Hi! My name is Chandra, Mads, Cherri, what the fuck ever I got a lot of names okay
I’m a 21+ girl? boy? thing? lesbian???? Idfk. If you’re hot you’re hot.
This is a kink account. No minors.
I’m a sadomasochistic with a bunch of shit wrong with me, but we move. I’m into knives, impact play, intox, cnc, and a lot, lot more.
I am not into force feeding, cucking, and vomit, but that’s subject to change. If you send me stuff like this tho I’m just gonna block you.
This blog is gonna focus on a lot of heavy kink stuff, and like I said earlier, there’s not a lot of stuff off limits. I’m really bad at tagging stuff so, keep that in mind if you’re gonna follow.
One of my other big kinks is corruption, and I seem to get worse with each passing week.
I’m a switch with a heavy bottom preference. Despite being a subby pathetic mess most of the time, sometimes I have to scratch an itch of doing the hurting myself.
I’ll be trying out having asks on but I might turn em off if I don’t like them. Feel free to DM me too
If you wanna see me when im not talking about the eroticism of a gun in my mouth, check out @wowzoerz-blog
Hope you enjoy the show <3
Behold my tags below
#pup posts: just my original posts
#pup writes: when I’m writing some stuff, usually smut
#pup shows: photos of myself and my two wives in our sexual exploits
#pup smokes: I’m just high as fuck lmao
#oh gods 😵💫: marking my faves :3
And i forget to use these often, so, suck my dick if you get mad about it :3
The other girl in the basement has more chain, and never talks to you. You tried, of course, when you first woke up shackled to the wall. Screamed at her until you went hoarse. You didn't have enough leash to get anywhere near her, or do anything besides lay down. She went about her day, cycling between calisthenics and reading a stack of books next to her nest of cushions. She was probably in her late thirties, and must have been a fitness nut before this.
The captor, because she never gave you any other name, never interacts with her in front of you. She's younger, and talks absentmindedly, but rarely seems to expect or want an answer.
Once every day, she comes downstairs with cattle prod and hood in hand, and takes you from the claustrophobic basement up the stairs, right turn, five paces, into another windowless room. It has only a treadmill and a chair. You refused, at first, and learned exactly how badly a cattle prod hurt. You swore to never eat meat again after your escape.
The captor demands nothing else of you, and answers no questions. She takes the other girl at different times, for far longer, and she returns with deep bruises, sometimes bloodied. You try to be grateful.
Each day you run, as fast as you can, for however long she makes you. The pace ticks up, day over day, and your heart rate settles into a comfortable spot. What had once left you gasping and pleading to stop, spurred on only by violent threats, is now an easy jog.
You couldn't say how long it had been, the day the routine changed. The captor took the other girl, and then came down again for you. Up the stairs, left turn, ten paces, down two short steps and… a breeze?
The hood comes off, and you're outside. It is late afternoon, and you furiously blink away tears. Your prison sits in a small clearing, a cabin with woods sprawling on every side of it. The air, fresh after so long, is thick with pine and so delightfully green.
The other girl is there too - without restraints. Standing, tight as a whip, staring into the woods.
The captor gestures to the treeline.
"Run. You get a five minute head start."
The words take a moment to register. You're weightless, giddy. You have no bearing, but you loved the woods as a child, and the captor does not seem dressed for the chase at all, in a long dressing gown and slippers. You bolt into the trees, the taste of freedom on your lips.
At a hundred yards, you realize the other girl did not start running with you. She had not been staring at the trees. She was waiting, impatiently. The realization sinks like a stone in your stomach, but you press on. Brush whips at your legs, leaving stinging cuts.
You hear her start. The first sound you've ever heard her make, an awful, baying howling. And then deathly silence, in comparison to your clumsy fleeing.
That's the problem with an exotic pet, you know. It needs live prey.
what if we were in the middle of making out but i told you to keep still? with my hand on your jaw, keeping you in place. lips hovering above yours. keep yours parted just so, and don't move. don't kiss me back while i press my lips to yours, slowly kissing your upper lip before moving to the corner of your mouth, then kissing the other corner. hovering over you again, so close you can feel my breath but you can't do anything about it. kissing you again. and again. and again. slow, deep, loud, wet. eventually licking your upper lip, gently, relishing the way you twitch against my touch. tracing your lower lip now with the tip of my tongue. kissing you again. licking your lip again. over and over, just as slow as when i started teasing you. finally using my hold on your jaw to get your mouth open a little wider, just enough to snake my tongue between your lips and lap at yours. moaning into your mouth. kissing you hungrily, so so messy and needy. taking your face in both of my hands and pulling away to look at you. smiling at how heavily you're breathing after being denied something as simple as kissing me back while i played with your mouth.
