south_park_kink_meme | South Park Kink Meme

South Park Kink Meme

This is a kink meme for South Park. It's fun and easy!

People comment anonymously with their prompts. Then, others write fic or make art based on the prompts and post their creations in response to the original prompt comment below!

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Temp Note 7/30/22: I've had to turn on comment screening because of spamming, but prompts have been great otherwise, so keep 'em coming if you got 'em. Comment screening just means I have to hit a button for them to appear. Please see the FAQ post if you have any questions!

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[1/2, noncon]

“Tweek.” Tweek's gaze snaps to the alleged holy man before him, and then he rolls his eyes away. “You don't seem very concerned about eternal damnation.”

Tweek snorts. He is not in fact very concerned about eternal damnation. He is eighteen years old and this fucking dork talking down to him in his nasal, lisping monotone with his stupid blue earflap hat can fuck right off.

“We’re trying to save your soul here. Don’t you care about that at all?”

What kind of pastor wears a stupid hat like that with his cassock anyway? The guy can’t be more than twenty-five and Tweek is supposed to believe he can save his soul? Right— who the hell is going to be saved by a Father Craig?

“If you don’t care about your own salvation,” Craig continues, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice as Tweek merely smirks and picks at his fingers, “you could at least stop being a corrupting influence on the other souls I’m trying to save in this program.”

“Mnnh, can you give me an example of how I've corrupted other souls, Father?” Tweek says with a coy smile, fiddling with the O-ring on his bondage collar. He doesn’t miss Craig’s eyes drifting to his neck, visibly swallowing at the sight, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“I just caught you sucking off Tommy— Thomas— in the rectory. One of our troubled teens who’s actually willing to be saved.” His irritation has escalated into exasperation. His temper is the most intriguing thing about him. Tweek would like to play with it, while he's stuck here anyway.

“He’s willing all right,” he mutters under his breath.

“What did you say?” Tweek smiles, feeling a giddy, juvenile rush at having pushed Craig into incensed territory.

“Hnngh, so Tommy’s your favorite, huh?” he rasps. “That’s okay; he’s my favorite, too.”

Craig’s cheeks flush and his jaw clenches ever so slightly. His brow crinkles when Tweek pulls a cigarette out of his breast pocket and lights it, taking a long drag.

“Agh, if you’re worried I might defile him, don’t be.” The furrow in the man’s brow straightens out. Excellent. “Took care of that week one.”

Craig leans over and plucks the lit cigarette out of Tweek’s mouth and deposits it in his open Styrofoam cup of coffee. It already tasted like garbage, but still, rude.

“I was drinking that, asshole!”

“Don’t fucking swear in here!”

Tweek’s eyebrows rise skywards in shock, but then he bursts out laughing.

Craig shoots up out of his seat and, before Tweek can bolt or twist away, manages to hoist him up out of his seat from under his armpits and brace his hands together behind Tweek’s head in a full nelson hold. Tweek shouts and curses as his arms and upper body are immobilized, twisted backwards, but it’s no use; his legs kick uselessly a foot off that ground as Craig holds him flush against his chest.

“Grhgh, don’t fucking touch me, man!”

Tweek fights to free himself from the pastor’s grasp but he’s too strong. Tweek isn’t very strong. He’s probably anemic, and the only exercise he partakes in is incidental during his primary activities of stealing and fucking.

Craig drags Tweek over in front of his full-length mirror— an oddity in his otherwise ascetic office. “Ergh, let go!” Tweek shouts, still trying in vain to kick his way free.

“Look at yourself. Take a good fucking look, Tweek— do you like this guy? Do you think he’s cool?”

Tweek’s not going to look, but then Craig jerks his body from under his armpits and he catches sight of himself when he looks up to glare. He does look fucking stupid. His facial piercings make him stick out in this nowhere town. The black circle lenses he swiped from that mall kiosk make him look like an anime demon. He can see that it’s a bit much.

