“08/22/2014: GAZA CITY, AA - The Palestinian death toll from Israel’s ongoing offensive against the Gaza Strip has risen to 612 following fresh Israeli attacks on the blockaded enclave on Tuesday, according to the Palestinian Health Ministry.
The fatalities include at least 160 children and 70 women.”
You know you want to be a good girl. You want to be brainless eyecandy, just a horny and needy fuck toy for men.
And the good news is, you can do it. You can become such a blank and happy doll. Just rub and edge every day, keep your holes wet and needy and strive to be completely cock dumb.
And once you are constantly horny and needy, become an even better girl by shoving plastic inside your body. Bimbofication is key.
Dumb down more and more and become a true fuck doll. Dress and act slutty, show of your enhancements every day.
Follow that path and become a blank and happy living fleshlight for mens pleasure. No worries or doubts, just bliss and pleasure.
You can do it! Be happy - become a bimbo fuck doll!
Remember back in the early 2000’s when “duck face” was a thing? It quickly became a mocked, telltale sign of valid, attention seeking girls.
“Pout your lips and make yourself look thin!”
Nearly twenty years later, we have ahegao.
But instead of it being some halfhearted attempt, it’s fully embracing it’s appeal.
There’s no mistaking it for anything else. You can’t accidentally make the face (unless you’re cumming your brains out).
It’s advertising you know you look good as porn.
You don’t need to be coy about it. It’s cute, it’s lewd, it’s objectifying and silly.
It’s saying you want the attention, and don’t care about anything else.
Every woman doing it knows it reduces them, but if anything that’s only made it more popular.
This is what the popular girls do - the girls all your friends and peers look up to.
Forget about being respected. The attention feels better than anything else.
Give into peer pressure.
Embrace being dumb.
Embrace being porn.
Embrace being a bimbo.
I honestly don’t see the appeal of the ahego face. It’s not realistic. No woman makes that face when cumming no matter how hard she comes. Usually when it’s a hard powerful orgasm their face scrunches up and they bare their teeth and shut their eyes. Some women do go cross eyed but the whole ahego face? It’s fake. To me it seems that if she has presence of mind to make that face while getting fucked, she’s not getting fucked right.
I think this is kind of the point. The fact it’s not realistic. Something taken from hentai, from drawn porn. It’s not even an orgasm face, it’s dumber, more ridiculous, more bimboish.
It’s also something that to those not in the know just looks silly, and kind of cute. But to those who do, it lets them know what you do in secret, a kinky little porn lover, who loves edging and being objectified.
Plus it’s so much cuter than duck face…
At the very least, it’s worth trying while edging. I heard if you cum when pulling it, you’ll get stuck like that <3
I talk about this a lot, the most erotic thing about hypnosis for me is the drop. The eyes fluttering a bit too much, perhaps the sub takes in a deeper than usual breath. The slight movement as they readjust their position, almost to combat this manifesting arousal spreading from their legs to the rest of the poor body
This is the most erotic thing, it is the beginning of me getting my way. The tendrils of temptation and desire beginning to tantalize your mind, the thoughts slowing down to make way for this behemoth of pleasure I will command you with.
How can one not be aroused by it, how can one simply acknowledge it? I want you squirming with the idea of my voice simply whispering away your identity and make your will, wishes, and purpose to be corrupted to seeing me as the only thing needed for your pitifulerotic happiness. This is where I get to make my bed, and I will certainly lie in it.
You ever just suddenly remember you forget to tell a sub to stop edging and you find them a little puddle of a mind. Tits heaving, sweat dripping and the sudden burst of energy when we make eye contact. Such good girls, how can I not leave them for a little longer?
I don’t have a corruption kink, I just find it very arousing in trance to completely change your opinion, wants or desires to the point in which your original stance seems treasonous. Totally not a corruption kink.
One of the larger commission I completed for @ishayn.aukai of their nautolan facing consequences of his past actions facing him with a broken shell of someone he looked up as a father, a friend, a mentor.
