1,549
candle

candle

0 Followers
breasts1girllong hairblushindoorslarge breastsnipplesuncensorednudelooking at viewersoloheteroblack haircompletely nudepussyopen mouthpenisassmedium breastsnavelsolo focus1boythighssmilesweatshort haircollarboneclosed mouthbare shoulderssex
AI art "2girls fun"
21

2girls fun

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Hot chocolate"
19

Hot chocolate

zuzul
AI art "The Hunger: Walpurgis Night"
30

The Hunger: Walpurgis Night

dreamerofdreams
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 'Piper OC Debut' with user description 'The other design I've been returning to, tbh not fully convinced I'm settled on a name yet as she is more recent, but I'm calling her Piper for now... Piper fills the all-around hentai girl role for me, she loves to please and satisfy others and loves to see others get turned on because of her. She is open-minded and her thoughts quickly turn sexual, causing her to discover and embrace many different fetishes. Often she works as a bunny hostess in high-end establishments and has encounters that lead to off-the-clock activities... Here she is getting a little messy~ Search terms: blowjob paizuri facial reverse bunnysuit cum on tongue'
21

Piper OC Debut

onlyyouprod
AI art 'Emma witch Training' with user description 'The roads after the civil war felt heavier somehow, scarred by battles that still echoed in my memories. I am Emma Millstein, and though peace had returned to Erebonia, my magical abilities remained unsettled—threads of arcana slipping from my grasp like frayed silk. Celine had insisted on this journey to seek ancient ley lines, but I pressed on with quiet determination. My purple hut stood grounded in a quiet clearing as I reached the misty crossroads lined with ancient oaks. There sat Celine, my feline familiar, perched elegantly on a weathered stone, tail flicking with her usual impatience. Her golden eyes narrowed as I approached. "Celine," I said softly, adjusting my witch's hat with a gloved hand. My voice carried the polite restraint of my noble upbringing. "My powers have not recovered as I hoped since the war's end. The spells feel diminished. The elements respond with delay. Do you know of any method to strengthen them? Anything at all that might help?" Celine licked her paw once, then fixed me with that sharp gaze. "Meow, Emma, you're always so serious. There is one hidden way, but I'm not sure if it actually works. It's old folklore. Rose does it almost every week down in the settlements. Claims it replenishes her life energy." My cheeks warmed slightly, but I kept my composure. "What is this method, Celine? If it's possible, I wish to try it. I've come too far to dismiss any path to restoration. Tell me plainly." The cat stretched lazily. "It's life energy absorption, through intimate means. You have to draw it from men—the more, the better. Make them cum inside you, on your body, or in your mouth. Their vital essence transfers that way, supposedly flooding a witch's core with raw power. I've caught Rose doing it with the male villagers more than once. She'd take them all, letting them use her until she glowed. But Emma... it's not elegant sorcery. It's messy. Primal." I stood there a long moment, refined sensibilities clashing with necessity. The idea was crude, far beneath the dignified arts of the Millstein line, yet the war had taught uncomfortable sacrifices. My heart raced with hesitation, a flush creeping up my neck, but my voice remained steady. "If Rose can manage it weekly and maintain her strength, then... it does not hurt to try. For the sake of my magic, and to better protect what remains dear. I will endure it." Celine's tail swished. "Your choice, witch." Word spread quickly through the nearby small village via a subtle illusion spell. By evening, they arrived—more than forty men, farmers and laborers, drawn by curiosity. I welcomed them into my grounded purple hut, lit by soft magical orbs. Standing tall in my dark dress, I spoke with quiet resolve. "I seek only to restore my strength. Give what you will, and I shall receive." They were not gentle. Hands pulled at my clothing, stripping me bare and tossing me onto the bed like discarded cloth. I gasped as the first burly man claimed my mouth, his thick length pushing past my lips while I struggled to maintain composure. Another spread my legs, entering me without preamble, the stretch burning. Pain bloomed, but I focused inward, seeking any trace of life energy. They used me relentlessly, passing me like a shared toy. Flipped onto hands and knees, one pounded my pussy while another forced into my ass, the dual invasion bringing tears. Cum splattered my breasts and face as others stroked over me. I swallowed what I could, salty and overwhelming, while more flooded inside, leaking from every hole. They tossed me around the hut—lifted and impaled, bent over the table, held between two thrusting in rhythm. Slaps echoed, grunts filled the air. Over forty men rotated through the night, using every way imaginable: double penetration, hands and mouth filled, seed coating my hair, thighs, pooling beneath me. By dawn, I lay wasted on my bed, legs splayed, my refined form gaped and trembling. Cum poured from my stretched pussy and ass in thick streams. My skin glistened with layers of it, body aching with raw pain. Nausea twisted my stomach from the excess. Celine padded in, leaping onto the bed's edge. She surveyed the scene, nose wrinkling. "Celine," I rasped, voice hoarse yet polite, barely lifting my head. "I don't feel anything new. Only pain and nausea. It burns everywhere. No new strength, no clearer arcana. Just this emptiness." The cat tilted her head, amusement in her tone. "Well, Emma dear, maybe Rose is just a little whore who enjoys getting fucked senseless every week. Some ancient ways are just excuses for that. You might need a different spark." I closed my eyes, lying there full and broken, the war's scars no lighter. My quest continued, but this path brought only weariness.'
23

