Like imagine you're my coworker and offer to help me, I just gladly say sure and dont ask questions until you come up behind me and pin my hips to the table and start rubbing me through my pants, shushing me when I try to ask what you're doing and listening as I start breathing heavy and whimpering
I really like your transformation work
would you do a doll transformation one?
maybe you encounter a kind fae but accidentally insult them, so you offer to remedy it with your body and you get turned into a doll
or an orc finds an abandoned toy and decides to try and fix it up idk i really like terato
Kabr0z Writes episode 52: Doll
Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!
CWs: transformation; dubcon; noncon; immobilisation; loss of agency; PIV sex; doll transformation
A/N: there's one problem with fucking a doll: dolls are rigid and generally speaking, quite smooth in the nether regions... Although, rubber solves most problems.
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Your teacup clattered to the ground. The forest around you, so previously verdant and full of life, was dead and dark, the illusion fading, showing you the real. The toymaker stood up from his seat, still holding his teacup in a many-fingered hand.
"Don't you know it's rude to point?"
You don't remember pointing at him, or anyone really, all you could do was back away from the oncoming Fae, trying your best to apologise. "I am sorry, I hadn't realised, I'm sure there's some way for me to make it up to you?"
The toymaker smiled, showing far too many teeth. "I'm sure there is... Hold still, my doll"
You stopped backing away. That's when you realised your mistake. You'd told it to call you Tess. You'd just answered to a name that isn't the one you'd made safe for yourself.
You tried to run. Your feet wouldn't move. Your body stood, statue-like as the toymaker approached and started running his fingers over your skin.
Where he touched felt cold, you could only move your eyes to look. You couldn't see your flesh transmuting to painted cedar, your bones to threaded metal rods. You could feel your joints stiffening, turning to hinges and ball joints which he delicately squirted a little oil into before testing the smooth movement.
The wood spread across you, replacing flesh, changing bone. It reached your heart. A keyhole formed in the middle of your back, a clockwork motor replacing where your heart was. You could feel the mainspring, loose and idle. Lethargy flooded you. You couldn't move at all as your eyes became glass and your brain turned to straw. Your thoughts clouded. The fear left you, the memory of who you used to be becoming more distant. The toymaker stood in front of you, looking over his work as you stood in your dress, arms held slightly away from your body. It stepped around you, grasping the key in your back and giving it a few brisk turns.
The governor in your chest started up, balance spring setting a perfect rhythm, the faint ticking echoing into your head, clearing your thoughts. Your limbs loosened, life filling them.
You ran. The toymaker laughed as you went, until he was out of sight. Behind a tree, you took stock. Wooden, now. You'll probably want to avoid naked flames in future. Your hands slid across your body. Touching your glass eyes didn't hurt, which was a plus, all your joints worked, but you could feel the mainspring in your chest getting weaker as it lost tension.
You stretched to reach it, reaching around your back, sticking out your wooden chest as you did. You fell to your knees, fingers scrambling to turn the key as it ticked down moments.
The spring ran out. The governor stopped and so did you.
Your arms stopped in place, joints stiffening. Your thoughts stopped too, calming to a stupid placidity. You saw the toymaker coming towards you, felt his hand fix your hair, heard his footsteps as he walked away, continuing down the path.
Time didn't have meaning any more. You knelt on the ground, your petticoat was getting dirty, but you couldn't move.
A figure approached. A big lumbering man carrying a club. His green skin covered by by furs. The orc saw you, walking over. He grabbed you in one hand, lifting you by an arm. He looked into your eyes. Without clockwork power, you couldn't speak.
The orc pushed a hand up your skirts. You felt his hand brush against your rubber cunt, slipping a thick finger between the moulded lips and into the hole. Despite being wood, metal and rubber, you felt yourself producing fluid. His hand came away wet, a thin film of your pussy juice on his finger.
He ripped off your skirts, exposing your finely carved thighs, shining white wood exposed to the outside. Your body hung limp from his hands as he pushed his cock into you.
