#kinkart

[rottanromanz]

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No thought only gargoyle Guts <3

Love a stuffed Brooklyn being an embarrassed idiot knowing he is sick but in denial. Ok tough guy~ ;b

Love these wholesome scenarios ~

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[sombre-boy]

[FR] Voici un petit dessin bonus que j'avais réalisé pour le Kinktober de 2022, mais que je n'avais pas pour finir à l'époque. J'espère que ce petit dessin, sur les thèmes du Shibari et de la Chasteté, vous plaira ! 😈 / [EN] Here's a little bonus drawing that I made for Kinktober 2022, but that I didn't have to finish at the time. I hope you like this little drawing, on the themes of Shibari and Chastity ! 😈

[rottanromanz]

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Mhm G@rg0yle Gut😵‍💫!?! Go brrr °. ‘

can imagine a bunch of new human foods could definitely upset a tummy that’s not so used to it >:b

Oh come on you guys knew this would happen sooner. 30 year old fandom and the lack of weird wholesome art like this it’s a huge suprise. Especially for a scalie twink. What yall doin? Ok. So I happen to (probably not) be the first

I have a lot to play around with scenarios. I couldn’t decide at first. Might make some other scenarios eventually.

[kazieka]

the sheer number of tumble users who pay IRL money to blaze badly generated ai niche fetish art will never cease to amaze me

[intelligentphonefantasy-blog]

The amazing @dirkhooper created this artwork for Prissy, Mistress Constance’s sissy pet! wow, the look on sissy’s face is SPOT ON, I’ve seen it in sessions! I beleive he is booking new commissions now, reach out and ask! 

[weaselbeaselpants]

Saw people trying to compare Gooseworx's old inflation kinkart to Rebecca Sugar and VivziePop's questionable underr@ge nsfw and just...no. No, that is not comparable.

I'm (apparently) antishipping trash who *hates sex and sexuality because I'm ace or something* and just- inflation/guro/vore/feet/bondage/mouth/outfit/weight gain/ect fetishes are just no where near the realm of nope that stuff involving minors is and it's stupid I even have to point that out.

Every one of the, what I call "deviantart kinks", can be used in 'bad faith' so to speak. You can be into humble monsterfugging and consensual ships and still be a sex pest. That's just what you get when you cross people's friskybizz with their fandombizz. People go too far A LOT. But the reason we have most of this proshipper/antishipper discourse at all is because not all kinks and sexual interests are created equally as is the media and kind of audiences who participate in it. There just are some fetishes that aren't negotiable because they cross that line into distinct paraphilia that inherently hurts people.

In the case of Rebecca and Viv, I really do think they're not into that and just should have thought that shit out better and didn't when they made the art in question. It was still on them for drawing that and it's gonna haunt those two women their entire careers because we should be recognizing and scrutinizing artwork that does that.

[jamieroxxartist]

A Custom, #Commissioned #Painting I painted a few years ago

‘Gagged on a Tuesday’

2008, acrylic and oil blend on canvas, 30"x30" by @ArtistJamieRoxx #JamieRoxx ( www.JamieRoxx.us ) This Sold Painting Is Not Available.

#PopArt #Portrait #EroticArt #BDSM #KinkArt

[dapheeder]

Sweet-time Valentine Part 2!

[fascinationuniformed]

SuperTetas

Prometí más contenido en español, así que aquí estamos.

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If you’d like to Support Me, you can Donate on Patreon.

I also sell Kinky Comics!

And Art Prints.

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For more of my writing and illustrations, do visit

My website | My Twitter | Pixiv | DeviantArt | Gumroad | Picarto

[peachpeachplumb]

Fat Parade Chapter 2

The questions continued for a few months after the last show. Why had Juliet is Dead broken up? Was emo over? What would Ebony Styles do next?

As the former frontwoman, Ebony received the brunt of the questioning, to the degree that she imagined Willow would be getting jealous. Ebony wouldn’t know if that was the case though; she hadn’t spoken to either of her old bandmates since they split. It wasn’t that she hated them, not at all, it was that she couldn’t face them. They were her best friends and she’d hurt them, possibly ruined their lives and careers, and for what? A feeling. A hunch. A vague, egocentric sense of ennui.

And the worst part was, Ebony had no idea what she’d do next. She didn’t at the time, and she didn’t now, two years later. Back then, it was because the very idea of a future without Juliet is Dead was too much to contemplate. Now that she was living in that future, she couldn’t ever conceive of anything changing. The world she knew was dead, tossed into the trash-heap of history alongside the iPod and the Motorola Razr. In it’s place was a new world, a strange and terrifying land of Kardashians and Klout, of Chris Brown and Kesha, and Ebony knew she had no place in it. She couldn’t bring herself to hate it; it was not her place to hate it, to deny a generation their rightful place. She’d grown up on Douglas Coupland, she knew how selfish that would be. And yet, she resented it. She wanted to hate it. And for that she hated herself.

And so, Ebony turned to her favourite vice: food. It started innocuously enough; just the odd chocolate bar, just something to keep her sane through all the interviews and talk show appearances. But then the interviews and the talk show appearances vanished altogether and the press moved on, and Ebony was suddenly faced with more free time than she knew what to do with. So she did what she always did whenever she didn’t know what to do: she ate. And ate. And ate. Hour-long binges, first weekly then daily, and getting bigger and bigger, constantly…

And they weren’t the only things getting bigger.

In just five weeks since her last show, Ebony had gained twelve pounds. Twelve! In a month! Admittedly her breasts had taken the brunt of the gain and she wasn’t about to complain about that, but her ass had swollen too, and was now teetering on the precipice between alluringly large and disgustingly flabby. What little definition her arms had had completely vanished now, replaced with softness and the slightest of jiggles. Worst of all, her old arch-nemesis was starting to rear its ugly head once again. Slowly but surely, her flat middle had gotten fluffier and fluffier, to the point where Ebony’s famously hourglass-shaped figure now more closely resembled a grandfather clock, tall, broad and almost completely straight. The only curve Ebony had now was the curve of her new tummy, which stuck out a few inches no matter which pants she wore. It didn’t outstretch her tits, and Ebony knew she should’ve been grateful for that, but she couldn’t be.

After all, the longer her belly took to outstretch her breasts, the longer she’d be dreading it for.

It was inevitable: her tiny tummy would transform into a big fleshy belly, a quivering, gelatinous mound of fat, and Ebony would become enormous once again. Her shape would shift from that of a grandfather clock to that of a wall-mounted one: big, wide and completely spherical. Ebony spent every moment in fear of the fat she knew would be arriving on her frame, and that fear, that anxiety, overwhelmed her. So she’d eat to try and distract herself, to try to numb the pain with grease and sugar. It never worked, not even the tastiest treats could block out her self-loathing for more than a few seconds, and when she’d finish and realise how much she’d eaten she’d only hate herself more. Which made her want to eat again...

Ebony knew her days as a sex symbol, a role-model, a hero, were far behind her now; today’s teens probably didn’t even know her name. Soon, she’d be a staple of sneering gossip mags and where-are-they-now type shows with savagely sarcastic narrators. Soon, she’d be Ten-Ton Tara once again. It wasn’t so much tragic as it was sinful.

And yet, despite all this, Ebony regretted nothing. She had done nothing to regret, nothing at all. This had all happened around her, and she had just stood there, motionless, as if watching the sun cool.

Part two of the collab with @justanotherworthlesswierdo