Hello, my name is Steve, and welcome to my blog. It's been a while since I last redid my pined post, so I thought I'd do it again.
Please fuck off if you are:
A) under 18 years of age.
B) a pedo.
Please fuck off and get therapy if you are:
A) a terf.
B) Homophobic.
C) unable to tell that this blog is fantastic and not reality.
If you brake any of these roles, I suspect you have, or are a bot I will ban you.
This blog contains adult content that might not be suitable for everyone even over the age of 18. If you are not in the right head space for nonconsent, sexual violence, extream patrearky, slavery, and any number of other extreme fetish related topics, please turn away now.
I do, however, draw the line with and will never post about snuff, beaseality, or insest.
A lot of my stuff is reblogs with the occasional caption from me normally set in my fiction "utopia" of the Freeuse Republic. I also occasionally post some original short stories often also in the Republic.
None of the things in this blog are real. You should never treat anyone in really life like this outside of the bedroom and after careful planning and express consent.
I am dyslexic so please excuse any spelling errors and enjoying my blog.
Any questions my DMs and asks are always open.
(P.s. I take tips in the form of nudes any time 😋.)
The program had come such a long way since it's initial inception; every year then female slavery law took hundreds, if not thousands, of new victims, whether they were turning freshly 18 and automatically be put on sale, or simply couldn't afford the freedom fees anymore and could expect a visit from the slavery enforcement squad any day now. Rather than await the lottery of the auction block however, and risk the fate of ending up in some perverts homemade dungeon, this service allowed girls to market themselves to wealthy, handsome men who might be interested in a new fucktoy.
For a premium a girl could book a private photoshoot and then arrange to meet potential 'suitors' to test the merchandise, maybe even have a little influence over who eventually bought her. The standard package was a little less glamorous though, and saw girls lined up ready to show off what good little whores they could be to a live audience. Even from the waiting area they could hear the anguished cries of pain and pleasure coming from the display area as the day's activities got underway.
Before the day ended each one would taste at least a dozens of cocks, receive at least a few strokes from a cane to show off their sexy squeals, and be forced to orgasm several times in front of a baying audience. Once their turn was done they'd be led offstage by a chain leash and into a dressing room so they could go home and wait to hear if their suffering had been worthwhile.
The lucky ones would receive a pre-order notification within a few days, the rest... a cold notice of when, where, and how to present themselves for auction if they wanted to avoid the indignity of being hogtied and loaded into a van when their enslavement day finally arrived.
Red has been my eager hypnotic plaything for quite some time. Casual hypnosis led to erotic sessions, which then led to more intense explorations of what I could program her to think and do. I had one goal in mind and with the amount of sexual pleasure my sessions supplied her, she didn't put up any sort of resistance when I began to reprogram her mind.
Slowly enthralling her to my will while erasing her own...
Eventually, through our multiple delectable encounters, she told me all about this friend of hers that was struggling with anxiety and stress shopping. I would have informed her to tell her friend to seek professional help, but before I could, I happened to see pictures of her and decided against it.
Red eventually set up a casual meeting with her friend Blue and after a drink so we could all get comfortable with one another, Red told her all about how I helped her deal with her own anxiety issues. As it happens, Blue had always been a little intrigued when it came to hypnosis so it wasn't difficult to convince her to try and let me hypnotize her. As knowledgeable as I am about hypnosis, I'm no therapist so I had 2 main goals for her first session.
First, help with her anxiety by helping her relax. And second, making sure she thoroughly enjoyed her trance so she would be inclined to come back for more.
Thankfully for me, I'm quite the expert on making my subjects feel extra good and barely a few days later, she contacted me to schedule another session. And then another... And another...
Each time I reached deeper into her subconscious, implanting my influence and authority, as well as fun triggers I could use to play with her without her noticing. Finally, her subconscious reached a point where it became incredibly receptive to new ideas, which meant that it was time for her to experience a slightly more intense style of hypnosis session.
I had Red invite her over for an afternoon of drinks, but that was just the excuse. Unknown to Red, I slipped in a trance trigger into our conversation while she was getting us drinks. When she came back, she saw Blue kneeling in front of me and asked me what was happening. There was no accusation or worry in her voice, just simple curiosity.
I told her I had something fun planned and that was all it took for her to join her on her knees. No trigger or trance required. She knelt and listened as I explained that Blue was due for the same VR hypnosis experience I once put her through. That made her smile, then frown as she wondered what we would do while she enjoyed her time with the binaural beats and the spiral.
It was my turn to smile as I stepped forward, placing my hand on her head as I told her not to worry about it. Being the docile obedient hypno toy she was, she didn't and simply smiled as she waited to see what I would do next. I spoke her trance trigger and guided her a little deeper before I went to grab my VR set.
I guided Blue deeper into trance while I placed the set over her eyes. I turned on the spiral and initially guided her and how to properly focus on the spinning colors in front of her so it would continue to help her seeking deeper and deeper into trance. Once that was done, I turned on the audio that would continue to instruct her to go deeper, before eventually going to work on reshaping her subconcious.
Having already reshaped Red's mind quite thoroughly, I led her away to my bedroom so I could fully enjoy playing with her without worrying about disrupting Blue's experience.
By the time I had fully sampled all I wished to do with Red and took a little cuddle nap to regain my strength, the afternoon had turned into early evening. Blue had spent the last few hours in the depths of the spiral and by the look of her, I knew she had really enjoyed her time even though she had knelt the whole time.
I turned off the audio and checked her progress by asking her a series of control questions. The answers to which would tell me how much of the programing she had internalized and accepted. I was a little disappointed to note that she still had quite a long way to go before she was ready to fully submit to me, but still, her progress was more than acceptable and I knew she would be eager to come back for more.
She was just one of those subjects that require more work than others.
I just wanted to say a big thank-you to everyone who has followed me recently, particularly the vanilla blogs. It is so hot seeing the likes and then seeing a blog that looks so innocent.
Sidney's pussy clamped around her dildo as she gave herself another unsatisfying orgasm. Throwing the toy aside, she decided that her 6-month dry spell would end tomorrow. Sidney was beautiful, but with the amount she worked, she never seemed to have time to meet anyone, and she was starting to get desperate. The toys were good, but not a substitute for the real thing. But tomorrow she had a night to herself, and she was going to the dark rooms.