He thrust into you, holding you at his waist as he did, using your body as your head lolled and your limbs hung limp. You could feel yourself stretching around him, feeling so close, but unable to move, to even make a peep.
His pumping got harder, fucking you harder. You felt him twitching and throbbing in you before pumping out a load of his cum, grinding his hips into yours, forcing himself as deep as he could.
Pleasure flooded your mind, the world reducing to hazy shapes as the orc filled you. The euphoria only deepening as he slung your body over his shoulder, your leaking cunt dripping his cum onto the ground behind him as he carried you off. You were made to be owned.
After all, the purpose of a doll is to be played with
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Thanks for the request, anon! Hopefully it's everything you wanted
If you have a request, please send a DM or an ask, and I'll see what I can make out of it! There's a bit of a wait, bit it's still projected to be less than a month (though I can't promise how long that'll last)
Love your work, new fan but big fan, I have an Idea for a centaur x fem criminal story
Basically she has a bounty on her head and can't go through the city gates to escape, a centaur offers her a way out, but she has to be strapped to his underbelly while he wears a centaur sized robe/coat/whatever to get past the guards.
Also she has to take her armor off so theres no sound of chainmail to give them away, so she's totally nude under there, nothing between her bare pussy and the centaurs cock. Which was exactly what the centaur wanted all along ;3
Kabr0z Writes episode 51: Daring Escape
Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!
CWs: dubcon; noncon; size difference; belly-riding; creampie; implied impregnation; cum inflation
A/N: This one looks like fun! I always love a centaur being involved, especially when I can make them as downright unpleasant as Hellenic myth depicts them.
They're meanies.
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The job went near flawlessly. You broke into the castle, cased the joint, got to the war room and learned which routes the army would be travelling. Once the rebellion gets that, they'll have the King by the balls and finally turn the tide. One problem: they saw your face on the way out. Now you're here, in a stinking cistern, propping up a thieves' guild bar. A head full of priceless intel, that you can't risk getting out, only a dwindling handful of copper to your name, and no way out of the city gates.
You could try sneaking out over a wall, but the wards would stop that short. Maybe try sneaking into a grain carriage? You shook your head, no faster way to get a spear thrust through you. You motioned for another drink. You're dead if you stay, dead if you try to leave. You might as well be dead with a bellyful of whatever pigswill grog they serve here.
A man sat on the stool next to you and spoke "Ever heard of the Wizard Porthos?"
The sign, you knew the response "He rules over Doissetep"
The man nodded, and got up. A piece of parchment lay where he was sat. You palmed it, casually finished your drink and went to an alcove, looking like just another drunk going for a piss.
The light was horrible here, but the enchanted ink glowed ever so subtly: "Seek the hunter under the moon"
You had another round, then left the cistern. It was already night out, but this wasn't the moon you needed. Picking your way across the city you found it. The temple of Luna. Empty at this time of night but for a figure, shrouded in dark. You slid through the door, chainmail clinking gently as you padded in on soft-soled shoes. Your turn to speak this time. "Ever heard of the Wizard Porthos?"
The figure rose. A centaur, the shape of a bow slung across his broad back. "He rules over Doissetep"
You relaxed. Either this centaur was in the resistance, or the whole operation had huge problems
"I hear you need a hand getting out of the city? I'll help, but it won't be easy, or particularly dignified"
You nodded at the centaur. What could you do but hear him out?
"I have a sealskin, when the weather looks bad I wear it. It comes down to about my knees"
You could see where this was going "So you strap me to your belly, and we just walk out?" It was genius in its way. Centaurs hate passengers at the best of times, so checking underneath one's cloak for a fugitive just seems silly. Hopefully the guards would have the same thought process, and even if they didn't, you'd have a four hoofed companion to help run you out of danger.
"One snag though. I heard your armour when you walked in, that'll only be worse when you're under me. I can get it smuggled out separately, but it won't be on you."
