mind the gap

Molly/Curse. 25. they/it/fae. 18+

[cursedamulets]

Never had a specifically nsfw blog before and I'm already bad at blog organization, but I'm here, queer, and horny. Veeeeeeery little is off limits but my faves are noncon, breeding, terato, and intox. Come back later for more organization?

[beautyandthemonsters]

You are a mtf reader who just started working on a farm. The old farmer is very appreciative to have a youngster helping him, that he doesn't have the stamina for it. The main job he gives you is to tend to his four cows. You're surprised to find that it's not four cows but four cow hybrids. They are looking forward to getting milked and fucked by you, the old farmer doesn't have the stamina for it.

Milking Four Good Cows (mtf!reader x 4 fem!cow!hybrids)

Detailed pairing: mtf!reader (male genitals) x fem!cow!hybrids (Bessie, Buttercup, Clover, Daisy)

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, consensual, PIV, lactation/milking, fingering, multiple partners, bodily fluids.

Summary: You take a job on an old farmer's land, expecting four ordinary cows. What you find instead are four desperate, milk-swollen cow hybrids… You become their new personal milker.

This request has inspired me to write another part with the same old farmer but this time with a reader who has to milk bullmen. I will work on it and update soon. Also, I see your requests and love them but they are a lot, so I need some time to get to them. Be patient please! Thank you!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

You weren't sure what you expected when you answered the ad.

"Help wanted. Farm work. Room and board included. Must be able to lift 50lbs and not scare easy."

The old farmer who met you at the gate had a grizzled beard, a wide-brimmed hat stained with sweat and years, and eyes that looked like they'd seen every season and then some. He shook your hand with a grip that was surprisingly firm for a man who admitted, right there on the porch, that his back had given out on him three winters ago.

"You're a godsend," he rasped, nodding toward the weathered red barn at the edge of the property. "Got four girls in there. Best milk you've ever tasted. But they're... particular."

You raised an eyebrow. "Particular how?"

He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "You'll see."

The first morning, you walked into that barn with a bucket in one hand and a stool in the other, ready for the simple rhythm of squatting, pulling, and filling. What you found instead stopped you dead in your barn boots.

Bessie was the first to greet you. She had the wide, kind brown eyes of a Jersey cow, but her body—fuck—her body was something else entirely. Thick thighs that tapered into muscled calves and actual hooves, but from the waist up? A woman. A voluptuous woman with tanned skin, a swaying udder that hung heavy between her legs, and the most enormous, swollen tits you'd ever seen. Her nipples were the size of the end of your thumb, dark pink, glistening.

"New hand," she mooed, it came out as a moo-ugh, a throaty, needy sound.

Behind her, Buttercup, white with black spots scattered across her flanks and her full, round ass, pressed her udder against the wooden gate of her stall, her slit already wet as she shifted her weight.

Clover had auburn hair that fell in messy waves past her shoulders and teats that dripped white droplets onto the concrete floor in steady drips.

Daisy, the youngest, had freckles across her nose and her udder was so taut and distended that you could see the veins bulging under the skin.

You swallowed hard. "The farmer didn't mention you were... hybrids."

Bessie huffed. "The old man can't do it anymore. His cock stays soft. His hands shake. We've been aching, farmhand. Days and days of filling up with milk with no one to pull it out of us. We hate the machines, you see. Damn things, they lower the quality of our good milk." She shifted, and fuck, you heard the sound of her slick folds squelching together. "You look like you've got the stamina."

Your cock had already started to thicken in your jeans. You set down the bucket.

"Show me what you need."

Bessie didn't wait. She turned around in her stall, presenting herself to you like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her tail swished to one side, and there it was: her cunt, swollen and pink, dripping strings of translucent wetness down her inner thighs. Above it, her udder—four teats, each one engorged, the skin shiny and tight.

"Start with the milk," she said, looking back at you over her shoulder, her brown eyes half-lidded. "It hurts."

You dropped to your knees behind her. The stool was forgotten. Your hands—rough from a single morning of hauling hay—reached out and closed around the two front teats. They were hot. Hotter than you expected.

Bessie groaned. You squeezed, pulled, and a thick stream of white milk shot out, splattering against the metal bucket with a pssshhh. She jerked her hips back, almost knocking you over.

"Again," she gasped.

You worked her teats like you'd been doing it your whole life. Left hand, right hand, alternating tugs, getting into a rhythm. Squeeze-pull-squeeze-pull. The milk came faster, hissing into the bucket, filling it past the first quart mark. Bessie's whole body trembled. Her cunt clenched around nothing, pulsing with each tug.

"More," she whined. "Not just the milk. The other thing. The thing the old man can't do anymore."

You didn't need a diagram. You unzipped your jeans. Your cock sprang out—hard, veined, the head flushed and glistening with pre-cum. Bessie's nostrils flared.

"Oh, thank the pasture," she mooed. "That's a real one."

You lined yourself up behind her. Her cunt was soaking. You could see her inner lips—puffy, dark pink, wrinkled like rose petals —peeking out from her outer folds. The smell of her hit you: warm milk, earth, and a sharp, musky sweetness that made your balls tighten.

You pushed in.

Schlick.

Her cunt swallowed you whole. No resistance. Just wet, tight, clenching heat that pulled you deeper inch by inch until your hips slapped against her udder.

"FUCK," she bellowed, stomping one hoof against the concrete. "Yes, yes, yes—move, farmhand, move!"

You grabbed her wide hips and fucked her. Hard. Deep. The way she needed. Your balls slapped against her with each thrust, wet and heavy. Bessie was groaning, her head thrown back, her tits bouncing with each impact.

"Milk me," she sobbed. "Milk my cunt, not just my teats—both—I need—"

You reached around with one hand and grabbed a teat. You tugged it as you thrust. Milk sprayed sideways, hitting the wall. Bessie screamed.

"There—right there—I'm coming—"

She clamped down on your cock like a fist. Her cunt pulsed and gripped and milked you without you even moving. You felt your own release building, a heavy ache in your balls that spread up through your shaft.

You came inside her with a grunt. Hot ropes of cum flooded her pussy, mixed with her own slick, dripping out around your still-hard cock. Bessie sagged against the stall gate, panting.

"More," she whispered. "There are three more of us."

