septimusmoonlight - Tumblr blog

[septimusmoonlight]

(hi! First time here and I have to say, love your writing style 💕)

A fantasy I've been having as of late.

Being the king of a kingdom that is being invaded by a nation of monsters led a tyrannical orc warlord.

Despite the best efforts of our greatest warriors, my kingdom eventually falls to the enemy and I am captured.

My hands are chained behind my back by two of the warlords guards and taken to what used to be MY throne room.

As soon as we arrived, the first thing I noticed was all the people inside. I immediately recognize the nobles of my Court as well as my royal guard. I even see a few of my generals, all of whom are completely battered and bloody.

Finally, I look forward to see that damn orc sitting on what was once my throne, looking down at me with an arrogant, almost sadistic smirk.

I am then brought before the warlord. I prepare for my death, but instead of feeling the painful stab of metal, the warlord roughly takes hold of my clothes before tearing them right off my body.

Before I can even react the orc then pulls me into his lap and spreads my legs wide apart exposing my boypussy for all to see.

I struggle and demand he let me go immediately, but the orc only laughs. He roughly grabs my face, before forcefully kissing me, shoving his tongue into my mouth.

His other hand moves in between my thighs. His fingers rub against my wet folds, before pushing two of them into my aching cunt.

I can't help, but moan as the orc fingers my pussy, his long fingers reaching places mine never could.

It doesn't take long for me to cum, squirting all over the warlord's fingers. The orc finally pulls away from my mouth, if only so he can taste my juices that coated his fingers.

I'm praying that this monster is finally satisfied after thoroughly humiliating him in front of my people. But oh no, it doesn't end there.

The orc warlord then pulls out his massive, thick veiny cock and runs his enlarged tip along the length of my cunt.

Immediately, I began to panic. I beg the orc to stop. That I don't want it! It's too big! It won't fit! It'll split me in half! But ah, my pleas and protests fall on deaf ears.

Well, yeah, of course orcs are going to be able to best some pitiful human kingdom in battle - have you seen how big they are?

Oh, you certainly have. And even if you hadn't before, there's no way you escape the reality of just how weak you are in comparison now, completely helpless, spread open and exposed. The orc warlord's tongue is long enough that it can practically reach the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex while his oversized fingers attack your g-spot relentlessly, viciously, a terrible pleasure that makes your eyes roll back in your head. Your moans are muffled around the meaty, wet tongue invading your mouth, drool sliding down your chin as the warlord makes you cum against your will, humiliating you in front of his court and your own.

He's more than willing to make things worse. His cock is oversized, even for someone of his build and stature, easily the length of your forearm and twice as thick. He rubs it up and down your freshly-soaked cunt, like a teasing lover instead of a conquering tyrant preparing to claim a new toy. You throw your dignity to the wind and beg for mercy, pleading with him not to break you, but it's no use. He's set upon proving his dominance in every way he possibly can. To the victor go the spoils, after all.

It takes no effort at all for him to lift you by your thighs and rest you on the head of his cock, almost delicately. Its sheer girth prevents you from sinking down onto it, but it still spreads you open, clearly impossible for you to take. At least, that's what you desperately want to believe. If there's no physical way for him to fit inside of you, he can't claim the most thorough dominion of all, he can't prove that he's better and stronger than you, he can't prove that you're weak and pathetic and useless -

But he can. He can, and he does, yanking down on your legs and thrusting up to meet you. The head of his cock pops into your cunt with a horrendous shock of pain that radiates all the way up your body, making your back arch, making your voice flee entirely. You're left to choke out wordless sounds as he sinks you onto him, slowly, slowly, making you experience every single fucking second, ensuring that the process isn't over any sooner than he wants it to be. It's almost a blessing that he made you cum before starting. You don't want to consider what it would have felt like for him to attempt going in dry.

After what feels like an eternity, he unchains your hands from behind your back, but only to make you feel out the impossible bulge in your midsection where he's seated himself. He makes you stroke it up and down like you're jacking him off, he makes you caress right where the head of his cock is lodged beneath your ribcage, he makes you touch yourself so that you shudder and clench tighter around him. Unbidden tears roll down your cheeks from the sheer overwhelm.

He commands you to keep masturbating - and then starts using your body for his pleasure, thrusting up into you without abandon, pummeling your weak human body into submission. You cry out, then start whimpering, moaning, unable to hold back, sobbing for breath in between cries of pleasure. It's almost easy for you to forget that the entirety of your former court is watching this happen, given that focusing on your surroundings is nearly impossible. You can't pay attention to anything except the way your midsection distends around the orc wardlord's cock, the way your cuntlips hug him tightly, the way your pussy twitches in pleasure. Pleasure. It's not supposed to feel good, fuck, it's not supposed to feel good to get completely destroyed by your worst enemy - but you have no choice. You have no choice. You're his now, you belong to him entirely, and he can do whatever he wants to you.

He's all too glad to prove that. After long enough that your head is swimming and you're half-delirious, he finally, finally holds you down on his cock as it pulses and throbs inside of you. An enormous load of seed, far too big for the human body to take under any other circumstance, floods your defenseless womb as he growls a command for you to cum - and you do, more tears rolling down your face as you rub faster and faster until you have no choice but to howl your pleasure to the ceiling of your former throne room, shivering as you milk the warlord for as much cum as he can possibly give you. His cock is no longer visible in your midsection, disguised by the sheer volume of fluid he's forcing you to take, ballooning your poor battered body to make you look pregnant, three, six, nine months in, more, too heavy for you to even think about moving.

Fortunately - or unfortunately - the warlord doesn't want you to move. He's going to move you himself.

He starts thrusting again.

[septimusmoonlight]

Imagine with me: Earth has been conquered by a race of buff alien lizardmen.

Humans with cunts are taken from earth and forced to work as servants to the ruling class of lizard men on their home planet.

I and a few other humans end up serving a high ranked general, who has a habit of hosting large gatherings with fellow military officers.

Some of the human servants are serving food and drinks, however most are busy being mercilessly fucked by their lizard masters.

The newer humans are begging them to stop. Their dicks are too big. It's too much. Please don't cum inside!

The humans that have been here longer are the complete opposite. They shamelessly moan as their pussies are fucked open. They beg the lizards to knot them. Fill them with their seed and knock them up.

I'm one of the humans holding a tray of food just forced to watch the whole thing. Ignoring the wetness I feel between my legs and pray that I can make it through this without getting raped by one of these huge lizardmen.

Unfortunately, it seems I'm not lucky today.

It probably doesn't feel quite right to get wet at the thought of getting raped open on those alien cocks, but you can't help it. You can't control the way your cunt throbs at the idea of cumming unwillingly, of being bred, of being used. Right now, however, those thoughts are all you have, and you try your best not to get distracted. The prisons on this damned planet aren't nearly as fun as the opulent dining halls - depending on your definition of "fun", of course - and you don't want to risk punishment for not performing up to the general's standards.

Naked, collared, bearing a tray of food you barely recognize as edible, you have to delicately skirt around the tangles of bodies and sobbing victims in order to reach party attendees who barely pay attention to you. They simply pluck appetizers from the tray you hold out to them and continue their indecipherable chatter, inhuman language you can't understand. Of course, the new slaves and toys don't get the same universal translator tech everyone else does - why would something so stupid and pathetic deserve to understand the conversation of dignified officers and emissaries? Sure, it would be fun if the cocksleeves could understand the threats and insults being thrown at them, but the fear and uncertainty is too delicious to give up.

You pass by a cluster of humans that have been thoroughly broken in, each of them subject to the whims of at least two of the reptilian aliens. Even the shortest of the aliens is at least half-again as tall as the tallest of the humans, and with such obvious musculature it's clear that breaking in humans is easy for a people such as this. These toys have lost their will to resist, their dignity, their shame, begging to be raped open and knocked up, begging to be a breeding slave. You wonder if that will be you someday. Deep down, you know that you'll be begging as soon as one of those oversized knotted cocks sinks into your defenseless cunt.