"I didn't exactly bring a change of clothes" you weren't supposed to be in the city more than a couple of hours, so luggage wasn't a consideration, besides, travelling light made more sense in the wilderness.
"So you'll be naked. Suck it up, Buttercup. And get some sleep, you've got a big day tomorrow."
You couldn't afford not to take his offer. Laying down next to him, you got as much rest as you could.
It was raining the next morning, the cold predawn light seeping in through the windows. The man from the cistern was there, carrying several loops of rope, a hessian sack and a sealskin. Everything you'd need.
You started to strip. Months in the resistance had beaten any bashfulness out of you, and so you didn't mind the two men seeing your naked body. You could still feel their eyes on you, your boyish hips, slim waist, small tits, not to mention your long, muscular limbs. You glared at them as you stood in the chilly air, feeling your nipples harden in the cold as they started fastening ropes around the centaur's chestnut-furred torso
At last it was time for the finishing touches. You, then the sealskin to hide everything.
"Face up or down?" The cistern man looked over at you "I reckon down, it's a little less comfortable on the limbs, but you won't have a faceful of fur."
You nodded. You've never done this before, but if smuggling resistance members was these people's trade, they probably knew that they're about. Climbing under the centaur you allowed yourself to be tied into place.
The ropes were rough, and itched as they strung around you. Your arms were bound backwards, bent to follow the contours of the equine body, your legs open and lifted behind you, knees bent and ankles secured above. The rest of you was held on with loops of rope, keeping you tight to the centaur and taking some weight off your limbs.
Finally came the sealskin. It hid you entirely, padding disguising your silhouette and the skirts preventing you seeing anything but the flagstones below you.
You heard the cistern man say something to the centaur, but couldn't hear what. They both laughed then the centaur started to walk. He wasn't wrong about your armour. Even trussed up as tight as you were to the horse belly, you were being fiercely shaken. Chain would have been so noisy you might as well have given yourself up.
So you watched the cobbles pass below you. The sound of the rain echoing in your ears as it got heavier. At least you were staying dry under here.
You noticed something. Hanging down from between the centaur's back legs. You stifled a gasp to look at it, his huge semi-hard member dangling down. It swung to and fro with the movement of the trotting centaur, occasionally rearing up to be perilously close to your vulnerable crotch. You could smell it. The warm, tangy scent of his unsheathed member invading your nostrils, moistening your lower lips. It wasn't going down. It gathered length with every swing.
It swung up, pressing against your cunt. Again and again. It pressed hard against the entrance. You felt yourself moving, the centaur was shaking himself, shimmying you down. The expertly tied knots allowing you to slide towards his crotch, cinching tighter and stopping you going the other way. Little by little the flare of his cock was pressing harder and harder against your opening, the steady trickle of precum lubing your hole.
It went in. You stifled a yelp. Who knows what was around you, alerting a guard would be lethal.
Still, the shaking pressed you down. Inch by inch the cock pushing in, your cunt not having a choice but to accept it. You bit your tongue, desperate to stay silent as the cock twitched and pulsed in you. You could feel the flare on the end growing, pressing outwards inside you.
The centaur's chest tightened. His cock stiffened and his hips bucked. Hot liquid started flowing into you in waves. The flare held it in as your womb filled. He stayed hard. You could feel it stuck in you. The flare was receding, but the thickness of it let the cum inside.
You shuddered, the feeling of fullness was sending waves of pleasure up your body. The taste of blood filled your mouth as you bit down harder, cutting your tongue on your teeth, desperately trying not to moan.
Voices "Off out today, are we?"
"Hunting. I expect to be back before nightfall"
"Damn poor weather for it"
The cock pulsed in you again. You clenched your body against the urge to moan
"Best time for it. Scent doesn't travel as well in the rain"
"Very well. Wait here."
Another twitch of your cunt, another throb of that cock. Every time you moved, it moved. Every time it moved, your cunt clenched on it. You could feel your eager body trying to milk the huge cock inside you, even as you desperately tried to think of something, anything else.
