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At some point between the advent of the internet and smartphone, Halloween ceased to be a mere pretext for recreation. Where children had once used the day to gorge themselves on candy provided by their communities whilst doing their utmost to scare one another or some shit like that, they at some point decided to begin streaming themselves doing these things instead. Where adults had once donned ‘adult’ iterations of the costumes they wore as children for the express purpose of drinking and partying, they at some point opted to do so in a manner that accentuated utter obscenity while also keeping their phones on hand to record and/or stream anything that they deemed interesting.
Change is not a bad thing. Life is nothing without its societal shifts, and to expect an occasion as contrived and commercialized as Halloween to remain immune to them would be akin to expecting a pig not to snort.
Look, though. A nigga doesn’t really give a fuck about people recording themselves on Halloween and posting it online. Bro, who fucking cares? Let people do what they want and don’t try to turn it into an opening paragraph for some socially questionable sexual content you’re posting online. Like, damn bro, fuck. Shut up, nigga.
In the majority of cases, mentioning these things is a means to the end of drawing attention to incremental ‘shifts’ in the times. What may have been abnormal a decade ago is perfectly normal today, and so on and so forth a decade from now. A predictable phenomenon to be sure, but one that many often neglect throughout their day-to-day lives.
Really, though, how ‘noteworthy’ the phenomenon is tends to be a factor of the trends that it encapsulates. As change in the modern world is synonymous with an endless ‘uping’ of the proverbial ante, shifts that occur with the passage of time seem more striking relative to their predecessors.
If one were desperate enough to seek out a means of ‘getting into the mood of the seasons’ through some digital print on a digital page, a number of frightful and fear-inspiring questions can be posed after digesting these facts. Namely:
If ostensibly, but perhaps not underaged young women who may or may not suffer from mild forms of a common disorder that are also affected by extreme hormonal development are willing to sexualize themselves on social media platforms today, what sort of extremes might they go to in the near future?
And,
If a new level of obscenity is completely normalized, what sort of trouble might they get themselves into?
Subjectivity notwithstanding, it is important to note that the ‘scariness’ of these subjects is dependent on one’s ability to imagine answers. As it happens, though, alternatives for those unwilling or unable to concretely imagine such sordid subjects exist in spades–
For example, such a person could continue reading past this line of text and proceed to post a comment expressing disgust towards what they consumed despite willingly choosing to consume it.
Truly a spooky circumstance for all those invested in the season of Halloween.
-
A SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD – HALLOWEEN NIGHT
To children in the midst of yet another Halloween, the chill of fall air and the relative darkness that sometimes surrounds them means nothing. On this night, the world–or at the very least the immediate confines of their neighborhood–is their oyster. A giant playground filled with an endless supply of treats and adventure.
On this night, it galvanized them in ways that few things could. Halloween costumes had become more elaborate and authentic in recent years. The proliferation of anime had forced the hands of suppliers, and those willing to dress up in the first place were uniformly unwilling to be ‘outdone’ by their peers. Expectedly, though, these costumes remained thin enough, or in certain cases, scant enough, for the chill of a fall night to render them unwearable.
Today, though, costumed children could not feel cold. With satchels of candy in one hand and phones in the other, an air of invincibility rendered them immune to anything that wasn’t pleasurable.
One such ‘invincible’ child within one of these chill-infused neighborhoods stood more ‘immune’ than her peers by a stunning margin. Thigh-length black hair bundled in a pair of lengthy twin-tails and profile sporting a ghostly pale complexion accented by juvenile roundness and a pair of icy blue eyes, the latest ‘turn’ in her evening had prompted her to brandish her phone out of the holding pouch slung around her neck.
A moment later, a spotlight from it illuminated her frame and features whilst its frontal camera began streaming her likeness to the world.
“I’m baaaaack~. You guys didn’t miss me, right? I had t’turn the camera off ‘cause some meanie wouldn’t give me candy if I ‘recorded him like the feds’. Whatever that means,”
“Anyway, ‘don mai!’ Jr. Taimanin Hanako’s not gonna leave you all alone on Halloween. Let’s keep collectin’ candy and stuff n’protecting the citizens of our neighborhood from evil demons,”
“Here, stay behind me, ‘kay?”
To the few adults and children within earshot of her declaration, Vanessa’s words were white noise amidst white noise. This was to say that neither her utterances nor what came after them were ‘noteworthy’ in the grand scheme of a typical Halloween.
Times had changed. Though the general perception of hardcore Japanese animated pornography remained as it had been a century or so prior, the availability of such content online and its relationship with the ever-popular ‘anime’ content form resulted in younger and younger children becoming ‘familiar’ with it at younger and younger ages. Commensurate shifts in parental oversight made it impossible to stop them from consuming this content as well. Legal, and by proxy, parental bodies condemned it for consumption by the youth, but this condemnation was not as strict as it once had been.