That time might come sooner than you expect. Your tray of food empties quickly, but before you can refill it, one of the officers at the table catches you by the arm and yanks you into his grasp. Your tray clatters to the floor as he spreads your legs and sits you on his lap, sliding his cock between your thighs to slick himself up with your juices. Alien laughter greets the sight of your wet, ready cunt. They're clearly taunting you for being turned on by all of this. Your face burns with shame, but at the same time there's a primal part of your brain that yearns for this, that's always been yearning for this.

He lifts you up and sinks you onto the tapered tip of his cock. You whimper. It's already so big that it's forcing you open wider than you've ever been before, barely on the edge of painful. You get more uncomfortable as he slides deeper, but your cunt twitches and throbs at the stimulation. You fight back the urge to touch yourself. Some of the officers really don't like it when the toys try to enjoy themselves too much, and you won't know if masturbating is punishable until you try, so you just have to avoid it altogether, reliant entirely on the unfamiliar pleasure being foisted upon you without your consent.

He's a little over halfway in when he reaches your cervix. He presses up against it, as though annoyed that he can't get any deeper, but it certainly isn't stopping him from enjoying himself - he just starts thrusting, pounding up against it like it's an obstacle for him to overcome instead of a part of your physiology. It hurts, it hurts, but the way he's manhandling you and stretching you open, filling you up, fuck - you're moaning in pain, yes, but your whimpering is unmistakably needy, submissive. The other aliens at the table just continue on with their conversations, paying no mind to how throughly you're getting fucked open.

Your cervix is no match for the sheer force and power you're subject to. The alien can batter through it with little effort, violent and cruel, and you scream when your womb wraps around the head of his cock and you're finally sitting all the way in his lap. Your midsection distends around him as he keeps you there for a few moments, pleased, relishing how tightly your body hugs him. It's almost like you want to be raped open, knocked up, used, used, used.

The alien picks up thrusting, just fucking your womb directly. It hurts, and it's uncomfortable, and it's clearly not anything the human body was designed for, but the only thing you can do is withstand it, withstand the stimulation, the pleasure of being fucked. Sex is sex, even if you didn't ask for it - maybe, in this case, especially if you didn't ask for it. Heat gathering in your lower belly, moaning less and less pained, whimpered pleas dangerously close to begging at this point. You can tell he's getting closer, with jerkier motions and less controlled vocalizations - and that's what makes you throw the last of your humanity away. Now, you're one of the broken ones, begging to be knotted and bred, begging to be a slave. You get the feeling, distantly, that you were easier to break than most. Maybe you wanted to be broken.

He answers your prayers. With the tip of his cock buried in your womb, he fills you up with more cum than the human body should ever take, his knot swelling inside your cunt to fill you more than you thought could feel good - but here you are, shivering, moaning, cumming around him. Your body responds to your status as a slave, accepting your position, taking pleasure in your use as a cocksleeve. The knot stretches you wide, wide, and your belly swells, rounding out obscenely in a way that almost makes you cum all over again, hot off the tail of your first orgasm. You want to cum again, you want to cum again from being raped open, treated as nothing but a breeding slave.

It's a good thing that knot isn't going down anytime soon. It's an even better thing that another one of the partygoers is approaching your face, hard and ready.

You willingly open your mouth.

[septimusmoonlight]

Hiii

I have a huge thing for humans giving in to their primal/animalistic instinct sex urges and just fucking/mating/breeding like animals. So I often think about a world where (everyone is 18+ in the world) sex out in public whenever the urge hits you is completely normal so you just see people going at it in various locations publicly because they have to satisfy those urges in that moment and can’t wait to find somewhere private to go. Because after all, it’s only natural to need to satisfy those urges, right?

Hmm...that's reasonable enough :3

It only makes sense for people to give in, right? If these urges are so commonplace and accepted, it's so much easier to just get it out of your system wherever and whenever you can instead of trying to hold off until you're someplace private. Who cares who's watching, or what else is happening? It's not reasonable to expect people to stave off these carnal urges all the time - something has to be done.

And that 'something' is, of course, just fucking wherever possible. On hands and knees on the sidewalk, scraping their palms, people steering around them without a second thought; bent over the table in the coffee shop, trying to growl and moan a little more quietly so that they don't disturb the other patrons; a threesome on a bench in the park, with some people taking pictures to use as inspiration later. It's almost impossible for someone not to have rough sex in every location they spend a lot of time in - the library, the grocery store, the front porch of their home, they have to give in. It's too much to bear otherwise.

If these primal instincts are strong enough, it's probably normal for someone to just tackle a stranger and rip their pants off right there and then. If someone doesn't give consent, they make it very clear by fighting off the prospective mate, regardless of position, but that's frankly unusual - it's easy to find a partner by just making the desire to participate clear. That's almost sure to set off someone else's instincts almost immediately, even if the people in question aren't a mated set. Knowing someone's name is overrated, anyway.

People with stronger or more lustful desires than others are more likely to take advantage of the environment, too - there are so many places where the urges could take over that it only makes sense to adapt. It's common to see some poor hazy-eyed thing kneeling next to the urinals in a public restroom with their mouth open, masturbating furiously, stuck in that mindless heat-state until someone comes along to help. Maybe there's someone prowling the aisles of a hardware store, armed with all sorts of tools to jam into the holes of the next participant to come along, eager to stretch out someone just as stupid with lust as they are.

Nobody can concentrate if they're feeling all distracted and hot around the collar, right? It's impossible for them to focus on whatever task might be at hand when the deepest parts of their psyche are begging them to get bred, or to knock someone up, or to piss in someone's mouth, or to get their fist inside of someone as soon as possible. The consequences of these deep urges are clear, too - wearing pants in public is certainly optional, and wet floor signs are a lot more common. It's not unusual for someone to be giving birth in the next section while you're shopping for clothes. Someone in a particularly feverish state might resort to licking fluids off of whatever surface they can manage.

We all know what the other is going through. There's no use in holding back.

[septimusmoonlight]

I have a recent, recurring thought about hate f*cking. The type of absolute, aggressive pounding that feels too much like an actual punishment to call it anything else. 

In my head there’s a submissive breeding slave whose womb has expanded and swollen with their owner’s litter far too quickly. Their belly is tight, creating agonizing pressure and tightness nearly crushing their lungs so they’re constantly out of breath and immobile. Watching them desperately clutch their mammoth mound as it pulsates, nearly expanding before their very eyes, the dom gets an idea. He comes over to their front and aligns his massive cock with his subs popped belly button, then begins thrusting inwards and absolutely hate fucking their growing womb. The pain and pleasure it brings to their sub is immense, especially as they grab the swollen orb with their powerful hands and begin to *squeeze* which only tightens the pressure in their cock as they belly fuck their slave.

Suddenly, their sub lets out a pained moan that could peel paint off walls as their belly chooses to undergo a massive growth spurt. The sudden growth turns the already tight pseudo-hole of the inverted belly button into a vice grip. What causes the growth spurt? Could it be from force feeding massive quantities of their own breast milk straight from the source? Or perhaps they’re getting stuffed from the other end by a pack mate?

—

Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that the breeding toy isn’t getting any pleasure out of this. Their purpose isn’t to feel good; they’re here to give others pleasure and to push out their owner’s litter. They’re also here for playing, for punishment, for humiliation - it’s always fun when the owner watches his plaything try to ride his cock, almost too heavy to move, sobbing for breath. Watching them panic just that little bit more at every growth spurt his litter undergoes is satisfying, too, watching the reality sink in that his pups are almost too big for the human body to bear.