Emma witch Training

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Public bath 2"
7

Public bath 2

zuzul
AI art 'Yoruichi Gangbang' with user description 'Yoruichi leaned back against the wooden bench in the Soul Society training grounds, her golden eyes shadowed with lingering disgust and conflicted heat as she faced Rukia and Orihime. The two younger women sat close, hanging on her words. “You wanted the raw truth from my past? During a botched solo mission near enemy borders, they ambushed and captured me. No chains, but they dragged me straight into their underground dungeon and held me captive for days as their sex slave. Hundreds of soldiers used me in one nonstop gangbang after another.” Rukia blinked in shock. “Yoruichi-sama… you were taken like that?” Orihime shifted uncomfortably, voice soft. “It must have felt violating…” Yoruichi began, her tone starting proud. “At first I was still fully clothed in my shihakusho, standing defiant in the dim stone room. The soldiers circled me, laughing. I smirked and said, ‘Come on then, try me.’ The first ones grabbed me while I was dressed, yanking my top open to expose my breasts but leaving the rest on initially. One shoved his cock into my mouth right through the torn fabric, while another hiked up my hakama and thrust into my pussy. I sucked him confidently, tongue working, my body responding despite myself. ‘That all?’ I taunted, even as they used me. Soon they stripped me piece by piece, but the gangbang started with me clothed and proud. Double penetration came fast— one deep in my pussy, another forcing into my ass while I still had scraps of cloth hanging off me. I rocked back, moaning, taking it like a challenge.” Orihime whispered, eyes wide. “You stayed so bold at the beginning…” “But the hours dragged on and the numbers swelled disgustingly,” Yoruichi continued, voice turning bitter. “Fifty soldiers, then a hundred, then two hundred— an endless line using my body without rest. My mouth became a filthy cum-dump, jaws sore from constant face-fucking, their balls slapping my chin as they poured load after load down my throat. They passed me around the gangbang, lifting my naked form so two thick cocks could force into my pussy at once while a third claimed my ass, stretching me horribly. Triple penetration was nonstop— holes filled completely, bodies slamming into me. Cum coated every inch of my skin, matted my hair, leaked from my swollen pussy and ass. I started feeling revolted, sickened by the sheer volume, the way my body kept betraying me with unwanted pleasure while the degradation built.” Rukia leaned in, voice hushed. “How did you hold on through all those men using you?” Yoruichi’s face twisted with clear disgust. “I didn’t. By the second and third day I shattered. The massive gangbang never slowed— they kept triple-penetrating me relentlessly, pounding every hole until I broke down crying. Tears streamed down my face as cocks still thrust into my sobbing mouth. ‘Please… it’s too much…’ I whimpered between thrusts, body shaking, but they laughed and used me harder. My belly bloated from swallowing endless thick cum. It was revolting. Even when I had to relieve myself in the corner, my shit came out pale white, thick with all the seed I’d been forced to choke down hour after hour. I felt utterly filthy and degraded, hating how they had turned me into their shared cumdump for days.” Orihime gently touched her arm, sympathetic. “Yoruichi-san… enduring that many using you sounds traumatic. Your strength is still incredible…” Yoruichi exhaled shakily, eyes dark with shame and heat. “It was sickening being held captive and used like that in their dungeon. Covered, filled, and broken from the nonstop gangbang. Yet… even today, some twisted part of me craves sex exactly like that. The disgusting, overwhelming fullness of triple penetration, being passed around by hundreds until I cry and lose control. The filthy memory of my shit turning white from all that swallowed cum still makes me wet sometimes when I remember.” She gave a husky, conflicted wink. “Want me to describe how my holes felt after the two-hundredth soldier, girls? I can go deeper if you’re brave enough to hear it...'
30

