1,795
surrounded by penises

surrounded by penises

0 Followers
1girlbreastsblushheterouncensoredpenisnudelong hairsolo focusmultiple boysnipplescompletely nudegroup sexerectionpussypubic hairtesticlesdark skincummale pubic hairsexgangbanglarge breastsblack hairlooking at viewerbarefootsweatnavelcum on bodyass
AI art 'Momo Hot Spring Reimagined' with user description 'The steam rose thick and heavy around the outdoor hot spring, just like in those old mountain inns from the stories. Lanterns flickered softly, reflecting on the dark water. I sank deeper into the heat with a sigh, my bare skin prickling from the temperature. My name is Momo Ayase, 1* years old, a medium who kicks spirit ass for a living. I'd snuck in here after a long day to unwind. *This better be worth it. No ghosts, no idiots interrupting.* Then the splashing started. Footsteps. A lot of them. At least fifteen old ugly men shuffled into the women's side of the spring—wrinkled faces, sagging bellies, crooked teeth, leering eyes. No towels, no shame. They surrounded me in the water, closing the circle fast. "Oi! What the hell do you fossils think you're doing?! This is the women's bath, you pervy old bastards! Get out before I make you regret it!" I yelled, voice loud and sharp, standing up straight even as the water made my head feel fuzzy. I glared right at the leader, a fat balding one with a nasty scar. *These ugly creeps don't scare me. I'm tough. I'll handle this like always.* They laughed. The leader lunged first, grabbing my wrist with surprising strength. "Pretty medium girl all alone. Perfect for us." Another grabbed my shoulder from behind, pushing me back into deeper water. I swung my free arm, elbowing one in the chest. "Bastards! Let go! You think you can touch me?!" But there were too many. Hands everywhere—rough, calloused, groping my arms, waist, thighs. They dragged me to the center. The heat was messing with me, making my limbs heavy, my thoughts slower. *Damn it... just like that time with the spirits. Stay focused, Momo. Fight back.* They got what they wanted. Three of them forced in at once. The leader shoved his thick cock deep into my pussy, stretching me wide. Another ugly old man pushed into my ass from behind, the pressure intense. A third grabbed my hair and rammed into my mouth, filling my throat. Triple penetration—my body stuffed full as they started thrusting in rough, sloppy rhythm. The water splashed wildly around us. "Mmph— you disgusting perverts! I'll kill you for this— ngh!" I tried to growl around the cock in my mouth, eyes watering but glaring hard. I bit down warningly, kicking my legs. *This can't break me. I'm strong. I face worse every day. Don't let them see you weak.* But inside, it was cracking me apart. The overwhelming fullness hit every spot at once, sending brutal waves of pleasure through me. My walls clenched hard despite myself. *No... it feels too good. Their ugly cocks are ruining me. Why is my body like this?* The other twelve watched, stroking themselves, groping my tits, slapping my ass, pinching my nipples. They rotated fast—more hands forcing my legs wider, more cocks taking turns in the three holes. "Look at her acting brave," one cackled. I kept fighting on the surface, spitting curses when my mouth was free. "Is that all you got, you worthless wrinkly idiots?! I've beaten scarier ghosts than your limp dicks! Get off me!" My voice stayed defiant, brave face locked in, but my mind was shattering. Extreme pleasure ripped through me as the first orgasm hit hard—my pussy and ass spasming around two cocks while the third fucked my throat deeper. I came so violently my vision blurred, legs shaking underwater, but I forced it down, replacing moans with angry grunts. "Not... enjoying this... at all... you bastards!" *Fuck... another one's coming. It's too much. I'm breaking. The heat, their roughness—I'm cumming again and again. Hate how good it feels.* They didn't stop. The gangrape went on relentlessly in the steamy spring. Three at a time, always—pounding my holes, filling me with cum that leaked into the water. They used my hands and breasts too, covering me in their seed. I kept the tough act, headbutting one, yelling "Idiots!" and "Perverted old shits!" between gasps. But internally I was lost. Each orgasm broke me more. *I'm supposed to be unbreakable like that girl in the stories. Yet here I am... getting destroyed by fifteen ugly old men. The pleasure is extreme. My body wants more even as I fight.* It felt like forever—the constant thrusting, the rotations, the way they laughed while using me. My brave mask held, but my thoughts were pure chaos: *Don't submit. Stay strong. But god... it's so deep. So full. Cumming again—shit!* Finally, they pulled back, satisfied, chuckling as they waded out and left me slumped against the rocks. Body marked with bruises and handprints, leaking from every hole, panting heavily. I floated there alone, the steam still swirling peacefully. My chest heaved. *Those ugly old bastards* A secret exhausted smile tugged at my lips. My body still twitched with aftershocks, deep satisfaction settling in. It broke me inside... the pleasure was insane. I acted tough but fuck, I loved how they took me. Maybe they will come back tomorrow night so i can have my revenge'
30

