Monsters whose orgasms last a lot longer than a human’s. They shudder and squirt for minutes at a time, hips jerking, mouth wide open, and since you’re done already you might as well sit back and enjoy the show.
Tag: teratophilia
ARTWORK CURTOSY OF @doe-eyed-monster-draws
Who would you like to snuggle up with this winter? Octavius the Minotaur is waiting for you. With his broad chest and fluffy mantle, this buff, gruff, caring fellow is the perfect companion to keep you warm all season!
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I suddenly have the urge to get lost in a maze…
How To Stop Breastfeeding – A Sex Tale
Pairing with any monster that has hands.
Warnings: Sexual Breastfeeding, Knotting, Breeding
The little one is taking their nap. It’s been a year since their birth, and you’ve just weaned them from your breasts. Well, they weaned themselves… the food of the adult world is just too delicious. They prefer solid food now, but that doesn’t mean your breasts aren’t still producing milk.
You pout at your topless reflection in the bedroom mirror as you cup your swollen breasts. They’re not painfully full yet, but they will be soon if you don’t express some milk out.
“Mmm, what a view,” your husband admires you from the doorway, but he doesn’t stay there for long. In a breath, he’s behind you. His hands snake around your chest and take over the task of palming your breasts. He tweaks your nipples while gently massaging around your areola. You sigh as milk begins to pool and drip down your body. “I’m going to miss this.”
“Well,” you gulp for air as he releases more milk with his expert technique honed over the last twelve months. You’re starting to drip onto the floor. “You still… ahhh… get a few more… ooo… weeks. It takes ahhh… while for the body to learn there’s no more baby to feed.”
You rush the end of your sentence as your husband twirls you around. He licks the milky streams across your stretch-mark scarred stomach. You giggle and hold his head just far enough away from your nipple as he tries to suckle it. “No, no, no,” you use the same tone you use on your child when they’re reaching for something they shouldn’t touch. “If you keep drinking from them, they’ll never stop.”
“Is that a problem?” He asks, flicking his tongue over your nipple with a mischievous smirk.
“It is a bit draining,” you admit with an accidental pun. He tries to latch again, but you keep holding him back. “No, no, no. I’d like to not be hungry all the time.” Creating milk is a high metabolic process. When you started, you hadn’t understood just how taxing it was to do. Within a month, you had lost all the added weight from your pregnancy, and now… well, you do feel great, but it’s exhausting too.
“I’d like to not be hungry all the time, but you don’t make it easy on me,” he grumbles, pulling you closer to him with one arm and massaging more milk with the other. He emphasizes his statement with an exaggerated slurp off your skin. Again he tries to move up to suck your nipple, but you continue to hold him back. You know he’ll empty you if he’s allowed to latch, and you truly would like to stop producing. It’s just getting obnoxiously inconvenient when you drip through your breast pads and onto your shirts in public. You want more control.
And despite his protest, your husband is willing to give it to you. You wouldn’t be able to hold his head back if he didn’t allow it. He is physically much stronger than you. Though, you’ll never forget the night you gave birth to your little hybrid monster. Your husband, who had rubbed your back throughout every roaring contraction, held you and your baby in his arms and whispered, “You are the most powerful creature in the world.”
You channel the feeling those words gave you every time you need to use your “mom” voice. It’s also satisfying to watch your husband’s ears perk up at the sound. You are equals… but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to snack on you every now and then.
You deny him again from suckling as he pulls you both back towards the bed. He jumps backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his broad hips and trace the scarred muscle of his chest as you pull off his shirt. He squeezes your breasts with a gentle firmness that decorates his body in your milk.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groans as you slip off your bottoms and slide your wet sex over the stretched fabric of his pants. He growls, squeezing you harder as you grind on him. He mills you as you dig your nails into his sides. You angle your clit over the damp, rough fabric covering his bulbous head.
“Ahhhh,” you moan loudly and then pause. Both of you listen carefully for any noise from the other room. You hear the rustle of the babe turning in their crib, but then nothing. They must have gone back to sleep.
Your husband flips you over so you can moan into the pillow as he rips off his constraining pants and mounts you. His cock thrusts inside you with a force that nearly breaks the bed. You howl into the pillow before he pulls you up against his upright body. Gripping your chest, he continues to kneed your breasts as he thrusts inside you.
You bite your lip near to bleeding while he muffles his own pleasure against your neck. You’re wastefully dripping all over the sheets and his arms as he slides you up and down in fierce possessive thrusts.
You feel your orgasm rising, your legs spreading impossibly wider with pleasure, when he knots himself within you. Shocked you cry out, but he turns your head and mutes your mouth with his own in a passionate kiss. “Let’s make another.”
