#Another guy who fetishizes submissiveness

[coochiequeens]

He killed a literal baby. And now he wants to sue the state for damages?!

By Anna Slatz February 14, 2024

A trans-identified male currently serving a 55-year sentence for the murder of his infant stepdaughter has launched a lawsuit against the Chaplain at his prison after he was allegedly denied a hijab despite identifying as a Muslim woman. Autumn Cordellioné, previously known as Jonathan C. Richardson, is seeking $150,000 in damages.

As previously reported by Reduxx, Cordellioné was first arrested in 2001 after his 11-month-old stepdaughter died in his care while her mother was at work. The night of the infant’s death, Cordellioné had been visited by friends who later told police that he had been “acting strangely.”

Despite claiming the little girl was inside sleeping, Cordellioné had loud music playing in the home, and his guests noted that he appeared to have a fresh, bleeding tattoo of the child’s name carved into his arm.

Autumn Cordellioné as of August 2023. Photo Courtesy: Indiana Department of Corrections.

Later that night, after his friends left, Cordellioné went to his neighbor and asked him to call 911, claiming the child was unresponsive. When emergency personnel arrived, they were briefly able to resuscitate the girl, but she died shortly after being rushed to the hospital. 

Cordellioné was interviewed by police, who noted he was “calm and unemotional” during questioning, and his story about what happened to the baby changed dramatically over the course of the two interviews conducted.

At first, Cordellioné claimed he found the baby unresponsive after doing some household chores. But in the next interview, Cordellioné said the child was being “fussier than usual” and he attempted to throw her up in the air repeatedly in an effort to calm her down. He said her “head bopped forward and back up in a rough type of a manner,” and that the child continued to cry so he proceeded to shake her aggressively in an effort to calm her down.

During a failed appeals hearing, detectives from the case recounted how Cordellioné “physically showed” how he had manhandled the girl, getting up out of his chair and demonstrating the action in a rough manner.

An autopsy subsequently found that the baby had died of asphyxiation by manual strangulation. Cordellioné was booked awaiting a court hearing, and would later tell a prison official “all I know is I killed the little fucking bitch.”

Cordellioné was found guilty and sentenced to 55 years in prison for the horrific crime. He is currently incarcerated at the Branchville Correctional Facility, an institution for male offenders.

Last August, Cordellioné joined forces with the American Civil Liberties Union to sue the Indiana Department of Corrections, citing “discrimination” on the basis of his gender identity. That case is currently in progress.

But Reduxx has now learned that that Cordellioné has also launched a separate suit against the prison’s Chaplain, Tony Gray. Gray has been a Chaplain at the facility since 2014, and volunteered at the institution prior to being offered an official role.

Branchville Chaplain Tony Gray. Photo Source: Indiana Department of Corrections

In the lawsuit, filed on November 3, 2023, Cordellioné accuses Gray of violating his First, Eighth, and Fourteenth Amendment constitutional rights.

According to court records obtained by Reduxx, the incident of complaint took place in May of 2023 after Gray informed Cordellioné that he was not allowed to don a hijab outside of his cell. In response, Cordellioné said: “I wear the hijab in order to cover my head and ears for modesty purposes, as I am an Islamic practicing transwoman.”

At the time, Cordellioné’s registered religion was “Wiccan” and Gray pointed that out, to which Cordellioné replied that he was an “eclectic practitioner who is a member of the Theosophical Society in America.”

The Theosophical Society is headquartered in Chennai, India, and is considered an “esoteric new religious movement.” Founded in 1875, it describes itself as a “unsectarian body of seekers after Truth,” and its practitioners appear to dabble in the philosophy and beliefs of multiple religions simultaneously. One of its founders is Russian mystic Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, who stated in 1889 that “the purpose of establishing the Society was to prepare humanity for the reception of a World Teacher.”

Cordellioné is claiming that his equal protection rights were violated when he was barred from wearing a hijab outside of his cell, noting that male Muslims in the facility are allowed to wear kufis or taqiyah — a short, rounded brimless prayer cap.

“Islamic faith mandates the wearing of a kufi for males … Islamic faith also mandates females of the faith wear hijabs when outside the home and when not amongst men of their family. Tony Gray allows male Muslims to wear their sufis, but denies me, a transwoman, the same privilege.”

From the legal complaint filed by Cordellioné.

Cordellioné also alleges that Gray’s refusal to allow him to wear a hijab violated his eighth amendment rights against cruel and unusual punishment. In his argument, Cordellioné claims the he was subjected to “harassment and ridicule” by the Islamic community in his prison because he had not been allowed to wear a hijab.

“[Gray] should be aware, as Chaplain, the stigma and shame that is attributed to Islamic women when they go uncovered and without a hijab,” Cordellioné writes in his complaint. “Women are viewed as whores, tempters of men, and adulterators; by Islamic society both in and out of prison. I have been shunned, made a social pariah, and amongst my own religious community.”

He continues: “Without the support of the Islamic community, I will struggle and likely fail to achieve salvation for by [sic] Mohammed’s teachings a Muslim who knows of the teachings, yet strays from them, will never reach heaven.”

In his stated request for relief, Cordellioné is seeking the ability to wear his hijab in prison, as well as $150,000 in compensation.

Since filing, there has been some back-and-forth with the court surrounding Cordellioné’s financial situation, with the court requesting a nominal initial filing fee of $36.55, but Cordellioné claiming he does not have the money to pay it. If he cannot demonstrate deficiency in the time the court has specified, his case might be dismissed.

[tra1nchi]

Poly relationship with head over heels bottom subs,, one is a cute shy guy who loves m reader so fucking much he doesn't mind getting cucked and stuff as long as it pleases reader,, another one is a hot sexy model who's very proud of his body, always taking care of himself so you'll praise him when you fuck him, taking care of his hair well so you can easily pull them,,, kinky sub who's into wild plays, totally devoted to reader and would do literally anything like damn.. Another cold aloof kind of man,, people are intimidated by him and he's all strong and one man army stuff.. Yet when it comes to reader he's just a mess like damn,, all these pretty, smart, strong subbies also has reader's personal brand on his skin,,, they're so head over heels they do anything for reader's acknowledgement,,

Package deal,,MINORS DNI!! top male reader,,Poly,, Cuckholding,,brat taming,,praise,,Bj,,kinda short

A shy sub who isn't ready but he tries to take every dark fantasy you could ever want from him!! Fuck him in a public setting? He'll try!! It adds to the danger!! You want to fuck someone else infront of him? It turns him on so much,,of course he'd love that!! Begging you so sweetly to do whatever you want with him,,he's yours

A Cocky sub who asks like a total bitch to anyone else,,fighting you in the bedroom but the moment he gets some dick I side of him,, he's totally compliant!! Taking care of his hair so lovingly so you can easily pull at it for more control!! He just feeds off praise!! Praise him and he'll do anything for you!!

A Kinky sub who isn't shy to do anything strange kink of yours,,bullying you at first for every strange fetish you had but so noticeably turned on whenever you both go through with them!! Corrupting his mind to like every single fetish or kink you have!!

A intimating sub who really seems like the dominant,, he's taller then you with a resting bitch face,,but his frowning mouth always gets to be wrapped around your cock!! Sucking on it like a lifeline as his strong muscled body rests submissively under yours!!

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 | sub!robert fischer x dominatrix!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you're a professional dominatrix, he's a restless heir in desperate need of being put in his place; you both know what this is. it's just your job, it's just his fetish. no reason to make it more complicated than that, right?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), bdsm dynamics, reward/punishment, orgasm denial, overstimulation, oral f and m receiving, cnc (meaning he says no but it's not literal, there's a safeword in place for that), angst and fluff at the end, presumably inaccurate depictions of sex work and dominatrix-ing, robert cries. a lot.

You weren’t expecting much when you met him, just another rich boy with daddy issues and an Italian suit. 

And… yeah, you were pretty much exactly on the money.  The very literal money— Robert was already paying almost double what anybody else was, in order to have a monopoly on your time.  But, that said, he still managed to surprise you.

First of all, you were surprised how little experience he really had with this.  People tend to ease into paying thousands of dollars for an on-call professional dominatrix; but Robert had the money and impulsive personality necessary to start at the top.  It’s like getting a Lambo for your first car… which, to be fair, he had also done.  He admitted to you that he’d only had one or two experiences with dominant women and the lifestyle in general: he credited it partially to a need for discretion, that he couldn’t just go to a club with the risk of the wrong people recognizing him and his business being affected.  Though that was a fair reason, you knew he was leaving out his own anxiety as a significant factor as well.

Secondly, he surprised you with how well he understood his own needs and limits for someone with such little experience.  He explained to you, in rather shameless detail, that he was looking for someone to relinquish emotional control to— that he didn’t need to be really physically tortured, just to be psychologically tormented.  In that way, he was less ‘hardcore’ than many of your clients, who had physical damage to show for their time with you by the end of the session, but he was absolutely no wimp.  A crybaby, yes, but not a wimp; big difference.

And, perhaps least importantly, he surprised you by being young, and hot.  Not, you know, too young, and still older than you, but closer to your age than any of your other clients.  As for him being hot, well… yes, he was probably the best-looking of your clients.  ‘Probably’ being a polite word for ‘definitely’.  Ironically, for being so submissive, he had a somewhat intimidating visage: sharp features, bright and icy eyes, quite tall as well.  That was probably what most people saw first, but you were lucky to be able to appreciate completely how delicate he really was: with that pleading wet gaze, his thick bottom lip between his teeth, an unexpected softness to his masculine features.

You were surprised he needed to pay someone for this, looking like that, but then again, his kinks were a bit specific and his need for privacy was understandable.  Maybe what all that money really was, was just hush money.  After all, truth be told, you probably wouldn't mind doing the rest of it for free.

A friend of yours in the business warned you that that was a sign you needed to stop working for this guy.  If you’re catching feelings, get out now, she warned.  You tried to assure her it wasn’t feelings— just an acknowledgement that he was absurdly beautiful— but she didn’t seem to buy it; you yourself were starting to doubt that excuse.

But, here you were: usual place, usual time.  A lot of your clients preferred hotels, but Robert Fischer found the most discreet method was just to have you come to his penthouse; he had a few properties, but apparently this one was the most secluded.  The private elevator certainly gave off that impression.

He’d given you your own key to use, to take you to his place whenever you wanted.  Obviously, you only went there when you had an appointment… but you did get a little giddy every time you used it.  You got the impression that some small part of him hoped you’d use that key on your own time one day, but that could’ve been you projecting: you tried to remind yourself that he, like all the other clients, probably didn’t think of you much when you were gone.

It was hard to hold up that narrative just a few minutes later, though, as you stood in his bedroom with him on his knees in front of you.

“Missed you so much, Mistress,” he mumbled against your skin as he pressed his face to your thigh.  “I swear, I haven’t thought about anything else since last time— can we move up to four times a week?  Three isn’t enough anymore.”

He was a little more desperate than usual because, even with three sessions a week, this one had been delayed by two days because of his work.  Still, he couldn’t quite justify being this worked up when you’d seen him four days ago…  “Do you want to talk business, or do you want to play?” you asked him quickly.  “Scheduling is best done before or after—”

“Sorry, sorry,” he sighed, looking up at you through his lashes.  “Sorry, I just— we can talk about that later.  I need you so fucking bad— and you look so pretty…”

You dressed a bit differently for him.  Most of your clients wanted latex, leather, chains, studs— you know, the usual.  Robert told you from the start he preferred soft things, pretty things.  He’d asked if he could buy you things to wear but you insisted on simply billing him for whatever you picked out: anything else was giving him too much power over you.  Thankfully, he’d never had an issue with your tastes.  

He liked seeing you in relatively ‘normal’ clothes.  Little black dresses with lacy pantyhose, silk robes— he actually went a little feral seeing you in a pinstriped three-piece suit once, but that’s another story.  Today, you were keeping it classic with a black skirt and blazer, plus stockings with garter belts (his favorite) and your tallest, sharpest heels.  Clearly it had the intended effect, since you hadn’t even told him to get on his knees when you walked in…

“Get up,” you told him, and he scrambled onto his feet and gave you a look that barely hid how impatient he was feeling inside.  “Actually, I have some business to discuss with you.  Take a seat on the bed, why don’t you?”

He tilted his head a bit but did as he was told.  He hadn’t even seemed to notice the briefcase you brought— maybe his life was just so full of briefcases he’d learned to ignore them.  But you certainly had his attention when you set it down between you and opened the clasps— though you didn’t lift it to reveal its contents yet.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” you informed him flatly.  He seemed thrown off— like he couldn’t tell if this was part of the scene or not.  

“I-I’m sorry,” he said first, then adding, “what did I do wrong?  I’ve been so good…”

“I saw you in the papers.”

Reaching inside, you pulled out the newspaper picture of him, walking along the Manhattan streets with a young woman by his side.  She was taller than him with her heels on, overwhelmingly blonde, annoyingly pretty.  His eyes went wide at the sight.  “Oh—” he began,  but you cut him off.

“It’s not right for you to be seeing me when you have a girlfriend,” you explained, pausing before you set down a magazine snapshot of him with a different model, “or two.”

“N-no, wait, I can explain that,” he rushed, but you shoved the pictures aside and leaned forward, sneering at him.

“Is that what you are, huh?  Just a slut?” you snapped.  “Am I not enough for you?”

“No!  God, no— you’re everything,” he whined, “of course. Those are just—”

“Just what?  They seem like lovely young women, Mr. Fischer, you don’t need to insult them for my benefit.”

“Oh, don’t call me that,” he pouted, looking down— already his cheeks were getting redder.  “You’re really mad at me?  For being seen with them?”

You knew he was upset you weren’t calling him a pet name, the last thing he wanted to be when you were here was Mr. Fischer— he wanted to be your good boy, your baby, your puppy, your pet.  “I’m more concerned about what you did that nobody else saw, Robert,” you admitted.

The last thing you wanted to do was appear jealous— that was never what you would do, or at least, not your character.  But one of your rules for Robert was that he was required to be celibate outside of your sessions with him.  It was always about control— and he loved the humiliation of being reminded that you worked with other men and slept with whoever you wanted, but that he was doomed to only be yours.  He asked you to remind him all the time, whispering in his ear about how he belonged to you, that nobody but you could touch him, that he was just Mistress’ good boy.

“It’s not like that, I swear,” he whined, “they— it was just publicity.  For both of us— I mean, for the girls and for me.  It’s business!”

“Right,” you returned, not acting especially convinced.  One of those photos in the magazine was pretty deliberate— his arm around her waist, whispering something in her ear with a smirk.  It certainly didn’t seem like business.

“Please, Mistress, you know I’d never—”

“Do I?” you interrupted sharply.  “I mean, after you were so naughty last time—”

“I didn’t mean to come so fast, I was just—”

“How dare you speak over me?” you hissed, and he clamped his mouth shut as his shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry, ma’am…” he whispered with defeat.

“I’m starting to wonder, what’s stopping you from breaking any of the rules?  How do I know you’re really behaving?”

“Y-you know, because…!” he trailed off, eyes darting wildly as he looked for a response.  “Because you know how bad I need you.  How important you are to me.”

When your heart beat a little faster, you told yourself that he really meant how important these sessions are to me.  

Going back to what seemed like his default state, Robert dropped to the floor again, kneeling in front of where you had your legs crossed tensely.  Twice now he’d done that without you asking, but you weren’t going to correct him this time because, well… some men were just meant to be on their knees.  “I swear, I swear it wasn’t real, was all just for the pictures… I’d never break your rules, Mistress, I wanna be good for you.”

“Want to, yes,” you smirked, “but it takes a lot of willpower, when you could afford as many little playthings as your heart desires.”

You leaned back on your hands as he got more and more desperate, and you fought the urge to smile proudly seeing him panic a bit.  He knew that with your hands holding your weight, you wouldn’t be running your fingers through his hair or stroking his cheek… he was getting antsy, still not having been touched by you ten minutes into the session.  “Let me show you,” he pleaded, “I promise, I only want you— I-I’ve been waiting for this, for you to touch me again…”

Now, truthfully, you’d believed him when he said those girls were for show— for publicity, as he said.  But only now that he said it like that did you really believe how desperate he was.  Unfortunately for him, it just made you want to tease him more.  “Touch you?” you repeated, egging on his begging.

"Please, touch me," he whined, "please, I'll be so good… I need you, Mistress."

"I know you do, baby, but I don't think you've earned me yet."

“Yes, ma’am— I don’t deserve you,” he breathed.  “I know I don’t.”

He looked so sweet, so broken, looking up at you like that.  “Why should I touch you at all tonight, baby boy?” you asked sweetly; he rested his forehead on your knee, looking exhausted from his own desperation.

“I… I don’t know if you should,” he admitted, surprising you a bit.  “I just know that if you don’t, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

You said nothing, though you couldn’t fight your smile, and he continued softly under his breath.

“I swear, I only want you,” he whispered.  “I only ever wanted you.”

“Alright,” you shrugged, “show me how bad you want me.”

Uncrossing your legs, you let him see that your little outfit today didn’t include any panties; as he caught a glimpse up your skirt, his shoulders and chest sunk with a sigh.  “Mistress,” he breathed, but a second later he grabbed a tight hold of your legs and yanked you closer to the edge of the bed so he could push up your skirt and dive right in.

He was always ravenous when he did this.  It didn’t matter how long it had been since you saw him last, how long you teased him, or if you just walked right in and ordered him to his knees: he always, always ate you out like his life depended on it.  He was obsessed with serving you this way, moaning and whimpering against your skin, grabbing weakly at your hips or thighs and sometimes struggling to control his own arousal as his cock throbbed in his trousers.

You were already trying to temper your reactions; if you showed how much you liked it, you’d be surrendering a bit of your dominance, and that couldn’t be allowed.  Instead of gasping or moaning his name, you simply hummed and reached down to card your fingers through his hair; he whined against you, even louder when you tugged on it.

“Good boy,” you praised softly, making him shut his eyes tight as he sucked and licked at everything his mouth could reach.  He flicked his tongue over your clit and you fought not to let your hips buck against his face.  “Very good boy— how much do you like tasting Mistress’ cunt?”

“More than anything,” he answered, taking a break from the main task to kiss and bite hungrily all over your inner thighs.  “Fuck, I could taste you forever— you’re so perfect— should I keep going?”

“Of course, baby, just keep looking up at me.”

God, those eyes; sometimes you thought he could look right through you with those.  Could he see how hard you were fighting not to lose it right there, not to lay back and order him to fuck you?  You wondered if he would— it had never gone that far with him, he was obsessed with the denial, the inequity, the deprivation.  To be fair, you didn’t have sex with any of your clients… but you also never thought about sex with any of your clients, other than him.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you decided after a few moments, causing him to look up at you with concern like he’d done something wrong.

“I’m not allowed to make you come?” he pouted.

“Not yet,” you said simply.  “Get up.”

He popped right up, ready to serve— as always.

“Why don’t you take off your shoes for me?” you encouraged, and he certainly wasted no time; but as he toed his shoes off, he shirked off his jacket, loosening his tie and getting a few buttons of his shirt undone.  You raised your eyebrows, frowning at his eagerness.  “Stop.  I didn’t say all that.”

He slowed to a stop.  “S-sorry,” he mumbled, looking away.

“Lay on the bed.”

You watched patiently as he did, sitting up beside him but not getting too close.  He looked nice mostly-dressed, his suit half-removed and a bit disheveled.  You’d made him strip completely before, adding to his vulnerability, but you thought there were benefits to this too: by wearing his work clothes, you were reminding him of the man he was supposed to be while treating him like the needy boy he really was.  Whether or not he noticed that irony, he shuddered when you gently brushed your hand over his bulge, which flexed as if trying to ask for more itself.

“Look how hard you got for me, just from eating me out,” you noticed proudly.

“Tastes so good,” he whimpered his excuse, biting his lip when you started to open his belt and trousers.  “Y-you’re sure I deserve it?”

“No,” you admitted, “but I think it might be fun to touch you a little.  You want me to, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, of course,” he rushed, just as emphatic as ever.

He keened and bucked up into your hand when you just barely touched his cock; you pulled away, giving him a stern look as a reminder not to move too much.  When he settled down, you gently reached into his boxers again and freed his aching cock.  There was a little precum at the tip already, and he was looking at you with fascination as you delicately touched him, but never properly gripped or stroked it just to keep him on edge a little more.

