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Artist: TheKite

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minotaur knight, fully decked out in armor that covers his huge body, his helmet revealing only his horns. he's always protected you, always watched over you, going everywhere that you go to make sure no one who wants your crown might try to take it from you.
he tries to hide how he feels, how he doesn't just serve you because it's his job, but because he wants nothing more than to keep you safe. he's professional, polite, sometimes curt when you push too hard on the barrier between you. but it's growing more and more obvious now with the way his eyes linger on you for too long, how he keeps even closer to your side on long rides, starting conversations when he always kept to himself before.
and you want him, too. he towers over you, a monstrous figure covered in steel, but you know the soft heart that lies underneath. every day your feelings swell bigger, until you don't know how much longer you can bear the occasional touch and the deep, meaningful conversations as you walk through the woods together.
on one of your rides you reach the lake, and this time, you decide to swim in it even with him there. your minotaur knight stations himself at the edge of the lake, at the ready should some enemy try to attack you while you're vulnerable. but he can't help following you with his eyes, drinking in your naked body as you swim.
when you emerge from the water soaking wet, he offers you a towel, but you push it aside. you stand on your tip toes to stroke his cheek, and he stills completely under your hand.
princess? he asks, baffled by this change in your demeanor. you touch yourself with your other hand, coasting over your breasts, plucking your nipples in front of him. his mouth falls open, his nostrils flaring as your arousal fills the air. you're tired of hiding how much you want him.
it's when you dip your hand between your legs to touch yourself that his composure, his will to stay away from you, finally breaks. he groans at the sight, pushing your hand away so he can be the one to feel how soft and wet you are. his eyes roll back in his head as he slips one thick finger into you.
you're this wet for me?
you rock and moan as he slides in another one, stretching you open. suddenly, he pushes you down to the grass, his massive body caging you in, his horns shining in the sunlight. he shoves your legs apart, ravenous now, and torments you with his tongue while he fucks you with his hand. he's wanted you for so, so long that he can't stop himself from devouring you, fitting that fat tongue inside you so he can lick up every last drop.
now he's beyond control, beyond sense as he takes off his armor, flinging it aside until his thick, swollen cock is exposed. it's so long, so broad, that you're certain it won't fit inside you.
I'll prepare you well, princess, he assures you, stretching you even wider with his hand until you're slick and gaping. with his strange haunches he has to lift your ass until, at last, he can slip the blunt head of his bull cock into you.
you gasp and writhe, still not sure that it will fit, but your minotaur knight holds you fast, his tail flicking behind him as he pushes in deeper.
oh, you feel like heaven, he mutters as he tests you, opening you, spreading you for his cock. his arms tremble as he holds himself back so he doesn't spear you through with the sheer size of him.
yet you beg for more, meeting him thrust for thrust until a wildness takes hold of him. his eyes glaze over as instinct kicks in, and he fucks you harder, pinning you to the ground as he makes you his. even after you've come all over his cock, he doesn't stop plunging into you, making you scream and clutch him tight.
when at last, he spills all of his seed inside you, there's so much that it gushes out. he pants on top of you, recovering his senses, and he apologizes for how brutishly he claimed you.
but you wouldn't have it any other way.
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imagine a training pod, invented by the scientists at a dragon conservation center to prepare volunteers for the repopulation program. when you climb into it for the first time, you notice there's a seat in the center with straps for your arms and legs. it's nothing to be alarmed about, the scientists reassure you—in fact, the straps are there to make sure you don't hurt yourself. they make sure you're fastened in securely, check the instruments and devices that are wired into the smooth, curved walls, and then leave, sealing the door behind them.
after a moment you start to shiver—the scientists asked you to undress before entering the pod, and you're entirely naked, the seat chilly beneath you—but before long the temperature rises a little and the voice of the computer running the training program asks if you're more comfortable now. before you have a chance to answer, the pod begins to move around you, splaying your legs apart and pulling your arms up until you're spreadeagled. then some kind of smooth, blunt probe begins to press between your legs. you ask the computer what's happening and it tells you not to panic—this is all perfectly normal, but it's easier if you relax. you notice a faint shimmer in the air, like pollen or mist, and before you can wonder what it is, you begin to feel yourself getting warm and woozy, going limp in the harness. the probe between your legs starts to slide in easily, and before long it's fully seated inside of you—then it expands until it's stretching you to your limit, a plug perfectly formed to your insides.
whatever is getting pumped to your air isn't just making you relaxed—it's making you aroused, you realize, as you begin to squirm around the plug, trying to get more friction. after a moment, the computer relents and the plug begins to vibrate. before long, you come and then come again, but the plug doesn't stop—it just keeps expanding and vibrating and expanding and vibrating as your eyes roll back in your head and your legs begin to shake in the harness. by the time it pauses, giving you a moment to catch your breath, it feels twice the size it used to be, enormous and thick inside of you, but you don't feel any pain or stretch. in fact, you feel like you could take an even bigger plug without any trouble—and you want to try.
