Shadowheart and a Pumpkin (Patreon)

Shadowheart has the fortress all to herself, with no one around to judge her for what she might get up to during her more intimate moments. No one but us, the approving and cheering audience. "YOU can DOOO eeet Shadowheart!".

It's been a few weeks since she hired Elminster to cast Tenser's Transformation on her, but she's been a bit too busy adventuring to really gauge how much pleasure she can derive from having a c0ck. She likes how it feels in her hand, how it throbs when she grips it tightly, how rapidly it expands when she feeds it affection, how it pulses when she gets off, not to mention the impressive trajectory of her 0rg@smic emissions.

Shadowheart isn't the most flexible character in the Forgotten Realms, but her shaft is plenty long enough to reach, not just her lips but the back of her throat, theoretically at least. She'd like to try a few things out first, before granting herself the ultimate auto-er0tic experience.

Lae'zel's been away on campaign for a few days now. Shadowheart misses her so much, but at the moment, she has immediate needs that cannot wait for her lover's return. She has beauty and skill enough to at least take the edge off for now.

Pacing back and forth across the courtyard in comfortably stirruped almost bare feet, Shadowheart almost trips over a pumpkin she had picked from her garden a few days back. She had originally started to carve a face into it, realizing that her world's equivalent of Halloween ended the prior week. Now she's left with just a single hole in this pumpkin.....a perfectly sized hole.  Perhaps, subconsciously, this had been her intention all along, knowing she would have time for herself today, and attend to herself, she absolutely will.

She casts a minor version of Immolate upon the gourd, softening it to a perfect consistency for her intentions.  She takes a moment to admire her handiwork and spell-craft before laying it upon her bed. She unsheathes herself, already completely er3ct in anticipation of what is about to transpire. She angles herself up to her sorry excuse for a jack-o-lantern and presses only her tip past the inner edge of the pulp. "A little tight perhaps..." she thought "but lets see if I can loosen her up.".

Shadowheart gyrates her hips rhythmically, working her way deeper and deeper into the flesh of her soft, orange mass. We see the transition of her dry shaft into a glistening wet c0ck, now covered in oozing orange liquefied pulp.

Now on her back, Shadowheart holds her pumpkin in place with her almost impossibly beautiful feet and goes to town to the point of edging herself, and beyond. It wasn't supposed to go this far, but she's now poised to fill every gap and crevasse of this fruit with white-hot futacum.   She wants to be n@ked for it and has just enough time to try out one more position.