In the present, watching an anti-demon ninja from an antiquated cartoon be violently gang-fucked by otherwordly monstrosities was no more or less bad than allowing a child to watch a violent film before they were mature enough to manage it. Vanessa’s decision to dress up as a character from one of the newer iterations of the series was thusly accepted as a lax example of parental supervision and nothing more. The same was true of her access to the latest drone modifications for her smartphone, and the fact that she could use all of these effectively before the age of 10. Or past it.
Needless to say, the fact that all of these things were acceptable did not make them less noteworthy. More specifically, ‘trends’ in the development of the latest generation of youth and the appearance of outliers amongst them had combined to create a situational eyesore out of what should have been a girl in a questionably designed Halloween costume.
As if to subvert the thinness of her arms and the narrow, unimposing make of her shoulders, Vanessa’s breasts maintained a skull-dwarfing, watermelon-sized scale and a fattened, tear-drop-like shape that strained the pliant materials of her costume to their natural limit. Outwardly appearing as J-cups (this assuming that the compression of her outfit hadn’t mitigated their perky protrusion from her front), their scale and fat-infused propensity for bouncing and swaying in response to her movements provided the innumerable viewers of her livestream with a great deal of ‘content’ to consume. To make matters even worse, her commitment to authenticity squeezed the straps of a bright-red randoseru in against their outer sides. As her mounds protruded out nearly a foot in front of her, this made the presence of the straps particularly salient.
It was not just that she had a shelf of flesh bouncing against her chest, of course. Like any ‘proper’ Taimainin, a skin-tight turtle neck of smoke-grey protective fabric suckled in against her breasts in a way that made them seem even fatter. Though icy blue fabric and patches of fake armor sat atop this layer (these organized to mimic the character that she was portraying, all of these things served only to accentuate the oblong mounds and the inverted nipples at their faces.
When it rained, it poured. Some inches below the glaring eyesore of her bust was a lower body that borrowed equally from juvenile cuteness and innumerable examples of precocious puberty observable throughout the world. A midsection visibly padded with the remnants of babyfat–a circumstance that pushed pudge against the material of her underlayer–bled down into hips that carried enough flared curvature to impose a natural wiggle onto her gait.
Neither were so obscene as to frame her body as an oblong mess. The black skirt that provided ‘decency’ to the armor fishnets suckled to her thighs still fit around her hips and its blue hem extended just far enough downward to ensure her crotch was never actually exposed to the eye. Nevertheless, obscenity remained for those willing to indulge in it. Having learned the magic of ad revenue at the tender age of some number lower than whatever number has been implied to this point, Vanessa set her smartphone to hover behind her. Not just at her back, but at a perfect height and distance for capturing the sight of her rear as she walked.
If not to the extent of her bust, her rear had enjoyed a degree of development that the average schoolgirl could only dream of. Complimenting the fertile span of her hips was a supple peach of pale buttocks flesh that bled into commensurately meaty thighs. Whereas the flesh on her midsection could be ‘explained away’ as leftover fat from an earlier period of her youth, the rounded fullness of her rear–everything from the visible flashes of her cheeks’ undersides to the fact that the edges of her skirt almost failed to cover it–were easily recognizable as a product of development. The settlement of her figure into an obscene baseline that the coming years would exacerbate even further.
The visuals produced as she walked were more than enough to convey how much of an outlier she was. But, for those in the habit of downloading stream VODS for ‘personal use’ and those with particularly strong hearing, further proof of it was pushed out into the open air on a second-by-second basis.
It was a miracle that her voice was audible to her viewers at all.
*Papp-papp-papp-papp*
“Hmm…”
“Pretty quiet out tonight, huh? We haven’t run into any trouble yet, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t dangerous stuff going on!” Mid-stride, Vanessa spoke out to pull her drone away from her rear back up to her face–
An adorable profile accented by the presence of a single-fanged incisor.
“Let’s keep our eyes open, everyone! I’m gonna stop by a few more houses n’talk with some of the nice citizens of this neighborhood to make sure nothing suspicious is going on. After that, we’ll do some more investigating!”
“I’ll make sure they can see the chat as long as they’re not dummies that don’t wanna be recorded. Make sure to cheer lots n’lots so I can get a bunch of candy, ok?”
Commitment to the role that she was portraying (and the management of a live stream) did not stop Vanessa from behaving as a child. As could be expected of an excited youth on Halloween, candy remained one of her foremost priorities. In turn, this led her to use the ‘content’ that she had promised to produce for the night into a vehicle for collecting it.
