it thinks so, too

bubble (pixiv51545000)

I need someone to fuck me with balls so achingly full that one load doesn't stop for thirty seconds. Thirty seconds of getting my body filled to the brim but they don't care that I'm so full I'm leaking around their huge cock they still have more loads to fill me with. I definitely don't have a thing for excessive unrealistic amounts of cum

can I just say I'm a big fan of invisible cock too, or portals accessing really big insertions that you can't see from the outside....wearing something fitted and skimpy, like a cute little snug crop top, maybe a little flared skirt and tights, and if you spread my legs all you see are my cute panties, but I have a huge gut bulge that looks suspiciously like a horse cock embedded in my guts, and I'm soaked, because somewhere on the other side of that portal, someone is using me as their own personal stress relief ~

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

A big kink for me that i never see anyone else talking about is belly riding.

Like yes step me onto the bottom of a dragon or centaur or beast and just be a good little cock sleeve. We could travel for miles, days, and just whenever he feels like fucking me he doesn't even have to move. Just humps and I'm right there waiting

And when he's done just leave his limp dick in me and continue on

.

had a couple ideas, so feel free to use both, neither, or modify them however you see fit! both involve a cocky adventurer lady having a bad time while trying to solo a dungeon. idea 1: involves her body being invaded by slime creatures just curiously exploring all of her holes (and maybe deciding not to leave said holes) and idea 2: involves her getting trapped in the sticky goop of some giant slugs, and them doing whatever giant slugs would do to a completely immobilized, fertile, young woman!

thanks for taking the time to read this, love your work!! also could i be 🦨 anon? :3c

Kabr0z Writes episode 101: Dungeon Slime

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

I have an AO3!

CWs: Dubcon; slime; suffocation; impregnation; uterine penetration; living clothing;

A/N: I actually got that AO3 account a little while back, but have literally no idea how that site works. Tumblr is still the first and foremost place to find my writing, but with recent outages it's never a bad idea to diversify!

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The tunnel smelled of old stone and piss. It wasn't actually piss, you knew that, the lichen clinging to the engraved walls just gives off ammonia. The ammonia, of course, smells of piss. You rubbed some away, the plant leaving a slick residue on your bracer as the engraving underneath was revealed to you. You were in the right place. The lost fortress of Urdimnish, Trade Tower.

You were here for a reason, of course, the Auric cell at the heart of the tower once kept an entire civilisation of magitech animunculi ticking. If it lived up to even half of the hype, the dwarves would pay a fortune for it. Enough to retire on and then some.

The gate was a simple enough mechanism, warded locks were state of the art when the city was built, easy pickings for any would-be adventurer. The real trick was finding your way through the labyrinthine tunnels carved through the mountain. Most of them weren't ever designed for anyone over about four feet tall, the ones that didn't require you to stoop were the palatial great halls and passages Dwarven architecture was known for.

You passed throne rooms and treasuries, hoards of silver and gold enough to purchase your wildest dreams. You filled a pocket or two, but you knew it's chicken feed compared to the real prize. Deeper and deeper you delved, through lifeless corridors. Nobody knew entirely what happened to the primordial dwarven culture that built this place. One day, it seemed they all decided to leave their burrows and fortifications, never to be seen again. Who knows, maybe someone will find some clue here through careful study of the engravings on the walls.

At last you reached the floor you wanted. The corridors were hot this deep, the bowels of the earth warming the smooth stone. Maybe that's why there's no lichen this deep? Your torch flickered in your hand, glinting off polished brass fixtures in the walls. The deeper you crept, the more copper and brass shone back at you, until you saw it. A glass ball, roughly the size of your head. Gold flecks swam in the crystal, chasing one another around the orb as you watched. This couldn't be anything but the Auric cell hidden here, at the deepest darkest pit of the long-lost fortress. Thick gloves protected your hands as you reached for it, the warmth of the cells surface radiating out as your fingers brushed the glass.

