#Magnetic Lubricant

[sw5w]

Artoo on the Move

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:26:00

[qingxin-dream]

“My Sweet Angel”

summary | months of repressed feelings bubble to the surface one night, but you’re fast asleep while wanderer is lost in his own thoughts secretly pining for you. but, uh…pining might be an understatement. (art credits: @/1eternalstar on twitter).

warnings | wanderer is down so bad, obsession, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader, somnophilia, aphrodisiac/drugging, masturbation, edging/orgasm denial, oral f!receiving, bondage, temperature/element play, worship, slight degradation/praise, creampie

genre | pure, filthy smut (happy kinktober!🎃)

word count | 2.8k

pairing | wanderer x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

A small, breathless gasp ripples through the silence of the night. The sound of crickets and cicadas is but a low roar in the background, barely enough to mask the melody of your traveling companion’s sweet, subdued moans. Merely a foot away is your sleeping form, quietly snoozing with your pretty lashes resting on your cheeks. Your silhouette is ethereal, like an angel banished from heaven finding solace in the moonlight with her wings tucked safely away.

Wanderer’s attention ceaselessly gravitated toward you. It seemed to be a natural reaction. Instinctual, even. He admired you with the deepest devotion, seconds turning into hours. There was a part of him, something long buried and locked away, which surfaced in his chest like a breath of fresh air.

Your hair cascades perfectly over your shoulders, framing the soft shape of your face. Your rosy lips part in a faint sigh. The occasional incoherent mumble of your dreams causes his ears to perk up, hoping to catch a glimpse of what your little fantasies are made of. Your exposed stomach when you roll over with a groan and the magnetic curve of your legs make his eyes darken with lust.

Archons, he had way too much time in his hands every night. Thankfully you were blissfully unaware that puppets didn’t need any sleep.

He cursed to himself between sharp, ragged intakes, his needy violet eyes reflecting the luminescence of the moon, raking over your curves with a carnal glint. Looking back, he had all the opportunities in the world to stop that nagging desire churning within his chest.

But Wanderer was selfish. Once he got a taste of your affection, consider him a starved man.

His thoughts about you would twist and tangle his emotions until it utterly choked him of any sensibility. Love and lust are more than just a slippery slope. The puppet was free-falling in the abyss of your pheromones. The best part is you were completely clueless to these intimate escapades of his.

Could you blame such a depraved, touch-starved puppet?

The nights all seemed to blend together like this. Waiting patiently for you to snore gently before he let his fingers ghost your figure, assuring him that you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. One hand would devote itself to exploring every bit of skin you had to offer while the other palmed the growing bulge in his shorts.

Like a moth to a flame, he became utterly entranced with the glow of your skin beneath the moon. You are like a goddess laying beautifully upon your altar of silken bedsheets, awaiting the devout worship of his soft prayers and saccharine lips.

His fingers grazed your shoulder, trailing down your arm and leaving tiny goosebumps in its wake. He let his hand mesh carefully into the dip of your waist, imperceptibly squeezing it just enough to fan the flames of his imagination. He was in another dimension entirely, wishing for the day you’d beg for his touch.

Wanderer takes his lower lip between his teeth harshly, dipping his hand beneath his shorts to tug the tip of his thick cock with growing fervor. Precum had already wet the slit of his tip, lubricating each teasing thrust of his hand over his dick. Meanwhile, he continued his journey down the round, plump curve of your hips.

Hips that were meant for childbearing.

He takes a fistful of your nightgown momentarily as his cock aches in his hand, yearning for release so soon. For fuck’s sake, why is the image of you bred full with his seed so goddamn hot?

His movements came to an abrupt halt at the lacy end of your little nightgown. He had to know what you were wearing beneath that silky dress. The idea of making a mess all over your cute panties, covering them generously in his cum, only edged him further. Or, even better, he’d love to fuck his creamy load all over your drenched folds before sliding back in for another round.

Wanderer had to make a concerted effort to reel in his filthy daydreams, struggling to keep his hands from trembling on you. He managed to slip the nightgown higher and higher up your smooth thighs, a lump quickly forming in the puppet’s throat.

He’s not sure if he could handle seeing you so vulnerable without ripping your clothes off and fucking you to his heart’s content right then and there. No, no, no... After all this endless waiting and pining for many torturous months, he couldn’t ruin this with a fleeting moment of insatiable want. He pauses, collecting himself for a brief moment.

The puppet’s pupils dilated into pools of audacious desire upon seeing the dainty black undergarments hugging your plush hip. It was lacy with a beautiful floral design, enrapturing his gaze all the way down to your cunt. Wanderer couldn’t help himself, reaching out subconsciously to brush his thumb against your clit through your panties.

“I wanna fuck you so bad… so bad,” he whispers, his voice just an octave higher with desperation as he continues to fist his throbbing cock. The friction of his hand isn’t enough. It couldn’t come close to the immaculate sensation of your slick pussy enveloping his cock, dragging the tip slowly from your clit to your fluttering, empty hole. But that would be insane, he couldn’t.

You didn’t seem to move a muscle in response to his touch. Meanwhile, Wanderer is struggling like a fool to restrain himself, it is almost comical. He could feel his impending orgasm, forcing his hand to slow down with longer, more intermittent strokes to stop from practically bursting at the seams.

Eventually, he found the courage to nudge the cloth of your black panties aside, revealing your pretty little pussy lips glistening with need. The puppet’s violet irises swirl with power, nearly drunk on the mere thought of pleasuring you in secret like this. Why else would you wear such a sexy little garment for him?

A dull, burning sensation coated his lungs as his thumb nestled into your bare clit, resolving himself to carefully lean down and relieve his parched throat with a kitten lick of your folds. It was a miracle that you hadn’t stirred in your sleep too much, yet the part of him reckless with lust wanted you to wake up while he was tongue-deep in your cunt. He dived between your labia again with his mouth, exhaling a soft, guttural moan into your hole after another good lick.

“Mm, so fucking good… I know you fucking like this, baby,” Wanderer mumbles, wrapping his arms around your hips to secure you in place as he freely drags his tongue across your folds and clit skillfully, placing an occasional kiss here and there. Your thighs subconsciously tense with pleasure.

Had he known you would taste so divine, he would’ve devoured your pussy a long time ago. Shifting slightly so that he could lay completely on his stomach, Wanderer eagerly laps at your cunt and fucks his leaking cock into the mattress. Shit, it is too easy for him to lose sight of himself and tug at your hips possessively, not hesitating to fuck you messily with his tongue.

It’s when he got a little too hasty slurping on your pussy with a particularly lascivious moan that you grumble in your sleep. Wanderer freezes, peering over your pelvis like a predator defending his prize with a piercing violet glare.

There is no way you could possibly wake up. Not now. Not when he’s so close. He deduces that the twitch in your sleep must be from that little aphrodisiac he slipped in your evening tea with him. The puppet had made a nice concoction of tasteless drugs to keep you both asleep and all sensitive just for him.

Wanderer is confident that his potion had its intended effect, but just in case—with a flick of his wrist, he ties your hands together on the headboard with a cool, pressurized ring of Anemo energy. He towers over you, a giddy smirk spreading across his lips seeing you so helpless to his desires.

He had read that cute pocket diary of yours gushing over him like he’s your high school sweetheart, don’t worry. You both know these feelings are mutual. But let’s be honest, he’d much rather you gush on his cock over and over until your pussy can’t take it anymore. And you’ve been dreaming about it too, he’s seen it with his own eyes.

Positioning himself between your legs, the puppet slaps his thick cock on your stomach, measuring it up to your belly button where his pink tip mushrooms. There’s no question that his dick would bottom out inside your walls, maybe if he’s lucky he could see his thrusts bulge in your lower stomach. He’d love to pound you deep enough to truly bury his cum inside you, plugging it with his pulsing cock until he’s sure you’re nice and bred.

