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piceuscelus · 25 days
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Gerilla is gold
HERA gajkgajkagh;jkae oeat
oh my god 😂
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piceuscelus · 25 days
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weird asks abound but at least the one is just funny. fully not knowingly inviting that evil into my life tho.
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piceuscelus · 25 days
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Hey. Can you please give me an invitation to discord or your discord. I'd like to ask you something.
hi, uh
i'm not gonna hand out an invite to D3 or my personal discord to an anon ask. if you're the person in my DMs right now as well, i'm also not super comfortable giving discord links to a blank blog with no further information.
if you are the person in my DMs, feel free to ask me whatever you'd like there. or if you're not, DM me here on tumblr and ask. i'm friendly and talkative, but this is...... weird.
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piceuscelus · 1 month
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Hello hello fantastic writer of fic! I’d looooove to see some content where person A is immobilised in a gimp suit or the like with a vibrator set up against their cock/cunt. While person B forces orgasms from person A, person A is either choking on a dildo down their throat or a real cock that is frequently blocking their only airway. Choking and asphyxiation and being unable to do anything about it… nose blocked by the mask… suddenly getting a mouthful of cum… mmmm yessssss. Could be Ciri or Lambert in the suit maybe? Or Jask. Could also be A/B/O with some “you know you need this, just one more for me little Omega…. And another one… and another one…” Super flexible on whatever you want or if this even takes your fancy ✨✨✨
i'm always here for throatfucking :D
on ao3 here, but short enough for a tumblr post!
breathplay/asphyxiation, forced orgasms, sex slavery, and bondage are the big warnings, see the ao3 tags for more
Geralt finally finds Ciri in a side hallway, on her knees with her back to the wall as one of the servants fucks her throat. She’s sitting very nicely for it, even when she chokes, hands folded neatly in her lap as the boy’s movements rock her head into the wall. 
At the sound of his steps, the servant freezes. When he turns to see Geralt standing there he flushes crimson and starts to stammer, “S-Sir, I’m – ”
Geralt waves away his panicked apology before it forms. “Don’t stop on my account.” He gestures toward Ciri, who has begun moving her head back and forth in the absence of the boy’s own movements, tongue working as she goes. He grins, proud. 
“It’s what she’s here for, after all,” he continues, as he looks back at the boy. “Go on.”
The boy seems unsure, for a moment, but when Ciri leans forward to force his cock down her throat, choking softly, he appears convinced. One of his hands drops from the wall to her head, holding her down, and Ciri’s shoulders shake, but she doesn’t fight him. He groans.
Geralt waits until he’s finished shaking through his orgasm to speak again. “If her mouth weren’t free to use, it’d be plugged like her other holes.”
The boy is still gasping, but he nods. “Y-yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Geralt chuckles. “No need to thank me. In fact – Cirilla, be a good girl.”
Ciri pulls back from where she’d been cleaning up the mess on the boy’s cock, blinking up at him. “Thank you for using me, Sir,” she says, sweetly, and Geralt muffles a snort when the boy’s entire body twitches.
“...yeah, of course,” he says, clearly unsure, and Geralt decides to take mercy.
“I do need her, though,” he says. “And I am sure there is something you ought to be doing.”
“Fu – yes, of course, Sir, sorry, Sir.” The boy is gone in a flash. Geralt’s not entirely sure he managed to put his cock away first.
Ciri stays on her knees, mouth swollen, just looking at Geralt with her wide, sparkling eyes. She looks innocent – or, well, as innocent as a branded slave can look, a belt around her hips keeping her cunt and ass plugged, chain dangling between her pierced nipples and not a single stitch of actual clothing – but Geralt knows the twinkle in her eye well.
“Dangerous little minx,” he says, and she simpers. “C’mon, up. We have guests tonight with very particular tastes, and you’ll be the entertainment.”
– – – – –
Ciri knows that particular tastes usually means extreme tastes, but somehow she’s still not expecting the elaborate contraption she finds when Geralt leads her down to the special entrance foyer. 