Yoruichi Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Cyndel as inspired by YOU!"
10

Cyndel as inspired by YOU!

octavian
AI art
4

ไม่มีชื่อ

chainny
AI art "4K : Thanks you all for the support ! 🎊😳🤩😻🫡"
18

4K : Thanks you all for the support ! 🎊😳🤩😻🫡

zuzul
AI art 'My Lord' with user description 'Are you men of faith?'
2

My Lord

cef_ultra
AI art "Sharing bath"
5

Sharing bath

zuzul
AI art "Arabic goddess"
14

Arabic goddess

asianloverz
AI art "@blackhairedstudent's 2K Follower Special 🎉🎉"
30

@blackhairedstudent's 2K Follower Special 🎉🎉

terror2
AI art 'Frieren Cold Winter' with user description 'The snowstorm trapped me in their remote hut long before the hero's call ever reached me. I, Frieren, an elven mage wandering the northern lands, had sought only shelter from the blizzard. Two human brothers lived there—Garr and Lorn. Kind and respectful, they offered me warm broth without lingering glances. Shirtless always, their bodies sculpted by labor, they claimed their skin had adapted to the cold over years. "We don't feel it anymore," Garr said calmly. I found it curious but irrelevant. Days passed in white isolation. Boredom crept in for them. "Lady Frieren, any fun magic to pass the time?" Lorn asked politely one evening. I recalled Serie's garden that day—her naked form covered in cum, holes gaped by six men. She had told me, "When boredom strikes, I use this spell on myself. It makes everything vivid." She warned never to cast it on men. The reason slipped my ancient memory. I cast it on myself, then them. Pink light bloomed. Their cocks swelled instantly, doubling in thickness and length, monstrous and veined. Heat consumed me. Rational thought vanished. "I need those fat, huge cocks inside me right now," I said in my usual flat tone, cheeks flushed. "Don't make this elf beg." The magic overpowered their respect. Garr pinned me to the table, thrusting his enlarged dick deep into my tight pussy. I gasped softly. "Yes... stretch this ancient elf cunt with your massive human cock." Lorn pushed into my mouth, bulging my throat. I sucked hungrily, eyes calm yet glazed with need. What followed was relentless. They fucked me for hours in every way. Double vaginal, both gigantic shafts forcing my walls apart until I felt deliciously ruined. "Deeper, you big-dicked fools. Pound this slutty elf hole." Double anal came next, my ass stretched wide as they alternated and then filled me together. One in my mouth, one in my pussy, suspended between their strong bodies. Positions blurred—riding reverse, bent over the hearth, legs over shoulders. Cum flooded me endlessly, dripping from every gaped opening, yet their erections never softened. Five full days. The spell's curse showed: on men, it lasted without mercy. I meditated seven hours daily to recover mana, but they continued thrusting into my sleeping body, using my unconscious holes. In dreams, I still felt them. As the effect faded, pain bloomed—my uterus battered, pussy and ass utterly destroyed by their gigantic penises. I recast the spell on myself to chase more pleasure. "Keep fucking me... don't stop ruining your immortal whore." When the snow finally ceased, I limped away, body sore yet satisfied. That winter began a tradition. Every year I returned to their hut before my greater journey. They aged gradually, still vigorous enough to double-penetrate me senseless for days, my flat voice moaning slutty demands: "Fill this elf womb again with your huge cocks." I was careful with the spell after that first mistake. Time flowed. Humans withered faster than elves. One winter I found them frailer. Soon after, the hero party recruited me for the Demon King quest. I left the north, adventures consuming centuries in my long life. Decades later, after victory and farewells, I retraced my steps to that hut. It was destroyed—roof caved in by age and storms, walls crumbled. A single weathered tombstone read "Garr and Lorn – Kind Brothers." Beside it lay a skeleton, my old traveling blanket draped over its bones, as if one had waited until the end for the elf who visited each winter. I sat in the quiet snow, memories of those five-day blizzards washing over me—endless double anal, double vaginal, being gaped and filled while snow howled. "You big-cocked fools" I whispered flatly. A tear froze on my cheek. Elves endure. Humans do not. I placed a small flower on the grave and continued onward, the wind whispering faint echoes of pleasure and loss.'
30