the computer tells you how well you're doing, that you're making great progress and that it's very important you're as relaxed as possible for this next part. the shimmer in the air gets stronger, and a second probe begins to push against your ass. this one is slippery, and it slips in after only a moment's resistance, sliding much deeper than the other probe—and then it too starts to expand until it's plugging you perfectly, curving around the bends in your guts, making your belly dome out slightly as it fills out inside of you. you know what's coming next, but it still makes you moan when the plug starts to vibrate and grow—both of them do, in fact, pushing against each other and thrumming inside of you. when you look down, you can see the faint shape of them through your belly, the way your abdomen is stretched to accommodate them, and the thought of how much bigger they could possibly get makes you come for the first time—but not the last.
when the plugs stop vibrating this time, the computer says that there's just one more step in your training. it's not very likely, but dragons are very virile, so there's a chance that you'll get bred on your very first try, and it's very important that your body is prepared to carry whatever kind of young a particular species produces—whether it's a clutch of enormous eggs or a litter of live young—which means that it isn't just your holes that need stretching but your womb. as soon as the computer says this, you hear a whir and liquid starts pumping into you through both plugs. there must be a reservoir somewhere in the tank; you can't tell what the fluid is, but by the way it moves inside of you, it feels viscous. you wonder if this is what dragon cum will feel like, so thick and warm, immediately making your belly swell. by the time the pump stops, your belly is so big that your navel has popped out and you can feel yourself swaying forward in the harness.
the computer gives you a few minutes to get used to the stretch and weight, then says that this stage usually lasts a few hours to give subjects a chance to grow accustomed to the sensation, but you've done so well at every stage so far that you've been authorized to complete additional training if you want. it'll take a little longer, but it means you'll be able to carry even larger clutches or litters—is that something you'd want to do? of course it is, and the minute you say so the pump whirs back to life. but this time the plugs start to grow inside of you again, both of them vibrating as well, your belly already starting to swell. just a few hours, the computer says, and you'll be the perfect match for any dragon in search of a mate, whether that means packing your womb full of hard-shelled eggs glowing like embers or pumping it full of hot, potent cum that is sure to knock you up instantly—reshaped and trained to become a perfect breeder, fulfilling your true purpose at last.
you've been chosen as your village's offering for the winter and suspended from a carefully tied webbing of ropes, decorated with baubles and ribbons, tied to the thickest branch of the ancient oak that marks the village's furthest outskirts. there's a chilly breeze, but even though you're naked, you can hardly feel it—you're too distracted by the unfamiliar weight of your stomach, hanging down below you, and the faint chiming that comes from it every time the wind makes you swing. the village witch explained that this was part of the ritual, the balms and salves she used to work you open and then anoint the deepest part of yourself—and then the slender, smooth glass instruments she used to slowly dilate you until the entrance to your womb was as loose and relaxed as a second cunt.
then she started to fill you with silver bells, each a smooth sphere with a clapper hidden inside that chimed as it slid into your womb and bumped against the bells already there. the more bells, the better the offering, she said, and by the time she was done, nodding with approval at the heavy, jingling swell of your belly, she told you that you might be the village's finest offering yet.
so now you hang, watching the spirit of winter—an entity with tightly curled ram's horns and split hooves—come toward you, its cock swinging free between its legs and already starting to stiffen and fill, listening to the faint music emanating inside of you. when it reaches you, the spirit squeezes your belly gently, muffling its chimes—although you can still feel the thrumming vibrations they send through you, making you whimper and twitch. you seem to meet its satisfaction; after weighing you in its enormous palm for a moment, it steps up behind you and starts to work its cock into you.
even with all the balms and salves, it's a tight fit; its cock has a flared head that, when it finally pops into you, makes you gasp with the bluntness of the sensation, and then, when it's halfway in, you feel a ridge pressing against your entrance before it finally slips through, rubbing and tugging inside of you. your belly jingles with every thrust, the bells chiming so clearly that you wonder if they're audible back in the village—if everyone knows what's happening to make that music, the sound of your sacred coupling. bound and suspended as you are, you're helpless to thrust back or seek any pleasure of your own. the spirit fucks you, taking what it wants and needs, and you hang there and take it, eyes rolling back in your head, limbs twitching against their bonds, hoping that the sheer sensation of its size and heft, combined with the ever-present jingling and thrumming of the bells, will be enough to make you come.
finally, as the spirit's thrusts speed up and become more irregular, you feel pleasure building deep in your belly, your hips, your full, heavy womb, and as it shoves its cock deep into you one last time, you come so hard that your entire body goes rigid. you clench reflexively, and you can feel every twitch of its cock as it spurts inside of you, every hot splash of cum, until the totality of your pleasure is too much for you and your vision goes white.