It’s a costume, his silly armor against the world that’s already decided he’s no good. A very inefficient defense mechanism seeing as he’s the first to be rounded up anytime anything goes missing.

“No," he murmurs.

It's a stupid question, anyway. He doesn’t have to be cool to know Craig’s a dork. To know all his talk of salvation is just words. Not even pretty words because he sucks at this.

“Let go of me," Tweek hisses. Craig's point that he’s a poser brat is well taken, but that doesn't mean Tweek has any obligation to stay here and be judged by a guy who's probably breaking some church dork oath by physically restraining him like this.

And yet Craig only holds him tighter the more Tweek grunts and struggles. Eventually he manages to slip out of his hold by extending his arms straight up and sliding down his chest. But then Craig gets him in a sort of chokehold, his hairy forearm pressing tightly into his collar.

Tweek gasps, struggling to get enough oxygen in, and thrashes back against his body, and that's when he feels it pressed against his ass. The pastor is hard. Instinctively he laughs at the absurdity of the situation.

“Is this why you called me back here, man? Huh? To steal my innocence?” Tweek purrs, swiveling his hips back against the pastor’s pelvis. God, he is not small.

“You’re not exactly fucking innocent, are you now, Tweek,” Craig hisses.

Tweek rubs his ass up and down, dragging denim against denim, moaning in an exaggerated way to get a rise out of him. Beyond the performance, though, there’s something exciting about the act itself. This man is not allowed intimate contact like this, and yet he’s doing nothing to stop Tweek from grinding back onto his big, clothed cock.

Tweek knows he hasn't "corrupted" anyone's soul with sex, but the fact that this guy seems to think that way makes it feel taboo. And Tweek certainly has no issue transgressing, but Craig does, and that's just too delicious an opportunity to pass up right now.

“You’re, ah, not supposed to touch me like this, Father. I’m just an innocent boy. Nnnh, an untouched virgin—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Craig hisses, swiveling them both around, slamming Tweek face down onto his desk. His head spins at the impact. This isn’t going how he'd planned. Books and knickknacks clatter to the floor, and then Craig leaves him there, frozen and stunned, and turns around to lock the door to his office. When he turns back around, the look on his face makes Tweek swallow dryly.

“That's enough. Head down. Undo your fucking pants,” he orders coolly.

Tweek’s cock throbs at the order, but he’s legitimately freaked out and can’t move a muscle. Craig has locked the door to his office, he’s swearing at him, and now he wants Tweek’s pants down. He could do anything to him. Tweek has no idea what he’s capable of.

His heart is racing as he stutters out, “N-no!”

He curses himself for sounding so weak, but Craig is taking this too far. Tweek was just playing pretend. He must know that and he’s going to stop. He’s just trying to scare Tweek. Right?

Craig snarls and advances upon Tweek, bending him over forcibly, positioning his legs on the inside of Tweek’s to keep his stance wide. He leans over him and reaches beneath Tweek’s body to undo his loose black jeans and tug them down, letting them fall around his ankles. He pulls his boxers down next and Tweek shudders and whispers, “Don’t,” equal parts aroused and terrified.

“Should’ve been fucking good,” Craig hisses back in his ear, yanking Tweek’s T-shirt off over his head. All Tweek has left on is a black mesh long sleeved shirt and his bondage collar. “Should’ve listened. I’m trying to fucking save you, asshole.”

His fingers dig into the flesh of Tweek’s ass and he spreads his cheeks apart. Tweek moans pathetically when Craig forcefully grinds his clothed, erect cock against his naked ass. “Bad boys get punished and you’re the worst I’ve ever seen. Gonna punish you til you cry, you little shit.”

Tweek’s hardening cock is wedged between his tensing stomach muscles and the hard wood of Craig’s desk. He’s trembling in apprehension when Craig grips the neckline of his only remaining garment of clothing and rips it violently.

The mesh tears easily and Craig yanks the remnants of the shirt off Tweek's arms. Now he’s entirely naked but for his bondage collar having lost his creepers at some point during the struggle, while the pastor is still fully clothed. He has no power here.

