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Pregnant-Pocket-Pussy Veronica	By : Tastatura Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 16824 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This is a fictional story. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental.I make no money by doing this. I do not own Dragon Quest or Veronica(tm).

Chapter List
- 1-Serena is nice too, actually. Straight up.
- 1
You know, every now and then, a nigga sees some shit that forces them to reevaluate their position on the yard-stick with which they measure themselves. Emphasis in this phenomenon falls to the word ‘forces’. A nigga doesn’t reevaluate their position because they want to—they do it because they have been presented with an amount of evidence and impetus such that not doing so makes them look retarded.

I don’t think this concept is very difficult to understand, but in the event that you don’t, consider the following.

So you’re sitting at home running through the art blog of your boy Tenseiani for old time’s sake. You know exactly what to expect, so you don’t pay much attention to anything that you see because it amounts to par for the course. In the first place, there wasn’t anything about the content depicted that was enough to make you really pay attention to the fine print.

Eventually, you come across a pair of images that, as a consequence of current events, stand out to you as particularly relevant. You look at these images and arrive at the understanding that you’ve forgotten something very important about the nuance wielded by the pair of individuals responsible for the image’s production.

At this point, you’re forced to stop scrolling and think. You arrive at the understanding that learning a second language isn’t always the greatest idea. You’re not shaken psychologically—you’re just thinking to yourself: “Damn nigga, that’s wild. That’s out of control, b. How do you do that, man? Where do you get the stones to pull that off, that’s crazy, man, fuckkkkk.”

Inevitably, you overcome your awe, and proceed to consider something much more interesting and productive.

“Man, what if someone with a sufficient amount of interest and a sufficiently crippling inability to just leave things alone and properly select what to devote time to decided to extrapolate the concepts presented by that image just a little bit further? What if, you know, just for fun, someone decided to derive context from the intentionally narrow passage of conversation presented by the image as a means of creating something even more obscene? Most importantly, what if this person decided to apply themselves to the hopeless task of textually transcribing these extrapolations with the hope of reproducing a more prolonged iteration of the effect exerted by the original image?”

In asking these questions, you realize that there is no sense in arguing in affirmation of them. Instead, you remember that you’re one such individual capable of performing the acts. You realize that you’re not nearly as cool, but you open Google Documents and start typing.

As you do, you start thinking about how you’re going to make a blonde, ostensibly child-sized adult getting fucked in breeding press by some guy appealing.

Though you fail to think of anything, you continue typing what inevitably becomes a hyperbolic foreword entirely unrelated to the story you intend to write.

And you don’t stop.
-
HELIODOR—HOW DOES IT WORK?

Much like its counterparts in Erdrea’s ‘Big 4 Kingdoms’, the capital city of Heliodor is a city whose complexion shifts with the waxing of the sun.

During the day, it is as the world widely considers it—a city of stunning wealth and complexity that facilitates the lives of both rich and poor. At night, however, it falls away from this definition. Its resplendence does not fade, but is in many ways overshadowed by distinct shifts in its presentation.

Streets typically adorned by adventurers, knights, and tourists alike become home to a particular brand of thrill seeker and those that might profit from the facilitation of these ‘thrills’. Prostitution, gambling, ‘professional’ help—provided one knows the correct names and walks with enough coin lining their pockets, any number of thrilling obscenity might be procured from one of the innumerable houses, taverns, and shacks strewn out across the cityscape.

The descriptor ‘any’ is not an exaggeration perpetuated by shopkeepers for profit. No, if one takes to the streets of Heliodor at night with a clear enough goal and a large enough purse, that which stands between them and that which they desire is no more than time.

Well…

Time, and, presuming one such individual is perverse enough, the whims and fancies of a certain, brown-haired young man with the freshest haircut a nigga ever seen.

-

HELIODOR BACK STREETS—EARLY MORNING

Across the streets of Heliodor strode a pair of individuals hand in hand. One immensely tall and wide male and the other immensely short, their procession began at the beginning of the street—one of the city’s prime locations for female prostitutes to show off their wares—and ended deep within one of the residential districts towards the downtown core.

