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one eye covered

one eye covered

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1girlbreastsblushlarge breastslong hairsololooking at viewernippleshair over one eyesweatjewelryuncensoredsmileearringsthighscollarbonenavelindoorsclosed mouthnudeheteroblue eyesblonde hair1boypussyopen mouthpenisshort hairbare shouldersass
AI art "Some random prompts"
28

Some random prompts

octavian
AI art 'Himeno'
6

Himeno

murcie
AI art 'Quanxi'
6

Quanxi

murcie
AI art "Rosalina's Lap Pillow"
6

Rosalina's Lap Pillow

terror2
AI art 'Yor casting' with user description 'The evening air in the Forger apartment was heavy with the scent of herbal tea and the ticking of the wall clock. Yor sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, her fingers trembling as they traced the delicate floral pattern of her porcelain cup. She had been staring into the dark amber liquid for several minutes, her mind caught in the violent, messy transition between the "Thorn Princess" and the submissive wife of a psychiatrist. Finally, she took a shaky breath and looked toward Loid, who was reading a newspaper with his usual stoic composure. "Loid," she started, her voice a soft, nervous whisper that barely carried across the room. "There is something I’ve been keeping from you. Regarding the 'city hall' assignment that kept me out all night... the kidnapping. I haven't told you the full story of what happened in that warehouse." Loid set his newspaper down, his professional 'Twilight' mask immediately softening into that of the concerned, supportive husband. "You can tell me anything, Yor. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone." "I was undercover, tracking a ring of extremely dangerous men—a gang of rapists and human traffickers," Yor began, her eyes distant as she drifted back to the cold, damp concrete of the docks. "I allowed them to take me. It was the only way to find their base. When I woke up, I was in their warehouse, stripped of my dignity and suspended by my neck with a heavy silk cord. My toes could barely touch the floor, and every breath was a struggle. The leader—a man with cold, hungry eyes—was laughing. He kept saying how lucky they were to have caught someone so beautiful and 'innocent' like me." She took a sharp breath, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the tea cup. "Because I was suspended and the cord was tied to a pressure-sensitive alarm, I couldn't use my strength to break free without revealing my skills and alerting the rest of the gang before the setup was ready. I had to endure it, Loid. They were relentless. They took turns, using my body in every way imaginable—orally, vaginally, and anal. They treated me like a mindless toy, laughing and mocking me while I was forced to hang there, struggling for air while they hammered into me. It was... intense. I felt every moment of it, the heat, the friction, and the sheer weight of their depravity." Loid remained remarkably calm, his expression unreadable, though he reached out to place a reassuring hand on her knee. "But it was a trap," Yor continued, a flicker of her 'Thorn Princess' steel returning to her gaze. "I had hidden a high-frequency locator deep inside my anus before the capture. I knew they would search my clothes and even my mouth, but they never checked there. The police arrived just as the leader was finishing his second turn. They were all arrested and sent to the high-security black site. My superiors told me... they won't be coming out alive. They are to be executed for their crimes against the state." Yor looked at him, her face flushing a deep, painful crimson. "I'm so sorry, Loid. I had to let them do those things for the sake of the mission. I feel so ashamed as your wife, having been touched by such monsters." Loid reached out, gently taking her hand and squeezing it firmly. "Yor, look at me. It’s okay. In this line of work—in high-stakes security and intelligence—sometimes the mission demands a physical sacrifice. You did what you had to do to catch those monsters and save countless other women from their fate. I don't judge you for it. In fact, I admire your commitment to the job." Yor blinked, surprised by his easy, almost clinical acceptance of her ordeal. "In fact," Loid said, his voice dropping slightly as he leaned back into the sofa, "if I’m being honest, I’ve had to do the same many times before we ever met. During my long-term assignments abroad, specifically in the years before I moved to Berlint, I had to sleep with and seduce almost every target's wife to get the intel the agency needed. It was a standard protocol for deep-cover operations. It was just a tool, Yor. A means to an end. It doesn't mean anything beyond the objective." Yor’s eyes widened, her grip on her tea cup tightening until the porcelain groaned with a sharp *crick*. The soft, domestic atmosphere of the room shifted instantly. A dark, swirling aura of murderous jealousy began to radiate from her, though she kept her polite, practiced smile fixed on her face. Her pupils contracted into tiny points of red-hot focus. "Oh?" Yor whispered, her voice trembling with a different kind of intensity than before. "Almost *every* target’s wife, Loid? And that was all... 'before we met'? I see... I suppose we both have a lot of very interesting 'work' history to discuss in much more detail later tonight."'
22

