Female Imps Novels & Stories

The message read: "Hey J, it's Kayla. I miss you, but I need more. I've found something that really turns me on. I want you to be a part of it." Curious and concerned, I called her immediately. She answered, her voice breathy and excited. "J, I'm so glad you called. I've been exploring my sexuality, and I've discovered this amazing fetish. It's called impregnation, and it's everything I've ever wanted." I was shocked. "What do you mean? You want to get pregnant?" "Oh, J, you have no idea. I want to be filled with cum, over and over again. I want to be used and dominated by big, strong men. And I want you to watch it all happen."

The anticipation built as they waited, the air thick with the promise of more. Later that afternoon, the penthouse's doorbell chimed, pulling Zeke's attention from the relaxed haze of the morning. He glanced at Damien, who was lounging on the sofa with Eli, and headed to the door. Opening it, he was greeted by Imelda, his old companion, an intersex woman from that fateful night years ago—the one who had shared Eli with him at the club, her strong, less feminine features and confident stride making her impossible to forget. On her arm was Tamar, a woman who looked around Damien's age, with soft curves and a playful smile that suggested she was no stranger to Imelda's world. Damien had joined

I guess she realized that it was the only thing we could do, so she nodded. I noticed a small group of monsters, about four feet in height. "I guess we could start there," I said and pointed at the Demonic Imps. "They look doable," she said and tightly held an invisible sword, at least in my perspective. I sneaked behind one Imp and hugged it tight… the skin was obviously rough, and it smelled like sewage. "Stab it!" I screamed. It tried to escape, squirming but I only hugged it tightly. "Ellie, stab it now…"

I hear her whisper the rest of the thought in my head and reflect it to her, “...because that means you aren't good enough for him.” The complete thought forces a keening howl from her throat. Her pained cry steals my breath away and my heart aches for her. “Imprints are not just about lust and making werebabies!” If spoken aloud, Aline’s decibel level would shatter glass. “It can't be! That's sick! Look at Tony and his middle school imprint. It's like he's grooming a little girl to be his babymama. That's just fucking disgusting!”