Lambert, of course, looks thrilled. That just puts her more on edge, especially when he produces a slim vial full of brightly-colored liquid. 
“Gonna be a good girl?” he asks, twisting the vial so the liquid shifts and she can see the way it swirls.
Geralt’s hand lands on the nape of her neck. “Of course she’s going to be good,” he answers for her. She shivers, and his hand slips down, from her nape to her ass, where he grips hard enough to ache. “Aren’t you, Cirilla?”
She swallows, belly squirming even as she clenches around the plugs keeping her full and stretched open. “Yes, Master,” she answers. Of course she’ll be good – she is good, she’s a perfect slave, Geralt’s favorite and most prized possession. No matter her trepidation, she’ll do whatever her Master wants of her. 
She’s mischievous, but only where she’s allowed to be – like luring a random servant boy into fucking her throat for fun. 
“Then take your medicine,” Lambert says, and uncorks the vial to hand it to her. She takes it, carefully, and upends the entire thing into her mouth.
It’s cloyingly sweet, enough it almost stings, but she swallows it down without a complaint, handing the vial back. Lambert shoves it and the cork into a pocket and then gestures toward the contraption in the center of the room.
“You get her set up here while I grab the rest,” he says, to Geralt, and Ciri follows easily when she’s pulled toward the….
Well, it’s not quite a chair. It’s got four legs, arms, a back, and…most of a seat. There’s enough of a seat to consider it a chair, probably, but it’s got a massive hole in the center. That in and of itself isn’t terribly strange – she’s seen similar before, though that was when she was in training, not Geralt’s slave – but the rest of the attachments to the chair are entirely unfamiliar.
Metal loops protrude from the front legs and the tops of the arms, as well as one secured to the back; two strange post-like things sit under the hole in the chair, secured to the back legs; and there’s a strange sort of rod protruding horizontally from the back of the hair, much higher than the metal loop, with a little hook dangling from it.
Geralt drags her to the chair, then reaches into his pocket and produces a small, familiar key. She whines, when the belt unlatches and her plugs shift, holes clenching hard instinctually, and Geralt laughs.
“Let go,” he says, and she whines again but relaxes, letting him pull the plugs free of her body and set the belt to the side. She squirms, the emptiness feeling more intense than usual – whatever Lambert had her drink, most likely, making her hyperaware of the need that’s always at a low simmer in her belly.
“Sit,” Geralt orders.
She hums an acknowledgement so he knows she’s not ignoring him, but moves slowly, trying to be careful not to just fall through the hole in the middle of the chair. She finds she has to reach down and spread her ass open to get her weight distributed right, and it makes her even more aware of how empty she is, cunt and ass bared to the cold air as she settles into the chair.
“Good.” Geralt crouches in front of her and moves her left leg back, until her calf is pressed against the chair leg. The metal loop at the bottom comes around her ankle, and she feels him twist something until it’s tight. The other loop goes around just below her knee, and then the process repeats with her other leg.
She shifts her arms to be centered on the chair’s arms before Geralt can ask or move her, and he grins. 
“Good girl.” 
Her arms are secured at the wrist and the elbow, and then Geralt is standing and pressing her back, just slightly, until he can secure the last metal loop around her throat. She’s left sitting ramrod-straight in the chair, secured so tightly that she can barely move a quarter of an inch in any direction.
Her belly swoops and her cunt throbs. Geralt pets her hair for a moment, and then shuffles away to do – something. She can turn her head a little, but the metal around her throat is tight enough that it hurts to do it for long. She’s left staring straight forward. 
It means she can see Lambert, when he returns, carrying an unfamiliar mass of leather and a large box.
“These are the ones they sent, right?” he asks Geralt, and sets the box down to open it. She can’t quite see what’s inside it from the angle she’s at.
Geralt returns to her line of vision to look down into the box. “Mhm.”
“Alright, did they have a preference for which one in what hole?” Lambert asks, and well, that answers the question as to what’s in the box.
“Just that they wanted her uncomfortable,” Geralt answers, and Lambert hums, reaching into the box to fiddle with something.