Yor casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Rosalina Casting' with user description 'The campfire crackled softly between them, casting flickering orange shadows against the ancient ruins where they had made camp. Frieren was focused on a tattered grimoire, searching for a spell that supposedly removed moss from stone. Fern sat opposite her, fastidiously polishing her staff. After a long silence, she looked up, her expression as stoic as ever. "Mistress Frieren," Fern began, her voice clinical. "Do you remember the 'Church of the Eternal Font' we passed near the Auberst border? They offered a trial for mana expansion." Frieren didn't look up. "Mana is built through decades of study, Fern. Gimmicks are useless." "It wasn't a gimmick," Fern countered. "They told me that if a mage could remain in continuous, focused prayer for exactly three hours, their mana capacity would permanently expand. But there was a catch—the 'Testing of the Flesh.' The priests were permitted to do anything to break my concentration, provided they didn't use violence or magic." Frieren finally closed her book, curious. "And you accepted?" "I wanted to be stronger for you," Fern replied. "So, I entered the sanctum, knelt on the cold marble, and began the chant." Fern took a deep breath, her hands tightening on her staff. She began to describe the ordeal with a detached, rhythmic cadence. "The first hour was psychological, but then they began to touch. They removed my boots and used their tongues and soft feathers to lick and tickle my feet. It was an agonizing sensation, but I did not move. When they realized my spirit was firm, they became invasive. They stripped my robes. One priest knelt before me, forcing his member into my mouth for a deepthroat so intense I was gagging, my eyes watering from the pressure. I kept the prayer vibrating in my chest, even as he finished, his seed coating the back of my throat." Fern’s voice remained flat, despite the harrowing detail. "Then came the physical intrusion. I was pushed onto my hands and knees. One priest entered me from behind while another took my front—a double penetration that felt like I was being torn apart. They were relentless, using their fingers to stimulate me while hammering into my body, trying to force a scream from my lips. They used my body as a vessel for their lust. Licking every inch of my skin, biting my ears, and eventually, several gathered for a bukkake. I felt the warm, sticky weight of their release hitting my face and hair. They even used my anal passage, a searing intrusion that made my breath hitch. But I remembered your lessons. I treated the sensations as nothing more than external noise." Fern looked Frieren directly in the eyes. "For three hours, I was a statue. When the final bell chimed, they stopped. I stood up, cleaned myself with a cantrip, and walked out." "And?" Frieren asked softly. "I felt it," Fern said, a small ghost of a smile appearing. "A violent expansion. My mana capacity is significantly larger now. It was the most difficult training I have ever endured." Frieren was quiet for a long time. Then, she reached out and patted Fern’s head with clumsy affection. "You really are a pervert about magic, Fern," Frieren said with a hint of pride. "To go that far just for power... you’re starting to remind me of Master Flamme." Fern huffed, her familiar pout returning. "It was a calculated decision, Mistress Frieren." "If you say so," Frieren murmured, reopening her book. "But next time, ask me. I have a spell for mana growth that involves bitter herbs. It’s much less... messy." "Now you tell me," Fern muttered, returning to her polishing as the secret finally settled in the quiet night air.'
20

Rosalina Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Pokemon Easter Eggs"
30