For the most part, she enjoyed success. Per the norm for suburbia, homeowners greeted her and other children with open arms. Only so many prolonged stares from fathers were directed at her outfit, and to her surprise, complaints about her recording device did not recur.
More than an hour passed just like this for her. Throughout, the houses that she visited blurred together and her girlish dialogue with her viewers continued cyclically. After this period, the first instance of novelty that she encountered was wrought by changes in her immediate environment. An unplanned occurrence brought about by juvenile negligence.
In keeping with standards maintained throughout the Western world, idyllic pockets of suburbia are sometimes separated from ‘harder’ neighborhoods and sketchier locales by mere minutes. Combinations of law enforcement and the gated nature of more affluent communities render the distance negligible. Still, the shift in demographic remains painfully apparent to those capable of seeing it.
Vanessa was not one such person. Perfectly content to move from one house to another whilst completely in character, she paid no attention to the architectural changes in the residences that she passed and the increasingly ‘worrisome’ state of the sidewalks that she traipsed through.
A discerning, self-aware youth she was not. ‘Special’ certainly, but not the sort of special that one might associate with interpersonal success.
She was not completely detached from reality, either. When the change in her surroundings finally became apparent to her, the difference between then and what she was used to earned a reaction from her–
But not the right one.
“...”
“Wow! Just as I thought! It was hidden or somethin’, but there’s definitely some dangerous stuff goin on here!” She chirped. “Some of these houses look super suspicious! That evil Dark-sama might be running a terrible operation in one of ‘em!”
“Let’s go and investigate. Someone might need our help, y’know?”
None within Vanessa’s chat spoke out to advise against her suggestion. Long gone were the days wherein conscientious viewers may’ve voiced their concerns for the benefit of their entertainer. The sordid degenerates watching her had watched worse than this in silence and were perfectly happy to continue doing so as long as her body was kept front and center.
And so, she was allowed to patter up a few steps of a dilapidated porch unfettered. Leaning on the same process she had followed thus far, she raised a fist up to the worn face of the house’s door and rattled her fist against it a few times.
Patterns established at the beginning of the night held even now. Footsteps from behind the door bled into the unlocking of its face, and the appearance of a ‘homeowner’ owning a fair complexion from behind it came shortly after that.
This one, however, appeared from out of a cloud of smoke.
“Ay yo, which one of you ordered food? I’m not paying for this shit again so if it was one of you, get the fuck out here bro!!” These words were thrown back over the man’s shoulder the moment the face of the door opened.
It was only after spewing them that his line of sight and attentions fell in front of him.
“Shit, sorry about that, man. One of these doos probably ordered something and didn’t tell–”
“Hol’ up. You’re not a delivery person at all. You’re uh…fuck. I seen an episode of this, one sec,”
“You’re Jr. Taimanin Hanako, right?”
In the face of confusion and a physical mismatch that should’ve concerned her, Vanessa held her ground.
“T-”
“That’s right! I, Jr. Taimanin Hanako, have come to inspect your residence to ensure that you’re not doin’ anythin bad!” She huffed. “This won’t take long, so step aside so I can enter!”
Exactly her words triggered in the young man was unseeable to the eye. The sweeping gaze he passed across the space in front of the house offered clues as to this–truth be told, it almost explained everything.
The confound was his behavior.
“Haha, ooooooh shit. Guess we’re in trouble. We’re cooking drugs in here you little autist,” He replied. “If you want to come check it out, be my guest…”
“Come hang out with us for a bit.”
Vanessa did not know what she was agreeing to by stepping into the house. In character, she knew only how to respond to the deference displayed to her.
“If…”
“If you’re inviting me inside for an inspection, I-I’ll do just that! Hanako thinks drugs are bad, but since you told the truth, I might be able t’let the really bad stuff slide–”
“What do you guys think? Should I forgive ‘em?”
Time that Vanessa could have been using to assess her surroundings once inside the house was wasted on her phone.
An unfortunate, yet all too predictable circumstance for the youth of today.
-
LEAN IN THE BANDO
The proliferation of ‘anime culture’ and the maturation of the generations that initially popularized it resulted in the creation of a new set of ‘household names’ throughout the Western world. Before this, men and women of the 20th century grew up with a slew of miscellaneous Western cartoon characters ingrained into their earliest memories. In comparison, the children of the mid-to-late 21st century and beyond were raised with a slew of Eastern characters on the brain–the majority of which just so happened to be inexplicably buxom young women with abnormally endearing personalities.
On the back of its ‘content’ and characters alone, the Taimanin series eventually acquired ‘common’ status as well. Perhaps not to the degree of the world’s Mickey Mouses™, but enough so that very few adolescent youth with internet connections grew up without exposure to it and content like it.
