mask

AI art 'Snow Gangbang' with user description 'Some hot cold scenes ❤️'
14

Snow Gangbang

blackhairedstudent
AI art "The Hunger: Walpurgis Night"
30

The Hunger: Walpurgis Night

dreamerofdreams
AI art 'Magazine Cover: Nyx' with user description 'Next in the line: Nyx.

I never thought she will be so good at modeling but she has talent! 

I wanted to add an extra to this Covers and I tried the format 16:9 so that the image looks like a poster.

Iet me know what you think!'
5

Magazine Cover: Nyx

cef_ultra
AI art 'Kujou Sara'
2

Kujou Sara

murcie-ai
AI art "Kiriko's Stolen Video"
23

Kiriko's Stolen Video

nyxee
AI art 'Techwear girl: part 3' with user description 'Nyx was never meant to be seen. In a city of ten million souls and twice as many cameras. She has spent her life hiding behind straps, buckles, and waterproof fabric, a quiet girl consumed by the roar of a technological wasteland. But silence can become a cage, and lately, the only way she can feel her own heart beat is by breaking the rules.

Tonight, she’s chasing a different kind of signal. She’s stepping out of her armor, letting the humid city heat touch her skin in places it never should. it’s about the raw, trembling adrenaline of the forbidden. Watch as she exposes herself to the cold city air, her body reacting to the fear of being watched. She seeks the thrill of the gaze, yet her eyes are filled with a haunting shyness—a regret that tastes like static.

She’s terrified of the strangers in the shadows, but there’s a deeper fear: the feeling that the city itself is watching. Not just people, but something else. Something cold, calculating, and always connected. Is she truly alone on this rooftop, or is she just a bug in a much larger system?"'
6

Techwear girl: part 3

cef_ultra
AI art '!!Creepy story!!. CHAPTER 1. Slenderman.' with user description '"THE UMBRA NEXUS ACADEMY."

In an advanced society where monsters, aliens, dimensional beings, demons, etc., all coexist, there is a very special school: the Umbra Nexus Academy (U.N.A.). A highly prestigious academy, renowned for its high quality.

Actually, it's because of the tremendous orgies that take place there, since it's a mixed school where everything is present. Hundreds of teenagers discovering their own bodies and those of their elders. All in the name of science.'
16

!!Creepy story!!. CHAPTER 1. Slenderman.