This time, though, there’s no riding or breeding for the slave. They don’t even get the dignity of a proper penetration when their owner violates them in an entirely different way, prodding their womb from outside, taking advantage of their tight, swollen body to get a new kind of pleasure out of their helpless little cries. He squeezes their belly hard, harsh, pressing them even tighter around him and making them squirm, unable to get away, pinned in place both by their owner’s domineering presence and by their own insurmountable size, almost comically large with puppies at this point, barely able to move, to breathe, to think.

Another packmate decides to make things worse. His cock isn’t nearly as big as the slave’s owner’s, but that doesn’t make it any less of an ordeal when he manhandles them into just the right position to take his cock up the ass, spreading them wide. They’re more used to getting their cunt bred hard and often, so their asshole isn’t nearly as well-used. That makes it tighter, more pleasurable, easier for the pack mate to get off with, rutting into the slave’s body like they’re a sex toy. They are a sex toy, at this point, only good for humiliating and ruining, using every available part of them for pleasure. It doesn’t matter if something feels good or bad for that poor sub. What matters is if their owner will let it happen to them.

This time, he’s all too glad for it to happen, eager to find out what the effects of a load of cum will be on the already-tight insides of his sub’s overtaxed body. It doesn’t take long for the pack mate to reach a voluminous climax, pumping a hot load of seed into the sub’s guts, stretching them tight around too much liquid, swelling their middle even more. Their skin stretches tighter over their even rounder belly, and their poor abused belly button tightens even further in tandem, really milking the owner’s cock like it’s responding in pleasure. As much as that’s impossible, it’s an amusing thought - the sub’s body taking pleasure from something so obviously uncomfortable, responding like it’s a good sensation just because of how thoroughly they’ve been reduced from a human into a helpless breeding slave.

[septimusmoonlight]

Your crush makes a bet with you: if you can stay out in a corn maze for an hour, he'll fuck you. If his friend can get you and bring you out before the hour is up, his friend will fuck you.

And, I mean, the guy's been stringing you along for ages, and you run as a hobby, and people have told you you're slippery. Sure. Even if you thought you'd lose, you couldn't say no to him.

Except the friend is a werewolf, and one who intends to drag you out of the maze on his knot.

I size up my crush's friend before agreeing, figuring it's worth a try. I'm pretty adept at scrambling out of sticky situations, so it'll probably be simple enough to escape someone without a lot of experience specifically in restraining people. That's what I assume, at least - most of the general public doesn't have a lot of knowledge or training in that one niche area.

Unfortunately for me, I'm sorely mistaken, but I don't know that just yet.

I set off at a jog into the corn maze, taking advantage of the generous head start I'm given to find a solid starting point with multiple routes of escape. Even if he does end up finding me, it'll be easy enough to fake him out and loop back around to one of various other routes. It's starting to get dark out, too, and it only gets darker as I wait around, mildly bored. Is the guy even trying to find me at this point? Am I just going to wait out the whole hour without even having to run?

The corn rustles behind me, then rustles again. It sounds like something moving through, something big, but I don't pay much attention until it starts coming closer, and it's already too late by the time I can see what's causing the noise. A pair of glowing eyes stares at me, unblinking, as a growl rumbles through the air. This is my only warning.

I run. I only barely manage to make a choice and turn down one of my planned alternate routes before the beast is already upon me, using a single giant hand-like paw to knock me to the ground ass-up and pin me there with a hand on my head, using its free set of talons to shred my clothes. I'm left squirming uselessly in the dirt as a fat red wolfcock, veiny, throbbing, rubs teasingly against my cunt, like the monster is showing off just how big it is in comparison to me, just how much it could wreck me. That's when I register what's happening - my crush wasn't kidding when he said his friend would fuck me if he caught me.

The tapered tip plunges into me, and I gasp, then whine. I'm trying to keep quiet, unsure if anybody else is still in the maze this late at night, but the werewolf makes it harder and harder as he pushes deeper, stretching me out, pressing against my cervix to force as much of himself inside as he can. When he can't stretch me any more, he's still not hilted - so he starts fucking, steady and powerful, slamming up against my cervix to sink himself just that little bit more inside. I whimper, moaning, yelping in pain any time he hammers another bruise into my insides. It hurts, of course it hurts, but...sex is sex. I'm getting wetter as he goes.

It's not enough for him. Panting, he starts rutting into me wildly, truly behaving like an animal this time, keeping me easily in place as he humps without abandon. Disoriented, I wonder if werewolves can get humans pregnant, if that will be something I need to worry about later, but my current worries are much more pressing - with a surge of force, my battered cervix gives way to the powerful beast using my body, and I lose my voice entirely as my cervix wraps snugly around that thick shaft. My womb hugs the werewolf's cock, and he growls happily, continuing his rut as his wagging tail rustles the corn around us. I can practically feel the bruises forming at the top of my womb.

By the time he's raped a good three or four orgasms out of me, he finally reaches the end of his own rope and slams his hips forward one more time. He snarls and growls wildly as his knot swells, locking him into my cunt, and a load of wolf cum, hot and thick, pumps directly into my defenseless womb. I whine, my eyes fluttering shut. My midsection swells, visibly bloating with werewolf seed, and his knot keeps every single drop sealed inside. Most of it is already trapped by his cock through my cervix, but anything that manages to escape is faced with the insurmountable obstacle of that thick, juicy knot that's stretching me as wide as a large fist.

When his cock finally stops pulsing, I look a good six months pregnant, but he doesn't let me just lay there to recover. He turns and starts walking, dragging me behind him, yanking me along by my fresh-fucked cunt, and my weak protests mean nothing to a beast this powerful, especially because I'm barely coherent at this point. It's much simpler for him to get out of the maze than it would have been for me - he can just follow the trail he took to find me, easily scent-tracking his way out and back to my crush.

"So, did he cum on your cock at all, or were you the only one who had fun?" my crush asks. I can only hear him distantly, exhausted and disoriented. His werewolf friend barks affirmatively, and my crush laughs. "Wow, I didn't know he was that much of a slut. Maybe if he's still awake by the time your knot goes down, I might take a turn on that."

The smile is audible in his voice. "Then again, I guess it wouldn't matter if he was awake or not."

[septimusmoonlight]

been repeating this in my head all day

[septimusmoonlight]

love when somebody reblogs something horny with a tag for the specific kink in the post and then you can go through everything else they've reblogged with that tag to find more hot posts about it

[septimusmoonlight]

Wasteland

This was originally a commission for someone on ko-fi. Enjoy!

---

"Great job today, as usual," the warlord says idly, removing his makeshift armor while his lieutenant sits at the table in the warlord's personal quarters, disassembling one of the day's stolen weapons and examining its parts. "I appreciate that I can always count on you out there."

The lieutenant nods and shrugs, responding that it's his job to have the warlord's back. He's still so focused on gauging the quality of the looted materials that he doesn't notice the warlord coming up behind him before he puts his hands on his shoulders. "That might be your job out there, but we both know your job while we're alone together, right?" he murmurs. The lieutenant's breathing speeds up, and he tries to stay focused on the task at hand, maintaining a poor facade of professionalism. He confirms.

The warlord laughs quietly. "It's always so cute how you try to keep up your image," he says, one hand trailing up the lieutenant's neck and into his hair to take a gentle handful. He secures a grip on it, and tugs; the lieutenant gasps. The warlord laughs again. "It's tough to pretend you're scarier than you really are, huh? You're good at what you do out in the wasteland, but in my opinion..." He leans down to whisper directly into his lieutenant's ear. "You're even better at what I use you for."

The lieutenant can't really respond to that. His vision unfocuses.

"Come on, take your clothes off," the warlord says condescendingly. "We've talked about this before - you shouldn't wear anything when we're alone together."

The lieutenant obeys, standing up and peeling off his own armor. It's all been clobbered together out of parts that are just bulletproof enough to matter, but it's not bullets he has to worry about here.

