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mirkfkf is Following

15 following

zuzul

3,425 followers • 32 following

I particularly like aesthetic and "cute" creations more than hardcore ones. I found a lot of inspiration from the community creations.

AI art "Kali"

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Kali

AI art "Light outfits"

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Light outfits

AI art "Market outfits"

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Market outfits

AI art "Tifa : gun mode"

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Tifa : gun mode

0near5

12 followers • 0 following

AI art

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dreamerofdreams

320 followers • 50 following

I love incorporating ideas from comments into future posts. I'm overflowing with credits, let me know what you want! Like, comment and follow for more!

AI art "Succubus #4"

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Succubus #4

AI art "Succubus #3"

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Succubus #3

AI art "Succubus #2"

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Succubus #2

AI art "Succubus #1"

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Succubus #1

octavian

2,335 followers • 35 following

The future King of Interracial Hentai. Check out my 'Cyndel Vale needs money' series, just search her name in the explorer. I'm a huge anime and hentai fan. Definitely like to show love to the anime girls that don't get enough love! Drop me a comment or a like so I can get better. Thanks.

AI art "Cyndel Vale needs the money 11"

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Cyndel Vale needs the money 11

AI art 'Belle versus Moana' with user description 'Ariel's Knight Captain Belle clashes with the Beach Barbarian Moana!

“You chose the wrong side, island girl,” Belle called out, voice cutting through the storm with sharp authority. “The old ways built these kingdoms. You cannot simply tear them down because you feel the ocean tugging at your leash.”

“Old ways?” she shouted back, spinning her oar once with effortless strength. “Your books and your balls and your pretty little castles left my people starving while you played princess. The ocean chose me. And tonight… she’s hungry.”

Their bodies collided hard. Their eyes met, inches apart. Hatred… and something far more dangerous.

Belle’s voice came out low and rough. “I will bind you in chains of law and reason if I have to.”

Moana’s lips curved into a wicked, aroused smile. “Try it, bookworm. I’ll drag you under and make you scream for the tide.”

Then the grapple exploded again—swords clashing, clubs swinging, bodies slamming together in the mud and rain with wet, violent, intimate force.'

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Belle versus Moana

AI art 'Elsa stands against Ariel' with user description 'The private bathing chamber deep within the frozen spires of Arendelle Castle as Elsa bathed.
"This is nice and peaceful," she whispered to herself.

She stepped out of the pool without bothering with a towel. The cold never bothered her anyway.

A single gesture and shimmering ice crystals formed around her body, swirling like affectionate hands. They wove themselves into the fabric of her battle-ready dress: a sleek, high-slit gown of deepest midnight blue and crystalline white. The bodice was tight, almost corset-like, pushing her breasts upward into a breathtaking, icy display while leaving her shoulders and a daring expanse of cleavage bare.

Then the lightning flashed.
Through the tall arched windows of ice, the horizon lit up in violent electric blue. A massive storm was rolling in from the sea—unnaturally fast, unnaturally furious. Thunder rolled like distant war drums. Rain began to hammer against the frozen walls.

Ariel.

Elsa’s ice-blue eyes narrowed, a slow, dangerous smile curving her lips. The little mermaid had finally made her move. The signal was unmistakable: the war had begun.

She turned away from the window and extended her hand. From the frost-covered pedestal rose her magic ice staff—taller than she was, crowned with a cruel, multifaceted spire of diamond-hard ice that pulsed with contained power.

“Rapunzel,” she whispered into the cold air. “Moana. Merida. Tiana. Belle.” Names of the newer spirits, the wild ones, the ones who chafed under the old order of the “classic” princesses. “It’s time.”

She planted the ice staff into the ground. A ring of jagged ice spikes erupted outward, claiming the courtyard as her first territory.

“If it’s war you want, Ariel,” she called out into the howling wind, her voice carrying across the fjord with crystalline clarity, “then I will let it all go.”'

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Elsa stands against Ariel

AI art 'Wrath of the Princesses 1 - Ariel' with user description 'The depths of the ocean were silent, heavy, and intimate.

Ariel moved through the glowing kelp forest, her long, fiery red hair floated around her naked body in silken waves, brushing against her breasts and the curve of her hips.

The water caressed her like a lover—she had always loved this feeling. Tonight, it felt like foreplay before violence.

She reached the hidden coral vault where the Sea King’s relics waited. With a flick of her wrist, the enchanted clamshell doors opened. Inside lay her armor.

Ariel ran her fingers along the cold metal, feeling it warm to her touch. She smiled, sharp and hungry.
Last, she took the trident.