No, no, he reminds himself again. He has to savor his time with you—make love to you like you rightfully deserve. There will be plenty of opportunities to fuck you senseless later, despite how badly he wants it now.

The tip of his cock trails down to your folds, tucking his length under your panties. Using one hand to guide his cock against your soaking core, the other rests on your inner thigh as he grinds against you slowly. Wanderer grits his teeth at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath and brushing his thumb lovingly against your sensitive inner thigh. It’s everything he’s ever imagined and more.

He’s forced to bite his knuckles, nearly choking on his own pathetic whines of pleasure. His thrusts grow faster, using your lingerie to keep his cock pressed firmly between your folds.

His words are a ravenous, hoarse whisper, begging you in your sleep. “Shit, shit, shit, you’re gonna make me cum…! Can I put it in? C-Can I please put it in?”

Wanderer knows what your answer will be, grinding sloppily on your drenched cunt while he grabs your breast. He wishes he could hear you say it. But he can feel the way your sweet little hole clenches around nothing every time his tip rubs your clit just right, and that’s enough for him.

It takes no effort to snap the thin straps of your lacy panties in haste, quickly tossing the garment aside indiscriminately. It’s too much, fuck, you look too perfect. Before he knows it, Wanderer pushes his tip inside your sopping entrance, gazing with wonder at how you suck him in like a good slut. Such a good fucking slut, hugging the first inch of his hard cock like you never wanted to let go.

Your spongy walls subconsciously react to his every motion, tightening around the puppet’s cock with unprecedented strength. He hisses, materializing a blue chained choker around your neck with his Anemo abilities and yanking you forward. His girth splits you apart, sliding inside your throbbing cunt inch by every tantalizing inch, until he can meet you halfway and kiss your whimpering, tender lips.

“Goddamn you,” Wanderer growls into the kiss, harshly biting onto your lip. He doesn’t draw blood, but tends to your bruised skin thereafter with a gentler, half-apologetic kiss. “You feel so fucking good, take me so fucking good… mm…”

His hips draw back, your walls noticeably empty in his absence. Snapping forward, his huge cock plunges into your depths with a delightfully lewd smack, causing him to chuckle under his breath. The puppet carefully lays you back on the pillow, planting his arms on either side of your head so that his vision is filled with only your beautiful face.

Once Wanderer begins to establish a rhythm, there’s no stopping him. Every drag of his veiny cock against your sensitive walls is utterly addicting, he had to come back for more and more. He moans and whines your name into your delicate little neck, taking the flesh into his mouth to suck and mark you as his own.

He is panting over you like an animal in heat. “I can feel you squeezing me, angel. I know you love it. ‘M gonna use that pretty little pussy of yours.”

Your body twitches beneath him as his lips leave no crevice untouched by his kisses or hickeys, a smattering of small red and purple blotches dotting your skin from your neck to your breasts. All the while, the puppet had to throttle his pace again, almost giving in to the ecstasy. You were definitely getting close too, he could feel it in the way you clenched around him greedily.

Swirling his tongue around your cute nipple, Wanderer suckles it briefly with a pop of his mouth, admiring his work on the canvas of your gorgeous body. He leaned back, hooking his hands under your calves to press your knees to your chest. If only he had a Kamera to capture the mesmerizing image of your legs spread so good for him with a perfect shot of your cunt wrapped around his tip.

He could tell this position had your walls enveloping his length even tighter than before, angling his cock deep towards that special spot inside you that would have your toes curling. “God, (Y/N), you look so fucking sexy like this.”

It is killing him—the sensation of your hole desperately clinging to the inch of his cock sheathed within you. The puppet keeps your legs pushed back and snakes a hand down to your clit once more, which had obviously been aching for attention. He’s lost in the contours of your folds all splayed out for him, so much so that he lets a globule of his spit drip over your clit to mix with your juices.

You are squirming slightly in your sleep from all the stimulation, but he doesn’t care. The euphoric feeling of teetering on the edge of an incredible orgasm has Wanderer stripped of any sense of reason. He nudges his cock halfway inside you at a delectably slow pace, reveling in your body’s subtle reactions to his teasing.

“Yeah, baby? You wanna fucking cum?” Wanderer whispers hotly over you, circling your clit faster. There’s already a delicious ring of your essence gathering at the base of his cock.

“Cum…” you mumble in a daze, your eyelashes fluttering open slowly. Your expression is contorted into a helpless plea, licking and biting your bottom lip as you sleepily notice his cock nestled between your thighs.

Wanderer’s eyes snap to yours in disbelief. You’re lucid, but asking for more. He begins to chuckle lowly, and reaches to caress your cheek. “You want it, hm? Speak up.”

He continues to fuck you at an excruciatingly slow pace, waiting patiently for you to beg for his seed. He wanted you in tears, squirting all over him like a good girl. Your moans encourage him to go deeper.

“Please, Wanderer,” you struggle to curl your fingers in his indigo locks under the effects of the drugs. “K-keep going, feels too good. Fill me up, please…”

“Like this?” The puppet smirks, forcefully thrusting his huge cock to the brim inside of you. He relishes in your lovely cries of pleasure and pain, swallowing them in a passionate kiss as he fucks you with reckless abandon.

You could barely hiccup a response, sloppily kissing back as Wanderer abuses your tight hole. He has you pinned against the creaky mattress, holding your face with his thumb on your chin to keep your mouth open. Every noise of ecstasy is his to claim and taste on your tongue.

“Mine, baby, all mine. Say it for me,” Wanderer moans, adoring the cock-drunk glimmer in your clouded eyes.

Squeezing your eyes shut suddenly, your eyebrows furrowed together as you suddenly felt your orgasm build at a rapid speed. You whined against the Anemo cuffs restraining your wrists above your head. “Yours! Oh my god, I’m yours. I’m gonna fucking cum, please, please give it me…!”

“Mhmm, yeah c’mon baby, lemme see you cum for me, so good for me, yeah?” he praises, kissing you roughly as he snaps his hips into you. It’s impossible to deny his insatiable need for you any longer, painting your walls white with spurts of his hot seed in a series of profanity-laden grunts.

Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm washes over you, legs trembling around him. The continuous twitch of his cock has you arching your back, taking every last drop of his cum until your cunt can’t hold any more. It leaks out, creaming your folds and his cock nicely.

Once you both catch your breath and lock eyes, you feel your cunt ache to be filled once more. Noticing how you trap him with your legs around his hips, Wanderer realizes the aphrodisiac must have been stronger than he anticipated.

You smile sweetly. “M-maybe one more?”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.

[elbiotipo]

There is a trope in older sci-fi that Mars was once green planet like Earth, but then something happened and it turned into a dessert where water is scarce, but biosphere ultimately survived.

Like, is there any way something like this can happen realistically on any planet? Maybe not water disappearing of the planet but largely going deep underground so it's not accessible to surface inhabitants?

Well, it IS what literally happened to Mars. Actually, what happened, or what it's believed happened, is that Mars didn't have enough of a magnetic field to prevent the solar wind from stripping away its atmosphere, and it didn't have a large mass like the Earth to keep it in any case. Incidentally, this is why the Moon is also lifeless despite being in the "habitable zone" where it could have liquid water: it simply doesn't have a magnetic field or is massive enough (despite being so big it could count as the Solar System's 5th inner "planet"). Another thing against Mars is its apparent lack of plate tectonics, which, at least on Earth-like worlds, require oceans as a "lubricant", so to speak. Without plate tectonics and only with ocassional volcanoes, the Martian atmosphere and its CO2 could not regenerate (and this is vital for keeping greenhouse gases, especially for a world far away from the Sun like Mars), so it's the way it is today.

However, this was apparently a slow process. Oceans on Mars apparently existed as far as 2 billion years ago, at the same time Earth also had life. It's possible that the own circulation of the water in the ocean managed it to keep from freezing, even if the atmosphere was cold. This is all very on the air right now but if this is true, it means that the Solar System had 2 worlds with liquid water oceans. Maybe 3, the situation at Venus is not well known.

