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cuntysalamanderjuices · 29 days

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18+

I (an extradimensional abomination from beyond this reality) got a new pet <3

this one could have used more detail. Regardless, enjoy

Cw: cannibalism, rape/noncon, gang rape, gore, icky body descriptions of a non-human, catatonia and cataplaxia, penetration of a sleeping person

Summary (contains graphic details):

First person narrative, alternating between two sets of events. A physically enormous extradimensional monster with, among other things, mounds of tentacles notices a gang rape in progress of six men assaulting one man, who is referred to as "Para." The being decides it wants the victim for itself, so it mind-controls the rapists into performing specific actions, including cannibalism and further sexual assault. It then takes the victim back to a home dimension to keep as a pet. This entails psychologically traumatizing him, forcing an orgasm, anal penetration, and force-feeding from a gross teet. The creature self identifies as an abomination and causes anguish on purpose. It's body is ill-defined. One mind-controI victim is referred to as a hatrack.

I (an extradimensional abomination from beyond this reality) got a new pet <3

Para was quite lovely when he was asleep. The quality that had initially drawn me to him was the way his body responded to stress by going almost completely flaccid. The arm that I had pushed into him, curling through his colon, met almost no resistance anymore from his anal sphincter, even though it was stretched to the capacity his pelvis would allow. His little body was roped with shallow gouges from where I had grabbed him, and although most of them had scabbed over, a few gently oozed, providing a glittering effect. His penis, large for his body and hung most of the way to his knees, was very soft and velvety, topped with a bush so fluffy you would think he'd had it custom grown. He was quite pale now compared with before I caught him. His fingertips especially were ashen and anemic.

He was probably very cold. My body does not produce heat. He lay there, naked and wan, on a bed of my tentacles; the only sign that he was even alive was the rapid, shallow pulse of his diaphragm, pushing against his floating ribs on one side. On the other, the way he was curved made a little paunch in his body. It was pretty flesh, and I very much looked forward to giving him more of it. It had been so long since I had a pet.

Para was a rescue. I had found him in the hands of six big men, each taking turns with his body - his shirt, the one I divested him of later, hung off his battered body, his knees trembled from the attempt to support him, and his chin was spotted with crusts of dried semen. He was dreadfully underfed. He was so beautiful that I could hardly leave him to humans, so I surfaced (that is, emerged into their space out of my own somewhat more expansive space) to pick him up. At first, I watched; sweat dripped heavy from his hips, which were livid with purple bruises.

I put a bit of myself into the current rapist's mind. Just enough to keep him placid and content, and to make him more tender. Para was bent over in front of him, and he was kneeled with his cock in Para's anus. He brought his hand to Para's stomach and pet him gently, then drew him up flat against his body. He stood, still lodged inside Para.

By this point, the second man - the one who had been holding Para from the front and keeping him from collapsing - was staring at me in wide-eyed horror. The rapist held Para flat against his chest with one arm, the other hand hooked around his thigh to keep him in place. The rapist kissed lightly at his neck and walked backwards, clipping through me to stand against a wall, once again thrusting tenderly into the battered young man. The second rapist - I named him Dicky - was still staring with stretched-faced horror.

I decided he would lead the ceremonies. Tears began to stream down his face as soon as he realized.

One of the other men came and laid down in front of him.

Para woke up very slowly, most likely desperate for real life to be gone and the ugly little life he'd been in before to be back. I could keep him much happier and healthier than his old life had, of course, but I am an abomination, and abominations have needs. He had seven or eight liters worth of tentacle slowly pulsating in his colon.

He was clean and safe; the human blood had been washed out of and off of him.

With one arm I touched his penis, which was partly numb, and so he didn't notice. I placed one pair of lips very close to it at an angle he could not see, smelling the faint, clean acid of his skin. I gave it a slow lick. His pubic muscles twitched, but his lashes scarcely fluttered.

His stubbornness to lucidity was charming. With one mouth, I continued to lap and fondle him. With another face, I perched high enough to look down at him, basking in his violation. I teased with a tentacle at the tips of his fingers and palm of his hand. His little breaths puffed out faster. His brows knitted a touch, but still he do not move.

The carnage had been absolutely beautiful.

The air filled with Para's beautiful screams. I, huge, surrounded all of them. My arms wound around his, holding him up in a wide cruciform pose so that the rapist I was using as a hatrack could get a good grip on both knees, holding them up and splayed open, dangling scrotum and stretched anus on full display to the rest of the party.