when you come back to yourself, the spirit has rearranged and retied the ropes so that you're bound to its front, its cock still hard and deep inside of you as it carries you toward the woods. your belly is still chiming with every step, although the sound is more muffled now; you look down and realize that's because it's plugged you full of its cum. your belly is, impossibly, even fuller, your belly button popped out—a sign of things yet to come, you think, because there's no way you aren't pregnant, with that much seed inside of you and more spurting into your womb with every step. if this is how full you are now, imagine how round you'll be once its young are fully grown, jostling inside of your swollen, chiming belly, playing with the bells that, you realize, will be their first toys—a suitable offering indeed.

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The sigil on the door was that of Feronia, the goddess of passion and fertility. I was merely the altar at which they prayed. Most didn't deign to tell me what they were seeking, though I heard a few mumbled prayers from time to time. They came at all hours of the day, crouching through the low door into the cozy space. They would admire the candles and the general ambiance for a few moments before finding me, lying on a table covered only in sheer cloth.
Some would prepare the offering themselves. The elves usually did, considering themselves better than the lowly human altar. I would watch them disrobe, touching themselves in some serene state. I would watch their eyes close and their breath deepen, surely thinking of some memory or fantasy. They would mutter a short prayer before waking up and spraying my chest with their silken ropes. They usually stuck around to watch my skin glow, Her light absorbing their seed. My skin would return to its pristine state and they would return to theirs, donning their robes and departing without a word.
Some would use my body to get off, my mouth or my pussy or my ass. The dwarves tended to prefer it that way, and I always looked forward to their visits. I loved to hear their grunts as they took my head in their hands, thrusting into my throat with no concern for my well-being. Feronia granted me breath when I was on the table, and so even the deepest of thrusts posed me no issue. The ladies of the realm would take advantage of this endlessly, riding my face through wave after wave after wave of pleasure. When they were done my entire face would be slick with their cum, and it too would glow with Her acceptance.
The most popular attractions of the altar, however, were the miracles you received if you made it cum. If you worked my clit while fucking me, or knelt between my legs to use your tongue, or even pinched my nipples particularly hard, you would be given a gift. Her power would flow through me, giving you a glimpse of the future, or extraordinary strength, or arcane powers beyond your understanding. Often they would ask for a specific boon, but I'm not sure if that ever worked. All I know is Her constant renewal meant I kept cumming, kept taking their prayers, their offerings, their cries to the heavens.
When they were gleeful for a full harvest, they would sing to the heavens while they pumped their load into my ass. When they were seeking knowledge, they would suck on my clit until I came again and again. When they were angry at the gods, they showed it in every thrust down my throat. I fielded every confession, every plea, every joyous praise, and I thanked Her for every opportunity to serve.
On occasion, a couple trying to conceive would attend the temple together. An orc would plunge his cock deep into my mouth while his spouse made me cum with their tongue, hoping the mystical energies flowing through us would enchace the sperm. Once my orgasm had subsided, he would take them right on top of me, fucking them with my spit still on his cock. Whatever cum oozed out afterwards would glow with Her light, and I knew they would be blessed.
During particularly busy hours, I would have two or three patrons at a time. Some even came in parties, seeking some blessing for their whole clan. They would take me in whatever holes they preferred, hoisting me up over the table and suspending me on their cocks.
A few clever patrons would arrive before dawn, lifting the sheer fabric that covered my body at night. They would wake me from my slumber and spend the next several hours praying before my clit, eliciting reward after reward between my quivering legs. When they were satisfied they had got what they came for, they would leave me trembling on the table, parting to go about their day.
Every person I meet is given some reward for their tribute, their devotion. Some may take solace in their faith, while others use it as an outlet. I, however, take pleasure in my position as the link between their world and the gods'. For while they may receive gifts within their purview of their world, I received something far greater upon first stepping into this temple. I received a purpose: to dole out gifts, rewards, and boons while taking only passion in return.
Unwavering, neverending passion.