And indeed, like you said, water doesn't just "dissapear", it has to go somewhere. In the case of Mars, it froze underground and on the ice caps, or otherwise was blown away as water vapor as the atmosphere depleted (with not atmospheric pressure, it can't remain as liquid). This is still hugely debated though. Every time something like water flows or subsurface lakes is discovered there's endless debate on what's going on Mars, but I think it's fair to say there must be lots of frozen water there.

In worldbuilding, you could indeed have a desert world this way. It could be that intelligent life evolved at the last days of it as an oceanic world, with the water cycle mostly locked in glaciers and sub-surface ice, and besides the equator everything else is cold, barren desert. In fact, Mars is basically this. If it had a breathable atmosphere it would resemble such a setting.

However, one has to wonder how would life would survive in such a setting, if there's no oceans with phytoplankton or forests and vegetation to replenish oxygen. Vegetation is very hardy, many deserts that aren't dunes or rock have some. But there are limits.

Arrakis from Dune had this same logical problem and Frank Herbert knew it. He solved it by making the sandworms (MAY HIS PASSAGE CLEANSE THE WORLD. MAY HE KEEP THE WORLD FOR HIS PEOPLE) produce oxygen. This makes a lot of sense. After all, Dune is covered in dunes, and sand is made mostly of silicon dioxide. So if the digestive processes of the sandworm digest silicon dioxide, this would give a lot of oxygen. How many sandworms and at what rate would they produce oxygen is debatable, but there is a working mechanism. Some funky stuff like that might work in places like Tatooine too. But I believe even some small oceans or places with vegetation would be able to sustain an oxygen atmosphere, especially if the atmosphere was oxygenated already. It's a careful balance though.

Another way to get desert worlds is to look at the future of our own Earth. Even before the Sun becomes a red giant, the Sun will increase in brightness and the temperature will rise. One billion years from now, most carbon dioxide on the atmosphere will be sequestered by erosion and geological processes, and if not replenished by volcanoes and tectonics (which are predicted to slow down too, especially with the oceans deplenishing), there would be little photosythesis with only hardy plants surviving, most life will only survive in the poles or at high altitudes, it's likely that water life will also start going extinct without dissolved oxygen. The oceans will also eventually start to evaporate and there are two options here: Earth might become a hellish greenhouse world like Venus, if they evaporate slowly and it remains in the atmosphere, or the evaporation might be rapid, which might make, as I understand it, a brief wet period, and then desert as it desintegrates in the upper atmosphere. It all depends on how long tectonics go on (as continents grow, deserts will too) and if there are other events, though. This is still hugely debated, currently I'm reading The Life And Death of Planet Earth which talks about such happy topics as these.

There's also another posibility, that your planet just wasn't formed with enough water and atmosphere in the first place. It's some point of debate on how much water and atmospheric pressure an Earth-like planet needs to sustain life. But you could concievable have a much lesser atmosphere and surface water than Earth, and this atmosphere would remain 'sunk' in lowlands, valleys, craters, etc. separated by lifeless highlands (or highlands with very sparse extremophile life). This might make some really strange stuff, but it would be great for a speculative biology project.

(if you liked this post and would like to read more worldbuilding stuff, consider tipping me here!)

[brandwhorestarscream]

part 2 of D-16 carrying Sentinel’s sparkling please?

Your wish is my command, anon! I had a lotta people asking for this, so many messages! Ya'll are so sweet, I really appreciate it, so thanks for that! Let's get right into it ^-^ part 1 is here, part 3 here, part 4 here!

Orion is at his side in an instant, yelping, "Dee, no! Stop, you'll hurt yourself!" As he forcibly grabs his friend's servos to stop him from tearing himself apart. D-16 shrieks a wordless noise of agony, and then collapses forward onto Orion to begin sobbing violently into his shoulder. Clutching onto him like a lifeline, wailing with all the devastated force he can. Bawling against Orion and falling to pieces, brokenly asking what he's going to do. 

Orion numbly wraps his arms around Dee, letting his chin fall onto his shoulder. His arms slowly tighten, til he’s clinging with near-denting force, and his optics begin to sting with tears too. It hits him later than it did D-16, what exactly Sentinel did to them. That he intentionally got them drunk and lied to them, he lied, lied, lied about them being special and lied about caring for them, all so he could make them pop their panels. It sinks in, slowly, exactly what he took from them: he robbed them of their first time, something that should’ve been one of the tenderest, loving moments of their lives. He used them and threw them away just because he could. He ravaged their bodies selfishly, under false pretenses, without a care for how it would effect them. He touched their sparks. He raped them, both of them, and a sob suddenly flies past Orion’s lips. It hits him all at once, with a feeling like a train has just plowed into his chassis full-force, and all he can do is cling onto D-16 and wail. They cry together, desperately holding onto each other there on the cavern, weeping with all the force of their broken, disgusted sparks.

Alpha Trion stands vigil over them, observing in sorrow, letting them mourn and grieve all that they’ve lost. His spark aches for them. Poor, poor children… they’re so young. Too young to be forced to weather something like this, such an egregious sin… he watches Elita approach them with a haunted look on her face, B-127 wandering closer in her shadow, and she reaches a trembling servo to gently rest on Orion’s shoulder. He grabs onto her wrist like a lifeline, face angling up to look at her lost and broken, optics shattered and expression void of all hope. She bows her helm, mouth pressed into a thin line and lips trembling. Struggling not to cry for them. B-127 creeps closer and, after hesitating for a moment, pads forward to glom onto D-16’s arm. He’s silent as the bigger mech cries, patting at his arm and trying desperately to think of something he can do. But there’s nothing, not really, nothing in the universe could ever soothe a pain like this.

They cry until they can’t shed any more tears, til their bodies have completely exhausted their optical cleanser and lubricant stores, and they’re left dry sobbing and shuddering in exhaustion, slumping against one another and barely upright. It hurts. It hurts. Everything hurts.

“...little one,” Alpha Trion gently addresses D-16 at last, stepping forward and flicking the last of his tears off his face. “I cannot undo what has been done to you, but I can offer to relieve one of your burdens.”

D-16 sniffles miserably, still huddled close to Orion where they’re now sitting side by side on the floor. Orion is cross-legged, face in his servos, with Dee snuggled close against his side, his helm cradled on the blue mech’s shoulder. “Wh…” his voice creaks like a rusty hinge. “What do you…?”

Alpha Trion steps back and raises his palms to the sky, optics closing and exhaling a great puff of air. “ONYX!” his deep voice echoes through the cavern like a clap of thunder. “Onyx, my brother, I beseech you. Speak to this child in my place!”

A warm wind blows in from nowhere, with such force it disturbs the magnetic sand all around them. It begins to swirl, lifting from the ground and into the air to form a funnel, billions of grains chasing one another around and around and forming a curtain around Alpha Trion’s body. They cluster around and seem to consume him, rushing over his plating and molding to his form like a second coat of paint. His helm drops back so his face is parallel to the ceiling, then he gasps as his optics fly open. No longer blue, but a warm, crackling orange-and-pink, like a freshly lit hearth.

He stumbles forward, unsteady on his pedes, taking to one knee and his left palm touching the floor as he stabilizes. “Oh…” when he speaks, it is not Alpha Trion’s voice. He’s… a bit higher pitched. Warmer. Even gentler. “Mother… mercy…”

He shakes his helm and the sand stubbornly clings, before at last he raises his face, zeroing in on the frightened, confused quartet.

“Oh…” he straightens up, optics drifting from each of their faces before focusing wholly on D-16. His expression slips from bafflement to a sort of pained compassion. Not quite pity, but if the way his mouth turns down and his optics narrow with sorrow are any indication, his spark aches for them. “Oh, dear…”

“D-Did he say-” B-127’s optics are impossibly wide, and he’s frozen on the spot, unable to move his pedes. “O-Onyx Prime-?”