“Alright.”
He picks up the box again and makes his way behind the chair. From the sound of it, he’s fairly close to her, but she can’t quite figure out where he is until his hand brushes her ass.
The way she jumps almost hurts, the metal around her limbs digging in, and she makes a soft, mewling sort of noise. Lambert laughs.
“Settle,” he murmurs, and then there’s some rustling and metallic sounds before something large and slick is pressed to her cunt. She sucks in a breath, but tries not to tense. Lambert’s surprisingly gentle about it, but gentle doesn’t necessarily mean slow.
She’s already panting, when he finishes pushing the toy into her, unable to do anything else since she can’t squirm. It’s not quite the largest thing she’s ever taken, but it’s damn close, and there’s no variation in the girth of it – it’s the same size around from the head to the base, forcing her cunt uncomfortably wide from her entrance clear to where the head presses threateningly against her cervix. 
There’s more movement behind her, and then another large, slick toy is being pressed against her asshole. She makes a soft, panicked little noise, half-breathless, but the pressure doesn’t relent. Lambert doesn’t even say anything, not to make fun of her or chastise her for the way she continues to whimper with panic. Once again, he’s gentle, but not slow, and this toy is noticeably bigger than the one in her cunt.
Still not the largest she’s ever taken in her ass, but the combination of the two at once is absolutely the most she’s ever taken at once. She whines, startled, when she feels tears drip from her cheeks to her collarbone. She hadn’t realized she was crying. She’s still making quiet, animal sounds, even as she gasps, and the feeling of her guts rearranging to accommodate the toy only makes it worse. She can’t look down to see, but she’s almost certain that her belly is bulging.
“There you go,” Lambert says, finally, just when she’s certain she’ll start to choke if anything more is forced into her body. “How are you feeling?”
She tries to answer – she tries, mouth fumbling around “Sir”, but all she can really manage is a choked whimper. 
Now Lambert laughs. “Give it another few minutes, and you’ll be fine.”
“Or maybe she needs another dose?” Geralt asks, appearing in front of her. He looks mildly concerned. She tries to smile at him; she doesn’t know if she succeeds. She still feels like she might choke on the pressure of the toys sunk into her guts.
Lambert hums. “It’s not impossible, but give it a bit longer anyway.”
Geralt nods. “On to the rest, then.”
The rest turns out to be the mass of leather, which pulls apart into three separate and very differently sized masses of leather. One piece, she recognizes; ring gags are familiar, enough that all Geralt has to do is hold it up for her to see and she’s opening her mouth as wide as she can get it.
It turns out that she can’t quite open her mouth wide enough, not by herself, but Geralt has no qualms forcing her; she whines, as Geralt forces the steel ring behind her teeth, and he ignores her. It hurts, her jaw and lips stretched too-wide, but Geralt just pets some of her saliva over the straining corners of her mouth and then buckles the gag around her head securely.
The second leather piece appears to be a simple strip, wide and sort of cushioned in places. She has no idea what it could be for until Lambert places it over her eyes and ties it around her head – it’s a blindfold. More importantly, though, the padding sits on the sides, directly over her ears, and muffles her hearing.
She mewls, half-panicked again, and Geralt’s hand pets over her cheek. She can hear him say – something, and she recognizes the tone as soothing, but she can’t parse the words past the leather and stuffing over her ears.
She can’t see what’s coming next, so when leather and fingers are pressed to her face she jumps. There’s more muffled sound, Geralt’s voice again, and then there’s an entire mass of leather being pulled over her face, over her head. Her heart skips and then triples in speed, belly twisting, and the fear only intensifies when broad little nubs press to her nose, blocking off her breathing.
She panics, for a brief moment, unable to breathe until she remembers she can use her mouth. She thinks she hears Lambert laugh, but with the – hood? she thinks it must be a hood – on top of the sort-of-earmuffs, it’s nothing but susurration. 