Frieren Cold Winter

blackhairedstudent
AI art "3K and so some catgirl !"
14

3K and so some catgirl !

zuzul
AI art 'Voyage to Rivermoor - The Legend of Dalia' with user description 'The journey to the port of Nightvale took three days. Dalia arrived at the bustling harbor. The smell of salt, fish, and tar hung heavy in the air. Tall masts creaked in the wind as ships rocked gently at the docks. Dalia walked through the crowded waterfront until they found the vessel they had been directed to: The Crimson Tide, a large, weathered merchant ship bound for Rivermoor. Old Captain Talos stood on the gangplank. He looked the group over slowly, his gaze lingering on each woman before settling on Dalia. “You want passage?” he asked, voice rough from years at sea. “We’re sailing with the tide tonight. But passage on the sea isn’t cheap.” Dalia stepped forward, her golden glow carefully muted. “I carry the King’s gold. Name your price.” Talos let out a low, humorless chuckle and shook his head. “Gold means nothing once we leave sight of land, little lady. Out there, the only currency that matters is flesh. If you want to sail on The Crimson Tide, you pay with sex. Every single day of the voyage. You will be available to the crew. Sixty men. They work hard. They fuck harder. You’ll serve them whenever and however they want.” “It’s a fifteen-day voyage across the sea,” Dalia said plainly. "I know," Talos responded. "These are the terms, Vicar." “I accept your terms, Captain. Fifteen days. I expect to be fed and not beaten. In return, you will take me safely to Rivermoor.” Talos grinned, eyes raking over the beautiful woman. “Smart choice, Princess. Welcome aboard The Crimson Tide.” He gestured toward the ship. The crew of sixty rough, hungry sailors watched from the deck with open lust as the woman began to board. As soon as the ship cleared the harbor and the last strip of land disappeared over the horizon, the rules changed. The crew of sixty men wasted no time. The gang-fucking began immediately and without mercy. The fifteen-day voyage had officially begun. Dalia closed her eyes, already mentally preparing herself for the long days and nights ahead. The lower galley of The Crimson Tide had become a nonstop orgy of flesh and cum. The sailors were relentless. There was no rest, no mercy, no breaks. As soon as one man finished, another took his place — sometimes two or three at once. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, sex, and salt. The wet, obscene sounds of cocks slamming into soaked holes, gagging throat sounds, and slapping skin filled the entire lower deck. On the fifteenth morning, the Crimson Tide finally sighted land. As the ship docked at the small port near Rivermoor, the exhausted woman stood at the railing, breathing in the fresh air like it was salvation. She got off at the Rivermoor Dock, sore, exhausted but closer to her objective. “I endured more than anyone should have to. Tomorrow I begin the search for the temple near here. But tonight… I recover.” @parda @bad77 @barry915 @kendarfulgrim @murcie @warmicestudios @cef_ultra @peterco @terror2 @blackhairedstudent'
30