It wasn't glass. Your hands sunk into the surface of the cell as the surface slid over your arms, then up to your shoulders. You flinched back, but the orb came with you, receding in size as it covered you in a paper-thin film of hot, gold-tinged fluid. It reached your chest, sliding under your armour and over your tits before venturing down your belly, slipping over your suddenly all-to-exposed stomach. The glassy liquid flowed upwards too, you pressed your lips together as it covered them, sliding into your nostrils and over your eyes. Gold motes danced over your vision. Your head swum as your lungs burned. You needed to take a breath.

The glass lurched downwards, coating your clit in a hot sheen of fluid, sliding down to press at your hole. The sudden sensation made you gasp on reflex, sucking in a gobbet of the shiny liquid. It coated the inside of your mouth in moments, slipping down your throat as a tendril pushed its way into your cunt. The slime felt around your insides, pressing and prodding at your folds and inner walls, finding its way into every corner of you. The thin film started retreating from your sinuses, clearing your nose as more was redirected into your slick cunt.

You took a breath. You'd fallen, but mustn't have noticed when you landed, legs apart on the stone floor. The growing mass of fluid glass in your cunt was pulsing, getting larger and hotter. You groaned as it stretched you out, leaning back as your hips rolled back, opening you beneath your clothes to nobody in particular. The film over your clit shivered; a soft steady buzzing sending warmth through you in waves. More of the slick, firm substance caressed your nipples, sucking and squeezing at them as you felt them harden and stand on end.

The substance probed at your cervix. You gasped as it slid through the tight gap like water through a sieve, sliding around your womb. More and more of it piled into you, until it was all focused on your cunt. You lay down as your hands strayed to your tits, slipping under your linen top to caress the soft skin, fingers pinching at your nipples as the humming, buzzing slime filled you, shifting around inside as it got comfortable.

A sharp pain made you gasp, just a little cramp radiating from your now-swollen belly, drowned out by a wave of pleasure that flowed from your occupied belly. A groan escaped you as you lost yourself to the flow of relief, submerging into your orgasm like a warm bath. It was the best lover you'd ever had, clenching around smooth curves that conformed to your every fold and crevice. It vibrated inside you in gentle pulses, elongating your sighs and moans of release until at last you came back down.

The creature was still inside you, round and warm. You could still feel it, gently humming away in your womb, a bump filled out your silhouette, like an expectant mother.

You took up your abandoned torch and turned to leave.

There's no way you're giving this to the dwarves.

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This is another "absurdly late from yesterday" episode, so don't worry, you're still getting another one tonight 😉

Also, I have literally no idea if the CWs on this one are appropriate, or if there's stuff I should've put but didn't... Answers on a postcard I guess

thinking about a marble statue being possessed by a lustful spirit or something like that, pinning you down easily with cold, rough hands that cut into your skin if you try to fight back too much. empty, expressionless eyes peering into your soul as it rips the clothes off your body. it doesnt mean to be so rough but its hard to have precise motor function when youre made of marble, so when it grabs at your soft, pliable flesh, its all too easy for it to leave bruises behind, making you feel everywhere it touches for several minutes after it moves on to the next tempting spot.

maybe you can watch as the spirit makes its carved cock grow into a monstrous stone dildo that you just know is gonna fucking hurt before it even starts to stretch you open around it. and when it finally does force its way inside you, all you can do is gasp and squirm at the cold, unyielding intrusion. wonder if youd be too shocked to cry at that point, surely it hurts to have something so stiff force its way soo deep inside you, even if your perverted hole is soaked enough that it slides in smoothly. do you think youd hear the creak of its nonexistant joints over your desperate whines? do you think when the spirit cums and is satisfied, itd just... leave the statue just like that, pinning you in place with its morphed cock and heavy hands? while you just writhe there, humiliated by the prying eyes of those who pass by? what do you think people would think of you? that youre some kind of pervert that couldnt help but fuck yourself on this statue? or do you think theyd believe your story, that you just suddenly got pounced on by it? do you think theyd try to help you, or take advantage of your position by jerking off onto the both of you?

much to think about

huge dildo set up on a stool that's just too high for the sub to reach on his own so his dom picks him up around the waist and lifts him over it

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

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

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