The weapon hummed with ancient power as her webbed fingers closed around its shaft. She spun it once, cutting the water with a low thrum that sent schools of fish fleeing in terror.

“Time to play,” she whispered, voice distorted beautifully underwater.

With a surge of her power, Ariel shot upward.
She broke the surface at the exact moment the sun kissed the horizon. The beach was empty—pristine white sand stretching toward the distance. Perfect.

Saltwater streamed down her body, tracing the deep valley between her breasts, sliding over the muscles of her stomach, and dripping from the hem of her scandalously short armored skirt.

She tilted her head back, eyes glowing an unnatural aquamarine. Then she activated her water magic.
The sea answered with savage joy.

She threw her head back and screamed into the tempest, voice carrying over the thunder with raw, seductive power:

“I am Ariel, daughter of the sea!
The tides rise for me.
The lightning bends to me.
Come, sisters…
Come and drown with me!”

The massive storm rolled toward the ruined coliseum like a living thing—rain turning the ground to mud, wind tearing at distant banners, lightning promising that the first blood of the war would be drawn in water and fury.

Ariel lowered the trident, a dark, aroused smile curving her lips as rain streamed down her face and between her breasts.

The war had begun.'

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Wrath of the Princesses 1 - Ariel

crn055-null2471

146 followers • 171 following

Human.

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gbob22

199 followers • 37 following

AI art

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betterthangrok

30 followers • 15 following

AI art "Bj"

Bj

AI art "Bj"

Bj

AI art "Deepthroat"

Deepthroat

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Bj

gengoofball

75 followers • 23 following

Big hoyo game fan

AI art 'bennet the 6 star dominating the pryo archeron'

bennet the 6 star dominating the pryo archeron

AI art "oh, ningguang and beidou married. While both cheated on each other with kazuha"

oh, ningguang and beidou married. While both cheated on each other with kazuha

AI art 'nope, ninguang is cheating with kazuha'

nope, ninguang is cheating with kazuha

AI art "congrats to kazuha and beidou"

congrats to kazuha and beidou

waars

116 followers • 34 following

AI art 'MIKU'

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MIKU

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hyeonb

106 followers • 8 following

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nekozzie

1,384 followers • 8 following

Just another man of culture. I take requests. My name = Neko: 😺 - Ozzie: 🇦🇺

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noahmode

55 followers • 24 following

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blackhairedstudent

734 followers • 17 following

Hey guys 💙 Your support means the world to me if you like my work leave the like and follow, love you guys and keep creative ❤️ Thank you for being here. I like all kinds of shit.. from softcore to extreme gangbang. If the image turns out good I'll make post with it...

AI art 'Sakura Feet'

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Sakura Feet

AI art 'Nagatoro Feet ❤️'