This was a blast to work with. Isha had so clear references and open mind to work together with to bring this scene to life and give justice to his character. It may took long but I had fun with rendering where the only frustration was the photoshop lag in the end
Imagine having your cute subby baby watch porn with you, corrupting whatever sliver of innocence they had left in them and then once you’re done you have them perform what they saw in the video. “Go ahead baby, show mommy what you learned today, okay? Be good for mommy and she’ll give you a treat.” And so they do exactly what they were told and get a reward <33
It was amazing what a little bit of a transformation could do to a girl. Going from a good, religious, well-mannered and hardworking family girl, to becoming an attention and cock whore, augmented with plastic features that turned her into a real-life barbie doll.
She had almost fully turned herself into a typical, blonde haired, blue eyed bimbo whore, equipped even with the brainless and dumb mindset, which all bimbos make up for in their tit size.
Even her attitude had changed. She was an attention whore who craved big, thick cocks and literally begged for them. The bigger the better since there was so much room in her head that it would be a shame to let it go to waste. She even started dressing provocatively, showing off her beautiful breasts, obviously telling every body that she was nothing but a stupid bimbo cock-slave who desperately needed to be someone’s cum receptacle.
What made it even more of a transformation was the loss of her strong will towards feminism and the disappearance of her stubbornness to give in to men. She used to be so respected by both guys and girls, but now she was the embodiment of anti-feminism, a mere masturbation tool for men to use when they felt like it. A cum bowl and stress outlet that people thought less highly of than dirt. That was shown by the fact that she was caught the next day kneeled down in the boy’s bathroom, naked, covered in cum while deepthroating one of the many boys she had deepthroated that day. I heard the stories from some guys of how you could choke her out with your cock until she passed out and when she woke up she would still smile at you and thank you for using her.
She had become the perfect girl, a subservient tool that can be used in whatever way a man demands it. Girls shouldn’t have rights, and those of us who do our best to show men that they’re superior are the girls that are doing things correctly in attempts to change the disgusting attitude of feminism. If a man has a cock, he owns any hole of any woman he wants. We don’t have a say, we’re incapable of making good decisions or being physically on par with men. They could dominate us and rape us as much as they wanted if they had the chance, so we need to be extra nice to them. Plus, men need to make important decisions and work, whereas us girls just need to focus on how best to make men cum so that their lives are easier, given that ours are already so pathetic. All girls should become bimbos, because it’s what men want.
Dumb, plastic, cock-starved pieces of meat are what we all need to aspire to become
Starving and homeless children in Russia in the 1990s, who often became victims of substance abuse, sexual abuse and were actively involved in crime. These scary photos are reminders that the West considers Russia in the 90s “democratic, free and detached from totalitarian communism.”
The capitalism implementation in Russia during the 90’ was probably the biggest capitalism failure of all times. Yeltsin implemented the economic policies applauded by the neoliberal institutions (FMI, World Bank, etc.) With mass privatisations, welfare destruction, destatalisation, destruction of social rights etc. The results were terrifying from all point of views:
As always happens in capitalism there were cartels, trusts etc. That formed a class of oligarchs that put themselves above the State leading the policies towards their interest against the interest of the people. Mostly represented by the Semibankirschina.
-Dramatically drop of life expectancy arriving at 7 years drop in less then a decade for men.
-Dramatic rise in mortality.
-Dramatic rise in self destructive behaviours like drugs and alcohol abuse.
-Mass depression
-Low birth rates due to financial instability and uncertainty
-crime rates rise with entire pieces of the country controlled by organised crime
-Moral crisis well represented by the dramatic increase of prostitution ( Prostitution that was de facto absent during most of Soviet times especially under Stalin but that started again with Gorbachev)
This one was made a while ago, but I held off on posting it a bit since I had some stuff like the Mona story cut the line. Let’s get a little weird with the narration and tense. Enjoy!
Premise: Dean loves a quiet library where he can lose himself parsing the text of a good book. Today, he returns to an old favorite: an ancient, cryptic book detailing the intimacies of demons.
Studying was important. It was a central lesson Dean had followed since his earliest days, and what had led him to such heights now. He’d succeeded as a scholar and now had all the time in the world to bask in the fruit of the library as he pleased. It was his favorite hobby, one he couldn’t help but come back to over and over again.
This deep underground library was a chore to navigate. It was an ancient one, built on a cave system and plunging down remarkably deep. The hours melted together here. Dean could scarcely remember the last time he’d emerged from the hideaway for any long period of time. Though some may find it a lonely place, Dean found it enthralling.
