public indecency

AI art "Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings on the subway."

30

Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings on the subway.

AI art "CHAPTER 3: “Getting the Pearl Thong”"

26

CHAPTER 3: “Getting the Pearl Thong”

AI art "Anime's best Blonde Bombshell"

20

Anime's best Blonde Bombshell

AI art "In hurry"

2

In hurry

AI art "Trench Coat"

13

Trench Coat

AI art "Chapter 4: “Face to face”"

30

Chapter 4: “Face to face”

AI art "Scrap Metal Hunter"

13

Scrap Metal Hunter

AI art "Walkies with Anya"

30

Walkies with Anya

AI art 'Fishnet test'

13

Fishnet test

AI art 'Hina's Story: Trial Runs Part 2' with user description 'Hina couldn’t take it. Level two was just too much. As best as she could, she tried to hold back the moans threatening to escape but it was a losing battle. Just as she was about to gave in, the intensity dropped to level one.
“Young girl, if you aren’t feeling, I have a honey lemon drop that could help”
Trying anything to distract herself, she reaches out to grab the drop, “Thank you, si-”
Level two.
Hina freezes before grabbing the drop, to focused and aroused by the return of the new level.
The subway stops and the old man stands, ready to get down. The old man places the drop in her hand and closes her hands around it. “Take care of yourself young one, my stop is here but try not going out when you aren’t well.
Level one.
Hina shakily relaxes, “Thank you for the kind words.”
As the old man leaves, Hina finally takes time to understand her current dilemma. Looks like the second level has her alternating between all the levels. And unfortunately for, she was only two minutes into the round trip.
The subway continued its journey, but Hina’s was just beginning. She tried her best to keeping quiet, pressing her hands against where the device was wreaking havoc.
Level two.
Hina crossed her legs, leaned forward trying to keep her composure.
Demo mode.
Momentary relax.
Level two.
She leans back in her seat, eyes squeezed shut and beginning to tear up. covering her mouth to stop any sound from escaping, the other pressed against the device thinking it would ease the stimulation. Not a chance.
This endless song and dance felt like torture for the next fifteen minutes as there were multiple stops that day. But the worst part was that Hina was kept at edge unable to release, conflicted on if this was a blessing or a curse. As the subway approached the final stop and the doors opened, Hina rushed out hiding somewhere to try to calm herself. But as she stepped out, the device stopped. Sweating profusely, Hina leans against a wall on the verge of crying.
Her phone vibrates, scaring Hina as she thought there was a second device.
“Almost done, just need to get level three data and we are done.”
Hina lets out a defeated moan. Tired, she heads back to the park before collapsing into the grass, her legs giving way from the earlier exertion.
“What have I gotten myself into? This is not what I signed up for.”
Well, you did. Verbally at least. So, let’s finish up.
At that moment level three begins, and it was far more intense than anything Hina had expected from the tiny demon. She immediately bought her knees to her chest, hands desperately pressed between her legs, her juices flowing between her fingers. Hina couldn’t make a sound, her whole body affected by the strong tremors, but the warmth was quickly spreading from her head to her toes.
“This is it! I can finally-”
Gone. Done. Disappeared.
Hina relaxes, hands and legs spread. Defeated
“I’m done, I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much Yuki.” The tears started flowing as Hina was still recovering from the intensity of the final level.
Her phone vibrates again, slowly Hina reads the message from Yuki. Just one word. “Office.”
Hina gets, the office thankfully a short walk from the park.
As Hina walks in Yuki gives her friend a hug.
“You did well, to be honest level three is pretty intense.”
Hina, looking at her friend with wet eyes, “You monster, I was on edge all day. I was absolutely terrified someone would catch me.”
“Hina,” Yuki smiled, “did you forget your safe word?”
Hina freezes, recalling the words Yuki left her with before the first level. Why hadn’t she used it? Sure her pride would have prevented her from doing so, but not even once had it occurred to her that there was one. There was no way. Was she secretly enjoying-?
No. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that.
“Well as a reward I have something that I think you desperately need” She took Hina to the storage closet where a chair and belts her situated.
“What is this-“
“Trust me, take off your heels and take a seat.
Hina obeys, doing as Yuki said and taking a seat.
Yuki grabs the leather belts, securing Hina to the chair, arms tied behind her back, resulting in a frog tie, her feet off the ground. She rips apart her hose, to Hina’s surprise and inserts the device, noting it looked a little different from the one from earlier. Still not done, Yuki unbuttons Hina’s top, attaching two vibrators, one for each nipple. Just as Hina was about to ask, Yuki forces a ring gag into her mouth, stopping her question. Finally she places a blindfold, heightening Hina’s senses of her current situation.
After admiring her work, Yuki grabs sound proof headphones and leans next to Hina’s ear.
“Have fun girl, and by the way, this one is version two, and has a level four. Enjoy.” Yuki then places the headphones on and closes the door as she leaves.
“WHAT!? YUKI PLEASE I CAN’T! COME BACK” but the ring gag prevented anything understandable from coming out. She begins fighting her bonds but to no avail.