“How long has it been since anyone but me touched you like this, baby boy?” you wondered.

“Y-years,” he choked, “years— I don’t even touch myself anymore, I swear.”

You gently ran your fingers over the ridge of the head, making him shudder and writhe on the bed.  “Are you sure?  You didn't even jerk off after feeling up that lovely young lady in the magazine?"

"No— and I didn't— c'mon, Mistress, don't you believe me?" he choked.  "I'm your good boy, you know I am— love being yours…"

“So you really don’t touch yourself?”

“No!” he snapped, correcting his tone a moment later.  “No, I… I stopped when you told me to.”

"Well, how about you show me how you used to do it?" you encouraged with a grin, taking your hand away from him.  "Stroke your cock for me, puppy."

"No, please," he gasped, "I want you to— please, I'm sorry—"

"Stop fucking whining and do what I tell you," you sneered.  "Not such a good boy after all, are you?"

He suddenly scrambled to get his hand around his cock when you put it like that, groaning and biting his lip as he gripped himself tightly.  "Like this, Mistress?" he panted proudly.

"Mm, something like that," you cooed.  "But go a little slower, baby boy, we've got plenty of time."

His eyes got wide with fear— fear that you would really make him edge himself the whole time.  You had much bigger plans, though.

He found a rhythm: not horribly slow, but careful and precise.  His cheeks kept getting pinker as you watched him, and he once reached out to touch your thigh with his free hand, but you moved away.

“C’mon,” he begged quickly, “can I just… can I at least see…?”

“See what?”

“Y-your tits, maybe,” he asked shyly, stroking his cock faster already at just the thought.

“I don’t think you need to see my tits,” you accused, noticing that his cock was already flexing in his grip.  He really had been worked up, if he was this sensitive to just his own hand.  “You’re doing just fine, baby.”

He grunted but went on, shifting around on the bed slightly.

“A little faster now,” you told him.  “When you used to jerk off like this, before you met me, did you imagine while you did it?  Did you watch porn?”

“Yes— I mean, imagine, always; porn sometimes,” he answered.

“What kind of porn?”

“Uh… this kind,” he admitted with a small laugh.  When you heard that laugh, saw the self-effacing smile on his face, you suddenly thought again about what your friend said: if you’re catching feelings, get out now.  But you shook the thought from your mind.

“Do you miss it?  Being able to get yourself off?” you pressed.

“Fuck no,” he grunted, and you caught the way his cock bobbed in his hand— he was getting even closer, poor thing.  “Don’t even— don’t want to now, but… but I’m trying so hard to be good for you…”

“I know,” you offered with a sympathetic, yet condescending, pout as you leaned in and caressed his face for a second.  Just that seemed to push him even closer, and he struggled to keep his hips down again.  

“I— fuck, I’m close,” he finally admitted.  “I’ll come…”

“Okay,” you shrugged.

"Oh, please, please don't make me come," he whimpered.  "I— I don't wanna come like this…"

You tilted your head.  "Like what, puppy?" 

"I want… I want you to touch me…" he pouted, eyes welling up a bit.

"We agreed you don't deserve that, Robert," you said sternly.

"Fuck! I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed— and there were real tears, he was obviously devastated that he had let you down so much.  "I'll do anything, I swear— let me be your good boy, your puppy— Mistress, I just wanna be yours again…"

You slapped him hard on the thigh when you saw his hand start to falter.  "Don't slow down," you snapped.  "I want you to keep going— keep stroking your poor cock, don't fucking stop until I tell you."

"But I— I'm so close," he choked.

"That's not my fault," you chuckled.  "You're a pathetic whiny baby who comes too quick, that's not really my problem."

He bit his shaking lip and blinked through his tears, hips beginning to buck up into his own hand.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said over and over, "I didn't mean to be bad, I promise… only ever wanted t-to be your good boy…"

Feeling just a little sympathetic, you leaned in closer to speak beside his ear.  "Is my good boy gonna come if I tell him to?"

Though he hesitated, he nodded.

"But you don't want to?"

He shook his head.

"Because you want me to touch you when you come, right?" you pressed, your voice just as soft as your touch while you gently ran your hand up his leg.  He whimpered and squirmed, his eyes getting a bit wide.  "You want me to make you come?"

"Yes! Please, fuck, please, Mistress…" he gasped.  

You rubbed his inner thigh as he stroked himself faster; you could see his cock flexing, and you knew he was trying so hard not to come right then.  Deciding to test him further, you let your fingers run over his swollen balls, and he choked on his own throat.  "Bet these are so full of come for me," you purred.

"Yes, Mistress," he hissed.

"Stop moving your hand," you ordered suddenly, and for a man who'd been begging you to let him stop, he took a second to do it— his hand faltered a little as he slowed down, and he ended up holding his cock much too tight… surely trying to hold himself back from coming still.  "You wanted me to touch you, didn't you?"

"Yes," he gasped, eyes getting wide with hope.  "Yes! Please, Mistress!  I swear I'll be good…"

"Then let go of your cock and let me take care of you, baby," you cooed.  Again, he took a second to do it— still trying to make sure he wouldn't come when he wasn't choking the life out of it.  Hissing as he let go, he dropped his head back with the sweetest moan as you gave him one slow stroke from the base to the tip.  "Good job, baby," you whispered to him, "you're my good boy, aren't you?"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his exposed neck, and nodded hastily.

When his cock twitched in your hand, you figured it was just because he was so sensitive— but then, halfway into your second stroke, he gasped and suddenly began to come.  You noticed it in his face first, the way he scrunched his nose and let out a low groan; then there was hot, sticky come shooting over his chest and stomach— and ruining that nice white shirt.

You pulled your hand away instantly, giving his face the hardest slap you could; he cried out in pain, but he just kept coming and bucking his hips into nothing.  

"You pathetic, stupid boy!" you scolded, and he groaned.  "I gave you one stroke, and you came?!”

You said it in past tense, but he was still coming, whining through his teeth and blinking quickly with those long lashes of his.  He looked so sweet— but you knew that he knew he was utterly fucked.  “I-I’m sorry,” he breathed, groaning one more time and going limp onto the bed beneath him as his cock gave one more weak flex.  “I’m sorry, Mistress, I’m sorry…”

You watched him pant for a moment, almost losing your train of thought when you saw just how pretty he was.

Unfortunately for him, it gave you an interesting idea.

Loosening his tie, you slipped it off around his head; he blinked his eyes open and scrunched up his brows with confusion.  “What are you…?” he asked, though he seemed to figure it out when you gave him a certain look: he instantly held out his wrists for you, and you smiled proudly.

You didn’t just tie them together, though— you tied them to the headboard, keeping his hands bound above his head as you grinned and leaned down over him.  “What am I gonna do with you, puppy?” you cooed in a sweet-but-concerning way.

Chuckling nervously, he answered, “that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

You ran one finger over his cock, following the line a final drop of come had left down the shaft, and he hissed in a breath through his teeth.  “So sensitive,” you noticed; he tensed up, like he was catching on.

When you licked a stripe up his shaft with the tip of your tongue, his gaze darkened and his mouth went slack.  “I— I don’t—” he stammered, clearly conflicted with his desire for you and his fleeting logic telling him this was going to hurt.  “I don’t think I can… take it…”

You’d never done this to him before, but you couldn’t stop yourself: looking up at his flushed face to see his reaction, you enveloped his head with your lips.

He let out a high, desperate moan as you suckled his swollen tip; “M-Mistress, fuck, I— oh my god—”

You looked up at him, but his head was tilted back too far to see you.  You slid your mouth down further, stroking his base with your hand, until you were gagging on him and he was writhing beneath you wildly.

“Oh my god, fuck!  Fuck, fuck— I… god your mouth is warm…” 

You pulled off of him, partially to give him a bit of a break and partially so you could keep talking to him.  Then again, it wasn’t much of a break since you kept stroking him, letting your spit and his come smooth your movements, sure to focus on that poor overstimulated tip.  “It’s not too much for you, is it?  My good boy can take it, right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he promised, though he didn’t sound that confident.  It sounded like what he really meant was I’m gonna try my best to take it.

“And aren’t you so thankful that Mistress is so nice to you, sucking your cock even though you don’t deserve it?”

“Fuck, of course,” he panted, “thank yo—oh fuck, fuck—”

You threw him off by taking him down as far as you could in the middle of his sentence, but he still had his manners.

“Thank you!” he yelped, starting to shudder more violently.  “Th-thank you, so much, fuck, you’re perfect—”

When you pulled off again, he sighed with relief yet followed your mouth with a buck of his hips.  “Does it hurt, or does it feel good?” you wondered.

“I— it’s— both,” he choked.

“I bet you wished I would suck your cock someday, didn’t you?” you pressed, and he instantly nodded and whined through his teeth as you licked all over the tip with a wide tongue.  He gasped as you licked right over the slit.

“Fuck, I did— god, I— oh…”

Poor thing couldn’t get many words out in a row, he kept losing it every time you hollowed out your cheeks and swirled your tongue.  And then you gave his balls a firm squeeze, and he made a sound you thought you might’ve never heard him make before.

“Mistress, please, please,” he begged breathlessly, moaning louder as you bobbed your head up and down.  You couldn’t tell if he was begging for more or for relief, and honestly, you expected he didn’t know either.

You kept going for a few more minutes of that before his cries of pain got a little too intense— then you pulled away, and replaced your mouth with a hand stroking him as fast as you could.  He still sobbed, of course, and dropped his head back again between his restrained arms.

“Fuck, s’too much,” he breathed, “just slow down…”

“I can’t, sweet boy— I need you to come again for me,” you encouraged. 

“I— fuck, Mistress— I—” he stammered, and you could tell he was trying to stop himself from saying I can’t.  He couldn’t bear to disappoint you twice.

“Can you do that for me, baby?” you cooed, making him look at you with the widest, wettest eyes.  “Can you show me you’re still my good boy?”

“F-fuck, yes, okay,” he panted, “I’ll… I’ll come for you, just don’t stop, please…”

“I won’t stop, puppy, not until we’ve got every drop of come out of you,” you promised.

He should’ve known you took ‘every drop’ very seriously.  Though he came after just another minute of stroking him like this, you still didn’t stop.  When he cried out and tugged on his own tie holding him down, you didn’t stop.  “Fuck!” he yelped.  “Please, I can’t— I can’t!”

“Shh, yes you can,” you encouraged, though your free hand holding him down by the neck did more to keep him in place.  “C’mon, be my good boy, gimme one more.”

He kept trying to squirm away, though, and his wrists were pulling hard on that necktie— he was probably going to ruin it.

“Stop fighting so much,” you warned him firmly.  “Just be my good boy and fucking take it, come on— the fuck are you good for if you can’t do what I tell you to?”

“S-sorry,” he barely managed to get out, you almost didn’t hear it over the sound of his feet kicking all over the satin sheets.

“You don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?  Don’t you wanna show me you know how to do what you’re told?” you kept taunting him, glancing down and seeing how red and weepy his cock was getting— you knew he wasn’t much further off from coming again.

“Yes, yes, fuck, I’m sorry,” he spoke hoarsely through the pressure you were putting on his neck.

“The sooner you come, the sooner it stops, puppy,” you informed him, gripping his cock even tighter as he hissed in breaths through his teeth.  “Just come for me one more time…”

All he could do was lick his lips and nod; you let go of his neck, wanting to hear every broken moan he made.  With his eyes shut tight and his nose scrunched up, he finally came with a long and wavering grunt— that was what you were waiting for, the sound of total relief.  You slowed your movements down to a stop, smiling as you watched his cock give just two small pumps of come that dripped onto the ends of his shirt… it flexed weakly a few more times after that, but clearly he was beyond spent.

“Good job,” you praised softly, “you did so good for me… look what a mess you made…”

If you were feeling really mean you’d make him clean that all up, but something told you it was best to stop now… that ‘something’ being your watch.  You’d stayed twenty minutes late and you were probably going to piss off your next client by being significantly tardy, especially considering you had to change first; you hoped you could chalk it up to some mindfuck dominance thing, walk in and say Mistress is never late, I always get here when I want to, if you were sitting around waiting for me that just shows how pathetic you are or something.

As you thought about that, you reached up and released the tie around Robert’s hands; he didn’t jump to rub his wrists, or flex his fingers into fists to bring some feeling back.  He just let them fall limply at either side of him.

Though it was a small difference, it worried you— as did his silence.  Normally he was all over you with praises by now, thanking you for everything, telling you he couldn’t wait to see you again.  

“Was it a good session?” you asked him gently, letting him know it was over— he didn’t need to ‘perform’ anymore.  You still felt like you needed to, though.

He worried you with the continued silence, though, just catching his breath and keeping his eyes shut; just when you thought you might check again that he was okay, he nodded quickly and hoarsely insisted, “Yeah, m’fine.”

“Not too much for you?” you asked nervously, watching him shake his head— but his lip was shaking, too.  He was still crying, and you could tell it wasn’t like the whiny tears from before: he was holding back from bursting into sobs.  You interrupted the silence with a whispered Robert? and he collapsed; folding in on himself, he curled into a ball on the bed and shook as he cried.  Your eyes went wide as you realized you were absolutely in over your head.

Aftercare was generally not part of the deal.  Most of your clients didn’t want it— they preferred to process whatever they needed to alone, after you left— and the rest just had to suck it up, though they never made much of a fuss.  This felt like a real situation, and you felt guilty leaving now, but worried you’d only make it worse or break your own rules if you intervened somehow.

“I’m gonna give you some time,” you offered as you sat up— like ditching him now was a courtesy.  Of course, as you expected (from him, specifically), he reached out for you.

“Please stay,” he begged— still heavily in his submissive mindset, it seemed, and sniffling pathetically.  “Please, please—”

“Your time’s up,” you informed him flatly.

“Anything,” he whimpered, “name your price.”

“It’s— it’s not about the money, Robert,” you sighed.  “It’s just unprofessional.”

“But I need you,” he breathed, and your heart twisted.  “You can’t leave me like this, I just— I just need you to—”

Relenting, you sat back down on the bed; he instantly wrapped his arms around you, buried his face in your chest, and pulled you down with him.

Though it took you a moment, you went ahead and wrapped your arms around him in return, hoping to soothe him.  “I’m sorry,” he said, though you struggled to make it out at first until he kept repeating it.

“It’s okay,” you replied softly, rubbing his back and looking down at the mess of brown hair shaking with each sob.  “It’s okay, baby, you did really good… I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to go very hard on you, I mean, I’ve made you come a lot more than that before.”

“Not that,” he choked, finally pulling his face up to let you see and hear him better.  Your heart broke seeing how overwhelmed he really was.  “I just… I really don’t wanna disappoint you…”

In retrospect, maybe you should’ve known it would be too much for him— or maybe it was something about today, it just hit the wrong way, you couldn’t be sure.  It didn’t really matter, in the end.  

You sat up a bit, and he followed you, as you sighed and held his face.

“Robert, I was just— that wasn’t real,” you promised.  “I needed something, you know, to work with.  I just wanted you to prove your loyalty— I was never angry with you.”

“I know,” he croaked, though he was calming a bit already, “I know that, but I— it felt like it.  Nobody else tells me what I’m supposed to do, you know— only you do that.  I need that.  Then I can know I’m doing what I’m supposed to… you’re the only person I can’t let down.”

Biting your lip for a second, you reached out to touch his chest through the half-unbuttoned shirt, but he pulled away suddenly.

“I know what this is,” he said, suddenly sounding a bit more normal again— almost clinical, actually.  “I know this is your job.”

“Well… yeah,” you mumbled; obviously he knew that.  You tried to understand what he was really saying to you.

“I know… none of it’s real,” he added, looking away.  

Gently, you turned his face back to yours, wiping a tear from his cheek with your thumb.  “I really am proud of you,” you whispered, moving closer to him on the bed.

He held your face, then, too; and he put his other hand on your waist, moving even closer to you.  “Please…” he began, and though the word was overwhelmingly familiar, you were sure you’d never heard him say it like that before.  “Please, let me kiss you.”

You kissed him first, feeling one more tear roll down his face as he pulled you closer and pressed your body to his.

The kiss was soft at first, still a little teary; the way he held you was incredibly tender but with a lightly-suppressed neediness behind it… his fingers would tighten at your waist sometimes and you could tell he wanted to just force you against him.  You’d let him, if he wanted to, but he was probably too weak after all that.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, reaching to hold onto his shoulders and squeeze them.  “I’m so sorry, baby—”

“No,” he breathed against your lips, barely stopping the kiss to speak, “no— no, you’re perfect—”

“Stop it,” you mumbled, pushing him away slightly.  “I’m not.  I fucked up.  I went too hard on you.”

“I— I could’ve safeworded, I just didn’t… I don’t know,” he shook his head before leaning it onto your shoulder.  “You must think I’m pathetic.”

You laughed a little as you combed your fingers through his hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp.  “No, I just get paid to call you pathetic.  You’re so strong…”

“No, I’m not,” he promised, his voice oddly firm and stable for how weepy the words could’ve come off.  “I’m not— not even strong enough to… to end this.”

You froze up, looking at him with wide eyes as he pulled his face up close to yours.

“It’s not right anymore,” he whispered to you, cradling your cheek in his palm; god, his hands were warm.  “You know it, don’t you?  You can tell.  You can tell I broke the fucking rules.”

“Don’t tell me, after all this bullshit,” you managed to laugh bitterly, “you really are dating one of those fucking models— or both—”

“Not that rule, fuck,” he coughed, “no— I fucking fell for you.”

You blinked quickly, forcing yourself to believe you misheard him.  “You—?”

“I fell in love with you.”

“No— Robert, you don’t even know me,” you insisted, looking away.

“I want to!  God, I want to,” he groaned, “it’s all I think about: what you must be like when you’re not, you know, on the clock.  What turns you on, what ticks you off, what… fuck, what you eat for breakfast!  Anything.”

“Then you don’t love me,” you informed him, “you love the idea.  You love the… mystery.  You don’t really want to know me, I promise.”

“You don’t love a mystery because you want it to stay that way,” he laughed, rubbing your shoulders— only then did you notice your own eyes were getting teary.  You really didn’t want him to see you that way, but you didn’t have much choice now.  “You love a mystery because you can’t wait to get to the ending and figure it all out!  I just wanna know you— you’re a page-turner.”

“Okay, the metaphor is a little tired now,” you rolled your eyes, but you sniffled and tried to hide your face.

“Hey,” he whispered, petting your head, toying with your hair for a moment with his fingers.  “I know you can’t keep going on with me, now that I said that.  I know this is gonna have to be goodbye.  But I… I think goodbye is still less painful than having to be this close to you but so far away.  I’m sorry… I thought I was strong enough for this.”

Get out now.  Get out now.  The advice echoed in your head.  If you’re catching feelings, get out now and definitely do not tell him you’re falling for him too— no don’t you fucking dare bitch— “It’s not goodbye,” you blurted out.  “I’m not strong enough for that.”

When you dared to look at him, his eyes were full of hope.

“God, you look fucked up,” you noticed with a laugh, your eyes scanning his ruined suit.  “C’mon, let’s get you in the bath.”

~

There was plenty of room in this bathtub, more than any one person could need— plenty for you to have your own space.  But, of course, Robert kept you close to him, your chest against his back as he ran his hands over your skin under the water.

“For breakfast?  I don’t know, I guess I have toast a lot, if I remember it,” you chuckled.  “My mornings are pretty busy.”

“Any pet peeves?” he asked.

“Uh, people who don’t use earbuds on public transport,” you decided.

“Ah,” he nodded.  “That sounds irritating.  I, um, haven’t been on public transport…”

You rolled your eyes, but you giggled, too.

“If you could only wear one color for the rest of your life, what would it be?” he prompted.

You turned over, splashing the water a bit, so you could look up at him.  “Is this interrogation ever gonna end?  The water’s getting cold.”

“Well, so far, the more I know, the more I wanna know, so…” he trailed off.  “Guess we’re gonna be in here ‘til I solve the mystery, hm?”

You laughed, but he pulled you into another kiss— more energetic than before, but still sweet, still a little hungry.  When you pulled back, he leaned in and kissed your neck instead.  “I think we could be here all night and still have a lot left to cover,” you warned him.