It’s almost a question, but you both know you’ll say yes. It has always been your plan to have more than one. Still, being pinned to this beast, panting around you and throbbing within you his desire to breed, how could you ever say no?
You kiss him in consent and then let him ease you down onto the bed. He properly positions himself. Then his knot sinks deeper within your tight hole. It takes all your willpower not to scream in ecstasy as he loses himself in a fury of powerful thrusts that push you over the edge. As you orgasm around him, he releases himself within you.
You sigh in joy as the pressure tight seal from his knot forces his cum deep within you. He collapses on top of you. His full weight nearly crushing you until he falls to his side, pulling you with him, still sealed within you.
He kisses your neck and massages the area above your womb. “Pregnancy helps human women dry up their milk ducts faster.” He mumbles the fact as if reading it from the internet right then. He may have earlier…
“Don’t even pretend that’s the reason you’re breeding me so soon,” you playfully bat his hand over your stomach. He gives you a small squeeze. His energy depleted as his knot throbs inside you.
In the other room your baby coos softly in their sleep. You worry at first that they’ve woken up – it would be a bit awkward to care for them like this. Their father still has a half hour before his knot recedes.
“We make good offspring,” he mumbles, beginning to fall asleep. You adjust yourself against him and try not to think about how messy you both are. You could shower after a nap… you didn’t really have a choice.
Power Given. Power Taken.
(Inspired by the artwork in this post)
There’s a demon sitting in the middle of the city, but no one stops to stare. Do they not see this behemoth? Twice the size of any man, he towers over the night rush after work. His dark, reflective eyes look through each passerby, but they do not return the glance. They cannot. They are blind to his fearsome form. The closest anyone comes to recognition is within a shiver as they pass by. Their aura sensitive enough to signal his presence with raised skin in fright. And they should be afraid. He looks hungry.
Ravenous.
But after hours, he remains on his perch like an awesome marble statue from ancient times. His chiseled, muscular body is displayed nude, leaving nothing to your imagination except his motive…
… and his voice. But that mystery disappears as his haunted gaze finally falls on your hiding spot. He opens his mouth and speaks in a tone so low that it pulls your spirit down into the depths of Hell just to hear it. Sulfur fills the air from his breath as he addresses you, “How long will you stare at me from the shadows, child?”
For to one as old as he, you are a child. And you feel like one, guiltily stepping into the street light before a God of Darkness. You know he can see you just fine where you stood, but you feel compelled to come closer.
He licks his lips in a dangerous smile, revealing fangs that could tear you to pieces. He adjusts his stance, spreading his legs with a ponderous fist against his thigh the size of your torso. You dare not look down at his dark display below his waist; so you look to his side. His other claw clutches the rail with a clenched tension that warns he’s holding himself back. Like a hound tied to a tether about to snap, he growls in warning as you take another step closer without answering him.
You can’t. You’ve lost your ability to speak. Your throat is dry and lungs burn from ash that’s floating in the air around him. You should run, but you can’t stop yourself from continuing to move towards him. He stretches his wings at your approach. Darkness billows from them in smoky clouds that shroud the night scene until no one else exists around you.
You’ve stepped into an alternate plane, overlapping with your own in an intersection of time that shouldn’t exist outside of faery tales and nightmares.
“Speak,” he commands.
You choke as you respond, “I don’t know what to say.”
Nor do you know what do. You’re now inches from his knee.
“What do you desire?” You’re nearly eye level with his crotch, and his question catches you off guard. You try not to let your gaze wonder that low, but your eyes betray you in their own curiosity…
He is quite unashamedly erect. You gasp, taking a step back from his monstrous need. He laughs, and the thunderous sound shakes the ground beneath you. “You are a dishonest species, lying even to yourself.”
“I…” still don’t know what to say.
“Is it so difficult? To say what you think?”
“Yes,” you almost forget his size and status as his taunting question teases out a dormant desire within you: honesty. “A person is judged for every word they say.”
“And you are tired of being judged.” It isn’t a question.
“Yes!” The truth of it pulses through your veins and you touch his massive knee with a small slap in affirmation. He grunts and you blush while lightly petting his rough skin in apology. He lets you and doesn’t stop your fingers from lingering on the texture of a body calloused by a thousand scars all healed with imperfect grace. “Why are you here?”
“To find you,” his claw tips your chin, leading your eyes up his battle worn body to his piercing gaze. You feel possessed as his eyes lock with yours. His hand trails down your body, reacting sinfully to his touch. “And make you mine.”