An upbringing rooted in hardcore Japanese pornography can be expected to instill a particular set of values on young men. Particularly in situations where there is no expectation that they moderate their behavior. For example, presentation with Jr. Taimanin at the door to their Trap House whilst dressed as a character they could not help but recognize–a character whose proportions were matched and exceeded by her own–was liable to result in less stellar behavior from them.
‘Less than stellar’ meaning a spirited session of violently obscene group intercourse, in this case.
“Bro, come on! Choke her tits tighter. We can def make milk squirt out of them! You just need to fucking concentrate!”
“F-Fuck you, man. I’ll concentrate after I nut!”
As one familiar with her might have imagined, Vanessa was convinced to willingly enter the confines of the Trap House on the back of an instance of unintentional roleplaying. The wife-beater-clad young man who met her at the front door jokingly referenced content from a particular sordid Jr. Taimanin episode, which in turn led her to presume that ‘evil’ was afoot.
What kind of evil only became apparent to her when she was pulled atop the lap of another aggressive and possibly intoxicated young man atop the living room’s couch. A humid haze of perspiration (among other things) hung within the air of the room while music from another room within the house bled into its airspace. Succinctly, there were ‘clues’ that a young woman with functioning preservation instincts might’ve recognized as alluding to danger.
But not Vanessa. When the skirt of her costume was rolled up to her hip-line and the mons-bloated chub at her crotch was exposed to the open air, she refused to panic. She refused again when one orifice-ruining trunk of sweat-greased cockflesh was pulled out into a fear-inspiring extension along the face of her groin, and once more when another monstrously vascular spire was exposed ahead of her face.
Nothing, not even the penetration of her onahole-sized innards and the choking of the fat near the root of her breasts by adult hands could break her. The squirting orgasms wrought as cockflesh was ruthlessly skewered up and down through her depths and the slow ooze of mucus and perspiration from her face were simply for show.
So far as she was concerned, she was a dark hero of justice fighting for the safety of the underworld–
She was Jr. Taimanin Hanako.
“G-...
“Grrr! Dark’s evil h-henchmen have h-hoouuhh…”
“H-Have developed more majin t-technique!! Humans aren’t supposed to be able to use ‘em, s-so I’ll bet all of you have modified bodies! I wanted to save you if I could, but it looks like I’ll have to execute you w-with–oouu m-my tummy ♥—one of my–”
“Holy shit–SHUT THE FUCK UP! Y-YOU’VE BEEN RUNNING YOUR MOUTH SINCE BEFORE I STARTED BEATING OFF!!” Seemingly incensed by Vanessa’s commitment to her role, the man in front of her blasted her at the top of his lungs.
Juvenile under her veneer of maturity, the utterance was enough to purse her lips into an apologetic pout in an instant. In that same instant, the man pressed his crotch outwards and brought the stroke-greased girth of his glans directly opposite her face.
“That’s better, christ man. Keep your stupid thot mouth shut unless you’re saying something cute!” He spat. “Keep that up, and I’m sure you’ll end up earning plenty of treats,”
“Like this!”
All at once, the feverish stroking that the young man applied to his length pulled a massive eruption of wadded semen up through his urethra. With the nose of his length directed straight at Vanessa’s face, the entirety of the substance’s off-white volume was spewed out into a cheek-smearing splatter across the middle of her face.
Her position notwithstanding, taking a thread of semen from this man in particular proved a disgusting experience. Though the rotting of her brain on several years of pornography fed through her phone had prepared her senses to be drenched by something heavy and gooey, the bulbous sludge that exploded out against her profile completely defied her expectations. Despite sticking to her profile like a paste, the wadded lumpiness of the substance and its eye-watering stench was reminiscent of molten sewage comprised entirely of spoiled milk and clotted porridge–a yellowed mire guaranteed to violate her pores with a scent and sensation that would not leave her for days.
One spurt from the man’s urethra was enough to cover her profile in an arced flourish of the substance as well. Whether as a result of the amount of pressure that backed it or the sheer amount of seed that he had saved up, this initial rope left her feeling as though a concentrated explosion of the substance had been caked across the dead center of his face.
A full orgasm pumped out just like this would have been revolting enough for a grown woman, much less an ostensible insert descriptive string of questionable adjectives young woman here. The caking of her profile underneath a layered splotch of curdled semen was guaranteed, and the substance was more than likely to gunk up the girlish beginnings of her hairline for weeks on end.