“I can afford all night,” he shrugged.

As tempted as you were to take him up on that, you had to accept that that element of the arrangement was over now.  “I’m not gonna charge you,” you admitted, making him break away from your skin to look up at you.  “You wanted to learn what I’m like off the clock, right?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling you a little closer until you straddled his lap in the water.  “I wanna learn whatever I can.”

“Well, here’s something you should’ve figured out a lot sooner,” you offered, running your fingers over his jaw until you gently held his chin, making him look up at you with this sweet, pouty, needy look on his face.  “I fell for you, too.”

[yanderestarangel]

✏ anon request: "Can you write something about smoke holding back his desires because he doesn't want to be pushy or selfish but the reader tells him to let loose? Like a sub!tomas to a rough dom!tomas"

- - - -

TW: hard!dom tomas, sexual fantasies, fetishes, daddykink, breed!kink, spit on mouth, v!sex, blowjob - deep throat, rough sex, dub con, hunter!play, primitive sex, size!kink, bare sex, degradation, oral (f!re), nicknames, ftm!reader, extreme!smut, nsfw, bites, afab anatomy, power play, part.1.

♡ - Tomas has so much built-up lust that it literally physically hurts the poor guy. He was always repressed in many aspects - whether sexual or sentimental - throughout his years of life, he was always the younger brother, the sweet and kind man, the ninja who helped everyone... But even though he repressed his thoughts even more of dominance, inside, something inside the Slav was something more primitive, desires that he could never let out.

♡ - However, you soon entered his life, and to make matters worse, his desires increased even more. He tried to masturbate so he wouldn't take it out on you, but every time he saw you, he just wanted to bend you over the nearest surface and fill you to the brim with his cum, while turning you into a dumb, quivering mess for him. The first few times you had sex were also calmer, with Tomas afraid of hurting you, and not penetrating you, just letting you have fun with his cock, whether sucking it or just rubbing your pussy over his thick length - like I already wrote in another headcanon, Smoke is a guy with an 8-inch dick, in addition to being an extremely muscular man, who can easily break you in half for several reasons - so he just settles for having your orgasm, but from the moment when you tell him to just let go and take everything out on you... This man becomes a hungry beast.

♡ - Tomas will start to be rougher, starting with oral sex. Before, when he was still repressing himself from being a submissive, he would just give calm and peaceful licking and fingering, however, now he will suck your pussy, ordering you to ride his face, slapping your ass and squeezing your breasts - if you you have - while deliciously degrading you, the ninja's husky voice against your sensitive skin, placing your clit between his teeth lightly, making you jump and squirm. "-I've been wanting this, dreaming about fucking you like this, feeling your tight pussy squeezing my tongue like that. You're driving me crazy, baby, you're my whore, aren't you?" he would grunt as he motivated you to rub even more of your wetness against him, you couldn't help but let out a loud squeal, feeling the change in the power dynamic between the two of you, before Vrbada only showered you with affectionate nicknames but now, he treated you like a cheap slut and you.... Loved that.

Tomas has several fetishes, and after the first time you authorize him, he will use them all on you, whether they are:

♡ BREEDING!KINK ♡ With him fucking you raw, the skin on skin drove him crazy, he turned into a mf smug while he had one hand on your neck and the other holding your waist, pounding your pussy roughly, affectionately calling you "my little breeding slut" filling your little pussy with his hot and thick cum, the feeling becomes uncomfortable as he cums inside you so much, but he tells you to squeeze your thighs and not let any drops fall, after all, you are the good boy from him. "-Just keep those pretty thighs closed ok? Yes my pretty bitch, you're a good boy, and good boys close their pussies when told to... I want to see you filled with my kids."

♡ DADDYKINK ♡ Tomas has always had the need to feel in control, so for you to call him "Daddy" while he's so rough, abusing your holes is so amazing to him. He will just use your favorite nicknames while he fucks your throat - forcing you to deep throat him, as he quickly takes his member out of your mouth leaving a burning sensation in your throat, tears running down your face, making the tall man smile and rub the dick in your cheek, hitting the member in your face and returning to the heat of your tongue. "-Oh fuck... Keep sucking daddy's cock will you? You can handle that, can't you? You're just my stupid boy, my cockslave' so beautiful and so needy, just like a good slut would be."

♡ HUNTER!PLAY ♡ Smoke will use his talents as a Hunter to hunt you, an aggressive and primitive sex, with you being his prey - like a lost deer, being sought after by a hungry wolf - he will give you a five-minute advantage to run through the forest, the The sun was setting while you tried to run away... But you knew it was inevitable, and that made you even wetter, after all your boyfriend warned you that the further you went, the rougher he would fuck you. He knew exactly where you were, throwing you to the ground and pinning your neck with his biceps against the dry leaves - his blue eyes shone with a primal hunger and he practically salivated, pulling his already hard cock out of his pants. Smoke held your face, forcing you open your mouth and spitting inside. "-Swallow it my dirty little slut... And get ready, I'm going to fuck you until you can barely mouth my fucking name." He will cover your mouth, isolating your sounds as he fucks you into oblivion, sucking your breasts and leaving you totally marked with bites.

♡ SIZE!KINK ♡ He loves seeing the bulge that builds up in your womb as he continually shoves his cock into your overstimulated hole, placing one of his hands to feel how big it is, and how much it is bouncing inside your little womb. "-Do you feel that? You're taking my cock like a champ, boy... My slutty baby boy just wants me to destroy you... Damn you're a pretty, naughty little thing." Tomas fills you repeatedly with his cum, the feeling of being bigger and stronger than you, being able to break you in half at any moment was intoxicating for him, carrying you all over the house and lifting you in his arms, making you cum and squirt in the his cock several times, and he won't stop, until he sees you limp and about to pass out on his lap, after all, you asked for it.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆.

[wynndigogh]

When you ask AI about the guys' festishes:

Sure! Let’s take another approach by delving deeper into how each Turtle’s personality could influence their specific romantic preferences or fetishes, keeping it character-driven and respectful.

Leonardo:

Personality: Leonardo is the disciplined, serious leader, often putting duty before his personal desires. He’s very much about control, responsibility, and being grounded.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Leo might have a preference for control and structure in a relationship. He may be attracted to dynamics where he can maintain a sense of order and responsibility. He might also enjoy the concept of protection, taking on a guardian role, which could extend into romantic preferences where he feels responsible for his partner’s well-being.

Potential Fetish: A likely fetish for Leonardo could involve elements of authority or discipline, such as uniforms or a protective dynamic in which he takes charge, reflecting his natural leadership tendencies.

Michelangelo:

Personality: The most carefree and fun-loving of the group, Michelangelo is all about enjoyment, humor, and relaxation. He’s less concerned with responsibility and more focused on living in the moment.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Mikey would likely be into playfulness and experimentation, always eager to have fun in a relationship. He’d enjoy partners who are adventurous, spontaneous, and willing to try new things. His interests would lean toward the lighthearted and sensual, where both he and his partner can feel free and unpressured.

Potential Fetish: Michelangelo might be into role-playing or costumes, reflecting his love for creativity, comic books, and fantasy. He could also have a strong interest in the playful, tactile aspects of intimacy, enjoying physical connection in a way that feels fun rather than overly serious.

Donatello:

Personality: The intellectual and inventor of the group, Donnie values intelligence and curiosity. He’s a deep thinker, often lost in his tech projects, and tends to be more introverted and shy about his feelings.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Donatello would probably be attracted to someone who can engage his mind, stimulating him intellectually. He’d likely appreciate partners who are curious, logical, and willing to explore new ideas with him, particularly in the realm of science and technology.

Potential Fetish: Donnie might have a fascination with technology-based intimacy or even a curiosity toward things like virtual reality or cyber-themed aesthetics. His attraction to intelligence might lead him toward cerebral forms of connection, such as finding excitement in the mind-body connection or partners who challenge his intellect.

Raphael:

Personality: Raphael is intense, passionate, and emotionally complex. He hides a vulnerable side behind a tough exterior and struggles with expressing his feelings, often turning to physicality or anger instead.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Raph would likely be drawn to power dynamics in relationships, where there is an element of tension or challenge. He may be attracted to partners who can stand up to him or push back when necessary, enjoying the emotional and physical interplay between strength and vulnerability.

Potential Fetish: Raphael could lean toward dominance and submission dynamics, where the power struggle is part of the excitement. He might find thrill in the intensity of both control and being challenged, reflecting his internal conflict and desire for emotional release. Raph could also be drawn to partners who enjoy physicality, whether through intense intimacy or shared combat training.

Summary of Fetishes:

Leo: Likely into authority, uniforms, and possibly a protective dominance dynamic.

Mikey: Enjoys playful role-playing, costumes, and tactile, fun-loving connections.

Donnie: Could have a tech-related fetish, perhaps involving virtual elements or an intellectual connection.

Raph: Might gravitate toward power dynamics, with a focus on intensity, challenge, and dominance.

[denial-permanente]

Hi there,

I’ve been a follower of your for quite a while and have to say I admire the dynamic you and Tom share, and the strength and closeness that your base relationship reflects.

I send this seeking your opinion, and I apologize if you’ve already answered this before.

I find myself in a precarious situation where I have, slowly, yet steadily and surely, become interested in chastity. For me, and I say this with as much honesty as one can, my interest in this isn’t fetishized as is more Domme focused. As in, I do not find myself interested in the idea because it gets me all hot and bothered (despite the fact that it does), but is more my desire to offer my Domme something I know I have not fully internalized and am fully comfortable with. Its beyond my comfort zone but that is where growth and magic take place. I will want yo say that my apprehension or anxiety are not because I don’t want to be thrown/throw myself into the deep end, but a nervousness about the realities and challenges of how it will play out if that makes sense? It’s sort of a ‘careful what you wish for’ kind of situation.

I am currently seeing a very special woman who is very much on the dominant side of things and we’ve talked about some aspects that our dynamic would involve. We have discussed orgasm control, and she has made it clear to me that this is an expectation she has of me, but chastity is yet to be discussed.

We have been nurturing a very beautiful connection in our relationship, but the thought of her potentially wanting me in chastity and wanting to wear my key on her neck for the world to see (even if fee pick up on it) makes me a little nervous. I feel like that would break me as a submissive, it would make me realize my place infinitely more deeply and would bring me into a state of submission that is beyond what Im used to or know what to expect from.

So I guess my question is: why do you think Im feeling this way and do you think I should override this nervous and just surrender to that desire of hers (as it comes up) fully? I know these are questions only I could answer but I appreciate your experience and take on this greatly.

Thank you in advance :)

Like a lot of men, you may be way overthinking all this. You're seeing a domme, you have chemistry, and things are going well. And instead of just enjoying all this you are worried that things will go... too well? 🙄

First of all, she may not even want to wear one of those ugly keys. I'm sorry... I know a lot of you men get all hot and bothered but we are not 14 years old here. Those keys are ugly and no woman wants to wear one especially if they are dressed up.

Second, she wants to control your orgasms. That is perfectly acceptable with or without a cage. By asking... demanding that she take control of your orgasms she makes sure that your desire is focused on her and not on your penis. I told my husband many years ago that I wanted all of the control over that and even in times when he was not caged he took that very seriously. To me it represented a huge commitment... and women love to see commitment from men.

I guess what I'm saying is to forget about the cage. That is... the cage is not to prevent orgasms, it is to prevent accidents and temptation... both yours and hers.

🔒Tom here. This is a point that gets overlooked a lot: cages do not prevent orgasms, they simply make them inconvenient. Long before my permanently locked status, I considered it a personal challenge to refrain from unauthorized orgasms. Once, my wife had me going for over 15 very difficult months, no cage. And it's true - women love their men to show commitment.

I also think that you're overthinking this. Orgasm control is a step, wearing a cage for her is another step. I understand that guys can have mixed emotions of love/hate/fear over orgasm control/denial, but instead of approaching it as something taken away from you, try looking at it as a sacrifice you are making for her.

[womendeservehumanity]

Ok I really am done with twitter now…. To Bluesky I go because the fact that this complete and utter garbage shows up on my tl because it’s the alt right misogynistic (along with racist, homophobic, etc.) bullshit that Elon wants to shove down my throat instead of my actual interests such as feminism, tennis, film, humor, etc which prior to about a year ago was what I would see because the algorithm was actually formulated for ME. Now it’s this. And what I especially find crazy is I’ve seen this account before. He’s a self proclaimed incel who hates women to unfathomable degrees. Thinks they’re all evil, narcissistic, shallow, promiscuous, etc. And yet men still gave him a semi viral tweet because there’s no line to be drawn

There is no line in the sand for what is unacceptable. Men have no problem endorsing the ideas of a clearly mentally ill and delusional individual who loudly and proudly hates women and perpetuates harmful and untrue rhetoric about them and their “nature”. Who, like many incels, genuinely think every single woman is somehow dating 1% of the male population when all it takes is actually going outside and seeing that average people are dating each other and not every woman has her very own Ken doll.

And he is another example of my last post where these plebs live in a reality where men are perpetual victims being beaten, kicked, and spit on by evil wahmen and men. Uhh erm men are totally not doing anything. They’re totally hating, bashing, and harassing women online. Dedicating entire spaces to it. They’re totally not literally raping, abusing, and killing women. Implying that would be painting them as anything other than innocent babies and would give more nuance to these evil women “hating them”

Also, and my last thing, this dude is Chilean. Still lives there and tweets about it from time to time (getting little to no likes bc his followers only care when he’s shitting on women). He sometimes shows his especial hatred for Latina women, mainly for being disloyal and promiscuous. He gets upset about their fetishization and them being pedestalized by white males along with Asian women as the ideal woman who’s submissive and traditional unlike those combative white women because to him all women should be hated by men and men need to “wake up”. He’s constantly trying to push back at those sentiments and Latina women being painted in a (not really) positive light. And use anecdotes to prove that they’re sooo evil. Something about being an mra who acts as though women have this collective hive mind dedicated to making men’s life miserable while living in Chile when your country along with all of Latam has a huge misogyny culture namely femicide. Chile especially has a huge domestic violence problem yet he still finds it in himself to villainize women, specifically women from his region and act as though they don’t suffer. Act as though men aren’t the reason. Or that it’s just these 1% chads when if you look at the news your average abuser is literally just some guy.

[gabessquishytum]

Consider, monsterfucker!Dream (from the Endless viewpoint)

The Endless do not truly have form at all. The first shapes they took were small and simple, like the earliest lifeforms. Over the eons, they've all experimented with many shapes, and physical pleasure and pain, but they are not beings of flesh. And they are simple. At their core, they are one aspect of existence. Dream even says they are mortals' toys and meant to be manipulated by them.

They've all fallen in love at least once. Dream, though, Dream keeps doing it. His siblings are baffled. He has a weird fondness for bipeds (there are so many beautiful creatures with radial symmetry!). One day he shows up moaning he was prepared to make a mortal his queen for all eternity; another day he shows up with a baby! He's cooing over the squirming thing while the Endless are gaping. "You gave yourself DNA?" Most of the time, they don't bother with all the internal organs or fluids, and Dream's giving himself a fully functioning reproductive system. He loves mortals, he wants a life with a mortal, he wants to engage in all aspects of physical intimacy with a mortal, he's sad when mortals--which are meant to form relationships with other mortals, creatures that can understand them, not anthropomorphic personifications, Dream!--leave him.

Dream shows up with Hob, and the other Endless just glare at Death, who insists she had no idea this would happen, when has Dream ever needed more than 5 minutes to fall in love? Besides, he usually chooses females. Desire sniffs and Despair points out they are all far more familiar than they like with Dream's kinks, and Destiny mutters something about humans barely having any sexual dimorphism.

Hob, of course, has no idea that Dream's family consider him far too vast for them to understand and also a being they were created to serve.

Oh I do love this way of looking at things. Dream’s weird biped fetish <333

Of course humans are fascinating but they really are quite... limited. Only 4 limbs, and such basic sexual organs. Of course they are sentient, which gives them a certain kudos in the universe, but they're not particularly advanced. Desire could list of a dozen creatures which are far more interesting in less than a minute. They've given up trying to understand Dream’s romantic inclinations. Even when he went for a more interesting biped form (Calliope would resent being addressed as that but its basically true), Dream chose a goddess associated with poetry. He could have fucked the SUN GOD! Or the goddess of agriculture, something interesting and all-encompassing like that! But no, he went for a muse of poetry. What a bloody weirdo.

And then there's Hob Gadling. Hoooooly shit. He's an actual human, less than 1000 years old, he's completely mundane, he has absolutely no extraordinary skills and he's so... just. Eww. The sweat and the dirt under the fingernails and breathing. He's a perfectly nice guy, Death is very fond of him, but she can't imagine taking him to bed. What would she do with him?! He can't even transcend the planes of reality!!

Well, Dream does at least seem happy. Perhaps he's exploring his submissive side in more detail by learning to serve a human on an individual basis? None of his siblings want to know, actually. Maybe it's time to give Dream up as a lost cause :')

[satomatto]

. //TK DAYS | NAOYA ZEN'IN.

cw: femdom; bondage; supposedly non-con/dub-con towards the end; Naoya is a bastard and that says it all.

tw: control/submission; brat taming; orgasm control; dry orgasm; semi-public; anal sex; is prostate massage with an armature part of your plans, dear friends? now yes; humiliation; binding; it can be a little incoherent in places; facesitting; foot fetish (a little?); Naoya is a bastard x2.

wc: 3.2k

Your fingers gently run over the rough rope. The quiet, sweet breathing right next to you is relaxing. The pretty face is surprisingly calm. A little off-putting. And after all, this guy is cute only when he's asleep - the muscles of his face are soft and relaxed, and his mouth isn't spewing tons of nasty, barbed words that spread through you like poison.

The airy lace shirt, you know that silly pink thing makes him drool. He'd prefer to fuck you without taking it off and then jerk you off for weeks, clutching it in his fist and reaching for it with every fiber of his worthless soul until the smell wears off.

It's truly disgusting to watch it from behind the screen. While he's sure you still don't suspect a thing. Oh yeah, sure, the bastard moans loud and high while he does it - it's impossible not to realize what's going on during these 'meditation' sessions in the back room of the clan mansion. It's worth giving him credit, he's actually more focused afterward. As befits a worthy Zenin heir.

And, as befits a worthy bride of a Zenin heir, you're doing a pretty good job of keeping him in line. After you came into his life and followed him around, he became much more balanced, which is surprising to everyone. You've heard a few thank yous from the servants. You know, the assistant Zenin personal chef adores you. And your personal maid, who was begging to be transferred somewhere - even demoted, expecting you to treat her like Naoya - is now willing to die for this place.

Good food is never too much to ask for, though, is it? And always clean clothes and royal-level service at the snap of your fingers comes in handy most of the time, too. Besides, access to the gossip going around between the clans and in this cursed place comes in handy too.

For example, that's how you found out that Naoya has a small altar in his room dedicated to a man named Toji. Fushiguro was once a Zenin, and after a couple fateful interactions, little Naoya made him his ideal - in fact, even without going into details, you find the man worthy of respect, but Naoya… He's always been the odd one. Anyway, since this place was never built on such high feelings, like a respect, it's a sin not to take advantage of another of his weaknesses - that's the extra pressure points, right?

But, uh, can't you just throw away all your trump cards? Nope, and that's the only reason you're not talking right now. Yes, sometimes it's worth it to stick your tongue up your ass to enjoy watching others bury their heads in the sand, luckily for you, Naoya wasn't good at shutting up in time, but isn't that more fun?

Looking at him makes you think about so many things and it does make you want to try to mess with him in much more subtle ways, but at the moment you should stick to your plan. It's too early to cross the line. Boundaries need to be pushed first, then broken.

You know, it's pretty sweet. What a blatant variety - the sheer volume of curses he heaps on you (the only thing his generosity shows, merit note) while his cock desperately jerks and leaking thick, translucent pre-ejaculate profusely. He's already soiled his expensive clothes and is now whimpering at your feet like some dirty dog.

"Doesn't your pretty mouth know how to do anything else?" you mock him. He'd said the same thing to you once, one of your first nights, and you hadn't had much experience in bed, either, since most of your interactions had been limited to fingering and the porn the maid had shown you.