Momo Hot Spring Reimagined

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Praying ❤️' 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.'
21

Praying ❤️

blackhairedstudent
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 'Ichika Pink Room'
30

Ichika Pink Room

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Nagatoro Pink Room'
30

Nagatoro Pink Room

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Fern Gangbang"
24

Fern Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Nagatoro Bukkake'
30

Nagatoro Bukkake

blackhairedstudent
AI art "A Nightclub Memory"
30

A Nightclub Memory

dreamerofdreams
AI art "DarkRoom Gangbang"
29

DarkRoom Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
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 'Queen of the Desert: The Legend of Dalia' with user description 'Dalia left Rivermoor by horseback, looking for the Areolan Temple, known to house the power of the Breast Vicar. She rode until the sea disappeared behind her and the land turned to dunes of sand. “This must be the Deserts of Anima,” she thought. “Perhaps I’ve gone too far.” She rode until she came upon a desert city, full of rowdy barbarians and traders. She dismounted and moved through the caravan with trepidation. “I would very much not like to end up as I did on that ship,” she thought. As she walked to the center of the tent city, she stopped as a mighty red-haired woman was on an altar, pleasuring barbarian after barbarian with her enormous tits. Dalia stared with awe as the powerful woman subdued the rowdy men with her hands and breasts. The sight made her wet with lust. Her pleasure powers warmed inside her. After wiping herself off and adjusting her clothes, the beastly woman noticed the Casi and pointed. “Who the hell are you?” She barked. “Some fancy royal come to the desert?” “I’m Princess Dalia, the Pleasure Vicar, and I’ve been sent by the king to gather the other Vicars. Who are you?” She replied. “I’m Athena, and I run this place. Welcome to the traveling city of Elvania. Vicars huh? Never heard of them.” Dalia smiled. “I’m looking for the Areolan Temple. Have you heard of that?” Athena walked up to the Princess until her massive jugs eclipsed Dalia’s perky bosom. “Maybe, but first I want to see what a Pleasurs whatever can do. I challenge you to paizuri combat.” Dalia looks curious. A titfuck contest was so primative, but Athena’s tits were massive. How could she possibly win? Still, she desperately needed the information. “If I win, you become my vassal and will pleasure the men here,” Athena said, whipping out her monster mounds. “Deal. If I win, you take me to the temple,” Dalia said, exposing her perfect, but visibly inferior breasts. They went inside the tent of one of Athena’s finest breeding bulls and began the contest. “It’s simple: Whoever makes him cum the most wins,” Athena said. She got to work, her tits enveloping his massive cock. Within a few minutes, he was blowing his load on her tits and face. “Your turn, your highness.” Athena challenged. Dalia placed the cock between her tits. She rubbed with enthusiasm. Then, her powers activated. The pleasure the man felt was immediate - it was as if his cock were deep inside the tightest cunt in the world. “FUCK!” He yelled as he exploded his nut everywhere. Dalia was covered. Athena looked shocked before laughing cheerfully. “THAT WAS AMAZING!” She squealed. “No one has ever beat me at that. Is this the power of a Vicar? I want in!” That night, Athena treated the Princess to a wild night of feasts, fellowship, and fucking. The barbarian men pleased the Queen of the Desert and the Pleasure Vicar until they went to sleep. After a nice oasis bath, the two women headed to the temple, where the power of the Vicar awaits. (@gildenstein, @bad77, @barry915, @terror2, @starima, @smut317 and @murcie got Athena the win with seven votes! Mikala and Rina tied with three votes and Madeline had zero. All will be featured and maybe some others?)'
30

Queen of the Desert: The Legend of Dalia

octavian
AI art "Revy Gangbang"
30

Revy Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
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 'Shinobu Dark Room'
17

Shinobu Dark Room

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Nagatoro Slut ❤️"
30

Nagatoro Slut ❤️

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Ruka ❤️'
30

Ruka ❤️

blackhairedstudent
AI art "Cyndel Vale needs money 7"
20

Cyndel Vale needs money 7

octavian
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 "@blackhairedstudent's 2K Follower Special 🎉🎉"
30

