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pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

Is this another feel-good story? Not sure. It's a little less feely-good than the last one, at least. Not all the dicks get stuck in all the holes they want to get stuck in. SHOCKER

Who am I kidding? It's another feel-good story lol why am I broken like this

archiveofourown.org/works/74802386

Make Me Say it Out Loud by pickleherring on AO3

Franzi is very loud for a small woman. When she is getting dicked down by her wife the whole house gets to hear the happy news. Meanwhile her sister-in-law Angela has had about as much frustration as she can take.

November 26, 2025 at 4:57 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

This is up next. Looking forward to some ginger badassery!

paperback cover of Red Sonja: Consumed, by Gail Simone

October 28, 2025 at 1:48 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

QRP with a blondie!

“If it so pleases my ladies, you may examine this girl. She is my finest,” the woman stood aside, “She is very beautiful, and will be to your pleasure.”

At the center of the tent space, her bare feet planted apart on the straw-strewn ground, there stood a very tall and very robust young woman, naked, with her arms upraised and chained by the loop of a manacle to the support pole that held up the roof of the tent. Her hair was fine and bright blonde and her skin was tanned a creamy brown. She was full-figured, but taut like a workwoman or a farmhand. Her legs were smooth and strong, her hips were broad and heavy, her big bust even more so, and her face was plain and sweet, but defiant, holding Thilde’s gaze in an unblinking blue-eyed stare.

And her cock was gorgeous. Thilde stared longingly. The shaft was thick and heavy, hanging limp between her thighs, and the protruding tip looked soft and inviting.

“Ooh, oh, um,” Marionna gulped and then composed herself, “Well, hmm, indeed, let me examine her. I will not suffer myself to be pleasured by just any runaway girl from the boglands.”

“Oh no,” the slaver woman chuckled, “She has never even seen the boglands. She is a spoil of war, from among the savage peoples of the plain. There I believe she was a princess, to her own tribe at any rate. She does not even speak our tongue.”

“Very well. So let me see whether she can at least comply with a simple command,” Marionna approached the chained slave girl, looked up at her and made a gesture of opening her mouth. She beckoned, “Come, open your mouth girl.”

September 30, 2025 at 10:18 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

Ok, this is up next! Already read Warhound and Grasping the Weapon, now super excited (pronounced 'shit scared') to see what delicious depths this plumbs

paperback cover of WARHOUND by Kallidora Rho

September 30, 2025 at 9:41 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

YOU! If u see this, post huge breasts 🍈🍈🤤

“Righto,” Bessie said, and started unclasping the buttons at the front of her blouse.

Tamara looked. Then tried not to look. Then failed. Then finally she just gave in and stared. As the front of Bessie’s blouse popped open button by button, Tamara realized that the girl wasn’t fat at all. What she had taken to be a prominent, bulging stomach was in fact in its entirety the squished-together mass of two of the most colossal breasts Tamara had seen outside of hentai. Or inside of hentai, come to think of it.

“We have to get undressed?” Tamara ventured. She watched the final button come undone with a taut pop and spill the ill-confined contents of Bessie’s blouse out onto her lap.

Bessie looked up at her, bemused, “Well I don’t have much choice, do I? It’s optional for you I guess. But don’t let me stop you if you want to. I wouldn’t mind. You’re kind of cute.”

“Um, alright,” Tamara fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt, hesitating. She didn’t want to appear prudish.

Maybe country people always get naked for farm work? Saves on laundry, I suppose.

She rolled up her t-shirt and pulled it off over her head. She looked around for somewhere to put it, and settled for draping it over the open door.

“Ooh, nice tits,” Bessie clapped her hands together excitedly.

Tamara felt rather self-conscious standing there in only her underwear, with her very petite, pointy breasts beside Bessie’s mammoth rack.

Oh God. Now I’ve got to return the compliment, haven’t I? I’m going to have to mention the elephants in the room.

Minty looked. This time she read it carefully. She took in the horizontal arrows drawn across each of the thicker parts of the wooden panel, and the accompanying text:

YOU MUST BE

← THIS →

← BIG →

TO BE A SUCCUBUS

“Ah,” Minty’s face fell and her heart sank. She looked at the succubus who was still pushing her back, “This is about boobs, isn’t it? But why?”

The succubus rolled her eyes and sighed. She tucked the gum she was chewing into one cheek and spoke, “If you wanna harvest the souls of horny schmucks, then you gotta have the goods to lure them in, honey.”