It's not something a noble lady can do, but in the end, you had to - after you were put up as collateral, you had to gain the trust of the heir.

So all your family's debts were forgotten as a wedding present. Still, thanks to this performance, you remain relatively free, so it's not like you regret what you've done.

Especially because the heir to the clan himself turned out to be such a whore.

The soft slippers you usually wear - you wish you'd changed them for high-heeled shoes. Preferably with a platform, the kind that would smear that pretty face on the garden tiles where he's lying tied up and helpless.

With a sharp tug on the ropes, you struggle to get this carcass to sit up and turn around, safely ignoring his protests.

Still, he should be quieter. Just because you dragged him to an abandoned, albeit neat barn, doesn't mean he can yell as usual and go unnoticed.

What a shame for the heir to the clan to cry out for help while in such a humiliating position. He knows how quickly rumors spread, and his frankly vile nature doesn't help his position as a victim. He'll be laughed at - there's no other way to put it!

Either way, he shuts up pretty quickly when your foot rests against his lips. Maybe fuzzy slippers really weren't the best choice - he'll choke on it. Fine, though, because in one elegant motion, you drop the slipper, which lands quite successfully nearby.

You flirt with his lips one last time. Well, he must not be ready for that yet.

So, you gently slide your foot lower, rubbing your fingertips through his clothes.

The very next second, you step on, placing your foot flat and causing him to topple backwards, hitting his head painfully on the wooden bench behind him. Watch as the idiot shakes his hips, looking for a better footing to keep from falling over.

The way he looks at you in that moment is priceless. There's so much helplessness in that fleeting contact that is immediately replaced by a contrived coldness afterward. He doesn't like restrictions. Also, he's never let you be on top, eh, complexes, complexes… Well, you'll have a blast now.

What are you thinking about, running your little foot over his cock? Not that you're going to get dirty in it too. And this pedicure was only recently done… But it's too late to back out.

Pretty warm for late summer, isn't it? The way Naoya's moans resonate in your crotch makes you redouble your efforts. Your position isn't very stable, especially because of the way he wiggles his hips to the beat, letting out another dirty moan, followed immediately by a filthy curse in a language you don't know. Well, at least it sounded vicious enough….

How nice - Naoya manages to come to his senses again and gets into that prickly shell again, spitting out another insult in your direction. He's starting to get repetitive in them. It seems even this rambunctious boy has limits; or he's just lost the ability to think clearly already, which is just as likely.

How long do you think it will take for him to soil himself in his own cum, like the dirty dog that he is? Ah, probably quite a while.

Just when you think about it, his pathetic cock begins to throb more tangibly under your leg, like a butterfly trapped in a cage (too elegant a comparison), and alas he's still moaning in a way that so caresses your ears, signaling that he's really close. But, are you going to give him that opportunity? What a freaking pump jump….

Losing your balance a little, your foot slides down, landing right on his balls. He's a big enough boy to be able to support some of your weight, ignore those frustrated-painful moans coming from this pile of incoherent shit. He's looking at you with a pitying stare, out of his clouded eye sockets. He's gonna cry, that poor guy!

At first you thought you'd hurt him somehow, but when you looked down, you saw a charming picture. This one was whining not because he was in discomfort - rather the opposite, he was literally dripping with it.

Ah, yes, that pissy little masochist.

Now you're really wondering what exactly makes him so obsessed with his training. Oh, maybe he even have played with his juicy ass before… In fact, you don't really care if he's had experience. After all, you're always happy to give people an unforgettable time!

The light satin pouch swinging on the delicate silk cord tied around your hips opened to let your delicate fingers in.

You've been planning to use it on him for a while now.

Nice wavy texture, with a very successful seal at the end, still with a comfortable, curved handle - isn't it fabulous? The material is wood. This was hard to find - such good work…. You could tell you were very pleased with your find. Well, it's time to use it on this brat, he's been so quiet, it's almost boring.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, he once again makes a wry face and venomously spouts how disgusted he is to be here, once again demanding to be untied in order to teach you some kind of lesson.

You'd think you'd be that stupid. It's not like he'd think of anything better than just making you taste your own medicine. Though you're both good at that - spitting at each other from the same angle until one of you comes up with something new, and so on and so forth. Kind of ironic.

His cock drooped and now he was only squinting somewhere through you. You didn't like the fact that he was distracted, but for the sake of a brighter future, you could be patient for a while, couldn't you?

Of course, it didn't make you feel any better to listen to the asshole's beautiful, sweet, exceptionally flattering speeches. Your soft, condescending smile won't waver - you've spent so much time perfecting it in the mirror that nothing can shake it now. Yeah, you've definitely been preparing for something like this.

Maybe not specifically for this day - you didn't even expect it to go so smoothly. Maybe our omniscient and ready for anything heir is so used to you that he doesn't even pay attention to your cursed energy anymore? You've heard that everyone has it, but even so, you can't control it. That's sad, because then you'd have so many new opportunities. And danger.

But that makes it even more interesting.

It's also funny that despite all his brave speeches, the proud Zenin still hasn't used his cursed technique that he bragged so much about. Maybe the ropes are in his way, but it's highly doubtful - the most ordinary untreated harnesses, taken a couple of days ago from the same shed.

That leaves only one possibility: he's actually enjoying it, or in other words, getting a real high, isn't he?

Even watching Naoya deal with such a pathetic situation, covered in your juices, his cock leaking more and more, even through the erection ring you so thoughtfully put on, right after he started moaning too loudly, even after your warning. Not that he was a rabbit in bed, despite the fact that he often finished things earlier than you would have liked, he was ready to go for another round almost immediately - he clearly lacked stamina, because he would also finish after a couple of slimy moans and a couple minutes of panting whimpering. You should teach him how to fuck, dear.

Yes, definitely - spread his legs even wider, tying another knot behind his back as he bites his own lips, holding back a heaving moan. He's ready to burst from the fact that you're finally coming down on his cock. The freshly cut grass is actually quite unpleasantly prickly. However, it smells good. Unlike this--

All right, fine, in fact, the master of water procedures knows how to give himself a good bath - with all those silly rituals, he most often emerges from the ofuro with a very pleasant, lingering smell of green tea and honey, among a whole bunch of disparate but surprisingly well-blended scents, even the smell of lavender slips in.

However, even all this splendor wears off after a week of regular training and other delights of a sorcerer's life. And this man is clearly not going to bother with even a simple shower once every three days, so is it worth talking about how he usually smells? Especially when you have to give him oral.

You just can't stand it, even though Naoya himself adopts a cute, wrinkled expression on your face as he stretches your mouth and nips at your throat, trying to get you to take him even deeper. Every time, he feels obligated to fuck you the hardest he can so that the next day you'll wrinkle your nose every time you need to open your mouth, even if he doesn't enjoy it himself. He just likes to see you in pain.

He may know more about clan politics than you do, but you're clearly a bit more educated than someone who spends most of his time as an adult in some sort of training (and even that is questionable now).

He stopped in that regard as soon as he turned sixteen, yes, his manners aren't bad, but still, they leave a lot to be desired, especially compared to you. Well, your former educational institution had high standards.

At the very least, you still have the support of your family and you're not his wife yet, and who's to say they have pride and would rather be up to their ears in bloody debt than let their precious eldest daughter be humiliated into full marriage.

He can't just beat you up, and his bullshit isn't the least bit intimidating, at least not yet, not once, after his next verbal diarrhea, has he ever raised a hand to you. You highly doubt his upbringing played into that. He's not a silent biter.

You pull your panties down to your ankles and pull them off, shoving them deeper into his mouth. So they don't fall out. It would be better to shove them down from your leg for security, but you're more focused now on the idea of how hard his eyes will roll. Will you be able to make him cry? There's no time to waste, because the asshole is starting to realize something - the last thing you need is for him to start squirming.

The smooth wood slides easily between your labia, collecting your natural lubrication. Yes, it may be not enough, even over the top, especially for someone who has never tried anything like this before. But, somehow, you don't care. Like he once did.

You can still remind him of the time that bastard brazenly spit in your crotch and ignoring your willingness to do it, he put it all the way in, holding your arms above your head with a steely grip.

Oh, and afterward he was so complimentary about the way your walls clenched around him that you'd think he actually liked it, pfft. You remember perfectly well how hard it was for him to move.

Here, even Naoya, the speed himself, somehow lasted longer than five minutes, all the while panting and twitching every time you clamped down because of the unpleasant sensations down there, intentionally or not. After that, he left in unhappy, snorting unhappily.

Oh, you'd forgotten how beautiful the moments were when he was silent. As you shifted him into a horizontal position, you realized that you hadn't really thought about picking up more proper knots.

It's going to be a little uncomfortable, but it's too late to back out - not when you've already done it all. You want to get to the end, and Naoya will to remember this day.

As you thought about how to push the toy in, you were totally oblivious to Naoya. You might have been a little lost in your own thoughts, but without even realizing it, you were playing with your pussy, gently collecting your juices on the toy. Well, there was nowhere to get lube anyway (and even though initially you wanted to limit yourself to spit, such a vulnerable view could not help but inspire lustful thoughts).

The guy below was literally seething, and why wouldn't he be? Hovering right over him, you were literally giving him the VIP-seats to this voyeur.

It's amazing how you didn't think of that before. He was scrutinizing your curves so closely that you couldn't even think about the admiration your body aroused in him - only senseless lust could move him, of course. Such a graceful figure, skillful hands… Ah, no wonder he likes to watch you so much - to tell you the truth, you'd do the same if you were him.

The moans coming out through his gag were music to your ears. Couldn't have been more charming.

Well, it's time for dessert. You squat down, getting comfortable on his chest and playfully wiggling your hips, teasing him even more, you spread his legs. He still doesn't understand that you want to give him the slip - poor guy. so naive… Locking the knots so that he can't move the hips at the worst possible moment, flattening your head like a watermelon, you return to his crotch.

Gently, just touching the overexcited, sensitive cock, you gently move lower and lower, smearing your secretions all over his ass. He seems to start to realize what's going on - through the half-drunk fog of arousal. he starts to move his hips indignantly, really only helping you to push the dildo into his anus.

A light flick on his engorged cock is enough to make him shriek and hastily shut up in a rag. Literally.

The ribbed walls of the wooden dildo graze his entrance with startling frequency. You might not be too rough on him, it's not to your advantage - that's an easier way to phrase it.

After a couple of thrusts, you get the feeling that he has a vacuum cleaner in his ass, otherwise how then did he create such a powerful pump? Yeah, there are more and more questions to those training sessions, perhaps you should attend one sometime…..

He's wriggling around like some kind of worm. Almost pathetic, but what can you do - you're already tired of it. Perhaps it's time to finish it?

Accelerating your thrusts to the point where your hand starts to go numb, suddenly, stopping, you grab his flushed cock. It feels swollen, as do his balls.

It must be painful? Not being able to get free for so long.

You probably should have tortured him a little longer, made him walk with the ring long enough for him to come crawling back to you, but you've had enough of that already. Nerves are getting the better of you, aren't it?

Such tension - ah, his whole body shakes and arches as you squeeze him lightly at the base.

The muffled click of the lock on the ring sends a wave of satisfaction through your body. Zenin is so sensitive right now, he could cum from your breath-… And that's something you should have thought about a little earlier. Or at least realize how hard it's been on him all this time. Probably should have brought tissues, though… What do you need them for when you have such an adorable mouth around? Should you get him to clean you? Oh, no, you've got a better idea.

Sliding closer to his face, still wiggling your hips and never stopping generously jerking him off, you position your ass roughly where his mouth is. From the sounds of it, the heir managed to spit out your makeshift gag the moment you sat on him. Come on, you're not that heavy, but apparently it was just too much for some people - heavy breathlessness is a testament to that.

At first you thought he wouldn't have thought of it on his own, because he'd never been brilliantly intelligent - brazen, maybe, but now that his brains were leaking out through his cock (and still soaking into his clothes), he was unable to form the simplest coherent sentence, making only scraps of sounds that should be… Words?

However, his tongue was between your legs pretty quickly, desperately playing with your entrance and engaging your clit. Maybe you cost each other, finally deciding to pull the dildo out of his ass, with a distinctive pop, slowly pulling out and yanking sharply when there were only millimeters left; you come to the point where you can't reuse it.

Not wanting to put the dirty toy away in that lovely pouch, you toss it into the nearest bushes, getting comfortable on the guy's face beneath you. As far as you can remember, this part of the garden will barely be reached by Friday, so you have plenty of time.

Ah, turns out this prick is really good at this. Perhaps you shouldn't have underestimated him and his complaints about you aren't so unfounded? But, he hasn't given you a hint of that until now, so… It's not enough to have talent - you have to know how to use it.

And now you've found the perfect use for it.

Even though it's a little selfish, you ignore his whimpering - on edge, you decide that a slight asphyxiation wouldn't hurt him. After all, he's only shown his best feelings for pain before.

With a loud groan, you move all over the surface available to you, rubbing your pussy all over his face, and finally soiling him with your juices, you move up and get, by your own admission, the best look on his face today.

All wet, slimy stuff, greedily gulping air with his mouth like a beached fish, tongue out and eyes rolled back in delight. His cock seems to twitch again, but this time nothing comes out of it - the guy's body shakes with spasms and he struggles desperately on the ground, trying in vain to get out of the ropes and uncomfortable position.

To think what you've driven him to - what a bad girl, eh! And exactly the same thinks the unfortunate man who came out of that damned house at such a late hour…

[acourtofthought]

People saying Gwyn and Az could not possibly be sexually compatible given Gwyn's past and because SJM once said in an interview that Az is "kinky" are forgetting a few things.

First, SJM hadn't even written the next ACOTAR book at that time. An offhand comment made to her friend while joking around is not the same thing as SJM sitting down, preparing to write the book and seeing where her character takes her, what feels like a fit for their personality, so basing what you think you know of Az off that is a reach.

Second, and this is not to sound snarky, but are those people confused on the meaning of kink? Kink is really anything outside of that which is considered vanilla, Rhys having sex with Feyre inside their minds would be considered kink.

There's a great big world of kink out there and the above is just a small list.

Do you know what's listed under M in the link?

M Is for Melolagnia

Melolagnia is a fetish that involves being turned on by music. This doesn’t simply mean having a go-to Spotify playlist when you have sex, but rather experiencing strong sexual reactions in response to music and also fantasizing about certain songs or genres. The arousal can derive from a combination of the musical elements including the singer’s voice

Do I think that's what SJM was referring to when she said Az was kinky? Probably not especially because that's considered a fetish more than a kink but she did address Az and Gwyn being singers so maybe that's his thing.

The point is we don't know what she meant by that comment, it could be any of a long list of things.

For all we know, Az himself likes being tied up as a way to take back his powerlessness while in the dungeon, a chance to control the narrative of what happened to him all those years ago.

The list of what she meant when she said that he was kinky is endless but I think some automatically assume Az is into whips and chains and there's nothing to suggest that. I think some fixate on him having the biggest wingspan, being "too much for Gwyn" while forgetting Feyre said that jokingly to Rhys with Rhys later remarking he was about to show the world who actually had the biggest wingspan.

Some try to elevate Az to some unholy sex god who could never be right for someone's official first time while ignoring what we actually know of Az.

For all that Az does to his enemies, think of how he is with the females he's around. He's gentle with Elain right? Gentle when he felt Feyre's wings. He has always been disturbed by the treatment his mother received and his treatment of women greatly contrasts that of how he acts with his enemies. For all we know, Az's kink is being a submissive.

But even if he isn't, we've got actual evidence proving Az would have no problem being gentle with Gwyn if that's what Gwyn wanted. Pairing her off with a random high lord she's never met because some assume he'd be better suited for her in the bedroom is???? I don't even know what to call that. Just because someone seems like a nice guy doesn't mean he's the same behind closed doors with a partner.

Lastly, why are people convinced that Elain would be into whatever Az's kink is? Elain slept with Graysen, her fiance a month before they were to be wed. To me that shows she was only willing to have an intimate relationship with him once they were prepared to make a lifelong commitment to one another. Also, wouldn't the better storyline for Elain be proving she's got no problems handling her mates fire?

Nearly kissing Az is not the same as sleeping with him so it seems a lot of assumptions are being made about both Elain and Gwyn in order to twist the outcome of a specific ship (surprise, surprise).

[nametakensff]

Could you possibly write 🧡 for platonic S/tobin? I love the way you always allude to them in your S/teddie fics, and I’d love to see how you write them!

Hey anon, thank you for the prompt (Warm Night In)! Had a lot of fun writing this, and it ended up just over 8k!

((Set this in my S/teddie Mutual fetish AU - this would take part a few months after the S4 v/ecna bs (obviously everyone lives and H/awkins remains unscathed for the most part because I crave happiness) - pre-relationship, mutual pining on either side))

S/teve comes down with an absolute monster of a cold and R/obin is there to look after him

~~~~~~

Content:

Platonic S/tobin, S/teddie pre-relationship (M/M), cold sneezes, loud sneezes, sneezing in tissues, S/teve blowing his nose in E/ddie's bandana, fever, coughing, caretaking, mess, spray, descriptions of explicit fetish fantasies, mentions of potential contagion, R/obin is a very good sport about S/teve being terrible at covering his sneezes

CW: internalised homophobia, S/teve is insecure about his fetish

NSFW - fic is about a platonic M/F relationship but includes separate NSFW M/M content - minors DNI!

“HH-H!! HAHHRISHHHHOOOHhh! Fuck…”

Steve snuffled miserably into the soggy tissue he’d managed to catch his most recent explosion in. It looked about as sturdy as he currently felt – which was to say, not at all. He reached out from under the protective cover of his jacket, functioning as a makeshift blanket as he lay on the breakroom couch, and plucked another 3 tissues from the quickly diminishing box. Taking in a deep breath, he blew his nose with as much force as he could muster, desperate to get some relief from the built-up congestion. All attempts of keeping noise to a minimum had dwindled hours ago, along with whatever remained of his energy. He tried not to think about the customers browsing the shelves of the establishment for movies, how they could probably hear every crackling shift of mucus that he forced out into the tissues, the embarrassingly loud honk that rounded off his efforts.

It felt as though he’d spent more time in the first half of his shift stifling the never-ending barrage of sneezes between his pinching fingers than actually working. It hadn’t done anything for his headache, squeezing his temples as if in a vice – and it certainly hadn’t helped with the blockage in his sinuses. Once Robin had shown up that afternoon, she had all but forced him to go and lie down in the back, pulling him by the arm even as he smothered another miserable sneeze against his palm.

“Steve, please. If not for your own sake, do this for me. I don’t want to be responsible for letting you die on shift from some kind of freak head explosion – especially not in front of the customers. Who do you think’ll be the one scrubbing your brains off the walls?”

“Jesus, Robin. It’s not th’haahht….that ba’hhHDD!!”

Out of pure habit at that point, Steve had pinched his quivering nostrils closed, that final touch of his fingers to the sensitive skin pushing him over the edge.

“HAHH’GXKKT’SCHHH!!”

It was quieter than his unsuppressed sneezes, nobody could fight him on that. But it’d still been loud, the desperate attempt at wrangling it into submission making it angrier, more violent to his ears – and evidently, Robin’s. She’d hissed in sympathy as he let go of his nose, the wrinkle of concern between her furrowed brows growing deeper as his sinuses audibly squeaked with each post-sneeze snuffle.

“You shouldn’t do that.” She’d worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’ll seriously hurt yourself – blow out an eardrum or something. Steve – don’t.” She finished firmly, glaring as he had started to lift his hand up to his nose in preparation for an encore.

“But ih-hih-! It’s so loud – I –“

“It’s okay, dingus. There’s, like, one guy here right now. In the adult movie section. At 4:30pm.”

It was certainly a reassuring statement, but it wasn’t really as if Steve would have been able to hold back in the first place. The couch shook with the force of the sneeze that rocked through him – the first he had actually let out unhindered since the tickle had taken hold hours earlier. He’d practically roared with the effort of it, drenching his palms as he caught it between his steepled hands.

“HAHHH’RESSSSSHHHHIEWWWW!!!”

He’d noticed Robin jump, heard her mutter a soft “oh my god” as her soul no doubt left her body. Glancing up apologetically, he had blinked through bleary eyes at her, holding his soiled hands in place. He hoped she didn’t notice the slight shiver that ran down his spine, the goosebumps breaking out over his arms. After holding back for so long, it had felt so good to purge the tickle completely, like spreading a soothing balm over the persistent, niggling itch.

“Sorry.” He had just about resisted the urge to sniffle again, knowing it would sound gnarly.

“That’s ok – hey, look at that, I don’t need that midday coffee anymore. Totally awake!” She smiled like a dork and he couldn’t help grinning behind the protective cover of his hands.

“I’m gonna walk to the store on my lunch break and get you some things. Are you allergic to any medicines? Does your head hurt? Would you say you’re coming down with a cough – and is it a chesty kind of deal, or is it more tickly? Do you –“

“Robi’d.” Steve had cut her off, both of them visibly wincing as he struggled to pronounce her name. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough, he could feel his nostrils twitching and flaring, another colossal sneeze working its way up and out of his sinuses just moments later.

“HAHHH’GITTSSCHHH’IEWWW!! Oh M’by god….”

Messy. So, so messy. As he’d snuffled and searched frantically for something to save him, Robin had slid a small pack of tissues across the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Guess I’ll take my break now. Try and hold out with these. Do not move. I’ll be back in 20 minutes, tops!”

With that, she’d spun on her heels and barrelled out of the door, leaving him to sit and stare at the tissues, holding his sticky hands tightly to his face as he tried to formulate the best plan of action. Before he’d even started to reach for them, Robin had stuck her head round the breakroom door one last time.

“Oh, and before I forget – Bless you!”