“Head down, arch your back,” Craig commands. Seeing no other possible option, Tweek lets out a small dry sob and complies, extending his arms overhead to grip the edge of the desk and lay his head between them. He arches his spine, ass popping out. “Yeah, that’s good.” Craig sounds like he’s getting off on this— on the commands and Tweek’s compliance. Maybe even on Tweek's body itself, though he can't imagine why.

He pulls himself off of Tweek and shoves his head down into the desk. “Stay,” he commands, like Tweek is a naughty dog. Tweek does stay, doesn’t lift his head to see what Craig is up to even though he can hear him moving behind him. After a few moments of mounting uncertainty, Craig snaps his palm forward against Tweek’s exposed ass cheeks, and Tweek cries sharply.

The sting makes the flesh of his ass smart and his eyes water, but the aftershocks of the pain linger pleasantly. As the pain subsides, his cock strains at the thought of more.

Just when it's turned into a dull ache, Craig strikes him again, then again. Suddenly there is no more reprieve, no waiting for the pain to fade. By the fifth harsh thwack, tears flow freely from Tweek’s eyes and his cock throbs heavy and hard. By the tenth, each blow makes him shriek out with sensitivity. By the fifteenth, Craig’s wrapped his other hand around Tweek’s mouth to muffle his screams.

Then he stops and wrenches Tweek’s head back by the throat. He nestles his face into Tweek's hair, almost affectionately, and hums, “Keep your whore mouth shut,” and Tweek has to bite his lip to stifle a soft moan.

With one large hand still on his throat, Craig pets his way down the length of Tweek’s torso with the other til he reaches his cock. He laughs under his breath when he feels how erect he’s become. Tweek gasps when Craig grips him hard. He strokes him up and down, swiping his thumb over the head, and scoffs to find him wet and dripping already.

“Can’t believe you fucking like this.” His tone is biting but Tweek can tell Craig is enjoying this himself. He’s too dazed and scared to point that out.

Releasing his dick, Craig pushes him back down onto the desk head first. Tweek catches himself by the forearms this time so he doesn’t hit his head. Behind him he hears a sucking sound and chokes on a panicked breath.

“Shh,” Craig says, giving his tender ass a nearly affectionate little swat. Tweek whimpers at the pain anyway. “This is for your own good.”

And then a wet finger plunges inside his ass. Tweek wails at how fast this is all going, at being penetrated, at the shock of the whole thing. He hadn't been ready. But it doesn't matter now because Craig is fucking him in earnest with his finger, even as he cries and his hole clamps down in an attempt to stop the intrusion.

"Stop trying to push me out. I'm not going anywhere," Craig murmurs softly, and Tweek sobs. He doesn't go anywhere, but he does pump lotion onto his fingers on the next withdrawal, and then a second finger joins the first. He groans at the sudden stretch. This is really happening; this pastor is actually fingerfucking Tweek on his desk.

Tweek's making an effort to relax his muscles. It’s clear his clenching up is only hurting him and not hindering the pastor in any way. But he spasms around him and wails when Craig hits that spot inside him that Tommy hadn’t been able to reach with his short fingers.

It’s different from any pleasure he’s ever felt. The pastor does not indulge it long. He pulls back and keeps fucking him on his fingers, letting his fingers drag along that spot just enough to keep Tweek moaning and pushing back onto them.

Soon he’s getting close, body shaking and hips grinding down on Craig’s finger, when Craig decides, “You’re enjoying this too much,” and pulls both fingers from Tweek’s body.

His whole body quakes and he cries at the injustice of having been denied release. “Please, Craig,” he whines.

“Begging for it. I’m punishing you, dumbass. You’re not supposed to like it.”

You’re loving this, you want me to enjoy my punishment.

Tweek can’t say it aloud. He doesn’t know how much this might escalate, how rough Craig can get. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about his vow of celibacy and it’s clear he’s way more experienced than Tweek.

“I don’t have a plug to keep you open. You’re going to be your own plug.”

