Pick By VO-Photoshop https://www.deviantart.com/vo-photoshop/art/A-For-Effort-908852590
Posts made by Mrgoblinging7
-
RE: 3 People from the past
Let’s see if I can think of three.
First - There was this one woman, she used to be a dishwasher like me but I think she works at the dollar store back in my hometown now. She was short, like really short, kinda looked like she had Romanie features, don’t remember her very well.
I think I would keep her at around, four to five inches, not sure what I would do with her aside from the normal kinds of molestations.
Second - There was this Romanian woman, Alix I think her name was? She was drop-dead gorgeous, fun to hang out with at work, I did ask her out once, but she did that thing where ya say no, without saying no.
Now she definitely belongs at two or three feet tall, serving as a hole for my cock, and a pillow for me to nape on. But to be entirely honest, she was just a fun person to be around and just having her in my life, if even as just a friend, would be nice.
And Third - There was this girl I saw around my hometown, but never talked to. I don’t know what her deal was, all I know is that she was tall pretty and black.
Her I would keep at four or five inches as well, make her worship my cock with her sexy ass and tongue.
-
RE: My Future Render Ideas + Tell Me Yours!
The third one sounds absolutely delightful~. Did you have any posses in mind? Because an over-the-shoulder shot of a mini-giant holding a helpless screaming woman in a way that pins her legs to her sides while he uses her like an onahole would be just spectacular~!
-
Life Sentence
This story was a request by Weavelg0d, right here on Doddy’s Dollhouse. If anyone else has a request, and I can make something work with it, please let me know.
Mordred hated his name, it carried some negative connotations. But that is what he got for being a warlock. He was an imposingly tall man, jet black hair with a few lines of gray and blood-red eyes. To any unsuspecting mortal, he would appear to be in his mid-forties, but the warlock was far older than that, an ancient menace that plagued humanity for longer than he would ever confess to. Hidden from the mortal world, the magical folk have their grip on everything. Mordred himself owned five companies, and he used his wealth and influence for truly evil ends. But today was a lazy day, and he was determined to have his fun. And as he arrived at his target, a wicked grin formed on his handsome face.
“Here we are.” Mordred said to himself, a habit he formed when he realized that almost nobody else was worthy of being spoken to as an equal. He flew on wings formed from darkness itself, hovering above his intended target. He didn’t know the name of the women’s prison he visited that night, and quite frankly, he didn’t care. He had arranged for the cameras and security systems in death row to be down and the guards to be anywhere else. When everything checked out, he descended into death row, and breathed out a noxious gas. The stinking violet fumes filled every cell. From the few startled screams, Mordred knew that some of them were still awake. That didn’t matter. He walked into the first cell and found what he was looking for right away.
“Well, hello there~.” He said with his deep, powerful voice. His eyes locked on the woman occupying the cell. His spell had done its trick, and he was just in time to watch her twindle and shrink. He chuckled as he walked over to her now minuscule form, picking her now five-inch body off the ground.
“NO!!! Let me go! Let me go this instant!” She screamed as she struggled in his grasp. Finally, he was able to look her over more closely and liked what he saw. She was South American, but he couldn’t tell which kind specifically. And her curvy body felt just right, unintentionally rubbing herself all over the inside of his closed hand as she tried to escape him.
“You will do nicely~.” Mordred said as he placed his new plaything into the small chest he brought and proceeded to go into the next cell. He collected one after the other. Most were woken up by being picked up, others after being placed in the chest. One cell was a bit of a surprise, there was a male guard with the prisoner. His satisfied smile curled into a snarl. And he picked them both up, one in each hand, glaring at the guard angrily. “There was not supposed to be anyone here while I did this! Why are you here!?”
“I… Oh, God… I…” He just studdered and babbled as the red eyes of the warlock peered down at him. Annoying said warlock to no end.
“You girl, speak! Why was he here?” The petite blond in his other hand yelped in shock as she was addressed.
“H-He… He came in to… Rape me. He does it often, particularly to the girl’s being executed the next day.” Mordred rolled his eyes.