As if to drive home the unfortunate straits that Vanessa found herself within, she received this treatment and more. Over the course of several seconds of stroking and grunting, the man ahead of her pulled flourish discharges of nut out onto her face until her eyes were effectively glued shut by the substance. More accurately, the layering of the substance atop itself and its streaking around (and atop) her eyelids forced her to keep her eyes closed lest even more unpleasant sensations be imposed onto her.
To her suitors, a Jr. Taimanin unwilling to take the brunt of her assailants’ abuse was no Jr. Taimanin at all. Prompted by a simple gesture from his orgasm-enamored peer, the man dutifully skewering his shaft up and down through the sodden grippiness of her cunt dropped his palms away from their chokehold on her breasts and snapped them up to the opposing sides of her skull.
The tips of fingers from both of his hands found the fringes of her eyelids straight moments later.
“Ah, ah, ah. No dodging–you’ve gotta use one of those anti-demon techniques if you want to escape, ‘Hanako’. Take his load properly or I’ll choke the shit out of you until you’re so stupid you can’t help but to!”
Vanessa did not hear a word of the request that was barked at her. Resources that she could have used to attend to it were instead taken up by the sensation of fingertips peeling her eyelids apart, and after this the sensation of chunked semen exploding out against the whites of her eyes.
Here, the only real silver lining she enjoyed was that the stinging discomfort that attacked her was short-lived. Within a half dozen spurts of her suitor’s backed-up reproductive fluid (each of these painting erratic streak-blotches up the length of her face and the surface of her eyes), the entirety of her profile was completely smothered underneath a layer of semen. Pain-inspired wiggling within her hips and squirming at her neck ultimately bled into the acceptance of a dull, throbbing discomfort that was mitigated by the ‘high’ associated with having her immediate airspace consumed by the stench of semen.
Silver-linings aside, she was also buoyed by her mindset. Normally, being yelled at whilst one phallus blended her insides and another blasted semen across her face would have been cause for pouting from her.
Being in character on Halloween night framed the experience as something exciting to her. Her discomfort and discontentment remained the same, but the stimuli itself made her feel as though she truly was a Jr. Taimanin caught in a trap set by an evil syndicate.
For herself and for her social media platforms, the best thing that she could was steel herself and face the beginning of her corruption struggle head-on–
Even if doing so required her insides to be rearranged by cockflesh
“G-Grr! S-So persistent! They think that by humiliating me and makin’ my face all smelly with gross dickjuice, I’ll end up a corrupted slave of Dark-sama’s syndicate!” She thought to herself. “W-Well, they’ve got another thing coming! Right now, I’m a Jr. Taimanin and Jr. Taimanin don’t give up just cause such s-squirmy, smelly cum ends up splattered on their faces,”
“I’ll show them that I’m the real deal! Everyone on ***-*** will be super impressed with me that way, too!”
The pep talk that she delivered to herself couldn’t have come a moment sooner. Still very much at the whim of men warped by several generations of depravity, the seconds-long ‘respite’ that she earned at the end of her first suitor’s orgasm was supplanted by a violent intensification of the efforts from the man beneath her.
At the same moment that bulky arms were thrown up into a chokehold focused on her neck and skull (i.e., a forearm flattened horizontally across her windpipe and another belted across its wrist to smother her skull), another vile declaration was blasted out into the air of the living room.
Impressively, this one offered content even more sordid than the last.
“S-Shit, gonna nut!! How’re her insides so crazy tight!? Feels like an onahole in slurping on every inch of my cock!!”
“FUUUACCCK!! MILK OUT MY DICKJUICE YOU FAT-ASSED LITTLE BITCH!!”
There were two stages to the abuse heralded by the second man’s outburst: settlement into a stride, and the abandonment of this stride in pursuit of even more stimulation.
The former saw the tips of his toes dug into the floor beneath the couch whilst his lower back was drawn off of the cushioning that supported it. Through his headlock, he effortlessly braced Vanessa’’s tiny frame along his midsection such that the fat of her buttocks (and the sodden pudge of her cunt by proxy) were locked into the path of his thrusts. As such, pushing his frame upward and engaging his musculature like this served only to make the blows he delivered more punishing.
Really, though, ‘punishing’ was almost too mild a word for it.
Up until this change, every upward-angled skewer that was driven through her folds was mitigated by the fact that Vanessa needed to remain upright. Generating enough force to scrub the meat of his erection through the pudgy constriction of her inner walls remained pleasurable, but the fact remained that the second man was limited in the length and brutality that he could apply to these impacts. The squirting orgasms that she produced throughout and the satisfying clop of her tits and buttocks as she bounced could offer only so much satisfaction by themselves; anything less than the ability to masturbate with her gooey insides in the exact manner that he imagined was to him a wasted effort.