You pulled out of Bessie with a wet pop, your cock still slick with her milk-cum mix. She collapsed onto the hay, her udder now half-empty, her eyes blissed-out and glassy.

Buttercup was already pushing her way out of her stall, her white-and-black spotted body quivering.

"My turn," she mooed. "I'm so full, farmhand. Look."

She turned around and presented. Her teats were darker than Bessie's, almost purple at the tips, and her cunt... gods, her cunt was so needy, her inner lips sticking to each other with the sheer thickness of her arousal. A single drop of milk dangled from her left nipple, shimmering in the barn's dim light.

She bent over a trough, presenting herself at a better angle. You didn't hesitate.

You knelt and lathered her teats with your mouth first, because she whined when you touched her with dry hands. Your lips closed around her right teat, and you sucked.

Glug, glug, glug.

Milk filled your mouth. It was warm, creamy, slightly sweet—nothing like grocery store milk. You swallowed and kept sucking, your tongue circling the engorged nipple, feeling it harden further against your palate. Buttercup moaned, her whole body shivering.

"Fingers," she begged. "While you suck. Put your fingers in my cunt."

You shoved two fingers inside her without pulling your mouth off her teat. She was soaking, slick and hot and clenching around your knuckles. You pumped them in and out, crooking them slightly to hit that rough spot inside her, and she wailed.

"Yes, yes, fuck—I'm gushing—"

Her pussy spasmed, and a rush of clear, sweet-smelling fluid poured out of her, splashing onto your wrist and the bucket below. You sucked harder on her teat, pulling a long, hissing stream of milk that filled the bucket to the brim in seconds.

Buttercup came again, her walls pulsing around your fingers, her thighs shaking.

You stood up, your cock aching, and pushed into her from behind. She was so wet that you slid in to the hilt. No resistance. Just tight, milking walls that pulled at you with every thrust.

"Harder," she mooed. "The old man couldn't—harder—break my cunt open, farmhand, I need it—"

You grabbed her hips and slammed into her, your balls smacking against her folds, the wet clap-clap-clap of your fucking echoed off the rafters. Her udder swung beneath her, teats dripping milk onto the hay.

You came inside her too. A second load, just as heavy, just as hot, filling her pussy until it dribbled down her inner thigh.

Clover was next. She didn't wait for you to get on your knees. She pushed you down onto a bale of hay, straddled your face, and lowered her cunt onto your mouth.

"Lick," she pleaded. "Lick my slit. I've been waiting so long."

You did. You happily lapped at her folds, tasting milk and sweat and that musky sweetness that was all her. Her clit was a hard, swollen nub the size of a grape and it bobbed against your tongue. You sucked it between your lips and she cried out, her thighs clamping around your head.

While you ate her out, you also milked her. Hands pulling at her teats, squeezing thick streams of milk directly into the bucket. She came screaming 'farmhand' , her pussy pulsing against your tongue, her juices flooding your mouth.

You flipped her over onto her side in the hay and plunged into her, deep and unrelenting, her tits bouncing with each thrust, her mouth open in a silent O of pleasure. Her cunt overflowed, dribbling milk and cum mixed into a creamy mess that pooled under her tail.

Daisy was the last.

The youngest. The tightest. She was shy at first, her freckled cheeks flushed, hiding her udder like she was embarrassed. But her need won out.

"Please," she whispered. "I've never—the old man couldn't—I'm still untouched down there."

You were gentle with her.

You massaged her teats one by one, rolling the engorged nipples between your thumb and forefinger until milk spurted out in thin, hissing arcs. She moaned, her head falling back. You milked each teat until they were soft and empty, her udder deflated and satisfied.

Then you spread her legs. Her cunt was tighter, pinker, the inner lips barely peeking out. She was wet, though. Soaking. Her arousal had dampened the hay beneath her.

You pushed inside her slowly.

"Yes," she gasped. "More—I want—all of it—"

You gave her all of it. Every inch. You fucked her slow at first, then faster, then more roughly, your balls slapping against her, her moos turning into shrieks of pleasure.

She came violently, her cunt milking your cock in hard, clenching spasms that pulled your own orgasm out of you. You came deep inside her, filling her pussy with your seed.

When you finally stood up, your jeans around your ankles, your chest sheened with sweat and milk, you looked around the barn.

Four stalls. Four satisfied, spent cow hybrids, each one sprawled in the hay, their udders drained, their cunts gaping and dripping.

The buckets—all six of them—were full to the brim with milk. Some had overflowed, but there was enough to fill the farmer's fridge twice over.

The old man appeared in the doorway, leaning on his cane. He looked at the buckets. At the pleased cows. Four girls, purring and twitching in their hay. Then at you.

"Hired," he said. "Permanently. And triple your pay."

You wiped a streak of milk from your chin and grinned.

"Deal."

------

Stay tuned for the bullmen

[beautyandthemonsters]

[dilfpregcentral]

🫃3️⃣🍼🏢

🛑 💊 and/or 🔌

🦵🙇‍♂️⌛️💦

Thinking a ripe businessman 🤔

(Birth Denial Request Game)

Ugh I love pregnant businessmen… really like the idea of a high level exec with like 800 important projects frantically waddling around in a shirt like four sizes too big for him but the buttons are still straining around the torpedo triplet belly that enters rooms long before the rest of him. Everyone’s afraid to question him but they can’t help but stare at his visibly contracting belly, and he tells them yeah yeah he was supposed to have had the kids and be on paternity leave already, but it’s fine, he has so many loose ends to tie up!

He arrived at work at 7AM sharp with the labor suppressants on hand but he hasn’t taken them yet cause they’re an extreme measure. So even though he keeps having to stop during conversations to lean on tables and groan his way through brutal contractions, he still doesn’t think it’s time for the pills. He’s coated in sweat and idly circling his hips as he talks to coworkers, trying to find a way to stand where the lowest baby’s head doesn’t feel so heavy.

He’s touching base about his most important project at 10:00AM when he starts to feel the need to push. But he just… doesn’t. Resists it even though it makes him feel squirmy and uneasy and like he wants to scream. Mumbles, “Don’t push, dooon’t push” to himself as he tries and fails to jog to his office after, too bow-legged by the feeling that a head is about to fall out of him.