The hood is secured around her head and around her throat, leaving only her gagged-open mouth free, tightening until she’s hyperaware of the nubs plugging her nose and the pores of the leather pressed to her face. Something pulls at the top of the hood, and then when the movement stops, she finds her head is entirely immobile, now.
The hook and the rod, at the top of the chair.
Her heart hammering nearly hurts, now, but she’s started to pant, and she can feel her cunt throbbing around the toy buried inside her. Lambert’s medicine starting to kick in for real, just like he’d said it would.
There’s more murmur of sound around her, indistinguishable from the rush of her blood and her own labored breathing except for the pattern breaks, and then something cold and round presses hard and unrelenting against her swollen clit. She knows she makes some kind of sound about it – it reverberates through her skull, she can feel the vibration in her throat, but she doesn’t really know what kind of noise it is.
And then the bulb buzzes to life, and she absolutely screams.
– – – – –
They force her to come twice, with the vibrator, and then turn it off, and the room goes mostly silent around her. She’s left panting and drooling, probably-alone, entire body throbbing with aftershocks and the intensity of…everything. Her cunt and ass stretched uncomfortably wide, her belly cramping with the intrusions and the pressure on her cervix; her skin hypersensitive to the shifts in the air and the slow slide of her drool dripping down her body, nipples painfully hard; her vision and hearing entirely removed, nothing but blackness and rushing silence.
And then there’s a cock dragging over her tongue, sinking into her mouth, and without any preamble, down her throat.
She chokes, but there’s no escaping the pressure of it, and she can’t breathe, nose plugged and throat stuffed to match her other holes.
Her heart stops, painfully, and then stutters back into equally-painful speed, and she feels how her skin bruises as her body tries to jerk.
She sobs, when the cock finally retreats, sucking in breath, but she barely gets the time for anything real before it’s back, throbbing in the clutch of her throat and making her convulse. There’s sound, close enough that she can tell it’s there, but she doesn’t know what it is – voices, she thinks, but she can’t tell what they’re doing, talking or laughing or anything else.
Whoever is fucking her throat clearly has very little concern for her breathing, only letting her get half-breaths a every few thrusts, and it takes no time at all for her to be half-delirious. She’s dizzy and her head is pounding along with her heart and her cunt and ass are sore as she convulses around the too-big toys, arms and legs and throat tender where she’s jerking against the metal.
But the cock comes down her throat, and the heat that suffuses her at the taste – Pavlovian, the knowledge that she’s done well, made whoever is using her come – makes her desperate for more.
The vibrator turns on, and there’s another cock down her throat before she can even scream.
This one is bigger, and meaner; she’s certain she actually loses consciousness, once or twice, between the lack of air and being forced to come. Everything feels like it’s slowed to a crawl, even as her heart kicks with panic, her thoughts distant and soft-edged, her vision gone sparkling-white behind her eyelids and the blindfold. She can’t think, not really, except to alternate between resigned anxiety at the asphyxiation and deep-seated, vicious pleasure at being good and swallowing the cum she’s given.
She doesn’t have any thoughts, when they turn the vibrator on and force her to come too, and there’s only something like distant relief when they turn it off and give her a short break from bruising her insides with the spasms.
She’s helpless to it – the pleasure and the pain and the choking airlessness, the flickering consciousness. She’s…a toy. An object. She can hear her trainers, distantly, mantra repeating in her head: you’re an object to be owned, and your owner is your God.
She chokes violently around a new cock – this one is fake, a dildo, too large for her throat but forced down it anyway. Whoever is holding it doesn’t let her choking dislodge it, or even prevent them from forcing it deeper; no, another hand comes to the back of her stilled head and presses, until the base of the toy meets Ciri’s lips with a flare of tearing pain.
She can’t breathe, can't even choke, her throat is forced so wide that she’s all but paralyzed, caught like a bug with too-big toys in all of her holes, all of her senses except touch stolen. 
The vibrator buzzes back to life, and she peaks so hard and so fast, no air in her lungs, that she’s knocked unconscious before she can even spasm.