“Indeed,” he nods in affirmation, straightening up. Though he remains in Alpha Trion’s body, the sand constructs his visage, shaping around the crests of his helm and fanning out on his back to take the form of his wings. Wings that were missing from his corpse. “Though I wish our meeting was under less dire circumstances, children.”

“Y- You’re-” Elita is starting to frown, inching in front of her group with one arm out. “You’re… th-the god of death-” Oh, Primus. Is he here to reap their sparks? Has Alpha Trion channeled him here to take them away?!

“Do not fear, little one. Peace,” Onyx holds up one servo, and his optics glimmer with warmth. He smiles, gently, hoping to put them at ease. “I mean you no harm. I shepherd over the dead, those who have already passed on. I help them find their way home to Primus, and assist them in seeking rebirth, but I am not here to be your reaper. Please… do not be afraid.”

He approaches them and kneels down just before D-16, looking deep into his optics. “Brother Alpha has called me here to speak to you, child.”

“M-” Dee is clinging tight to Orion, spark pulsing in fear. This- This is death incarnate! They said his hands could bleed a spark from it’s frame with a single touch! They said he lorded over the afterlife and knew everyone’s date and time of death to the millisecond. Having him here, specifically to speak to him, made his throat threaten to close in panic. “Me?”

“Yes,” Onyx Prime’s servo gently touches his helm and he yelps, they all do, flinching away. But after several seconds he realizes, wait… he can still feel everything. He can still feel Orion beside him, can still feel the warm gush of his vents. Actually… he feels better. Physically, anyway: his frame is already beginning to lower it’s heightened temperature back into the green zone, the insistent, horrible pain in his tanks is abating. His optics peak open, and finds Onyx still there, smiling kindly at him. “Please… you needn’t be afraid. I swear to you, upon my graves, I shall not harm you.”

“Wh…” Elita gulps. “Why are you…?”

His optics drift lower, to D-16’s chassis and abdomen. His expression saddens. “You've been forced to endure something terrible… oh, you poor, poor thing…”

The Prime pulls his servo away from Dee’s helm, though not before giving him an affectionate pat. “Listen to me, little one. You are young, you are hurt, and the journey ahead will be very difficult regardless of the path you take. Forcing you to bear this sparkling forced upon you would be a great cruelty if it is not your choice to do so. If you would like, I will take them and return to the Allspark.”

D-16’s spark slams to a stop in his chest. He stiffens, and Orion sits up straighter beside him. Elita’s mouth falls open.

“Wh… What are you…”

“It won’t cause you nor them any pain. They will be safe, and you shall not be punished for it,” he nods down at him. “I know this one, as I know all of them. They are a good spark, they will not resent you if you don’t wish to birth them. They will love you just the same, just as I will, and just as Primus will. The choice is entirely yours, little one.”

Dee’s audials start to ring, and he presses both palms to his chassis. It’s warm, overly warm as it has been the last several decacycles, and before he’d thought it was the heat of fever, but now he knows it is because he hosts an infant soul anchored to his.

He feels frozen in place. He- he could… Onyx Prime would…?

He sobs again and covers his mouth, bowing his helm. “I- I don’t-” he chokes. “I d-don’t know! I don’t know, I- I dunno, I-”

Does he want this sparkling? Does he? He doesn’t know! When Alpha Trion had announced his state, he’d been so happy. Over the moon in fact, beaming with pride and so excited to share the news. They were living proof of his and Orion’s tryst with Sentinel, proof that they were loved and important, and they were so indescribably precious. Now, though… now, they’re… they’re…

Primus, he doesn’t know what they are! He wants to curse them, wants to rip them from his spark chamber and toss them away so there’s no evidence of what that monstrous false Prime had done to him. He doesn’t want to remember, doesn’t want a constant, hideous reminder of the worst thing to ever happen to him.

But… the part of him that was previously excited wars with the other half of him. He doesn’t know that that’s what this sparkling will be. He’d been so excited, so happy, and now in it’s place there’s sadness and horror, and yet another part of him is so angry and repulsed and… and…!

He sobs again, clawing at his helm. “I DON’T KNOW!” he shouts, grinding his denta. “I don’t know, ok?! I don’t know!” how can he? Everything is such a mess in his helm, emotions at war and raging back and forth, grappling for dominance and all trying to shove the other down. He’s scared. He’s hurt. He’s sparkbroken. This is his first sparkling. Perhaps once he’d dreamed of this day, but pictured it so differently, hand in hand with someone who meant more to him than anything else, both of them with transformation cogs because they were good and hardworking and had been rewarded for their efforts. Perhaps he had dreamt of a home, with- with someone special, and a family with one or even two precious sparklings. It was a dream that was supposed to be achieved far into the future. Now, broken as he is, he worries it never will. Never can. It would be an impossibility, as he is now… if he kept this sparkling, he would have to look at it every day knowing he did not love the sire, and never could. He would have to look upon them as their only parent and know that his dreams of a happy life died long before they were even born.

But… if he lets them go, if he lets the god of the dead pluck them from his chest, he might never be fortunate enough to conceive again. What if this first sparkling is his only sparkling, and in letting them go, he loses his one chance? It’s too soon, it’s too early, and circumstances are dire, but… is he prepared to let them go? Knowing this could very well be his only chance?

D-16 sobs again, and Orion’s arm wraps around his shoulder, pulling him close against his chassis. Dee’s face burrows into his neck, whole body shaking as he whimpers again and again that he just doesn’t know!

“...peace, my little one,” Onyx Prime’s voice is rife with sadness and empathy. “You need not make a choice now, or even today. I… I apologize for bringing you further distress, but please know,” he places his right servo over his spark in oath. “The Primes are with you. When you make your choice, utter a prayer to me, and I will come to you if you require my aid.”

With a sigh, all of the sand suddenly falls from Alpha Trion’s body with the whisper of countless grains trickling to the floor, and when he blinks his optics become blue once more. “Ah…” he takes note of their distress, and shakes his helm sadly. “Poor children… rest. You are weary. Rest, and I will feed you.” once they’ve eaten and had time to process, he can reveal more to them, but that can wait.

They have suffered enough for one day. 

...

And that's where I'm gonna cut part 2! Poor, poor Dee... this is the worst day of his life, but at least he has Orion to support him. I hope ya'll enjoyed this angst nugget :3 if you want part 3, ya'll know what to do. Abuse the crap out of my ask box lol. Gimme your thoughts or predictions as well, that's always fun

[noyasmashing]

Excessive praise for Hoshuimi, reader calls him a "good boy."🙏

MY BAEE, I love him sm it hurts, sorry for taking so long to write this, i just forgot to post 😭

CW: Lots of praise, gn!reader, whiny and sensitive hoshu, corruption kink??

Korai emitted a soft plea as you tenderly traced your fingers along his torso, beneath his shirt, exploring his sensitive skin. In response, he naturally leaned into you, his hips brushing against yours, as the magnetic pull of your wandering hands making his body tingle.

“Such a good boy.. for me hmm?” You whispered into his ear, gently nibbling on it, causing him to tremble once more.

Eagerly, he nodded, his ears flushing with warmth from your affectionate words. He had never been so close to someone like this before, and he didn’t understand how good it felt. Often distracted by volleyball, he often neglected his need for sexual release. Presently, he was on the verge of that release, as he felt your thigh softly press against his throbbing erection.

"P-please," he whispered, his customary self-assurance and pride vanishing. Your smirk brushed against his neck's delicate skin, and you gently drew away to make eye contact with him.

“Please what sweetie?” you inquired, tilting your head slightly, acting utterly clueless about his needs in that moment.

A lump formed in his throat, and he instinctively pressed his hips against your leg, yearning for you to assertively take control. He sought the comfort of your touch, craving the pleasure that would erase all thoughts from his mind.