You ran over the battle plans in your head. The cock throbbed, and you couldn't focus. You planned your travel once you got away. The centaur shuddered, and your thoughts became phallic. You tried to remember the faces of your family back home. Your cunt clenched. The flare surged outwards. Again, cum flowed into you. You felt your skin stretching. The cock plugging you stopped it flowing out. Your belly grew slightly, over-full of hot equine cum.
The centaur's orgasm passed, and the flare receded again. He still wasn't moving, waiting as the guards checked and double checked his papers.
You could feel your belly pushing, trying to force the excess cum out. It was going to start leaking out, if it pooled on the ground, the guards might check under the sealskin.
You didn't have a choice.
You clenched your jaw. Squeezing your cunt as tightly as you could, you rocked your hips. You could hear yourself starting to pant with exertion, you hoped the guards couldn't over the rain. You felt the cock throb and twitch in you, but it had already came twice. It was in danger of going soft, pulling out as it did. You couldn't let that happen.
You quickened your pace, rolling your hips up and down, clenching strategically. You fucked him hard, rubbing the engorged head of his cock against your cervix. His back hoof was clopping on the ground. You could feel his cock thicken. It was nearly there. The flare expanded again
"All in order, you can go"
The centaur staggered on. Steps as regular as he could manage while riding the cusp of pumping another load into you. The cobbles gave way to dirt path. You heard him grunt loudly above you.
He came less this time, but it was still enough to push your belly out further. You allowed yourself a moan, taking deep, racking breaths as the last of the centaur's cum was forced in.
On he walked, the cock softening and dropping out, followed by a jet of cum pouring from your cunt. It left a trail on the road behind you, a thick puddle on the already sodden ground
You made it to the rendezvous with the man from the cistern, who cut your ropes.
You fell to the muddy ground. Limbs tingling as feeling returned.
"She give you any trouble?"
"No" the centaur replied "she knew what was good for her, even got desperate enough for it to get me off all on her own"
They laughed as they walked off together. You lay there, oozing. Your kit was piled in the grass next to you, probably minus whatever money you had.
At least you got out
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As we approach the end of February and volume 1 of Kabr0z Writes, I remind you all that commissions are free and open, just be aware there is a queue, so it may be some time until you see your request.
Most people send requests anonymously, so do feel free to send as many as you like! (I'm also loving how many people are sending in requests for bad things to happen to the Chitinids. I'm so happy I've made villains people love to hate ♥️)
Though…. While I wait for the dough to cool.
CW: Christmas themed fucking, bestiality, Santa
I’ve been having this fantasy of being on Santa’s naughty list. But instead of putting coal in my stocking, he stuffs me in his sack and kidnaps me.
Inside, I’m wrapped up in bows and wrapping paper. Immobilizing me, preventing me from screaming, moving, or trying to escape.
When he thinks I’m ready, he takes me out of his sack and merrily ties me to the underbelly of one of his reindeer. Stuffs onto their reindeer cock like a good little cockwarmer and takes off.
I proceed to be fucked over and over above the clouds and over cities. Cumming and dripping on reindeer cock. It seems to enjoy the heat of my cunt too, thrusting inside when we land and cumming into my stuffed womb.
I’m not the only naughty whore on Santa’s list either. Others join with me, moaning and crying as their cunts and holes are ruined by reindeer cock.
At the end of the night we’re taken off and shoved back into the sack, our bodies once more wrapped up in pretty wrapping paper and bows. We’re then left under the Christmas tree of our own home, bloated and dripping of reindeer cum, to be found in the morning.
So within two days of each other, Fox News writes an article comparing aromanticism and asexuality to pedophilia, and then Matt Walsh releases a video saying asexuality is a mental illness and asexuals are tricking teenagers into having depression.
Not sure what’s going on right now over in Conservative World, but it’s a hell of wild U-turn for them to suddenly switch from “Oh no! The left is sexualizing our children!” to “Oh no! The left is asexualizing our children!”