crow-7w7
AI art 'Angie Casting' with user description 'The humid, sterile air of the public train station bathroom was the first thing to hit my senses, smelling of industrial bleach, old rust, and the sharp, musky scent of unwashed bodies. My head lolled to the side, my silver pigtails messy and sticking to my damp neck. As consciousness trickled back into my brain, I felt a heavy, dull ache—a sensation of being stretched far beyond my limits.
*Ah... Atua is so generous today,* I thought, a dazed smile spreading across my face even before my eyes fully opened.
I remembered talking to Tenko earlier about the divine joy of being a vessel—how the physical body is just a tool for Atua’s will, and how I craved the sensation of being used until there was nothing left of me but spirit. Tenko had looked so flustered, but then she remembered it was my birthday and handed me a cup of coffee. It was bitter... and then the world had dissolved into a beautiful, velvety black.
Now, I was awake. My wrists were cold, held tight by heavy steel handcuffs that rattled against a rusted plumbing pipe. My ankles were shackled, forced wide apart to frame the entrance of my sanctuary. And in that sanctuary, there was a presence. A black, gigantic member was buried deep within my anus, rhythmic and relentless. The man behind me was a titan, his dark skin slick with sweat as he claimed me with a primal, wordless hunger.
To my left, resting on the grimy tile floor, sat a plastic bucket. It was overflowing with condoms, a mountain of latex meant to facilitate a marathon of devotion.
"Nyahaha! Atua, you really outdid yourself with this birthday party!" I chirped, my voice echoing off the graffiti-covered stalls.
The men were already lined up. I could hear their footsteps, their impatient breathing, the clinking of belts. They were the "unclean" of the world—hobos with matted hair and clothes that smelled like the gutter, stinking men with calloused hands, and wide-eyed teenagers. One after another, they stepped forward.
The titan behind me finished, a deep groan vibrating through my spine as he withdrew. Immediately, the next man took his place. Some were quick, driven by a frantic need. Others were slow and cruel. Every few turns, a man would ignore the bucket of condoms entirely. I felt the raw, searing friction of skin on skin, the hot, slick sliding of natural fluid as they bypassed the latex and drove themselves into the very depths of my core. My anus was a burning ring of fire, but I welcomed the heat. I welcomed the filth.
But then, the ritual shifted. A man, smelling of cheap cigarettes and desperation, didn't aim for the back. He guided his length into my pussy. The moment he slid inside, the thin veil of my composure finally shattered. I wasn't just a vessel; I was a participant in the divine ecstasy. My hips began to move of their own accord, meeting every thrust with a rhythmic, desperate grind. I was loving each and every one of them. I was cherishing the grit, the sweat, and the overwhelming scent of a dozen different lives converging inside of me.
"Thank you, Atua! Thank you for this glorious day of service!" I screamed toward the cracked ceiling, my eyes rolling back as a wave of pleasure crashed over me. This was the best day of my life. My body was being claimed by the world, and in that total surrender, I felt closer to the divine than I ever had.
The hours bled into one another. The sun must have set outside the station, leaving only the buzzing fluorescent lights to witness the carnage. For six hours, the line never stopped. At least sixty random men—each one a different flavor of desire—had used me. I was a map of their release, my skin painted in various shades of white and grey.
Finally, the heavy door of the bathroom creaked open. The last man, a scruffy teenager who looked like he was about to faint, finished inside my pussy and stumbled away, leaving me slumped against the pipes.
Tenko walked in. She looked around at the wreckage—the empty condom wrappers, the spilled bucket, and me. I was a mess. My silver hair was matted with fluids, my face flushed a deep, feverish pink. My entrances were gaped wide, raw and red, struggling to close after the constant assault. I was literally full of cum, the excess leaking out of me to pool on the cold, dirty tiles.
"Angie!" Tenko shouted, her voice a mix of horror and a strange, hidden pride. "Happy birthday! I... I hope Atua provided everything you asked for."
I looked up at her, my vision blurry but my heart soaring. I gave her a wide, toothy grin, my tongue darting out to lick a stray drop from my lip.
"It was perfect, Tenko," I whispered, my voice hoarse from six hours of praising the heavens. "Atua is so, so good."'
25

Angie Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Genshin Girls (Spicy Inazuma Edition)' with user description 'Feat. both Raidens.'
9

Genshin Girls (Spicy Inazuma Edition)