Amongst the drunkards and womanizers of the city, their procession was innocuousness personified…

Or it ought to have been. What could have been a sight tractable to a late-night stroll between a father and daughter was tainted by the pregnant swell at the child’s stomach and the facial features that she owned. Amongst those concerned with the Heliodoran nightlife, these marked her unmistakably as Veronica: an ostensibly underage prostitute owning guile and conviction uncanny to her trade. Near-constantly pregnant as a consequence of her work and seemingly indifferent to the fact, hers was a service that a very particular breed of male could not help but clamor to. By her admission (and the vouching of several aspects of her frame and behavior), she was an adult. In terms of height and face, though, she was, ostensibly, a rosy-cheeked child—the exact sort that a pent-up degenerate might hope to further violate with their semen.

To these degenerates, she represented the best of both worlds— a delicious loop-hole within the allowances of Heliodoran law. Others, though, could not help but view the girl with an air of cautious disgust. Around her swirled rumors of companionship with the legendary Luminary, and alongside them, many a story about her failed attempts at motherhood. Regardless of their truth value, their combination painted a depraved picture of her origins and inclinations.

The man with whom she walked was not one to concern himself with such rumors. Tanned and cragged by daily labor completed for profit, his face and posture suggested naught but comfort despite the sizing of the prostitute at his side.

And he was comfortable. Whilst gliding through the humid stagnation of the city’s air, he believed himself no worse than any other man making use of a prostitute after a hard day’s labor. Seemingly bolstered by his mindset, he allowed Veronica to lead the way through the city’s back streets without acknowledging any of the whispers and stares passed in his direction. So taken was he with his ‘prospects’ for the evening that he did not so much as flinch when the moist heat of the outside world acquired compliment through a pungent sexual stink unique to enclosed spaces.

It was only at the sound of Veronica’s voice that his senses returned to reality. With this, his eyes were prompted to scan his new surroundings in search of information as to his circumstance. Around him was the interior of a rundown wooden cabin likely situated within the city’s dismal downtown core. Below him was the same red-hatted blonde he had paid on the street minutes prior.

She was no longer holding his hand. Now, both of her limbs could be seen engaged in a hurried peel of her stained and disheveled dress from off of her minuscule frame.

What success they found exposed yet another source of visual stimulation for the arousal welling within his gut.

Underneath the reds and whites of Veronica’s dress was a body gleaming with sweat and often smeared to a glossy gleam with pungent, squid-scented semen. Just below her pubic-hair flecked baby-face sat a pair of swollen, D-cup breasts whose fronts were consumed by smooth, soft-pink pancakes of areola. Made thicker by the nipples inverted just underneath them, the leaking pockets perfectly represented a pair of breasts appropriate for a soon-to-be-mother. They did not belong to one such woman, however. Instead, they hung as perverse decorations for a semen-smeared perversion of a little girl’s frame.

Yeah, so anyway.

Though both breasts were perky enough to sit firmly at her chest in spite of their milk-swollen weight, the excess infused into these mounds resulted in an ever-so-slight squishing of their undersides against the taut flesh-globe protruding from their owner’s middle. Round, smooth, and ended with the meek protrusion of her belly button, the size of her stomach implied the latest of her pregnancies to have reached its midpoint (if not slightly before or after it). Devoid of the surface blemishes and stretch marks typically seen across pregnancy-stretched flesh, the volleyball-sized sphere almost seemed too perfect a distension to belong to a traditional pregnancy in the first place.

From the male’s perspective, the exact nature of her last insemination was unimportant. What mattered was the statement it made regarding her fertility, and the fact that the extent of her pregnancy was to have no bearing on the extent to which he ‘enjoyed’ himself.

As a woman very familiar with the sort of attention that her unfortunate frame attracted, Veronica paid no attention to her latest customer’s ogling. Instead fastening her hat, she smoothly strode forward by several steps before dropping herself down onto the beginnings of the hut’s padded floor space. Doing so deftly and smoothly despite the weights that her body carried, she afterwards turned to face the male, and finally parted her legs in as suggestive a seated position as she could manage.