His new position was defined by control. Unfettered, he could at last engage his abdominals and lower body into repeatedly punching himself back and forth through the juvenile syrup sauna that enveloped his shaft.
So he did. Per upward stroke, the second man flung his crotch upwards with enough force to raise a modest bulge along Vanessa’’s midsection. A predictable sight given her petiteness, but a testament to the foot-long scale of his endowment and his willingness to subject her to it. Before his glans could sit at this cervix-testing hilt for even a second, the surge of stimulation that rippled through his crotch motivated him to wrench himself outwards just as quickly.
Born from this was a pattern of insertion and extraction too addictive for him to moderate. Blasting the babyfat other cunt and midsection such that her body cavity became a cocksleeve for him resulted in the congested bloat of her insides scrubbing his erection far more frequently. Pumping back and forth through the constriction of her folds pulled grotesque blurts of precum out of his length more frequently as well, which in turn primed even more volume for the actual load of semen he would spew inside of her.
One couldn’t discount the adjacents of his position, either. On top of the sensation of manipulating Vanessa’s body as an oversized doll, the sound of his crotch colliding with her assfat and her sweat-greased tits beating against her chest proved just as narcotic as her cunt’s suckling.
All of these things together put the second man on the verge of orgasm within minutes.
For him, his progression was fleeting. A sprint up to an intoxicating high with a very clear destination.
For Vanessa, the combined compression of her skull and the perpetual reaming of her insides by a phallus not meant for them dragged the experience out into a veritable eternity.
This was not to say that the experience became ‘negative’ for her, of course. Whereas the outflow of mucus from her nose was replaced by thin dribble of blood from her right nostril (its appearance coincided with the appearance of a strained debilitation on her face), her perception of what was happening to her remained in line with what could be expected of any decent Jr. Taimanin:
Bluntly, it remained unthinkable, arguably autistic, and to an extent, insane.
*PLAPP–GLRRP–P-LAPP—SCHLLRSSH–PLAPP*
“G-Ghuuhhuuu. S-Stop! I-If you thrust so much like that while my brain is all squished, ‘m gonna die! I-It feel’sh like my tummy’s gettin’ turned to mush…”
Words segmented by the sound of her own gutted, delirious comments on proceedings taken straight from the dialogue of the very same episodes responsible for warping her mind into its current state.
“G-Gettin’ beaten by Dark-sama’s henchmen’s gonna b-break my brain..”
Equally amused and infuriated by her commitment to whatever it was her imagination had produced, her suitor could not help but draw a bizarre form of satisfaction from her slurred declarations. For as much as he desired more concrete signs of feminine stupidity from her, the display was inspiring–
So much so that playing into her imagined scenario came naturally to him.
“Heh, that’s fuckin’ right! Your brain’s going to get pummelled into mush by my cock! Not like you were using the fuckin’ thing walkin’ around outside dressed like a cocksleeve, but I guess it all adds up,”
“Now shut the FUCK up and put that useless onahole brain to work draining my balls!”
With his outburst came the respite that should have come to Vanessa after her first suitor’s orgasm…
After the expulsion of a similarly backed-up load of sludge directly into the core of her cunt, of course.
*PLORP-PLORPLORPPLORPPLORPPLORPPLORP–*
*BLORRRSH!!!*
Right on cue, the pattern that her second suitor settled into was replaced by a desperate pursuit for more. Overcome by a desire to spew the gurgling payload that his balls had fed into the root of his shaft, he accelerated the delivery of his thrusts until sodden clobbering noises began competing with the low thud of the house’s music for dominance. Soon enough, his squirt-greased strokes pushed him past the point of no return and magnetized his length through to a final hilt against Vanessa’s cervix just in time for a massive flourish of semen to make its way up and out of his urethra.
Like the load that clung to her features even now, this one was defined by excess as well. Owning the same lumpy, glut-riddled texture–albeit slightly runnier for one reason or another–as well as all of the volume of the first thread-flourish that had hit her profile, its contents breached the tented face of her cervix whilst at the same time smearing the suckling button with rancid discharge. One would have thought its consistency would’ve lent itself to clogging the mouth of her cervix so thoroughly that additional seed would be disallowed entry into her womb, but funnily enough, the circumstance actually contributed to her uterus’ plumping instead of stymieing it.
In the split second between the discharge of the man’s first thread of nut and the second, her cervix began drinking. Utterly indifferent to the minutes of abuse it had received, the sensation of heated semen being smeared across its face and slurped into the depths of her uterus motivated the button to begin gulping down sludge as though it had been served through a straw.
The consequences of their chugging expanded far past the engorgement of her womb.