usagi77
AI art "Random pics that doesn't fit in sets"
20

Random pics that doesn't fit in sets

zuzul
AI art "Pokemon Easter Eggs"
30

Pokemon Easter Eggs

terror2
AI art
5

ไม่มีชื่อ

chainny
AI art 'Tsunade first Mission' with user description 'The afternoon sun hung low over Konoha as Tsunade sat at a stone table, a jug of sake already half-empty. Sakura and Hinata sat across from her, their faces flushed with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation. They had been discussing the nature of shinobi romance, but the conversation had taken a sharp turn when Sakura finally gathered the courage to ask about the Legendary Sannin’s first time.
Tsunade let out a sharp, dry laugh, the sound echoing off the training ground walls. "Romantic? You girls have been reading too many of Jiraiya’s trashy novels. My first time wasn't a candlelit dinner or a confession under the cherry blossoms. It was a tactical necessity. I was old enough to know exactly what I was doing, and I’d do it again if the village needed it."
"Wait, you mean it was... for a mission?" Sakura asked, her eyes widening. Hinata leaned in, her fingers twisting nervously. "W-was it with someone you loved, Lady Tsunade?"
Tsunade snorted, pouring another cup. "Love had nothing to do with it. It was back when the Third Hokage—Lord Sarutobi—had been captured during a high-stakes diplomatic mission. Another village had him in a localized chakra-dampening stronghold. The ransom they demanded was absurd, enough to bankrupt the Land of Fire, and they made it clear: if the gold didn't arrive by dawn, they’d execute him."
She leaned forward, her voice dropping into a serious, military tone. "Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and I didn't wait for orders. We made a plan. Jiraiya was to be the loud distraction at the front gates. Orochimaru was the scalpel, infiltrating quietly. My job was the pivot. I was to infiltrate the secondary guard post and keep their eyes on me so they wouldn't check the perimeter."
"The plan was perfect on paper," she continued. "But the guards at my post were equipped with experimental chakra-suppressing devices. The moment I stepped into the light, my strength vanished. They defeated me immediately. They started dragging me back to their keep, intending to lock me away as a bargaining chip."
"But if they took you inside, the alarm would have been raised!" Sakura gasped. Hinata looked pale, whispering, "Wh-what did you do?"
"I knew if I went into those cells, Orochimaru wouldn't have enough time," Tsunade nodded. "I had to keep them right there, in that guard post, completely occupied. So, I started mocking them. I called them cowards who hid behind machines. I questioned their masculinity, told them they weren't real men. It worked. It infuriated them. They stopped caring about the mission. They wanted to break me. They ripped my clothes off right there in the dirt and started to use me. There were at least fifty men in that rotation, and I made sure every single one of them stayed focused on my body."
"F-fifty?!" Hinata squeaked, her face turning a bright shade of red. Sakura gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white. "You stayed there... on purpose?"
"I had to," Tsunade said firmly. "It was a systematic assault. At any given moment, I had three men in my ass, two in my pussy, and someone forcing himself down my throat. It was a relentless cycle of deep-throat sessions and heavy-caliber bukkakes that left me blinded by their collective release. I was a communal vessel, a raw, aching piece of meat pinned under a mountain of sweating, angry soldiers."
Sakura swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "That sounds... horrifying. How did you endure that much trauma?"
"Because it was working," Tsunade countered, her voice turning cold and professional. "While they were taking turns tearing me open, distracted by the 'trophy' they thought they had won, Jiraiya was clearing the gates and Orochimaru was slipping the Hokage out. They were so busy trying to humiliate me that they didn't notice their entire operation was being dismantled. By dawn, Sarutobi was safe and Konoha reinforcements arrived. The guards were rounded up; those who touched me were executed for war crimes."
Tsunade drained her cup and looked at the two young kunoichi. "You look shocked. But here’s the secret: after the first hour, once the tactical part was handled, I realized something. The raw, primal intensity of being used by fifty men at once... it woke something up in me. It was honestly some of the best sex of my entire life. It stripped away all the pretense of being a 'Lady.' Now? Well, you’ve heard the rumors. In the bedroom, I’m a complete and total whore. I learned that night that there’s no high quite like being utterly possessed by a crowd. If you want to know what it means to be a woman of Konoha, you learn to find the pleasure in the sacrifice."'
27