As if to demonstrate, the succubus took her own bust in her hands and hefted it slowly up and down. Minty’s jaw dropped. Despite her annoyance, Minty had to admit that the fiery-haired young demoness in front of her was smoking hot. At least from the neck down. She had that smarmy bitch pretty-girl face that Minty instantly hated, but holy fucking Hell was she stacked! An eye-wateringly tight cheerleader’s crop-top held her colossal tits strapped awkwardly to her chest. Each one of them alone looked bigger than Minty’s entire skinny butt. Their soft titmeat bulged out haphazardly at every seam of the pathetic crop-top, spilling out under the chestband and over the top of the neckline.

“Right, right,” Katharina nodded. She wasn’t sure she understood the subtle chagrin she sensed in Ivy’s demeanor, but she sought quickly for something that might help dispel it, “Oh. What about that girl we met just now? Caroline?”

“Yes, yes,” Ivy shoved her hips back against Katharina’s idle thrusting, “Caroline. Oh yes. Her.”

“Yeah. She was really fucking hot,” Katharina laughed. She was relieved to hear a note of enthusiasm again in Ivy’s response.

“Hot, hot, hot,” Ivy groaned. She lifted her head and spoke again in her familiar brash shout of a voice, “That body! Fuuuck. Just overflowing with dmurrhisi goodness. Okay. Come on, tell me. What are you gonna do to her?”

“What is Vera going to do to her, more like,” Katharina giggled.

“Fuck Vera!” Ivy hissed. She yanked hard on Katharina’s dick, “As soon as we get to the North Wing, you and me Katja are gonna plow the living heck out of those fat tits. Just you and me.”

“Okay okay,” Katharina laughed, giddy. Then she groaned as Ivy’s sudden jerking slowed to a long, firm stroke, “Uhh, yeah. I bet she loves titfucking. Holy Goddess the size of them! She’ll be like, ‘Ivy, let me completely envelop your dick in my giant soft rack and squeeze and slosh and slap until’-”

“‘Completely envelop’?” Ivy grunted, “What are you trying to say Katja?”

“Oh. No, I mean, like, they’re just so big… I didn’t mean-”

“I’m kidding,” Ivy laughed, “Hell even you’d get lost in there.”

"What is it with groping my stomach you two? These magnificent fat tits are right here," Lina hefted her bust up and down in her hands, "But you just can't keep your hands off the mom gut, huh? Is it really so fascinating?"

"Just, mmm..." Mariia moaned against Lina's lips, twisting her face to kiss her deeply. She dug her fingers into the heaped up tire of fat that sat across Lina's big hips, and kneaded firmly, scrunching Lina's pale loose flesh in her fist, "Sooo... soft."

Bobbi's hand went to her own stomach beneath the water. Vast, round, but taut and firm. She watched Mariia's cock strain up stiff, twitching each time Lina's lips slid over hers. The skin of the shaft, stretched tight by her swollen hardness, looked pink with friction, and was covered in tiny flakes of dried wetness.

"Mmph, come on though," Lina freed herself from Mariia's kissing, and looked down at Bobbi and Stacy, "I'm not crazy or something, right? Surely you agree, I have an absolutely cracking pair of big fat jugs."

Bobbi laughed, "You do. Don't worry."

"I mean," Lina looked down at her, eyes wide. Her pouting lips, with their dark lipstick now slightly smeared into the blushing pink of kiss friction around them, curled into a grin, "Not quite in the same league as those new mom milkers you've suddenly grown, Bobbi. Fuck, those are huge. What have you been eating?"

Bobbi looked down. She gathered her breasts in her hands and lifted them out of the water, felt their weight return as they breached the surface, and watched them spill over the span of her splayed fingers. She hummed and hahhed, made a show of examining herself, and chuckled, "Yeah I dunno. Several bowls of cereal every evening, haha."

September 24, 2025 at 3:32 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

Ein Prosit! To celebrate the start of Oktoberfest, here is my Dicks-n-Dirndls themed story from last year: Gocktoberfest!

archiveofourown.org/works/68051036

“So what’s with the butt thingy?” Mariia whispered to Yvonne as they began fetching glasses from the drying racks.

“It keeps you hard,” Yvonne slung a trio of glasses under one of the taps, “For the spirit of Gocktoberfest.”

