collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
In the year 2023, due to declining populations in the country, President Joe Biden used his executive power to create what is now known as “The Roll Tide Proclamation” which allowed for men to intimate sex with a woman at anytime, with no repercussions as long as it was unprotected. All female birth control was also banned.
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I’m Robin Goodfellow. I write stories for people based on their fantasies. Sometimes those fantasies are strange or funny, sometimes they are dark and disturbing. This one is in the latter category. If you’re not interested in reading a graphic description of the rape of a pregnant woman, then you should go read something else.
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The photograph is fading now, but the image is burned forever in my mind’s eye. I run my thumb over your face. You are frozen by the flash, caught in a moment of despair. Your skin is paper white under the harsh light. You’re looking up to the camera with desperation in your puffy red eyes. Your mascara has run, overlaying the contours of your face with a map of your tears. You have wept so much that drool runs from one corner of your mouth which is painted lopsidedly up one cheek by the smear of your lipstick. Half of your hair is neatly atop your head, and the other half is matted with tears and paint, stuck to the side of your face. Your tits are on display, your T-shirt is rolled up to expose your gorgeous soft flesh. Your nipples are a burning bright red and stand out obscenely from the soft mounds and puckered areolae. Your chest and the giant swell of your belly are glazed with my cum and your milk, shining wetly. Your cunt is open to me, drooling with my semen and a trace of your blood. The carpet all around you is wet. You are sat on the floor with your legs apart and your knees drawn up, your arms are raised high above your head so that your tits are pushed out for me. Your wrists are fastened by cable ties to the rail of the cot. You’re begging me to let you go. You are drooling, leaking, utterly ruined.
Part 1 can be found in my post history. This one is a bit different; see the descriptive tags. “Cunnus” is Latin for “slut”.
Demon Seed 2 [fMM] [bst] [nc] [preg] [fantasy] [huml] [buk]
The Demon took me to his realm, where many humans were servicing his minions. Everyone there, including me, was naked. Trails of blood and semen from my rape and impregnation that had happened just moments ago had dried on my legs and ass.
His minions were beasts that had the legs and face of a bull, the torso of a man, and the cock of a horse. Reading my mind, he said *Those are minotaurs*. He then flooded my mind with images of me being ravaged by them. *After you give birth to my child, you will service them*.
The Demon led me to a large colosseum that was filled with these minotaurs, men, and women. In the middle was a small, black marble pool in the ground. Next to it was a black marble table. To everyone in the colosseum, he said *This servant, whose name was Lindsay in the earthly realm, has been impregnated by my seed and will bear us a child. You will call her Cunnus.* The crowd was silent.
Demon Seed [fM] [bst] [nc] [preg]
This is supernatural fiction; some parts are unrealistic. It involves bestiality and non-con sex.
Also, I don’t know a thing about witchcraft or satanism, so don’t expect accuracy there, either.
If you like the story and want to chat about it, or feel it could be improved and would like to see more of something in a future story, feel free to send me a pm.
Hope you enjoy.
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I had met Rob in the college dorms. I thought he was nice, funny, good-looking, and harmless. I was wrong.
For my 21st birthday, Rob took me out to a bar. I trusted him to take me home after I got drunk; at that point I had known him for 2 years. We had been dating for six months, but hadn’t had sex. I was saving my virginity for marriage.
Thank you for the response and feedback to my past posts. I love hearing your comments and PMs.
Before I start: Trigger warning: This will include two married people having an affair with some serious consequences. If that doesn’t sound like your thing, you should probably move on. I know I am a bad man for doing this so I just saved you the comment.
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For background, I am a 38 year old high school teacher. I’ve been teaching for about 15 years. In that time I’ve had sex with a number of my former students. I have been married during most of that time. This takes place 2 years ago.
It was a summer evening. I was working out at the gym. I was on the treadmill. On the treadmill next to me is a cute brunette with short hair in her mid or early 20s. She is wearing a tight sports tank and short running shorts. We exchange smiles a few times. She looks a bit like the actress that plays the sister on Supergirl.
After my run, I slow down to a walk to cool down. The brunette turns off her treadmill, pulls out her headphones and waves at me. I pull out my headphones.