“I specifically ordered that there were to be no guards in these cells. And I can’t leave any evidence I was here.” Mordred said rather casually, if a bit annoyed. Then, without hesitation or warning, he tossed the guard into his mouth, amused as the blood seemed to drain from the blond’s horrified face as he chewed her would-be rapist and swallowed what was left of him. He then finished collecting his things and took back off into the night sky, a little frustrated by his unplanned snack. He would have to work his toys even harder when he got home.
…
In the realm that sits beyond the edge of light, at the gates between the worlds of the living and the dead, on the bones gods that existed before the solar system itself formed, Mordred made his home. All things considered, it was a very comfortable place to live. Gothic architecture, ambient lighting from the few lamps in the otherwise dark void, and he got an excellent deal on the carpeting. His mansion was everything that lesser warlocks and witches strived to accomplish, and having it painted a target on his back.
But those were worries for another day, for now, he had new toys to play with. He entered his playroom, lining the walls were the many trophies from ten years of acquisitions. Pictures of his little toys in memorable posses or suffering notable ends. Stuffed and skeletal remains posed artistically, or tiny victims transmuted into gold and precious gemstones in equally pleasing displays. And most notably, various instruments of torture, the flesh loom, acid drippers, a skinning rack, serrated dildos, and many more well-used devices for the art of breaking body, mind, and spirit. At the center was a short-legged table, at crotch height, when he sat down on the throne next to it. The table he dumped his toys out onto had everything they would need when he was not using them, fresh water for drinking and bathing, nutritious insects that they could eat but pose no threat to them, and comfortable enough beds for them to sleep on.
“Hello again, little ones~.” Mordred said as he sat down on his throne, looking over them like a god, and to them, he might as well be. “All of you were meant to die, some tomorrow, some next week, others a year or two from now~. But I saved you, I took you from the jaws of certain death, and ask only for your obedience in return~. You may call me Master, say thank you, Master.”
“Go fuck yourself!” One of the tiny things said, the little ginger glared at him in rage, her teeth gritted. “I ain’t no man’s plaything! So you can get stuffed!” Mordred chuckled at her outburst, he was hoping to make an example out of someone, and he didn’t have to wait very long for a volunteer. He then whistled, and puttering in, a little puppy hopped up onto his lap. The puppy had jet black fur and purple eyes that seemed to be projecting light, like cute tiny flashlights.
“This is, Porthos. And I think he deserves a treat!” The puppy happily hopped onto the ground as Mordred picked up the defiant ginger. “Rollover, Porthos.” He then did as his Master ordered. “Good, boy!” Mordrid said to his pooch, before twisting the rebellious gingers left arm off, tossing it to the puppy, who gladly ate it. He ignored the screams coming from his hand and the table, never taking his eyes off of Porthos. “Now sit.” The happy puppy did as was commanded and got rewarded with another twisted-off bloody limb. He was already getting hard from the feeling of soft flesh tearing and ripping in his now wet hands. He continued the display until there was nothing left to reward his little friend with, letting Porthos lick his bloody hands clean.
“M-Monster! You fucking monster!” Mordred then looked to the table. The moment his demonic red eyes fell upon them, the little toys went silent. Looking his playthings over, most were looking up at him like he was some terrible natural disaster they could not escape, others seemed to just curl up and weep, a few even threw up from the grizzly demonstration of cruelty. All of them recoiled and screamed when Porthos jumped back onto Mordred’s lap, tail wagging, wanting more yummy treats and attention from his owner.
“You did a good job, buddy. But you go to bed now.” The little ball of satanic fur and joy then ran to his den under the table, leaving his Master alone with the new toys. “I do hope that you pretty little things realize your position now~. And the price for disrespecting my kindness~. Now repeat after me, thank you for saving us, Master~.”
“Thank you for saving us, Master.” The frightened little women said half-heartedly. Most were still too terrified to think clearly.
"Much better~. Now, we need to see just how thankful you all really are~. Mordrid then moved his hands down to his pants, undid the front, and placed his genitals on the table. A smirk of pride formed on his face. Even before it was three times their size, his cock would still be a worrying size. He often got complaints about it being too big. Actually, it made finding a fulfilling romantic relationship rather difficult. It turns out that there is such a thing as too big down there. "I want as many many of you as possible to work my dick~. I want you to use your tongues, hands, chests, asses, every inch of your baby to please every inch of my manhood~. And don’t forget the balls, got it~?