The cab dropped Sidney outside an unmarked building with blacked-out windows. The neon sign above the door simply read "PRIVATE" in pulsing violet letters. She hesitated, fingers tightening around the small velvet pouch containing her phone, ID, and nothing else. The rules were explicit. No names. No light. No safewords.
Inside, a bored-looking attendant greeted her, asking if Sidney had been here before. Sidney shook her head. The attendant, smiling explained, "You've arrived just in time, we were about to cut off and start tonight's fun. I'll show you through to the changing room in a minute. There are 5 other women tonight. Once in the locker room, we strip naked, and I will guide you into the back. You will have a couple of minutes to spread out and get used to the dark. After a couple of minutes, my college will release the men into the dark, and the fun begins."
The changing room smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender, an odd combination that made Sidney’s pulse quicken. The attendant handed her a small locker key, its metal cool against her palm. "Everything off," the woman said, her tone casual, as if she’d said it a thousand times before. Sidney’s fingers trembled slightly as she unbuttoned her blouse, the fabric sliding off her shoulders like a sigh. The other women were already undressing some with practised ease, others with the same hesitant energy Sidney felt curling in her stomach. One, a redhead with sharp collarbones, caught her eye and smirked. "First time?" she murmured. Sidney nodded, and the woman laughed softly. "You’ll love it. Like being a ghost. No one knows who you are. No one cares."
Naked now, Sidney followed the attendant down a narrow hallway, the air growing cooler with each step. The door at the end was unmarked, black as pitch. "Once you’re inside, spread out," the attendant reminded her. "Find a wall, a corner, whatever feels right. They’ll come in soon." Sidney’s breath hitched as the door opened, revealing nothing but darkness so complete it felt like stepping into a void. She hesitated for only a second before crossing the threshold. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her in.
The dark was heavier than she’d imagined. Thick. Almost tactile. Sidney stretched out her hands, fingers brushing against nothing. She took slow, shuffling steps forward, her bare feet silent on what felt like padded flooring. Somewhere to her left, she heard a soft gasp, one of the other women, maybe, or just the building settling. Her skin prickled. Every sound was magnified. Every breath felt like a broadcast. She pressed her back against what she hoped was a wall, the cool surface grounding her. The rules played in her head like a mantra: “No names. No light. No safewords.”
A few moments later, a buzzer sounded, a door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps on the padded floor filled the room. The attendant called out in the darkness, "Ladies, this is what we are here for. Now, gentlemen cum and rape some sluts! I'm right here!"
The first touch came from nowhere, rough fingers sliding up the back of her thigh, making her gasp. Sidney’s body tensed, but before she could react, a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her startled noise. Warm breath hit her ear as a deep voice growled, "Don’t fight." She didn’t. The command sent a shiver down her spine, her thighs pressing together instinctively, but the man between them didn’t let her close them. His grip was firm, unyielding, and when he pushed her forward against the wall, she went without resistance. The cold surface kissed her nipples as his palm slid between her legs, fingers parting her folds with blunt efficiency. She was already wet. He chuckled low in his throat before driving into her with a single thrust.
The stretch burned just enough to make her bite her lip, but the friction was electric. Sidney arched into it, her hands scrabbling against the wall as he set a punishing rhythm. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t know if he was tall or broad or young or old, and the anonymity made it hotter. His hips snapped against hers, the slap of skin echoing in the dark, punctuated by her soft whimpers. When his hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back, the sharp pain tipped her over the edge. Her orgasm crashed through her like a wave, wringing a broken moan from her throat. He didn’t slow. Didn’t stop. Just fucked her through it until she was limp against the wall, her legs shaking.
Then he was gone. Vanished into the blackness as suddenly as he’d appeared. Sidney slumped forward, panting, her skin slick with sweat. She barely had time to catch her breath before new hands found her, this time turning her around, lifting her effortlessly onto what felt like a padded bench. Strong thighs pressed between hers, and the hot, thick head of a cock nudged at her entrance. "Open," a different voice ordered, and she did, spreading her legs wider. He sank into her with a groan, his grip bruising on her hips as he pulled her down onto him. This one was thicker, stretching her deliciously, and when he leaned in to suck a nipple into his mouth, Sidney’s back bowed off the bench.
The second orgasm hit her harder, her toes curling as pleasure sparked up her spine. The man above her grunted, his pace turning erratic, and then he was coming inside her, his release hot and sudden. He didn’t linger either, just pulled out with a wet sound and disappeared. Sidney lay there, boneless, her pulse thundering in her ears. The air smelled like sex and sweat, and somewhere in the dark, she heard another woman gasping, the wet slap of skin on skin.
The third time, she didn’t even realise someone was there until a tongue licked up the inside of her thigh. Sidney jerked, but the mouth between her legs held her firm, lips sealing over her clit with ruthless precision. She cried out, her hips bucking, but the hands on her waist pinned her down. The tongue flicked faster, teasing, until she was writhing, her fingers twisted in what felt like short hair. When teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, she came with a sob, her thighs clamping around the stranger’s head.
She heard someone crawling towards her in the dark, drawn by the sounds of her pleasure. To her shock, long hair brushed her face, followed by soft lips meeting hers. Her nipple pinched between long, nailed fingers. As strangers tung darted in and out of her mouth as they made out the other stranger still devouring her pussy. When the strange woman's body began to shift in the unmistakable rhythm of someone being fucked hard. Moments later, on the edge of another orgasm, the mouth lifted from her clit to be replaced by the unmistakable presence of a man above her, the underside of his cock slowly rubbing up and down her pussy lips as his mouth moved from her nipple to the strange woman's mouth. Then, with a single slow stroke, she entered her completely, stretching her newly stretched walls. Sidney threw her head back, letting out a moan as her body arched against him. As he began to thrust in and out slowly, she felt the strange woman move Sidney's hand to her own breast, and Sidney pinched and rolled her nipple as she was fucked slowly.
The man groaned as she tightened around him, "Fuck your tight," he growled. His hips snapped forward, driving deeper with each thrust. Sidney’s breath came in ragged gasps, her fingers digging into the stranger’s breast as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. The woman moaned into her ear, her own hips rocking against whatever or whoever was behind her. Sidney couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the cock filling her, the hand now sliding between her legs to circle her clit in rough, urgent strokes.