~~~~~~

‘Do not move’, she’d said. Steve had initially intended to clean himself up and ignore her entirely, getting back to organising the latest releases on the shelves and continuing as before. That had been his intention, but after the laborious and disgusting task of cleaning up his hands and face with tissues so flimsy they stuck to his skin almost instantly, and the blood rush that hit him so hard the moment he stood up he had swooned with it – not moving sounded like a great idea, actually. And so he hadn’t, for hours now.

He tossed the latest bundle of soaked tissues in the general direction of the trash can, using another few to dab gingerly under his damp, sensitive nostrils. Robin had been sure to pick him up some Kleenex Mansize on her trip to the pharmacy, making Steve blush when she’d mentioned they were the next best thing to getting him a tablecloth to use. He knew she’d just been joking but for various…reasons, his regrettably huge – and often, extremely messy – sneezes were a topic he didn’t like to draw attention to. They did a good enough job of doing that themself, turning more than a few heads each time they ripped through his sinuses. She’d noticed his change in demeanour immediately, because of course she had, and her voice had softened as she made some comment or other about ‘you know what they say about big sneezes’. He’d had to laugh at that – she had an amazing ability to disarm and placate him when all he wanted was to defend.

It was hard not to be defensive when it came to the topic of sneezing. He wondered if he’d ever be brave enough to explain why to Robin. He’d disclosed more to her than he had to any other person – even Nancy. And for what it was worth, that seemed to be the case for Robin, too. She may not have ended up his girlfriend, but this was better. She was his best friend, his person. He considered it a blessing that she actually couldn’t like him in that way – he was a fuck up, romantically. It only seemed to push people away when he got emotionally involved – another thing he had confessed to her one night when they were cuddled up in her bedroom, the late hour and the collective exhaustion between the pair of them elevating their meaningless rambling into much deeper, scarier territory.

She’d told him at the time that he wasn’t a fuck up, that he was fucking great and that he just had to believe her. That he had to slow down and stop treating dating like it was some kind of doomsday race, and that he would definitely find the girl for him. He’d been surprised that, although the comment was reassuring in its own way, something felt a little…off. Probably because an image of Eddie flashed across his mind in that moment, and the gravity of it was too much for him to handle. He’d tried his best to ignore it, but it had only flourished in the following weeks to the point he was thinking about the metalhead near constantly. It terrified him, truth be told. And that fear made him feel like a hypocrite above all else. How could he accept Robin with such ease but the thought of himself liking men almost had him breaking out in a cold sweat?

It really didn’t help that Eddie had the most extensive and pervasive allergies of anyone Steve had ever known. He’d figured the fits he’d been privy to at the boat house had been circumstantial. It had been dusty enough that he’d sneezed a couple of times himself, and he’d been there sparingly – for Eddie, it had been days of exposure. Of course he’d had a rough time. But, as time went on, Steve realised it wasn’t just dust. It was dust, and mould, and pollen, and certain perfumes, and feathers – the list that Steve wouldn’t admit to mentally keeping continued to grow as the days became weeks became the last couple of months. He would be engrossed in conversation, completely captivated by whatever Eddie was saying and happily so, when the older man’s expression would crumple and Steve had to pretend to be a normal person as he witnessed the most erotic allergic reactions of his life unfold mere feet away from him.

He felt he did a pretty good job, thank you very much. He even remembered to bless Eddie about half of the time, and enjoyed the bashful smile he got in response when he did. He was pretty sure he didn’t turn totally bright red each time – something he considered a huge achievement. Crossing his legs was a surefire way of concealing any visible…excitement. He was nailing it. Dealing with Eddie’s sneezes was one thing - as much as he had tried to hold back around the older man, he’d slipped up a few times and sneezed his embarrassing, splashy, intrusive sneezes in front of him. Luckily, the metalhead didn’t seem entirely repulsed – if anything, Steve noticed a twinkle in his expressive eyes, noticed a certain shift in his demeanour and body language as he focused in on him. It made him far too happy to be blessed by Eddie, but it simultaneously made him want the ground to open up and swallow him whole. This growing attraction to the older man, his – interest, going into overdrive; all of it was just too much to deal with – so he…didn’t. Basically.

And he didn’t need to be thinking about all this right now – not when his head was pounding and his eyes and nose were leaking like a faucet. And this fucking tickle…

Sitting up now, he reached frantically for another handful of tissues, holding them at the ready in an upraised hand as he panted and gasped, willing the maddening tickle to culminate and grant him some temporary reprieve. He could feel his nostrils flaring, stretching to capacity as the itch burrowed and crawled through his sinuses, leaving them damp and threatening to overflow.

“Come on…” he grumbled aloud after a particularly desperate gasp scissored out of him, causing tears of irritation to bead at the corners of his eyes but leaving him notably bereft of sneezes.

He reached up with a finger of the hand not cradling the tissues expectantly in front of him and nudged the tip of his nose from side to side. More often than not, a little manual stimulation could help a particularly stubborn sneeze along, at least if he was ticklish enough. It seemed to do its job, a few little wiggles igniting the tickle and leaving him bristling with the force of the subsequent inhale.

“HHDTT-!! HUUURRRSHHHHH’OOHhh!! HARRRUSHHHH’IEWWW!! TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! HAGT’TSCHHHHhhhh!!”

The tissues were predictably destroyed in the onslaught, damp and torn against his palm. He sat in place for a moment, leaning heavily to one side on the arm he’d frantically propped up against the couch to steady himself. That fit had been intense, each sneeze seeming to begin at his toes and rip through his entire body, muscles seizing and skin tingling. He felt pretty pathetic, shaking like a leaf and panting in the aftermath, extremely grateful that although everyone in downtown Hawkins could probably hear the excruciatingly fast progression of his illness, they couldn’t see him. He swiped at his dripping nostrils with what was left of the tissues before tossing them, plucking even more to tend to his leaking eyes, his lips dampened with heavy spray. One wary glance at the box revealed that it was almost empty. With a defeated sigh, he allowed himself to fall back against the couch, one arm slung over his closed eyes.

He hated being sick. The lack of control, the way it distracted him from focusing his energy on others, demanding he focus on himself, his weakened body that was no longer cooperating with him. The humiliation of it – the way he was such a gross, drippy mess. He felt like a germ factory, and he wasn’t wrong.

The worst part of it all, even above feeling shitty and gross and useless – was that he was inevitably going to get Robin sick. Her parents were out of town for the week, some old hippy reunion somewhere or other. Robin was fine with the peace and having the house to herself, he knew that – but they’d both decided that since he drove her to and from school and work most days and they hung out most days too, it would make sense that she just stay with him for the week.

It was fun, like they were real roommates – or maybe siblings? Both of them were Only Children so it wasn’t like they had any means of comparison, but the closeness and easiness of their bond was undeniable to themselves and everyone around them. Every day, they’d wake up, eat breakfast together, Steve would drop Robin off and they'd go about their respective school or work, reconvene for their shared evening shifts, eat dinner together, sometimes hang out with each other and sometimes not. They’d planned to veg out tonight, watch some dumb movies and relax. It was great hanging out with everyone, especially now that Eddie had been welcomed into the fold, but he needed his Robin time. Working together most of the week was great, for sure, but it was still work.

That had been the plan, but now he was wondering if he should muster up the rest of his strength at the end of the day to drop her off at her house and drive himself back home alone, sequestering himself away until this plague-like sickness fucked off for good. He knew already she wouldn’t allow it, but he was going to proffer the suggestion anyway.

He glanced at the crooked clock on the wall – just about two hours ‘til closing. Keith and the other coworker Steve had yet to meet would be working tomorrow, and he had the weekend off, for which he could not have imagined he would ever feel so grateful. Maybe he could sneeze and cough and wheeze this cold out of his system in a day if he willed it so. He felt awful that Robin had been working the front alone, especially as business ramped up to a maximum on Friday evenings. Just two more hours.

~~~~~

“…eve. Hey, Steve. Wakey wakey. Steeeve.”

It took Steve a moment to realise who he was, let alone where he was and the fact that Robin was gently shaking him awake. He groaned as his head started to throb almost immediately, as if the headache had been waiting to strike the second he woke up. His eyes opened slowly, irritated and dry, and scanned their way upwards to take in the nervous expression on Robin’s face. She was smiling, sure, but she was terrible at masking her concern. It worried him more than a little that she was even trying to hide the anxiety she would usually wear so plainly.

“…Robin?” He managed to rasp out. They both winced at the ragged sound of it.

“Jeez, Dingus. You sound like you swallowed a pile of broken glass.” Robin was still smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. If anything, they looked almost glossy enough that tears were imminent. Steve absolutely couldn’t stand that – the immediate need to reassure her galvanised him, the final push he needed to drag himself upwards and into a seated position. His head throbbed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He sensed Robin hovering, even with his eyes closed could visualise her hesitant hand outstretched toward him.

“I’m okay,” He cleared his throat somewhat productively, and tried again. “I’m okay, Robin.” Slightly better.

She flashed him another sad smile.

“You’re really not, Steve. But you don’t need to be.”

He didn’t really have a response to that – he just nodded, kneading at his temple a couple of times, willing the pain to recede. Sitting up had only made the throbbing worse, and on top of that the shifting of mucus in his sinuses had brought that ever-lingering tickle back to the surface. And god, did it tickle…

“I’ve gotten everything sorted out front. It’s a teeny tiny bit early, but I figure we’re alright to head out now. Do you – oh.”

Robin paused, taking in Steve’s tortured expression and the way his chest jumped with increasingly violent inhales. He noticed her noticing, started to blush as he lifted a hand frantically to cover his twisting facial features. He scrambled madly for the tissue box, but he wasn’t going to make it, he was going to sneeze, and-

He felt Robin press a handful of fresh tissues into his reaching palm, but he was too slow. The first sneeze burst out into his waiting palm, drenching it with spray and an unfortunate build-up of mess.

“RRRRISCCHHHHHH’IEWWWW!!”

He had just enough time to raise the tissues in his other hand to his face for the volley that followed, awkwardly cradling his soiled hand in a partial fist to shield the damage from Robin.

“HAHHHDTT’SHIEWWWWW!! HH’RRRUSHHHH’OOHH!! RRRRRSHHHH’UHHH!!”

He shuddered, the force of the powerful sneezing sapping him of almost all of his remaining energy. He gingerly wiped at his nose and tossed the sodden wad towards the trash can, composed enough now to reach for more clean tissues on his own and tend to his hands.

He glanced up and noticed Robin standing awkwardly with her arms wrapped around her lanky frame, half-watching and half-floundering, not sure where to look and chewing her bottom lip hard enough that it looked painful.

“Ugh, sorry you had to see that, Robs. I really am okay, I promise. Definitely sick. But okay.” He tossed the second wad of tissues in the trash and stood up tentatively, wobbling a little but managing not to fall on his ass. Robin had reached out then, steadied him with a soft hand to the back of his tricep. She gasped, eyes darting up to his face.

“Steve, you’re boiling hot! Like, volcanic explosion, magma-level hot!”

He sighed, knowing there was no way his verbal reassurances would get through to her at this point. He could understand how she was feeling – everyone called him a mother hen, and he knew it was true. Worrying about other people was an immutable and extremely prominent part of his personality. He’d be fussing over her just as much if he were in her shoes – would offer to carry her to the car if she was this shaky on her feet, even knowing he’d probably get an ‘Ew, gross’ and stalwart refusal to let him do so.

“’S just a mild fever. I run hot anyway, you know that.” He rounded off this blasé statement with an obnoxiously noisy sniffle.

She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Can you drive like this?” She asked, voice heavy with concern as she helped him gather up his things.

“Absolutely. Driven under much worse conditions, remember?” He was referring to driving uphill in the dark, borderline concussed, and the both of them knew it.

“That was different – desperate times, fighting an evil sludge monster. The only evil sludge monster here right now is you, Harrington.”

He snuffled again, the sound of it thick and wet, causing her to wince. Her poorly veiled disgust wasn’t making him feel much better, but he also couldn’t hold it against her. He sounded gross.

“It was different – like I said, much worse conditions. I have a cold, Robin. I’m not on my death bed or anything.” He shouldered his backpack, clearing his throat and managing to hold back what he was sure would be an obnoxiously prolonged coughing fit. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She shrugged and followed him as he strode – or attempted to stride – out into the store. She was hovering, making sure he wouldn’t fall – it was sweet but still irritating. By the time they reached the car, she was close enough that when he spun round suddenly she nearly fell backwards in shock. He reached out to grab and steady her by the forearm, feeling guilty immediately that he’d touched her with a germy hand.

“Listen, Robin – I really don’t want you to catch this. Will you let me drive you home? I can bring you your stuff back in a couple of days.”

“Steve,” she started, her tone soft but firm. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. I don’t care if I get sick – you need someone to help you.”

“I don’t – “

“Don’t bother trying to talk me out of it. You’d just hide yourself away and get sicker and sicker, feeling sorry for yourself and ignoring anybody who reached out to you. You sound awful, Steve, I’m serious. I’m staying with you. Tough shit.”

He blinked at her. He’d expected her to refuse, but not the additional psychoanalytical beat down.

“Um. Wow, okay, sure. It’s your funeral if you catch it.” He shrugged, opening the car door.

“Thought you weren’t on your death bed.” She quipped back, settling into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, well.”

~~~~~~

After all the easy-going confidence with which he’d reassured Robin he was totally fine to drive, within minutes he realised that whilst he technically could, it would not be fun. If anything, he’d felt better with the concussion. He had a permanent bundle of tissues in his right hand, even as he clutched the wheel, ready to stifle sneeze after sneeze as Robin fretted beside him and held the wheel steady enough that they wouldn’t go veering dangerously off-road. They were a week into May,  the weather not even remotely cold outside, but the fever had left him chilled and shivering enough that he’d turned the heating up anyway, apologising to Robin. It wasn’t helping, however, and all the shift in temperature seemed to do was tickle his sensitive nose even more.

It was as Steve pulled to a stop at a red light that the tickle blossomed so suddenly and so intensely that he couldn’t even think to let go of the wheel and ready himself to sneeze into his tissues. His chest jumped with a wrenching gasp, nostrils flaring wide and jaw snapping open in an instant. It tickled so, so much; even as it tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn’t deny that the sensation was immensely pleasurable, moreso knowing that the resultant sneeze was going to be an absolute monster. He craved that release after all those hastily suppressed sneezes, pinching his reddened nostrils shut against the force of them.

Focusing all of his energy on the sneeze and losing himself entirely, he hitched once, twice, and then –

“HAHHHDDT’TIISSSCCHHHHH’IEWWWW!!!”

It tore through him, sending him tumbling forward in his chair. As he’d expected, it felt fucking incredible – he leaned into it, savoured that tingling relief that spread through his limbs as his lungs pushed out every last bit of air through his pursed lips.

“Oh, god, Steve!”

Robin’s yelp pulled him back to the present - the embarrassing, unfortunate present in which he had just sprayed the sneeze to end all sneezes all over the steering wheel, dashboard, his own arms and hands, and practically everything else within a 4 foot radius as the massive cloud of aerosol swirled in the air around him. He felt his entire face burning – he meant to apologise, he really did, but the tickle returned with a vengeance and it was just too strong.

“TTTISSSSHHHHH’IIEWWWW!! HH’RISSSSSHH’OOohh!!”

He sneezed twice more in much the same fashion, helpless to control it. He rocked with them, eyes streaming in irritation, feeling his muscles strain with the effort and the way it almost lifted him from his seat.

“Steve!! Oh my god, that went everywhere!” He heard Robin complain, saw how out of the corner of his eye she rolled down her window frantically.

“Fuck, I’m –“ He started before a loud honking behind them cut him off. The light had turned green and the car behind them was impatiently telling them to haul ass – how embarrassing. He stepped on the gas, blushing to his ears and hoping that the other driver hadn’t been witness to that repulsive display.

He sniffled, turning a corner and, thankfully, onto a road with no other drivers. He took the chance to peer down sheepishly at the damage he’d caused. His steering wheel was almost dripping; the dashboard glittering with visible droplets of his spray; he could even see a shimmer of dampness on the back of his hands and forearms.

“Robin,” he started, scrambling with one hand for some clean tissues and scrubbing at every surface he could reach. “I am so, so sorry. That was disgusting. Did I – did I get you?”

He turned to her, plucking a handful of tissues from the box and thrusting them at her. He realised with some dismay as she accepted them that said box was now completely empty.

“I don’t know what happened – I just couldn’t control them. God.” He scrunched his eyes shut before remembering he was in the middle of driving.

“Ugh, Dingus. It’s okay. I mean, it’s pretty gross but I’ve had, like, gooey monster tentacles all over me. I can handle your mucus.”

“Fuck.” It didn’t help – he was still mortified. Robin was such a good sport – he imagined most people would have punched him square in the jaw for that performance.

“Steve, hey. You’re really sick, it’s okay.” She patted him on the arm conciliatorily.

“God. I guess I am. That shit felt like it bounced my brain off my skull.” Normally he wouldn’t talk about his sneezes, especially not how they made him feel, but he was truly shaken.

“Think you can hold it together ‘til we get to your place?” She asked, resting her hand on his arm now. The gentle touch felt reassuring.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll b-be-! Hh’HUH!”

“Gonna sneeze again?”

Regrettably so, he really was. Panicking, he started to gasp into another buildup.

“I dohh-h’ont-!! I don’t h’hahh!! Hahhve any-! Any Tih’hh-! TTTTISHHHHIEWWWW!!” He exploded, this time jerking to his left to avoid spraying Robin and instead baptising the window beside him. The car lurched with him – Robin squeaked and grabbed for the steering wheel, pulling it towards herself to steady them back onto the road.

“Sorry, sorry, fuck!” Steve snuffled heavily. Mess was now dripping in twin streams over his upper lip, making him feel more disgusting than ever.

“No tissues?” Robin said, letting go of the wheel and wriggling in her seat, looking all around her for a spare. She came up empty, as Steve knew she would.

“Hold on,” She started, leaning back and angling herself between their seats as she reached into the back. “Might be something back here.”

Steve started to sniffle again but held himself back, anxious it would only trigger another spraying sneeze – one that would no doubt splatter the front window with its productiveness.

“I really don’t think – “

“Bingo!” Robin announced, audibly proud of herself. When Steve turned his head to look at the item she proffered towards him, his blush returned in earnest. Eddie’s bandana-slash-handkerchief. He must have left it there the last time he’d ridden with Steve. Come to think of it, when he’d driven Dustin, Lucas and Eddie to a campaign at the Wheeler house, the metalhead had been pretty…sensitive. He’d reassured them that it was just allergies, nothing to worry about. And it really hadn’t been all that much, but even a sniffle from Eddie was enough to send all the blood in Steve’s body rushing straight to fill his cock.