“Haha, that is such a dumb name,” Mariia chuckled as she watched the glasses fill.

"What? 'Gock'?" Yvonne looked up from her pouring with a mischievous smirk on her face, "Fun fact, did you know it's actually onomatopoeic?"

"Huh?" Mariia frowned.

Yvonne pursed her lips into a wide 'o' and held her fist in front of her face, miming the insertion of a long object. "Ghockh... ghokk... gockk," she gurgled.

Mariia clapped her hand to her face to silence a loud snort of laughter.

"Girls," Romy's stern voice called from the other end of the bar counter, "You're spilling."

"What?" Yvonne looked around, then down at the beer glass in front of her, now buried under a mound of white froth still spilling from the tap above, "Ahh fuckfuckfuck!"

September 20, 2025 at 3:55 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

Lucie worries she'll never get to kiss a girl, with her weird lopsided boobs and her hairy arms. Luckily she has the best aunt in the world, who will do absolutely anything to show Lucie a good time on her birthday.

Yep, it's another feel-good story! (sry lol)

archiveofourown.org/works/69605611

Aunt Janey, by pickleherring

It's Lucie's eighteenth birthday and she's feeling glum. Will she ever get to put her cock in a pretty girl? Luckily her cool rock'n'roll aunt is here to take her on a birthday evening out and cheer her up.

August 22, 2025 at 6:59 AM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

#WIP

Lucie pulled away the wrapping paper and held in her hand what seemed to be a broad piece of faded black fabric. She lifted it up, and it unfolded itself into a large-size black t-shirt with a slightly scuffed splash text printed across the chest in fiery yellow block lettering. Beneath the lettering was a color image, also slightly faded, but recognizable. Three slim young women with muscle-taut limbs, bronzed skin and big tousled mops of hair sat reclining in scant chain mail bikinis atop a snarling jaguar. The women wore heavy make-up and fearsome expressions, and were brandishing their guitars like axes. Lucie read the emblazoned text: 'AMAZONZ'

"Oh. Wow Aunt Janey, this is fucking cool. Thank you," Lucie exclaimed.

"I know they're a bit of an older band," Jane smiled, "But I've heard you listening to some of their songs. I thought you might like to have it."

Amazonz. Lucie had discovered their music videos on the internet, during a phase in which she had been devouring the metal classics, swinging her long hair around her bedroom in time to growling deep guitar riffs. Her eye had been caught by the thumbnails at first, lots of bare skin on show, nipples peeking through the links of the chain mail and cocks bulging beneath draping loincloths. But then it was the energy of their performances that held her captivated, the sheer exuberant aggression of the music, while the lead singer Suszie Slay's powerful hoarse voice screamed out angry innuendos.

August 20, 2025 at 2:23 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

It's here! Ever since the first series ended I was so curious to know more about Fadi's story

cover of 'Moi, Fadi: Le frère volé' by Riad Sattouf

August 4, 2025 at 10:59 AM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

I am migrating my old original fiction over to AO3, so if you only know me there then you will see a few new things appearing under a pseud of mine. Starting with some tender, romantic selfcest.

archiveofourown.org/works/67993566

Madeleines Dream

Aged eighteen, Madeleine Proust is a shy, clueless young lesbian still finding herself among the wreckage of her first big breakup. Aged forty, she is a powerful witch at the pinnacle of her career in magic. So of course she uses her powers to travel back in time and have sex with her younger self.

July 23, 2025 at 10:42 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

If you see this, post your OC masturbating: Writers' edition!

Katharina disliked intensely the idea of jerking off perfunctorily, simply in order to relieve herself. Like most Sisterhood girls, she had masturbated prolifically during adolescence, and still did when she got the chance, but she had tried always to find something new to think about when she did, rather than just blankly jerk until she came. She liked to explore some new corner of her fantasy every time, even if only a trivial one. It helped to stave off the feeling of regret that followed orgasm. She felt better about herself if she came away with at least one new idea, something hot that she had never thought about before.

She turned the metal knob of the shower and waited until it reached a warm, steamy temperature. Then she put her head beneath the stream of water and let it wash over her shoulders and down her body. She took hold of her dick in one hand, near the top, so that as she began slowly tugging, the knuckles of her clenched fist ran over the underside of the tip, where she got the most intense relief. If she had been lying on her bed or elsewhere, she would also have put the other hand at the base, or cupped it over her balls, but in the shower it just felt right and natural to plant one hand on the wall and lean forward, as if some other girl were there between her and the wall.