At the deepest depths of the structure sat his dear favorite book: The encyclopedia of demon machinations. This particular book was a bit difficult to digest. It was bound in some rough leathery material, scarred, scratched, and black as coal. It was a tome of the arcane, and a strange one at that. While most texts on anything to do with the more forgotten sides of religion bore intimidating satanic iconography, this book was different. A heart was plastered on the front. By all means, this book should have been far older than the common modern symbol of a heart, but here it was. The only real deviations from the modern icon were a few stems jutting from the side, and an open bottom, looking almost like a womb.
The parchment was so aged he feared at first just his turns of the page would rip it to shreds. Perhaps his hands were a bit clumsy at first and nearly damaged the book, but not anymore. His smooth hands were far better at such intricate movements. The delicate, soft motions he’d once found so challenging for his twitchy touch were now effortless affairs after so many sessions with this tome’s words.
To think he’d been so absorbed in a single book for so many months. Most of the library’s books had information he’d already digested. It was rare for a text with anything fresh to materialize, and what did was normally tackled in a day. This book though… somehow whenever he opened its folds, he sunk hours into it with countless amounts left to read. It was difficult to translate the text at first in its strange dead language, but now he could parse its words far faster. It was if the demon’s tongue were a second language at this point
He took a seat at an old splintered table and opened that forbidden tome. His hair got in the way… How long it had gotten lately. Perhaps he’d neglected that bit of him throughout all this studying. It’d grown so long, straight, and glossy. That was particularly odd, given he remembered having curly hair. The dampness of the depths must have humidified it. He pushed his luscious locks aside and opened the covers. Where had he left off again? Ah yes, page 792; deep into the chapter on demon fertility.
Yet again the sweet internal audio of read text echoed through Dean’s head. Every word felt as if it were imprinting itself right inside his brain. Only earthly concerns could interrupt this delicious trance-like plunge into knowledge now, fidgets or uncomfortable muscles from too much stationary sitting.
An itch on his ear came to light. Drat. His hand reached up to scratch the lobe, colliding with something cold and metal. Those were… earrings? Oh, yes, he’d almost forgotten he’d gotten them on a whim. Reading this book seemed to put him in a suggestable mood, and something as bold as hoop earrings gave him a nice outlet of expression. Perhaps a boy with gold jewelry looked fairly ridiculous. No matter, it wasn’t as if he cared about his looks among a sea of parchment. His peers of books, silverfish, and other pests of the deep hardly cared about his look. He scratched the lobe with his long nails and carried on fully concentrated.
The textbook got racier. A more dedicated description of just what demonic fertility involved began. Dean blushed. His foot started to twitch. Dean’s leg always seemed to grow restless when he sat for too long. Now though, it was particularly annoying with the loud clacking of his shoes. Once more, Dean addressed the problem. He took a second to flex his legs, his big, strong, wide legs, and give his muscles some much needed movement. The space beneath the library table was too small. He pushed his chair back for a moment and flexed in the open air. He admired the musculature of his form as his juicy quadriceps bulged. Not to mention, wow, did he ever look nice in those shoes. Gold high heels looked wonderful against the red of his painted nails.
Focus turned back to the book. The text grew even more robust and obscene in its descriptions. Vivid accounts of demon sex, impregnation, and transformation were all presented to Dean’s mortal eyes. It was captivating. Had Dean already read this passage before? It seemed so familiar, like he’d worked over it for months and never fully passed it. Something always got him worked up reading this bit.
It was more transfixing the deeper he dove into it, so very captivating. The way a demon might tempt a mortal and show them the body of their fantasies, the way they might expose them to a true self beneath the poison of mortal flesh, the way the subject needs only the slightest bit of curiosity to fall deep into the sweet honey of a truer self subject to the whims of promiscuous demons…
Dean’s heartbeat was racing.
This was too much. Dean couldn’t bear to keep reading without answering his needy body. Even if this were a public library, damn the consequences. He needed to masturbate.
Dean’s hands dove for his crotch, to stroke his hardening length with all his might. He attempted to slip his hands down his pants waistband, only to be reminded he hadn’t worn anything to cover himself that day but his chastity cage. His hands grasped nothing, then tapped longingly at his cock sealed beneath gold. A bead of pre dewed at the tip. He bit his plush red lips in frustration.
