i said it on twitter too, but i really love the possibility that some specific kinks will still be fine as long as they follow the guidelines to the letter. you fools. you don’t need to be naked for vore.
Guys, from now on DC will be changing future prints of Batman: Damned #1 to censor out Batman’s d*ck, but the joke’s on them now because Batman’s d*ck is going to become a collector’s item.
Printed copies of bat-dk are going to be selling for $35,000 a pop on ebay soon, it’s going to be absolute mayhem. Invest in Bat-d*ck if you can and invest in your future. Buy up every issue in your local comic store. Let Batman’s d*ck pay for your children’s college tuition. It’s what Batman would want.
so my roomates girlfriend just caught me in the kitchen and its so hard to play it cool when you never see this person you only hear her yowling like a cat in heat while her asshole gets played with so me, trying to act as casual as i possibly could, forgot i was holding an onion and not a delightful apple and bit into it fully expecting a honeycrisp but instead got the equiv of biting solid piss
lol wtaf. i can’t read a single word of this paragraph
Ok but imagine being the gf here
You’ve been chillin with ur S/O and u decide to get up and get a snack. U never talk to ur S/O’s roommate, but u wanna play it cool like u didn’t just have sex 20 minutes ago in this apartment while said roommate was probably home. Awk af, but u got this.
U look up and nod at them, about to offer a noncommittal “hey” or “how’s it going,” when the fucking roommate just
we all know it but no one’s brave enough to say it
beatles fans are worse than kpop fans
I have NEVER had to read abt paul mccartney being a baby cow and mooing softly w tears in his eyes as somebody strokes his baby cow cock bc he doesn’t think he deserves it and that’s that on THAT
Okay,…
what
THE FUCK
not that anyone wanted to see it but here it is!!!!!
Are you sure you know what you’re asking of me? Are you sure? Well, okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. This post is long and contains description of genital injury.
So as you’ll know, I worked three and a half long, hilarious years at an NHS sexual health and contraception clinic. I loved that job, and packed it in because the Tory cuts to the service meant running it became hideously untenably stressful, but that’s a story for another time.
One of my duties at the clinic was to take phone calls. Patients liked me on the phone because I have a nice voice and I’m basically completely unflappable, and they felt happy to tell me things. A vital skill in the wang biz.
One day, a man called. This was not unusual. “Hello,” he said. “I need to see one of your nurses about my, er, my chap.”
“Righty-oh sir,” I said, “are you experiencing any symptoms that you’re concerned about? It’s just a yes or no kind of question.”
“Well,” he said, and I instantly felt a dark and terrible energy pulsate down the phone. “Well… sort of. But, uh, it’s not symptoms of anything, it’s just…”
I would come to regret what I said next. “Is everything all right, sir?”
“Well.” There was a pause. I heard fidgeting. “I got a yeast infection.”
Phew, easy peasy. Yeasties are easy to fix. I sounded reassuring and buoyant. “Well that’s nothing to worry about, sir – if you don’t want to get anything over the counter from the chemist, we can-”
“No, no, that’s not the problem. Listen -” he sounded serious. “Listen, I’ll just tell you what’s the matter, and you’ll see what I mean.”
This is where, whenever I tell this story, I like to ask the listener to play a little game with me. The game is “Where Would You Tap Out?” I’d have already tapped out by going to the chemist and getting some Canestan.
“I didn’t want any chemicals on my chap, so I decided to go for a home remedy. Internet said garlic was good for yeast infections, and I’ve got a lot of garlic, so I figured that’d be all right.”
I made sympathetic noises. Home remedies for yeast infections are normal, and garlic is actually quite effective. “Oh good,” I said.
“I wasn’t sure how much to use, but I figured, I have a lot of garlic usually, so I minced a whole bulb.”
The dark energy wafting down the phone intensified.
“I packed it all over my, you know, knob, made a poultice. Packed it all over the head, like a hat. But, uh, I wasn’t sure how to keep it on..”
I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to scare him off by sounding judgemental.
“..so I just duct taped it all on. Wrapped duct tape all round it.”
Still with us? Tapped out yet?
“So er, that worked, kept it on nice and tight, and I left it on over night.”
Over night. All night with your cock mummified in garlic paste like some sort of fiendish chicken kiev.
“But, uh, when I took it off the next morning, well… garlic is…”
“Caustic,” I said, before I could stop myself. “Garlic is caustic.”
“Yeah! Yeah, it is!” he said, sounding cheerful that I, too, understood the Way of Garlic. “So I unwrapped my dick and, well, it looked kind of like… melted.”
I sat, silent, on the phone. Already I’d missed 6 other calls, watching them sail by on the other line while this saga unfolded.
“So I figured,” he continued, the terrible juggernaut barrelling unstoppably through this phallic disaster, “I should probably exfoliate it.”
“Exfoliate,” I echoed weakly.
“Yeah,” said this abject human disaster, misinterpreting my echolalic expression of horror as hearty encouragement. “So I had a look around the kitchen -” he was in the kitchen for all this “- for anything I could use and got my brillo pad-”
For anyone not in the UK, that’s what we call one of these:
I must have betrayed myself and given a gasp of horror at that point, because he quickly reassured me – “No, no, no, it’s okay – it was a new one!” before going on to describe scrubbing the affected area to remove the alkaline chemical burn that he’d inflicted on his poor, blameless cock.
“So you want to come in because of… this?” I said, assuming he would want a new dick by this point.
“Oh no, no -” he said, jovial again. “No, it’s all fine – it just, my knob’s gone all… well, it kind of looks camo print now. I was wondering if you could do anything about it looking camo print.”
No, sir. No, neither we nor anyone else can do anything about your camo print garlic cock mistake.
One day, you’re walking along when you fall into a hole. You realize in horror that this is the Writing Prompts database. To escape, you have to live through every single prompt on this page.
this aint a prompt its a full-fledged horror story
I’d rather die tbh
Good news for you amigo you’ll die many times before you live out every prompt
I feel like this could be fun tho
Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride if we include all the submissions that are still in my inbox. Want to have sex with The Doctor in a room full of talking bananas that are trying to lunge at your ass?
Ok normally i like the prompts on this page but what the fuck is this
I have been protecting you amigos since the beginning of this blog
Do you have any idea what’s it like for me? I seriously fear my inbox
always remember to force-quit Discord when your computer’s hooked up to a projector screen or someone WILL send you ‘mccree’s sweaty, filthy cock’ in the middle of your presentation on racial segregation