The half-eaten man stood beside the two of them, and with his good arm lifted a finger to Para's naval. He prodded gently, teasing Para's delicate body, standing carefully out of the way so Para could watch the feast - and so the others could watch Para, who was, after all, his own delicious little feast.

With his good hand, the half-eaten man gently pinched the glans of Para's penis. He massaged it tenderly, then leaned in with what was left of his mouth to lick Para's nipple. The lingual frenulum of the eaten man's tongue had been destroyed, along with many of the vertical muscles, so he was able to extend a truly impressive scroll to lay against Para's chest. Para just screamed louder as blood and saliva and stomach acid oozed down his body, slowly winding a current toward the pistoning cock that was thrusting in his ass.

When Para finally could deny the reality of his body no longer, his quick shallow breaths stopped for a moment - and then his eyes shot open wide, and his chest heaved. He took in his surroundings, from the immense void and carpet of tentacles that surrounded him right down to phantom tongue on his prick. Then he turned his face to me. I gave him a little wave.

He stared up at me with those huge wet brown eyes. He didn't know what he was seeing. I grinned down at him, showed off the needle-like teeth that glimmered in this dimension. His whole body began to tremble, and he desperately scootched back, only for his hands to fly to his own crotch when he was met with resistance. He was still speared on me, and that kept him in place. I folded lush, humanoid lips over my teeth. It was a more familiar face, one that I could soothe him.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. He shook his head. I brushed his cheeks with two hands, then held him around the ribcage under the armpits. Of course he wasn't hungry; it had been silly of me to forget. I lifted him up and withdrew my arm from inside him. He coughed, then cringed. He gasped and whimpered as the comparatively massive, bumpy thing that had filled him, some seven or eight liters of muscle. It was coated in blood - not his own, of course, but mine, because I liked how it felt in him. Besides, human bodies need to be lubricated when you put things inside of them.

Dicky was still conscious and sobbing wretchedly to the very end. Para was limp and catatonic. Dicky had vomitted twice, so I had one of the others bring him a knife so that he could cut his stomach open. More room that way.

After all, there was only one of him, and four of the others.

The half-eaten man still licked Para's erogenous zones while the hatrack fucked him. The other three men had laid down, one at a time, for Dicky to eat. Only one of them was even dead, since he'd done such an inefficient job.

It was getting a little tiresome.

I tore the top half of the hatrack off the bottom, catching Para so that he didn't fall down. Now it was just Para lodged on an erect penis on a topless pelvis. It was so adorable that I considered keeping the pelvis, but decided that would be unsanitary, and I was about to have a new pet.

Instead, I took Para and spirited him away.

Para was not going to be hungry until his insides were empty, and I was not going to empty his insides until I'd fondled his penis and prostate to my own hearts content.

He twisted his face as far from me as he could, biting his lip in a useless effort to keep back sobs. I railed him slowly, but mercilessly, filling him up and emptying him out completely with every thrust.

"Come on, little one," I whispered. "You will orgasm, and then I will feed you." It was a fact, not an order, but in order to scare him I added: "Because if you do not orgasm and do not eat, I will peel the skin off of your legs and use it to gag you."

A massive sob shook his body and I purred at him. Then, with a mess of tentacles around him, I made him orgasm. It was simple enough, teasing his penis, nipples, prostate, ears, lips - humans are a machine designed to orgasm built in bodies that can't operate the machine properly. He took it silently, face momentarily blank of emotion, mouth wide. I caught the ejaculate and rubbed it over his mouth and tongue, then extended my own many tongues and licked him clean from toe to tip.

When I withdrew from his body, he was floppy and miserable. I rolled him onto his stomach, and raised a portion of my body in front of him.

"Crawl forward," I ordered, "and drink."

What he saw was a complex organ. He saw a ring of teeth, still a tad grisly at the gums and in the cracks from the six rapists I had eaten. Sagging around them were the sacks that might pass for breasts or an udder and which dripped viscous white milk. All around them were my tentacles.

This is not my natural form. I just did it to upset him.

He wasn't physically able to cry anymore, so he vomited instead. Then, with a gentle prodding from me (in the form of my claws at his knees and the tender inside of his thighs), he did indeed crawl haltingly forward. I lifted a breast, bigger than he was, sagging, wrinkled, and he only recoiled a moment before he followed the guidance of my tentacle at the back of his head and took a huge pustule into his mouth.

Squeezing his eyes hard, he drank.