As soon as he's naked, the warlord studies him, then nods appreciatively. "I always enjoy seeing you at your weakest. Sure, it's good to have your combat skills while we're in the middle of a raid, but this..." He moves in closer, then forces the lieutenant to his knees. "I love reducing you to what you really are." He's still fully clothed while the lieutenant is entirely defenseless, weak, under his control. He presses his bulge against the lieutenant's face. "Show me how much you need it."

The lieutenant puts up the standard show of reluctance, struggling to not just give in immediately and mouth at the warlord's cock through his pants. He wants to maintain his image, after all - it's important to be strong in the wasteland. The bad news is that his cunt betrays him, sending waves of desperate heat up his body as he pushes his face against it, nuzzling it like a helpless animal.

"Good boy, that's my good boy." The warlord finally frees his cock from his pants, and the lieutenant salivates, staring at it hungrily. The warlord grabs a handful of his hair and yanks his head back. "You want me to use you, right? You want me to be inside you?" The lieutenant nods, his face warm. "Good boy. You want me to hurt you, sweetheart? You like being my stupid toy, don't you?"

The lieutenant nods again.

"That's what I thought." The warlord's cock bobs tantalizingly, just out of reach, and the lieutenant watches as he retrieves the usual piece of equipment from under the bed. It's made from salvaged parts, just like everything else in the wasteland - too big for the lieutenant to take and textured with bumps just barely sharp enough to hurt. It always makes the lieutenant's cunt throb just looking at it.

"Up." The lieutenant raises himself on his knees, allowing the warlord to position the toy beneath him. The warlord uses his fingers to inspect his lieutenant's dripping cunt, then laughs quietly when his hand comes away slick. "You're always such a mess whenever I bring this thing out." He stands back, looming over his vulnerable lieutenant. "Sit."

The lieutenant obeys, gasping as the too-big tip presses up against him. He lowers himself, slowly, slowly, his eyes sliding closed as it stretches him open.

"No, don't close your eyes, look at me." The lieutenant obeys, struggling not to stare at the warlord's cock instead. "Faster. I want you to be impaled on this thing, do you understand me?"

The lieutenant nods, breathing more heavily as he shifts his weight. The catch of those little sharp bumps on his entrance, scraping against his insides as the entire thing spreads him wide, he can feel it pulling him open and it hurts but - but he can't help the way his brain goes fuzzy at each twinge of pain, the way he wants to whimper like a useless meat toy, the way he's so desperate for the warlord's cock that he'll do anything, even making himself suffer. He hopes his desperation is clear in his eyes.

"Good boy, you're such a good boy for me." To the lieutenant's joy, the warlord approaches again, jacking off right in front of the lieutenant's face. "Do you want it to hurt more? Do you want help getting the rest of it in?"

The lieutenant nods eagerly, and the warlord immediately takes his face in his hands to shove his cock down his throat, tilting the lieutenant's head up so that he can stand directly over him and just pump down into his mouth. The angle is so perfect that every thrust of the warlord's hips serves to push the lieutenant further onto the toy, sinking it deeper into his needy cunt, making him whimper and moan uselessly even while he's choking on his master's cock.

The warlord groans. "Fuck, I always forget how tight you are...and you like this. You're so pathetic, drooling over my cock like a whore. It's a miracle you can even pretend to be in charge of anyone out in the wastelands when I can turn you into a slut like this." He grunts, speeding up. The lieutenant's voice cracks as he whimpers, muffled. Most of the noises he's making are just the obscene choking and gagging sounds of his throat welcoming his master's cock. "Does it hurt for me, sweetheart? You like it when it hurts?" Again, the lieutenant can't answer, but the warlord doesn't seem to care. He's really just focusing on making sure his lieutenant knows his place, knows his true purpose. "That's my good boy. You're so stupid and pathetic, such a good boy for me..."

The lieutenant's eyes roll back in his head when he's seated all the way onto the toy, his cunt wrapping tightly around the base, those little spikes digging into his painfully into his walls. It's still just barely too large for him to take comfortably, but that's the point. The point is for him to be uncomfortable, the point is for it to hurt...and the point is that he likes it. He's not the imposing, skilled, lethal force that everybody else knows him as - he's a desperate, whining, needy fleshlight for the warlord to use.

And he knows the night is just getting started.

[septimusmoonlight]

Reasonable Fear

This was originally a commission for someone on ko-fi. Enjoy!

---

The floor of the sterile-looking room is uncomfortable on your knees. The barrel of the gun hums between your teeth and buzzes against the tip of your tongue. It feels warm in your mouth. You don't dare break eye contact with the creature standing over you.

They're tall, digitigrade, with pearlescent skin resembling an exoskeleton. Their long face is almost reptilian, but not quite. All four of their hands are holding a sleek, alien-looking firearm, one of which is shoved into your mouth.

"Good," they purr. Even through a universal translator, every single word drips with condescension. "Now...show me how much you want to live." They press the gun forward, just slightly. Its warmth is unsettling. "I don't want to have to use this."

With your lips wrapped around the barrel, you can only obey orders, painfully aware that the alien's finger is on the trigger. You desperately hope they don't get careless as you lean forward, working your tongue around the unfamiliar weapon. All you can hear is your pulse thundering through your ears.

"I'm sure you can do better than that," the alien says, their hand tensing slightly. Your heart freezes and your head goes blank, but nothing happens. "Show me that you'll worship my weapons like they deserve. I need someone capable of dedication, not mediocre service."

You throw yourself into a mindless display of submission, the gun hitting the back of your throat as your try to prove to the alien that you don't need to be disposed of. You're afraid of setting off the gun if you get too zealous, but your fear of the being holding it is stronger than your fear of an accidental shot. Drool slides down your chin.

"That's a little better, at least," the alien says. "Humans are all so physically weak that even a single gunshot is too much to bear thinking about...pathetic." They holster one of their other guns and pat you on the head, like a human would do to an obedient dog. You feel like a dog, incapable of disobeying. "At least it makes you easy to break."

You're breathing quickly, shallowly. Your lungs are tight with panic. The alien lets you degrade yourself with their gun for even longer, though you're already trying as hard as you can to ensure your own survival; you're not sure what else you could give them. You're not sure what else they want. Their deep blue eyes, alight with interest and amusement, might have been beautiful in any other situation - but right now, you're just making sure your captor stays pleased with your work, leaning into the weapon in your mouth, doing your absolute best to give them what they demand. The alternative isn't something you want to think about. The alternative is something you can't think about - you have to stay focused on the task at hand.

"Stupid thing, too scared to fight back," the alien coos, stroking you with the hand atop your head. "Humans are always like this, but it never gets boring. You're so easy to control, every single one of you." They yank the gun out of your mouth, training it on your forehead. A jolt of terror hits your chest, but the alien doesn't pull the trigger - not yet. "Hands and knees. Now."

You follow orders as fast as you can without fumbling. You're not even sure what you could do to mess up getting onto your hands and knees, but you can't afford to make a mistake right now. The alien drops into a crouch in front of you, gripping your jaw with their free hand as they hold the gun in front of your face again, inviting you to dote upon it. Their finger is still on the trigger. "Use your tongue."

The barrel is still warm as you obey. Does the heat mean the gun is ready to fire, or was recently fired? Why hasn't the alien disposed of you already? Is that their plan once you stop being interesting? Questions race through your mind, but they're all somehow distant, masked behind the terror of the moment. Adrenaline shuts down your higher functions as you trace a circle on the muzzle with the tip of your tongue.

"If you keep being good for me, I won't have to use it," the alien says charmingly. They stand up, withdrawing the gun. Again, their firearms are aimed right at you. "Face on the floor. Bow to me."

Quickly, you touch your forehead to the cold surface beneath you. It's polished so smoothly that your panicked breathing visibly fogs it up as you stare at it, wide-eyed. The alien laughs, and presses down on your head with a foot, the claws on their three toes just barely digging into the back of your scalp. "Doesn't it feel nice to obey? You know I won't hurt you if you just follow my orders - at least, I'll have less of a reason to hurt you." Their voice gets louder as they lean down to speak to you more directly. They press harder. "That doesn't mean I won't decide to get rid of you later, but if you stay where you belong, you have a better chance of staying alive."