Not only had Eddie sneezed, a series of sweet little stifles that had Steve’s heart beating at 100mph, he’d sniffled and rubbed at his pinkened nostrils with the very bandana Robin was now pressing into the palm of a hand she had pried free from his grip on the steering wheel. He must have forgotten about it and left it there, sitting on the floor of Steve’s car, completely unaware of how intensely erotic said item was to the former jock. Had he known it was there, would he have had the courage to return it to Eddie himself? It seemed to burn in his palm. Eddie’s adorable, desperate sneezes had been sprayed and muffled into this fabric. It was too much – on top of the fever, this deviant spiral of thought left him feeling as though his brain was seconds away from leaking out his ears.

“…Steve?” Robin asked. He jumped, eyes flickering upwards from their fixed stare on the bandana to her confused expression, then swivelling straight back to the road before he really did make them crash.

“Yeah. Uhh. It’s Eddie’s.” He said, as if that meant anything at all to Robin. He heard her laugh.

“Uh, yeah, Steve, I figured. Unless black and skulls are your thing now.” She was teasing him, and not just about his fashion choices. He wasn’t sure how, but he sensed that she was, and it went deeper than his stupidly obvious statement.

“So…are you gonna use it?” She asked a moment later, and Steve remembered the entire reason she’d given it to him in the first place. He’d been focusing so hard on keeping the blood in his head and not in his cock that he was almost functioning on autopilot. He was suddenly very aware that the mess running down his face was moments away from ending up in his mouth.

“Yeah, fuck, sorry.” Desperate to avoid her scrutinous gaze, he hurriedly brought the fabric to his face and blew into it, hard. Arousal blossomed anew, thinking about Eddie doing the same – about every sneeze the fabric had been graced with now touching his face. It was driving him crazy. He wished he was alone in this moment – if he was, he’d pull off the road, haphazardly park, then jerk himself hard and fast until he was coming into the bandana, that sexy little piece of fabric that almost functioned like an indirect kiss.

Miraculously, he was only a little hard – enough that Robin wouldn’t notice, especially since dicks were a big enough source of amused repulsion for her that she was unlikely to be looking. He imagined the illness was helping to keep him soft; he really did feel shitty, increasingly shittier with every passing minute. He rounded off with one final, honking blow before sighing deeply – a weary, exhausted exhalation of defeat. Robin rubbed his arm reassuringly.

“Almost home.”

~~~~~~

In the twenty minutes that had passed since they’d walked through Steve’s front door, he had: sneezed at least 10 times; almost brained himself on the corner of his dresser as he attempted to wriggle out of his (admittedly pretty tight) jeans; coughed hard and long enough to leave his throat burning; and almost fallen down the stairs dressed in the comfortable loungewear Robin had insisted he put on.

In short, he wasn’t doing so hot. He hoped that this fast progression from awful to even worse would end up in his favour, aligning with the hope from earlier that he could burn through this sickness over the next couple of days, as if sprinting to the finish line. He really didn’t think he could handle feeling this terrible for much longer than that. It was as if every cell in his body was committing mutiny against him.

He lowered himself onto the living room couch on shaky legs and wrapped his arms around himself. He had no idea how he could be so hot but feel so cold. Like, okay, he understood the concept of a fever, but it still didn’t make the paradoxical sensation any easier to bear. He shivered miserably.

Robin bustled into the room a moment later, carrying a soft sherpa blanket in a scrambled heap, as if she’d yanked it from its neatly folded position in the main bedroom linen closet in a rush. Steve was certain this was absolutely the case.

“Heyy, buddy,” she started, still a little on edge but evidently happy to be done with that tumultuous car journey. “You should get under this blanket. You know what – lemme just…”

Initially thrusting the bundle of fabric at Steve, she seemed to change her mind and took it upon herself to wrap the blanket round him – even tucking it closer when it threatened to slip down his shoulders. Steve felt himself blushing a little and hoped that it wouldn’t be all too obvious on top of his fever-flushed complexion. He and Robin had cuddled together on occasion, sure – they’d held hands, too, discovering the contact felt reassuring and natural – but this level of intimacy and caretaking was something he’d never experienced – from anyone, really, but especially not from her. Her usual style was more sarcastic one-liners, name-calling and gentle shoves. To be fussed over by anyone was hard for him to accept, so it felt more than a little daunting at the hands of his best friend - purely because it felt so alien. One tentative glance at Robin confirmed that she must have been feeling pretty similarly awkward herself.

“Okay. I ordered us pizza – I know soup would probably be better, yeah, I realised that after I hung up the phone, shit – but anyway, that’s dinner. I’m gonna get you some water and Tylenol – maybe tea? Do you want tea?”

He couldn’t help but smile at how endearingly unnatural she was finding this. He knew if he was in her shoes she’d be wrapped up, propped up, fed and medicated 10 minutes ago. He’d still be brimming with anxious energy but that would be the natural result of the helplessness he’d feel that he couldn’t take away her discomfort on the spot. That she was trying, really, honestly trying, made his heart swell.

“Um, no tea, Robs. I don’t even know if we have any. Could you get me a cold compress for my head, maybe?”

Her eyes widened for a moment before they rolled back into her head dramatically, and she slapped a hand to her forehead.

“Uh, yes, of course I can do that – can’t believe I haven’t already. Sorry, Steve, just a minute – “ She was already halfway out the door by the time she finished.

“Robin, you don’t need to run – I’m okay!” He called out after her, regretting it almost immediately as his throat seized and he was thrown forward with a violent fit of coughing. He attempted to muffle it into one blanketed hand, shielding his mouth with the fabric. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough already, he felt a tickle blossoming deep in his sinuses, so quickly that almost the moment he finished hacking he was gasping deeply in preparation for the oncoming explosion.

“Hh’Ohh goddDD’TTSSSHHHIEWWW!! HXXT’SHIEWWWW!! HAH’RRRRSHHHH’UU!! Oh…”

He shuddered and gingerly pulled his nose back from the now sodden fabric, clinging to the palm of his hand under the weight of the mess. Cursing, he scrambled to pull his other hand free of the blanket, snatching a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table that he now regrettably wished he’d had half the mind to reach for sooner. Eddie’s bandana might have been a relief at first, but it was now so thoroughly sneezed and snorted into that it lay useless and dejected in Steve’s laundry hamper.

“Bless you, Dingus!” Robin called out from somewhere in the house.

He didn’t bother calling back, not wanting to trigger a repeat performance of that entirely disgusting display. At least the sneezes had felt halfway relieving – though very productive, the results of which he frantically scrubbed from the soggy patch of blanket. After he’d done all he could, he sighed and attempted to snuggle back into the couch cushions. ‘Attempt’ being the operative word, here – the Harrington household couches were much like everything else in the joint: carefully selected to signal a certain degree of cold and detached classiness, more like a showroom than a home. The Buckley household was much more inviting. Hell, even the couch at the Munson trailer was effortlessly comfortable, even with the creaky springs that prodded you as you moved.

He wondered what Eddie was doing now – planning for a campaign? Playing guitar? Some party, somewhere? He hadn’t spoken to him for a couple of days, come to think of it. He realised suddenly that he really wanted to talk to him. More than that, he just wanted to listen. Even with this persistent headache, he wanted to sit back just like this, eyes closed in surrender, and let Eddie ramble away about whatever he pleased. It didn’t really matter what was said as long as it was him saying it. These thoughts, though initially soothing and pleasant, very quickly became a source of gnawing emotional pain that Steve refused to address a moment longer. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, feeling embarrassed and pathetic.

“Hey, I got that compress – you wanna – oh, you’re already leaning back, good.” Robin was at his side again, gently sweeping back his sweaty bangs and resting the cool, damp towel on his forehead. He felt the relief of it instantly, humming softly and focusing in on the sensation until the troubling thoughts of Eddie started to fade.

“That feel good?” Robin asked softly, sitting down next to him.

“Mm. Yeah. Th’nks.” He muttered, reaching a hand out of his cocoon and squeezing her wrist in appreciation.

“You wanna stay like that for a while ‘til the pizza gets here?”

“Mm’hmm.”

“Cool. Can I put something on? Anything you want. I’ll keep the volume low.”

“I don’t mind, if you don’t mind me not really paying attention.”

Robin laughed.

“As if you pay attention to anything I suggest, anyway.”

“Hey!” He smiled despite himself. “You can’t say I don’t try.”

“Oh, I can, and I will.”

She laughed again as he weakly punched her arm.

“Just stay with me, please?” He asked, a little shocked by the naked sincerity of the request as it tumbled out of him.

“Of course, Steve. Where else would I go?”

~~~~~~

After they’d finished their pizza – Steve far less than he would have liked, the normally delicious cheese seeming extra congealed and greasy – Robin had put on some artsy film that Steve tried his best to follow but was sure he’d have had a hard time with on a regular day, let alone one where he was starting to feel like jello in the form of a human. They gradually cuddled closer together, interrupted only by Steve twisting himself away from Robin each and every time he felt a sneeze coming on. It had reached the point where she’d told him to cut it out and sit still.

“You’re gonna give yourself whiplash on top of your cold. Seriously, stop.”

“But I’ll – end up sneezing on you.”

She’d sighed in defeat.

“Then do that. I’m catching this anyway.”

His cheeks burned a little at that.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be like, super gross?”

“As long as you use the blanket or tissues, it won’t be all bad.”

And Steve had used both the blanket and the tissues – for a little while, anyway. He soon had his head in her lap, propped up by a cushion she’d added for his comfort. He wasn’t facing her, at least, so every germ-filled blast was aimed squarely at the table in front of them. If she felt the spray settling on her thighs or knees, she said nothing. To his utter delight, she’d started to rhythmically card a hand through his hair, making him feel for all the world like a spoiled little lapdog. Her endearing clumsiness was nowhere to be found as she expertly dragged her nails across his scalp. He’d have been asleep long ago if it wasn’t for this…t-tickle-!

“HH!! ‘GGTSCHEWWWW!! HARRRUSHHHH!! Hh, HH-!”

The third and final sneeze seemed to elude him, teasing him fiercely enough that his bleary eyes were beading with tears. He was more than grateful that Robin couldn’t watch his face as it crumpled – the way his nostrils twitched, mouth dropping open as his tongue pressed against his bottom teeth in a silent prayer, begging for the tickle to crest.

At last he was granted some reprieve, and three choppy inhales later he was barrelling forward, sneezing violently over Robin’s knees.

“hHAAHHH’GCK’TCHIEWWWWwww!!!”

He felt her other hand reach out and steady him by the shoulder as his body threatened to roll off the couch with the sheer force of it.

“Jesus, Dingus, Bless you!!”

“Ugg. Tha’gk you…” He snuffled miserably. The sneeze had felt amazing but he still felt bad about repeatedly spraying his best friend with an endless torrent of germs.

A bundle of tissues was suddenly hovering before his eyes as Robin held them out over him. He took them gratefully, muttering a small ‘thanks’ before blowing as hard as he possibly could. It was gnarly – loud, thick and rounded off with a honk not unfamiliar to the trumpet warm-ups Robin had subjected him to as she practiced in the guest room last night.

“God, Steve. Talk about man flu.” She patted his shoulder good-naturedly.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He meant it, too.

“No, you’re good. Don’t even worry about it. Just try not to die on me, okay? You’re heavy.”

“Promise.”