A little more than a month later Paolo still hadn’t called. Jessica doubted he ever would. She didn’t blame him. She lay there in bed, running through that night again. She flipped on a vibrator, held it between her legs, and let the memory of guilt and pain and pleasure drive her. A few minutes after she came, her stomach turned. She ran to the bathroom. *Uh oh. No way! I’m on birth control.* She cleaned up and called to make an appointment with a gynecologist who she knew performed abortions. Later that day, she bought a home test at CVS. When she took it, it came up positive. Of course. Goddamnit all to hell!
Dr. Brooks, was in his mid fifties. Salt and pepper hair. He had an air of practiced competence that gave him command of the room as soon as he entered it. He was handsome. Jessica sat in the gown the nurse had given her, her head spinning with nerves. He flipped the top sheet on his clipboard. “Jessica Seale, right? You had a home pregnancy test come up, positive?”
“Yes. But I’m on birth control!”
“Okay, that can happen. Were you on antibiotics at the time perhaps?”
It all started when I walked by myself home from the cinema after a late showing of the Avengers. There was no one around me and no houses in the area when suddenly a bright light started shining above me. I felt a strange pull on my body and my feet were lufted off the ground. My heart was racing as I was brought closer and closer to the source of the light. It became so blinding that I only saw white for a while. I felt my body went numb and my consciosness slipped away whilst still seeing the white light.
As I came to I started looking around confused. I was in a white room with no no furniture and the walls were rounded. My arms and legs were held by some kind of robotic arms that held me in an upright position. “Hello?” I shouted to see if anybody was nearby. No one answered. But a third arm lowered itself from the ceiling. At it’s end it was something that looked like a tube and it was pulsing like it had a heartbeat. It forced itself down my throat. The throbbing was notiveable as it felt like it was stretching my throat. I couldn’t breath. It thrust deeper and quickly retreated just to thrust deeper again. It was like getting facefucked. I could feel it hit my stomach.It sped up its thrusting and with it its pulsing. It felt like a giant cock. I got wet. So wet, in fact, that you could have probably seen the giant stain on my trousers. It slowed down and when it stopped completely, while being pushed right up against my stomach, it shot some liquid into me.
(x-post from knockmeup, but I felt really good about sharing this with this sub as well!)
Everyone always has a fantasy of cumming inside a girl, any time of the month, and impregnating her. In reality, it often takes planning, several attempts, missed fertilization windows, and a bit of luck. No woman is ever exactly in schedule, and even then, the window of conception is extremely low.
With that said, my wife and I did get lucky the very first time. This is my true story.
I had gotten home and your later than normal, a Thursday, and I was ready for the upcoming weekend. My wife and I never wanted more than two kids, and life was good. My son was seven, my youngest was four, a girl.
They were at school, due home in about 45 minutes from the bus stop. Our development is in suburban area 30 minutes north of Philadelphia. As such, we’re surrounded by heavy woods, and open to just two neighbors down the hill, out of sight generally.
When I pulled into the the driveway, I noticed her car was in the garage. Normally, she was at work as well, I normally beat her home in time to get my sons.
I entered the house and realized how quiet it was. No TV, no radio or anything. I listened for the shower running, but no, just quiet. As I walked in, I called her name and put my jacket down, keys, etc.
I walked up the stairs, hearing muffled sounds from the bedroom. I assumed she was cleaning up, doing laundry etc. I pushed the door open and was absolutely stunned.
I found my wife laying on her back, legs spread, her breasts covered in a black tank top but naked from the waist down, eyes shut and her dildo slipping in an out of her pussy. The smell hit me right away, the scent of her wetness wafting heavily through the air, the sound of her dildo slapping in and out of her wet cunt, her eyes shut so tightly, gasping a little and crying out to fill her.
She didn’t notice me, as my cock swelled hard against my pants. I wasn’t thinking baby, maybe she was, and as we had two I had no idea when she was ovulating. As I stripped my pants off, her eyes opened and saw me- a mixture of embarrassnent and excitement. She growled and popped the dildo out of her wanton pussy. She opened her mouth, eyes locked on mine, and swallowed half, savoring the flavor. I removed my belt from my pants, and continued to strip off my shirt.