They take their weight off of you, and you let out a breath you hadn't known you were holding. "Get onto your knees."

Once you're where you started, the alien kicks you onto your back before planting a foot on your chest. You're staring directly into their eyes, far above you. They have three guns still at the ready. "This is where you belong - beneath me and my kind. All humans should obey us, but the rest will all learn, in time. At least I can teach you, right now, while we're still figuring out something for the others."

Abruptly, they stand back. "Sit." Again, you feel like a dog, following orders. Something in your brain is starting to fizzle out - the human mind isn't meant to stay this afraid for so long. Somewhere, deep in your head, there's an essential part of you being ground away, smoothed out in the face of a gun - especially when the alien kneels to shove it into your mouth again. Their face is very close to yours. The barrels of the other two guns feel like another set of eyes, watching you as you get the gun as far down your throat as possible - not very far, but better than nothing. Most importantly, it seems to be enough.

"Oh, that was nice," the alien purrs. "You didn't even need to be ordered that time. You're a natural - this is where you're supposed to be, weak and pathetic as you are. I can do whatever I want to you, and you know it, don't you?"

You don't answer, too busy wrapping your tongue around the muzzle. It's what you have to do, if you want to stay alive. You're hardly blinking, keeping your eyes trained on the alien's face - you don't know what to look for, on someone so inhuman, but you're prepared to put on the best show you can at the first sign of displeasure or irritation. Irritation might lead to something worse, and something worse isn't something you want to consider. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, but you're just kind of used to it, at this point - it's almost comforting. It's a reminder that you're still a human, in the face of this, but being human also means being fragile. Breakable.

"That's exactly the response I was looking for." The alien pulls the gun away, just slightly, and you lean forward, chasing after it to keep servicing their weapon just like they want. "See, isn't that nice?" They stand. "You can stop now. Hands and knees." You obey. "Look up at me." You obey. They're grinning at you, an odd expression for an unfamiliar, almost-reptilian face. Their teeth are sharp. "Now you know how to stay alive, and I have another broken human under my command."

They gesture at you with the single hand that isn't still holding a firearm. "Stand." You obey. They turn towards the door of the room, and beckon for you to follow them. "Come with me. I want to show my commander how effective this particular method is."

[septimusmoonlight]

hallaburger: hi sep! thinking about a futuristic/fantasy-ish setting where folks with vaginas have to wear ID bands that light up green when they're fertile/ovulating... so when we're out grocery shopping, and our bands light up, it becomes a race against the clock to check out and get to the car before we get tackled to the floor by the first creatures that notice 😫👀🟢

Oh, yeah, if we're up for grabs then it basically becomes an obstacle course to get out of there before someone or something sees it~

It's against the law to hide the wristbands at all, of course. The light has to be visible at all times - red for infertile, yellow for low fertility, and green for a period of high fertility or active ovulation. Even a yellow light gets hungry looks from passers-by and various creatures that have learned to coexist and communicate with humans, which makes it a gamble to go outside at all. All of this is compounded by the fact that there's no real way to tell when your light is going to go green, even with careful tracking of your ovulation cycles. They're built like that on purpose - convenient for everybody except the people wearing them.

And a green light means "go", doesn't it? That's basically just an active invitation to get you pregnant. That's basically why we're wearing the things in the first place.

Doesn't matter when or where it happens, a green light means that someone is going to take advantage of that. A green light on that wristband means you're going to get knocked over right in the middle of the grocery store and bred, probably by everyone and everything there, whether or not the human body is designed to take something like it. It doesn't matter if you asked for it - you don't need to give permission. Having a fertile cunt is more than permission enough.

Sure, you might not have signed up for it, but it'll probably start to feel good anyway, right? Getting filled with load after load is still stimulation, after all, and the human body is going to react to that. It probably ends up being pretty common for someone with a green light to end up moaning like a whore and cumming on more than one cock in the train being run on them. Maybe the lucky ones get off on it, specifically going outside when they think their light is going to turn green just to "get caught".

But that wouldn't be you, right? Definitely not.

Right?

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: Imagine if you will, you've decided to take advantage of a beautiful day to go hiking and are now deep, deep in the woods. You hear a strange sound just off the trail, a bunch of chitters and squeals of frustration. Getting closer, you find a bug infested with parasites rutting against a tree, its sperm sac bulging with a myriad of worms. It wants, it needs to get them out through any means necessary It sees you. Before you know it, your shorts and underwear are shredded and its cock is pistoning into your cunt. It's so hot, engorged from the parasites' brutal stimulation. Your cervix has no chance of withstanding such savagery and eventually submits to its cock. Thick, creamy cum with dozens of worms riding each spurt flows directly into your defenseless, welcoming womb Once your pussy has wrung every last drop and worm from the bug, it pulls out. Your cervix closes, keeping its generous gift inside. Any eggs you'd had in your womb is attacked by bug sperm and parasites, invaded without mercy. The worms reproduce, lining your walls with their own eggs. Turning you into the perfect home You see another bug approaching, its sperm sac bulging It really is a beautiful day

Oh, this...I like this a lot.

Just some poor infested bug trying to relieve itself by rutting against anything and everything it can find...but it's not enough. It needs something warm and soft wrapped around its shaft, around its hot and overstimulated cock, it needs something for relief. Its sperm sac has worms very obviously wriggling beneath its translucent surface, and I can feel the first few that slide out of its cock with its precum thrashing around in my unprotected cunt before the bug's brutality lets it hammer its way through to my defenseless womb.

It's so relieved, so happy, overjoyed to finally have something tight and wet hugging its cock. It can't help but reach climax, spurting thick, sticky cum into me that seems like it's more worms than seed. Its cum and the infestation immediately work together to attack my ovaries and take over my womb, worms latching onto my walls to lay their own eggs as soon as they find a soft landing point, and I can feel them moving, feel my womb struggling to tighten around its new payload. The way they squirm against my walls makes me cum just after the bug does, despite how disgusting it is.

The bug slides out, satisfied for now, and wanders off, certainly looking much less desperate. The same can't be said for me, and I immediately reach for my cunt to masturbate, shoving three, four fingers inside to abuse my g-spot while I caress and massage my newly-swollen belly. It's repulsive and horrifying, but - but fuck, there's just - it's just - I can't help but cum again, and again, and again. I get so lost in the idea and the feeling of being a new host that I don't see the other bug coming before it's too late.

This one jams its insectoid cock into my ass. Its sperm sac, too, is infested with these worms, and even the anticipation of feeling them in my guts makes me cum, squeezing the bug, milking it for all of the parasites it can give me. It mounts me like I'm a breeding bitch for an animal in heat, jackhammering into my ass, spearing deep into my guts without regard for my comfort - all it cares about is getting relief from the torturous overstimulation of the worms, and if some random mammal is the only thing around that can take it, then so be it. I welcome it. If they're already at home in my womb, then there's really nothing for me to lose by letting them into the rest of my body.

Another bug, with the same parasites, seems to take this as an invitation, because a third victim of the infestation finds my mouth. With my fingers sliding in and out of my cunt, my ass wrapped around one bug cock, and my throat squeezing another, I just turn into a mindless host for the bugs and their parasites, welcoming the feeling of squirming bodies sliding into me with gushes of creamy seed. The one in my ass cums first, making my guts stretch with sperm and worm eggs, and the one in my ass fills my stomach next, welcoming the parasites to my stomach lining. Unaffected by my stomach acid, they happily burrow in to start lining any body cavity they can reach with eggs, and the ones in my ass follow suit.

When the one in my mouth pulls out, I manage to suck a small handful of worms out of the head of its cock before it wanders off. I revel in their slimy bodies wiggling on my tongue, the way they seek out someplace warm and closed off. I tilt my head back and open my mouth to feel them squirm while I keep making myself cum, mindless there on the forest floor.

