video killed the radio star

so i wanted to share some shy, kinda rough doodles… is that okay? 😅

if you like creatures or monsters, there’s something you might enjoy below 👀

Woah, did you feel that? That certain feeling? That's your body telling you that what I just said is true. So whenever you feel that certain feeling you can know that that's what it feels like when something is true. You don't have to question or think about why, because truth is a feeling. That feeling. Right there. Just now.

To clarify, the correct method is to hold at the roots and pull the head by them. To understand what I mean, reach a hand up behind the nearest head (possibly your own), keeping the hand flat against the skin of the neck and the back of the head until it's embedded in the hair. Then, make a fist, grabbing as much hair as possible with your fingers. It should form a firm grip, and be easy to drag the head around with.

It's an interesting type of grip. While it is possible to fight, it's generally quite painful, and it's more intuitive to just follow along with the hand. It's less clear on your own head, get someone else to do it to you if you can.

If you are pulling by the strands not only will it cause more of the sharp, unpleasant pain you get rolling over on someone's hair in their sleep, but you're not engaging with the neck. A fistful of root makes the head pivot on the neck with your movements, while tugging on strands is more likely to produce jerky, uncoordinated movements that may cause strain or injury.

Psychologically it is also far more powerful. There is greater physical control, yes, but consider the pressure against your scalp. The warmth of your dominant's fingers against your skin reminding you with every flex your body is being used to keep you in your place. By lack of will, strength, or both you are helpless against being made into your own restraint. Every motion you can't resist brings you closer to simply being an extension of your owner's will.

One can suggest a very similar phenomenon around collar and leash play, and why it tends to grow more intense when using familiar, personalized tools. Wear it with the right triggers and soon that is not an accessory. It is a part of you, and there is a state of being that can only be complete when you wear it. You start to feel every shift against your skin like it's a part of you, like two hands brushing against each other rather than clothing meeting flesh.

I would go so far as to say this applies to all highly personalized accessories. Whether it's a collar, a vibrator, a strap-on, a piercing, or even more mundane objects like a comfort sweatshirt, the repetitive internal notions of "this is mine, this is me" can make them feel as real as any appendage. Weave this with the association that this thing that is so fundamentally you belongs to another person and it is a trivially easy bridge to the feeling that all of you belongs to them as well.

To clarify, the correct method is to hold at the roots and pull the head by them. To understand what I mean, reach a hand up behind the nearest head (possibly your own), keeping the hand flat against the skin of the neck and the back of the head until it's embedded in the hair. Then, make a fist, grabbing as much hair as possible with your fingers. It should form a firm grip, and be easy to drag the head around with.

It's an interesting type of grip. While it is possible to fight, it's generally quite painful, and it's more intuitive to just follow along with the hand. It's less clear on your own head, get someone else to do it to you if you can.

I've had many a thought about tentacles, so thank you for letting me indulge, anon.

A girl wakes up from her drug-induced slumber. She’s naked and lying on the floor. The tiles are cold and slippery. The room is dark, but she can sense that someone - something - else is in there with her. 

She hears the creature before she sees it. A wet, swishy noise as the creature moves across the floor. She sits up and curls in on herself, scared. Her movements are sluggish and her brain feels foggy - the drugs they pumped her with are still circulating in her system. 

The creature is huge. Filling the entire room, almost. Dark in colour, its skin covered in bumps and glistening, as if covered in slime. It’s at least five times her size and many more times her weight. 

Not to mention the tentacles. 

They’re everywhere. 

All shapes and sizes. Some skinny and long, wandering ahead, as if feeling their way around. Some thick and girthy, to support the creature’s weight. 

She whimpers, afraid. 

A thin tentacle encircles her ankle. She yelps and tries to squirm away, but more tentacles appear. Grabbing her arms, legs, holding onto her gently, but firmly. Their grip tightening the more she wriggles. 