He manages to duck into his office’s private bathroom and get his pants off before his water breaks. But when he examines himself in the full length mirror, he finds the first baby already making a bulging dome of his pussy, and resigns himself to pushing it out. He leans back on a chair he brought in for this purpose and watches his cunt slowly flex open with each push, shuddering at the sight. The pressure makes his meta cock stand up, making it look as huge and swollen as it ever has.

After a good half hour of watching the head bob closer and closer to its widest point before sinking back in, it finally stays, spreading his hole in a tight crown. He throws his head back and groans in pain, toes curling as he drags his fingertips delicately over his taut cunt lips. He massages his perineum and applies counter pressure as the head slowly, slowly teases him, always looking ready to pop out. Finally it bursts out, and he yelps, shuddering. He delivers in a few more pushes.

By 11, he’s sent his first baby on its way with one of the nannies he’s had on standby and is ready to jump back in to his schedule. He tosses back a dose of labor suppressant pills before he goes, and they work like a dream. The contractions ease up enough that they’re practically background noise, only the pressure of a low head occasionally reminding him that birth is imminent.

He works all the way until 4PM before the pressure starts to be too intense to think through, and he decides he should probably at least check what’s going on down there. He steps into the empty office of someone who went home early and reaches into his pants—only to find a head peeking out into his underwear! It thrills him almost as much as it annoys him; they should really have a warning on the label if the pills can’t handle a birth canal that’s already opened for another baby.

Oh well. Nothing for it. He limps back to his office and drops into a squat as soon as he closes the door, groaning at the relief of his pelvis flaring open. He hisses through his teeth as the head surges forward, stinging his cunt, and cups his bulging lips, exhaling shakily as he tries to massage them. The positioning just happens to make his palm into a nice little divot for his swollen cock to rub against, and he feels it going rock hard as his cunt grows round and heavy with the barely-held head. He keeps it there, rocking his hips and massaging for a long while before finally the pressure is unbearable, and he starts to push.

He crowns quickly, and this time as he tends to his stretched lips, he circles his fingertips around his perked cock every once in a while, too, teasing it. When he births the head, the release of pressure almost feels like something more, so much so that it leaves his cock pulsing and tender to the touch. But he leaves the poor little thing lonely while he guides his second baby out, easily pushing out one shoulder and then the other.

After another nanny from his team whisks away the new child, and he rubs the limp, heavy shape of the one remaining in his womb. He glances at his watch, seeing it’s only a bit after 4:30. The pills might not be enough to get him through the business dinner tonight—hors d'oeuvres will start at 5:00, main course at 6:00, and the execs will probably want to stay for coffee after the sales guys leave, so that could go to 9 or 10, easy. And with his birth canal now twice-loosened… he needs something more.

He unlocks the special drawer of his desk and hums thoughtfully as he surveys the contents. His selection of toys has seen a lot of use during his pregnancy; sometimes nothing can satisfy the hormones like wearing a vibe all day or sitting on a dildo during a video call. But one item that hasn’t seen much use is a massive plug. He intended to use it to stretch himself out before the births, but his one attempt to get it in had failed after over an hour of trying. Now, though…

He spreads his legs, and gently holds his tender, birth-stretched lips back. He had to give up at 3/4ths of the way inside when he first tried it, but this time the plug glides easily to that depth. His aching birth canal clutches at it, and he rolls his head back, squirming in exquisite pain. With slow, gentle screwing motions back and forth, he works the plug in. It’s massive, but it still feels small compared to a head.

“Come on,” he moans, “come on, c—AH!” His body jerks as the plug pops inside, settling happily beyond the still remarkably elastic muscles around his opening, nudging heavily against his poor cervix. He cringes and squirms a little, feeling something almost like suction as his dilated cervix flexes around the blunt nose of the toy. “Ohhh fuck…”

It’s massive. His overused cunt stings around it and the discomfort of it peeking into his womb makes him feel almost sick, but he knows one thing for sure: that baby isn’t going anywhere while he’s plugged like this.

He staggers to his feet, and spends the whole time getting ready for the dinner groaning loud and long as the plug shifts inside him, its weight bullying his cunt for every moment. His little cock tents his briefs, standing so hard that he can even see it through his slacks, though he doubts anyone else would notice, especially beneath the shadow of his still-huge belly. Though he’s pushed out two of the triplets now, his womb still feels half-full, maybe more.

He’s still big enough that no one at the dinner seems to suspect that he’s already started delivering. They can tell he’s close, what with the slow, wincing, wide-stanced way that he walks, and how he can’t stop shifting when seated, but no one bothers him about it as he keeps his spirits high and the subject on business.

After it takes two employees to help him groan himself to his feet, he waddles heavily into the bathroom to check the plug. There’s so much pressure that he isn’t surprised when he sees his crotch bulging obscenely low, so stretched that it’s shaped like a head is halfway out of him even though there’s barely a glimpse of the dildo’s silicone between his puffy red lips. He shudders and strokes his perked dick, eyes rolling back at its sheer sensitivity.

Though he could spend hours touching his birth-swollen cunt, he knows the other execs are waiting for him in the lounge. He’s shuffling slow with a hand to his back and his hips heavily forward when he joins them. Without the employees to behave for, half the exec board is coming over to tease him about how close he looks, and tell him he really should be in the hospital, and feel his still-shockingly-taut belly beneath his straining shirt. He indulges in their attention, subtly rocking his hips to feel the massive plug.

But soon, too soon, he feels the breath-stealing cramp of a head splitting his cervix. His cunt lips sting, cupped between the weight of his plug-deformed pussy and the crotch of his slacks.

With ties loosened around the room and more than a little of someone’s flask of whiskey shared between most of the execs, they’re bolder in watching him. One of the board members reclines on a couch, trailing fingers over the stark line stretching the crotch of his slacks. The vice president of marketing sits on the arm of a chair, her sharp pencil skirt hiked halfway up her thigh and her hips rolling against the upholstery.

It’s the CFO who finally approaches him.

“What’s this?” His deep, cool baritone makes the pregnant man shudder, and that’s before the heavy hand with the Rolex on the wrist cups his bulging crotch. “The head’s coming?”

“No.” He groans and lets his head fall back, settling his weighty cunt in this powerful man’s hand. “Head’s… in my cervix. Mmh.” The suppressant is beginning to wear off, the single steady cramp he’s felt all around his pelvic cradle tightening into something with more promise. “Ohhhh…”

“Then what’s this?” The CFO gently hefts the weight in his hand, and the laboring exec moans wretchedly.