You know Halsin would be into breeding. That boy would be balls deep in you and you'd whisper breed me and he'd slow, not stop but slow, holding you close, murmur into your ears, "You want me to fill you, my love? Give you a precious gift? For me? For us?" and you would squirm and moan and beg and promise that you want to give, want to have nature's bounty inside your belly, and then he would growl and even if he doesn't transform you would feel that heat and weight and power as he turns from a gentle lover into a wild animal, pounding you as you cum and through your orgasm into another until he pours his heat inside you, lazily stroking your clit with his big rough hands until you clench and moan again and he'd kiss your shoulder where he might have gotten a little bitey and then sigh and lean back... "We'll have to go again, you understand. Just to make sure it takes." and he would move his sticky hand to stroke your flat belly and you would shudder and know that you were going to be fucked into jelly until he could clearly see your belly swollen with his young.
concept: slime monster girlfriend whose cum solidifies into eggs
she thrusts roughly into you, panting and desperate, and pumps you full of cum, enough to make you look impossibly pregnant. her thick cock floods you with a jelly substance that is thick enough to stretch you open. you can feel it sitting solidly in your inflated stomach. but when your girlfriend pulls out, the jelly quickly melts away into individual eggs, each one an inch in diameter. but the small size doesn’t help when there’s hundreds of them rolling inside you. they pour out of you, two or three or more at a time, dropping from your leaking hole and spreading you apart and pressing so, so tightly inside your stretched-out stomach, and naturally you get looser as you give birth to more, which only means the eggs come out faster and faster.
you bite down on your girlfriend’s hand.
for reference these are the eggs
imagine getting fucked by a ghost that turns your belly transparent so you can see it inside of you: its thick cock stretching your cunt, the head nudging up against your cervix every time it thrusts in, and the way it twitches and throbs, getting ready to pump you full. and because it's a ghost, it can just keep fucking you—so you watch it spurt into your womb over and over again until you're bulging with its cum, but even then it doesn't stop, coming again and again until your belly starts to swell. by the time it finally pulls out, your womb is filled to the brim, and because its cum is otherworldly it all stays plugged up inside of you without a single leak or drip—which means that your belly stays transparent, swollen with glowing seed and well and truly filled
breeding sesh

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fuck, I wish sex portals were real.
imagine you're trying to wash dishes when you feel something touching your cunt. startled, you spin around to find no one there, but the touching persists. now that something, fingers it seems, are slowly pumping in and out of you.
a whine escapes your mouth. you're leaning against the sink, legs spread wide, as if to give the fingers better access. some fingers start rubbing your clit. then the fingers in your cunt are gone, much to your disappointment. those fingers are now spreading your pussy lips. what for?
something new is rubbing against your cunt. something thicker and harder. you inhale in anticipation. slowly, too slowly, the cock enters you, stretching you around it. you moan as it slowly fills you up, bottoming out in you. it pauses for a brief moment before pumping in and out fast. you struggle to stay standing as it keeps fucking you at this relentless pace.
between this and the fingers on your clit, you could feel an orgasm building up. more and more you felt yourself get closer to orgasm. there was nothing you could do to stop it, you could could clamp your legs closed but the fucking wouldn't stop.
your head snaps back and you loudly moan as you cum, clit and pussy pulsing in pleasure. the cock keeps fucking you through your orgasm. it pauses balls deep in you for a few moments then rams you once, twice, three times. then it and the phantom fingers are gone.
shakily, you stand up right, taking your pants off to inspect yourself. a white creamy fluid is pooling in your underwear.
you see your phone light up out of the corner of your eye. it's a message from a long distance friend of yours. it's a video of them with a fleshlight that strangely looks a lot like your pussy. a text reads "god, you felt good 🤤"
gale would find out your kinks and go studying for days and then next thing you know you're in an illusion with tentacles holding you in the air as he kisses you and smirks and murmurs in your ear that he's going to make you his breeder of exotic monsters and then he'll have you screaming and swelling and utterly lost in it and after you're done he'd clean you and hold you gently and kiss you softly and when you're like god that was amazing how did you make it feel so realistic he'll be like it was real I found this old book and you look down and realise you're still gravid with monster eggs and you're going to have to lay them but he swears he'll take care of you every single day until they're out and you've never loved someone so much and make him swear he'll summon it again when this lot is out
Constantly pregnant matron mother. Ostensibly she’s repopulating her House but everyone knows she’s got a fetish

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yeah anyway
Dragonborn are hot as hell though like damn they're all so huge and scaled and wonderful and god fuck just imagine you're riding her thick knotted cock every day, she loves to touch you and hold you close and rub your soft human skin oh so gently because you're breakable, feeling her claws and fangs on you when you kiss or she gets excited and bites your shoulders
and you're not using protection because, well, dragonborn can't get humans pregnant, so you can just enjoy how it feels whenever she cums raw in you and fills you and that knot makes sure none of it comes loose and it always feels so good...
so when your belly starts swelling she doesn't think much at first, until one night she's laying there with you dozing on her knot and frowns as her thumb rubs over your soft belly, and she presses down and feels something hard, but that's definitely not possible. Only now she's noticed it's obvious how rapidly it's growing
and next month you can't deny that it's there, a solid heavy weight, and a dragonborn doula confirms that - somehow - unbelievably - you have two dragonborn eggs growing inside your womb. You never thought it would happens, but you're both unbelievably happy...
oaugh