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Nagatoro Feet ❤️

AI art 'Mukuro Casting' with user description 'The air in the bedroom was cloying, smelling of strawberry-scented air freshener and old, festering grief. Mukuro Ikusaba lay on a frilly, pink duvet, her limbs as heavy as lead. She had been captured during a routine sweep; she hadn't expected a localized EMP trap and a high-grade neurotoxin dart hidden in a common mailbox. It was a sloppy mistake for the Ultimate Soldier, but even she hadn't accounted for the suicidal desperation of a man with nothing left to lose.
The father stood over her, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with a terrifying, manic hope. Beside him stood his son, who looked at Mukuro with a mixture of loathing and hollow obedience. "This was my daughter’s room," the father whispered, gesturing to the stuffed animals lining the shelves. "She died in the blast you set. You erased her future. So, you’re going to give it back. You’re going to stay in this room, and you’re going to give me another daughter. You’ll stay alive until she’s born and celebrates her first birthday. Until then, you’re just a vessel."
He leaned down, his voice trembling. "I’ve given you a high-dose muscular relaxant. You can’t fight. You’ll feel every moment of what comes next, but you won't be able to lift a finger to stop us."
For nine months, the pink room became a sensory prison. Mukuro lived in a state of chemical paralysis, her body forced to endure the relentless, grief-fueled assaults of the father and the quiet, bitter turns taken by the son. She watched her own body change, her abdomen swelling with a life she never asked for. Even as her belly became a massive, taut curve that made every breath a struggle, they didn't stop. They treated her like a communal womb, their lust fueled by the twisted logic of replacing the dead.
The father’s face was a mask of jagged, weeping lines as he leaned over Mukuro’s paralyzed form during the final weeks of her confinement. He didn’t touch her with lust; he touched her with a cold, possessive resentment, his hand pressing firmly against her distended navel.
"How many, Mukuro?" he whispered, his breath smelling of bitter coffee and despair. "How many children were in that elementary school when you triggered the blast? Did you hear them? Did you hear the sound of the future being snuffed out in a single second? My daughter had a lead role in the spring play. She was supposed to be a princess. Now she's just ash in a jar on my mantel."
Mukuro’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling, the muscular relaxant keeping her a silent witness to his breakdown.
"You think this is a punishment?" the father continued, his voice cracking as he unbuckled his belt for the sixth time that day. "This is a mercy. You killed a world, so I’m making you build a new one. But don't think for a second that this makes us even. You deserve worse than this. You deserve to be used until your bones turn to dust. You deserve to be nothing more than a hole that never closes, a vessel that never empties. Every time my son and I take turns on you, I imagine I’m reclaiming a piece of the life you stole."
He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "My son hates you even more than I do. He doesn't see a girl; he sees the monster that took his sister. When he's inside you, he isn't looking for pleasure. He's looking for revenge. And I’m going to make sure he gets it, every single day, until that baby girl is born and we finally have our family back."
Then, the door didn't open for a feeding—it exploded.
Junko Enoshima stepped over the charred remains of the father and son, her heels clicking on the pink carpet. She looked down at Mukuro, who lay there with her nine-month belly exposed, her eyes tracking her sister with a flicker of recognition.
"Hey, Sis! Wow, look at you," Junko chirped, poking Mukuro’s stomach with a manicured finger. "You’ve really grown into the role of 'Traumatized Broodmother.' It’s such a look! I was actually going to bust you out on day one, you know? But then I heard that guy’s plan through the hidden mics, and I thought it would be just *delicious* to be an auntie!"
Mukuro’s voice was a dry, unused rasp as the relaxant finally began to wear off. "You... you could have saved me months ago. After I got pregnant... why did you wait?"
Junko let out a high-pitched laugh. "Oh, Mukuro! I was just dying to see how long that man's despair could actually last! I mean, watching him try to replace a dead kid with a new one while staying totally obsessed with using you? Pure art! I had to see the limit of his desperation. He really leaned into that whole 'you deserve worse' angle—it was so dramatic, so cliché, so *perfectly* despair-inducing!"
She leaned in, a mischievous smirk on her face. "Besides, I figured your pussy must be absolutely legendary for them to keep coming back for more! I mean, they fucked you more than five times every single day for nine months straight! That’s over thirteen hundred sessions, Sis! If your pussy is that tasty, I couldn't just cut the 'buffet' line short, right?'

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Mukuro Casting

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.'

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Marin Gangbang

kokoroto

3,710 followers • 10 following

AI art 'Upscale test'

Upscale test

AI art 'Chun Li Mix' with user description 'A mix of some of the things I have to post, and this is just the Chun Li stuff... but I don't like the new algorithm; when they change it, I'll go back to posting full works.'

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Chun Li Mix

AI art 'Kaguya Hime.'

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Kaguya Hime.

AI art 'Akira slide'

Akira slide

saltymajor778

272 followers • 20 following

AI art 'A Beautiful Arrangement' with user description '"Flowers are the silent language of love, and women are its most exquisite symbol." --Unknown'

A Beautiful Arrangement

AI art 'Milf Marian' with user description 'If you must know, yes, I'm a MILF (and yes, I saw "American Pie," thank you very much). My name is Marian. My ex-husband dumped me for a goth girl with small tits, my only son is serving in the Navy, and I'm very much alone. Being alone, though, doesn't bother me. I get plenty of attention from younger guys. They're fun to be with, they're very polite, and they're horny little devils. They certainly make life interesting...'

Milf Marian

AI art 'Devoted To Each Other' with user description 'Sheryl and Rosie are a very happy twosome. They complement each other in ways great and small. Their affection for each other is boundless.'

Devoted To Each Other

AI art 'Meet Vonris' with user description 'In a long-gone civilization, a pantheon of gods existed, similar to those of the Ancient Greeks and Romans. This particular pantheon, however, had Vonris, a demigoddess. Vonris, according to ancient manuscripts, was associated with fertility. Vonris was described as a demigoddess with male genitalia, which would mark her today as a futanari. Vonris was associated with the spring equinox, as her adherents felt her ejaculation ritual was a harbinger of plenty in areas as diverse as crop production and human birthrate. This particular civilization lasted less than a century, as it was absorbed by a more powerful and robust civilization.'

Meet Vonris