His pert little mouth closed around the pustule, a gentle indent in the delicate skin of the teet. His first drinks were nothing but surprisingly desperate swallows, desperate because the flow gushed into his mouth, tasting of almond milk and wine and coming almost too fast to swallow. It came thicker than cream, coating his teeth and his cheeks. Then, when the flow began to slow, he tried to pull back, but I nudged him insistently, and he obediently buried his nose into the yielding teet to truly suckle.

Once he was settled into the feeding, I stroked the cheeks of his ass and the sumptuous arch of his calves. His toes were ashen, just like his fingers had been. His feet were so clean and and pale after I had finished with him.

When his stomach was full, I pulled away. I kissed his hair and pulled his face, snaking a tentacle under his chest and between his legs and lifting him to a better angle. He stared at my eyes. I'm sure he saw the affection there.

With the adrenaline wearing off, he was starting to shiver in earnest, but the milk would give him much-needed energy to warm himself again.

Once he was fed and fucked, Para fell asleep quickly. A brief hour or two of consciousness had been enough for him. I attempted to prod him awake, and when he didn't respond, I inserted myself into his anus again, once again filling his colon, this time plugging the cecum to keep his belly full of milk. I slipped another hand into his mouth and folded it gently in the cavern of his jaw, teeth loose around me. His body was still loose and naked before me, long penis resting against one leg.

Adorable little thing.

He would need enrichment besides the sex and fear, of course. I also hadn't ruled out a catch-and-release after a few consecutive years. We'll see.

#monster fucker #nsft #tentacles #Extra-dimensional horror

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francepittoresque · 2 years

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🔵 PATRIMOINE | Château de Fougères-sur-Bièvre : trait d'union entre médiéval et Renaissance ➽ https://bit.ly/3zRxSqS Situé au Controis-en-Sologne (Loir-et-Cher), Fougères est un monument étonnant. Propriété de l'État français, il affiche la façade et une aile d’un château fort du XIe, avant de laisser apparaître un corps du XVIe

#château #FougèresSurBièvre #ControisEnSologne #LoirEtCher #style #MoyenÂge #Renaissance #patrimoine #histoire

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lovetextbr · 6 months

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Sentimo-nos renascidas.

As faces do que fazemos estão espalhadas por aí em cada canto e é importante se abster de tantas impressões, daqui, dali… Às dividas, a culpa, o vitimismo, os aquetipos de opressor ou oprimido e as especulaçãos dessas polararidades em reação. Ao cair em si, aos encantos da motivação que liberta-te dos vinculos das definições e do julgamento… Vamos de cara ao nossos autênticos encantos e elevados podemos ponderar, pelo caminho do meio os movimentos necessário a serem feitos, abertos a leitura das energias, entendendo onde a sua alma reprime e onde ela se ativa, fazendo o uso da escolha pelo despertar e pela expanção. A duvida é uma grande inimiga da nossa crianção, ela tira nosso poder e nos coloca a marcer do merecer… Saiba que sabe e vá motivada a empolgação. Dê a si e ao público o que vem de dentro, recebendo e ponderando os reflexos na cura da separação e da comparação. O medo do abandono que se engaja na carência se vem dessa persistencia de resistir a sobreviver a aprovação. Somos amados incondicionalmente dentro de qualquer aspecto dual de todas essas interpreteções. O melhor da vida vem sem as pretensãos… até porque é nas expectativas que criamos as nossas próprias prisões… Sua energia se da em conhecimentos e temo-nos a eternidade e a imensidão à dispor da nossa criação, somos fontes infinitas de energia divina e estamos aqui com a proposta de construir uma nova história para a humanidade, edificando as frequências, cursando essa grande experiência que essa oportunidade nos presentia. Boas referencias sempre são bem vindas quando estão vinculadas e elevadas as boas informações, precisamos nos responsabilizar pela nossa criativa criação afim de abandonar o abto de terceirizar o que viemos apresentar… Cada um tem seu caminho, suas escolhas, suas bençãos e desafios e elas nos moldam ao que viemos a nos tornar, muitas das vezes são definidas como imperfeições os dons e talentos que tenhamos a expressar… Observe-se em aprimoramento mais não deixe de arriscar, o erro ou o acerto são crenças das quais devemos nos vigiar para não nos enganar e é no nosso estado de espirito que se controi… Então vamos cuidar essa busca por algo que possa nos preencher na externalidade, que nos prendE a algo terno de pretenções e desgastes esta a acabar junta as iluções e depêndencias tidas para nos sentirmos compreendidas baseadas no ego vulgar. NÃO DEIXEMOS O DINHEIRO TIRAR O NOSSO REAL CAPTAL! Os valores foram invertidos e precisamos nos libertar pelo merecer, pelo se valorizar. Abundância gera abundância, desvia a atenção do externo e ama … De passagem… Acredite no seu bem estar brilhante , e siga bem, tranquila e radiante, na certeza de que nada irá lhe faltar! Amar é tão bom… Então vamos nos unir, e não nos demorar… Pra manter o ter… O soul… Em virtudes divinas aberta a seR surpreendida com o melhor da vida!