A big kink for me that i never see anyone else talking about is belly riding.
Like yes step me onto the bottom of a dragon or centaur or beast and just be a good little cock sleeve. We could travel for miles, days, and just whenever he feels like fucking me he doesn't even have to move. Just humps and I'm right there waiting
And when he's done just leave his limp dick in me and continue on
.
Mimic sex toys. Like, in the middle of what you think is a solo sesh, the dildo just starts thrusting into you on its own and pumps you full of cum.
Imagine that middle aged coworker you keep leading on gets ahold of a portal pussy and connects it to you.
He'd start slow, teasing your little slit in the break room, watching you squirm in your seat across the room. Big rough fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. Increasing his assault gradually until you have to leave the room. He follows you into the restroom, where you've locked yourself into a stall. You couldn't help but hide in there to try and get yourself off. Your cunt practically dripping from his teasing. Your need outweighing the confusion and fear from what's happening to you. Your slick fingers make frantic little circles around your swollen clit, and you feel his fingers return, thick and rough as they feel around for your entrance. You whimper as they push in, both at once, stretching you too fast. He doesn't waste any time finding your g spot, making your eyes roll back as he rubs it. Your rubbing gets sloppier and more desperate. Hes unrelenting, picking up speed as he pushes you closer to the edge. Your legs shake, whimpering pathetically. You're so close, when suddenly, he stops. You whine and try to replace him with your own fingers. You rub and finger yourself for what feels like an hour and can't get yourself back to the edge, can't reach the places he could. You leave the bathroom defeated, with an ache in your lower half you can't seem to make go away.
He fully intends to pay you back for all the blue balls you've given him
CW: Non-Con, Aphrodisiac nectar/sap, Plant Monster
MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI
You knew this was a mistake.
Hiking—venturing into unknown trails—was definitely not something you would consider, much less actually do. But your friends, however well-intentioned they were, insisted that you needed to go out and explore, venture outside of your comfort zone.
And so, in order to please them, you booked a guide (nothing drastic, really). It was apparently beginner-friendly, with beautiful scenery and ‘untold’ sights—a glorified leisurely stroll. It sounded perfect for you, a wonderful plan, so you went.
It was nice, manageable until you somehow—miraculously, stupidly—got lost, strayed from the group long enough that they left you in the dust. Finding them should’ve been easy; there were paved trails and distinct signs, yet you managed to get even more lost.
You didn’t know how long you’d been wandering, but you were hungry, thirsty, and tired; you just wanted to rest. How did your friends let you go to this with your incredibly poor sense of direction? How did you let yourself go?
You paused at the sound of rushing water, concluding it was a good idea to follow (you were dying for a sip of water.) It didn’t take long for you to find the source—the walk was not long at all, as if you were already heading in the right direction anyway as if something was already luring you there before the sound.
You stopped at a gate, seemingly golden and decorated with roses. It appears to be well-kept, no tarnish to be seen. Why exactly is there a random gate in the middle of nowhere?
With just the slightest touch, the gate creaked open (you could’ve hopped over easily if it didn’t), and you, with hesitance and confusion, entered. It was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before: a breathtaking garden full of flowers and trees filled with leaves and fruits. It was beautiful. The subtle scent of fruit and nectar only lured you closer.
The waterfall was the first thing you reached. You cupped your hands into a bowl to collect the water, drinking until you were no longer parched. Then you continued, admiring the colorful plants along the way.
You could feel your fatigue leaving you with each step, with each breath of air, yet the deeper you entered the oddly enchanting garden, the sweeter the air became—enticing. You didn’t hear the gate close behind you, too entranced by the view.
Your stomach grumbled, and all you could do was comply with your hunger, plucking a succulent fruit from one of the trees. The fruit was odd, unknown to you; it should’ve made you pause—sunk caution into your bones—but it didn’t. You were hungry before, but now, with fruit in hand, you were starving.