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piceuscelus · 2 months
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all your vibrant youth by piceuscelus
Chapters: 2/2 (17442 words) Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Renfri, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Renfri (The Witcher), Eskel (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Religious Cults, demon eskel, Blasphemy, Brothels, Sex Work, as a background setting mostly, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Masturbation, Homelessness, briefly, Sex Worker Renfri (The Witcher), First Time, Virgin Jaskier | Dandelion, Kneeling, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Loss of Virginity, Face-Sitting, Blindfolds, Threesome - F/M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Enthusiastic Consent, Consent Porn, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Mild Praise Kink Series: Part 1 of we all have a hunger
Summary:
“Oh god, oh god – ” “Would you make me your god, little magpie?” a voice asks, deep and rough, and something in Jaskier’s chest slots into place.
oh look another prequel to the demon!eskel happened :D
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piceuscelus · 2 months
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Serial killer verse anon again! I have so many questions abt this verse, do you mind if I message you directly?
go for it! fair warning that i'm about to go to bed, so i might not reply right away, but i'm always cool with messages tbh
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piceuscelus · 2 months
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I'm so curious, in the killing kind verse, will geralt ever actually end up killing ciri? Serial killers don't actually feel genuine love, so at some point she'll get old and not what society deems beautiful anymore, and she won't be able to bring him back presents anymore. What happens then, do you think? Will geralt still enjoy playing/using her anyways? Or would he get bored of her and take his first female victim?
honestly, i don't think he would kill her, except if ciri asked him to. (which she would only do if she was unable to take what he deals out and/or bring him presents anymore)
and it's not love (really, it's debatable that ciri in this verse is capable of love, too). the reason for this is that he's formed a fixation on her like he has killing; so much so, in fact (and i imply this in the time skip ending) that she's almost sort of replaced the killing, or if not replaced it, become such an integral part that he won't get bored of her, because she's a necessary part of it now. and even aside from the aspect of her as an accessory, an easy way to lure the victims he likes to kill, he likes toying with her in unethical and fairly dangerous ways (i haven't written that yet, but i plan to write some), so he would absolutely still be interested in using her even if she couldn't help with the "real" victims.
as far as the "what society deems beautiful" -- that wouldn't come into play, really. geralt didn't fixate on her because she was pretty. he fixated because she looked like a boy, looked like him, and most importantly, met his depravity where it was at and encouraged more. she's sick, not exactly like he is but similarly, and between that and all of the ways she's different from his victims, her beauty and youth aren't particularly a factor. they were a part of the initial draw, but not really why he kept her, overall.
and really, geralt is old enough to be her father. it's much more likely that he'll slow and become ill or even die, and thus be unable to continue killing, well before ciri would be out of commission as his pet or a lure for victims.
even if she were to become old enough to start a countdown on her usefulness/geralt's interest, that would still only start in her early to mid-thirties (so she would have more time after that before the countdown ran out). geralt would be approaching or over sixty, and while sixty isn't really old by any stretch, it is a point where the degradation of age starts to overwhelm most people, and kidnapping and fighting/killing teenage boys isn't exactly easy to do.
so, if ciri ever became geralt's first (and only) female victim, it would be because she asked him to, not because he snapped/became bored/moved on.
(can y'all tell i find serial killers and how they tick fascinating.)
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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It's my 3 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
lmfao fucking wild
I've written - *checks* - AT LEAST 426k for this trash bin (affectionate)
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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For the memorable scene. Fucktoy Ciri 'verse when they had Ciri drink the potions to make her virgin tight again and then fucking her open without any prep. And then it was Coen's turn 👀
hehehe i have two prompts in my inbox right now for something else using that potion :D
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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find the word! tag game, tagged by the ever menacing (beloved) @queerfictionwriter
words: "hiss", "fire", and "breathe"
hiss from a lambert/aiden AU with underage trans!aiden,
“Fucking hell, honey – Aiden, shit,” Lambert hisses, hand gone bloodless with how tightly he’s gripping the pillow still sort-of muffling him. “I’m – fuck you’re so hot – h-how far you lookin’ for, here, honey?” Aiden hums a question, knowing full well what he’s doing, and this time when Lambert jerks he shoves more of his cock into Aiden’s mouth – not enough to choke him, just enough he feels the urge to gag.  He…likes it. His belly twists and his heart skips, all some sort of preemptive fear, but his cunt clenches and his clit pulses, and – fuck. Fuck. 