Her third orgasm hit like a freight train, her back arching off the padded surface as she cried out, the sound swallowed by the woman’s mouth. The man fucked her through it, his rhythm unrelenting. He clearly finished with the unknown woman; she began to move. Standing up, she positioned herself on Sidney's face, her dripping folds resting on Sidney's mouth as Sidney's nose neceled against her ass hole. Sidney felt the man raise himself up and heard the two intimate strangers make out. Sidney instinctively opened his mouth, savouring the taste of the woman's aerosol and strangers' cum. Sidney had never eaten a pussy before, but she now devoured the one pressing against her face like it was her last meal.
Somewhere in the dark, a woman screamed not in pain, but in pleasure, the sound raw and unfiltered. Sidney barely registered it, her world narrowed to the cock pistoning into her and the heat of the woman grinding against her mouth. The woman’s fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place as she rode her face with desperate urgency. The man above her groaned, his thrusts turning erratic, and then he was coming, his release spilling into her with a low, guttural sound. He pulled out with a wet pop, leaving her empty and dripping.
The woman on her face shuddered, her thighs clamping around Sidney’s head as she came, her slick coating Sidney’s chin. Then she, too, was gone, vanishing into the darkness as abruptly as she’d appeared. Sidney lay there, dazed, her body humming with oversensitivity. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoing from every direction.
After a few moments, Sidney rolled off the bench and began to crawl towards what she thought was the middle of the room. It wasn't long before her outstretched hands found a strong, hairy leg. Animalistically, she pushed forward, mouth open when she found it, a cock semmy hard, the taste of pussy still lingering on it. It wasn't the biggest she had had that night, but that didn't matter at this point, all she wanted, all she needed was cock. She tasted delicious precum as the cock began to harden in her mouth.
Sidney's fingers slid through the slick mess between her thighs, her own cum mingling with the strangers' releases that had been pumped into her all night. The taste of the cock in her mouth, musky, salty, faintly sweet with another woman's arousal, made her moan around the thickening shaft as she sucked greedily. Her fingers dipped inside herself, curling to coax out another thick drip of come, which she smeared across her swollen clit in slow, filthy circles. The man above her groaned, his hands tightening in her hair as her tongue flicked along his frenulum, her lips stretched wide around him.
She could feel him growing harder, his hips giving small, involuntary thrusts against her face. Sidney relaxed her throat, taking him deeper, her nose pressing into coarse curls as she swallowed around the head. The sounds she made were obscene, wet, gagging, desperate, but she didn’t care. Her fingers worked faster now, plunging in and out of her slippery cunt, her palm grinding against her clit with each thrust. The cock in her mouth twitched, precum spilling over her tongue, and she hollowed her cheeks, sucking harder.
A hand suddenly fisted in her hair, yanking her head back just enough that the man could look down at her, not that she could see him in the pitch black. "Such a good little whore," he rasped, his voice rough with arousal. "You like tasting other cunts on me? Like knowing how many other cunts I’ve been in tonight?" Sidney whimpered, her fingers stilling inside herself as the words sent a fresh wave of heat through her. She nodded eagerly, her tongue darting out to lick along his shaft in a silent plea.
He didn’t make her wait. With a grunt, he shoved her head back down onto his cock, thrusting shallowly into her mouth while her fingers resumed their frantic rhythm. Her legs were spread wide, knees digging into the padded floor as she fucked herself on her own hand, her thumb circling her clit in tight, rapid strokes. The man’s grip tightened, his thrusts turning erratic, and then he was coming in hot, salty bursts flooding her throat. Sidney swallowed desperately, her fingers curling inside herself as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm.
But before she could tip over, the man pulled out with a wet pop, leaving her gasping and empty. She barely had time to catch her breath before she was hit by thick droplets of cum. Hot and thick across here face.
The cum dripped down Sidney’s cheek like warm wax, thick and glistening in the oppressive darkness. She licked her lips instinctively, tasting salt and musk, her tongue catching the last stray drops as they slid toward her chin. Her body trembled not from cold, but from the sheer overstimulation of hours spent being used, filled, and passed between anonymous hands. The room around her pulsed with the sounds of heavy breathing, muffled moans, and the slick slap of skin on skin. Somewhere to her right, a woman sobbed not in pain, but in the shuddering aftershocks of a brutal orgasm.
Sidney rolled onto her back, her limbs loose and heavy, her thighs still spread wide as if her body had forgotten how to close. The padded floor beneath her was damp with sweat and other fluids, the scent of sex so thick it clung to her skin like a second layer. She dragged a hand down her torso, fingers skating over her cum streaked body.
The buzzer cut through the humid air like a knife, three sharp bursts, followed by the attendant's voice slicing through the darkness. "Ladies, follow my voice to the centre. Now." Sidney's muscles protested as she pushed herself onto all fours, her body slick with sweat and strangers' fluids. Around her, shuffling footsteps and breathless giggles signalled the other women moving toward the sound.
She crawled blindly, her knees sinking into the padded floor, following the attendant’s voice like a beacon. The darkness pulsed around her, alive with the sounds of heavy breathing and the occasional shuddering gasp from the other women. Sidney’s fingers brushed against bare skin, a thigh, a hip, the curve of a waist as she collided with the growing pile of bodies in the centre. Someone’s leg hooked over hers, another woman’s back pressed flush against her chest, their sweat-slick skin sticking together in the humid air.
The attendant’s voice cut through the panting silence. "Gentlemen, circle up." The command sent a shiver down Sidney’s spine. She could feel the shift in the room the weight of footsteps moving around them, the heat of bodies closing in. The women tangled together, limbs entwined, their collective breathing ragged and uneven. Sidney tilted her head back, her lips parted, as the first thick droplet landed on her collarbone. Warm. Salty. She licked her lips instinctively.
The first splash hit her sternum, warm and viscous, sliding down between her breasts in a slow, glistening trail. Sidney gasped as another spurt landed on her parted lips, the taste flooding her tongue salty, musky, unmistakably male. Around her, the other women moaned softly as the men circled them, their releases falling in erratic patterns across tangled limbs and flushed skin. A thick rope of cum striped across Sidney's thigh, another painting her stomach in sticky streaks. The air grew thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of heavy breathing punctuated by the occasional groan of satisfaction from the faceless men above them.