Tsunade first Mission

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Monaca ❤️' with user description 'The silence of the void was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, mechanical hiss of Monaca’s life support as her escape pod drifted toward a hulking, rusted silhouette. It was an abandoned freighter, a relic of a forgotten war. Low on oxygen and with her hydration packs bone-dry, Monaca docked with a desperate prayer to the stars, her hands shaking as she forced the airlock cycles. Inside, the air was stale, smelling of ozone and ancient dust. In the mess hall, she found them: six men, their skin sallow from years of isolation. They were the stranded remnants of a dying crew. "Food... water..." Monaca rasped, her throat feeling like it was lined with broken glass.
The men looked at her with a terrifying hunger. The leader stepped forward. "We have supplies, girl. But we haven't seen a woman since the stars stopped being familiar. If you want to eat, you’re going to have to give us something we’ve forgotten the touch of." Monaca froze. She was hesitant, the "Ultimate Mage" within her recoiling. But looking at the empty abyss outside, she realized this was likely the last time she would ever see human men. **She thought to herself that if she was destined to die in the cold reaches of space, this might be her only chance to ever truly know what sex felt like—to experience the primal heat she had only ever observed from a distance.**
"Fine," she whispered. "But you’re filthy. You’ll use the ship’s water to shower and remove every scrap of hair from your bodies. I want to feel the warmth of humans, not the grit of a graveyard." The men obeyed with frantic energy. An hour later, they returned to the central bay, smooth and shivering. Monaca was waiting, her small frame looking fragile against the cold machinery. As she lay back on a metal medical table, the leader knelt between her legs. He stared in genuine, tearful awe. "My god," he breathed. "Your pussy... it’s the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. It’s the only part of this ship that’s alive."
The worship quickly turned into a frantic, dual assault. Before Monaca could prepare, two men moved in tandem. She let out a choked gasp as she felt the simultaneous stretch of two dicks forcing their way into her pussy at the same time. The combined girth was staggering, filling her anatomy to its absolute, agonizing limit. They began a synchronized, rhythmic hammering driven by primal need. The sensation of being doubled, her internal walls crushed by their collective weight, sent shockwaves through her. It was a brutal reclamation of life. The other four men crowded around her, their smooth bodies forming a wall of heat. They used her mouth and hands, ensuring every inch of the "Ultimate Mage" was occupied.
"Just let us feel you," one begged, his hairless chest slick with sweat. "Let us remember what it’s like to not be alone." Monaca closed her eyes, the cold metal beneath her and the heat above merging into one reality. She was a flickering candle in a hurricane of male need. As they filled her to the point of overflowing, her pussy distended and aching under the dual-caliber assault, she realized the price of survival was the total surrender of her body to the void's final, starving inhabitants.
**However, as the nights bled into weeks, the despair that had driven Monaca to the ship began to transform. She realized that returning to the lonely world she knew held no appeal compared to the absolute, worshipful attention she received here. She made a choice: she would stay. She would become the living heart of this derelict vessel.**
**Over time, a strict and carnal routine was established to keep the peace among the crew. A schedule was drafted to ensure Monaca was never lonely and the men were never starved of her touch. From Monday to Saturday, each individual member of the crew was assigned one full day to have her entirely to himself. They would spend twenty-four hours exploring every inch of her body, treating her like their personal queen and toy, worshiping her skin and petite frame in a rotating cycle of intimate devotion.**
**But the real highlight of their survival was Sunday. On the seventh day, the "Day of the Goddess," the schedule was discarded. All six men would gather in the central bay to feast upon her together. It was a day of absolute sensory overload, a grand gangbang where Monaca was kept in a state of constant, rhythmic occupation. They would fill every orifice, drench her in their collective release, and celebrate the fact that they were still alive in the dark. Monaca flourished in this role, her body becoming accustomed to the constant use and the heavy-caliber attention of her six hairless lovers. The "Ultimate Mage" had found a new throne, one made of flesh and heat, deep within the silent stars.**'
20

Monaca ❤️

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Extra Capte: A GIRL WITH A TRAGIC PAST.' with user description 'Mireya and Neli were enjoying their day off when suddenly they heard a terrifying scream coming from an alley.
There they found a demon attacking a girl. Neli quickly attacked the demon with a flying kick, while Mireya cast a spell that engulfed the demon in flames.
 The badly wounded demon ran off. Once they had calmed down, they asked the girl what had happened, and she told them her story.
My name is Elena Duboys; my mother recently died of an illness, and my father fell into a rage. I try to take my mother’s place with the housework so my father can recover from the loss. My father couldn’t bear the loss of his wife and was consumed by a demon that attacked him while he slept.
 Thanks to the fact that you happened to be passing by, you rescued her, but her father ended up being consumed by the demon. After hearing the story, Mireya invited her to the club, which led Elena to decide to live there, and she ended up cleaning up the mess left by the group members—mostly Neli, who is a disaster. The end.'
30

Extra Capte: A GIRL WITH A TRAGIC PAST.