Canalização; Vai enriquecendo a criação e dê entrada em sua posse de frequência original! Conduza lentamente as motivações e se emancipe das ideias, o amor é sua real intenção, o resto é invasão, resistência e ilusão… É inata a necessidade da emancipação na partida ida aos confins do desapego… Vá a margem do rio mais próximo reservada a uma vista, solicitá- la o pôr do sol é um encanto e as horas se tornam vagarosas, silenciosas e pacíficas, coloque a mão no coração e se ajuda no despertar emocional de um amor que lhe dá segurança e garantia… Abra-se às verdades que lhe invadem crepúsculosamente nas tardes sadias e em uma azul, metálica e benevolente esfera as estrelas te guiam… Frotas aterrissam prestando-lhe apoio e amizade nobres, desprendida, descomprometida e de pura empatia. Rasgue o véu que lhe destina crenças e caia-se de amor abundante a cada instante… Agora, não mais distante! Em uma imperfeita e constante frequência de diamante…

MANTRA; Abundância divina Me dê a alegria de seguir a estima expectativa da minha própria narrativa Mereço seguir meu coração afins de edificar minha criação ao que me motiva Abundância divina Me proteja das más influências ás perspectivas Mereço me ser, sou múltipla e criativa.

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johnnygstaffordshire · 7 months

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...where y'aII gotta Iet the TV program staff or the...IocaI sociaIizing take pIace or controI...y'aII Iike me...shit...

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immortal-alchemist · 1 year

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traps inside traps upon traps upon traps. humans stuck inside webs🕸 of dense frequency.

the earth once felt like eden.

now our systems are running false coding, we’re trapped inside frequency nets^, and we’re IDENTIFYING with those ways of being (because of Stockholm syndrome like reasons/trauma based mlnd controI).

We have to identify these dense programs that we’re running, clear them out of the system and overcome their grasp on us, (by noticing everything, fully accepting the truth that dense patterns are running in your software, noticing them and accepting them (no matter how difficult) and vowing to change), Because at the end of the day we are stronger than them/their grasp but they gaslit us into believing that we aren’t. that we’re small insignificant ‘virus on earth’ no inherent value/ persons. i am a human being. i am being. this comes with an inherent authority from the source of being . I can command my space/vessel. placebo effect. I can command authority and respect in my life thru love and trust in my knowing. people will gravitate towards me bc i am magnetic and loving and i operate at the frequency of god/source’s truth . i trust in my self and my cells. i trust in source/ my source. i trust in earth/gaia and her ancient wisdom. i trust in her trees. i trust in her waters. i trust in her soil. i give her all of me.

#spiritualawakening #ascension

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dr-bara · 1 year

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As Batman, Kevin Conroy's Humanity Was His Greatest Weapon

https://www.ign.com/articles/batman-kevin-controy-retrospective-humanity-compassion-arkham?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

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longtaste · 2 years

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mmlascl · 2 years

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emma-what-son · 2 years

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I think she has no controi over many of these images tbh. i know paps claim celebs call them all the time but they could be covering their own shady activity by saying that, like "no guys we arent stalkers! celebs want us there we promise!" type thing. I'm sure some d-lister reality tv stars call them all the time but i just dont see Emma wanting them this much when she is trying to sell prada and can do without being linked to the disliked Philip Green.

I don't think Emma would stay where she was if she saw pics of her in the news. Not to mention that all pics were taken by Backgrid and the clothes she wears.