“Ohhh, fuck. It’s- a plug. It’s plugging me up. Keeping the baby in. But- I feel it coming.” Before he knows what’s happening, his cunt bulges and the plug presses firmly against the CFO’s palm. “Oh- fuck, I’m pushing… oh…”

The CFO makes a low, purring sound. He strokes the straining pussy in his hand. “Why don’t you show us, baby?”

His head spins, the burn in his pussy increasing as he pushes the head firmly into his cervix. The contraction passes, leaving him gasping, swaying his hips, groaning. The CFO, still holding him by the bulge of his crotch, guides him by the plugged pussy to an ornate rug in the middle of the room. He unbuttons the laboring exec’s slacks and tugs them down, along with his soaked underwear.

“Come on, be a team player and show us.”

His cock aches as he sinks shakily to his knees. As a contraction grips his lower back, he groans and falls forward onto his hands, leaving his bare pussy upturned between his legs, showing the room how it stretches obscenely around the massive plug. The whole room watches as more and more black silicone inches out.

“Holy shit, he really plugged his cunt up,” someone says.

The exec in the pencil skirt draws a knee up and lets a hand fall between her toned thighs, openly circling two manicured nails over the seam of her pantyhose. “He likes it. Being good and plugged for us this whole time.”

With a wrung-out moan, he releases the push, shuddering as he feels his lips suck the plug back in. He rocks in place, limbs trembling as the muscles in his lower body remain seized tight around the head in his cervix.

He’s still catching his breath when his belly tenses towards him again. He gasps, disoriented by how quickly that came on, what was that, a minute? 30 seconds?

“It’s coming,” he groans as his cunt squeezes uselessly around the plug. “The baby’s coming, I need to push it out…”

“Hm.” Footsteps behind him. Then, a playful tap on the base of the plug, barely a nudge but still enough to make him whimper and jerk away from the stimulus. “Well,” says the CFO, “I guess you need to push out this plug, first.”

The thing is, he could reach around and get the plug out of his own pussy if it came to it. There is no actual reason to continue to endure this pain, the gut-twisting discomfort of being blocked from birthing.

But his cock is so hard.

Panting, he hangs his head and pushes.

Though the plug is a bit smaller than the heads he’s already crowned today, the base is so unforgivingly flat that every time he gets close to expelling it, his burning, swollen cunt lips just won’t relinquish the corners. He can feel his cunt bulging out far, so stretched that he realizes with a lurch of twisted heat that it will never be the same after this.

And every time the plug sinks back in, the corner drags over his gspot, making his engorged cock jump at the peak of his yawning cunt.

He pushes for a long time, until his whole body quivers and drips with cold sweat. He manages to push the baby’s head through his cervix, but that only forces it in alongside the plug, making him wail as the plug wedges at an angle against the wall of his birth canal, straining it well beyond its ability and forcing his opening to stretch abruptly to the left.

“AUGH!” He sounds like a kicked dog, his voice coming in rasping barks and whines. “Fuck, I need it out, I need it out, the head, the head—!”

“Aw,” says the CFO, pulling out of the drooling minor exec who’s been choking on his cock, “it’s okay if you can’t do it. You should have told me it was too big.”

He pants, feeling the part of the child still in his womb bounce with his aching abdominal muscles. His cunt twitches futilely. Then, when a contraction comes, he tucks his chin to his chest and lows as he pushes with everything he’s got. The plug surges inside him, straining at his entrance for a second, two, three…

“AaaaaAAAAUGH!” A throat-tearing scream busts out of him just as the plug does. The hunk of silicone makes a thunderous noise when it hits the floor, and people around the room gasp and marvel at the sight of it.

The CFO laughs in delight and calls him a good boy, and he only half-listens, because the shoulders of his final baby just spread his cervix and the head is heavy in his cunt. After so much stimulation, the pressure of the skull on his gspot makes his cock so hard it stings.

“Ohhhhh…” he starts to rock on his hands and knees, swiveling his hips around. “Oh, please. I need it. There, there, there—“ he babbles desperately to his own body as he tries to position it just right, chasing that swelling, pulling feeling beneath the pain, that release just a breath away…

He contracts and screams as he pushes the head to a crown. “I’m so full,” he groans, “so full.” He hears exclamations and expletives as everyone looks at his swollen pussy framing the perfect circle of the emerging head. “So full, the pressure, it’s so, it’s so…” He goes down on his elbows and keeps rocking, moaning brokenly as the position piles pressure on his gspot. His cock is a burning, pulsing point of sensation.

“Ohhhh here it comes, here it comes, I’m gonna push it out, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—!” He goes lightheaded with effort and feels his cunt budge the head as it clenches, his cock tingling, and-

The sudden relief of birthing the head tips him over the edge, and he screams as he cums, rutting weakly in the air as his twitching cock goes overstimulated and untouched. It keeps washing over him, making him twist and grip at the carpet and keep pushing, and with a surge of agony and unbearable pleasure, he thrusts his hips back and cums out the shoulders.

He collapses with the baby still halfway in his cunt, eyelids fluttering, whole body pulsing. People are speaking to him, but he ignores them for the moment to enjoy the aftershocks; after all, his paternity leave has officially started.

[s33db3d-slob]

I see a lot of bugfucking but no love for termites?? Like the queens are literally insanely large and bloated with ovarioles compared to the workers to the point they can’t move and they constantly lay eggs??

Imagine a colony of elephant sized alien termites losing their old queen somehow, only to end up finding a new one in some random human just at the advent of breeding season. They’re quickly stripped and overpowered, but instead of being torn apart they have a huge bugcock shoved inside their cunt and SOMETHING pumped inside. It doesn’t take long for the new broodparent to find out what, as their body grows sensitive and their womb and ovaries swell as large as these bugs’ abdomens as eggs are released. Combined with the hormonal musk drifting from their crotch, it doesn’t take long for the breeding members of the colony to well and truly knock up their new breeder.

Over the coming weeks, the human swells even further with inhuman eggs, as well as pounds and pounds of fat so they have the energy to grow and push out even more eggs. Their chest, however, stays woefully neglected as the coming young won’t need milk. It initially drips and dribbles out from pressure, but eventually the ducts completely block. The human can only whimper and whine as their chest flies down through the alphabet and beyond.