fire from the jaskier prequel of the demon!eskel 'verse (featuring jaskier/renfri),
He hears Eskel chuckling, but doesn’t really pay any mind to it, entirely distracted with how he can make Renfri whimper and sigh with just his fingers on her chest. He’s certain that his inexperience is obvious, especially with how fixated he is, but it doesn’t seem like Renfri cares overmuch, not when she’s arching into each new touch and rocking her hips, grinding against his belly.  He’s so focused on her, in fact, that it isn’t until Eskel’s burning palm is wrapping around his cock that he even remembers he was promised an orgasm once he was on the bed. His entire body spasms at the touch, at the sudden, intense flare of pleasure, and Renfri giggles through a whine when that includes his hands on her tits.  Jaskier tries to speak, but mostly just chokes around a moan as Eskel’s hand moves. He feels, suddenly, like he’s going to vibrate straight out of his skin, because apparently his distraction hadn’t actually decreased how wound up he was. No, it seems the distraction had been just that, because all it takes is another two strokes to push him over the edge, fire flooding through his veins as he almost wails.
and breathe from one of the geralt/lambert prompts i got,
He stills, then, shifting to grind his aching cock against the bed as he waits for Lambert to adjust. He’s not worried about causing pain – Lambert loves pain, not that he’ll ever admit it out loud – but he doesn’t want to risk actual injury. However, as soon as Lambert loosens just a little, a modicum of relaxation rolling through him, Geralt is ducking forward and wrapping his mouth around Lambert’s cock again. Lambert screams.  Geralt hums around his cock and starts moving, rocking his fingers in and out, curling until he finds that sensitive little gland inside Lambert’s body. Lambert’s jerking hips make him choke, but he just breathes through it, moving his head and his fingers at the same pace, though the rhythm is mirrored – sinking to the base of Lambert’s cock when his knuckles are pressed against his twitching rim, pulling away and out at the same time. 
tagging @oldandkinky, @dead-dove-diner, @tossadollartoyourwitcher and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it, your words are "scream", "warn", and "stay"
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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y'all the jaskier prequal fic for the demon!eskel verse is. so fucking long. jesus christ.
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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consider...................ciri in a suit
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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For your prompts - I would LOVE to see a follow up to your newest portal fic. This could be a reprise with Ciri taken by surprise again. I would also love to see either Ciri teaming up with the wolves for some payback to Yennefer (she would suffer so deliciously and it’s only fair right?). They could even make Jaskier be the next surprise recipient but u admit a slight preference for Yen or Ciri.
i picked ciri again :D
same warnings as the original (this went up as a second chapter just now), plus extra emphasis on the free use
They use her like that all winter. Not always all at once like that – not always such an overwhelming, ravaging force. But still, they use her.
No matter where she is, what she’s doing, she comes to expect that there will be a cock shoved into her when she least expects it. Her cunt, her ass, her throat – they’re all free game, the Wolves making use of her holes whenever they have the free time, leaving her panting and leaking their cum at all hours of the day. Sometimes even when she’s with the others – she knows that whoever is missing is alone in their room, because she’ll have to sit and squirm through them fucking her while she talks to the others. 
She sees the looks they give her, though. Calculating and smug and knowing. Predatory. They know what they’re doing, and they know that she hates and loves it in equal measure, and that she’ll never stop them.
Still, despite the merciless disregard for what she’s doing during the winter, she’s certain that they’ll lay off in the spring. That the Path will take their minds off of using her like a toy, that her own travels will mean she’s too far away, maybe.
And then one day, in a no-name inn-slash-tavern in some backwater village in Aedirn, she nearly chokes on her meal at the sensation of a cock pressing roughly into her ass.