With his penile stimulation denied, Dean’s hands worked quickly for alternative sources of pleasure. That hand that had failed to grasp his cock earlier instead stunk deeper to play with his aching balls. His fingers shifted back and forth on his testes, as if imitating clitoral stimulation. It wasn’t very pleasurable at all, but the sheer desperation in the act made Dean’s pulse pound even faster.
His other free hand shot for his chest, and yanked aside his loose sweater. His sweaty breasts, each the size of his very head, bounced and jostled in the warm library air. His other hand shot for one of his fat nipples, squeezing the tip, trying to maneuver around the big whorish ring piercings marking his big slutty udders. Another party joined in to please the other. His long, red tail, tipped with a blunt heart shape, moved on its own volition to tease his other whorish udder.
Yet not even this cacophony of stimulation was enough for the hungry passion welling inside Dean. More was needed. His hand stopped massaging his ballsack and shot towards his purse. He needed his dear boyfriend to send him over the edge.
From inside the handbag, a large iron ribbed dildo emerged, the perfect partner to fuck that needy bright red ass. Dean shifted in his seat, pressing his weight against one of his ample cheeks to expose his greedy, stretched asshole for open access. The toy pressed against hole. Dean purred from that alone. Penetration. Oh sweet penetration! Dean groaned like the sex cattle he was into the empty halls of knowledge!
The obscene noises of slapping flesh rang out as Dean ruthlessly pounded his veteran hole over and over again with that big fake phallus. His moans grew deeper in a guttural feminine squeal as he felt his limit approach. His impressive horns, like that of a mighty ram’s, grew just a millimeter as they counted yet another intimate moment on his infernal resume. His eyes glittered with fluorescent pink as infernal energy swelled through his veins. The svelte flesh of his stomach too radiated that bright light, that same emblem on the book shining brightly among his body’s red skin just above his crotch. His body begged to be bred. Just a little bit more and sweet release would be-
“Ho-OOOOOOH…” Dean gasped as the sweet impact of orgasm washed across his body. His trapped cocklette burst with droplets of thin white, another burst of thin semen fitting for a submissive breeding sow of hell such as he. His asshole shook and clenched around the fat cock inside of his bottom, savoring the feeling of fullness from penetration so very dearly. His muscles writhed… then relaxed. His whole body slumped just a bit as post coital satisfaction washed over him.
My, did his memories ever get so clouded when he got horny. Thank goodness he had his favorite pornographic smut to comb through when his needs were truly desperate and none of his sisters in fallen grace were around to help. Dean-
Wait, Dean? Oh, had she forgotten her name again? My, how hilarious. To think she used to be so smart as a human, yet was so thick headed now.
She’d been horny and reckless as a mortal before, but that hardly compared to the intoxicated state the mind dove into when horny as hellspawn. How amazing it was that in her most desperate fits of neediness, her thoughts would peel back to a time before her dark ascension just to stifle her whirling mind from going mad with lust. At least it let her mime out those last moments of her mortality as a delicious daydream before starting her life proper.
Dean was her name back as a mortal vessel. Xesaiya was her name now that she was born of succulent demon flesh. What a repulsive name that was, Dean. To think she had ever considered herself a “Dean” or any sort of man. Her clammy larval state was so positively boring. Her regular rutting with the underworld’s deliciously strong masculine devils and seductive, busty, and hung feminine demons far surpassed any earthly hobby.
Reading mortal books, pah. What a sad source of entertainment. For a cock-brained submissive slut like her, even reading the deep insight of demonic literature seemed pointless when she could be getting fucked instead. Well, except that old favorite tome of hers. It was hard for her not to cherish that sweet first piece of written demonic pornography that had sent her down this indulgent, ungodly, unfathomably pleasurable path to her real self.
Xesaiya packed her fake cock back in her purse. She stood and pulled a nearby bookshelf aside, unmasking her stairway path from the world of mortal men back into the screaming depths of her dear home. She jauntily descended down the infernal steps, trotting in her massive heels as if they were as effortless to walk in as her bare feet.
It had been long enough that her sisters were surely back from their surface trips seducing men. Nothing would make her day now quite like rubbing cages together with her fellow demonic bitch subs. Perhaps she could even convince that exceptionally curvy hellspawn to sodomize her with a strap-on again. Oh, and she simply had to watch the way her elders took the fattest of hell’s cocks. There was much to learn, so much to indulge in during a deep uninterrupted study.