Voyage to Rivermoor - The Legend of Dalia

octavian
AI art 'Kaguya Dark Fantasy' with user description 'The Sunday sun filtered through the stained glass of the chapel, casting vibrant hues of crimson and gold across Kaguya Shinomiya’s folded hands. To the world, she was the ice queen, the pinnacle of refinement and the heir to a trillion-yen empire. But as the final "Amen" echoed, her heart raced not with piety, but with the anticipation of the transformation that awaited her. She left the sanctuary with the grace of a saint, yet her thoughts were already descending into the dark, meticulously planned ritual she had commissioned to escape the suffocating weight of her own name. Once inside the secluded, soundproofed manor she kept hidden from the Shinomiya eyes, the transition began. The six men she had selected were chosen for their sheer physical presence and their willingness to strip away every layer of her dignity. They were the antithesis of the polished suitors her father favored. As she stood before them, still clad in her Sunday best, the psychological shift was instantaneous. The "Ice Queen" didn't just melt; she shattered. *This is what I am beneath the pearls,* she thought, her breath hitching as the first of them barked a command for her to drop to her knees. *Not an heir, not a genius. Just a creature meant to be used. A dog.* The contrast was the source of her ecstasy. Every Sunday morning, she was forced to be perfect—every word measured, every glance calculated. Here, in the dim light of the basement, she was forbidden from speaking unless it was a whimper of submission. As the men loomed over her, their shadows swallowing her small frame, Kaguya felt a profound sense of relief. The burden of being "Kaguya Shinomiya" was a crown of thorns; here, it was replaced by a collar. One of them roughly grabbed her hair, forcing her head back. "Time to work, Skank," he growled. Kaguya’s mind spun. *Yes. Call me that. Erase the Shinomiya. Erase the dignity.* The physical reality of the situation was a brutal, rhythmic onslaught. As they began to use her, focusing entirely on her back way to preserve the "purity" that her family so obsessively guarded for future political alliances, Kaguya’s internal monologue was a frantic loop of self-discovery. Each impact was a reminder that she possessed a body that could feel something other than the cold chill of expectation. She felt the heat of them, the smell of sweat and leather, and the overwhelming power they exerted over her. *I paid for this,* she reminded herself, a surge of pride mixing with her shame. *I am the one who orchestrated my own undoing. I am so powerful that I can buy my own powerlessness.* When the time came for the culmination of their efforts, Kaguya was guided toward the floor. Two heavy ceramic bowls sat there, mockingly labeled in bold, black letters: **SKANK** and **SLUT**. As they filled her with their collective heat, the command was given. She was to push it all out into the bowls—a physical manifestation of her being "emptied" of her status. Kaguya trembled on all fours, her muscles aching, her mind a haze of endorphins and adrenaline. As she watched the bowls fill, she felt a strange sense of accomplishment. This was the only thing she had ever produced that wasn't for the sake of the family business or academic excellence. It was raw, it was vile, and it was entirely hers. "Drink," another man commanded, his voice a low rumble behind her. As she lowered her face to the bowl, lapping at the contents like a common stray, she felt him enter her from behind, restarting the cycle of motion. The humiliation was a cold fire in her veins. *Look at the great Kaguya now,* she mocked herself. *Drinking from a dog bowl while being used like an animal. If they could see me now, the world would stop turning.* But that was the point. The world didn't see. Only these six men saw, and to them, she wasn't a Shinomiya; she was exactly what was written on the bowl. Every lap of her tongue, every jolt of her body against the man behind her, was a strike against the cage her life had become. She enjoyed it with a desperate, starving intensity. The fear of being caught was the seasoning that made the shame taste like wine. In these moments, she wasn't the girl who had to win every battle; she was the girl who had already lost everything, and in that loss, she found the only true freedom she had ever known. By the time the sun began to set, Kaguya was exhausted, her body marked and her pride nonexistent. But as she dressed herself in silence, preparing to return to the cold palace of her reality, she felt a quiet, simmering strength. She would be the perfect ice queen for six days, fueled by the memory of the Sunday when she was nothing more than a dog.'
18

Kaguya Dark Fantasy

blackhairedstudent
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