921
suspension

suspension

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breasts1girlblushnippleslong hairrestrainedbounduncensorednudelarge breastsbdsmpussybondagesweatheterosolo focuscompletely nudenavelsolopenisblack hairopen mouthassthighsspread legsropevaginallooking at viewersexindoors
AI art "Restrained kitty"
12

Restrained kitty

zuzul
AI art

Sans titre

lukeeees1
AI art "[Request] Weekend Getaway with Michelle"
30

[Request] Weekend Getaway with Michelle

dreamerofdreams
AI art "Rosalina's bondage"
11

Rosalina's bondage

zuzul
AI art '🌟100th POST SPECIAL COMPILATION🌟' with user description 'HEEEEEEEELLO GUYS 🌟🌟🌟🌟 THIS IS MY 100th POST!!! For this special occasion i made a compilation with some of my favorite posts i made along the way! You can find here all yours (and mine) favourites and most iconic waifus! ❤️​ Nakano Miku, Raphtalia, Nagatoro, May, Frieren, Fern, Boa Hancock, Jasmine, Hinata, Asui, Toph and many more! Thank you guys for always supporting me i hope you will keep enjoy my content everyday ❤️​ Please share some love in the comment section of this post ❤️​'
30

🌟100th POST SPECIAL COMPILATION🌟

herlin
AI art "Chel collection"
25

Chel collection

owyerd
AI art "Yor casting"
22

Yor casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Hiyoko Casting' with user description 'The fluorescent lights of the terminal hummed with a sterile, soul-crushing boredom that I absolutely adored. I adjusted my sunglasses, my fingers drumming against the handle of a vibrant green suitcase. It was heavy—unusually heavy for a carry-on—but I pulled it with a skip in my step. Inside, tucked away like a precious, foul-mouthed doll, was Hiyoko Saionji. The flight was a blur of despair-filled anticipation. By the time I reached the humid, nameless country and navigated the back alleys to the rendezvous point—a derelict warehouse smelling of salt and rot—my skin was tingling. A group of men stood there, the kind of bottom-feeders that society tries to pretend don't exist. Sexual offenders, outcasts, the worst of the worst. Perfect. "You brought the package?" the leader grunted, eyeing the green case. "Oh, better than that," I purred, dropping to my knees. "I brought an appetizer." I didn't waste time. I moved from one man to the next, my hands and mouth working with a manic, despair-inducing precision. I did fellatio on every single member of the gang, watching their eyes glaze over with a mix of lust and confusion. I wanted them primed. I wanted them hungry. I wanted their blood pumping and their primal instincts screaming for the main course. By the time I stood up, wiping my lip with a wicked grin, the room was thick with the scent of musk and anticipation. "Enjoy the dessert," I giggled, blowing them a kiss as I stepped out into the night, leaving the suitcase behind. ### Hiyoko’s POV The world was dark, cramped, and cold. I had been curled in that suitcase for hours, completely naked, my skin pressed against the hard lining. I could hear the muffled sounds of Junko’s voice, the wet, rhythmic noises of her "service," and then... a final, chilling silence. The suitcase tipped over with a thud. The zipper rasped, a jagged line of light cutting through my dark prison. The lid flipped open. I blinked against the harsh glare of a single hanging bulb. I didn't reach for anything to cover myself—I didn't have anything. I was exposed, vulnerable, and exactly where I wanted to be. Surrounding me was a wall of men—rough, scarred, and completely aroused. I looked up from my position on the floor and saw a forest of penises, angry and engorged, hovering just inches from my face. My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild, rhythmic drumming that echoed in my ears. They didn't waste a second. Rough hands hauled my naked body out of the case. They moved with a practiced, brutal efficiency, binding my bare limbs in intricate BDSM ropes. The coarse hemp bit into my soft, unprotected skin, pulling me taut until my back arched and my body was displayed like a piece of meat on a hook. "Look at this little thing," one of them hissed, his hand calloused as it roamed over my stomach. "She's been waiting for us." Then, the onslaught began. Because I was already naked, there was no barrier, no delay. They used me in every way possible—orally, vaginally, and anal. I was a vessel for their collective depravity. The friction was relentless, the weight of their massive bodies crushing the air from my lungs. I was gagged, my cries muffled as they took turns, sometimes two or three at once, filling every available space I had. The humiliation was absolute; the physical sensation was an overwhelming tide of heat and pressure that made my vision swim. But as a thick, hot wave of their release coated my bare skin and filled my throat, a thought flickered through the haze of my mind. Junko thought she was breaking me. She thought she was throwing me into the pit of despair by selling my naked, helpless body to these monsters. But as I felt the rough rope burn against my thighs and the sheer power of these men tearing into me, I couldn't help the secret, internal thrill. This was exactly what I had asked for. I had been the one to whisper the idea to Junko weeks ago, feigning fear while planting the seed of this "betrayal." The kidnapping, the suitcase, the naked delivery—it was all my design. Every sting of the rope and every monstrous stretch was a fulfillment of the one fetish I could never tell the other Ultimates about. As the leader gripped my hair and forced me down once more, I didn't feel despair. I felt a twisted, ecstatic sense of victory.'
22

Hiyoko Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Haunted House"
23

Haunted House

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Fischl"
20

Fischl

steven1599
AI art
24

Sans titre

traders
AI art 'Hot witches r us' for prompt: '1girl, witch, massive sagging breasts, thick, very long black hair, detailed eyes, orgasm, (freckles), pale skin, rope bound wrists, bondage, torn witch robes, exposed nipples, small pierced nipples,ass first view, exposed vagina, torn bra, looking at viewer, witch hat, hanging from ceiling, sweat drenched body, used up cum dumpster,old cabin, anime style, dim light, bottom accent lighting, beautiful eyes'
10