The tentacles bring her over to the creature. She’s breathing heavily, body trembling in fear. 

Thicker tentacles slither up her body. They glide easily, lubricated in their own slime. She can feel the ridges and bumps of their underside. The creature seems to be examining her, running its tentacles up and down her skin. Surprisingly gentle. Caressing her face, her neck, her arms.

Two tentacles appear before her - these ones are different. Their undersides covered in suction cups, rather than ridges. They attach to her breasts, causing her to gasp in surprise. The suction cups start kneading and gently massaging her tits. Varying the pressure and rhythm - there are a surprising number of muscles in those suction cups. 

Despite the fear and confusion, she feels herself getting wetter. 

As if sensing her growing arousal, the creature’s tentacles spreads her legs apart, suspending her in the air in a weird sitting position. Her holes are exposed to the creature’s gaze (does it even have eyes??), leaving her totally vulnerable. More tentacles slither up her thighs, questing towards her cunt and ass. The tentacles massaging her tits maintain their steady rhythm. 

She feels multiple tentacles probing her cunt. Teasing her lips, smearing her wetness around. She moans involuntarily. Without warning, one of them slips inside.

She cries out, partly from pain and partly from pleasure. The creature’s skin is covered in slime, which conveniently acts as lube. After a few seconds of adjusting, the pain gives way to incredible fullness. 

The creature starts to fuck her. Its tentacle steadily plunging in and out of her cunt. She feels herself getting wetter and wetter - it feels so good. Just the right amount of girth to be rubbing all her good spots. 

She yelps as more tentacles probe her ass. They swear slime around her hole to act as lubricant, then another tentacle is probing, prodding, gently teasing her entrance, before slipping in. She grunts as it starts to fuck her, working its length into her asshole. 

The tentacle fucking her cunt quickens its pace. More tentacles are teasing her entrance, occasionally bumping against her clit. All of a sudden, she feels the tentacle stiffen, stretching her cunt even further. Then she feels it: hot, sticky cum flooding her cunt. The tentacle pulsing and throbbing as it pumps its cum deep inside her. All she can do is whine and moan as her pussy is used as a cumdump. 

When the tentacle slips out, she feels a dribble of cum spill out with it. She barely has time to register what’s happening before another tentacle takes the place of the one that just vacated her pussy. It’s a little girthier than the last one, but it wastes no time fucking into her with reckless abandon. 

Her ass has relaxed enough that the tentacle in it can start fucking her with deep, long, strokes that cause her eyes to roll back. She feels so stuffed full. 

She feels a tentacle caressing her cheek, then her jaw, before probing end pushing past her lips. She moans in surprise, relaxing her jaw as the tentacle starts to fuck her mouth. 

What a spectacle she must be. Suspended in mid air, nothing but a fucktoy for this creature and its myriad of tentacles. 

She feels another tentacle probing her cunt and cries out as it somehow manages to slip inside her a little, next to the tentacle already fucking her pussy. The second tentacle can’t do much, but it’s there, stretching her open. 

The tentacle in her ass thickens as it begins spurting inside her, unloading itself into her holes. Soon after, the tentacle in her mouth begins to fuck her throat more aggressively, before thickening, twitching and pulsing, pumping cum into her stomach. There’s so much, she almost chokes on it. 

When the tentacles in her mouth withdraw, yet more take their place. 

Oh easily.

Werewolves are so, so easy to write about because there’s just so much to love about them! They’re big and strong, so they can overpower you easily, chase you down with no chance of escape. If you’re in their territory, not only does it give them an excuse to hunt you in the first place, but they know the place a lot better than you do, which means that they know how to pair up and use the paths through the area to trap a human between them. There are different types of werewolf, but the ones in question are incredibly smart, even under a full moon - they’re just stronger when the moon is full. With a werewolf in front and a werewolf behind, there’s no place for the hapless prey to go - and the werewolves planned it that way. This is the optimal way for a pair of pent-up werewolves to hunt…but not for food. They’re hunting for a nice, warm fleshlight that will moan and cry oh so prettily.