crow-7w7
AI art 'Peko Casting' with user description 'The dojo was silent, save for the rhythmic dripping of melting snow from the eaves and the harsh, hurried breathing of Peko Pekoyama. She knelt on the cold tatami mats, her forehead pressed against the polished wood in a position of total supplication. Her silver hair, usually bound in disciplined braids, was a frayed mess, sticking to her neck with a mixture of sweat and a heavy, pearlescent sheen. Her dark uniform lay in shredded heaps around her, leaving her in nothing but the remnants of her white bandages.
"Young Master," she whispered, her voice a fractured rasp. "I have failed my purpose. The tool has been overridden by its own hidden nature."
She didn't look up. The shame was a physical weight, but beneath it, a terrifying, rhythmic pulse of heat still throbbed in her core.
"The mission to eliminate the ten rival swordsmen... it was a trap of pride," Peko continued, her fingers curling into the wood. "The bet was absolute. If I bested all ten in succession, they were to commit ritual suicide. I fought through nine of them, my blade a blur of silver. But the tenth... he used a hidden chemical agent. A paralytic mist that slowed my pulse, turning my limbs to lead. I lost. And the price was a 'Blackened Punishment' designed to dismantle the Ultimate Swordswoman."
She shivered, the memory of her blade snapping echoing in her mind.
"They gave me a choice: my life, or a total physical surrender. I chose the latter. I thought I could endure any trauma for the sake of the clan, but I was wrong about my own limits. They were relentless. The Gangbang lasted until the moon crossed the sky, and they treated my body like a training dummy to be conquered. They took me in every way imaginable, and to my absolute horror, my body began to betray my mind. The more they used me, the more the 'tool' started to feel... human. The friction, the heat... it sparked a fire I didn't know I carried."
Peko’s voice hitched, a small, involuntary moan escaping her.
"It was a physical exorcism of my discipline. At one point, to prove their total dominance, they combined their efforts. I felt my internal boundaries shatter as they forced three members inside my Anal passage at the same time. The sheer scale of it was impossible, stretching me until I thought I would break, but instead... I cummed. I reached a shattering, involuntary climax that shook my entire frame. I wasn't just being punished; I was being awakened. I was no longer a person or a weapon, just a void being filled by the very men I had failed to kill, and I was begging for every drop."
She squeezed her eyes shut, the images of her own distended abdomen and her trembling, wide-spread legs burning behind her lids.
"The finale was the most debasing," Peko whispered, her breath hitching. "They lined up and forced me into a continuous, brutal Deepthroat. They held my head by the hair, forcing me to take every inch of them. And then... the release. They finished inside me, one after another, a relentless tide of white tribute that filled my stomach and my throat to the point of bursting. I felt the pressure building behind my eyes, in my sinuses..."
> I can still feel the warmth... Peko thought, her mind spiraling. It was so much. My womb was heavy, my stomach was distended, and then my throat became a reservoir. I tried to swallow it all, to be the 'loyal tool' even in my ruin, but the volume was supernatural.
> 
"It overflowed, Young Master," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of trauma and a dazed, blissful heat. "There was so much cum that it couldn't stay contained. It began to vomit back up, surging through my nose and trickling from my ears. I was internally saturated, drowning in the evidence of my own defeat and my own hidden pleasure."
Peko finally looked up, her red eyes dazed and bloodshot. Her mouth was slightly open, and even now, a thick, white trail of fluid leaked from the corner of her lip, staining the tatami. She was completely gaped, her pussy and rear remaining wide, pulsing circles that could not close after the scale of the assault.
"I am no longer a sharp blade," she whispered, a dazed, shattered smile finally touching her lips. "I am a vessel that has been filled to the absolute brim. And the worst part, Young Master... is that I have never felt more complete."'
30

Peko Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art 'Hana' with user description 'On a previous post I tested a few styles on a character. MHA really stood out to me as very distinct, so I dropped the character in universe. Maybe some of you can try as well.

Hero Name: 
Charm Weaver

つきよみ はな
月読花
Tsukiyomi Hana


Birthday: 10/30
Height: 167cm
Quirk: Siren's Call

Tsukiyomi Hana
Siren's Call allows the user to emit vocalizations that subtly influence the emotions and desires of those who hear them. The Quirk manifests as an innate vocal charisma, with the user's voice possessing a mesmerizing quality. When activated intentionally, the user can fine-tune their voice to evoke specific, pre-determined emotional states in individuals or small groups, such as a desire for peace, a feeling of calm, or even a sense of attraction. This is not mind control, but rather a potent emotional suggestion.'
29
AI art "Black cat session"
3