“ Y’know…” He glanced at the visible sign of his desire in his sweats, then returned his gaze to you, timidly awaiting your understanding and response.

“Tell me what you want me to do, or I can’t make you feel good.” You coo’d, before you tenderly placed your hands on his hips, feeling the bones beneath your touch. His breath caught in his throat, his bottom lip quivering as he let out a timid whimper.

"Please, touch my c-cock," he pleaded with evident need, causing you to suppress a giggle. Your expression transformed into a slightly mischievous grin as you reached for his waistband with gentle fingers.

“That’s all I wanted to hear sweetie.” You murmured, as you promptly lowered his pants and underwear, revealing his erect member which made a lewd slapping sound as it struck his abdomen.

He emitted a soft whimper, instinctively lifting his hips. You gently encircled the base of his penis, taking a moment to appreciate its paleness, considerable girth, and the pretty pink tip, adorned with a prominent vein running along its side.

He was practically falling apart under your gaze, and it didn't help when you lowered your head, licking your lips before pressing kisses all over his sensitive head. Making him squirm and cry out helplessly, it didn’t help when your free hand danced along his exposed hips.

He emitted a considerable moan, his head falling back onto the pillow. Nevertheless, he promptly lifted it upon hearing the sound of a bottle cap being opened and a soothing liquid trickling along the length of his member.

Attempting to sway his hips, he encountered resistance as you settled onto his thighs. You’re coo’d at his helpless response. With gentle care, you employed one hand to distribute the lubricant evenly across his length.

“You look so pretty for me baby. I wish you could see yourself right now.” You complimented, causing blood to rush to his member, resulting in a noticeable throbbing within your grasp.

He tried to respond, yet the skillful maneuvers of your wrists restricted him to mere whimpers and pleas, which you couldn't help but chuckle at.

“ I think i’m abo-about to cum.. gunna cum for you [name].” he panted, his back naturally arching from the pleasure. Your eyes finally met his half-lidded ones, and fuck did he look cute with drool leaking from his mouth and cheeks a helpless shade of red. You could feel your core heating up at his disheveled state making it all the more intoxicating.

“Go ahead Korai, you’ve done so well for me, my sweet boy.” you purred, making his mind all the more hazy.

With a loud "Ah!", a white, creamy, liquid oozed from his tip, accompanying your consistent rhythm.

“can’t stop!” He whined, thrusting his hips deeper into your firmly grasped hand. His cum continued to leak and spread, lubricating your hand and allowing you to maintain your motions.

Ultimately, he began to pull at your hand, indicating it was too much. His thighs quivered in tandem with his sniffles, a clear sign of heightened stimulation.

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Killer to Lovers

Toxic!Psychopath!JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Warnings: Extremely toxic and *murderous* JJ, penetration, fingering

Plot: Watching you from a distance, bloodthirsty Jay Maybank can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have you as his.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Obsessed with the idea of a possessive/insane JJ recently- Hope it sounds as good on paper as it did in my head!

JJ Maybank had always been a mystery to you. Whether he be sitting in the corner, shrouded by shadows and watching you and the Pogues intently, or twirling a suspicious knife or gun in his hand, he had always been different than the others.

You heard your parents warn you about him. “That boy is no good!” “You shouldn’t be hanging out around him! He could be dangerous!” The truth was, these scoldings wouldn’t bother you so much if you didn’t think they might be true.

Sure, he had never been exactly mean to you. Although he always seemed to have a strange, almost malicious glint in his eyes whenever he looked at you, any conversations between the two of you were friendly. You would joke around with him, John B, Pope, Kiara, and Sarah, and during those times there was no doubt that he was a Pogue.

But you never failed to miss the questionable red splatters on his clothing on multiple occasions, that always came with the news reports of missing people popping up all over Kildare County.

Yes, Jay Maybank wasn’t someone you should trust. But it was the other things about him that made it impossible for you to stay away. Maybe it was the dark circles around his eyes or the way he would swipe his tongue over his lips, but every time you were near him it was like you were in a trance, his presence warping around you and begging you to come closer.

For you, JJ was like a magnet. He was… and you didn’t know how else to describe it… intoxicating. You never imagined that he could feel any the same. 

It happened one night, when the moon was high in the dark sky, and you were huddled in the back of a building, crying. It was one of those times when the pains, losses, and heartbreaks of your life had finally gotten to you, and the tears were flowing down your face in cascading waves.

You had your face in your hands when you heard a familiar husky, drawling voice from directly next to you.

“And what is a lady like you doing out here so late?” You looked up in surprise to see JJ leaning against the wall facing you, his arms crossed and his head lolling slightly to the side.

“H- how did you find me?” you gasped, moving to wipe the tears from your eyes. Instead, JJ blocked your hand and trailed his forefinger across your cheek slowly. You freezed at his touch.

“I suppose I just can’t keep away from you.” He said lowly. Your despair forgotten, you raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

JJ’s deep blue eyes penetrated your own. “I’ve been watching you for a long time.” A shiver crawled up your spine as his finger moved across your chest lightly. Even through the fabric, you could feel how cold it was. “You’re like a magnet to me. An addicting substance that I can’t seem to resist.”

Shock rippled through your body. How could he know you felt the exact same way about him? It was like he could read your mind. “I feel the same way, Jay,” you said softly.

“Good,” he purred menacingly. Before you knew what’s happening, he pulled the straps of your top and bra down your shoulders, letting them fall to your knees alongside your shorts.

Then he took off his own garments, keeping his eyes trained on you as you watched his muscled chest and hard shaft be uncovered.

Fully exposed in the moonlight, you saw his eyes darken further will hunger as he looked at you. How did this relationship get to this point? And this fast? You didn’t have time to think, as JJ was sucking down on your breasts, possessively taking the tips in his mouth one at a time and making you throw your head back. At the same time he slipped his fingers inside your pussy, already wet with your lubrication, pushing them in and out.

Your mind spun as you tried to comprehend the amount of pleasure coming from both places at once. You never imagined JJ’s fingers, or mouth, would feel this good. You twisted against the wall as he picked up his pace down below, relentlessly toying with your clit.

“Stay still, baby,” he growled, and you tried to contain yourself as you’re pushed closer to your climax. You buried your hands into his hair as you reached your edge.

And suddenly, instead of his fingers, his cock is slipping inside you, making you moan at his size and force. JJ moaned, too, murmuring “How can someone feel this good?”

He fucked you aggressively, more rough and merciless than any guy you’ve ever known. The sensations he was giving you were almost more than you can handle, and a second orgasm cracked through you in no time at all. Somehow he knew precisely the right spots to hit, how to make you bend to his will. He was manipulative. Cruel. Greedy. And you loved it.

When he finally came inside of you, it was like heaven with a mixture of hell had been opened. There was only the two of you together, interlocked and soaking up the intoxicating effect you both had on each other.

When he finally pulled out, his breath was hot on your face and he leaned in menacingly. “Do you want to be mine, gorgeous?”

You nodded, closing your eyes. “Yes. I want to be yours. Forever.”

“I want to hear it again. Are you mine?” He snarled, brushing up against your ear.

“Yes, Jay. I’m yours and yours only.” The vows escaped your mouth instantly and you knew there was no escaping the hold he had on you.

He took the skin of your neck between his lips and pulled it taut, marking you as his own. He began to walk away, turning his head towards you one last time. “I’ll see you again soon.” Then he was gone, disappearing back into the shadows.

You were left standing against the wall, mind torn in different directions. One part of your mind screamed What the hell did you just do? And filled with dread that this is wrong. Wondered what your parents will say. The other half of your mind told you This was meant to happen. The feral need for him that overrode all else. You needed him, and that’s all you knew.

You saw him again the next morning, hanging outside with the Pogues. You felt his gaze scorching you the whole time. When you met his eyes, a smirk played at the corner of his lips. 

