:o

AI art 'Fern needs stronger buttons' with user description 'Looks like her magic power is not the only strong thing in the room :)'
9

Fern needs stronger buttons

herlin
AI art "Elise's Big Day"
30

Elise's Big Day

dreamerofdreams
AI art "My favorite waifu is a bunny girl?"
15

My favorite waifu is a bunny girl?

octavian
AI art '1000 Followers - ARE YOU SERIOUS!' with user description 'I actually did it! THANK YOU ALL! I am truly grateful for all the support and love for my work and my characters, especially to Cyndel. Shout out to @peterco, @cef_ultra, @zuzul, @warmicestudios and every single person who commented on my work. Now I wouldn't be me if I didn't make a story out of this so: "They like me, they really like me!" Cyndel took in the adulation of her fans and kissed them. "You deserve this! But the gifts didn't stop there. In recognition of her hard work, the fans finally bought her the car she'd been working for! But does this mean the end of Cyndel's story? "Well, before I was doing it for the ride, but I'm the people's waifu, so I do it for them! This isn't the end of my story - it's just the beginning!" Cheers!'
9

1000 Followers - ARE YOU SERIOUS!

octavian
AI art "2000 ?!?! 🤯😳"
30

2000 ?!?! 🤯😳

zuzul
AI art 'Nagatoro's Casting' with user description 'The Righ train The rhythmic clack of the train tracks was a dull hum against the pounding of my own heart. I was leaning against the cold, vibrating door, my jaw working a piece of grape gum with lazy, rhythmic chews. My eyes were glued to my phone, my thumb swiping through my "private" folder. I was so caught up in admiring my own tan lines and the curves of my unclad body in those mirror selfies that I didn't realize I wasn't alone in my vanity. I was so focused on the screen that I didn't see the shift in the air—the way the tired salarymen around me had stopped looking at their newspapers and started staring at the illicit, glowing heat in my hand. Then, the sound changed. It wasn't just the screech of the rails; it was the frantic, wet sound of friction. My eyes flicked up for a split second, and my heart skipped a beat. All around me, men had their trousers open, their members out and pulsing. They were masturbating right there, eyes locked on my screen, then on me. I felt a surge of genuine panic, my mouth falling open, the grape gum forgotten. I went to scream, but before a sound could escape, a heavy, calloused hand slammed over my mouth. Another hand gripped my breast, squeezing the soft flesh through my white off-the-shoulder ribbed crop top. I struggled, my white Mary Janes scuffing the floor, but then I saw my phone. A man had snatched it. His thumb hovered over the "Post" button on my Facebook. All those photos—the ones that would ruin a "normal" girl—were a millisecond away from being seen by everyone. "If you don't want the whole world to see how much of a little slut you are," he hissed, "you're going to satisfy every man on this train." I froze. A slow, predatory smirk began to spread behind the hand covering my mouth. My panic didn't vanish; it transformed into a wicked realization. "You think I'm scared?" I thought. "This... this was the plan all along. I wanted to see if anyone was bold enough to take what I was showing them." They didn't waste time. They didn't even take off my top; they just yanked the elastic down, exposing my breasts to the stale air. I was forced to my knees, my jaw aching as I took the first man into my mouth. I used every trick I’d ever imagined, swallowing the thick, bitter floods of cum until my eyes rolled back. But that was just the "loading screen." They stood me up, pinning me against the door. They didn't even remove my frayed denim shorts; they just shoved the fabric aside. I felt a thick, leathery cock drive into my pussy, stretching me until I thought I’d break. Then came the anal conquest—a searing, pressurized invasion that made me see stars. My pussy was already red and swollen, leaking their combined seed, but the sensation of being filled from behind while another worked my front was a "Double Penetration" that left me gasping. Eventually, my shorts were shredded and cast aside, leaving me completely open. Two men stepped forward at once, their eyes hungry. They began the "Double Vaginal" assault, both of them forcing their way into my heat at the same time. The pressure was staggering, stretching my walls to their absolute limit. As I writhed under the weight of them, one of my white Mary Janes caught on a man’s leg and popped off, hitting the floor with a dull thud. I was left with one foot bare, my toes curling as they hammered into me. As the train pulled into a station, I was pressed hard against the glass. People on the platform stared in shock, watching the "innocent" girl in the white crop top being relentlessly fucked by a rotating line of men. More men pushed into the car, drawn by the sight of my public ruin. I was a mess of sweat, saliva, and white stains. By the time the train reached the final stop, I was slumped on a train seat, my legs spread wide and my pussy overflowing with a thick, white soup of cum that dripped onto the cushion. My skin was flushed, and I was completely spent. I watched, breathless, as the man with my phone finally hit "Post." My nakedness was now public, trending for the whole world to see. I didn't cry. I didn't hide. I just leaned back against the seat and smiled, a dark, triumphant glint in my eyes. I wasn't ruined; I was a star. The notifications were already starting to pour in, a symphony of digital attention. This was the debut I had always wanted—the "Ultimate Senpai" had just become the most famous girl on the internet.'
21

Nagatoro's Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Anne: u up?"
20

Anne: u up?

