Clom

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Clom last won the day on November 23 2017

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About Clom

  • Rank
    Clom
  • Birthday November 29

Personal Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Sexual Orientation
    Bisexual
  • Location
    Somewhere

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Tickling
    Cuddling
    Face-sitting
    Farting
    Futanari
    Humiliation
    Messing
    Tomboys

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  1. *Notices Legs* OwO what the fuck is this monstrosity?

    image.png

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. Sammy!

      HE HAS BLUE ARMS THIS CANT BE HAPPENING SONIC BROS IT ISNT FAIR IT WAS HIS TURN AHHHHHHHHHHHH

    3. Dimwitrolo

      How long until Chris-chan pepper sprays cinema staff?

      I hope it's soon.

    4. Ashi

      lmfao

      but the eyes??

  2. Clom

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  4. Clom

    The Guild Apprentice

    I think I can say with confidence that Margo wetting herself is the winner here.
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  6. I'm glad we have a kink section so I can look at it and realize how much of a degenerate I really am. 

    The 3 F's: Face-sitting, Farting, Futanari. 

    1. Show previous comments  3 more
    2. Ronyo

      Promises Clom~

    3. Clom

      I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it~

    4. Lisk

      This list is not nearly enough to show the depths of the true degeneration that I'm happy to represent. There are many things that are wrong with it, but firstly and foremostestly, WHERE ARE THE MAIDS?!!!!!!!111111oneeleven