Your teeth pierced its flesh, its juices sliding down your throat as you devoured it. It was mouthwatering, a taste you had never known but now can never forget. You reached for another, and another, and another until you were full—stomach feeling as if it’s one fruit away from bursting. You took a seat, leaning against the trunk of the tree and resting.
You were worried about how you would get back, but you figured (in an attempt to stay positive) that they would eventually send out a search party and find you. After all, you found this place pretty easily, and you couldn't have strayed that far, right?
Your eyelids felt heavy; even with the sun still up, you felt exhaustion weighing on you. A small nap wouldn’t hurt.
You still felt so tired, not knowing you had already slept for jours. You felt warm, limbs heavy, and eyes feeling glued shut—wielded together with exhaustion and enervation. You didn’t move or shift; even if your mind was half awake, you couldn't.
That had a prickling thought of panic rising inside your brain, the rapid beating of your heart and the quickening of your breath being the only indication of your growing distress and anxiety. You couldn’t quite feel your surroundings, your sense of touch dulled, and the grass underneath you was not even a tickle.
A slight pressure met your lips, parting them delicately before slipping inside, stuffing your mouth full with its soft presence. A smooth substance glided down your throat; its taste was sweet and intoxicating. You gulped it down with no resistance, mind growing hazier with each drop.
The muscles in your limbs loosened, relaxing them, making you malleable and compliant. The heaviness faded into something else. You could feel yourself growing hot, arousal pooling in your underwear.
Something wrapped around your body, tugging at your clothes and removing them—taking your soaked panties and leaving you exposed. The thing inside your mouth slid out with a pop, retreating.
Then it—whatever ‘it’ is—raised you in the air, holding you by your legs, blood rushing to your head. You should’ve been alarmed, but with a brain full of cotton, all you could focus on was the throbbing of your cunt. You pried your eyes open, petals filling your vision. Vines enveloped you, blossoming flowers adorning it as it held you upside down, wrists tied together.
It spread your legs, one vine poking and prodding at your folds, soaking in your arousal. More vines slithered to your chest, fondling your breasts and curling around your nipples.
You squirmed, breathy moans leaving you. The vines continued, some slipping past your folds, one pressing against your clit while the other worked you open. You never felt anything like this before, moaning and whimpering for more.
It slipped out, having you clench around nothing with a whine. A large white bud blossomed in front of you, revealing (something you would’ve questioned more had the nectar not done its job) a flowery cock. It’s throbbing and warm as it enters your hole, fucking you with vigor and filling you with its sap, mouth falling open in a cry.
Another stuffs your mouth, and you greedily drink the liquid leaking from it, sucking and slurping with hot pleasure coursing your body. It pounds into you, its cocks hitting all the right spots as the vines fondle your breasts.
You scream when your climax hits you, the pleasure overwhelming as your body shakes and shudders, the flowery cocks following and spilling its seed inside you.
It seems the other plants in the garden grow curious, crowding you, feeling you all over, tasting your cum with its vines. They all take turns, another plant cock fucking you once the other ones are done cumming in you.
It repositions you, bending you over as some enter your ass, others shoving more vines down your throat. It’s all too much, making you cum too quickly from having the feeling of it in all your holes.
You have its sap leaking out of you, drooling around another cock as it takes you. It has you cuming over and over again, breeding you as your mind fizzles out from it, only caring about being fucked and filled.
This is all you are good for; this is where you belong, and it thinks so, too
can I just say I'm a big fan of invisible cock too, or portals accessing really big insertions that you can't see from the outside....wearing something fitted and skimpy, like a cute little snug crop top, maybe a little flared skirt and tights, and if you spread my legs all you see are my cute panties, but I have a huge gut bulge that looks suspiciously like a horse cock embedded in my guts, and I'm soaked, because somewhere on the other side of that portal, someone is using me as their own personal stress relief ~
24, nsfw blog, ftm, gonna be real this is mostly to save posts I find, don't expect anything original
60 posts