She bites her cheek so hard it bleeds to keep from making a sound, squeezing her eyes shut to hide how they roll, and leans back into the corner she’d chosen to sequester herself in. Being filled so suddenly hurts, makes her stomach twist, but even with the pain and shame twisting her guts, her cunt goes slick. She presses her thighs together and tries to breathe normally, tries not to give anything away as the cock rocks in and out of her ass.
She’s fairly certain it’s Coën. She’d started being able to tell, after the ordeal of winter, with the number of times there was only one of them missing during a dinner she spent sitting on an invisible cock. She doesn’t think her guesswork is perfect, but she has a fairly good grasp.
At the least, she knows it’s not Eskel or Geralt. No, their cocks are thicker, stretch her so much wider. 
She manages to keep quiet through it all, as the cock moves faster, presses deeper, until it finally fills her with cum and disappears, leaving her shaking, feeling wide-open and wet. She continues to tremble, as she finishes her food, and she stumbles a little as she gets up to go speak to the owner of the establishment. 
If he notices anything odd about her, he doesn’t say. He just takes her coin for a room, hands her a key, and gestures her up the stairs.
She barely waits for the door to close, doesn’t even bother locking it, before she’s leaning against the wall and getting her hand into her pants, feeling the mess she made and the mess he left.
She comes so hard her knees give out.
– – – – –
After that, she’s more cautious – paranoid, almost, waiting for one of them to use her again. Even with the vigilance, though, she can never quite prepare for one of them to start fucking her.
She wakes up to it, one morning in Rivia, a puddle of her own slick making the inn sheets stick to her thighs as one of them – Vesemir, maybe, or Lambert – fucks her cunt hard and deep, and she barely muffles her screams in the pillow, coming twice before the onslaught is over. (And then a third time once the cock disappears, unable to stop herself rubbing her clit raw.)
Another time, she goes to say something to a beggar in Brugge, and suddenly chokes on the pressure of a cockhead sinking into her mouth. She covers the way she can’t really close her mouth and makes an apologetic gesture before ducking into an alley, sinking one hand into her breeches while either Geralt or Eskel makes good use of her throat. She only just manages to muffle the sound of her choking, and then of her orgasm as the cock pulls out of her throat and comes across her tongue.
Then its her ass again, not long after the throat-fucking in the alley, finding herself leaned against some random fence as she’s forced open – definitely Eskel, this time, tears springing to her eyes as she bites her lip bloody to stop from shouting. She considers, briefly, getting some kind of plug in the city, but then again – she doesn’t know if she could handle the feeling of being fucked with it inside, stretched around some heavy piece of metal and one of their cocks. He fucks her through two of his own orgasms, and one of her own, and she stumbles blindly into the nearby woods to get off three more times before she passes out for a midday nap.
It goes like that for weeks. Her ass again in an inn, her cunt while she sits and talks to an alderman, waking up to choking on one of them in the woods, choking on another later that day as she tries to eat, sitting down at a festival just to feel one of them sink into her ass and another into her cunt almost simultaneously.
No matter where she is, no matter what she’s doing, exactly like the winter – she’s their toy, at their mercy any time they’d like.
She wants to hate it, but each time it happens, each time she thinks it – thinks of herself as an object, as theirs, a fucktoy for them to use as they please, all she can do to cope is rub at her clit until she’s dizzy and sore.
– – – – –
It’s early winter, the first snows just starting to stick, and she’s headed back in the direction of Kaer Morhen. She’s spent an entire year on the path being roughly fucked any time one of them got the itch, and she’s half-hurrying her trip home just to have some more, to see the way they look at her when she’s got cum dripping down her chin in the middle of an afternoon, when she stumbles out of her room sore from a night of being used.
To see if maybe she’ll find the courage to beg them to fuck her for real, this winter.
She’s made up a camp in a cave on the edge of the Blue Mountains, resting for a few days before she makes the real trek up. It’s been nearly a week, maybe more, since one of them has used her, and it’s – strange, really, how when she doesn’t have it for a while she starts to miss it.