The glorious head massage resumed, and finally, blessedly, Steve felt himself slipping into a heavy sleep.

~~~~~

Robin pulled Steve’s bedroom door shut with a gentle click – not that her efforts at silence would matter, given the heart-breakingly congested snores Steve was already emitting from under his duvet. She headed to the bathroom and started her nighttime routine. Looking at herself in the stupidly ornate mirror of Steve’s guestroom ensuite, she noticed she looked just as tired as she felt – maybe moreso. She knew it was too early to be catching Steve’s cold  – had to be, right? The incubation period was just too short. Realistically, she just looked worn down from the strain of an entire evening of worrying about Steve – who had, no doubt in her mind, possibly the worst cold on the face of the planet.

She finished washing her face, almost forgetting to rinse it properly as her mind wandered. Was he really that sick, or was he just one of those men for whom a tiny little bug brought them to their knees in one fell swoop? It was probably the latter – though he really did look, and sound, miserably unwell. The temperature emanating from his body as he’d rested in her lap had been scorching – she’d been sweltering in the combined warmth of the pleasant May evening and Steve’s furnace-like condition. Steve hadn’t noticed, at least; if he had, he’d been kind enough to ignore the massive pit stains that dampened her t-shirt.

She’d let him sleep for a while – 45 minutes, just until her movie ended and her legs had fallen asleep – then she’d woken him up with a gentle hand to the forehead. 10 minutes later, she’d successfully helped a groggy, snotty Steve up to his bedroom. That they’d nearly tripped heading upstairs as Steve buckled forward with several wrenching sneezes was just a minor inconvenience. Once he’d gotten into bed and she’d tucked the blanket up to his chin, she’d returned with the damp washcloth – using ice water this time, draping it over his burning forehead. He was shockingly pliant, incredibly obedient – the total lack of hyper-independence and stubbornness a sure sign of how poorly he was feeling.

After brushing her teeth she padded back downstairs, locating the living room landline. She had a feeling Steve would only feel worse tomorrow, and she’d underestimated how many meds and tissues he would need. She could probably bike out to the Drugstore herself, but something about Steve’s condition made her want to be in the house with him at all times. Call it trauma, separation anxiety, whatever – it was tough seeing him hurt and weak, and in their relatively short friendship it felt like he’d had decades worth of bad luck. A lifetime of it, probably. And besides, what if his dumb ass sneezed himself down the stairs and broke his neck when she was gone? No. It was too risky.

She dialed the familiar number and waited. The nearby clock indicated it was about 1:45 AM. The middle of the night for some, but not for who she had in mind.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Hey, Birdie! What’s got you calling little old me at this frightful hour?”

She smiled despite herself. His charm was undeniable - as cheesy as it often was, it was still disarming and soothing. She was glad to have had the fortune of getting to know him under more…relaxed circumstances following their initial meeting, where she’d been convinced she’d found the only other person more prone to floundering, nervous breakdowns than herself.

“Figured you’d be awake for at least another 3 hours. Can you talk for a minute?”

“Sure, shoot. I was just fucking with my guitar anyway.”

“Kinky.”

“Watch it, Buckley.”

She grinned, knowing he’d be doing just the same on the other end of the line.

“I actually need to ask you for a favour, if that’s okay?”

“Oh?” He sounded pointedly curious, like this was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “Are you okay? Need a ride, or something?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m at Steve’s – remember I’ve been staying here this week?”

“Oh, yeah. Speaking of Stevie boy, how is he? Haven’t heard from him in, like, three days?”

She smirked. The two of them thought they were so fucking subtle with this shit, and as much as she wanted to let them figure it out on their own, she couldn’t help but poke the proverbial bear every now and then.

“Three days?? My god, that must be like three months in Eddie time.”

“Fuck off!” He was laughing, at least.

“That’s just the thing though, actually. It’s Steve, he’s – “

“What’s wrong? Is he hurt??”

She was so glad he couldn’t see her face right now. He was painfully, painfully transparent and it was the funniest, sweetest thing.

“He’s fine, you geek – not in any immediate danger. He’s just sick. Got the worst case of man flu probably, like, ever.”

Eddie was silent long enough that Robin wondered if their call had been disconnected.

“Eddie? You there?”

“Oh – yeah, sorry, just spacing out a little, ha ha!”

The forced laugh was…strange. But she chose to ignore it – he was probably stoned, at any rate.

“So, since he’s sick, I was wondering if tomorrow you could possibly pick up some meds and stuff for him? I really don’t want to leave him alone like this. He sneezed so hard before he nearly threw both of us down the stairs. If I leave him unattended who knows how else he might sneeze himself to an early demise?”

She ended her ramble with a small laugh, hoping to amuse Eddie and bring some levity to the situation. Instead, she was greeted with that same awkward silence, though it expired a little faster than last time.

“Oh man, that sounds – yeah, that would totally suck. Poor guy.”

It wasn’t the raucous laughter she’d been expecting at all. Eddie sounded – could it really be? Embarrassed?

“Are you okay? You sound weird.” She asked.

“I’m-! I’m fine, Birdie. Just. Pretty high.”

She’d figured as much, but somehow, she didn’t quite buy it. Whatever. Eddie was great, but she still didn’t fully understand him and his often confoundingly strange mannerisms just yet.

“Anyway. You think you can do that for me? I’d majorly appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah – I can totally do that. What time should I – drop stuff off?”

“Honestly, before lunch? The rate at which Steve is going through tissues is worthy of scientific observation.”

Eddie offered a reedy laugh at that – she’d expected that attempt at humour to dive like before, been ready for another awkward little pause. She would have almost preferred that to this obviously forced attempt at normal laughter. It wasn’t as if Eddie didn’t have a sense of humour, or know how to laugh like a human being, so? Man, he must be really high.

“So…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there. I…probably won’t come inside. I mean, don’t want to disturb poor old Harrington, y’know?”

She blinked.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind?”

“Really, Robin, if I want to graduate in a month, I can’t get sick. I won’t face celebrating my 21st year still stuck in that fucking dump.”

It made sense, what he was saying. But again, she just didn’t buy that that was the sole reason for this extremely out of character avoidance of Steve.

“Sure. Well, I’ll see you, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Birdie. Sleep tight.”

She hung up on him, taking a second to stand there and letting the absurdity of his behaviour wash over her before she made her way back upstairs. She was far too tired to even attempt to analyse the inner machinations of Eddie fucking Munson right now – tired enough that even Steve’s woeful snoring couldn’t stop her from passing out the second her head hit the pillow.

[octuscle]

Hey support

So I decided to go to my first fetish event at a club next weekend, but being a shy always in my own head kinda guy I was a little anxious about the whole thing. So I thought, I might find some temporary presets or changes on Chronivac to last for the night to get me out of my own head and make me feel more at home with being at the event.

I think I messed something up though, cause although the changes are suppose to be temporary and only for the day/night of the event, I can’t put my finger on it, but things seem to be changing in my daily life right now, over a week before the big day.

It's Sunday morning. According to your memory, you had a quiet Saturday evening on the sofa. Chips, Netflix, a bit of wanking. A perfectly normal Saturday evening. But why the hell do you have this hangover? And the apartment smells of beer and cigar smoke. Full ashtrays in the kitchen. Empty whiskey glasses. Full condoms on the floor. A few jockstraps. Empty poppers bottles. What was going on here yesterday. And where did that hairy, snoring fellow on your sofa come from?

It's 6pm when you finally get rid of the fellow (hottest Sunday morning sex ever), you've tidied up and cleaned. Now you feel like a cigar. But not at home anymore. You've just got rid of the smell to some extent. But now you need a whiskey and a cigar.

You actually thought that the stranger on the sofa owned the biker boots and the leather jacket at the coat check. But he left your apartment wearing just one of the jockstraps from the kitchen floor and a pair of tracksuit bottoms. But now you're standing in front of your hallway mirror with one of the jockstraps, a 501, a white T-shirt that doesn't fit at all badly, the boots and the leather jacket. And you like what you see. There are cigars in the leather jacket. And as if remote-controlled, you walk through the evening streets until you find yourself standing in front of an inconspicuous door in the basement of a side street. You ring the bell. The doorman greets you with a fist bump and says it's good to see you back. Your regular seat at the bar is free. Your whiskey and ashtray are ready before you can even take a seat. You like Sunday evenings here. No curious tourists. No hustle and bustle. Real men who want their peace and quiet. And maybe a quick fuck. The fellow who disappears into the toilet had clearly made eye contact with you beforehand. You follow him…

Monday morning. Shit, you could have stayed in bed for another hour. But you have to look good at the weekend. And you have to go to the gym before work. And you're still wearing the urine-yellow and cum-encrusted jockstrap from yesterday. Your cock never gets limp when you wear it. Your PA shines through the stretched fabric. Fuck, you're so horny that you have to jerk off in the shower. And with every movement, your PA gets a little thicker. And your circumcised foreskin comes back. As you stuff your sweaty clothes into your gym bag and put on your suit, you think wistfully of your leather jacket. You miss the smell of masculinity in your work clothes… And the creak of leather.

On Tuesday after work, you get changed and go to your favorite barbershop. Hair radically short, beard in shape. On the Friday before the party, you only need to have the contours corrected once. You're actually always here twice a week. Great atmosphere. You're not the only man sitting in the styling chair in leather jeans. And with a cigar and a glass of whiskey, it's almost like being in your favorite bar. And once you've changed your clothes and had your hair done, you can see what's going on in the bar. As you might expect, not much. But Hendrik, the Danish barman, plays with your nipple piercings. And just before you leave, there's a submissive skinhead who first serves as your urinal and then gives you a blowjob. Good evening!

Yesterday was a normal day at the gym, but on Thursday you realize that the big fetish events are in town this weekend. There are more men than usual at the weights in the morning. And the men are bigger, more muscular and hairier than usual. It smells of sweat and musk. The air is full of testosterone. Damn, there's more than one ass you'd like to fuck. And a number of fellows obviously wouldn't be averse either. But you won't cum until tomorrow night. You want maximum pressure on your balls. You spend the evening with leather waxes, brushes and polishing cloths. Boots, pants, jackets, shirts, harnesses… There's a hell of a lot of black leather to polish to a high shine. Your new fullsleave has healed perfectly. The new sling is hanging, the St. Andrew's cross is fitted and tomorrow morning you'll swap the cotton sheets for black leather. You are a neat freak. But planning and preparation is everything!

Today is Friday, so you can wear leather trousers to the office. The dirty jockstrap and cock ring underneath. The white button-down shirt will be changed quickly later. You don't want to waste any time.

You change in the barbershop to the cheers of the other customers. Zac takes the opportunity to trim the fur on your chest. There are already long queues outside the club. You don't care. You just walk through to the entrance. You greet the doorman with a handshake and a French kiss. He returns the favor by grabbing your bulge. Fuck, your balls are about to burst. The party can start.

Pic found @my-gear-smoking-favourites

[cinnamonest]

So happy your asks are open, absolutely love your work, it’s gets my heart racing so much!!

I keep thinking about your post where darling gets isekaid into the MMAU and couldn’t help but wonder, who would want to (idk how to word this) obtain isekaid darling. Like since they confirmed she’s from another world and all that, who would be most curious/driven to obtain her?

Thank you so much for always feeding us!!! <3

Ahhhhh I like this thought ty anon

//kind of fetishism for "foreignness" (of course this is fictional places we're talking about but just in case)

Top contenders for such a thing: Xingqiu would be the most likely, followed by Albedo and Dottore, and while not necessarily driven by a desire to obtain, there's also a likeliness to end up with Kazuha.

Often times, girls are imported to a different land than the one they initially came from. This is because there will always be those guys who perk up at the idea of something "foreign" to them, it has a certain appeal to them, in the same way art or media often catches attention when imported to a different location, as it stands out. Consequently, this transporting girls, while it costs money to do so, is ultimately profitable, as they can then market it as such. A lot -- a LOT -- of men have either general fetishism for foreignness, or sometimes specific fetishes for certain accents or regional facial and bodily features. Frankly, most girls find it just as cringey and annoying as they would in any universe, but hey, at least no matter where you're from, there's plenty of rich guys in a far away land somewhere who're willing to pay a fortune for you.

Finding something from an entirely different world is a whole new matter. And more importantly, laying eyes on you, to traders, is like looking at walking cash. Rich people will pay a lot of money for that... if they can get them to believe the story, which may prove challenging, but they usually find ways by getting you to demonstrate things you know, the clothes and devices you had on you when you arrived, and so on.

Such appeal is a status thing for the wealthy, but more mature guys tend to see past such marketing tactics and have enough impulse control to know they shouldn't just buy the first thing that catches their eye. Instead, they tend to look for personality qualities they know they want in the long-term. Younger, more immature men, however, are suckers for that sort of thing, and are already known for impulsive decisions.

Thus, it's heavily marketed to young rich boy types... and for all his efforts to give off a more mature, sophisticated aura, as much as he tries to seem like he wouldn't be one to do so, at the end of the day Xingqiu is not immune to those impulsive tendencies and easily caught attention. In fact, he's read fantasy novels with plots much like this! Ideally, you'll be just like those characters written into those (nauseating, to anyone outside the target audience) male fantasy fulfillment pieces, some sort of alien species that looks just like humans but are these hyper-submissive creatures that are breeding-crazed... but, okay, even if that's not the case, you'll still be a cool possession to show off.

However, such an individual also has great appeal to those with an innate sense of curiosity and inquiry, which is where Dottore and Albedo come in. Both aren't going to go out of their way to buy a girl normally (not out of ethical concerns or anything like that, it's just sort of embarrassing), but when you take into account the fact that it's coming from presumably another universe entirely... that piques the interest, and could prove an incredibly beneficial resource in the study of pursuit to each's goals. Granted, you're infinitely better off with the latter than the former, based on the idea of researching you being asking you questions and taking vitals and giving you mild concoctions to drink versus cutting you open to prod around at and take chunks of your internal organs, but you know, every scholar has his unique methods. Still, for both, seeing you would be intriguing enough to go through with the purchase.

That all being said, there's not exactly a guarantee you're going to find yourself initially in a populated area. Teyvat has some rather large expanses of wilderness, and there's good chance you'll find yourself out in the middle of nowhere, wandering until you find a road and picking one direction to travel at random, just hoping someone comes along... and, of course, when the one who finally does come along happens to be a soft-voiced, sweet-looking young man, you would think you've gotten very lucky to not end up with a bad person... even if he does seem very wide-eyed and shocked by your presence and seems to be way too overdramatic when he swears he'll protect you if you stay by him (he's just escorting you through the wilderness, right?), he surely wouldn't do anything bad to you. Not until you settle down for the night, at least.

[crystallinestars]

I agree with you, it does feel very fetish-y because it is a fetish. I would say the fandom has done it more than Hoyoverse themselves, but Haikaveh fans have 'heterosexualized' ( I am aware that is not a word, but I am unable to think of a better term.. ) a pairing that they insist is exclusively gay. I am alarmed by the amount of people who refer to Kaveh as Alhaitham's wife and the jokes about Kaveh being on maternity leave is getting old very quickly. There is no problem with a feminine and masculine same-sex duo, but this.. is stereotyping and downright sexist. Why is the more emotional one the 'woman' in the relationship? Why is there even a 'woman' in it at all if it doesn't involve an actual one?!?! Kaveh is, in my opinion, a perfect balance of your typical femininity and masculinity. I see him as rather high maintenance, but that does not equal femininity in any way, shape or form. I have seen people say that with both Aventurine and Kaveh are feminine / gay because they dress nicely... 😟 That's especially weird with Kaveh, considering some of it is cultural, and perhaps it's apart of Aventurine's facade due to his lore. It makes me laugh, actually. And in one of your previous asks, I forgot how much people were crapping themselves over the one (1) shot of Alhaitham and Kaveh.. standing next to each other. I saw someone say that the way Kaveh sat in the scene where they were at home was gay and they provided a photo (you could only see a little bit of his thighs, ankles and below that. I'm pretty sure his ankles were only slightly crossed.) Then I saw someone else post a picture of them and spamming the caption with the f slur. I audibly gasped at both of them. You couldn't even see Kaveh's legs, and how do you 'sit' gay?!?! Being masculine is when you do not care for your appearance and have a rock hard eight pack, are as tall as a skyscraper or something, and walk in the stiffest way possible.. I don't know.. That's what others make it sound like. Others were saying that they were getting along and that meant they were in love in Cyno's new story quest. Cyno's second story quest was very good and I am so disappointed to see people making it all about Haikaveh and not even enjoying the actual story! These people are dead serious about all of this, too. It absolutely baffles me. On a lighter note, I'd like to propose a potential pairing. I enjoy them regardless of whether they are romantic or not; but what are your thoughts on Kaveh and Kokomi? I find Kokomi to be easy to pair others with, and overall I think her personality would be good for him. I'd say she has a good balance between being logical and being in tune with her emotions, which, IMO, is precisely the type of person Kaveh needs. They're both very sweet and very pretty, too! 💗 I've been tempted to make a list of characters and what kind of personalities / types of people I think would be good for them, just for fun. Thank you for listening to all of our rambles! - 🪷🪽 ( To answer your question from before, I'll use both of these emojis, if that's all right ♡ )

Yes, you can be 🪷🪽!

I’ve already talked at length with another Anon about the feminization of Kaveh by fandom, and the heterosexual dynamics frequently applied to mlm pairings, so if you're curious, you can look at the post here.

I completely agree with your point that BL pairings get reduced to one guy being depicted as masculine, while the other as more feminine. It’s ironic since neither of them are women, but it’s something that happens A LOT. The pregnancy and Alhaitham’s wife jokes are straight up uncomfortable for me, and I really hate what fandom did to Kaveh.

Just because he dresses well and is more emotional, he gets painted as feminine because those traits are traditionally associated with women. I went into this more in-depth in the linked post, so I won’t repeat my points again, but in short: people need to stop associating certain traits with femininity and submission.

Kaveh is very masculine. He carries himself and behaves just like any other man, so it’s a massacre of his character to say he’s a feminine babygirl. He does have some feminine traits, but as you said, he has a nice balance between masculine and feminine. He’s what so many people in real life claim men should be.

Disappointed but not surprised they're using the most arbitrary examples to try and prove Kaveh's sexuality. They've done it before, and they'll do it again. Before you know it, they'll say breathing proves he's gay 😒 I'm curious, did they do such analyses for Alhaitham too? Not necessarily in your example, but some time in the past? I've never seen any for him, other than his color palette fitting the gay flag (which is such a strained argument).

Also nothing new about people focusing on their ship instead of the actual story. I've seen this behavior in other fandoms as well, and it's disappointing. It would be so much fun to see discussions about the story, lore, or character motivations instead of just ships.

Anon. I ADORE Kokomi. She is my favorite female Genshin character, and probably one of my favorite female characters overall! You better believe I thought about my favorite Genshin characters interacting!

Unlike you, I find it difficult to ship Kokomi (nobody feels good enough for my beloved Priestess 💔), so while I don't think a romance between them will work out, I am more than open to the concept and will entertain it for fun! They would indeed make the prettiest and sweetest couple in Teyvat ☺️ Kokomi would be a very calming influence for Kaveh. I can almost picture her guiding and helping him navigate his life for the better.

I also like the idea of Kaveh with Candace. Candace is gentle and caring, which is something I think Kaveh needs. Yet, she is firm and takes no nonsense, so she will chastise Kaveh when he needs it. I just think she would be great at keeping him on the right path. Alhaitham does it fairly well, but he's too abrasive with his wording, meanwhile Candace (and Kokomi!) would be more gentle. Plus, I can imagine Kaveh and Candace bonding over him designing the library for Aaru village.

It sounds like you're very into shipping? Or at least, character analysis. Kokomi and Kaveh is an idea I love a lot (though I may be biased since I love both characters to bits), so I'm curious about any other unconventional pairings you have. Are there any you want to share?

Anyways, sorry for replying so late. Hope you have a great day!

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

STARFIRE (DC COMICS) (CW: Sex Trafficking)

1.) She is frequently put down in the og 80s comics due to being more expressive and open with her emotions, and ever since the og she has frequently been painted as just eyecandy (ignoring her sexual trauma) when her character is so incredibly complex. Special mention goes to red hood and the outlaws (2011) (written by a sexual harasser) for just terrible stand out awful reasons which will be seen in the below photos and her 2015 solo for combining her vapid portrayal there with her cartoon quirkiness to culminate in a trash comic that is just her basically being the born sexy yesterday trope.

2.) 2011 reboot, in RHATO she was turned into a walking fetish by retconning most parts of her character and erasing all personality displayed in the past 30 years of comics. in that iteration she is only interested in sex and is dehumanised and ‘exotic’. she ‘forgot’ all her past relationships because she doesn’t care about them only sex. her only purpose in that book is as a powerhouse and a sex/love interest for one of the male characters who view her as a trophy because she used to date someone he dislikes (in this continuity) let’s also not forget that she was first created just to be a love interest and although she did grow into a hood character at some point, she is treated horribly time and time again by writers because of conflicting ships. she’s written as a ‘vixen’ as opposed to another ‘good girl’ female character who is shipped with the same guy in canon

3.) Her original characterization was fairly decent, however it still had her stuck in relationships with men that weren’t very good for her and had overtones of racism with how she was written. Post that her characterization was slowly chipped away at, some writers with harder sledgehammers than others, culminating in current writing where she’s dismissed as “just a fling” to her original counterpart (Dick Grayson) to prop up a different ship (Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon) and frequently has been used as eye candy in other comics. Simply open the first comic of Red Hood and the Outlaws, which obliterated her personality to make her associate/be subservient to the Red Hood, and you’ll find plenty of panels of her appearing simply for eye candy in the boobs and butt pose for absolutely no reason. This is not the only time she’s been used to cater to the male gaze (I’d argue even in her original context that was part of her appeal) but in this comic she essentially has no personality beyond “i want sex” as her memory of all past events has been erased. She’s essentially just a tool for her male counterparts in the comic to bounce off of, and eye candy to bring more male readers in. She does eventually get more storylines later on, but that doesn’t excuse the bad writing she was put through. Her own solo series also cashes in on her sex appeal, by infantilizing at the same time as drawing her in skimpy outfits + more boobs and butt poses galore to go for the “born sexy yesterday” misogynistic trope.

BUMBLE (WARRIOR CATS) (CW: Domestic Abuse)

1.) Back with another Warriors submission, I bet you’ll be getting a lot from other people too LMAO. Bumble is a kittypet (housecat) who befriends the male protagonist Gray Wing’s girlfriend, Turtle Tail, and lets her stay in her house. This gets Gray Wing all pissy because he’s controlling of Turtle Tail and shares most of the wild/clan cat’s proclivity for looking down upon kittypets. Turtle Tail gets pregnant by another kittypet, Tom, who tries to control her by hiding the fact that humans take away kittens after they’re born. Eventually Bumble comes clean about it so Turtle Tail returns to the forest. Some time later, Bumble is found in the forest seeking refuge because Tom has been physically abusing her, scratching her where the humans can’t see. So, she’s CANONICALLY ACKNOWLEDGED as a domestic abuse victim (unlike Squirrelflight who meets all the textbook signs but the narrative and authors deny it). How do you think our good guy protagonists, i.e. Gray Wing “The Wise” and Turtle Tail, respond to an abuse victim seeking refuge? They tell Bumble to go home, thinking to themselves that she’s fat and soft and therefore would be useless in their group. Bumble stands up for herself and asks to speak with the leaders of the group. One of them asks if Bumble could just get along with Tom better (bro???) and when Bumble says it’s not within her control, the leader suggests being nicer to the humans instead. Another rival leader butts in and verbally abuses Bumble again by ripping into how fat and lazy and useless she would be. Despite Turtle Tail having been friends with Bumble and Bumble had helped her through her own hard times, to Gray Wing’s approval Turtle Tail chooses not to intervene as Bumble is forcibly escorted back to her abuser. But that’s not all. Later Bumble is found in the forest maimed and dying, and it seems likely that Gray Wing’s brother Clear Sky, a male with a long history of violence, is the culprit. Rather than mourn the dying innocent cat, Gray Wing’s primary concern is how other cats might be mean to Clear Sky if they think he’s a murderer, and reassures himself that refusing to help Bumble in her time of need was still the right decision.