To start, there was the noise produced as muddy cockjuice made contact with the pudge of her feminine innards. One at a time, low *BLORPS…* just barely audible at the face of her cock-tented midsection flowed out into the air. Each one timed to the surge of fresh semen into her womb and the substance’s splattering against the organ’s peak, an untrained ear may well have assumed that a second mouth was actually chugging the substance somewhere inside her cunt (as opposed to the organs themselves).
Accompanying the outflow of these noises were outflows inside Vanessa’s head. Taken aback right from the beginning of her suitor’s orgasm, producing words with her mouth was immediately set beyond her. A lightning bolt of stimulation funneled up her spine had constricted her semen-smeared profile into a grimace while also leaving her incapable of any kind of decency.
It didn’t stop her from thinking about the pleasure that was blooming within her folds, though.
“Uhuuuhhh. G-Gettin’ filled. Everything inside is getting stuffed with the gooey stuff on my face. It’s so hot and squirmy I can feel it making my tummy all fat,”
“I-It’s exactly how Jr Taimanin. described it. I always thought she said that stuff to try to trick Dark-sama’s henchmen, but she must’a felt this way for real. Getting a bunch of fresh dickjuice spewed into your womb really will make your brain all stupid…”
“I hope I don’t end up showing my fans anything weird…”
Simply put, her thoughts were set into conflict with one another. Whereas her core identified with the crippling stimulation that rippled through her innards each time the seed reservoir within her womb was fed slop, what remained of her conscious mind could not help but feel overwhelmed. Her windpipe had been compressed underneath an adult forearm, and as far as she could tell, she was not anywhere close to escaping her position as an onahole.
It was worrisome. Enough so to warrant the throaty stammers that she produced whilst suffocated.
Comparatively, her suitor’s thoughts were without a care in the world. Defined by pleasure and nothing but.
Nothing was left to the imagination as to their content, either. Unlike Vanessa, his windpipe sat completely unrestricted–
For better, or for worse.
“Guuahhh, fuck! That’s good shit, keep clenching just like that and you’ll slurp out every drop!” He grunted. “Who woulda thought that motivating you would be as simple as squeezing your neck a bit! Meatsleeves like you really just just broken from birth, huh?”
“Fuck it though…”
The second man did attempt to express himself beyond these two outbursts. There were plenty of veiled insults for him to spew at the girl pinned to his midsection, and plenty of different ways for him to make the flow of seed through his length more pleasurable. Nevertheless, these attempts broke down into the strained sneering and groaning that someone ‘in the know’ as to the adventures of a Jr. Taimanin might’ve recognized as the groaning of a monster on the brink of sexual satiation.
His actions in the wake of his final few attempts pushed his image even further in this direction. Eventually, the twitching of his testicles and the guttural splattering noises that flowed out from Vanessa’’s midsection came to an end. Momentarily satiated, the second man released his locking of her skull and pushed his hands down to her hips to brace himself through extraction.
Much like the manipulations that had preceded it, his execution was flawless. Neither the volume of seed he had spewed nor the inane dedication displayed by his muse’s folds could stop him from sliding his shaft through to a sodden *PLORP!* out of her depths.
He didn’t discard her after the fact, however. On the contrary, his grasp on her hips became tighter after the fear-inspiring bloat of his shaft escaped her folds.
He was waiting for something. For a form of stimulation that could not be funneled through the nerve endings of his groin.
*.....*
*SPLRRRRSHH….*
“There it is!!”
It was the sound of a mudslide of semen surging out of the puffy face of Vanessa’s folds like slop from a ruptured water balloon. Up until this point, the elastic tightness of her folds and her innards’ predisposition towards encapsulating cockjuice had kept nearly every drop of his load locked inside of her. Dregs blurted out onto her lower lips throughout his retreat were the initial exceptions to this rule, but these were easily forgotten amidst the mess of stray pubes and pudgy mons flesh left at her crotch.
In typical fashion for Halloween, the greed of Vanessa’s insides led to their downfall. Like a child perfectly content to gorge themselves on strange candy without stopping to consider whether or not it might be laced with fentanyl, her cervix and uterus had consumed too much semen too fast. Bloated to the scale of a ripened peach, the sudden removal of her suitor’s cock induced contractions within her depths that bottomed out into a grotesque regurgitation of semen ahead of her crotch. Though its contents were safely deposited onto the floor in the form of jagged, descending runway, the sheer amount of it resulted in a very audible splatter flowing out into the living room.
Its timing could not have been worse for her–
What had been cause for celebration from her first suitor was a call to action for the other.
“Yo, fuuuuuck. That’s a massive load man. Are you telling me it feels that much better to jerk off with this brat’s insides?”
“Alright then, fuck it! I’m next!”