Black cat session

bunit1214
AI art 'Mikan Casting' with user description 'Mikan Tsumiki sat on the edge of the sterile clinic bed, her fingers trembling as she nervously twisted the hem of her apron. Beside her, Chiaki Nanami sat with her usual calm, tilting her head as she listened to the nurse’s unusually frantic, yet strangely wistful, rambling. The African sun beat down outside the open window, but the air inside was thick with Mikan’s embarrassment and a lingering, dazed heat.
"C-Chiaki-san, you won't believe what happened when I was volunteering at that hospital... in that faraway country," Mikan began, her face flushed a deep, bruised crimson. "I was so lonely and... and desperate for someone to look at me without hating me. One of my patients, a very kind old man, saw how much I tripped and fell. He told me a local legend... he said that if a girl goes seven days without wearing any panties to work, the man of her life would finally appear and claim her."
Chiaki blinked, her expression unreadable. "Seven days... that seems like a high-risk strategy for someone as clumsy as you, Mikan-san."
"I know! I was so scared!" Mikan wailed, her eyes tearing up. "But I did it. For six days, I went to that hospital completely bare under my skirt. And every single day, I tripped. I fell over gurneys, I slipped on spilled saline... everyone saw everything. I was so humiliated, but I kept thinking about the legend. Then... the seventh day came."
Mikan’s breathing hitched, her hands moving to her lap as if to shield herself from the memory. "I was carrying a tray of bandages through the main ward when my heel caught on a floor tile. I did my most pathetic fall yet—legs wide, skirt up over my waist, exposing my **Pussy** to the entire room. But instead of laughing or looking away... they all stopped. Doctors, orderlies, even some of the recovering patients. They all stood up and... and they took their penises out. They told me the legend was true, and that they were all there to 'evaluate' me."
"Evaluate you?" Chiaki asked softly.
"I-It was consensual, I promise! I wanted it so badly! I wanted to be needed!" Mikan cried out, her voice dropping to a shamed whisper. "The **Gangbang** started right there on the ward floor. It was a total physical exorcism. I was surrounded by dozens of men. They started with a relentless **Fellatio** circuit. I was forced into a **Deepthroat** by the lead surgeon, then an orderly... it was a continuous stream of flesh. My jaw ached, but I didn't care. I felt so useful."
Mikan’s eyes rolled back slightly, lost in the sensory overload of the memory. "Then they moved to the rest of me. Because there were so many of them, they decided to maximize my capacity. I was subjected to a **Double Penetration** that felt like it was rearranging my very soul. I had a doctor in my **Anus** and a patient in my pussy at the same time. The girth of them... the way they moved in opposite rhythms... it stretched my frame until I thought I would break. I was screaming, Chiaki-san! I was **cumming** so hard my vision went white, but they wouldn't let me stop."
"That sounds... intense," Chiaki noted.
"It was a massacre of my inhibitions!" Mikan gasped. "They rotated for hours. I was being used by every man in that building. And the finale... it was a **Bukkake** like nothing I’ve ever seen. They lined up, a wall of men, and they all unleashed their **cum** directly into my throat and over my face. It was a white tidal wave. It covered my face, my hair, my uniform... it was even in my eyes. I was drowning in it."
Mikan leaned closer to Chiaki, her expression a mix of terror and a dazed, broken smile. "But Chiaki-san... the legend said the man of my life would appear. But they *all* did it. They all finished inside me and over me. The fluid began to overflow. Because they held my mouth shut to ensure every drop was delivered, the pressure forced the warm, white cream through my sinuses. I felt the stinging heat of **cum** leaking from my **nose**, and a faint, trickling warmth even reached my **ears**. I was internally flooded. The problem is... I don't know which one of them is the one! I don't know who my husband is supposed to be because I loved what all of them did to me! What do I do? Am I supposed to marry all of them?"
Chiaki reached out and patted Mikan’s hand. "I think... you might have just won a very complicated multiplayer game, Mikan-san."'
21

Mikan Casting

blackhairedstudent
AI art
24

ไม่มีชื่อ

ririfake
ภาษา
มุมมอง
ภาพในกริด
เติมพรอมต์อัตโนมัติ
ตัวกรองเนื้อหา
ไอคอนรับเครดิตรายวัน: แก้วว่างเปล่า
รับเครดิตรายวัน
วันนี้
S
+3
M
+4
T
+5
W
+6
T
+7
F
+8
S
+9
รับเครดิตทุกวันเพื่อรับโบนัส!