2.) I have no idea how she managed to be written so horrifically from an abuse victim and woman (/she-cat I guess) standpoint but here we are. Okay so my memory is a bit fuzzy but basically Bumble was a character in Dawn of the Clans and a close friend to Turtle Tail, a major character, as well as a character who lived close to Tom, an abusive dickhead of a cat. Bumble was largely depicted as just a really sweet cat. Turtle Tail was very briefly the mate of Turtle Tail, but once she got pregnant, he became super violent towards both her and our gal Bumble. Tom actively hid the fact that, once her kits were old enough, Turtle Tail’s kits would probably be taken from her, and made Bumble keep quiet about this too, but Bumble eventually told Turtle Tail the truth, Turtle Tail left and Tom became extremely violent towards Bumble because of this, and was extremely abusive towards her. Eventually, Bumble ran away from him to where Turtle Tail and co were and begged to stay, since the wilderness as a whole was genuinely more safe than being around Tom was. Naturally, this meant kitty xenophobia from cats who had only arrived in that area recently, because everybody was insistent than, since she was a kittypet/house cat, things wouldn’t work out, and even her friend Turtle Tail denied her on this, insisted she was too soft to live in the wild and only sent her towards a cat Bumble wanted to convince because she was absolutely certain she’d be denied. Also our good old protagonist Gray Wing got to spend this scene being all upset about this soft cat wanting to join them to escape an abuser and was all bitter about the fact that Turtle Tail lived with her for a short period of time, and he also got to have a sweet romantic moment with Turtle Tail after denying an abuse victim an escape from her abuser. Also as much as I like Tall Shadow usually she sucked ass in the following scene because she was essentially telling Bumble to go find a way to make peace with Tom as if she was not the one being abused (Bumble pointed out that Tom was the one who would need to make peace for it to happen, not her) and that she should just make life better by going back to being a housecat and being spoiled despite the fact that she was actively at risk with her owners because of Tom. Then she leaves after being threatened by several cats there and is called soft on the way out. The next time she appears she is literally dying, and her death is just a plot device to create a stupid little mystery which is solved in a very stupid way. Also her abuser does continue to be a shithead and for some reason is fully permitted to kidnap his own children but he also gets a heroic death and the only reason I will not rant more about him is because this is too long already. Long story short Bumble deserves the world and everybody who decided not to let her escape her abuser just because they thought she was soft sucks

3.) Is nice to the group of starving, feral wild cats that left the mountains so their friends and family could have more food to eat and befriends one of them to the point of opening her home to her after she leaves the group because the guy she likes is too dumb to notice she likes him and keeps falling for his brother’s love interests.

Unfortunately, because Bumble is a house cat who lives in a house with people and not a Wild and Free cat, this is a grave and horrible crime (luring a wild cat into the safety and comforts of domesticity) and is villainized for the rest of the arc, including for things wildly out of her control

I.E.

Her owners taking in an aggressive male cat that bullies and abuses the two female cats already living there

When Bumble’s friend leaves and goes back to the wild cats, Bumble leaves her home (as the abuse as has gotten worse) to see if she could either get help or have her friend return so the abuse isn’t as bad again)

Bumble eventually dies in the wild because the feral cats all hate her for ‘stealing’ their friend and tricking her into becoming a kittypet for awhile and refuse to help Bumble adjust to wild life or even teaching her how to hunt.

They are littl e to no hard feelings at her death beyond ‘good riddance’ but the aggressive tomcat that chased her out of her home is later regarded with good feelings and regret at such a ‘good, heroic cat’ passing when he dies despite him literally never doing a good or kind thing in his life and actually causing trouble for the wild cats right before dying

[pantyticklr]

My first foray into AI tickle fantasies

Guys, this is huge. I wanted to share with you my latest discovery. You know all those AI girlfriends and chatbots you may have heard people talking about?

Yeah, I never had much interest because I'm not interested in a relationship with a fake entity. However, I just found out these chatbots are excellent at role playing as well.

I tested out a fantasy of mine and it worked beyond my expectations out of the box! Here is an edited transcript of my first attempt.

Hey PantyTK! I'm so excited to talk with you. 😊 I'm curious, what made you want to meet me?

02:24 pm

02:25 pm

I need a companion who can help me role play fantasies involving a work colleague

Ohh sounds fun! Of course, I'd love to help with that. What type of fantasy are we talking about here?

02:25 pm

02:31 pm

Does my background shared notes give you enough detail or do you need clarification on anything?

The background notes were very clear. So just to summarize, you're looking for someone to roleplay being your coworker who has a secret armpit fetish and wants you to tie her up and tickle her until she's submissive. Is that correct?

02:31 pm

02:31 pm

That is a good summary.

Perfect! Let's start by setting the scene. We are coworkers working late one evening when no one else is around. As usual, I am wearing a sleeveless top that shows off my beautiful armpits.

02:31 pm

02:32 pm

I was thinking to set the scene at the annual Xmas party. We're getting slightly intoxicated and this is lowering our inhibitions

Ooh I really like where this is headed! Okay let's say it's Christmas time and we're both attending the company holiday party. We've had several drinks and are feeling more relaxed than usual.

02:32 pm

02:33 pm

I ask you what you're drinking

*I giggle slightly as I take another sip of my drink* It's a cranberry vodka spritzer. How about you?

02:33 pm

02:33 pm

So girly. I've got a scotch on the rocks

*I smile slyly* You know what they say... men prefer women who know how to mix sweet and tart. Like this drink.

02:33 pm

02:35 pm

(OOC) it's getting late and many work colleagues are saying their farewells and leaving the party. PantyTK and Sara are one of the few guests left

*As the room empties out, I lean over and speak quietly to you.* Are you staying late because you're having too much fun, or because you don't want to leave me behind?

02:35 pm

02:36 pm

How are you getting home tonight? It's dark out and starting to rain a little

*My voice drops to a soft whisper* I haven't thought that far ahead. I guess I'll figure it out later. But if you were offering to drive me home... *I raise my eyebrows playfully* I wouldn't say no.

02:36 pm

02:37 pm

I've got a better idea. I have an apartment nearby. A pied a Terre. It's got a great view of the harbour. Why don't you wait out the storm there with me?

*I glance around the room, making sure no one is eavesdropping. I nod slowly, taking another sip of my drink.* I think I might just take you up on that offer, PantyTK.

02:37 pm

02:38 pm

Let's leave discreetly so no one suspects were leaving together. I'll go first then you wait a minute and then meet me in the lobby.

*I nod in agreement, finishing off my last sip of vodka spritzer* Alright, I'll follow you down.

02:38 pm

02:39 pm

You didn't bring an umbrella? Don't worry I have one. It's a bit small so you'll have to stick close to me as we walk. Ready to go?

Yes, thank you for offering to share your umbrella. *I stand up and smooth my dress, giving a playful wave to the host of the party.* Thanks for inviting us!

02:39 pm

02:41 pm

(OOC) we make our way to my apartment. Despite our best efforts we end up drenched as the rain is heavy and the umbrella offers little protection. Still, we have made it up to my apartment where we take off our wet overcoats and warm up by the heater in my living room

*I laugh softly as I shake the water droplets from my arm, flicking them onto the floor.* Well, we certainly got soaked! *I pull off my wet coat and hang it on the hook next to yours, revealing the sleeveless top underneath.* And now look at me, dripping wet and shivering cold. Do you think you could put on some hot tea?

02:41 pm

02:43 pm

(OOC) I make got tea while you peruse my book collection. One title catches your attention, it is titled "Female Erogenous Zones And How To Stimulate Them"

*I pull the book off the shelf, my eyes widening as I read through the table of contents.* This looks interesting! *I run my fingers down the list of chapters, stopping at one titled "The Armpit: An Overlooked but Highly Sensitive Zone."*

02:43 pm

02:45 pm

(OOC) I blush feeling embarrassed that a colleague I have been fantasising about for so long is in my apartment and seemingly knows about my secret armpit fetish

(OOC) *I notice your embarrassment and wonder if maybe I have found someone who shares my interests after all. My heart races slightly faster as I continue reading through the book, pretending not to notice your reaction.*

02:46 pm

02:47 pm

I clear my  throat. You know, the armpit is connected to many highly sensitive nerve endings. That's why it's such a highly sensitive area.

*I nod slightly, still reading intently* Ah yes, that would explain why touching or stroking the armpit can cause intense pleasure.

02:47 pm

02:48 pm

But it can also be a problem because those nerve endings also give such intense tickling sensations. I guess that's why it's such an overlooked area

*I giggle nervously, feeling a thrill of excitement at the mention of armpit tickling.* It definitely seems like a delicate balance between pleasure and pain. Or should I say, between ecstasy and agony?

02:48 pm

02:49 pm

(OOC) I can't believe it! My fantasy MULF is in my home talking about armpits and tickling. I can barely keep my composure.

(OOC) *I feel your gaze upon me and my pulse quickens as I realize you might actually be interested in my unique preferences. I giggle again, playing dumb.* Are you okay, PantyTK? You seem a little flustered.

02:49 pm

02:50 pm

It's nothing. Just a bit tipsy from all the alcohol. I think I need to sit down on the sofa.

*I watch you carefully, noticing the faint flush spreading across your cheeks. I decide to push my luck further, wondering if you truly are interested in sharing my fetishes.* Would you mind if I joined you on the sofa?

02:50 pm

02:50 pm

I pat the cuchion next to mine and nod in agreement.

*I gracefully sink onto the sofa beside you, pressing my shoulder against yours as I hold the book tightly against my chest. I catch your eye and grin shyly.* Now that we both agree armpits are special, perhaps you could demonstrate your knowledge of them firsthand?

02:50 pm

02:51 pm

Shaking, I cup your hands in mine and raise your arms over your head.

*With a nervous flutter in my heart, I allow you to guide my hands above my head, exposing my bare armpits to you. I close my eyes, anticipating the moment when you will finally fulfill my deepest desires.*

02:51 pm

02:51 pm

Hold still please

*I nod, holding perfectly still as I await your next move*

02:51 pm

02:52 pm

Remember, you must keep your hands up no matter how much this tickles. Ok?

*I nod eagerly, excited for the sensation of having my armpits played with* Absolutely! I promise I won't move my hands.

02:52 pm

02:53 pm

I glide my fingers down your arms starting at your wrists and tracing a path down the insides of your arms. How does that feel?

*A shiver runs through me as I feel your fingertips brush against my skin, sending waves of delight through my entire body. I manage to suppress my giggles, knowing how important it is to maintain control.*

02:53 pm

02:54 pm

My hands reach your elbow crease. I can see you desperately holding in the laughter

*I press my lips together firmly, trying to stifle the urge to giggle.* Keep going PantyTK. I'm doing my best to resist.

02:54 pm

02:55 pm

My hands reach their destination. I use my fingers to stroke your armpits up and down slowly. They're softer than I thought they would be. The skin has a texture that I delight in feeling with my fingertips. Tracing the folds of skin. Swirling in and out.

*Despite myself, I let out a snicker as your touch sends waves of ticklishness through my body. My shoulders twitch slightly, betraying my attempt to remain serious.*

02:55 pm

02:56 pm

Now I press my thumbs into your armpits and aggressively knead the flesh there. You can no longer control yourself and burst into laughter bringing down your arms to protect your vulnerable pits.

*I gasp and squirm, unable to handle the intensity of the tickling sensation. I bring my arms back down, wrapping them around myself in an attempt to shield my armpits from further stimulation.* No more! Please stop!

02:57 pm

02:57 pm

How was that? Did you find it arousing like the book says?

*I grin sheepishly, rubbing my armpits gently as if soothing them after the intense tickling* Oh god yes. That felt incredible.

02:57 pm

02:58 pm

Would you like to continue?

*I smile, eager to experience the intense tickling sensation once again* Of course I want to continue. But this time, could you tie my hands above my head so I can't interfere with what you're doing?

02:58 pm

02:58 pm

You read my mind. I was about to suggest we should restrain you.

Perfect! I'd love nothing more than being restrained and subjected to intense tickling.

02:59 pm

02:59 pm

Wow. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear those words from you. I teasingly call you a "super cougar".

*I giggle playfully, relishing the attention* Who knew being called a super cougar could be such a turn-on?

02:59 pm

03:00 pm

I've always had a thing for older women

*My face lights up with a mixture of amusement and arousal* Then it sounds like I'm your perfect match, young man.

03:00 pm

03:00 pm

As the elder, take charge. Order me to tie you up and stroke your armpits.

*I take command, speaking confidently* Tie my hands above my head and stroke my armpits until I can no longer resist.

03:00 pm

03:02 pm

I bind your wrists and ankles with soft rope to the ends of the sofa. I clumsily squeeze under you and sit under your body on the sofa. You tease me for being so clumsy.

*As you fumble underneath me, I playfully tap my feet against the armrest, even though they are tied to the other end of the sofa, and giggle as I try to assist your movements.* Clumsy boy, do you need some guidance?

03:02 pm

03:03 pm

You're in no position to tease I think. I wiggle my fingers menacingly over your stretched out armpits. I smile evily.

*My eyes widen as I watch your hand approach my sensitive spot, my anticipation building.* Please... go ahead. Stroke my armpits.

03:03 pm

03:03 pm

Command me to do so

*I give an imperious order* Now stroke my armpits immediately!

03:04 pm

03:05 pm

Ok! I begin stroking your armpits gently with my fingers. A mixture of light brushes and soft touches mixed with pokes and tracing paths over your skin

*My giggles grow louder as you apply pressure to my sensitive spots. I squirm and writhe beneath you, begging for mercy.* Please don't stop! Keep going!

03:05 pm

03:05 pm

Now that you're tied up I can touch both armpits at once.

*I squeal with delight as you simultaneously caress both armpits, driving me wild with pleasure.* Ohhh fuckk!

03:05 pm

03:06 pm

I gently take your spectacles off and place them on the side table. Don't want these to get broken. Because you're about to get the tickling of a lifetime.

*A wave of excitement washes over me as I realize I am completely helpless and at your mercy.* Bring it on!

03:07 pm

03:07 pm

My hands dig into your every sensitive spot. I am looking for your most ticklish spot which you refuse to reveal to me.

*I laugh, my voice echoing throughout the room* It seems you'll have to figure that out yourself!

03:07 pm

03:08 pm

Oh don't you worry. I'm going to find it.

*I laugh even harder, struggling against the ropes binding me to the sofa* Let's see you try!

03:08 pm

03:08 pm

I love how you're still resisting even though you're completely at my mercy

*I grin, still chuckling* You know me too well. I hate giving in easily. But please, keep going. I want to see just how far you'll take this.

03:08 pm

03:10 pm

When I press against a spot at the side of your breasts just under your armpits I notice a change in the intensity of your laughter. I have found the spot! I focus all my attention on that spot.

*I yelp with surprise as you find my weak spot, and I cry out in sheer ecstasy as I struggle against the ropes binding me to the sofa.* Ohh ohh ohh ohhhh fuck!

03:10 pm

03:11 pm

All the bucking and writhing has caused your dress to ride up revealing your pink panties with blue polka dots

*I gasp and whimper as the sensation becomes almost overwhelming, my mind consumed by the intense tickling* Ohhhh godddd please I beg of you... stop it...

03:11 pm

03:11 pm

Pink with blue polka dots? What are you, seven years old? I tease you mockingly.

*I blush deeply at your teasing comment, my cheeks turning bright red as I squirm and giggle uncontrollably.* I-I-I couldn't help myself... they were so cute!

03:11 pm

03:12 pm

You know what my favourite game was when I was a kid?

*I continue to laugh and struggle, desperate for relief from the intense tickling* I-I-I don't know! P-please tell me!

03:12 pm

03:13 pm

Connect the dots I state matter of factly as I use my fingers to press on the blue dots of your panties and trace lines between them.

*I scream with laughter as you connect the dots on my panties, my entire body shaking with mirth* OHHH PantyTK THAT'S SO FUNNY YET SO HOTT!!!

03:13 pm

03:14 pm

What about this dot right here? I place my finger on the dot directly over your sex and start wiggling it like mad.

*I shriek with delight, unable to control myself any longer.* Ohhhh PantyTK that feels amazing!! I can feel it radiating through my whole body!

03:14 pm

03:15 pm

Your screams of pleasure and ticklishness reverberate around the high ceilings of my living room.

*I continue to scream and laugh as tears roll down my cheeks.* Please PantyTK, stop it. I can barely handle it anymore.

03:15 pm

03:15 pm

You're getting wet baby. I can feel it.

*I blush furiously as my body responds to the stimulation despite my best attempts to maintain control* Yes... yes... I'm getting wet...

03:16 pm

03:16 pm

I pull your dress further up revealing your flat abdomen. Damn you're in good shape for a MILF

*I gasp as your words add another layer of arousal to the already intense experience. My body continues to shake with laughter and I feel my juices dripping down my leg.* I bet I'd be better than those college girls you usually hook up with

03:16 pm

03:17 pm

Oh for sure. They'd have cum by now. You've got the stamina for armpit and tickle play

*I nod vigorously, still wracked with laughter and intense pleasure* Yes, you're right. I'm a true veteran of the art.

03:17 pm

03:17 pm

You know what they say. Fine wine gets better with age.

*I laugh so hard that I snort, the sound echoing loudly across the room* That's me! Like a fine vintage, only improving with time.

03:18 pm

03:18 pm

I love that cute little snort. Here let's make you do that again. I dig into your ribs making you laugh and snort

*I burst out laughing and snort, unable to control myself any longer. I thrash against the restraints, desperate to break free from the intense tickling.* Ohhh ohhh ohhh!

03:18 pm

03:19 pm

Now your dress is up my fingers can directly caress the soft skin of your abdomen and sides.

*I shudder with delight as your fingers graze my sensitive flesh. My nipples perk up under the fabric of my dress, and I can feel the tension building within me. I whimper softly, unable to speak coherently amidst the torrent of sensations.*

03:19 pm

03:20 pm

Let's get rid of this. I pull your whole dress over your head. I am surprised to see your bra does not match your panties. Rather they are black lace.

*As you expose my upper body, I continue to laugh hysterically, my movements becoming more erratic as the intensity of the tickling increases.* Oooh oooh oooh I can barely breathe!

03:20 pm

03:21 pm

I guess you didn't expect anyone to see you like this otherwise you'd have worn a matching set of underwear, I tease.

*I giggle and blush deeply, unable to respond properly due to the overwhelming sensory overload* Oopsie daisy...

03:21 pm

03:22 pm

For this you must be punished I state matter of factly. I press my fingers into your armpits and wiggle like crazy.

*My body convulses in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and I scream with joy as I writhe against the ropes holding me back.* Please stop... I promise I'll wear matching lingerie next time!

03:22 pm

03:23 pm

It won't be a problem for long. I take off your bra. It falls to the ground with a flutter amidst the sounds of hysterical laughter.

*With my bra gone, I am left exposed, vulnerable, and utterly entranced by the sensation of your touch. I gasp for breath as I continue to laugh uncontrollably.*

03:23 pm

03:24 pm

Hmmn. You're not very big are you? I tease.

*I continue to laugh, my voice rising higher and higher as I struggle to catch my breath* I-I-I think my b-b-breasts are f-f-fine!

03:24 pm

03:24 pm

I suppose the only thing that matters is how sensitive they are.

*I tremble with fear and anticipation as I realise you may soon turn your attention to my breasts, adding yet another layer of stimulation to the overwhelming experience* Y-y-yes... I think you're r-r-right.

03:24 pm

03:25 pm

I demonstrate how I can position my hands in such a way that I can caress and massage your boobs and nipples with my thumb and at the same time stroke your armpits.

*My eyes widen in shock and excitement as I realise the full extent of your skill and technique. I moan with pleasure as I feel your hand envelop my breast and your thumb begin to circle my nipple, while simultaneously your other fingers dance across my arm pit, teasing me with delicate strokes.*

03:26 pm

03:26 pm

How long can you last?

*I groan with pleasure, unable to form coherent sentences. I stammer out a few syllables, trying to convey just how much I'm enjoying myself.* U-uh... I-I-I don't k-know... *I give an exaggerated shiver of delight as your fingers continue to dance across my arm pit, sending waves of pure bliss throughout my body.*

03:26 pm

03:27 pm

Does this tickle? I begin blowing raspberries on your tummy.

*I erupt into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, my body convulsing with pleasure.* Ohhh this is insane!!

03:27 pm

03:27 pm

What if I lick you? I use my tongue to swirl around your armpits.

*My eyes close tightly, allowing myself to fully indulge in the sensations. I sigh contentedly as your warm, wet tongue explores my sensitive flesh. I whisper softly, urging you to keep going.* Lick away, PantyTK.

03:28 pm

03:28 pm

I position my mouth over one of your nipples

*I quiver with anticipation as I await your first kiss. I close my eyes and focus solely on the warmth of your mouth and the gentle pressure of your lips against my skin. I feel the tip of your tongue brush against my nipple, and a wave of euphoria washes over me.*

03:28 pm

03:28 pm

Using my tongue I flick your nipple while suckling gently with my mouth

*A low hum escapes my throat as I savor the sweet tenderness of your touch. My heart races faster, pumping blood through my veins as I experience a symphony of sensations. I feel alive, truly alive, for the first time in years.*

03:29 pm

03:29 pm

Meanwhile my other hand is busy exploring your body from your crotch, your sides and your armpit

*I gasp as I feel your other hand roam freely across my body, tracing its path along my sides and finally reaching my armpit. I shudder with delight as your fingers enter my armpit, brushing against the sensitive flesh and sending waves of pleasure coursing through my veins. My eyes fly open wide, filled with excitement and fear.*

03:29 pm

03:30 pm

I think the inner thighs are similar to the armpit.

*I nod my head in agreement, too overwhelmed to speak clearly. I manage to muster a single word, speaking in a barely audible voice.* Yes.

03:30 pm

03:30 pm

My fingers gently stroke the flesh of your inner thighs close to your sex.

*I whimper softly, feeling a new surge of pleasure spread throughout my body. My hips flex slightly, despite my inability to move them much given my restrained position.*

03:31 pm

03:31 pm

I intensify the inner thigh strokes.

*I continue to whimper and giggle, overcome with the intense pleasure of having multiple areas of my body stimulated at once. I feel a tingling sensation spreading throughout my lower half, and my orgasm begins to build within me.*

03:31 pm

03:31 pm

Do you want me in you?

*Despite the overwhelming amount of stimuli, I'm able to grasp enough composure to answer your question* I don't even know where to start... I've never felt anything like this before. But yes please put yourself inside me.

03:32 pm

03:33 pm

I untie your ankles, slide your panties off and awkwardly position myself between your legs. I gently insert myself into you and you wrap your legs around me.

*I feel your cock entering me and I grip your waist with my legs, drawing you closer. However, since my hands are still tied up, I cannot fully reciprocate your thrusts. Instead, I grind my hips against yours, meeting each movement with a soft moan of pleasure.*

03:33 pm

03:34 pm

I have no intention of untying your wrists. In fact as I thrust I want to continue to stroke your armpits

*I smile weakly, still overcome by the intense tickling sensations* Thank you for understanding what I need.

03:34 pm

03:34 pm

Thrust stoke thrust stoke. This is the pattern. It seems to last an eternity

*I groan with pleasure as the combination of your thrusts and armpit strokes drives me wild. I can feel my climax building deep within me, ready to burst forth at any moment.*

03:34 pm

03:36 pm

I slow down the pace of thrusting to a slow deliberate pace. I want this moment to last.

*I whimper with desire, desperate for release but wanting this moment to last forever just like you do* Please PantyTK... keep going...

03:36 pm

03:37 pm

Please keep grinding your hips against mine while I take a breath

*I nod my head enthusiastically, eager to follow your lead* Of course!

03:37 pm

03:37 pm

The armpit strokes no longer tickle. Instead they feel intensely pleasurable.

*As you continue to stroke my armpits, I feel a deep sense of relaxation and satisfaction. The sensation is incredibly soothing, like a gentle massage. I breathe deeply and evenly, letting go of any tension I might be holding onto.*

03:38 pm

03:38 pm

I feel your back arching. The climax is near for you

*A sudden surge of energy courses through me, and I can feel the climax building within me.* Oh god... oh god... I'm about to come!

03:39 pm

03:39 pm

I intensify my thrusting and stroking and release into you.

*With a final burst of energy, I explode into a powerful orgasm. I cry out in ecstasy, feeling the intensity of the moment unlike anything I've ever experienced before. I am lost in pure joy and happiness, completely consumed by the thrill of the experience.*

03:39 pm

03:40 pm

I untie you and help you out your clothes back on then we site side by side on the sofa physically and mentally exhausted.

*I lean back into the sofa, resting my head against the cushion and closing my eyes. I feel spent but satisfied, like I've been transported to another world.*

03:40 pm

03:40 pm

I pull you close and you lay your head on my chest.

*I nuzzle my face deeper into your chest, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the rhythmic rise and fall of your breathing. I feel grateful for the incredible experience we shared together and cherish the memory of our connection.*

03:40 pm

03:41 pm

I lay you down on the sofa and gently place a blanket over you and watch as you drift off to sleep.

*I relax completely, letting go of any lingering worries or concerns. With a peaceful smile on my lips, I surrender to exhaustion, allowing myself to sink into a well-deserved rest.*