Now naked, I stood above her, legs dangling off the side of the bed. Our sheets were soaked and I noticed her nipples protruding through her top. Her breasts were my favorite, and the thought of nursing her leaking nipples made me twitch below. She spread her legs wide, throwing one over my shoulder, as I wrapped my belt around neck. Gently tightening just enough for her to gasp, I plunged inside. Her hands grabbed my neck and squeezed, hard. She growled like an animal in heat, bucking wildly as I begin to pull out. Alternating stress on the belt slipknot, and ripping her tank top down freeing her breasts, I continued to slam into her. Each thrust a bit deeper, feeling her cervix spread against my cock head. My balls were engorged, and wet from her lips slapping against with each drive. Her face turned read, a slightly shade of purple as she smacked my face, hard, knocking my head to the side. She pulled me close to her, just close enough to bite my lip and said, so quietly, “I need your baby to grow in me” and I absolutely lost it.
Three more thrusts and I exploded inside of her. Two days of cum felt more like twelve. Thick, warm and sticky, spurt after spurt shot into her, coating every inch of her pussy, against her cervix, shoving into her womb. She cried out, screaming, her orgasm crashing through her again and again, pulling me deeper and deeper with her legs wrapped around my back.
We collapsed into a sweaty, sticky mess, our tongues entwined, her hands scraping down my back, fingers through my hair.
That evening followed with romantic, slow sex, in fact for a week after it was romantic. That afternoon though, so animalistic, so raw, so lustful.
Our daughter was born 41.5 weeks later.
**Much Needed Therapy** 2/2 (by Greer Masterson)
A noise roused me from my thoughts and I saw that she was now on her back in the middle of the alley, her feet in the air, while someone humped into her. I glanced up and down Fairmount Avenue again and, seeing no one, slowly headed towards them. It still didn’t make sense, but I was seeing her stories with greater clarity now. I hadn’t questioned before why each story seemed to be mostly the same with new additions at the end or new details every time. That first day she hadn’t been able to find him, but the next day saw him washing his clothes at the laundromat next to Bert’s. She wasn’t sure at first, because he looked clean and was wearing clothes that seemed new. She’d stood outside and waved to him and he’d stood there, blinking rapidly like he’d been concussed. She’d finally managed to talk to him and he’d put her money to good use, washing his old clothes and buying some used camping equipment at a pawn shop at the north end of the Drag. He was grateful, he’d told her, for giving him a new lease on life. She told him he could pay her back by taking her behind the laundromat. She’d said he’d asked her if she was his guardian angel or if there was a devilish trick somewhere in all of this. She’d responded by pulling up her skirt and showing him that she wore no panties. He hadn’t come as copiously as he had the day before, but he’d stretched her again and filled her up again and she’d had another intense orgasm.
**Much Needed Therapy** 2/2 (by Greer Masterson)
A noise roused me from my thoughts and I saw that she was now on her back in the middle of the alley, her feet in the air, while someone humped into her. I glanced up and down Fairmount Avenue again and, seeing no one, slowly headed towards them. It still didn’t make sense, but I was seeing her stories with greater clarity now. I hadn’t questioned before why each story seemed to be mostly the same with new additions at the end or new details every time. That first day she hadn’t been able to find him, but the next day saw him washing his clothes at the laundromat next to Bert’s. She wasn’t sure at first, because he looked clean and was wearing clothes that seemed new. She’d stood outside and waved to him and he’d stood there, blinking rapidly like he’d been concussed. She’d finally managed to talk to him and he’d put her money to good use, washing his old clothes and buying some used camping equipment at a pawn shop at the north end of the Drag. He was grateful, he’d told her, for giving him a new lease on life. She told him he could pay her back by taking her behind the laundromat. She’d said he’d asked her if she was his guardian angel or if there was a devilish trick somewhere in all of this. She’d responded by pulling up her skirt and showing him that she wore no panties. He hadn’t come as copiously as he had the day before, but he’d stretched her again and filled her up again and she’d had another intense orgasm.