When you went to your house that night and he fucked you into your own mattress, he hissed “Your parents never have to find out about this. This can be just between the two of us.” And you could only nod in response. You were willing to lie to your own parents to keep him.

Jay got into the habit of sneaking into your room in the evenings, much to your dismay. You couldn’t risk being heard. You never told him to leave either. So quiet moans and hisses could be heard from your house as JJ buried his face between your legs.

When your friends found out about the relationship, they were a bit taken aback, but soon decided it was sweet. They always said JJ was “tough and reserved”, so they found it adorable that he finally found a girl. What they didn’t know, though, was how far he was willing to go to protect you.

Jay was somewhat surprised himself. He had fucked several girls before, consensually, but you were different. At first he convinced himself that it was only for his own benefit, to satisfy his lust, but over time he realized that there was something more. He had always considered love a burden, something meaningless and childish. It could have been the way your featured lit up whenever you laughed, or the sweet and soothing pressure of your lips. But he knew, deep down, that he had grown to love you.

That was why, whenever another guy got close to you, the rage Jay felt was enough to want to kill them. Slit their throats in an alleyway, leave a drop of poison in their drinks. Just to make sure you were never stolen from him.

And of course there were the times when he imagined sinking the blade of a knife into your tender, perfect skin, to see your enticing blood drip down your body. There was something that stopped him, though. Maybe it was because he knew he couldn’t live without you, but he managed to restrain himself. For now.

You sensed this desire, whenever you two kissed. You also sensed the possessiveness radiating from him as he trapped you in his arms. There was something alluring about it. How you knew he would kill for you.

[anon-e-miss]

Reformation - 2

Though Lockdown was tempted to frag the enforce bitch with his hook, he wanted more from this enforcer  than his energon, just bleeding him was far too easy. As Prowl had ruined the bounty hunter’s operations, Lockdown was going to ruin him. Sure, he had done a good job of that already, the edges of what had been the enforcer’s dock was soft and puffy. It might have been mistaken for swelling but Lockdown knew better. This was the beginning of the slut’s folds. They said you could tell how may knots an Omega had taken by how low their folds hung. He would have Prowl’s hang down to his knees if he got his way, and Lockdown fully intended to do just that. There was a bounty on his helm, a rather impressive one, the slut’s buddies in the enforcers were putting up a good chase but Lockdown and the Death’s Head were quicker than they could hope to be.

They were parked in Tarn at the moment. Because he loved to see the horror and the pain on the bitched Alpha’s face, Lockdown mostly kept him on his back. He wanted him to see. Lockdown held the enforcer’s red chevron and forced his forced him to wash as he raped his ruined spike. Lockdown groaned and grunt. It was tight, painfully so but Lockdown wanted to feel Prowl’s broken frame lubricate for him. Prowl sobbed and bleeded for it to end but Lockdown only got harder as he cried. When the bounty hunter pulled back, there was there was energon on his spike, but there was pink lube too. He might have popped the slut’s hip when he pushed it back but Lockdown did not care. The enforcer howled as Lockdown grunted offer him, fragging his new breeding hole with all the force his could muster. As his knot popped in Prowl’s belly, Lockdown crushed his chevron as he filled his belly with his hot cum. Grinning cruelly, he let the enforcer’s helm fall back. Then, he took his sharp hook and carved it across his cum filled belly.

“Cum dump,” Lockdown told him. “That’s all you’ll be from now on. Maybe after I tire of you, your enforcers will keep you for the precinct bicycle.”

***

“Let’s see if y’re really ready,” Jazz said. He rolled Prowl onto his back. Prowl’s optics went wide before they crossed as Jazz tested his valve with his digits, hooking them against his gamma cluster as his thumb rubbing against his anterior node. He revved his magnets. Prowl worried his hips before the dam broke and he squirted all over Jazz’s digits. 

“Oh! Oh!” Prowl cried. “Jazz!”

“Gimme another,” Jazz told him. “Come on, Prowler, make a mess o’ my servo.”

“Ah!” Prowl shrieked as he squirted again under the stimulation of Jazz’s digits. “Oh! Frag! Jazzzzz!”

“That’s it, that’s it,” Jazz crooned. Prowl screamed as he overloaded again.

“Oh frag,” Prowl rolled his helm back. 

He felt Jazz climbed between his legs. Prowl did not have time to remember Lockdown. Jazz held his gaze as he lined his spike up with Prowl’s wet core and eased slowly inside. Both the heat of Jazz’s gaze and the coiled heat in his belly as his valve was filled had Prowl drop his jaw, in a needy moan. It was good. It was so good. It had never been so good. Jazz pulled Prowl’s leg over his hip as he slowly sank his spike to the root in Prowl’s hungry frame. There was no pain, just code-deep satisfaction and unfamiliar bliss. Jazz kept his optics locked on Prowl’s and Prowl could not look away. He clung to Jazz as the Alpha moved in him, gently, so gently. Though he was in rut and he should have been desperate, Jazz was delicate with him. Why did he know it was what Prowl needed?

As Jazz’s knot began to swell and it ground against Prowl’s folds, he bowed his helm, grunting as he maintained control. Prowl looked up at the ceiling and saw Jazz hunched over him, saw his own servos digging into the Polyhexian’s shoulders and saw the way his aft and thighs tensed as he thrust he buried his spike in Prowl gestational tank. Prowl’s jaw fell open, as his folds strained around Jazz’s knot and then, stars as it swelled against his gamma cluster. Prowl overloaded as Jazz knotted his valve, their arrays grinding together, making his anterior node spark. Jazz flooded his belly with transfluids, hot and thick, they filled his gestational tank. As Jazz collapsed against him, Prowl sighed, code well satisfied.

“Ya good, Prowler?” Jazz asked, face buried in Prowl’s shoulder.

“Mhm,” Prowl sighed.

“Good.”

It took more than one interface to satisfy a heat. Prowl saw himself in the mirror. Jazz was lying with his helm at the foot of the berth and Prowl was on top of him. He saw his heavy wells bounce as he rode Jazz’s spike. His belly was full and his spark was hot. They had spent three mega-cycles interfacing and there would be at least three or four more. Physically, he thought, his endurance should have been fading but he did not hurt. There were none of the usual aches, some of them just memory purges, like the broken pelvic girdle and dislocated hip Lockdown had left him with. Jazz was too gentle to hurt him, too careful. He played with Prowl’s aft while Prowl rode his spike and the overload was intense. 

“That’s it, Sweetspark,” Jazz cooed at him as he took him in the shower. “Ya just hang on ‘n I’ll take care o’ everythin’.”

Sweetspark. Prowl might have laughed but he was too busy moaning as he clung to Jazz as he was pinned against the shower wall. Jazz was effortlessly strong as he held Prowl up and fragged him deep. 

The pleasure of interface went deep into his struts, to the marrow of them, it was constant, warm and reassuring. It was a part of the Omega he was not familiar with. Code deep security in the arms of an Alpha. Even though his rut should have been all encompassing at this stage as it chased down Prowl’s own heat, Jazz was unhurried. He lingered on things that served no purpose in breeding Prowl, liking fragging his aft because Prowl enjoyed it so well, l. Came to the service of his processor less and less. Jazz made it easy to forget his humiliations. 

“Ah, ah!” Prowl squeezed his own well with one servo as he clung to the headboard with the other. 

Jazz held him to his face, fragging his valve with his glossa as he fragged his aft with his servo. Prowl optics rolled back in his helm. He was overload in a flood, but Jazz did not let up. He buzzed his magnets against Prowl’s transfluid duct while he sucked his anterior note. This would not make him heavy, it was the only think Jazz should have been thinking about but Jazz buzzed his magnets again and urged Prowl to gride his sopping valve against his face. His face was still smeared with Prowl’s lubricants when he drove his spike into Prowl’s wet and willing frame. Prowl wailed with satisfaction as Jazz folded him in half and took thrust deep, so deep. The Alpha’s crouched over Prowl as he pinned the Omega’s legs to his shoulders. It felt like Jazz’s spike was plunging all the way to the back of his gestational tank. His servos dug into the berth as his peds curled. It was hard to think. It was impossible to think.