“Huh?” Tweek asks, confused. What the fuck does that mean?

Craig grabs his right hand and deposits some lotion onto his forefinger and middle finger, pumping up and down to slick them up. Then he wrenches Tweek’s arm behind him and positions those fingers at his hole.

Even though he’s been present every step of the way, it’s like Tweek’s in a dumb haze. He doesn’t realize what’s happening until Craig starts pushing Tweek’s fingers inside his body. Tweek cries sharply as they breach his entrance.

“That’s it. Keep yourself nice and open for my cock. So you can get your punishment.”
Tweek wails and his hole tenses and clenches around the encroaching fingers, his own fingers. It feels wrong, dirty, using himself when he doesn’t even want to.

Craig jams his fingers the rest of the way inside him by the wrist and scoffs when Tweek cries out sharply.

“Don’t complain. I'm trying to be nice. I could punish you after you’re all closed up. That’d hurt way more. Is that what you want?”

Tweek sniffles and nods, tears running down his face. It’s humiliating having to keep himself open and ready like this. To be taken later by this man who won’t stop saying cruel, degrading things that make Tweek cry and his cock throb.

“You want me to hurt you with my cock? You want it to hurt?”

“Ngh,” Tweek groans, nodding once again.

“You need this punishment so bad. To purify your filthy soul.”

Tweek murmurs in agreement. That sounds good. Purification. Not having to keep his asshole open wide, waiting for the pastor. “Need it,” he whines.

"Yeah," Craig breathes out. “Get my cock ready then. If you can’t keep yourself open for me. Get it nice and wet.”

AAAAAHGJFKFKFKDKDLDKDKDLK

Loosely translated: Yes, yes, yesssssssssssssss, this is everything I wanted already and is that a promise for a second part I see!?!?! 👀👀💗💗💗

OOOOOOOHHH 👀 Omg i...
I!!!
jsjdhdhdjdjdjdjw
(also, tommy's short finger... babe)

yes, it's up! sorry about the delay

[2/2, still p noncon, u kno how it is]

This Tweek can do. Maybe he can get him to come down his throat and then he won’t have to be spread apart like that again. He drops to his knees before Craig and runs his fingers up his thighs.

His fingers tremble but through sheer determination, he’s able to get the pastor’s belt and jeans undone. Without the belt holding them up, the jeans slide down easily. Underneath the pastor is wearing simple black briefs. Shakily Tweek lowers these too and can’t help but utter an “oh, God,” at the sight.

He needs a moment to just stare dumbly. It’s fucking huge. When Tweek looks up at Craig, he smirks back down at him.

“What’s the matter, my child?” His tone drips with sadistic glee. “Nothing to say?”

Tweek doesn't have any words, but he's not defeated. This is his area of expertise. He’s not intimidated for the sake of his throat. This isn't the first time someone’s slapped his cheek with their cock, nor the first time someone’s thrust down his throat right off the bat. He doesn’t even flinch, let alone gag.

Once he’s fully engulfed in the depths of Tweek’s throat, Tweek looks up at the pastor and moans desperately. He sucks him even deeper, so that his nose presses into his pubic bone, and continues putting on a show of his delighted moans.

“You fucking—” Tweek cuts him by jamming his tongue into the juncture between his balls. He swallows around his cock over and over and sucks one into his mouth. Craig exhales sharply and his stomach muscles tense up. Tweek runs his fingers up Craig's abdomen, up his coarse stomach hair and flinching muscles, urging him to relax, but then releases him, takes the other in his mouth instead. He knows how to get him to come fast. Tweek's got this.

He begins fucking his own throat on Craig's cock, whining in delight at the burn, at the way Craig can't suppress his groans. The pastor's legs start to buckle and he drags Tweek by the hair to the chair he'd torn Tweek from earlier. He sits and starts fucking Tweek's face in earnest as Tweek moans and makes debauched sounds around his cock. He kneads Craig's balls with one hand and touches his own cock with the other, looking up at Craig with his widest, most innocent eyes. Craig can barely keep his eyes open. Tweek might just be saved.