Then, following a hungry swipe of her tongue from one end of her sealed lips to the other, she spoke.

“Right, well, let’s go on with it. I do want to try and make a little bit more money tonight if I can.” Veronica began. “No need to be shy. You paid to do use my holes are your drooling baby-juice dumpsters, so do it—rape my holes my insides with your disgusting cock until I can’t see straight ♥.

An immediate answer to the sex-smeared blonde’s question did not come. Believing her latest customer to be suffering from an instance of stage fright, she rolled her eyes and raised a hand.

“Come on now you massive lummox—now isn’t the time to be getting cold feet!” she chirped. Raising her dominant hand, she pointed her index finger down at rounded flesh set between her stomach and hipline.

As intended, her doing so drew the male’s gaze straight down to the region. There, his eyes picked out a sequential series of pale violet tattoos, each seeming as a disjointed crescent moon with a strike running through its center.

“Look, see these? You’ve eyes, don’t you?” she suggested. “That’s how many times doing this has made me give birth in the middle. You get it, right? I don’t care: this is work that I need to do in order to be of use to the Luminary. Work that I enjoy, for that matter.” she teased.

“So, on with it! You’re one of those closet deviants who has been dying to splatter their rancid dick juice all over a cute wittle face like mine, right?” she continued, an inflection of her voice pitched upward to make her voice match her frame.

As it turned out, Veronica’s deductions were only partly correct. Just as she finished with her latest round of assurance, the burly male surged down towards her. Dropping down to his knees, he aggressively unfastened the garments gloving his lower body throughout a lunge toward her.

Once close enough, he found her frame with his hands. Sealing a worn limb to the underside of each of her thighs, he drew both of the doll-length limbs upwards. Afterwards, he spread them far enough apart to clear the width of her stomach and finally depressed them as far backwards as their loosened joints and musculature would allow.

A great deal of strength was injected into these acts—strength that was ultimately unrequired. Right through to the depression of her spread legs, Veronica’s frame remained as loose and opposable as an actual doll.

No less driven as a result of the realization, the male adjusted his position overtop her without any prompting. Setting his feet flat to the ground, he parted them just beside the exposed undersides of her thighs. Next, he bent his knees through a squat so as to dump his crotch (and the grotesque pipe of tanned, wart-bulked erection hanging from it) down toward contact with the bald, leaking ring of anus flesh guarding Veronica’s asshole.

Stirred by the heat and humidity bleeding off of the near-foot of cockmeat inches from both of her holes, a giggle cut between sultriness and genuine amusement slipped from Veronica’s cheeks not long afterwards.

“There, that’s much better! You know exactly how this works, don’t you, Mr.Baby-Fucker?” she teased.

Here, the burly male met his blonde fleshlight’s expectations. With his dominant hand, he grasped the base of his shaft and poised its tip just above the drooling mound beneath it.

Next, he dropped. Compressing his squat even further than it had begun, he squarely depressed the greasy bulk of his member straight down into the pliant humidity stored past Veronica’s asshole. Wheezing blissfully whilst his girth enjoyed compression within the uterus-smothered tube and the congealed flesh contained within it, he forced himself as far as a wet, crotch-to-crotch hilt within the orifice before coming to a stop.

The moment the filth-flecked meat of his glans slipped past the tender fat of Veronica’s sphincter, a squeal of pleasure burst from her lips.

“HI-NYUGGGGHH~!! T-THAT’S RIGHT, S-STUFF YOURSELF ALL THE WAY INSIDE ♥!” she cheered. “D-DO IT! F-FUCK MY SECOND B-BABY-PUSSY FULL OF YOUR NASTY COCK UNTIL I GIVE BIRTH!”

As if assuring his seemingly-underage muse of what was to come, the male met her utterance with a succinct compression of both his palms around the narrow span of her neck. Fastening both limbs to the region as a pair of conjoined nooses, he applied pressure so as to limit Veronica’s speech to the girlish squeals that swelled his erection so.