More dangerous words were scarcely uttered in the confines of a Trap House. Without regard for Vanessa’s condition or the innumerable taboos associated with his desires, the man who had drenched her profile in discolored seed surged over to the couch to wrest her semen-bloated husk out of his companion’s grasp as a child might’ve snatched a favored toy out of the grasp of another.
Next came manipulations. Deeming the couch to be the best means for what he desired, he too sat himself down atop its lip.
She was not braced against his back this time, though. Beginning from a position that pressed her costume-bundled tits up against his chest, he tipped her backwards until the back of her skull was lowered into contact with the floor space ahead of the couch. Then, with her lower body left inches removed from his lap, he hoisted her off of his crotch and left her lower back braced against the lip of the cushion he sat atop.
All of these things were done to facilitate his ascending to a squat and mushing his palms into the underside of her thighs. Set, he spread them as the limbs of a doll and exposed her freshly fucked lower lips inches away from the drooling bloat of his erection.
Angling his hips outwards and depressing himself down to a hilt through her guts came naturally. The stimulation that he earned through this stroke alone sufficed to motivate him into the delivery of jackhammer-style thrusts backed by his body mass, and even folded his torso down to a loom over top Vanessa’s couch-slanted frame.
What was coming to her prompted protest from Vanessa the moment her lower lips were split by cockflesh again. Helpless up until this point, even her own rotted self-preservation instinct thought it best for her to speak out against her position even if it ultimately failed to amount to anything.
If nothing else, doing so would excuse whatever ‘mess’ she produced afterwards.
“W-Wait, hang on. I’m being serious, h-hang on!”
“My tummy feel’s kinda weir–OOOUGHHIII♥♥!!”
Stammering this way failed to motivate her suitor to do anything other than what he had planned to do. Galvanized by stimulation, he turned his first hilt into another sordid period of rutting defined by bestial groans and the slurping and squelching fucked out of a semen-glutted vaginal canal.
Once started, the escalation of proceedings refused to stop. Seeing his peer enamored by stimulation, the man responsible for filling her cunt in the first place channeled his envy into action. Springing upright, he took up his own animalistic squat above her grounded skull and fed his erection down into her esophagus from the most sordid angle possible.
Thoroughly enamored with their own stimulation, both men continued like this for over an hour. Loads were repeatedly deposited into Vanessa’s holes, and new positions were imposed onto her to this end.
Left alone, the men would have continued until they collapsed from exhaustion. Drenching Vanessa’s costume in semen became a contest of sorts for them–this in spite of the fact that they both failed to recognize as much. Likewise, the repeated scrambling of her brain rendered her behavior that much cuter, and by proxy, that much more deserving of brutalization for her frame.
As luck would have it, though, reality choked up a stopper for the event well before it reached the point of no return.
Out of nowhere, a fourth actor appeared at the mouth of the living room. Freshly awakened from a lean-induced coma, fatigue and disorientation rendered his burly frame much less imposing compared to his peers.
In his debilitation was a willingness to inspect his surroundings, however. Upon entrance to the living room, the perpetual hover of a smartphone-turned-drone and its angling towards the living room couch was the first thing to catch his attention. The penetrative efforts of his peers came next, and the vile state of the living room shortly behind it.
At the sight of these things, he couldn’t help but speak out.
“...Yo…”
No response–his voice was nowhere close to the loudest noise source in the room.
“Yo!! You niggas know that her phone has been streaming this entire time right? I def would be doing the same shit as you if I had woken up on time, but yeah. You should probably stop, I’m say’n, still…”
In response to this, one of the young men unholstered his length from Vanessa’s face in a display of indifference. Once free, his palm found the base of her sex-muddled face and squeezed her cheeks until her lips were made plump.
“Bro, fuck you. You think we’re just retarded or something? Of course we knew it was there–who cares, man?” He started. “Matter fact–bring that shit in closer,”
The third young man’s compliance was inexplicable. Rolling his shoulders, he scooped the drone device out of midair and proceeded up to the couch. Following gestures from his peer, he lowered it down to a hover directly opposite Vanessa’s face.
“Alright, it’s been a while since you interacted with your followers, right, stupid? Give them a peace sign and say something a Jr. Taimanin would say,”
“You can at least do that shit, can’t you?”
Amenable to roleplaying in the first place, the young man’s demand was music to Vanessa’s sex-choked ears. Unprompted, she pulled her pube-smeared lips into a jagged smile, and weakly raised her hands up to a trembling pair of peace signs to either side of her face.
She had always wanted to do something along these lines, and it showed.
“S-Sorry everyone. I’m just a dummy who failed as a T-Taimanin,”
“H-….
“Happy Halloween. I promise I’ll be more e-entertaining next year, s-so d-don’t unfollow me, ok?”