The conclusion Part 3 soon!'

5

Hina's Story: Trial Runs Part 2

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 "Elise's Big Day"

30

Elise's Big Day

dreamerofdreams

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 7"

20

Cyndel Vale needs money 7

AI art "Happy Carnival!"

6

Happy Carnival!

AI art "Poo poo pee doo"

11

Poo poo pee doo

AI art "Dawn's Winter Retreat"

27

Dawn's Winter Retreat

AI art 'Night-time walk with Anara' with user description 'You invite Anara for a midnight walk on Valentine's Day. You give her a set of instructions to follow.
She seems excited over the phone.
But doing it makes her nervous.
But as always, she enjoys it once she gets into it.'

30

Night-time walk with Anara

AI art "Ellie's day out"

30

Ellie's day out

AI art '🗓️ Calendar Girl "March"' with user description 'It's time to turn the page on the calendar again 😏 Hello March! 🌼'

16

🗓️ Calendar Girl "March"

AI art 'Aura Captured' with user description 'The snow crunched beneath my boots as I approached the tavern, a solitary beacon of warmth in this frozen wasteland. My violet hair whipped in the biting wind, and the **Scales of Obedience** at my hip rattled—a reminder of my absolute authority. I, Aura the Guillotine, did not fear these mortals. They were but insects whose lives were measured in the weight of their souls.
As I reached the door, an old, obese man blocked my path, his face a map of filth and scars. "You killed them all," he rasped. "My entire bloodline. I challenge you, Aura. A measure of souls." My pride was my undoing. I scanned his mana; it was pathetic. I could have ended him instantly, but I wanted to see the despair on his face when his own soul condemned him. I summoned the Scales, pouring my vast, ancient mana into my side. The scale tipped instantly toward me. But seconds before his mana touched the plate, he drained a shimmering vial.
It was a **Potion of Infinite Illusion**. It didn’t actually increase his power, but it tricked the magical logic of the scales, making his mana appear as a bottomless, infinite abyss for five crucial seconds. The balance slammed down on his side with the force of a falling mountain. Because the scale "saw" him as superior, its magic bound my very soul to his will.
"Silence," he commanded, his voice cold and flat. "Speak only when I tell you to. Only do what I want you to do."
He took me to his new home town, a place I destroyed 60 years ago, rebuilt by the child i dis not kill that time.. he ordered me to serve every one of them, and i Did... one after another, no resting.. some where big, big as monsters, their bodies made mine look small, After forty-eight hours of being used by every man in his village—my demonic body cruelly resetting my anatomy to a virgin state after every violation—he led me to a stone square. "Put your head and hands through here," he ordered, pointing to a heavy, stone-and-iron guillotine frame. "**Wait here in this position in silence until I return. And keep serving anyone who comes to use you.**"
He never came back.
I have been in this position for seven hundred years. My neck and wrists are locked into the frame, my spine permanently arched, my rear perpetually exposed to the whims of the kingdom that grew around my shackle. I have forgotten the sound of my own voice; the concept of speech has withered in my mind like a dead leaf. I have forgotten the taste of food and the warmth of a bed. Most importantly, I have never slept. My demonic stamina ensures I remain wide awake, forced to witness every second of my degradation through the centuries.
The square is never empty. I have become a living monument, a landmark of flesh and stone. Around the base of my pedestal, a permanent slum of forty hobos has taken root. They live in wretched huts built against my legs, treating my body as a communal hearth. While the city sleeps, they take turns fucking me all night long, their unwashed bodies a constant weight against my cold skin. During the day, travelers from across the world join the queue. Sometimes five or six men use me simultaneously—one at my mouth, others at my pussy and anus—clambering over each other to claim a piece of the monster.
My body is a cursed masterpiece of regeneration. It is a biological nightmare of rapid recovery. One second, a man withdraws and my ass is left **extremely gaped**, a dark, distended void pulsing from the trauma of his intrusion; in the very next second, the demonic magic surges through my tissue, sealing the opening until it is **virgin again**. I am a perpetual loop of destruction and restoration, a tight, "pure" vessel that is torn open by the next stranger only to reset before his seed even cools.
I no longer think of magic. The only thing that exists is the count. I have become a living abacus. One billion. One billion and ten. The number is the only thing I truly know. I watch the fashion of the men change and the seasons bleed into centuries. I am a hole in the center of the world, a silent vessel that has processed the seed of entire lineages. I am the first demon to ever feel the sting of a tear, a single drop of salt water that has carved a permanent track down my weathered face—a testament to a billion men and an eternity of silence.'

30

Aura Captured

blackhairedstudent

Bahasa

Paparan

Imej Grid

Autolengkap prompt

Penapisan Kandungan

Bantuan & Sokongan

ikon tuntutan harian: gelas kosong

Tuntutan Harian

Hari ini

T

+3

F

+4

S

+5

S

+6

M

+7

T

+8

W

+9

Tuntut setiap hari untuk dapat kredit bonus!

ikon tuntutan harian: baldi penuh emas

Kredit tambahan

ikon quest

Selesaikan quest untuk mendapat kredit