By the time the first clutch is ready to come out, the human is unrecognizable. They’re practically just a massive womb attached to a glob of flesh at this point, with their obese thighs needing to be manually pulled out of the way to expose their bloated sweaty cunt. Behind them, the twin globes of their ass rise far behind them. However, the real stars of the show are in front of them. Their chest has been backed up with useless milk to the point of each veiny, sloshing tit dwarfing the workers. However, their enormous, stretch-marked womb and ovaries make those seem almost undersized. Despite being already filled to bursting with eggs, their nearly paper thin and purple at the navel womb constantly groans as their ovaries shift and churn more eggs to be fertilized.

The ex-person in the middle of all this? Utterly in ecstasy as the hormones translate the pain of being so utterly full into pleasure. All they can do is open their mouth to accept a worker feeding them more food as their dripping hole bulges and stretches as another egg crowns. The stretch still makes their hole burn, but they only cum even harder as the egg finally pops out with a splash of fluid.

-crashbox

Ik I should prolly make a blog for this at some point but I’m terrified of getting nuked, hope yall understand

Goddd this is so good. I get your fear of being nuked but man these are so good. At least archive em somewhere bc where else am I gonna find other ppl writing about being turned into human wombs for giant bugs

[icarusandhubris]

Thinking of getting rawed by dad one night just to feel not a cumshot but way too much liquid, and smell the acidic scent dripping around his cock as he pisses deep in me

[devoutdaughter]

dad who's frustrated they've groomed you so well that it doesn't feel like rape anymore. annoyed that this impressionable, desperate, wide-eyed idiot's just too happy to be useful, to be wanted, to be loved. after all they spent so long telling you that this is how dads show love to their kids. they've desperately held back, gone slow, and been so gentle in an effort to make this sustainable.. make sure you won't tell, make sure you won't think anything is out of the ordinary. and you don't. your dad loves you and you're drunk on the attention and affection.

dad who's decided they need to see you scared, they just can't pretend anymore. so next time their cock is down your throat they ignore your tapping to be released. one hand firmly planted on the back of your head, and the other pinching your nose shut. you've tapped hard enough, repeatedly enough, there's no way they missed it. the promise dad made when they taught you to do this, "if anything ever hurts, or feels like too much you just give me a little tap and I'll stop," which they did, every time, is ringing around in your head. every time until now. and your poor abuse addled little head starts wondering what you did wrong. it has to be your fault, right? daddy wouldn't just want to hurt you.

you've been trapped, nose to their tummy, involuntarily gagging around them for what feels like forever when you start to register they're saying something to you. through your haze you hear bits of what they're saying,"stupid fucking kid.... doesn't know it shouldn't want to be raped.... little bitch... tell me to stop-" and with that they yank you back by the hair off their cock.

you're gasping hard and spluttering, both from the assault on your throat but also from crying. tears and drool are forming a little puddle by your knees on the floor in front of you. you know they were saying mean stuff even if you didn't really understand it. you could hear it in their voice. it felt like a knife to the gut. your dad kneels down and lifts your messy face up so you can meet their eyes.

they're smiling and it makes your tummy tie up in a tight knot. "wanna go again?" they ask, smiling so big it looks more like a predator showing teeth than actual mirth. the prospect lights the fear in your chest on fire and you're stammering, "no daddy not again why did why-" but you're cut off by your jaw being pried open and your mouth being stuffed again. there is an awful feeling ripping open your chest that you don't really know how to put words to. but this time dad is above you groaning, "such a good kid. so tight when you're scared baby, make your dad feel so good. so pretty with tears down your cheeks. my angel." so you push the feeling down, and try your best to stay conscious. it's making them feel good, and that's all that matters.

[beautyandthemonsters]

Surrender to The Dragon: Part 3 (Dragon!Hybrid!Monster x Human!Fem!Reader)

PART THREE: THE AWAKENING

Summary:you wake up in a luxurious room, cleaned and dressed. Drahkan is there to confront you.

Trigger Warnings: MDNI, NSFT, dark, non-con, oral (fem), psychological manipulation, power imbalance, mention of sexual assault, captivity, forced orgasms, emotional confusion.

<----- PART 2

DRAGON MASTERLIST

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

You woke to silk.

The sensation was so foreign, so wrong after the rough stone floor and the brutal grip of hands, that for a moment you thought you were dreaming. Your fingers—free now—touched the fabric beneath you. Soft. Cool. Expensive.

Your eyes opened.

The ceiling above you was dark, but not the rough, unfinished rock of Drahkan's torture room. This was polished smooth, veins of gold running through it. Chandeliers hung from chains, only a few bulbs light up, casting a dim light.

You were in a bed. A massive bed, draped in curtains of deep red and black. The sheets beneath you were silk, the pillow beneath your head soft. And you were wearing...

You looked down. A nightgown. Pale white, almost translucent, with delicate lace at the edges. It wasn't something you owned. It wasn't something you'd ever worn. Someone had undressed you, washed you, dressed you in this while you were unconscious.

Panic clawed at your throat.

You sat up too fast, and your body screamed in protest. Between your legs, there was soreness—a reminder of what had happened. What had been done to you. You could still feel the stretch, the fullness, the way his knot had locked you together until he finally softened enough to pull out.

"Careful."

The voice came from the shadows, and you whirled toward it, your heart slamming against your ribs.

Drahkan sat in a chair across the room, his scaled form barely visible in the dim light. His eyes glowed faintly—those red-black irises that seemed to see through everything. He was watching you.

"You've been asleep for fourteen hours," he said. "I had you cleaned and dressed."

"You?" Your voice came out cracked, raw from screaming.

"Me." He stood, moving toward the bed with that same slow gait. "You're my guest now. You'll want for nothing."

"Guest?" You scrambled backward on the bed, pressing yourself against the headboard. "I'm not your guest! I'm your prisoner!"

"If that's how you want to see it." He sat on the edge of the bed, and the mattress dipped under his weight. "I prefer 'guest'.'"

"I prefer 'free','" you spat. "But none of us get what we prefer, do we?"

"You have a sharp tongue for someone in your position."

"My position?" Tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. "You mean my position as a slave? As property? As something you 'cleaned' while I was unconscious?"