Someone’s fingers brushed through the mess on Sidney’s ribs, smearing it lazily over her skin before a palm cupped her breast, squeezing just hard enough to make her arch into the touch. Another man’s cum landed on her collarbone, dripping into the hollow of her throat like liquid gold in the dark. She turned her face toward the sensation, lips parting instinctively, catching the next hot spurt directly on her tongue. The women around her shifted, their bodies pressing closer, skin sliding against skin in a slick, cum-smeared tangle. A sigh escaped Sidney’s lips as someone’s thigh nudged between hers, the pressure against her oversensitive clit sending a jolt of pleasure through her spent body.
The last few drops fell like afterthoughts, a warm splatter across her hip, another dotting her inner thigh. A door opened in the dark with a faint light shining through. The men’s footsteps receded, their presence fading into the darkness as abruptly as they’d arrived. Sidney lay still, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body humming with the echoes of pleasure and the sticky evidence of their use. The woman pressed against her back exhaled shakily, her fingers trailing through the mess on Sidney’s waist before lifting to her own mouth with a soft, sucking sound. Sidney mirrored the motion, swiping two fingers through the cum pooled in the dip of her navel and bringing them to her lips, savouring the taste as it melted on her tongue.
The attendant’s voice cut through the heavy silence. From the middle of the pile, "Ladies, remain where you are. The lights will come on soon once all the men are gone, and we can all hit the shower." And with that, the lights slowly rose, and the woman could see each other for the 1st time in 2 hours.
The light bloomed like a slow sunrise, revealing the tangled mess of limbs and glistening skin. Sidney blinked against the sudden brightness, her vision swimming before sharpening on the woman pressed against her, a brunette with smudged lipstick and cum streaked through her hair like some obscene highlight. They stared at each other for a beat before the brunette grinned, licking a stray drop from her bottom lip with deliberate slowness. Sidney mirrored the smile without thinking, her own tongue darting out to catch the remnants of salt on her chin.
Around them, the other women were in various states of disarray. The redhead from earlier, the one with sharp collarbones, was sprawled on her back, one knee hooked over the shoulder of a blonde whose face was painted with thick, pearlescent streaks. The blonde’s fingers were still buried between the redhead’s thighs, moving lazily as they shared a breathless laugh. A curvy Latina sat cross-legged, using two fingers to scoop a puddle of cum from her cleavage and pop them into her mouth with a hum of appreciation. Her dark eyes met Sidney’s, and she winked before offering her fingers to the petite Asian woman beside her, who leaned in to lick them clean with a pleased sigh. And the attendant scooped a few drops of cum leaking from her pussy with 2 thingers into her mouth.
The air smelled like sex and sweat and something faintly metallic, the scent of overused bodies and spilt pleasure. Sidney’s own skin was a canvas of debauchery: handprints smeared across her hips, bite marks blooming along her inner thighs, her stomach and breasts glazed with overlapping layers of sticky release. She shifted, feeling the slick slide of fluid between her thighs, the telltale ache of being stretched too many times in too few hours. A drop of cum trailed down her inner thigh, and the brunette beside her caught it with a fingertip, swirling it absentmindedly over Sidney’s knee.
The attendant was the 1st to her feet, "ok. Follow me, and I'll lead you back to the locker room, where you can shower, or if, like me, you're feeling particularly sluty you can get dressed and do the walk of shame covered in cum. It is amazing, you feel like such a slut!"
The brunette beside Sidney stretched like a cat, her muscles rippling under her cum-streaked skin. "Shower?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Sidney. Sidney hesitated, her fingers brushing over the sticky mess cooling on her stomach—then shook her head. The brunette grinned and stood, offering a hand. Sidney took it, l
"You're sure this is the incantation?" Mara hissed, her fingers tracing the edge of the ancient grimoire. The pages smelled of burnt sage and something darker, metallic, like old blood.
Elara rolled her eyes, nudging the last black candle into place with her bare hip. "Would I lie about summoning an interplanar incubus? Please. I’ve been waiting for this since the lunar convergence." She licked her thumb and flipped another page, the parchment crackling like dry leaves.
The third witch, Veyla, stretched her arms overhead, the dim candlelight catching the sweat already glistening between her breasts. "Less arguing, more undressing. We agreed: no barriers, no reservations." Her voice dropped lower, throaty with anticipation. "Every hole offered."
Mara smirked, sliding the grimoire onto the stone altar with a decisive thud. The symbols carved into its surface pulsed faintly, reacting to the proximity of their bare skin. "Then let’s stop wasting time." She stepped into the centre of the chalked circle, the intricate sigils flaring a deep violet under her toes.
The moment the last syllable of the incantation left Elara’s lips, the air in the chamber thickened, pressing against their skin like a lover’s breath. The candles guttered violently, their flames stretching unnaturally toward the ceiling before snuffing out in unison. Darkness swallowed the room for one heartbeat, two then the sigils on the floor ignited in a searing helix of violet and black, spiralling inward until the stone itself seemed to ripple like water.
Veyla gasped as the first tentacle broke the surface, slick with otherworldly fluid, its surface glistening with iridescent ridges that pulsed with a rhythm like a heartbeat. It coiled around her thigh before she could react, the touch scalding and freezing at once, sending a shudder through her that had nothing to do with fear. “Oh fuck” The words dissolved into a moan as two more tendrils found her, one looping around her waist while the other slid up her spine, the tip teasing the nape of her neck before plunging into her mouth with sudden, delicious force.
Mara didn’t fare any better. A thick, tapered appendage wrapped around both her wrists, yanking them above her head as another circled her ankles, spreading her legs wide. She arched off the ground as a third pressed against her pussy, the tip flaring open to reveal a ridged, muscular orifice that latched onto her clit with obscene precision. The suction alone nearly made her come, but then it pushed, stretching her entrance with relentless pressure until her body yielded, the invasion so deep she felt it in her throat.
Elara, ever the instigator, laughed breathlessly as a cluster of thinner tendrils engulfed her, their movements almost playful, one twisting around a nipple, another teasing her asshole with slow, maddening circles. “Finally,” she managed before one slid into her mouth, her jaw forced wide as it pumped in time with the thrusts of the thicker tendril spearing her cunt. The sensation was unbearable no, perfect each ridge dragging against her inner walls with just enough friction to make her scream around the intrusion.