  7. Clom

    The Guild Apprentice

    So I'm introducing a fun little twist for this part. It was originally going to be used in another interactive but that story is currently in purgatory. Instead of just having Shibo make a decision, the audience will decide how the entire next scene will play out. I know I said this would be done a few days ago, but things always change. I really should stop making schedules because I'm pretty bad at sticking to them. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Eh, I don’t mind carrying you, Margo.” You make the offer to the little gunsmith, giving no thought to what you’re saying. “If you can’t hold it, I mean.” With her small stature, you feel like you’re addressing a child. “Would you like me to carry you?” It takes you by surprise when Margo scowls at you, her eyes squinting in anger. She doesn’t look fond of the idea. She just stares, her whole body deathly still save for the occasional shiver running through her. It’s like she’s forget the indecent pose she is currently in, all effort is fixed on judging your strange suggestion. “Erm, mother?” Andi leans down and whispers in Margo’s ear. “You can’t take another step can you?” She’s not as quiet as she thinks. You’ve heard everything she says. Margo whispers back and Andi giggles. “There’s no need to worry. You k-know I’d carry you if I could.” Andi smiles. “It’s no problem for Shibo.” Margo shakes her head and beckons Andi to lean in as close as she can, only speaking when her lips are against her daughters ears. “That’s… you don’t need to worry, mother. That won’t happen.” The girls converse in whispers. Once they’re done, Andi stands up, prompting Margo to look up at her with a shameful gaze. Andi smiles and nods her head. The little gunsmith shrugs her shoulders, takes a deep breath, and looks up at you. “Given the circumstances… I’ll allow it…” The flustered look on her face tells you she really doesn’t want to do this, but right now she has no choice. She couldn’t walk another step on her own. You bend down on the ground beside Margo and allow the girl to climb onto your back. You feel small, rough hands tugging onto your shirt and scaling your back. She struggles but Margo gets onto your back and wraps her arms around your shoulders. She smells like rosemary tea, mixed with the strange scent of gunpowder. “Are you up?” You ask. Margo only nods. She doesn’t look you in the eyes, staring off into the distance like you’re not here. She looks off toward the end of the corridor like she's visualising her goal: a nice clean lavatory to use. “Right, can we g-get going, please?” Ayla pleads. “We’ve got to go through the whole fort.” Off you go with a small girl wrapped around your shoulders. On your walk through Fort Victoria, you pass by several large halls. The first one is a training hall, a large stone room with a wall of training weaponry made from wood and iron. A line of straw dummies, some pierced with their strawlike innards littering the floor, run along the rear wall. The next few passages are corridors and stairwells, decorated with banners and portraits of past Guildhands and Masters. You can’t name any of them, it’s only when Andi points out that you realize who they are. The whole fortress reminds you of a castle; drab dark stone walls, lofty wooden beams and large carved ceilings in most halls you pass. The windows give you a fine view of the surrounding country as the last draw of sunlight illuminates the land. You pass a few apprentices and guildhands who pay you no mind, cloaked fighters who are minding their own business. The short girl wrapped around your shoulders draws a few queer gazes, but nothing peculiar. The bigger gazes are toward Ayla, who walks with rigid steps. She draws particular attention to herself when she accidentally steps on a loose board, making a loud squeak that sounds awfully similar to something… embarrassing. When asked if that was a floorboard, she says yes frantically and demands you hurry through the hall. It’s a difficult walk with Margo on your back. The little gunsmith squeezes her legs tightly against your sides. A few times she grips your neck tightly, whimpering softly and pressing her lower body against your back. She tries to be subtle about it, but you can feel her short knees pressing against your back. Whenever you try to ask her how she is holding up, she simply readjusts her glasses and mutters she is fine and that you should hurry. Ayla is different; every step she takes looks like her last as she grasps at her stomach. She’s as stiff as a board in her movement, slow and rigid. In one corridor, she asks for a moment to excuse herself, heading out onto a balcony with the excuse that she just had to check the town was okay. When she went out, she walked to the end of the balcony and turned away, coming back a few seconds later with red cheeks and a shy look in her eyes. It was a strange thing to do, but right now you thought nothing of it. Finally, after a long slow walk, you arrive in the north wing of the fort. Unfortunately the chance to admire your new living quarters is cut short as Margo spurs you on, squeezing your sides with her thighs like a rider atop a horse. For a small girl she has a lot of strength. Past a sizeable living quarters with a large stone fire, there is a small corridor with a wooden door at the end of it. Ayla hurries up when she sees the door, running down it and stopping abruptly as she notices something. “No, no, no!” Ayla stops in front of the door, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. She tears something from the door and sighs with joy. “Oh, thank heavens… I thought we were in trouble.” You take the note from her and examine it for yourself. A note to all apprentices: “There’s only one working privy while we fix the waterway beneath the halls. So if you’ve got to squirt out that rancid filth they serve in the mess, you can turn back ‘round and shit there. Don’t worry, we’re not going to have you pissing from the balconies all night. Work’ll be done shortly after dinner. So keep your arseholes puckered 'til then” - Dockert “Wh-What? What does it say?” You pass the letter to Margo, who adjusts her glasses and reads it quickly. She scrumples up the paper without any regard for the warning and grumbles. “A-At least one is still functional… that old custodian is still good for some…” Margo pauses abruptly. She presses her maidenhood tightly against you, pressing a small, damp feeling against your back. Her fingernails dig into your shoulders. “A-Almost th-there…” She stammers. “J-Just… t-this… do-door.” “Hold on! What do we d-do about the o-one stall?” Andi exclaims, as worried as both girls. “Both of you need to go?” A boot passes by your arm, striking the privy door open with a single kick. Heavens, Margo really did have strength in those little legs; Unless she was channelling her frustration into pure strength. It was the kick of a berzerker; A berzerker fuelled by a full bladder, not by anger. The kick causes her to recoil with a worried whimper. For a second, you think she's going to fall from your back. You don’t feel any warmth… or wetness, but you know she took a risky gamble moving her legs there. "Let's go! Quickly!" She urges you, squeezing your sides with her thighs again. The first thing you notice as you enter the lavatory is the smell of fresh flowers; For a room where the foulest bodily functions are conducted, it sure smelled pleasant, like a delightful garden in the summer. You owe that to the neatly kept basket of flowers hanging over the door. The room is circular, with the sinks in the centre attached to a large pillar. Around the back and side walls are the lavatories, eight alcoves with a small wooden box in them. Seven of them are marked by a red cross hanging from the door. Only the stall furthest left looks to be useable, and it’s the stall Ayla rushes toward, and the one Margo urges you to head to. “Haa~” Ayla pushes her hands together, a large grin of pure happiness dots her freckled face. “E-Excuse me!” She rushes past the sinks toward the one open privy. “N-No!” A short arm reaches past your face, attempting to grab the bard who is already way out of reach for her. “I need to g-go first!” Margo protests. “I’ve been w-waiting long enough.” You could feel the little gunsmith shiver, pressing her thighs tightly against your back, pushing her maidenly area against you. “I have too!” Ayla calls out loud enough that she nearly screams. “P-Please don’t make me beg.” She pleads with her hands together. “I don’t want to have to say what will happen if I don’t use the privy!” She hangs her head in shame. She stops fidgeting and looks down at Margo. With a deep, defeated sigh, Ayla steps aside and offers the unused lavatory to Margo. “You’re right. I shouldn't be selfish. You've been waiting longer than I have.” “S-Shibo, put me down. I can manage a few steps.” You bend down and let Margo hop down to the floor. She lands with trembling legs and immediately pushes her hands between her thighs. “I shan't...” SLAM! “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Ayla pleads for forgiveness as she slams the privy door shut. “If I don’t g-go right now, I’m going to… I’m sorry!” Through the wooden door, you can hear the frantic shuffles and fidgeting as Ayla fights with her clothes. Finally, with a sigh, she pulls down her shorts. “Ah...ah...ahhh~” You hear the creak of wood as Ayla plops herself down, moaning blissfully as at long last, she can finally relieve herself. You can hear the… unpleasant sounds as Ayla unloads herself into the privy. You had a vague sense that it wasn’t her bladder burdening her; a series of loud muddy splats pollute the air in sound as well as smell, all set to a tone of relieved whimpers that die down into a gentle song. "Haaaa~" At the end of it, you hear the bard grunt, following up with a soft pfft that forces a shy eep from behind the door. "Hmm~" “Verdamme fotze!” Margo yells angrily in a foreign tongue. She bangs on the door angrily with her one free hand. The other is down the front of her trousers, fondling an area best left unmentioned. She continues banging on the privy door, cursing in her foreign tongue. Bang! Bang! Bang! Until… the banging stops. Margo goes quiet, her body goes still, she takes a deep breath and gulps. For the first time, the little gunsmith looks straight ahead with a look of horror on her face. Her hand rests against the privy door, shaking. The poor girl can’t even stay on her feet, slumping down until she is squatting. Her other hand digs deeper between her thighs. Margo bites her lips and whimpers painfully. Was this is it for the poor Gunsmith? Beaten at the last step? What happens next? >Margo wets herself >Margo relieves herself in a container >Margo rushes to the corner and relieves herself on the floor >Margo uses a sink >Other
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