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siciliatv · 2 years

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Ridotta in appello condanna ad ex presidente di Sicindustria

Ridotta in appello condanna ad ex presidente di Sicindustria Ridotta la condanna a 8 anni di reclusione, controi 14 in primo grado, ad Antonello Montante, l'ex... #SiciliaTV #SiciliaTvNotiziario Read the full article

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johnnygstaffordshire · 8 months

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...it was a bIanket...I'm where I'm @ nd u niggaz expect me...2 not onIy give a shit about...whatever...but...know...about what just happened or whatever...maybe if peopIe who...didn't know...didn't get 2 know about...shit they didn't nd don't reaIIy give a shit about...whatsoever...I wouId know but the effort was 2 controI the ideoIogy...given the circumstance...u niggaz is cooI with...whoever...knowing about...thingz that may otherwise be destroyed or misused it aIwayz...workz just pIace it correctIy...it'z quite an...unacquainted joint effort...if I knew what 1 was...nd it'z kinda working right now...how much was fucking missed...I go 2 Brown University in 2012 nd get a 930 nd a P38 what'z the point of a high schooI graduation party?? I experience...thingz that aren't even thingz...okay?? Iook @ that shit it'z not even a thing...that shit is but that...that shit wasn't a thing...u cannot make that a thing...

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notasdecidade · 2 years

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Menos reixas, máis cidade

O enreixado urbano evidencia un problema por resolver: unha rúa sen saída, un soportal estraño, un peche de parcela innecesario, etc. Canto máis longo é o peche e con menos aperturas, maior é a desconexión urbana. Un enreixado menos é máis vida urbana, é dicir, máis posibilidades e menos impedimentos. Empregar hoxe esta solución medieval é hostil, debería ser o último recurso.

Hai valados quilométricos: os portuarios e os militares cuxos espazos irán incorporándose empezando por eliminar estes límites; os eclesiais onde a Igrexa debe facer unha reflexión sobre como atraer a máis cidadáns e non só fieis; e as infraestruturas-fronteira ferroviarias que deberan ser soterradas.

A forma dun bo edificio de certo tamaño nunca cadra co perímetro estrito da parcela, ese sobrante ou desaxuste entre edificio e cidade é o mellor pegamento urbano e cercalo significa illalo. Non pechalo é ser xeneroso coa rúa, con nós mesmos. É na construción do límite da parcela (muros, peches e posibles desniveis) onde se manifesta a relación fundamental do edificio ca rúa.

O público debe reducir ao máximo a presenza destes cercados. Entristece ver a innecesaria identidade de marca no valo que se repite nas novas estacións intermodais. Un peche privado pode ser inevitable pero un público é un despropósito, pois é no seu límite onde a amabilidade urbana debe ser extrema. O grao de canto de público é un edificio mídese tamén polo número de limiares, controis ou portas que podemos atravesar libremente. Non ter que atravesar ningún é un ideal aplicable á maior parte das plantas baixas. O bo edificio nunca precisa dun enreixado.

Á maior representación de poder dunha institución, maior demostración de forza. Concellos, complexos administrativos ou centros cívicos que deben simbolizar a maior e máis atractiva apertura semellan recintos militares. Aínda máis, o Parlamento ou o Goberno Civil lembran a embaixadas en conflito. Estes, ademáis da disposición estratéxica dos peches, deixan na súa contorna beirarrúas cativas rodeadas de tráfico que evitan calquera concentración. Nin asaltar Capitolios nin rodear Congresos. Medo a nós mesmos.

Aínda por riba, a videovixiancia que nos invade só reforza o control e non sirve para eliminar estes límites físicos. Os valos e cámaras que ateigan colexios ou hospitais son propios de contornas carcelarias ou de fronteiras absurdas.

Aos equipamentos privados como os clubes enriba do mar, rías ou ríos débeselles esixir un paso público xeneroso no beira, maior accesibilidade e transparencia. Pola súa banda o plan urbano esixe reducir a altura e a opacidade dos miles de quilómetros de peche non obrigatorios de casas unifamiliares e urbanizacións. Como curiosidade, noutros países ata os valos de obra teñen por lei unhas xanelas para que calquera poida ver que se está a facer.

Prohibir o paso con estes elementos de peche pode ser cómodo para a xestión, tanto pública como privada, baixo pretexto de non ter que vixiar ou limpar estes espazos. Pero, que custo mínimo pode ter o mantemento e que perigos poden entrañar en comparación coa marabilla do seu goce?

É necesario abrir máis nosas rúas comezando por eliminar os enreixados innecesarios para «deixar que o trigo medre nas fronteiras».

Imaxe // fonte:

1. Enreixado e beirarrúa impedindo calquer achegamento // Google maps

2. Peche das novas intermodais como distintivo de marca // Google maps

3. illamento disuasor nunha fundación con fines sociais // Google maps

4. Espazo estragado polo feche privado do soportal // Google maps

27 Sermos, nº 488, páx. 37 (12/02/2022)

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