onlyyouprod
AI art "Chapter 4: “Face to face”"
30

Chapter 4: “Face to face”

warmicestudios
AI art "CHAPTER 2: “A new poison in town”"
30

CHAPTER 2: “A new poison in town”

warmicestudios
AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 5"
24

Cyndel Vale needs money 5

octavian
AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 7"
20

Cyndel Vale needs money 7

octavian
AI art "Anime House episode 1"
11

Anime House episode 1

octavian
AI art "More Fire Emblem Girls 3"
29

More Fire Emblem Girls 3

onlyyouprod
AI art "Marin hot summer"
30

Marin hot summer

zuzul
AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)"
21

Cyndel Vale needs money (Remastered)

octavian
AI art 'Pillow Princesses 3 (Poke Girls)' with user description 'Gotta catch 'em all?'
25

Pillow Princesses 3 (Poke Girls)

usagi77
AI art '🥳 @zuzul's 2000 followers' with user description 'Congratulations on your 2000 followers, buddy. You did it! 🎉🎉🎉 I love you (in the most hetero and collegial way pawssible), your work, your art, your creativity, skills, imagination, artistry, and your passion 🥹 P.S.: Enjoy your 2000 kittens while you can, they were hard to get together and will be even harder to keep them like this 😺 But that last one will stay till the end for sure 😻'
16

🥳 @zuzul's 2000 followers

peterco
AI art "Thank you for your service!"
8

Thank you for your service!

octavian
AI art
22

Senza titolo

chainny
AI art 'Mahiru Casting' with user description 'The tropical humidity of Jabberwock Island was suffocating as Mahiru Koizumi stood in the shadow of the Monokuma Rock. Across from her, Junko Enoshima leaned back against a jagged stone, her eyes dancing with a manic, bored hunger. She wasn't just a participant in the game; she was the architect, the voice behind the bear, and the one holding Mahiru’s entire past in her hands. "You're so responsible, Mahiru-chan," Junko drawled, tossing a thick folder of Mahiru’s childhood photos—the only ones left of her late mother—over a small fire pit. "But being 'big sister' is just a mask for how much you fear being used. I don't need to tell Monokuma anything. I *am* the despair you're running from. If you want these memories back before they turn to ash, you’re going to give me a show that proves you’re nothing more than a fleshy prop." Junko reached into a bag and tossed a garment at Mahiru’s feet. It was a transparent, mesh-string bikini that offered zero coverage, meant only to highlight every inch of her skin. "Put it on. We’re going to the beach, and I’ve invited fifty 'Islander NPCs' who are very, very hungry for a freckled little toy." The negotiation was a slaughter. Mahiru, desperate to save the only link to her mother, stepped into the water under the pale moon, her body fully visible through the clear fabric. The fifty men were already there, a wall of shadowed, silent muscle. As soon as she stepped onto the sand, she was swarmed. The ordeal was a masterpiece of sensory destruction. Mahiru was immediately seized, dozens of hands grabbing and gropping her freckled body, their fingers digging into her pale skin as they fought for a piece of her. The transparent bikini was a cruel joke, drawing their eyes to exactly where they intended to invade. "Please... there's so many of you..." Mahiru’s plea was cut short as a man forced himself into her mouth, gagging her with his girth. It was a systematic hollowing. At any given moment, she was being filled by three men—one in her mouth, one in her pussy, and one stretching her anal passage to its absolute limit. The scale was staggering. As each man finished, he was instantly replaced. Mahiru was a communal vessel, a raw, aching piece of meat being processed by a relentless assembly line. The men gropped her breasts and thighs, their rough palms reddening her freckled skin until she was a map of their collective greed. By the fourth hour, the "responsible" girl was gone. In her place was a sobbing, arching mess. The friction of the sand and the relentless, heavy-caliber intrusions turned her core into a throbbing, distended void. She felt the rhythmic, animalistic thud of fifty men’s lust, her anatomy forced to accommodate diameters it was never meant to house. The bukkake sessions were the final insult; every few minutes, a group would surround her, drenching her face and her transparent bikini in a cooling, white deluge that blinded her. She was a living monument to submission, a "Big Sister" reduced to a leaking orifice. When dawn broke, the men vanished, leaving Mahiru collapsed on the shoreline. Her legs trembled violently, and her core felt like an empty, ruined hall, her body permanently loosened and inflamed. Junko stepped onto the sand, her heels sinking into the grit. She looked down at Mahiru—covered in filth, her freckled body bruised and leaking, the transparent bikini ruined and hanging off one hip—and let out a delighted, jagged laugh. "Wow, Mahiru! You really are just a hole after all!" Junko giggled, tossing the folder of photos onto the sand. "You look so *despair-inducing*! I love how the 'Ultimate Photographer' ended up as the 'Ultimate Beach Whore.' Seeing fifty men use you like a public utility was the highlight of my week!" Mahiru reached for the photos with a shaky hand, her voice a hollow, broken rasp. "I... I have her back." She looked at the ocean, the evidence of fifty men leaking from her ravaged body and staining the pristine sand. "I thought I captured the world... but tonight, the world finally captured me. I’m not a sister anymore. I’m just a hole the island used and discarded."'
22

Mahiru Casting

blackhairedstudent
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