"I mean your position as someone who came three times on my fingers and my cock." His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "Who begged me to fuck her faster. Who screamed when she came around my knot."

"THAT'S NOT—" You stopped, chest heaving, nails digging into the silk sheets. "That wasn't... I didn't... my body just..."

"Your body just what? Responded? Reacted? Betrayed you?" He leaned closer, and you could smell him now, smoke and spice. "That's what bodies do, little human. They respond to pleasure. Even when the mind says no."

"I hate you. I hate what you did to me. I hate that you let them watch. I hate that you—that you—"

"Fucked you? Claimed you? Came inside you?" He tilted his head, those burning eyes never leaving your face. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU!"

He moved faster than you could track.

One moment he was sitting at the edge of the bed. The next, he was over you, caging you against the headboard with his arms, his face inches from yours. The heat of him washed over you, and despite your hatred, your body remembered. Remembered the pleasure. Remembered the way he'd made you fall apart.

"You don't hate me," he said quietly. "You want to. You should. But you don't."

"How do you know what I feel?"

"Because I can smell it on you." His nose brushed against your neck, and you shivered. "Fear. Anger. And underneath it all... arousal. You're wet right now, aren't you? Just from me being close?"

"No!" But even as you denied it, you felt the truth. That familiar slickness, gathering between your legs. Your body responding to his proximity like a plant turning toward the sun.

"Liar." He pulled back, looking down at you. "But I expected that. You're young. Inexperienced. You don't understand your own body yet."

"I understand that I was raped! You raped me. In front of my abusers. While they watched and laughed."

Drahkan was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Yes. I did."

"No apology? No excuse?"

"No." He sat back slightly, giving you room to breathe. "What happened was what needed to happen. Your stepmother owed me a debt. You were offered as payment. I accepted."

"I'm not currency!"

"You are now." He reached out, and before you could flinch away, his hand cupped your cheek. The scales were warm against your skin. "But you're not just currency. You're... something else. Something I didn't expect."

"What?" You wanted to pull away, but you couldn't move. "What didn't you expect?"

"You." His thumb traced your lower lip, and you hated the way your mouth parted at the touch. "Your fire. Your fight." He leaned closer again, and you felt his breath against your lips. "The way you feel around my cock."

"Stop—"

"Tell me about yourself." The command came out of nowhere, and you blinked, confused. "Your father. Your stepmother. How did you end up in that house?"

"Why do you care?"

"I don't." He shrugged, but his eyes said something else. "Just curious. Humor me."

You should have refused. Should have pressed your lips together and turned away. But something in his gaze made you want to answer. Made you want him to understand.

"My father..." Your voice caught. "My father was a merchant. He traveled a lot. When I was sixteen, he met Gorshka. She was... beautiful, for an orc. Charming. He fell for her hard."

"And you?"

"I hated her from the start." You looked down at your hands, twisted in the sheets. "She was cruel to me when he wasn't looking. Pinching, slapping, little things that didn't leave marks. And her brother Morak... he was worse."

"How so?"

"He used to watch me. When I bathed. When I dressed." Your stomach turned at the memory. "He never touched me but he watched. And he'd make comments. About my body. About what he wanted to do to it."

Drahkan's jaw tightened. "And your father never knew?"

"He died.... Heart attack, six months after the wedding. He was older, and Gorshka... she stressed him. Made demands. Spent his money. He just... couldn't take it anymore."

"So you were left alone with them."

"Yes." You met his eyes again. "For three years. Three years of being their servant, their punching bag, their entertainment. And now..." You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Now you."

"Now me." He didn't look away. "And you hate me for it."

"Yes."

"But you hate them more."

The observation caught you off guard. "What?"

"Your stepmother and her brother. You hate them more than you hate me." It wasn't a question. "I can see it in your eyes. I'm just the instrument of your suffering. They're the cause."

"Does it matter?"

"It might." He reached for you again, and this time you did flinch, but his hand only caught the edge of your nightgown. "I'm going to prove something to you."

"Don't—"

"I'm going to prove that you don't hate me. Not really." He pulled, and the thin fabric tore like paper. "That your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is too stubborn to admit it."

"NO!"

But he was already pushing you back against the pillows, his weight settling over you, his scaled body pressing you into the mattress. You fought. Kicked, clawed, tried to bite— but he was too strong, too heavy, too much.

"Stop fighting me," he murmured against your neck. "You'll only exhaust yourself."

"I'll never stop fighting you!"

"We'll see."

His mouth found your throat, not kissing, exactly, but tasting. His tongue—longer than a human's, slightly forked—licked a path from your collarbone to your jaw. You shuddered, and he made a sound of approval.

"There," he said. "There's that response."

"It's disgust," you gasped. "It's revulsion—"

"It's pleasure." His hand closed around your breast, kneading the soft flesh, and you hated the way your nipple hardened against his palm. "Your body is singing for me, little human. I can feel it."

"You're imagining things—AHH!"

He'd pinched your nipple, just hard enough to send a jolt through you.

"Interesting," he murmured. "You like that."

"I don't—"

"Don't lie to me." He lowered his head, and his mouth closed around your other nipple, sucking hard. You cried out, your back arching off the bed, your fingers tangling in his short hair despite your intention to push him away.

"Mmmf wait.. Ahh..!"

"That's it." His tongue circled the sensitive peak, lapping at it like a cat with cream. "Let me hear you. Let me hear what I do to you."

"HATE—you—AHH—I HATE—"

"You keep saying that." He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, and you writhed beneath him. "Your mouth says hate. But your body says... what does your body say?"

"I don't—I can't—"

"Your body says more." His hand slid down your belly, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip. "Your body says please. Your body says don't stop."

"NO!"

He ignored you, his mouth trailing lower. Down your sternum, across your belly, his tongue dipping into your navel. You squirmed, trying to escape, but his hands held your hips in place.

"So beautiful," he murmured against your skin. "So soft. I could spend hours just tasting you."

"I don't want you to taste me!"

"I know." His lips brushed the top of your mound, and you shuddered. "That's what makes it so enjoyable."

"Please—"

"Please what? Please stop? Or please continue?" He looked up at you, his eyes burning in the dim light. "Be honest, little human. Even if it's just with yourself."

"I want you to let me go."