Pokemon Easter Eggs

terror2
AI art "Fischl"
20

Fischl

steven1599
AI art 'Beidou'
2

Beidou

murcie
AI art "Attempts at Picture-in-Picture, Nemona & Gardevoir"
10

Attempts at Picture-in-Picture, Nemona & Gardevoir

pokemon_maniac
AI art
19

Sin título

iiyama6122
AI art "Rosalina's paizuri"
7

Rosalina's paizuri

zuzul
AI art "Rosalina Captured"
5

Rosalina Captured

zerogroupe21
AI art "Akari's Surprise Sex"
15

Akari's Surprise Sex

pokemon_maniac
Rosaline need some company

Rosaline need some company

sjame83
AI art "Wiz"
8

Wiz

livinwe
AI art 'Choose Your Own Adventure: Lady of the Woods 3C' with user description '<This post continues from part 2B “Help the fairy” decision > Your empathy gets the better of you and you rush to the aid of the entangled fairy. Up close, she looks even frailer. Weak and soft, no muscle to speak of. The vines however seem thick and full of life. She wouldn’t stand a chance without your help. It takes some effort, but you manage to untangle her legs. The vines are slick and hard to grab, which makes you wonder how they manage to cling so tightly to the fairy’s body. But there’s no time to wonder as it takes constant effort to keep the vines from re-wrapping themselves around her. You pull the fairy to her legs and help her stand. Her cries for help have stopped. She seems to be in shock, unresponsive and wide-eyed. You try to reassure her that you will free her. She nods weakly and you resume your efforts. But the vines that entangle her torso are wrapped even more tightly. They squeeze her chest with such force that you wonder how she can breathe. It’s a miracle she could cry for help at all. You pull her closer to try and free her hands. “Help me!” She exclaims weakly, the same as she had before. You try to reassure her again, but she just repeats her cry for help. Repeats it a little too closely. The fairy is close to you now. Close enough that you could kiss her. Her eyes stare back up into yours. There was light in them, but it was… wrong, somehow. Then the light in her eyes shifted, like water sloshing in a tube. Her head tilted limply, her eyes taking on the likeness of dull empty glass vessels. Her mouth formed into a smile, almost, but it wasn’t a real smile. It was simply her face loosing its animating force and the skin going slack. Your shock fades quickly and you try to turn and leave only to find your legs hopelessly entangled in the vines. You try to pull them off, but they are much, much stronger now. They are no longer slick, but they cling to your clothing like glue. The vines climb your body eagerly, not strangling you, but holding you perfectly still, bound up like a straight jacket. You can only watch as plants emerge from the fairy’s lifeless body. Flowers poking through her mouth and her eye socket like they are watching you closely. The vines lift her off the ground as a vicious yellow slime begins to drip from her mouth. It smells like honey, but the vapors singe your nostrils and your throat like acid. The vines do not relent. They squeeze and twist the fairy’s body like juicing a fruit. More and more of the honey like acid pools near your feet and it writhes with life. You realize, now far too late, that the slime is the real creature and you have fallen prey to its hunting tactic. “I warned you, didn’t l?” The lady’s voice said from behind you. It takes all your effort to twist far enough around to look at her. Her voice had filled you with sudden hope. Was she here to save you? It took only a single look at the expression on her face to know the answer. The lady looked back at you with disappointment. No, something more than that. Her eyes seemed to glow in the dark and her frown was so deep and stern that it seemed to cut through to your soul. “You got my hopes up, really. I told you that you were wise for not trusting appearances. I told you that these Woods were hungry. And yet you walk into a trap regardless .” You try to ask for help, but if anything her expression somehow worsens. “I will not deprive the Woods of its food. We understand each other, the Woods and I. We have an accord. You could have been a part of that. But it seems you are fit only to join the Woods in a more primal way.” You try to plea, to argue your case. But she doesn’t speak another word. Nor does she leave you. For better or worse, she stays by your side watching until the vines strangle you and the slime melts your down to your bones. < Ending B - Part of the Food Chain >'
16

Choose Your Own Adventure: Lady of the Woods 3C

usagi77
AI art 'Do you like stockings?' with user description 'Maybe it's just me, but there's something sexy about a girl in stockings. So here's eight of my best girls showing them off. Enjoy.'
16

Do you like stockings?

octavian
AI art "Ideas for a new character?"
3

Ideas for a new character?

wesley33
AI art 'Rosalina is Perfect'
4

Rosalina is Perfect

blackhairedstudent
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+6
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