Maybe this is what the bugs felt like. Maybe I'm supposed to pass the infection on to someone else.

But what if I don't want to? What if I want to keep the worms all to myself?

[septimusmoonlight]

thelazyman14: My friend said a spider decided to live in his car, I immediately thought of that spider growing hundreds of times its original size and turning him onto his willing host and his car into a spiders nest. It immediately got me hard... I thought about telling him and I was like "nah, he wouldn't like that" lol I was gonna ask if you can finish that prompt and write something about it. I get too flustered myself. Lol

You know what? Fair enough~ If your friend isn't a huge fan of spiders, why don't we find someone who is?

Some poor guy, taken off-guard by the sudden presence of a too-big arachnid, wouldn't have time to escape if it had taken up residence in someplace he was familiar with. He wouldn't expect it to have found a way to turn his car into a nest, of all things, but here he is and its fangs are sinking into his neck and suddenly...he feels warm. Too warm. His skin is tingling, and his heartbeat is thundering...

He's overtaken by the urge to simply drive away, to find a nice spot to make a nest. It's a simple matter to drive along some dirt road in the woods where nobody has been for decades, but it's a slightly less simple matter with the spider's legs exploring his body, its abdomen pressed between his legs as its ovipositor seeks out a nice target for it to lay its eggs in. He's getting more and more turned on just by the thought of taking this thing's eggs.

Despite his arousal, the spider seems to think it's a safer bet to tie him up for the first breeding, regardless. It binds his arms to his sides and gets his legs out of the way, neatly wrapping him up in web, before plunging its ovipositor into his body and pumping him full of eggs. Eggs, so, so many eggs, squeezing into him and pressing his belly outwards, stretching the skin tight on his midsection, even tearing apart some threads of stretchy spider's silk. He can't help but moan despite how uncomfortable it is. It hurts, sure, but there's just something about being taken over...something about being the spider's host.

As soon as the spider slides out of him and scuttles off to set up a web for hunting purposes, he struggles out of his bonds solely for the purpose of rubbing himself silly and cumming as many times in a row as he possibly can. He uses one hand to masturbate and the other one to rub his distended belly, caressing it, feeling how heavy and round it is, just how different he is now, how perfect it is. He's still dripping by the time the spider comes back.

He gets some sleep that night, but has to keep waking up just to masturbate. He doesn't know what the spider did to him, but he's embracing it fully, leaving behind the part of his brain that was scared of it before and fully turning into its host, into its incubator.

He wakes up in the morning not to the throbbing of his heartbeat through his body but to the sensation of movement in his lower abdomen, something twitching and scraping. Something with legs.

It doesn't take long for all of the eggs to hatch, despite how many of them there were. He's bucking his hips against nothing, seeking stimulation in the air but unwilling to cum until he has baby spiders flooding out of his hole - he wants to feel them, spreading him open and climbing out of his body. His wish is granted, and granted beautifully, with soft-bodied and translucent little things squeezing out of him and past each other to scramble out of the nest and make their way off into the forest. He doesn't even have to touch himself at all to cum over and over again while they're leaving, while he's giving birth to them.

After the last of them leaves, he whimpers, needy. It's a good thing that the spider is right there, and more than ready to use him all over again. For as long as it can.

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: GOD I need werewolf supremacy, like I need them to be real and also the ruling class and also insatiable horny fucked-up bastards. I need werewolves taking humans in the street, pouncing and holding them down and splitting them open on those fat red knots, I need werewolves turning humans into their breeding bitches and fuckslaves and urinals, I need to be forced on all fours and mounted by a feral werewolf in heat, claws shredding and teeth tearing as I cry and plead, only for my cries for help to attract another wolf to shut me up by choking me on its fat dick, my last moments of consciousness spent getting my jaw wrenched open around its knot, waking up so full of cum I already look heavy with pups... Humans should be servicing them, waiting on them hand and foot, doing whatever they want, especially if that means worshipping their fat wolf cocks or carrying their litters or rimming their furry asses while they breed another bitch. I think a werewolf should only need to whip out its dick and drench someone in piss to claim them

And I think you're absolutely correct.

Being a human is risky, but it's not like there's any other choice. No werewolf respects any human enough to turn them, so you have to get lucky and be born a werewolf if you want to be in charge at all. As it is, though, the werewolves born that way are perfectly content with the way things are, perfectly happy to have their pick of any hole that passes them by on the street. The only ones they won't fuck are the ones already clearly marked by another werewolf - they'll only respect another wolf, after all. Any unclaimed human is fair game, but they're not gonna take a fellow wolf's property.

If someone isn't already marked, though, they're good to go. It's common to see someone on the street getting fucked open in broad daylight. Reactions range from sympathy to avoidance to - in the case of other werewolves - joining in. It might even be a common occurrence for someone like you, up for grabs, to get knocked over and taken from behind by force, spread out and opened up by that thick red wolf cock. It would hurt, of course - the werewolves don't give a shit about how the humans feel - but your crying out might get annoying to another wolf. Great opportunity for them to come over and shut you up.

Your vision fades to black as your lungs scream for air with your throat stretched around another wolf cock, shoved so deep into your mouth that you feel like it's in your chest somewhere, as impossible is that is. When you wake up, you're so bloated with cum that you look like you're already carrying a litter of pups, and seed gushes out of you whenever you try to move, coming out of your cunt and mouth and nose. Good luck getting home after that - someone else is going to want a turn, now that they know you can withstand that sort of treatment. Maybe they'll even want to see if they can push you farther, keeping you awake for long enough for their knot to swell behind your teeth, truly locking them in place as you go limp again, out of air and out of freedom.

Maybe it would be better to just be owned by one wolf instead of having to put up with the constant treatment from all of them. It's easy to get marked as someone's territory, after all - all it takes is for one of them to pin you down and piss all over your face and body. Pissing into some stupid human's asshole or cunt doesn't count, or making them suck the wolf piss directly out of their dick; it has to be an active marking, soaking skin and hair and clothes and mouth and eyes in stinging, hot, smelly, bitter piss. That scent might fade to other humans, but it's always going to linger in that toy's sinuses as a constant reminder of who their owner is and who they have to obey. At least the other wolves won't touch them, not without permission - but their owner might just be more sadistic than any of the others.

Werewolf seed is so virile and overpowering that any human that gets knocked up by a werewolf on the street is definitely going to bear a big litter of pups, probably too big for them to carry around for too long. That's going to hinder their mobility, and probably going to make them a more appealing target to other wolves - that big, round belly is a nice sign of fertility, after all. Never hurts to try putting in another litter, especially with some other human eating out their asshole to keep them nice and hard while they knot the stupid bitch crying underneath them. Maybe the pregnant one should take a turn, too, while the wolf takes a turn to switch places. It's only fair to give both of them the honor of worshipping that juicy knot, after all.

I think you're right. I think humans should be forced to serve werewolves, who are obviously and truly superior. Strength, beauty, genetics - they're regal and powerful creatures, and obviously they're in charge for a reason. That should be how it is. Always.

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: A recent fantasy I've had is just my holes being public property maybe as like a form of legal punishment. Like I commit a crime and now I'm free use for anyone and I can't do anything about it. I must have all my holes accessible at all times so I'm functionally naked 24/7. Especially with declining birth rates. No one is allowed to use a condom and people get paid to cum in my cunt and try to knick me up. Anywhere I go someone can just randomly shove their cock in me. I have to take each request too. Someone wants to piss on/in me? I can't say no. Someone wants to let their dog go for a couple rounds? I have to get on my hands and knees and let the dog knot me. If I do fight it at all or don't listen to orders, I get tied up, fully nude, in a very public place. Maybe a subway station or public park where I've visibly pregnant with a line of people waiting to cum inside of me. Maybe I'm placed in a public bathroom as a urinal. Maybe someone with a bit of governmental power places me in a dog park for a punishment where all the neighborhood dogs knot me again and again and piss on me like a fire hydrant

It's not like the nature of the crime would matter if someone really wanted to punish you, right? Sure, maybe what you did wasn't even that bad, but it's not like you have a choice in the matter as you're sentenced to be a public fucktoy for however many days your sentence is. That'll help with those declining birth rates - doesn't matter if you want to give birth or not, if everybody is cumming in you on a constant basis. You're going to have to do whatever anybody says, and take whatever load is forced into you.