The chamber vibrated with a low, subsonic hum as the portal yawned wider, its edges dripping with viscous, shimmering fluid that defied gravity. More tentacles surged forth, each one thicker and more sinuous than the last, their surfaces alive with undulating patterns that pulsed in time with the witches’ racing heartbeats. Veyla’s thighs trembled as the tendril in her mouth withdrew slightly, only to plunge back in deeper, the ridges along its length catching against her tongue in a way that made her toes curl. Another slid between her asscheeks, probing with unhurried precision before pushing inside, the stretch burning most sweetly her body yielding, then clenching around the intrusion as if desperate for more.
Mara’s breath came in ragged gasps as the tendril fucking her cunt began to swell, its ridges expanding rhythmically, each pulse dragging against her G-spot until her vision whited out. She barely registered the slick sound of her own arousal dripping onto the stone below, her hips bucking helplessly against the relentless thrusts. A second tentacle, thinner but no less insistent, circled her asshole, the tip flicking against the tight ring of muscle before pressing inside, inch by torturous inch. The dual penetration had her keening, her body strung tight between pleasure and overstimulation, every nerve alight.
Elara, ever the glutton, arched off the ground as a fourth tendril joined the two already stretching her holes, its tapered tip probing the tight space beneath her clit before sliding upward, filling her urethra with a slow, deliberate push. Her scream was muffled by the tentacle fucking her throat, her body convulsing as the new sensation ripped through her a sharp, electric pleasure-pain that bordered on blasphemy. The tendrils inside her seemed to pulse in unison now, their rhythm stuttering as if sensing her impending climax.
Then the ovipositors emerged.
The first ovipositor breached the portal with a sound like tearing silk thick as a forearm, its tapered tip glistening with translucent mucus that dripped onto the stone floor. Veyla’s breath hitched as it hovered before her spread thighs, the swollen base of the appendage pulsing with a slow, liquid rhythm. Before she could process the sheer size of it, the tentacles restraining her wrenched her legs wider, her hips tilting upward in offering. The ovipositor pressed against her dripping entrance, its tip flaring open to reveal a ring of tiny, undulating cilia that latched onto her labia with startling delicacy. Then it pushed.
Veyla’s scream shattered into a broken moan as the ovipositor stretched her beyond anything the tentacles had prepared her for, the thick ridges along its length dragging against her inner walls with torturous precision. Her cunt fluttered wildly, trying to accommodate the impossible girth, but the ovipositor didn’t relent it burrowed deeper, its tip curling upward until it pressed against her cervix with insistent pressure. A hot, syrupy fluid began pumping into her, coating her insides with a tingling warmth that made her muscles go lax. Then came the first egg.
It slid free of the ovipositor with a slick pop, round and heavy as a goose egg, its gelatinous surface shimmering with faint bioluminescence. Veyla whimpered as it settled deep inside her, the weight of it pressing against her womb in a way that was somehow right. The ovipositor withdrew slightly, only to ram forward again, depositing another egg with ruthless efficiency. Her belly began to swell visibly, the skin taut and glossy with sweat as the eggs piled up inside her, each new addition sending a fresh wave of dizzying pleasure through her overstimulated nerves.
Mara’s turn came next. The ovipositor that claimed her was thicker, its ridges more pronounced, and it didn’t bother with preamble it speared her in one brutal thrust, the force of it lifting her off the ground entirely. She hung suspended between the tentacles, her body impaled on the monstrous appendage as it began pumping eggs into her with a frenzy that bordered on violence. Each egg stretched her womb further, the pressure building until tears streaked her cheeks, her mouth hanging open around the tentacle still fucking her throat. Her stomach rounded obscenely, the skin straining as the eggs shifted inside her with every thrust, their weight dragging her toward a climax that felt less like pleasure and more like reckoning.
Elara’s ovipositor was the last to emerge a grotesquely beautiful thing, its surface alive with throbbing veins that pulsed in time with her frantic heartbeat. The tip split open like a flower, revealing a spiralling canal slick with viscous fluid that dripped onto her thighs. She barely had time to whimper before it speared her, the initial stretch so intense her vision blurred at the edges. The tentacles holding her legs spread impossibly wider, her hips lifted at an angle that left her utterly exposed as the ovipositor bottomed out inside her with a wet, squelching noise.
The first egg forced its way into her womb with a pressure that bordered on agony, her cunt fluttering wildly around the intrusion as if trying to reject it. But the ovipositor didn’t relent it pulsed rhythmically, each contraction depositing another egg deep inside her until her stomach began to round outward, the skin stretched taut and shiny. Elara’s breath came in ragged, hiccupping gasps around the tentacle still pistoning in her throat, her eyes rolling back as the eggs settled heavily against her cervix. She could feel them shifting inside her, their gelatinous surfaces pressing against one another in a way that sent jolts of electric pleasure up her spine.
Veyla’s body convulsed as her ovipositor gave one final, brutal thrust, depositing a cluster of eggs directly against the mouth of her womb. Her back arched off the ground, her thighs trembling as the last few eggs slid into place, her belly now swollen to the size of a ripe melon. The tendrils restraining her limbs tightened possessively, their ridges vibrating against her skin as if savouring her helplessness. A fresh wave of sticky fluid pumped into her, sealing the eggs in place with a warmth that made her toes curl. She sobbed openly, her body strung tight between pain and mind-numbing pleasure, her cunt clenching rhythmically around the ovipositor as it finally, finally began to withdraw.
Mara’s release was less graceful. The moment her ovipositor pulled free, her body seized, her thighs clamping around nothing as a violent orgasm ripped through her. The eggs inside her shifted with the force of it, their weight pressing against sensitive inner walls in a way that dragged the climax out into an endless, shuddering wave. She barely registered the tentacle slipping from her mouth, her lips swollen and silverededededededverververververck with saliva as she gasped for air. Her stomach was distended obscenely, the skin stretched so tight she could see the faint outline of each egg beneath the surface.
Elara’s body gave one final, violent shudder as the ovipositor slid free from her ravaged cunt, leaving her gaping and dripping with viscous fluid. The eggs inside her pulsed faintly, their bioluminescent glow casting eerie shadows across the taut curve of her belly. She collapsed forward onto her hands and knees, panting, her sweat-slicked back trembling with exertion. The tentacles that had held her suspended loosened their grip but didn’t retreat entirely; instead, they coiled possessively around her waist and thighs, their ridges massaging her oversensitive skin in slow, sinuous waves.
