Arina-Artemis @arina_artemis@awoo.space

This enbie can fantasize about bad habits. As a treat.

I'm hiding in your fields and forest glades, stinking up the air with my pheromones. And/or furry moans.

I'd say I'm sorry but that would be a lie.

"Are you a boy or a girl?"
"I'm a satyr!"
"No, what's your sex?"
"Enthusiastic consent!"
"I mean, what's in your pants?"
"I HAVE NO PANTS!"

Wanna be a lewd critter.

Wanna have an udder, and both cock(s) and pussy(ies)†, and a twitching tail, and animal noises. And look entirely non-human, even if in subtle ways like too big eyes or big nose. Weird pupils are also cool.

† TBH I found multi-pussy logistics to be both fascinating and overly complex. If each leads to its own womb

What if a powerful, sexy, otherworldly monster hit me with a devolution+monsterification serum, turning me into their dumb brute ape henchperson?

Thinking about equine heat.
Sometimes one just needs to have a big dark puffy leaky musky mare/jennett pussy.
Nestled high between their buttocks, always on display and readily accessible.

(It's me, I'm the one)

Yesterday someone compared me to Puck and now I'm having transformation'ey mischief moods.

Turning naughty children into donkeys: vaguely pedophilic, actually abusive, generally eww.
Turning naughty adults into donkeys: great kink space, amazing avenue for fixing injustices, generally great.

A gaggle of my sonas coming out of several doors.

"It is horny that created us."
"Horny that connects us."
"Horny that pulls us."
"That guides us."
"That drive us."
"It is horny that defines us."
"Horny that binds us."

"We're here because of you Arina. We're here to give you what you tried to give us."

"A DAMN GOOD DICKING"

We've got:

• Strange potions
• Weird "science" growth+devolution ray
• Good ole "90s radiation"
• Essence of the 7 Sins
• Magical shackles and harnesses
• And many more!

All the great ways to turn you into a hulking beastial brute that you deserve to be.

Turns you into a ratty shortstack femboy with MASSIVE nuts

Subby beastial mood: not being allowed decisions. Not being trusted to handled decisions anymore. Always collared, harnessed, leashed, trussed. Locked up in your cage or stall or kennel for the night.

This thought brought you comfort. You were still you, just an animal. Not as intellectually gifted as usual, sure, but that wasn't really important. Not when you had your witchy friends spoiling you and other critters to have fun and play with.

And yet, despite it, you never felt like you lost yourself. You were still you. Shy when it came to new acquaintances, but affectionate and talkative when you opened up. Respective of the rules but curious and inquisitive. And, truth be told, more than a little lazy — one of the reasons you ended up on a farm in the first place.