"Not possible." He pushed your legs apart, settling his shoulders between your thighs. "I'm going to eat your cunt now. And you're going to come on my tongue. And then you're going to admit that you don't hate this as much as you want to."

"I will NEVER—AHH!"

His mouth covered you, and the world dissolved.

His tongue was everywhere; licking, lapping, delving. He found your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue, and your hips bucked against his face. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them up and open, exposing you completely.

"Uugh... y-yesss..."

"Good girl," he growled against your flesh. "Let it out."

His tongue pushed inside you, not just lapping at your entrance but thrusting, fucking you with deep strokes that made your eyes roll back. You'd never felt anything like it. The length of it, the slight fork at the tip, the way he could curl it inside you and find places you didn't know existed.

"Ahh! O.. Oh!... Aghh!"

"That's it." His thumbs spread your folds wider, giving him better access. "You taste so good Sweet. Clean. Mine."

"Not—yours—AHH—not—"

"You are." His tongue found your clit again, flicking rapidly, and your whole body convulsed. "Every inch of you. This sweet little cunt belongs to me now. These soft thighs. These perfect breasts." He sucked your clit into his mouth, and you screamed. "All mine."

The orgasm built faster than before. You tried to fight it—tried to push his head away, tried to close your legs—but he held you open, held you down, held you captive.

"Please—I can't—I don't want—"

"Shh." His tongue returned to thrusting inside you, fucking you in long strokes. "Let go. Let me have it. Let me have you."

"No—no—NO—AHHH!"

You came apart on his tongue, your back arching off the bed, your hands fisting in the sheets. The waves of pleasure crashed over you, each one stronger than the last, and through it all, he kept licking, kept tasting, kept taking.

When the orgasm finally subsided, you lay limp and trembling, tears streaming down your face. You hated him. You hated what he'd done. You hated that your body had responded.

And yet...

"You're crying," he observed, crawling up your body until his face hovered over yours.

"Of course I'm crying." Your voice was barely a whisper. "You just... you made me..."

"Come on my tongue? Yes. I did." He wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "And you loved it."

"I didn't—"

"Don't." His eyes were serious now. "Don't lie to me. Not about this."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "What do you want from me?"

"I want the truth." He rolled off you, settling beside you on the bed, his body a wall of heat against your side. "I want you to admit that you feel something when I touch you. Something you've never felt before."

"Even if I did... it wouldn't change anything."

"Wouldn't it?" He pulled you against him, and you were too exhausted to fight. "Pleasure is a powerful thing, little human. It can change minds. Change hearts. Change everything."

"Mine won't."

"We'll see." His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "But not tonight. You're sore. You need rest."

"You're not going to..." You couldn't finish the sentence.

"Fuck you?" He shook his head. "No. Not tonight. Your body needs time to recover from my knot." His hand stroked your hair, and despite everything, the motion was almost soothing. "I'm not a monster, whatever you think."

"You are a monster."

"Physically, yes. But I won't hurt you more than necessary. You're too valuable for that."

"Valuable?"

"More valuable than a million gold." His voice was quiet. "I just haven't decided why yet."

PART 4 ----> soon

Not to be dramatic but reblogs fuel my writing soul need them pleaseeee

[2seedbed-2slob]

what do you think about boar/pig/pig monster cock? they have spiral dicks and fuck their mates cervix. it's actually pretty neat I don't know why more kink blogs aren't on this lol

-✨

Ooh- probably because more people don't know about those logistics, anon! But now that we know, why don't we fantasize for a moment? And also keep in mind that the pig family has the longest orgasms of all mammals, averaging at 30 minutes but up to 90.

Massive boars accosting you in the wild, their weird corkscrew cocks drilling into your cervix and only getting deeper. Boar sperm bloats hot in your womb, bubbling and bloating as your rapist keeps your face buried in the dirt long after its feral seed starts spewing excess all over the ground. It doesn't care. It's got forty minutes left to go, and all that cum is going somewhere. And it doesn't much care if where it goes is your womb, or into the dirt to attract bugs.

Bored, depraved farmhand, looking for an outlet. There's more boars than sows around, but they don't seem to put up too much of a fuss about that. The farmer doesn't worry about it, but does worry about his helper disappearing for hours at a time, returning smelling like hogs with bloated bellies. And the farmer worries even more when he catches that farmhand several months later pushing out piglets in the barn.

Big hulking orcs, more piglike than the ones you're used to. They overtake your army almost instantly, mowing people down with their massive clubs and sharp tusks. Those they don't kill they take as sex trophies, not unlike their less porcine cousins. Unlike them, though, their trophy displays are much more public- their hapless victim impaled on their cock, wrists bound with a rope wrapped behind their neck, nude for all to see where the dominator and dominated meet. At least the one you're tied to only grabs you and fucks you like a fleshlight sometimes, unlike his friends who have a habit of mindlessly bucking into their trophies 24/7, or at least until they break.

[2seedbed-2slob]

what do you think about boar/pig/pig monster cock? they have spiral dicks and fuck their mates cervix. it's actually pretty neat I don't know why more kink blogs aren't on this lol

-✨

Ooh- probably because more people don't know about those logistics, anon! But now that we know, why don't we fantasize for a moment? And also keep in mind that the pig family has the longest orgasms of all mammals, averaging at 30 minutes but up to 90.

Massive boars accosting you in the wild, their weird corkscrew cocks drilling into your cervix and only getting deeper. Boar sperm bloats hot in your womb, bubbling and bloating as your rapist keeps your face buried in the dirt long after its feral seed starts spewing excess all over the ground. It doesn't care. It's got forty minutes left to go, and all that cum is going somewhere. And it doesn't much care if where it goes is your womb, or into the dirt to attract bugs.

Bored, depraved farmhand, looking for an outlet. There's more boars than sows around, but they don't seem to put up too much of a fuss about that. The farmer doesn't worry about it, but does worry about his helper disappearing for hours at a time, returning smelling like hogs with bloated bellies. And the farmer worries even more when he catches that farmhand several months later pushing out piglets in the barn.

Big hulking orcs, more piglike than the ones you're used to. They overtake your army almost instantly, mowing people down with their massive clubs and sharp tusks. Those they don't kill they take as sex trophies, not unlike their less porcine cousins. Unlike them, though, their trophy displays are much more public- their hapless victim impaled on their cock, wrists bound with a rope wrapped behind their neck, nude for all to see where the dominator and dominated meet. At least the one you're tied to only grabs you and fucks you like a fleshlight sometimes, unlike his friends who have a habit of mindlessly bucking into their trophies 24/7, or at least until they break.