Veyla let out a weak, delirious laugh as she rolled onto her side, her swollen belly pressing heavily against the cold stone floor. “Fuck,” she slurred, her voice raw from screaming. One hand drifted down to cradle the curve of her stomach, her fingers sinking slightly into the yielding flesh. The eggs shifted under her touch, rolling against one another with a wet, sloshing sound that sent a fresh jolt of pleasure-pain through her exhausted body. “I can feel them moving,” she breathed, her eyelids fluttering.
Mara was the last to recover, her limbs still twitching with residual spasms. She propped herself up on one elbow, her free hand drifting between her thighs, where her pussy still fluttered weakly around nothing. The emptiness was almost unbearable; she needed to be filled again, needed the pressure, the stretch, the impossible fullness. Her gaze flicked to the portal, which still shimmered ominously, its edges undulating like a living thing. “They’re not done with us,” she murmured, her voice hoarse.
As if in response, the tendrils still wrapped around their bodies tightened fractionally, their surfaces growing slicker, hotter. A fresh wave of that tingling, syrupy fluid seeped from their pores, coating the witches’ skin in a glistening sheen that smelled faintly of ozone and something muskier, more primal. Elara moaned as one particularly thick tendril slid between her asscheeks, its tapered tip probing her already-stretched hole with agonising patience. “Oh god,” she whimpered, her hips pushing back instinctively. “More”
Elara’s plea was answered before the last syllable had fully left her lips. The tendril pressing against her asshole surged forward with a wet, obscene pop, burying itself to the hilt in one smooth motion. Her back arched violently, her swollen belly dragging against the stone as the intrusion sent shockwaves of pleasure up her spine. The eggs inside her shifted, pressing against her cervix in a way that drew a ragged scream from her throat half pain, half delirious ecstasy. The tentacle fucking her ass began to pulse, its ridges expanding rhythmically, each contraction dragging against her overstimulated walls until her vision blurred at the edges.
Veyla wasn’t spared either. A fresh cluster of tendrils erupted from the portal, their surfaces glistening with fresh mucus as they converged on her spread thighs. One, thicker than the rest, pressed against her gaping cunt, its tip flaring open to reveal a ring of tiny, undulating cilia that latched onto her swollen labia with possessive urgency. It plunged inside without ceremony, bottoming out in a single thrust that sent her stomach lurching. The eggs inside her rolled heavily, their weight pressing against her bladder in a way that should have been uncomfortable would have been, if not for the tendril now coiling around her clit, its ridges vibrating with a frequency that made her toes curl.
The ovipositor buried in Elara's womb pulsed violently, its swollen ridges locking against her cervix as a fresh wave of hot, viscous fluid flooded her already-stuffed belly. She could feel the eggs inside her shifting, rolling against each other like marbles in a sack of warm oil. Her body arched off the ground, suspended only by the tentacles coiled around her wrists and ankles, her toes curling as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. The tendril in her ass thickened suddenly, its ridges flaring wide then she was coming, her cunt clenching around nothing as the dual stimulation ripped through her like lightning. The orgasm tore through her with such force that her vision whited out entirely, her scream lost in the wet squelch of the ovipositor withdrawing, leaving her gaping and dripping onto the stone below.
Veyla's climax came slower, more torturous. The tendrils fucking her mouth and ass fell into a synchronized rhythm, their ridges dragging against her sensitive flesh with relentless precision. But it was the one coiled around her swollen belly that undid her its tip probing the stretched skin just above her pubis, vibrating with a frequency that resonated through the eggs packed inside her. She came with a sob, her body convulsing as the eggs shifted violently, their weight pressing against her cervix in a way that bordered on agony. The tendrils milked her through it, their movements growing almost tender as they withdrew one by one, leaving her shuddering and gasping on the cold stone, her stomach distended like a ripe fruit.
Mara's release was the messiest of all. The moment the last ovipositor pulled free, her body rebelled her cunt fluttering around nothing, her asshole clenching as if trying to suck the emptiness back in. A fresh wave of that tingling fluid gushed from her gaping holes, mixing with her own slick on the stone below. The tentacles restraining her limbs loosened their grip, sliding away with a final, possessive caress along her sweat-slicked skin. She collapsed forward onto her hands and knees, her swollen belly swaying heavily beneath her as another weak orgasm rippled through her exhausted body. Her thighs trembled violently, unable to support her weight any longer, and she rolled onto her side with a whimper, one hand drifting instinctively to cradle the curve of her stuffed womb.
The portal shimmered ominously for a heartbeat longer its edges curling inward like a flower closing at dusk then collapsed with a sound like a sigh. The chamber fell silent save for the witches' ragged breathing and the occasional wet slosh of shifting eggs. The candles, long extinguished, offered no light, but the eggs inside them pulsed faintly with their own bioluminescence, casting eerie shadows across their sweat-slicked skin.
Elara was the first to move. She dragged herself onto her elbows, her swollen belly pressing heavily against the stone beneath her. Her thighs were streaked with a mix of fluids her own arousal, the viscous mucus from the tendrils, something thicker and darker that might have been blood. She didn't care. Her fingers trembled as they traced the outline of an egg pressing against the taut skin just above her pubis. "Fuck," she breathed, her voice raw. "They're moving."
Veyla let out a weak, delirious laugh. Her own stomach rolled visibly as the eggs shifted inside her, their gelatinous surfaces pressing against sensitive inner walls. "I can feel them too," she whispered. Her hands drifted lower, fingers sinking into the yielding flesh of her belly as if trying to cradle the impossible weight within her. A fresh wave of warmth spread through her pelvis something sweet and syrupy that made her eyelids flutter. "Oh god. They're alive."
Mara didn't respond. Her fingers were buried between her thighs, working furiously at her clit as her hips bucked weakly against her own hand. The emptiness was unbearable her cunt fluttering around nothing, her asshole twitching with every movement of the eggs inside her. She needed to be filled again, needed the stretch, the pressure, the impossible fullness. But the portal was gone, and all that remained were the eggs shifting inside her, their gelatinous surfaces pressing against sensitive inner walls with every movement.