He's close, so close, and then— "That's— that's enough." Craig pulls him off his cock roughly by the hair. He's panting so heavily. Tweek almost had him, he knows he did. His disappointment must read on his face. Even through his labored breaths, Craig laughs as he looks down at Tweek, strokes his hair like a beloved naughty pet, and coos, "Oh, did you think I'd forget about your punishment?"

Craig lifts him by the waist and pulls him down in his lap, facing him. This is way too fucking intimate. Tweek kept thinking he could get out of it, or at worst that it would be from behind, humiliating but impersonal. Instead he's on his knees straddling Craig's lap in this chair. When Craig strokes his sides, he realizes he's trembling.

“Come on. Ride my cock," Craig urges, nuzzling into his cheek. "See how much you can take.”

Tweek is frozen, but when the pastor slaps his sore ass, he yelps and springs to action. He grips that big cock at the base, sniveling pathetically, and positions himself over it, tip barely grazing his entrance. Steadying himself with one hand on the back of the chair, he begins lowering himself down upon it. The stretch is way too much at once, and he tenses up and cries out.

“Slow down, you greedy whore. Obviously you can’t take it,” Craig spits out through gritted teeth. “You dumb fucking slut.” Tweek cries at the insults as much as the pain. And it really stings.

“Breathe and push out against me. Don’t even know how to take a cock. Is there anything you're good at?” His hips pulse up, eliciting pathetic little whimpers from Tweek.

“Sucking dick, obviously,” Tweek grits out, trying to relax for Craig's cock. As he exhales, he lowers himself down a little more and winces.

“A party trick. Good for you. You'd be a terrible whore." Tweek bites his lip and cries out when Craig grabs him roughly by the hips and shoves himself up inside him.

“Is that who you practice on? Do you hurt them like this too?" It should be a trump card, pointing out that Craig should not know how to do all these things, but he just sounds pathetic, admitting it hurts, voice all high-pitched and whiny and quavering.

"You begged me, Tweek. You wanted me to hurt you so bad. Isn't that sick? How fucked up are you? What'd they do to you? Why won't you open up?"

If he could laugh, he would, because as Craig scolds him for not being able to open up, he presses his cock further inside and pulls Tweek down by the hips. Tweek is open, so open it feels like he'll never be able to close up again.

“Look at yourself. Watch when I’m punishing you. Look how pathetic and small you are. Look how big I am,” Craig grits out as he thrusts up deeper inside Tweek's body.

Tweek cries as Craig shifts the two of them in his chair and tilts his head to the side by the chin so Tweek has to watch Craig’s big cock disappear inside his ass in the mirror. It really is massive. It shouldn't be able to fit inside him. Craig reaches back to spread his cheeks so he can see more of it.

He stares entranced, moaning involuntarily as Craig continues bucking up into him. He's spreading him so wide, hitting him so deep. He can already feel him low in his guts and doesn’t need to look to know he’s still got a ways to go. He’s not anywhere close to sitting in his lap, ass nowhere near pressed flush against Craig’s thighs.

Even so, Craig starts drawing his hips back, pulling his dick out til only the very tip of him remains, almost letting Tweek’s hole flinch closed after him. Then he slams back in, stretching him open again, hitting deeper each time. Tweek cries sharply each time he fucks his way in, and gasps each time he wrenches his cock out of him.

"You're gonna— you're gonna take it all," Craig hisses, and he slams the rest of the way in. Tweek falls forward and clutches at Craig's upper back. His scream comes delayed, like he's in shock. He places a hand on his lower belly. He can feel Craig in there and his hole spasms around the immense girth of the base of Craig's cock, stretching him wider than he ever thought possible. His toes curl against each other between Craig's thighs.

Resting his forehead on Craig's shoulder, Tweek looks back at their reflection again. He stares at Craig’s face in the mirror, the blush high on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his gaze and focus solely on filling Tweek’s ass. Craig’s only concern right now is him, his punishment for being so bad. As he quivers around him, spread to his absolute limit, Tweek’s never felt so loved.