Finally, he began to thrust. Sneer blooming across his maw, he raised and floored his crotch within seconds of one another to set his frame on the long, disgusting path toward the brutalization of the semen-gunked meat of Veronica’s asshole…

-

DRAGON QUEST 11 WAS 79.99 PLUS TAX IN MY COUNTRY. IT WAS/IS WORTH IT, BUT JESUS CHRIST, NIGGA

“GRUUUGH F-FUCK YES!! Y-YOUR ASSHOLE IS SO TIGHT, VERONICA-CHAN!! I-I’M GONNA SEED IT! I’M GOING TO STAIN YOUR SLUTTY ASSCUNT WITH MY COCK JUICE!!”

Among the utterances produced by the male following the depression of his member into the slovenly depths of Veronica’s asshole, only the above was intelligible. Those that followed it were limited to the garbled grunts and groans produced by a man utterly consumed by his quest for sexual stimulation.

However incoherent, these exclamations were those best-suited for him at present.

After his successful penetration of Veronica’s insides and his first attempt at extracting himself from their suffocating, sex-bulked confines, the male found himself compelled to apply every bit of desire and brutality welled up within him to the gutting of his tiny muse’s asshole. Motivated so far as to ‘settle’ for the extraction of only a fraction of his horrid endowment from her rear, the thrusts that he produced following the first were delivered with the wild speed and inconsistency one might expect of an animal.

The thrusting pattern itself and the ‘motivation’ that had spawned it were not products of happenstance. Both were direct products of the pleasure fed into the raging meat of his erect by the confines of Veronica’s asshole, and by proxy, direct consequences of his desire to mash the hole into an even more pliant chute of cock-greased gutmeat. In the seconds that followed the initial plunge of his member through them, intestine flesh fucked wet and puffy by countless instances of prior sex collapsed inwards into a shameless ‘throating’ of his endowment’s inches in all of their oversized glory. When faced with invasion by nearly a foot of leaking and unwashed cock, the organ did not falter. Instead, when finally the man arrived at his first hilt within the tube, it went as far as exacerbating its glutted suckle into a coiled constriction of their confines around his member. Held throughout his insertion and even through the strenuous evacuation of his cock’s inches from their grasp, the need-based advent delivered a potent message through the core of the male’s member and up into the heart of his mind:

Veronica’s asshole wished for abuse. Regardless of its sandwiching by the swell of her womb and its subordination to the leaking mound bred by a countless number of males, its hunger persisted as a sort that only the most vigorous of seeding sessions could satiate.

On perception of this message, maximization of the breeding press he had sandwiched Veronica into became the male’s only avenue for a ‘worthwhile’ experience.

Achieving such ‘maximization’ was likely to require the use of his entire frame. Thus, whilst his wrists and forearms exacerbated the compression of Veronica’s windpipe and ‘steadied’ his bulked mass overtop her, he put the hardened musculature of his quadriceps and abdominals to use in the repetition of deep, inward angled squats. Shoveling his crotch forward throughout his descent toward the ground and whipping it outwards each time he sprang back upwards, the combined motion patterns saw the better part of his member rifled through one invasive goring of Veronica’s asshole after another. Contrary to the effect wrought from these compressions, the majority of his erection remained within Veronica’s pressurized glove of intestine flesh throughout their execution. Whilst these inches were driven back and forth through a consistent bloating of her large intestines, the inches most immediate to the haired expanse of his crotch were repeatedly jack-hammered into and out from the cutely-enflamed sphincter that padded the entrance to her asshole. Like this, each compression of his quads drove delivered his phallus as a weighted punch through the cock-sucking tightness of her innards. Similarly, each partial straightening of his legs peeled these inches back through the sputtering hole just far enough to ensure that their re-insertion would be stimulating.

Minutes into the thumping metronome, that which the male perceived was utter bliss. His chosen ministrations subjected his member to a consistent, wringing stimulation from the tip of is member down to a point just short of its base. Though sometimes uneven and always ill-timed, each dumping of his crotch also coincided with the expulsion of a healthy excess of precum through his member, and better still, a fattening of the growing reservoir of semen boiling within the base of his member.

As provided by a prostitute, these sensations by themselves were often enough to validate ‘investment’ from any man.