Veyla was the first to recover. She dragged herself onto her hands and knees, her thighs streaked with a mix of fluids—her own arousal, the viscous mucus from the tendrils, something thicker and darker that might have been cum. Her fingers trembled as they traced the outline of the last egg pressing against the taut skin of her belly. "Fuck," she breathed, her voice raw. "There's still more."
Mara didn't respond. Her fingers were buried between her thighs, working furiously at her clit as her hips bucked weakly against her own hand. The emptiness was unbearable—her cunt fluttering around nothing, her asshole twitching with every movement of the eggs inside her. She needed to be filled again, needed the stretch, the pressure, the impossible fullness. But the portal was gone, and all that remained were the eggs shifting inside her, their gelatinous surfaces pressing against sensitive inner walls with every movement.
Elara, her cunt gaping obscenely around nothing. She collapsed forward onto her hands and knees, panting, her sweat-slicked back trembling with exertion. The chamber smelled of sex and something darker, muskier—something primal. She could still feel the echoes of the tentacles inside her, their ridges dragging against her inner walls, their thick fluid pumping into her womb. The memory alone was enough to make her cunt clench around nothing, her body aching for more.
The tree draged themselves towards echother legs renderd all but unless covered in god knows what and hols still gaping they caress echothers belly's soon the eggs inside them will hatch and ther demonic children will bring a new age of love and lust to an unsuspecting world.
I don't have specific story ideas but pleaseeeee can you do more freeuse stories. I love it when I see a new story from you and even moreso when it has #freeuse.
I've had an idea for a while to do a story about a freeuse app but never got it quite right. But i think its time to give the idea another look.
"Please, Mistress. I can't, I can't take it anymore." The words tumbled out in a rush, my voice cracking as I knelt naked on the cold tile floor. The chastity belt weighed heavily between my thighs, its unyielding metal a constant reminder of six months without relief. Six months of the year, I'd agreed to and signed a contract for. My skin prickled under the weight of her gaze, the air thick with the scent of leather and the faintest hint of my own desperation.
Mistress tapped her riding crop against her thigh, the slow, rhythmic tap-tap-tap making my stomach twist. "You think begging changes anything?" she asked, tilting her head. Her boots clicked against the floor as she circled me, the sound echoing in the sparse room. I kept my eyes down, but I could feel her smirk.
The tap-tap-tap of the crop stopped abruptly. Mistress crouched in front of me, the leather of her gloves creaking as she gripped my chin, forcing my gaze up. Her dark eyes glittered with a mix of amusement and pity. "You’re really suffering, aren’t you?" she murmured, her thumb brushing over my lower lip. I nodded frantically, my thighs pressing together, not that it did any good.
Mistress exhaled through her nose, a slow, deliberate sound, then released my chin. "Fine," she said, standing abruptly. The word sent a jolt through me, hope and terror tangled together. She walked to the far wall where the Sybian sat beneath its dust cover, its silhouette unmistakable even shrouded. My breath hitched as she pulled the cover away with a single sharp tug, revealing the sleek black machine, its saddle glistening under the overhead lights.
Mistress ran a gloved hand along the Sybian’s smooth surface, her fingers tracing the ridges of its controls with practised familiarity. "You’ll get your chance of release," she said, her voice low and deliberate. "But there is a cost, you will be this way I want you." The words slithered into my ears, curling around my hope and squeezing. She patted the machine’s saddle, the sound muffled but ominous. "Up. Now."
The cold bite of leather cuffs snapped around my wrists before I could react, yanking my arms behind my back with a sharp, practised efficiency. Mistress's breath ghosted across my ear as she leaned in, her fingers working the buckle tighter. "You'll thank me for this later," she murmured, the words dripping with dark amusement. The chastity belt's lock clicked, a sound I'd dreamed of for months, but the relief was short-lived. My thighs trembled as the metal finally fell away, leaving me exposed, raw, and achingly empty.
The saddle was warmer than I expected, not the cold plastic I’d braced for, but something that almost felt alive beneath me. Mistress’s hands guided my hips down with terrifying precision, the dildo’s tapered tip pressing insistently against my entrance. My body betrayed me instantly, slick and eager despite six months of denial. "Oh, fuck!" The word shattered into a gasp as she pushed me down fully, the silicone stretching me wide in one smooth, relentless motion. My back arched involuntarily, but her grip on my waist held me firm, forcing me to take every inch until my thighs met the machine’s base.
Then the ridges. Oh god, the ridges. The moment my clit made contact, a shockwave of sensation ripped through me, sharp and electric. They weren’t smooth, no, they were textured, uneven, each tiny peak and valley designed to drag against hypersensitive flesh without mercy. I whimpered, my toes curling against the floor as Mistress buckled a padded strap across my lap, pinning me in place. Another strap cinched tight around my ankles, bolted to the Sybian’s base. The finality of the click echoed in my skull.
"Low setting," Mistress announced, flicking a switch with her thumb. The machine beneath me purred to life, a deep, rhythmic vibration that travelled up through my bones. It wasn’t the punishing intensity I’d feared, just a steady, insistent hum that set every nerve alight without overwhelming them. At first, it was almost... bearable. Then the dildo inside me pushed slightly, a slow, steady pulse up and down, the penetration I had been desperate for, and the ridge beneath my clit pulsed in a slow, teasing pattern. My breath hitched. It was maddening. Close enough to make my hips jerk forward, seeking friction, but never enough to tip me over.
The first hour was a slow unravelling. The Sybian’s vibrations teased the swollen, over-sensitive flesh of my clit with agonising precision, each pulse a whisper of what could be, but never quite enough to push me over. My thighs trembled, slick with sweat, every muscle coiled tight as a spring. I tried rocking forward, desperate for more pressure, but the straps held me immobile, forcing me to take the machine’s cruel, calculated rhythm exactly as it was given.
By the second my whimpers had dissolved into a continuous, breathless moan. The Sybian's rhythm hadn't changed, hadn't wavered, but my body had. Every pulse of the machine sent sparks skittering along my nerves, the sensation pooling low in my belly like molten lead. I clenched around the dildo, my body trying desperately to milk it for more, but the silicone remained unyielding. Mistress had perched herself on the arm of a nearby chair, idly flipping through a magazine as if I weren't writhing just feet away. The occasional glance she tossed my way was clinical, amused. Like watching a lab rat press a lever over and over, knowing the treat would never come.