[seedbed-slob]

Of all the monster species to get pregnant with, Lesser Goblins are probably one of the worst. You’ve heard of species that are sexually mature soon after birth- Lesser Goblin babies are sexually active before birth and will actively work to impregnate their host while in utero. The host typically becomes aware when the searing pain of their fallopian tubes being penetrated with their intense instinctual breeding drives and disproportionately large dicks. For this reason many Lesser Goblins capable of giving birth are perpetually pregnant, birthing 5-10 young once every few months. Left unchecked, this will be the case for humans, anthros, or any other humanoid species the Lesser Goblin can get their hands on. This subspecies of Goblin is highly resistant to the effects of inbreeding, making incest extremely commonplace, even between Lesser Goblin children and their parents, Goblin or not.

[z0912k-deactivated20250922]

Laying in my stall, on my side, I rest my arm across my massive belly. I had been bred two weeks ago, plugged full so none of the cum would escape from me, and I was slowly becoming accustomed to the lifestyle of a breeding cow.

My breasts were larger than ever, swelling more and more each day in anticipation of the massive pregnancy that was currently forming in my cum-packed womb. The bull that had bred me had pumped me so full that I was immediately immobilized by my swollen womb, and the only time I had really moved since being filled was being transported from the breeding room to my new, larger stall. The bed was much larger, so I was comfortable and happy as I lay, spending each day quietly resting as I let the cum do its work.

The next nine months would be spent incubating the massive litter of calves that was sure to come from my very thorough breeding. I rubbed my belly, feeling my stomach sway slightly, and I massaged my engorged breasts. I felt completely full of thick, heavy, warm cum… The pregnancy would end up swelling me even larger than I was now: soon, the whole bed would be taken up by my belly, and I would officially become a proper baby factory. I looked forward to getting a little larger each day, swelling more and more with my offspring.

[wereknightpreg]

A soon-to-be-king at his coronation, struggling to kneel down smoothly because of the belly he's hiding. It's only been a few months, but he's growing quicker than anticipated. That might have something to do with the creature that flew through his open window, bent the royal over his own bed, and bred him until sunrise. Its covetous claws never left his belly. He can't think about that now. Can't let the weight distract him from reciting the oath, or humbly bowing his head to receive the crown. Precious gems and gold touch his hair, and at the exact same second, something in his belly kicks. He rises on shaking legs, turning slowly to face the hundreds of people watching him, silently praying that no one noticed. That he only feels a little bigger and heavier. As he opens his mouth to launch into a much-rehearsed speech, another kick makes him gasp loudly instead. Too scared to look down, he resolutely focuses his gaze on the assembled crowd. Unable to look away, he feels his belly grow tighter again, restless writhing inside growing stronger, hears the first few stitches on his robes give out, and watches in speechless terror as every eye in the room focuses on his middle. With one last, violent movement, threads snap, and the whole kingdom sees the thing inside move around through his thin shift. His knees give out and he falls backwards, into the arms of the officiant, whose grip on his thrashing belly feels oddly familiar.

[breedingboy-jay-deactivated2025]

Dick so big from a monster that the head already opens up and penetrates your cervix before they're even balls deep in you. When they knot you? They're so deep in you that the entire head of their cock is lodged directly into your womb (and maybe a centimeter or two below it too). Their huge, full balls clench and throb violently against you as their cock shoots thick, virile cum directly into it, pulsating so much that you swear you can feel their dick kicking inside you when you put your hand on your lower abdomen.

They cum, thrusting as much as they can into your cunt with the knot tying you together, cumming until your insides are full and your belly is bloated.

And you're stuck like that, their cock lodged deep inside you and stretching your cervix, the knot keeping whatever cum that escapes your womb inside your pussy. Stuck with your insides stretched and sore and full of thick cum until the knot dies down.

But who knows how long it'll take for the knot to deflate? By then, they might manage to stuff a couple more loads in you by grinding into you, thrusting as much as they can as quickly and rapidly as they can until the balls that are forming bruises on your skin are truly empty.

[cnc-pet]

when the monster is big enough to hold you with one hand wrapped around your body and literally just uses your body like a fleshlight and maybe it really gets off on being able to feel your body bulge against its hand every time it impales you on its impossibly thick cock

And yeah, maybe a person's body would be at the very least severely injured by having something rearrange their insides in such a manner, but if you're not a person and are, in fact, a sex toy, that shouldn't be a problem, should it?

[pezd1spenser]

I think I was made for living in dad's bed and being his cute little pet girlfriend! I do whatever he tells me to not cause I gotta but cause I wanna, and we do everything together! we eat, we talk, we play games together, we even cook for each other! when he comes home, sometimes we shower together, but we always always spend time together once he gets settled because I miss him lots n lots when he's gone!

and then, when it's late, before bed, daddy n me hang out in bed together and he gives me lots of adult kisses. I love kiss time with daddy! I really love when daddy's kisses trail down my neck and press harder into my skin, and dad's breathing gets all shaky and weird. I'm not scared at all cause Daddy told me that just means he really really loves me lots!! he loves me so much that sometimes, dad says he can't hold back how much he loves me and he has to show me. that's always the most fun even if it is a little confusing and overwhelming at times

too bad I always wake up the next morning in his bed, still tired, a little sore, leaking something down there, and missing my dad. I was sleeping so good, and he couldn't bear to wake his kiddo up when I was sleeping so good.

I could live in Dad's bed forever though. Its warm and soft and where I belong, waiting for him to come back.

[domdaddyboytoy]

Hey, bud. You had a nightmare? Come here, honey. Your mom and I are just cuddling, don’t mind us. Cuddling is nicer when you aren’t wearing clothes, wanna see? There you go, sweet boy. You fit so well between us. We love you so much, honey. Can you nurse on your momma like you did when you were littler? There you go. Don’t worry, daddy’s just cuddling with you. I like to put my daddy part between your legs, isn’t that nice? Fuck, you’re so good. We love you so much. Can you let daddy and mommy show you how much we love you? We can make you feel so good…

[angelicprism]

My mate played with me today<3