Imagine, if you will. You are just a simple farm girl in a village down in the valley, far from turmoil of any kind. One day, a beliefful buff, elven knight with long blond hair, she rides a similarly muscular centaur with slick chestnut fur.
They both seem like nice ladies, and soon a rumour spreads alleging the knight is hung. That evening, you spot the knight in a tavern. Her armour removed and laid next to her stool. A sleeveless shirt leaving her biceps exposed for all to see. You're also nice, she is drinking the cheap ale, and your village has terrible ale. You go tell her, about the wonderful mead your village prides it's of on mead, offer to and her a round. She is intrigued and flattered by the proposal, and soon you sit tougher, each with a glass of honey that is as buzzy as it is sweet. She tells you stories of combat and shares the pains of dealing with high-born nobles out of touch with reality.
By the time the bottom of the glass start peaking from underneath, you drink your gathered enough courage to ask about the rumour. She offers to show you, and you eagerly follow her to a quiet spot behind the tavern. There she buttons her pants and shows you a cock long like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. You watch it speechless, she is more hung when you imagined. You can't even stop yourself from drooling. She moves her hips a little, letting it swing from side to side and watching your eyes follow. "You had a look, what don't you have a taste as well~." She offers, quite amazed by your reaction. You simply nod, the ground is a bit muddy, so rather than kneeling down, you lean forward and grab her hips for support. You start up kissing her near the base of that magnificent glock. Then as it slowly rises, you move up the shaft closer and closer to the tip. When you reach the tip, you give it as kiss and drink up the pre-cum gathered there. The knight pets your head and complements your work. You open your mouth and start swallowing her cock properly. It is not easy taking something so girthy down your throat, but with a nice coating of saliva and considerable effort it goes down.
You nearly back you, kissing the base of her glock, now with its length inside you. Then suddenly you hear someone yelling. It's that centaur lady. "What do you think you're doing with my girlfriend!?". You want to pull out, to defend yourself, but the knight grabs your head and keeps you in place. With that glock of her down your throat, it's impossible to say anything, so you just stand there and listen as she answers for you. "A damn good job, that's what she is doing." "Yeah?" The centaur approaches. You feel her powerful front legs rub against your thighs, holding your ass in place. Now you can only stand there as she stares down the knight. "If she is so good, why don't I have a try her myself~" "Oh, go ahead~". The centaur steps forward, putting her front legs over your hips and feel her hard erect glock pressing on your pants. The knight reaches down and pull down your pants and panties, exposing your whole for her. Then contour move forward. Her stomach gliding along the back, and her dock sliding up inside. Your tight little whole quiver under her right girth, but she purchases it in with great strength.
With both of them deeply inside you, your body trapped under the mountain of muscles that is the centaur and presses between their couches, you cannot do anything but moan into that elven clock and their fuck you from both sides. I take them a while to finish inside you, but it feels like just a few blissful moments. You think after filling you up with cum, they would realise you, but no. They keep talking about their day and your tiny little village. You try to wiggle yourself free. Perhaps slide one of their limpien cocks out of you. However, as you wiggle and move around. They get exited and start fucking you again. At hey do, they keep talking as if they were not using their hips and cocks to violate your insides.
In the end, you don't know how many times they came inside you, only to go for another round moments later. However, you wake up in the public bath, embraced by the knight. Your head laid on her sizable chest and her hand cleaning the mud off your face. And as you lay there, you can't help to hope they stay in your village for a while.
"Nothing on this website is illegal. Nothing on this website is unethical. Despite the fact that these videos and photos were created enthusiastically and consensually, I can't process transactions or make money from any media on this website using any standard online payment processing. The only way I can get other people's eyes on my work is to give it away for free. That's the state of the internet and credit card companies right now.
I take my art seriously. I take my collaborators seriously. We deserve a platform for our work. This is an imperfect attempt at filling that gap. It's better than nothing." x