Just imagine…a pair of werewolves come across a human in their territory who has no clue what they’ve just gotten into. Maybe that human is me. I’d be walking down the path through the woods with not a care in the world, admiring the clear night sky overhead, when suddenly the road ahead is blocked by a dark mass - a mass that I quickly realize has fur, muscle, and enormous sharp teeth. I turn around to run in the opposite direction, but the other werewolf has already come up from behind, and while my back is turned the first werewolf knocks me over into the dirt and pins me there facedown. I would probably be paralyzed with fear, completely unable to resist as the werewolf yanks my shorts and boxers off in one fell swoop. When I feel a cold, wet nose pressing into my exposed pussy, however, I realize that these werewolves aren’t here to eat me at all.

I hear a deep, rumbling laugh - “This one’s turned on by this,” the first werewolf comments to the second.

The second one laughs, too. “Good. Maybe it won’t struggle as much.”

I’m still unable to struggle at all, pinned in place both by a massive, taloned paw and by terror. I feel myself shaking as the first werewolf lifts me up to his mouth - but then I gasp and jerk as I feel a wet, slimy tongue slide into my ass with no warning. The werewolf in front of me laughs again - I can tell he’s enjoying my reactions.

This doesn’t go on for long before the werewolf holding me lowers me from his mouth. Without further words, like they’ve done this many times before, the werewolves step close together, with my body between them. I feel something poking at both my pussy and my ass - and the reality of what’s going on finally hits me. I don’t have any time to protest, however, before I’m abruptly forced down and the tips of both of their cocks immediately pop into me, stretching me wider than anything I’ve taken before. I let out a strangled whimper, incapable of any other sounds, and both of the werewolves seem to thoroughly enjoy it while they use their massive hands - paws? - to sink me down further. I’m trapped in place, squirming, twitching with discomfort - but, at the same time, I’m extremely turned on, more than I want to admit.

The werewolves finally reach a point where they can’t go any further without exerting more effort than they apparently want to. I’m shivering, still terrified, but now soaking wet around the enormous werewolf cock in my pussy, and neither werewolf gives me any time to adjust before they both start pumping their hips at a relentless pace, alternating thrusts with each other. I’m never empty, with either my ass or pussy completely filled by enormous, throbbing cock at all times, and I can hardly handle it as I cum on the werewolf cock raping me. Both of the wolves seem to like how tight I get when I cum, if the growls of pleasure are anything to go by - and I hear those growls frequently as I cum again and again on the cocks stretching me out, raping me open.

Eventually, it reaches a point where I can feel both of their cocks pulsing intensely, and without having to ask or say anything, I already know that it means that the werewolves are close to cumming. They prove my point five seconds later when they both force themselves all the way into me, their knots swelling at the same time in both of my holes and stretching me impossibly, painfully wide - but, as much as it hurts, I can’t help but moan and whimper pathetically. I feel the hot werewolf cum spilling deep into my guts and directly into my womb, the werewolf in my pussy making room for himself by forcing his way past my cervix while his knot ensures that there’s no way for me to push him out. I feel myself bloating, filled from the inside out with thick, potent cum - I wonder distantly if werewolves can get humans pregnant, but it’s only a vague idea past the sheer pleasure rampaging through me.

What feels like an eternity later, the werewolves finally stop cumming. They don’t have to stand as close together to keep me pinned effectively anymore; my swollen belly does the work for them as I sit there, limp, exhausted, still impaled on werewolf cock.

“I like this one,” the werewolf behind me comments. “Do you think Alpha will let us keep it?”

“…He’s gonna want a turn on it himself, but he might.” The werewolf in front of me laughs. “Hey, fucktoy - what do you think about coming back home with us? If you think taking our cocks was hard, wait ‘til you take our Alpha’s.”