On the very first day, you're already taking load after load in your cunt and ass before lunchtime, and your lunch is interrupted by people cumming into your mouth and onto your food, commanding you to eat it. It's gross, but you have to obey, or else your punishment gets worse - so into your mouth it all goes, swallowed like the rest of it. People start pissing on you next, aiming into your face and eyes. It stings, it smells, and it's miserable, but it's your punishment and you can do nothing about it - you're effectively public property. Public property doesn't complain when it's used like it's meant to be.

You start showing quickly, of course, and the more pregnant you get the more eager people seem to be to fuck you, to add a load to your already-defiled holes. It doesn't matter where you are, when it is, or who else is around you, there's practically always a group of people following you to piss into your asshole, cum on your face, or breed you all over again. Even something as disturbing as peoples' pet dogs, just as eager to get in on the action, are forced upon you, and you have to learn what a knot feels like if you don't want it to get worse.

One day, though, you've had enough - but your protests are met with prompt repercussions.

Now that you're tied up, you're truly helpless against the line of people waiting to take their turn on you. Your cunt and asshole are both gaping, dripping cum and piss, and your mouth isn't much better, drool and seed coating your lips where you couldn't swallow all of it. People regularly jack off onto your exposed body, painting your pregnant belly with lines of cum, making sure that piss dries on your face and hair, every exposed inch used to further debase and objectify you. Maybe one of the higher-ups wants to make sure you know your place, and just ties you up in a convenient position at the dog park - now, not only do you know what a knot feels like, but you know what it feels like to be marked as territory dozens of times in an hour, and you know what it tastes like, and you know how to properly service an animal that's above you.

Maybe you'll learn your lesson this time.

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: Imagine you get kidnapped or something by a shady government organization, and you wake up stuck in a wall, ass and legs out of sight on one side of the wall while your head and torso is on the other. There’s also something else in the room with you - some kind of swarm of tentacles or some other kind of slimy creature. They really, really want to get to the other side of the wall - and there’s only one way through. Your mouth. So they start to force their way past your lips, down your throat, choking you with their girth and their slime… but it does feel a little good, either from some fucked up thing in your brain wanting to be violated or some chemical they’re giving off, you can’t really tell not care. And then you feel something around your leg. There’s more creatures in the other side of the room - and they want to cross, too.

Ooh, this is creative, I like this <3

If this particular branch or organization or what-have-you can't get funding because of the usual government bureaucracy, then they're going to have to resort to shadier methods in order to get what they need, and what they need is a test subject. Unfortunately, I just so happened to get the short end of the stick, and I wake up in a less-than-optimal situation, with one half of my body on one side of a thick wall and the other half isolated from it.

Looking at the creature, it's dark, sludgy. It only looks like a lump of slime, at first, maybe about the size of a crouched person - but peering deeper reveals something squirming, tangling. It gets closer to me, tendrils seeking the base of the wall, and I realize something: it wants to get to the other side. With me blocking the only hole visible, there's clearly only one route for it to take, and there's nothing I can do to resist as it gets closer and closer, reaching out, seeking a path through to the other side. I don't know what the proprietors here are using to motivate it, but it appears motivated indeed, if its urgency is anything to go by.

It explores my upper body, my arms, my face, and then finds what it's looking for. Before I can say anything, before I can even attempt to press my lips together, the thing slides into my mouth, sending a hunk of slime and tendrils across my tongue. I choke and sputter, unprepared, but the slime is undeterred, pressing itself against the back of my throat to force more of itself inside, sliding down into my stomach. Now that it's found a way through, the rest of its body seems eager to join in, climbing up the wall and up my body in order to make its way into my mouth, squirming down my throat to bloat my stomach just like the rest of it. I'm uncomfortably full within minutes, my midsection distended slightly around the uninvited guest, but there's no stopping it - it's not even halfway done.

My eyes roll back in my head as it gets more insistent, parting my throat easily to move more quickly. I can barely sneak in a breath between pulses of slime and writhing appendages, but that's not even the worst of it, because the thing has found the rest of its pathway. My stomach abruptly feels less full, in exchange for the rest of me stretching to accomodate something not meant for the human body. That's what these tests are for - can the human body withstand a monster like this, treating it as nothing but a pathway to its next goal? I suppose I'm here to find out, and to help other people find out. I wonder who might be watching this take place over a hidden camera, taking notes somewhere in another room. Sarcastically, I hope they're enjoying the show.

My midsection distends further as the tentacled thing makes itself perfectly at home, working its way through the maze of my guts, more slime and arms filling my stomach while the rest of it explores my intestines. It takes a few more minutes to make any more progress, but its progress is obvious once it gets there - a burst of slime and fluids, and there are tentacles spilling out of my asshole on the other side of the room, slopping down my legs and regrouping on the floor between my feet. That's what finally makes me moan outright, my toes curling and my muscles tensing because that's all I can do in my bonds, my asshole tightening around the appendages wriggling through it. The creature doesn't like its progress being impeded, and responds by using more force, speeding up its journey through my body.

One particularly stubborn clump of tentacles is what tips me over the edge into cumming, but I can't even moan past the last few portions of sludge filling my mouth. At least the creature is almost done with me, but the rest of it still has to get through before I can consider myself truly out of the woods - and I'm not even all that sure I want it to be done, busy basking in the pleasure from the writhing arms stimulating the walls of my guts, my stomach, my asshole. When my mouth is finally free again, I can moan obscenely, whorishly, and I stop caring who might be looking on for observational data. Who cares what kind of data they're getting from this? Who cares if someone's jacking off to this while they're supposed to be taking notes?

Unfortunately for my tired body, it's not over when the last of the tentacles slides out of my asshole. Another creature on the other side wants to get through just the same as the other one, and it's determined to do so in the exact same way - just in reverse. My asshole, loosened by the slime from the first creature, easily accepts a gooey clump of appendages as it starts making it way up my system, seeking the opposite end, stimulating every nerve ending it can find on the way there. I'm so full, so full, so round and heavy, my belly bloated with something I didn't ask for, things squirming out of my mouth and slopping onto the floor with a wet noise. It makes me cum even harder than the first one did, and by the time it's all the way through, I'm hanging limply from the wall, heaving for breath and drenched in sweat.

Are there more of these creatures? What was the motivation for this test in the first place? What are they? How many people are going to see camera footage of me cumming while my ass is violated by a creature I don't even have a name for?

I don't care about that now. What I care about is getting another one inside of me as quickly as possible.