Hot witches r us

norsedemonlord
AI art 'Mukuro Casting' with user description 'The air in the bedroom was cloying, smelling of strawberry-scented air freshener and old, festering grief. Mukuro Ikusaba lay on a frilly, pink duvet, her limbs as heavy as lead. She had been captured during a routine sweep; she hadn't expected a localized EMP trap and a high-grade neurotoxin dart hidden in a common mailbox. It was a sloppy mistake for the Ultimate Soldier, but even she hadn't accounted for the suicidal desperation of a man with nothing left to lose. The father stood over her, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with a terrifying, manic hope. Beside him stood his son, who looked at Mukuro with a mixture of loathing and hollow obedience. "This was my daughter’s room," the father whispered, gesturing to the stuffed animals lining the shelves. "She died in the blast you set. You erased her future. So, you’re going to give it back. You’re going to stay in this room, and you’re going to give me another daughter. You’ll stay alive until she’s born and celebrates her first birthday. Until then, you’re just a vessel." He leaned down, his voice trembling. "I’ve given you a high-dose muscular relaxant. You can’t fight. You’ll feel every moment of what comes next, but you won't be able to lift a finger to stop us." For nine months, the pink room became a sensory prison. Mukuro lived in a state of chemical paralysis, her body forced to endure the relentless, grief-fueled assaults of the father and the quiet, bitter turns taken by the son. She watched her own body change, her abdomen swelling with a life she never asked for. Even as her belly became a massive, taut curve that made every breath a struggle, they didn't stop. They treated her like a communal womb, their lust fueled by the twisted logic of replacing the dead. The father’s face was a mask of jagged, weeping lines as he leaned over Mukuro’s paralyzed form during the final weeks of her confinement. He didn’t touch her with lust; he touched her with a cold, possessive resentment, his hand pressing firmly against her distended navel. "How many, Mukuro?" he whispered, his breath smelling of bitter coffee and despair. "How many children were in that elementary school when you triggered the blast? Did you hear them? Did you hear the sound of the future being snuffed out in a single second? My daughter had a lead role in the spring play. She was supposed to be a princess. Now she's just ash in a jar on my mantel." Mukuro’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling, the muscular relaxant keeping her a silent witness to his breakdown. "You think this is a punishment?" the father continued, his voice cracking as he unbuckled his belt for the sixth time that day. "This is a mercy. You killed a world, so I’m making you build a new one. But don't think for a second that this makes us even. You deserve worse than this. You deserve to be used until your bones turn to dust. You deserve to be nothing more than a hole that never closes, a vessel that never empties. Every time my son and I take turns on you, I imagine I’m reclaiming a piece of the life you stole." He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "My son hates you even more than I do. He doesn't see a girl; he sees the monster that took his sister. When he's inside you, he isn't looking for pleasure. He's looking for revenge. And I’m going to make sure he gets it, every single day, until that baby girl is born and we finally have our family back." Then, the door didn't open for a feeding—it exploded. Junko Enoshima stepped over the charred remains of the father and son, her heels clicking on the pink carpet. She looked down at Mukuro, who lay there with her nine-month belly exposed, her eyes tracking her sister with a flicker of recognition. "Hey, Sis! Wow, look at you," Junko chirped, poking Mukuro’s stomach with a manicured finger. "You’ve really grown into the role of 'Traumatized Broodmother.' It’s such a look! I was actually going to bust you out on day one, you know? But then I heard that guy’s plan through the hidden mics, and I thought it would be just *delicious* to be an auntie!" Mukuro’s voice was a dry, unused rasp as the relaxant finally began to wear off. "You... you could have saved me months ago. After I got pregnant... why did you wait?" Junko let out a high-pitched laugh. "Oh, Mukuro! I was just dying to see how long that man's despair could actually last! I mean, watching him try to replace a dead kid with a new one while staying totally obsessed with using you? Pure art! I had to see the limit of his desperation. He really leaned into that whole 'you deserve worse' angle—it was so dramatic, so cliché, so *perfectly* despair-inducing!" She leaned in, a mischievous smirk on her face. "Besides, I figured your pussy must be absolutely legendary for them to keep coming back for more! I mean, they fucked you more than five times every single day for nine months straight! That’s over thirteen hundred sessions, Sis! If your pussy is that tasty, I couldn't just cut the 'buffet' line short, right?'
20

Mukuro Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Poison Ivy loses control"
6

Poison Ivy loses control

zerogroupe21
AI art "tentacle pleasure"
19

tentacle pleasure

remega
AI art 'Chapter #02 "GAMES OF MORPHEUS". Selin. part 5.'
10

Chapter #02 "GAMES OF MORPHEUS". Selin. part 5.

dreamwalker
AI art
20

Sans titre

nonotnowc
AI art 'Chapter #02 "GAMES OF MORPHEUS". Mila. part 12.'
10

Chapter #02 "GAMES OF MORPHEUS". Mila. part 12.

dreamwalker
AI art 'Chapter #02 "GAMES OF MORPHEUS". Kless. part 20.'
10

Chapter #02 "GAMES OF MORPHEUS". Kless. part 20.

dreamwalker
AI art
5

Sans titre

damascal
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