***

Tears blinded Prowl, not that it mattered. Lockdown held his helm in servo and hook as he violently fragged his face. Prowl’s jaw had not stopped aching since Lockdown had knotted his mouth the first time. He knew it was going to hurt when he did it again. The Alpha’s spike filled his throat, choking him with no reprieve. His frame was covered in insults Lockdown had carved into his sentio-metallico. They scarred his processor and his spark as much as they did his frame. His frame itself was the greatest scar. An Alpha could be bitched, reformated through exposure to transfluids and fragging, but an Omega could never be anything greater than that. The virulent code carried in Alpha transfluids could not be carved out. Even if a medic could install a quasi-functional replacement spike, the code could not be changed and they would have heats. No matter what, their code would demand they bend over and be bred. Unlike a rut, there was no ignoring it.

“Frag!” Lockdown roared as he knotted Prowl’s mouth and filled his fuel tank with vile transfluids. Pain, sharper than the constant ache made Prowl gasp and he choked as he could not escape the Alpha’s spike.

His wells were large, garishly large. Lockdown claimed the transfluids he force Prowl to swallow was what would have them balloon. It was all he gave Prowl to fuel so Prowl often went hungry. He loathed how his mouth watered when Lockdown ordered him to open his mouth as his frame had become conditioned. In heat, out of heat, it did not matter. Apart from when he was in heat, they were on the move. Prowl’s doorwings could sense the atmospheric changes and the vibrations of the Death’s Head in flight. They only lingered in any one place when Prowl was in heat, when Lockdown did not wish to focus on anything but breeding Prowl. He was desperate to make Prowl heavy with his bastard.

“Ow, it hurts!” Prowl had no pride left and no strength to block out the pain. He was weak, pathetic and weak.

Lockdown pushed his face into the console as he raped Prowl. It was worse when he was out of heat, when there was no fog to dull his processor. The bounty hunter grunted like a mechanimal against Prowl’s doorwings as he carved his valve open with his hard spike. Prowl cried, frame shaking as he sobbed. He should have been stoic, to rob Lockdown of some satisfaction but he could not silence himself. Lubricant, transfluids and energon, dry and fresh stained his thighs. Lockdown liked to see the stains on him so he never let Prowl clean himself. He was a filthy whore, because that was what Lockdown wanted him to be. Even if he could find the strength to struggle, Lockdown had threatened to share him with his friends. Lockdown was such a greedy mech, the threat rang a little hollow but Prowl did not dare risk it.

“It hurts,” he sobbed. The bounty hunter’s transfluids stung the tears in his valve, the Alpha’s knot tearing fresh ones at his opening. Through his tears, he saw the port Lockdown had chosen, Simfur. 

[uselessmicrowave]

kinktober day four

tfp knockout x starscream

tws/content- overstimulation, teasing, sounding, gags, bondage, aftercare, mentions of kobdss, edging

“Oh, poor Starscream,” Knockout mocks, “All tied up and helpless.” he walks towards the seeker, doing his best to look menacing.

He, tied up like a present and shaking, is trying so desperately not to rock or grind against the huge fake spike half inside, half under him. He can’t voice any of his wants because of a ball gag stuffed in his intake. The magnetic vibrator loudly hums against his anterior node, it’s driving him insane. His spike is stuffed with a ridged metal rod. Starscream feels so fragging full.

And all that’s needed to end this was a single comlink message. Then he would be cleaned, fed, massaged and cuddled. But… if Starscream could withstand a cycle (roughly an hour) of this, there would be a repeat session, only their places would be swapped.

He can’t wait for the solar cycle when he wipes that dumb, attractive, arrogant smile off of Knockout’s stupid fragging faceplates.

“Not much longer Star,” the mech slowly walks behind the seeker. “Unless you want to give up. That’d be much easier for you than being teased.” a servo brushes Starscream’s wing, making him whimper. Knockout traces the transformation lines at the base, moving outward on his wings. The shaking from his wing pushes the servo away, Knockout looks disappointed.

“Here, how about we try… this.” he dials the vibrator down, roughly taking the air commander’s wingtip in a servo. The pinch makes Starscream tense up and moan around the ball gag. “Want to speak?” Starscream nods weakly.

“Then stay still.” his servo glides from the air commander’s wing, over to his shoulder, up his neck cables, to the back of his helm. Two digits slide under the leathery strap.

Knockout, with his other servo, squeezes the other wingtip testing the seeker’s will to stay unmoving. A surprised yelp comes from him, but he does stay still, and Knockout said that he would have a chance to beg for an overload…

“Good bot.” the shiny mech flicks the buckle on the gag away from Starscream’s helm. The mouthpiece falls to the ground, Starscream’s oral lubricant spattering the floor where it was dropped. He pants with an open intake, lubricants dripping out of it. Starscream barely gets a couple vents before, “Aren’t you going to thank me?” the medic sneers, standing up. “Maybe I should put it back on.”

“No! Mphm- thank you, Knockout.” Starscream continues to pant heavily, he closes his optics and tilts his helm back in the relief of having his jaws relaxed. The air commander doesn’t pay attention to the footsteps of his counterpart. “Thank you…”

Unbeknownst to Starscream, Knockout was kneeling in front of him, reaching for the ring on the metal rod in his spike. Sharp tipped digits brush under the tip, through the thin ring. The seeker groans, stirring against the touch.

“Ah- Stay just like that, Star.” Knockout tips his helm back again. “Be a good bot for me.” the medic purrs, pulling and teasing at the rod, creating waves of bright pleasure.

“Hhnnn…” he bares his denta, whining, helpless and sensitive. “Hng- ah!” Starscream’s vocalizer cracks in a response to Knockout shoving the rod deeper into his spike, rubbing the tip, then slowly pulling it out of him in a repeating pattern.

A beeping sound comes from somewhere within the room, signaling the time was up. That would be all the teasing he had to endure.

“Mm-m Knockout…” the medic gives a quick kiss to shut him up, gently pulling the sounding rod out of his spike.

“I know, I know. No more. Just one last thing I want to try.” the shiny mech unties some of the knots around the seeker’s body, ropes droop from his lower half. Starscream relaxes his frame, causing him to sink down on the faux spike with a groan.

“Knockout…” Starscream whines.

“I know.” Knockout stands tall in front of the bot, still on his knee struts. “This time, you’ll be allowed to overload.”

“Really?” the shiny mech nods sweetly, taking Starscream’s faceplates and opening up his own panels. The half restrained bot needs an overload badly. It’s the least Knockout could do.

Starscream opens his intake, slowly starting to take the faux spike farther inside of him. He moans around Knockout’s spike, spreading his stabilizers wider. The seeker presses his glossa against the spike, trying to get some sort of praise or attention out of the red mech. Bouncing on the fake spike creates all the movement needed for the task at hand. Starscream groans, sending pleasant vibrations down Knockout’s spike.

“Be a good bot and overload for me.” an overload hits Starscream’s frame like a truck, he drops down onto the faux spike and tries desperately not to bite down on Knockout. His whole frame shakes and shudders.

The seeker’s transfluid soils the floor, making a mess of Knockout’s pedes as well. His wings droop, finally relaxed. The medic steps back so that Starscream can vent properly, smirking at the relieved expression on the commander’s faceplates.

“You were very good for me.” Knockout purrs, untying the few knots around Starscream’s frame, letting him ease onto the ground. The red mech snickers at him, helping the spent second in command up to their berth.

“Don’t laugh at me…” his words are slurred, Knockout can’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, fine. You want me to spoil you now?” Knockout mocks lovingly, knowing what the answer would be. He reaches for the little kit he set out beforehand. It’s full with energon candies and other treats, along with raspberry scented wax. Knockout isn’t sure what a raspberry is, but the wax smells nice.