This male in particular, however, enjoyed more. Whilst delivering his monstrous crotch-stabs, his eyes, ears, and even his mind garnered additional stimulation from the identity of the ‘woman’ beneath him.

Beneath him was a woman—a woman who, at a glance, appeared no different from a particularly fat-breasted and pregnant ostensible child. Rendered red-faced and cross-eyed by the masculine limbs at her neck, she endured the rapid invasion of her compact innards not with screams for clemency, but with screams of desire and vulgar statements of the obvious.

“I-I’M CUMMIN’ T-THRUST I-INTO MY ASSHOLE M-MORE!! S-STIRR IT UP MOREEEEE ♥♥!” she’d squeak, voice shrill and manic.

“F-FUCKIN’ W-WISH’A B-BABBY IN ME F-FHELSH GOOOOD ♥! I-I C’N FEEL E-EVERYTHIN!! A-ALL OF YOUR T-THRUSTIN’S GONNA M-MAKE ME GIVE BIBRTH ♥♥!”

Hearing such obscenities spoken from the mouth of an ostensible child flicked an innumerable number of switches within the man. These were the same switches that had motivated him to select her amongst all of the prostitutes of Heliodor, and as well, the same concerned with his choice to suffocate her throughout his use of her ‘services’.

The reason for his arousal could be found in Veronica’s original description of him: the male was a degenerate with a sweet tooth for youth. Naturally, seeing drool spill from the corner of Veronica’s mouth as she attempted speech aroused him. Seeing the pale blue of her irises invaded solely by the most minuscule of bright pink hearts aroused him. Feeling her cunt hopelessly spew its slimy lubrication against his crotch each time he hilted himself with her asshole aroused him.

For a man so thoroughly enamored by such obscene sources of sexual pleasure, the ‘length’ of the experience he had paid for was irrelevant. Having finally accrued the multi-faceted arousal that only an ostensibly youthful prostitute could provide, the passage of time and the perpetuation of his womb-grazing gut punches narrowed his interests to a single event.

Release.
-

BIG SHOUTOUTS TO THE YOUNG JOCK TENSEIANI

In terms of actual duration, the span of the male’s orgasm and that which his semen’s congestion within Veronica intestines induced within her hormone-addled cunt actually paled in comparison to the amount of time that the pair spent engaged in sexual intercourse.

Neither the male nor Veronica recognized this, however. To them, the billowing of semen from out of the male’s cock tip and its vile clogging of the uterus-compressed intestine flesh sprawled out before it consumed the span of eternity. The euphoria that they enjoyed did subject their perception of the event to a certain amount of exaggeration, but this aside, the raw duration of their respective releases remained considerable enough for the delusions themselves to hold water.

In total, the time elapsed from the final, piston-speed depression of the male’s length to the final blurt of curdled cockslime out from the nose of his member bordered 2 full minutes. Contained within the first second of this period was the eruption of a heavy length of nut elongated and thickened by a week’s stewing within his balls. Thick enough to mirror a semi-solid, cream-diluted batter, but nevertheless ‘fluid’ enough to flow as a balmy paste or slime, its composition perfectly accommodate the womb-squished tubing it was to be crammed into. Specifically, rather than immediately clotting atop the flesh most immediate to it, this initial jet was aptly propelled through her guts as a malleable battering ram. Wriggling through sandwiched intestines and curling through its bends, its ‘impact’ against her guts came only after a foot of Veronica’s internal tubing was cleared.

The ropes of seed that came after it performed similarly. Ejected first on a second-by-second basis, then later at a more erratic and haggard pace befitting the irregular length and glut of the expulsions that left the male’s urethra, every drop of seed to leave his length thoroughly invaded Veronica’s innards before becoming caked to them.

In doing so, a great deal of the intestine flesh ‘unexplored’ by the male’s member was treated to a fraction of the destructive breeding handed to her large intestine by his cock. Rope by rope, sperm-packed strands stained and scalded her innards with enough frequency and virility to tease the disturbed mass within her uterus. Fed within her to the tune of a chilling *GLORP—GLORP—GLORP* and timed to the twitches that ran through the male’s cunt-flattened testicles, it seemed as though the male’s member intended to utterly drain itself within her.