She keeps thinking she should hate it, knows that sometimes she does, when one of them shoves their cock into her while she’s trying to have a conversation, or trying to fulfill a contract. But the hatred never lasts as long as the need, the ache for more.
And then she wakes in the early hours of the morning, gagging on a teasing press at the back of her throat, and realizes very suddenly that they’ve planned something.
That cock teasing at her throat finally sinks in, leaving her choking and spasming, but before she can wake up enough to try and breathe around it, there’s another pressing into her cunt.
And then another, right after the first, and two forcing their way into her ass immediately after.
She’s so full she’s sure she’ll splinter in half, convulsing and gagging on the cock still using her throat, and then all of them are moving at once.
Her vision is swimming, black spots floating haphazardly through the bursts of color she sees as she’s forced into an orgasm that makes her scream. Her spasming doesn’t deter them from fucking her, one cock moving from her cunt to her ass, leaving her feeling so full she’s certain that’s what she’s choking on, instead of the cock still making her throat bulge.
She’s drooling and sobbing and when she worms a hand between her thighs, and touching her clit hurts, the pleasure so sharp it’s near indistinguishable from pain. Especially as the five of them keep fucking her, no rhythm or cohesiveness, just fucking her so full she’s on the verge of blacking out.
Through orgasm after orgasm, consciousness fading in and out like a shuttered lantern, they keep fucking her. Filling her not just with their cocks but also their cum – orgasm after orgasm they spill into her, while she’s still spasming and trembling from her own, until she’s so full each time they fuck into her she squelches. She thinks at some point the cocks move – different ones in her cunt, in her ass, a new one in her throat, but she doesn’t know for sure and can’t make herself really care.
They fuck her like that for hours. Until she can’t come anymore, or she just stops coming down, until her vision has faded out and all she can really focus on is the sensation of being ravaged, until finally she really, truly blacks out.
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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The anal scene from the groomed Ciri story. The casual disregard Jaskier has in that one is just. So good.
Tbf that whole story stuck with me. Still kind of hoping for a continuation/more of how he trained her... 👉👈
i had to go reread this one, tbh, and hell, it is good lmao
i'm not against continuing that one, though i don't have any specific ideas (i held off on responding to this to try and come up with any, and was unsuccessful)
so, uh
if anyone has any particular wants / ideas / etc for this one, let me know, we can see if something sparks the muse
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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Geralt scruffing Ciri in that tavern lives rent free
oh apparently i did not see this
and uh. i think this one might be another one that was not me, but was my lovely @golden-kinks instead? i think. i might be forgetting a fic i wrote where geralt did that (always possible), but are you talking about this fic?
if not, please send me the fic of mine you're thinking of lmao
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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The newest painal piece has me wondering who the guests are that Eskel and Lambert sometimes bring, and if those guests would ever join in. I'm picturing Coën or Aiden being just as mean as Lambert, or Letho, who's so big he has to fuck Ciri last.
Or are their guests other fuck toys, who can show Ciri what experience looks like?
oh, those other guests are 100% the other witchers
coen and aiden, obviously, but ghhhhhfkadkjl i hadn't considered letho and holy shit
that would be EXTREMELY fun. have another dinner where ciri's the desert and all of them fuck her in a row,,,,
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piceuscelus · 3 months
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one thing i need by piceuscelus
Chapters: 1/1 (5069 words) Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Characters: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Christmas, Teen Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Unresolved Sexual Tension, at least kind of unresolved, Kissing, Teasing, Crisis of Morals, Age Difference, Gift Giving, Sex Toys, Implied Masturbation, Workplace Relationship, but only kind of lmao, Forced Orgasm, Coquette Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon Series: Part 3 of santa's baby
Summary:
There’s no way that Ciri is an elf. And then she’s turning, holding one of the fake boxed gifts, and grinning at him like the sun. Fuck. Ciri comes back to see Santa again, with a brand-new wish for Christmas.
merry christmas :D
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