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: currently thinking about a poor cuntboy getting stranded in an alien jungle and stumbling upon a plant that doesn't enjoy having it's territory invaded and decides this is the perfect opportunity to propagate itself. it strings up the poor lost boy as he struggles, rips through his already tattered and dirty clothes just enough to find his tight cunt, and forces its way in, writhing and pushing as far in as it can get with its slimy excretions coating his insides. the pointed, flared tip forces itself against his cervix before it starts to retract, which is when he unfortunately discovers the sharp spines lining the appendage that drag painfully against his walls before it slams back in against his cervix. the appendage fucks him as he struggles and yells against the pain of its abuse every time it retracts, and he can only cry as his cervix weakens at the increasing force of each thrust. he isn't sure if he should be relieved or terrified when the thing finally breaks through the tight opening of his cervix. it continues to thrust in and out painfully several time and he can feel the flared head pull at his cervix as if it's going to rip through it trying to pull out of him. finally it pushes in one last time and stills inside his womb as his cervix tenses and tries to close around the intrusion. he thinks it must be done as he tries to catch his breath between dry sobs until he feels a sharp stinging stretch inside his womb. in his fucked-out and exhausted state he can hardly comprehend what this thing might be doing to him as the appendage rapidly expands and the flared head unfurls in his womb to lock it in place with the help of tiny spines pushing into the flesh of his cervix. he can feel it pull his cervix open further now that it's securely in place and all he can do is let out cries as he's stretched impossibly wide... i can't decide how I want this story to end so i'll leave it up to your creative discretion ;)

In a situation like that, with his cervix stretched open and his cunt tortured by the spines of that plant, it's no wonder he can only scream and cry. That strange flared head flowering open inside of his womb makes things worse, of course, especially with the way it can anchor itself inside - there's no way he's getting away from this plant anytime soon, nor is there any way he's getting it out of his abused cunt. All he can do is shiver and sob in his bonds as the plant adjusts itself slightly, ensuring that it's seated nice and deep, opening up his womb for its next moves.

A lump, round and smooth, slides from the main body of the plant and down the vine inside of the cuntboy, almost as large as a fist. He whimpers as it presses against his cunt, then yelps when it pops inside; his breathing speeds up when the lump reaches his cervix. He knows what it is now. It's a seedpod, and the plant is using him to assist in the germination process, no matter how brutal it has to be. It presses into his already-weak cervix with more and more force, the pain escalating alongside it until it messily pops inside with a gush of sap. He can feel the hard-shelled thing settle into his womb as another seedpod rolls down the vine, treating him just as harshly as the first, and his womb is already uncomfortably full by the time a third seed joins the first two.

The plant doesn't stop, pumping him full of round, hard-shelled seedpods that scrape together inside of him. The pressure of the seeds makes the pain of the spines worse, of course, and he just sobs as his belly swells, stretching tight over the unclear lumps beneath his skin. There must be at least two dozen inside of him by the time the plant's activity slows to a halt, and he's left breathing shakily, limp and weak.

It's not done with him. The difficulty of unlatching from the boy's womb and cervix makes him cry out all over again, moaning and whimpering in pain as the head again retreats back through his cervix and scrapes against his tender pink walls, but that's nothing compared to what it does next. The alien plant, still unhappy with having its territory encroached upon like that, decides that the trespasser needs more punishment while the seeds inside of him are growing, and promptly enacts that punishment in the form of another spiny appendage invading his asshole, immediately pressing deep into his guts. The boy just whimpers, barely able to react in any other way.

Another vine treats his pisshole similarly, but this one is at least thinner and smoother, sliding up his urethra with barely any effort. He moans when it thickens and stiffens, plugging him up, and then yelps in pain as spines flick out of the head to anchor the thing in place, ensuring maximum discomfort for him as retribution for disturbing the plant's home. Another smooth vine forces its way down his throat and starts pumping him full of a sweet-smelling sap, as though the plant is determined to make sure he's absolutely miserable by the time he's allowed to push out those seedpods.

The textured vine in his guts explores deeper and deeper, occasionally jerking or twitching to press itself into his walls, and the vine in his pisshole gradually thickens at a barely-detectable pace while his bladder fills, courtesy of the vine pumping liquid into his stomach. Meanwhile, his stomach bloats quickly, unable to process fluid as fast as the plant can pump it into him, and the seeds in his womb keep growing in the meantime, making him look even more pregnant than before. All of these factors combined leave the boy twitching and moaning in pain, tortured with a full womb, full guts, full stomach, full bladder.

Finally, the plant seems to have had enough. The vine slides out of his mouth first, and he coughs, fighting for a full breath. Another appendage coils up atop the cuntboy's bloated midsection, and applies pressure; the message is clear. He has to push those seedpods out, or else the plant will have further punishments in store for him.

He groans, and obeys, starting by straining with the first of the bunch. It presses against his cervix from the inside, and the pain of having his abused cervix stretched open all over again makes more tears well up in his eyes. He knows the plant could just do worse to him, if he doesn't perform up to its standards, so he forces himself to fight through the pain in order for the seed to pop out of his womb and slide wetly from his cunt. The next follows much the same, and the next after that is easier, if anything; maybe his body is getting used to it. The plant seems to detect that the cuntboy isn't suffering as much as he should be, and takes the opportunity to start thrusting the vine in his guts, plunging it in and out, making sure those spines are scraping horribly against all of his inner walls. The boy moans, high-pitched and terrified, but continues to bear down anyway.

Four, five, six, seven. Despite the pain, it's getting easier as his cervix learns to give up in the face of his full womb. Eight, nine. His bladder feels close to bursting, and his constant straining doesn't help. Ten, eleven, twelve. Halfway there. Thirteen. Fourteen. As he nears the last handful of pods in this clutch, the vine in his pisshole relaxes. Hope rises in his chest, and his efforts are renewed - maybe the plant will let him finally release, after he gives birth to all of these seedpods. Please, please, please - he doesn't know if the plant can even understand him, but between moaning and crying, he begs it to take the vine out of his urethra and free him.

The plant answers his prayers. With his cervix stretched around the final seedpod, larger than all the others, the vine finally withdraws those spines and yanks itself out of the cuntboy's pisshole. The sheer euphoria of finally being allowed to piss himself and give birth to the last of the seedpods makes him cum, violently, explosively, howling his ecstasy to the jungle. It's pathetic, for him to cum from pissing himself, and he knows that somewhere in his head, but he doesn't care - it just all feels too good for him right now, everything else chased away by relief and pleasure.

Finally, the plant seems to think that it's taught the cuntboy his lesson, and retreats back into the jungle. Shakily, the boy reaches down to feel out the damages - he seems mostly intact, if stinging and sore. And much, much looser than he was at the start. A thrill goes through his chest when he easily slides an entire fist into his ruined cunt.

Maybe he should find another one of those plants sometime.

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: okay but imagine being the property of a magical person or creature who could detach and reattach your body parts at will without causing you any physical damage?  detachable limbs?  having your hands/forearms taken away when you're not allowed to come?  having your head popped off so he can switch between fucking all three of your holes without having to move you around??  being forced to eat your own pussy???  being forced to watch him fucking your throat hole/neck stump instead of deepthroating the normal way?????

Ooh, that's creative~

Being on denial is probably a lot easier to manage if I don't even have any hands to touch myself with, right? Or maybe I wouldn't be allowed to cum unless I managed to fit one of my own hands inside my cunt. It would probably be easier to manage if it was detached, sure, but that would probably just make my owner more determined to make it happen. A fist is hefty to take, but I don't have the excuse of having it still attached to my body. It should be easy enough to shove in, right? Just sit on it, maybe? I can't use it to cum any other way, so it might as well be like this.

The convenience of having all three holes right next to each other shouldn't be ignored, either. With the magical ability to still feel the pleasure of getting my cunt or ass fucked, it would be a simple matter for my owner to interrupt a moan with his cock - my mouth is open, it's right there, and it's warm and wet. What's not to like? Maybe if he thinks my holes are getting too dry, he makes me eat my own cunt, or makes me give him messy oral with a detached head so I drool all over my own asshole to lube it up for him.

I can't imagine the frustration I would feel if my owner simply popped my head off and fucked my neck stump with my head still watching, especially if I was already barred from touching myself (with my arms placed somewhere out of reach, of course). I don't even get the direct sensation of cock sliding across my tongue - I have to deal with the disconnected magical sensation of something lodged in my throat, and the beautiful feeling of hot cum jetting into my mouth is reduced to something dripping down the inside of my neck, past where I would need to swallow. After a certain level of desperation, even oral is better than nothing, but I don't get that luxury while my owner gets to have their own pleasure however they want.

This could make for some fun situations~