July 20, 2025 at 11:28 AM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

wippin'

The maid's uniform was recognizably maidly. It was composed at least of the requisite colors, a smock of glossy black with trimmings in starched white lace. But the smock, though neatly tailored to the girl's full figure, only just barely held to it, in a manner that seemed to have been calculated with a particular geometry of precariousness so as to reveal as much of her soft, cream-white skin as was permissible while remaining at least definitionally an overgarment.

June 27, 2025 at 6:49 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

did you know...?

The term 'bimbo' as an insult originally applied to men and was used in boxing slang. The modern sense of the word only became widespread much later.

www.etymonline.com/word/bimbo

By 1919 it began to be used generally of a stupid or ineffectual man, a usage Damon Runyon traced to Philadelphia prize-fight slang. He wrote, that July, in a column printed in several newspapers, of a hotel lobby fist-fight between "Yankee Schwartz, the old Philadelphia boxer," and another man, which Schwartz wins.

"No Bimbo can lick me," he said, breathlessly, at the finish.

June 19, 2025 at 12:00 AM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

wipping

sometimes I feel like it must be advancing age that makes me dwell on the details of description idk, but I think when I look back I realize I always enjoyed writing character entrances at least as much as the wham-banging sex they have later on

It was three such of their councillor-nuns who now entered the chamber. They were dressed in an unprepossessing manner, after a fashion that Mara had imagined of them as nuns, in long loose robes whose perfect black was tarnished only at the hem with a fringe of ochre left by the dust of recent travel. Their faces and their heads were uncovered, and their hair trimmed in identical style, short to about an inch in length except for a few wiry curls at the temples and behind the ears, the rest groomed with some sort of fixing oil that held it close and slick against the skull. The color of their hair was also identical, a rich silvery gray that Mara could only distinguish as the result of a dye because she had read of this custom in the accounts of her ethnographers. Those ethnographers had not been able to say anything about the significance of the practice, but due to the manner in which it mimicked so perfectly the wiry sheen of early old age, its effect was to make the three women appear at first appraisal to be older than they were. It was only upon examining their faces that Mara discerned that they were unlikely to be any older than her own thirty-five years. And one of them, the smallest and the last to enter, was considerably younger than that. Her skin was tanned and spotted with fine sun-browned freckles, but it was smooth and soft, still bare of the lines or the toughness of a woman who had spent a longer lifetime under the sun.

May 27, 2025 at 4:20 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

I have sooo many unfinisheds, but this is the unfinishedest I guess. Just a two-and-a-bit-paragraph flurry of raunch from years ago.

#nsfw

Last night I had a... you know, a *nocturnal emission*. Or it was this morning really. It was just before I woke up. Or well, strictly I guess it was just after I woke up. You know that sort of liminal state, where you're still not totally awake but you've at least realized you're asleep? It was at that moment. More or less. I properly woke up and opened my eyes once I was past the point of no return, when the first throb was already slowly creeping up my cock (and kind of agonizingly slowly I have to say) you know the way it does, before it erupts. Maybe I might have been able to haul myself back from the brink right then, if I'd acted quickly. But give a girl a break. I'd only just woken up. And I also really, really wanted to cum.

My family is very old-school. Like a lot of the noble houses, I guess. They are officially Defenders of the Elven Faith. And that means no cumming. The elven faith is big on self-control. For a lot of things. But mainly for cumming. The nighttime ones are almost the only chance I get now. Since my mom got Aunt Zhivi in as my chaperone. It used to be that I could still stroke myself at night (oh gods how I miss that!), but recently I got caught. And now Aunt Zhivi ties my hands to the bedposts. And then when I learned how to bring myself off by rocking my hips to rub myself quietly against the bedcover, Aunt Zhivi got rid of the bedcover too. So now all I can hope for is to get lucky in my sleep.

You know what's kind of funny? In a funny-but-actually-sad sort of a way I mean. *I don't even dream of actual S E X any more.* I actually just dream about touching myself. Gods, I remember sometimes I used to dream of

May 20, 2025 at 8:15 PM

pickleherring

@pickleherring.bsky.social

Tracing is a crutch that helps him through an aspect of the creative process he enjoys less (the faithful translation of proportions), allowing him to spend more of his energies on an aspect he enjoys more (the 'enfleshment' of detail).