Hour three. The vibrations had become a dull, torturous ache, my clit swollen and throbbing under the machine’s relentless teasing. My breaths came in shallow gasps, my skin slick with sweat, every nerve alight with a need that refused to be satisfied. I barely noticed when Mistress shifted from her chair, until the soft rustle of leather filled the silence as she dropped her thong. Sitting back down, he rested her thighs on each arm of the chair. Looking me in the eyes with a Cheshire cat grin, her fingers began to rub her clit in the way I knew all too well she loved.
I watched, transfixed, as her fingers moved with practised ease, her breath hitching ever so slightly. The sight alone sent a fresh wave of desperation through me, her pleasure so close, so available, yet utterly out of reach. My hips jerked involuntarily, the Sybian’s vibrations dragging another broken moan from my throat. Mistress’s smirk deepened, her fingers dipping lower, teasing her entrance before sliding back up. "What's the matter?," she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement. "You're out of chastity if you really want to cum just do it."
Her taunt hung in the air, a cruel joke. I couldn’t. The machine’s rhythm was just enough to keep me teetering on the edge, never granting release. My thighs trembled, my back arching as another pulse of near-pleasure ripped through me. Mistress sighed, her fingers moving faster now, her own breath coming quicker. The wet sound of her fingers working her clit filled the room, mingling with the Sybian’s steady hum and my own ragged gasps.
Then, with a sharp inhale, Mistress’s body tensed. Her fingers stilled for a heartbeat, before she came with a low, shuddering moan, and a gush that almost crossed the room, her thighs squeezing around nothing. For a moment, she stayed like that, her head tipped back, riding the aftershocks. Then, slowly, she lowered her feet to the floor and stood, her movements languid, satisfied. She stepped closer, her gaze locked on mine as she dragged a single, slick finger down her thigh.
The first drop had hit my collarbone, warm and sticky. The second landed on my lower lip. My tongue darted out instinctively, tasting salt and musk and her, the flavour sending a fresh bolt of desperation through me. My Mistress chuckled, watching my reaction with dark amusement. "Pathetic," she murmured, wiping her fingers on my shoulder. "You’d take anything now, wouldn’t you?” I sucked eagerly having long since become addicted to her taste in my long denial.
The door clicked shut behind Mistress, leaving me alone with the Sybian’s relentless hum and the echo of her laughter still clinging to the air. My thighs trembled against the machine’s base, slick with sweat and frustration, every nerve still alight with the ghost of her fingers on my skin. The thong in my mouth was soaked through, my tongue working absently around my open mouth, chasing the fading taste of her. I hadn’t realised I’d closed my eyes until the sharp creak of the door hinges startled them open again.
Mistress strode back in, her boots clicking against the tile with deliberate slowness. But it wasn’t the sound that seized my attention, it was the towering, ornate mirror she dragged behind her, its gilded frame catching the overhead lights. My breath hitched as she positioned it directly in front of the Sybian, angling it just so until my reflection stared back at me: flushed, trembling, desperate. The straps pinning me in place forced my back into a slight arch, my hips canted forward obscenely, the dildo buried inside me glistening with evidence of my futile arousal. My clit, swollen and red, pulsed against the Sybian’s textured ridge in a rhythm that was almost cruel in its consistency.
"There," Mistress murmured, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Now you can watch." Her gloved fingers traced the edge of the mirror’s frame, her smirk deepening as my eyes darted between her and my own reflection. "Watch how desperate your eyes look. How needy." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "How close?" The word dripped with mockery, because we both knew, I knew, close didn’t matter. Not at this moment. Not like this. All my desperation hadn't turned into an orgasm.
Time lost all meaning. The Sybian’s vibrations had long since blurred into a constant, throbbing hum that pulsed through my body with the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat. The overhead lights swam in my vision, the irrrrrrr harsh glow melting into a hazy halo. Was it hour four? Five? The numbers slithered through my fingers like smoke every time I tried to grasp them. The straps holding me down felt like they’d fused to my skin, the padded leather biting into my mistress's with every involuntary twitch. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger, lips parted, pupils blown wide, sweat-slicked hair clinging to my forehead in damp curls. The only indicator of time was my mistress coming in every hour to give me water..
The overhead lights dimmed, or maybe my vision blurred, as the Sybian’s vibrations shuddered to a halt. The sudden silence was louder than the machine’s hum had ever been, my body still thrumming with phantom pulses, every nerve screaming for more. Mistress’s boots clicked against the tile as she approached, her shadow swallowing me whole. Her gloved fingers found the buckle at my ankles first, the leather strap falling away with a whisper. The relief was immediate; my calves burned as they finally relaxed. My Mistress carefully lifted me from the sybian. My legs by this time were shaking too badly to use.
I felt the slow withdrawal of the dildo that had been both pleasure and torment and the desperate need deep inside to have it back in to finally cum my exhausted sweaty body crying out in frustration as it had never done before. I had thought myself desperate before but now... I lay there recovering my head lying on my mistress's bare lap. The scent of her orgasm still lingered as she stroked my hair. " You have been such a good girl today. I'm very proud of you, I've put you through a lot but you can rest now."
I don't know how long I lay there for just me and my mistress but under her care, I started to come back to my normal if unbelievably frustrated self. Looking up into my mistress's eyes I asked "Can you release my arms now mistress?" With a smile, she nodded and got up to get the key to the cuffs but also to get the chastity belt. That steel prison I both hated and craved. In a flash, it was back on, the familiar tightness against my swollen sensitive flesh. As the lock clicked back into place my mistress uttered words that made me run cold. "Now you've had your chance at an orgasm, I will have to reset the clock for another year.”
Ok so thr ADHD part of my brain is finally letting me write again I have 4 story's almost finished!
Well my brain is cooperating and letting me do the things I enjoy, do any of you have any ideas for story's you would like me do do? If so send me an ask or a DM ( anonymously is fine. ) and ill get on it well the juices are flowing.
Ok so thr ADHD part of my brain is finally letting me write again I have 4 story's almost finished!
Well my brain is cooperating and letting me do the things I enjoy, do any of you have any ideas for story's you would like me do do? If so send me an ask or a DM ( anonymously is fine. ) and ill get on it well the juices are flowing.