You gulp as your heart skips a beat and then another. You resist to urge to refuse his words because… because it wouldn’t be true. You’ve spent your life denying yourself – shaming yourself – and for what purpose? To whose will are you bending? And why not bend to your own?
You let your gaze fall on his rigid member, and this time you don’t force yourself to look away. Instead you admire his thick, glistening head. The girth of your fist and vined with throbbing veins, it beckons you, “Touch it.”
You obey with pleasure. The heat from his skin warms your hands as his own cut away your clothes, leaving you bare to the world.
“You’re beautiful,” he admires with a untempered growl. His desire beads in forbidden droplets that pool and slide down his cock. Then onto your hands.
You don’t wait for his command as you kiss his shaft. Tongue gliding over the salty streams of his cum, you delight in his essence burning down your throat like a shot of bourbon. It warms your stomach and sets your skin on fire. It’s addictive, and you consume more of him. Greedily sucking on his cock with lips unable to stretch wide enough to take his whole head in.
“Yes. Drink,” he hisses, gushing into your mouth and over your body. Endless waves of his seed bathe you in precum as he rises taunter towards orgasm.
You feel powerful. Rubbing your breasts against his slick shaft and watching this massive beast cave and shake under you. Loosing his ability to form words, he howls into the night. His claws cut into your waist and shoulder. Your blood mixes with his precum as it runs down your body. You don’t care. The pain only fuels your thirst.
He roars as he edges closer to release, but he lets you remain in control. You’re dripping with him and yourself. His ragged breathing fills your ears. His taste fills your mouth as he cums with a force that chokes you. Sputtering in surprise, you close your eyes as your entire face is anointed in thick ropes of cum. It pools at your feet in a sticky puddle.
You’re proud. You’re full. And… you’re still very horny. He stretches in a satisfied sigh. “You are ready.”
He releases the railing and stands at his full height before you. With one clawed finger, he scoops a stream of his cum trailing down your stomach, and then plunges it between your legs in a swift thrust that leaves you breathless. One of his fingers is more than enough to fill you. He guides you down into the pool of his semen as you spread your legs wider. You’d worry about the thick mess beneath you, but your focus is on the beast now kneeling above you.
Lubricated by his cum, his finger continues to thrust within you. The tip of his nail pierces your cervix like a shot that you soon grow accustomed to as he finds your rhythm. Curling his finger, he elicits your moans.
His thumb rubs your clit and you loose yourself in pleasure. He enjoys your lustful shakes as he edges you closer. He stops moving as you almost cum. You squirm, beg, and pull him closer. He enjoys the show and rewards you with more pleasure.
But he continues to stop each time you get close. He likes you begging… demanding… lusting. His patience seems endless and your pleasure intensifies with each new round. You reach levels of joy you’d never known were possible as the dark world dissolves into a vortex of shadow.
Your eyes focus on his face… his smile… his lips claim yours in an unholy kiss as you’re finally allowed to cum against him.
You wrap your body around him. Shaking in ecstasy, you praise his name.
“Now you are mine.”
Title: Sex and Symbiosis.
Pairing: Venom x Reader x Eddie
Warning: Non-Con/Dub Con, Breeding.
Special Shout Out to Someone(s) and Obo-Miyu03 who funded my trip to see Venom in theaters. I hope this satisfies a bit of your thirst.
I’ll probably add this to AO3 tomorrow. I usually use them, but their mobile version is being a real pain. It won’t let me highlight text to format it and that just won’t do… this is 2.5K so it won’t all fit on Tumblr… So here it is on my unadvertised Wattpad lol.
sweet endeavors
Otherwise known as, 4 Times You Tried To Spice Things Up in the Bedroom (and the one time it worked)
Pairing: Venom x Reader, Eddie Brock x Reader
Words: 2.5k
Summary: Cultural misunderstandings are inevitable when dating an alien. Particularly when trying new things in the bedroom.
Author’s Note: A prompt that started out funny, then got a little angsty, then funny again, and then smutty. Basically this went places I didn’t expect it to. Anon, I hope you like.
Here’s the thing about dating an alien—there are some cultural issues. It’s a give and take situation: Venom will tell you about far-flung planets, the colors of a dawning dwarf star, the taste of meteor dust.
And you tell them why it isn’t okay to eat someone’s hamster.
You always knew that sleeping with an alien would have its challenges. There were the size differences, the contrasts in biology, and the very strangeness of it all. But it was like having sex with anyone new: there’s always an awkward getting-to-know-you stage. You and Eddie had it. You and Venom had it. And now things are good—great, actually.
But variety is the spice of life. Which is why you decide to introduce a few new things into the bedroom.
Honestly, it’s a bit of a disaster.
This is wonderful!
Dark Crystal Demon 