As the volume of steaming grime within her grew, the aggression with which her guts were invaded per shot enjoyed minimization via the muddy clogging of the very same ‘ejection path’ with the substance itself.

Inevitably, the expected occurred. The moment her guts were made to balloon even slightly with semen, their bloat was met with confrontation by the swollen stagnation of her uterus.

It was at this point, when the heat of her semen-swelled guts came into contact with her womb and the continued vomiting of semen inside her rear was curtailed by her unborn child, that Veronica’s orgasm began.

“YESSSSS!! BABY JUIYSH IS STUFFIN’ MY ASSHOLE ♥♥! G-GETTING’ MY TUMMY S-SWELLED WITH NASTY P-PEDO B-BABY JUYSH I-S’H TH’ BESSSST~!”

With the male’s orgasm only halfway elapsed, the continued outflow of semen from his member resulted in the discharge of a great deal of semen from out of Veronica’s asshole. Initially bubbling from out of the corners of her cock-spread asshole, the expansion and deflation of the male’s member eventually packed enough semen within her to induce a heavy, out-and-out splatter of jizz around the full circumference of her sphincter. Not only was a great deal of the lurid slime sent downward into several staining collisions with the ground, but lengthy spurts of the substance were blown upwards into a series of shoelace-length plasters across the surface of Veronica’s stomach.

Not surprisingly, the escalation of the male’s orgasm to this point brought him to speak out as well.

“NUOOOUGH!! T-TAKE MY BALLSNOT, VERONICA! I-I’M GONNA INSEMINATE YOUR TINY SHITHOLE WITH MY JIZZ! SWALLOW EVERY FUCKING DROP OF MY BABYMILK!!” he bellowed.

Undaunted by the impossibility of his claim, the male held the crotch-to-crotch squat he had imposed over Veronica’s frame as if doing so might bring the happening he desired about. From this point right up until the end of his orgasm some seconds later, the weight of his crotch and the bulk of his member ensured a voluminous pile of crotch-mounted semen was built from the floor beneath Veronica’s frame up to the beginnings of her cratered anus.

Despite the fervor installed within him throughout his release, the male did not linger when the sting of his release began to ebb. First releasing his choking grasp on Veronica’s neck, he subsequently set about dislodging the girth of his member from her innards inch by semen-greased inch.

Circumstances ranging from the constrictive tightness of her guts and the occasional squirm of the mass within her womb made this process far more trying than it would have been ordinarily. Whereas the brutish outward tugs of his crotch might’ve seen his shaft nastily dragged from her folds within seconds, a secure bracing of her frame with his palms and several additional seconds of work were required to see his member properly extracted from her depths.

This done, he dropped Veronica to the ground, and rose to his feet to prepare for departure. Indifferently collecting the articles of clothing he had discarded in his original descent, he did as was customary for a male following use of a prostitute and began to pretend as though Veronica did not exist.

If not for the tiny blonde’s cooing and squirming, he might’ve succeeded in this as well. Morbid curiosity as to the consequences of his orgasm eventually drew part of his gaze into constant observation of Veronica’s frame.

Still laid out precisely where he had dumped her, her hands had shifted from an orgasmic splaying at her sides to a matronly clutch of her stomach. Across her face were mixed signs of strain and outright bliss. Whilst one of her nostrils drooled mucus and tears streamed from the corner of her eyes, a jagged smile spread across her maw applied a degree of sanity to her visage.

Given the state of her frame, this sanity was impressive. Matching the slow tumble of voluminous seed from out of her destroyed asshole was the peak of an infant skull from between her lower lips. Heralded by heavy spurts of clear female lubricant from her depths, one could safely discern that her latest bout of sex was one bout too many for the pre-term life within her.

Fundamentally, the sight ought’ve invoked disgust within the male.

Veronica’s squealing would not have this, however.

From the orgasmic exclamations she produced came only a depraved sense of pride and accomplishment—the sort reserved solely for men in the right…
- 1
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Pregnant-Pocket-Pussy Veronica