He turns back around and looks up into Craig’s eyes. Through whines, he manages to get out, “Please, Craig, punish me. Hnngh, make me good, I wanna be good for you.” Craig’s eyes widen and he pants as he continues his onslaught. He has no defenses at the ready when Tweek wraps his arms around the back of his head and pull him down for a kiss.

Tweek moans into his mouth as he keeps bucking up inside him, the pace growing more frenzied until Craig scoops him up by the ass and slams him down on the desk.

Tweek cries at the loss of Craig's cock inside him. "In me, put it back in me, Craig, augh— I need it," he begs.

Craig positions himself at Tweek's quivering entrance and stabs his way back inside. "Doesn't hurt anymore?" he asks, bending over to suck and chew on one of Tweek's nipples as he fucks him with wild abandon. The desk slams against the back wall with each punishing thrust.

"Hurts," Tweek chokes out through the blinding, blissful pain of the rough anal and the torturous nipple play. "Please, I need it!"

“Touch yourself, jerk yourself off for me,” Craig grits out.

Tweek attempts to focus his eyes. “Agh, can’t— I’ll, I'll come,” he whines.

Craig spanks his ass suddenly and Tweek moans and clenches down on his cock in response, pre-cum spurting out of his own cockhead. Craig grunts, his hips stuttering erratically as he fights to keep up his brutal pace. It feels too good; Tweek doesn't want it to end.

“Do what I say,” he growls. “Come for me. Come on my cock.”

Then Craig presses his hand flat onto Tweek’s lower abdomen and starts ramming him as hard as he possibly. He can feel Craig on either side— his cock frantically pounding up into his guts and his hand on the outside of Tweek's belly, feeling the large imposition of him slamming in and out.

It shouldn’t even be possible— to be stretched so far, fucked so deep— let alone feel this good. It’s transcendent. Tweek has left this earthly realm. He’s screaming himself hoarse and he feels like he could die at any moment. He could dangle on this precipice forever, but he doesn't want to disappoint Craig, not now.

By the time he manages to wrap a shaky hand around his cock, his whole body is buzzing with electric pleasure. It's obvious it's going to be a ruinous orgasm, one he'll hereafter forever chase. As he strokes himself, his body tenses up all over and Craig curses, trying to keep fucking him through the spastic clamping of his ass. The tension inside Tweek snaps suddenly and he comes screaming; the waves hit him violently, ringing in his head and throughout his whole body, robbing him of his senses for what feels like a full minute.

As he rides the aftershocks, Craig thrusts in as deep as he'll go and starts filling Tweek's oversensitive ass up with his hot cum. Tweek's orgasmic spasms practically wring Craig's cock of it. He's delirious but he delights in Craig's needy groans, his loss of control, his hot breath in the crook of Tweek's neck.

They lie there panting together in the aftermath, Craig draped bonelessly atop Tweek's body. He's too hot and too heavy but Tweek isn't lucid enough to say anything about it.

Suddenly a pounding comes at the door and Craig jolts on top of Tweek.

“Father Craig? This is Father Maxi. My office, now.”

Tweek is abruptly light and cool again. The last thing he hears before he drifts into unconsciousness is a soft, nasal, "Fuck."

That was hot, hehe

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

South Park Kink Meme

Re: Craig/Tweek, punishment kink (spanking, fingering, facefucking, the whole nine yards)

Re: Craig/Tweek, punishment kink (spanking, fingering, facefucking, the whole nine yards)

Re: Craig/Tweek, punishment kink (spanking, fingering, facefucking, the whole nine yards)

Re: Craig/Tweek, punishment kink (spanking, fingering, facefucking, the whole nine yards)

Re: Craig/Tweek, punishment kink (spanking, fingering, facefucking, the whole nine yards)

Re: Craig/Tweek, punishment kink (spanking, fingering, facefucking, the whole nine yards)