@blackhairedstudent's 2K Follower Special 🎉🎉

terror2
AI art 'Marin Gangbang' with user description 'The heavy cardboard box sat in the center of the cramped apartment, labeled with bright "FRAGILE" tape that felt like a cruel irony. Inside, Marin Kitagawa was folded into a compact, agonizing ball. Her wrists were bound to her ankles with thick, industrial-grade zip ties, and a silk scarf was knotted tightly around her mouth, muffling her indignant huffs. The sound of a box cutter slicing through the tape made her heart thud once—not out of fear, but out of sheer, mounting irritation. As the flaps were pulled back, the harsh fluorescent light blinded her. Twelve pairs of eyes peered down into the box, staring at the "package" they had collectively purchased. "Finally," one of them whispered, reaching in to hoist her out. Marin was dumped unceremoniously onto the stained carpet, still bound in that humiliating crouch. As the leader reached down to untie the gag, Marin didn't sob or plead. The second her mouth was free, she glared with enough heat to melt lead. "Are you serious right now? Three hours! I was in that box for three hours! Do you have any idea how much my legs cramp? My makeup is probably a total disaster. This is the most low-budget, 'edgy' entrance I’ve ever had to make. Cut these off. Now. If I get a circulation bruise on my ankles, I’m doubling the fee!" One of the fans hurried forward with scissors, trembling as he snipped the ties. Marin immediately sprawled out on the rug, rubbing her wrists. She was completely naked under the "packaging," but she carried herself with the air of a queen inconvenienced by peasants. "Okay, look," she said, pointing a finger. "I’m sore, I’m annoyed, and I’m covered in cardboard dust. Let’s get this moving. I want to be in a hot bath before the sun comes up. Who’s the first genius who thinks he can handle the 'merchandise'?" The small, dimly lit office smelled of stale coffee and desperation. These twelve men were exactly as she had feared: a collection of unwashed hoodies and eyes that held a disturbingly possessive glint. They had pooled their life savings to "rent" their favorite idol, and the contract she had signed in a moment of financial desperation was iron-clad. For the next several hours, the apartment became a theater of organized chaos. Marin remained a statue of pouting frustration. As the first three men approached, she didn't even bother to change her expression. One took her mouth, another guided himself into her pussy, and a third—the one with the shaky hands—claimed her anal passage. The triple intrusion was a sudden, heavy weight, but Marin just stared at a water stain on the ceiling. She was annoyed by the lack of rhythm and the sheer, staggering girth of men who clearly spent more time on message boards than in gyms. "Ugh, you’re hitting my hip bone," she muffled around the first man’s member, her eyes tracking a spider near the baseboard. "Adjust your angle or something. Honestly, do you guys even know how anatomy works? It’s like you’ve only ever seen a human woman in a low-res JPG." The men were relentless, driven by a primal need to finally possess the girl they had only ever seen on a screen. They rotated with a mechanical greed, sometimes four or five of them crowding around her at once, their hands roaming over her skin in a desperate attempt to memorize the texture of their idol. Marin felt the heat, the sweat, and the overwhelming scent of cheap cologne and desperation. "You're breathing too loud," she told the man currently hammering into her pussy, her tone as casual as if she were complaining about the weather. "It’s super distracting. And you," she pointed at the man waiting for her ass, "stop making that weird whimpering sound. It’s totally killing the vibe." Despite her constant critiques, the men seemed even more energized. Her annoyance acted as a catalyst, a reminder that they were interacting with the real, unfiltered Marin Kitagawa. They pushed her into various positions—over the back of the sofa, against the wall, on the grimy carpet—using her three orifices with a frantic, uncoordinated energy. By the third hour, Marin was coated in a sheen of sweat and the evidence of their collective release. Her golden hair was messy, clinging to her damp shoulders. "Seriously?" she groaned, wiping a stray drop from her cheek. "I’m going to need like, ten showers to get the smell of 'basement' off me. You guys are the absolute worst." The men, now mostly exhausted, looked at her with awe. They had used her in every way possible, filled her to the point of overflowing, and yet she still sat there, looking down at them with that same look of being completely unimpressed. "Is that it?" Marin asked, standing up and stretching. She felt the heavy, lingering stretch in her core, the physical proof of twelve men’s greed, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. "Because I'm done. I'm going home, I'm ordering a massive pile of karaage, and I'm pretending this night never happened. Secretly she came 5 times.'
30

Marin Gangbang

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