“Y-Yes… Yes, Master…” The South American woman who was the first to be claimed muttered as she slowly walked over to the enormous cock, tears rolling down her face as she begged in her first language for God to save her. She moved her hands to begin rubbing his massive dick head while putting her tongue to work, making out with the slit. The others followed in her footsteps, four on each side of his shaft, rubbing and licking. Three mounted the titanic manhood, unable to sit up properly, the laid down and did their pest to rub and grind un and down it. In the shadow of his male pride, three others toiled to lick and rub the underside, five rubbed and licked his massive sack, one woman he couldn’t get a good look at work the part where the shaft met the sack.
“Oh God, why me?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Please don’t make me do this.” Those were some of the many things his new toys whimpered as they pleased him. His masculine member was so sensitive that Mordred could feel the trembling of the little things on him, every individual tear they shed as they sobbed on his twitching cock. It made him chuckle menacingly. That was what pleased him, not their rubbing, not the feeling of their soft flesh rubbing on his, their misery. Suffering and torment, the humiliation of lesser lifeforms, sexual gratification only meant something to him when it was taken from a whimpering victim. The weeping and shivering of misery were what sent Mordred over the edge. To a predatory growl, he cummed hard, knocking the South American woman making out with his tip flat on her ass. She did her best to cover her face and crotch, probably not wanting to get impregnated by the buckets of cum dumped on her. Mordred looked his little toy over; his milky white seed covering her coffee-colored skin was so perfect that it almost got him going all over again. He pulled out his cellphone, and while she broke down and wept, her salty tears mixing with his salty cum, he took a picture.
“Another one for the wall~. Now, the rest of you lick my tip clean~. then I’ll leave you to get comfortable~.” The three closest to the tip did as they were ordered. Only when he was sure they got every last drop off of him did he put his cock away and leave. He had his fun, so there was no reason to linger among them any longer, but he would be back soon enough.
-
Soul Vore And My Opinion
Hello everyone, the one true king here. So I stumbled upon something I remember being rather interesting. The Ring Of Volthoom! To cut a long back story short, in the DC comics multiverse, there is an evil universe where the universal constants are different, and their version of Green Lantern is no exception. Basically, the Power Ring uses the bearer’s fear to make stuff but eventually eats the wearer’s soul. Get superpowers, but get soul vored in the end
Not a particularly pleasant digestion process, as you can see. And this got me thinking on soul vore in general, and how I never really liked it sexually, but it seemed like the most publicly talked about kind of vore in mainstream media. Like, if a vilion is going to vore someone in a movie, odds are it’s going to be soul vore, that’s weird right? My two cents on the matter is that it’s a fun idea, but not something that can be pulled off satisfyingly in RP. What do you wonderful and kinky people?
-
Stealing A Bite
Pick By epyon108 https://www.deviantart.com/epyon108/art/Gulliverse-ep-743-908817243
Now, what have I told you little things a thousand times!? If you get on my plate, then you volunteer to become a side dish! It’s one thing to take stuff from the fridge or cupboards, but from my plate, while I’m eating, is too far!
-
Giant Or God?
Pick By microphiliac14 https://www.deviantart.com/microphiliac14/art/Giant-or-God-903368620
-
Any Objections?
Pick By bobascher https://www.deviantart.com/bobascher/art/Any-Objections-908805516
Not that I would just let you go if you told me you didn’t want to be my pet. Just figured it would be polite to ask.
-
Mushroommate
Pick By Chum03 https://www.deviantart.com/chum03/art/Mushroomate-Illustration-863810726
Sure, she looks jolly now. But that will change when she finds out that she is being grown to get hippies high.
-
Helping Hands
Pick By Bare-Faced-Cheek https://www.deviantart.com/bare-faced-cheek/art/Helping-Hands-908508288
Here at Dunler Mifflin, we take office policy very seriously.