“Knockout…” the seeker mumbles, faceplates in a pillow.

“Hm?”

“C’n you use the pads instead of the buffer?” Starscream mutters with a piece of candy in his intake.

“Yes, only for you.” the red mech applies some wax on Starscream’s spinal strut, making him sigh of ease. “And also maybe Breakdown…” Knockout quietly adds.

[mychlapci]

Horny Dratchrod shipper here to share thoughts.

One idea I've always had about Rodimus is that his reputation as a slut was entirely made up. Like he was friendly and fond of physical contact, so people see him cuddling up against Blurr or perching in Blaster's lap and assumptions get made. Thing is Hot Rod wanted to fit in so when he got brought into those interface talks and people telling what he did and people kind gave him a once over saying they were sure he was experienced he made shit up. Absolutely wild stuff he picked up from Kup's stories or porn.

And everyone believed it. It kind of shocked him because he was convinced people would call him out on it. Eventually it gets built up so much he's too nervous to take someone to bed because he doesn't know shit. He finally hooks up with someone, Doubledealer, who starts talking about how excited he is and Hot Rod distracts him with a blow job which is sloppy and inexperienced but he quickly becomes good at as a way to keep people from pushing. The lie is too big to confess so except for an occasional hot and heavy session of making out and masturbation and a handful of blowjobs Rodimus captains the Lost Light a virgin.

Something he wants to stop being but couldn't trust anyone to keep it to themselves. He was working up to telling Drift and getting him to help but then things went down. So finally post universe jump he nervously approaches Drift about if he and Ratchet would do him a big favor and confesses the whole virginity thing and being sealed and asks if they'd be willing to take them.

Dratchrod has not happened yet but Drift has been wanting to hunt Rodimus for sport since they met and Ratchet is not opposed to rocking his world. They don't do it right away though, Ratchet explains since he went so long his seal is going to be harder to pop and since Rodimus wants it done “naturally” rather than a quick hook and pull in the medbay then they'll have to soften them.

Cue a week of edging to get lubricant built up behind it and Drift and Ratchet dragging Rodimus into private meetings to apply lotion via shallow fingering to soften this side and sucking and licking his valve and spike housing, a magnet lock keeping his spike from extending and breaking that seal while the just lick and finger it teasing the tip of his spike mercilessly and making all the nodes at the edge of his valve sensitive and his valve lips swell up and inflamed against his panel making even just sitting hard but not letting him come. It gets to the point that Rodimus's seal is stretching and he's in a near constant state of one edge arousal which Ratchet declares him good enough and puts in time off for all three as they drag him panting, pretty, and begging to their bed to make a very pretty sandwich feeling.

Drift says Ratchet can get the valve and he'll take the spike. Ratchet is manhandling him and giving him gruff assurance he's doing good for them while Drift is being mean in between cooing. Rodimus is having the best night of his life and spends three days in between them in every position conceivable and just never leaves.

You know, I don't truly believe in the “Rodimus is a slut” thing (i only indulge in it for porn reasons) so the thought that Rodimus does have a reputation as a slut, but it's only made up and mildly perpetuated by some blowjobs and handjobs he's delivered over the years… it's perfect.

The rumour ends up spreading faster than he thought it would and lasts so long that it slowly becomes more and more embarrassing to admit it, as over time Rodimus has basically become the cybertronian equivalent of an adult virgin. But he trusts Drift with his secret, and to be honest, the thought of being coached by an older couple is very hot to him, which is precisely why he's not at all opposed to having both Drift and Ratchet help him out. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision (re: he's been wanting to ask for it for a while but held off until it just burst out of him one day) and Rodimus is a little surprised that they agreed so eagerly to take his seals…

Softening the seal is probably the most torturous, and longest week of his life. The seal needs to soak in lubricants to make it an easier to break, but by day 4 he's regretting not taking Ratchet up on his offer to just quickly remove it in the med-bay. He's so horny it's unreal and they keep teasing him. Maybe one day Rodimus asks what's the purpose of not letting him overload and they gladly admit that that part… is just for their own enjoyment. Rodimus is kept on the edge of arousal for an entire week and some change, and he can't even bring himself to touch himself when alone because there's already too many fluids pooled behind his seal and the pressure is getting so intense he doesn't think he can handle any more.

Rodimus dragged into their bedroom, valve wet and swollen behind his panels, with a week's worth of build up of lubricants behind the now protruding seal, and his spike is more than ready to extend past the confines of its sheath… Drift coaxing out Rodimus' spike with minimal effort, letting Ratchet take the valve because he's the doctor here and will know if anything goes wrong. Roddy squirming so much when a hand wraps around his spike while another pushes into his valve that he has to be held down. He's at his most sensitive and vulnerable but while Drift is being mean, teasing him for his squeaky little whines and the way his spike is leaking like he's already cumming, his grip on Rodimus' hips is gentle, and Ratchet's prodding at his seal is soft and careful. He can feel an exchange pass between Ratchet's and Drift's EM fields, but before he can register what it means, Drift is lowering himself on his spike and Ratchet is pushing his in…

Rodimus shouting out when his seal snaps open and lubricants pour out, his valve dripping a puddle onto the sheets below, and in his haze he apologizes for ruining their shared berth. It's almost adorable… Roddy overloading fast and hard, bucking his hips against Drift and Ratchet while his vents gasp and wheeze, but they keep going even as his inexperienced valve sparks with endless pleasure and his spike just won't stop throbbing. It’s so intense in such a good way that he gets why everyone was so obsessed with interfacing, and he can't believe he didn’t bite the bullet sooner… but, the night is still young. Hell, the week is still young, and Rodimus is still young, and he has plenty of time to get his world rocked by Drift and Ratchet over, and over, and over again

[kaijuposting]

Jaegers of Pacific Rim: What do we know about them?

There's actually a fair amount of lore about Pacific Rim's jaegers, though most of it isn't actually in the movie itself. A lot of it has been scattered in places like Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters, Tales From Year Zero, Travis Beacham's blog, and the Pacific Rim novelization.

Note that I will not be including information from either Pacific Rim: Uprising or Pacific Rim: The Black. Uprising didn't really add anything, and The Black's take on jaegers can easily be summed up as "simplified the concept to make a cartoon for children."

So what is there to know about jaegers, besides the fact that they're piloted by two people with their brains connected via computer?

Here's a fun fact: underneath the hull (which may or may not be pure iron), jaegers have "muscle strands" and liquid data transfer technology. Tendo Choi refers to them in the film when describing Lady Danger's repairs and upgrades:

Solid iron hull, no alloys. Forty engine blocks per muscle strand. Hyper-torque driver for every limb and a new fluid synapse system.

The novelization by Alex Irvine makes frequent references to this liquid data transfer tech. For example:

The Jaeger’s joints squealed and began to freeze up from loss of lubricant through the holes Knifehead had torn in it. Its liquid-circuit neural architecture was misfiring like crazy. (Page 29.)

He had enough fiber-optic and fluid-core cabling to get the bandwidth he needed. (Page 94.)

Newt soldered together a series of leads using the copper contact pins and short fluid-core cables. (Page 96.)

Unfortunately I haven't found anything more about the "muscle strands" and what they might be made of, but I do find it interesting that jaegers apparently have some sort of artificial muscle system going on, especially considering Newt's personnel dossier in the novel mentioned him pioneering research in artificial tissue replication at MIT.

The novelization also mentions that the pilots' drivesuits have a kind of recording device for their experiences while drifting:

This armored outer layer included a Drift recorder that automatically preserved sensory impressions. (Page 16.)

It was connected through a silver half-torus that looked like a travel pillow but was in fact a four-dimensional quantum recorder that would provide a full record of the Drift. (Page 96.)

This is certainly... quite the concept. Perhaps the PPDC has legitimate reasons for looking through the memories and feelings of their pilots, but let's not pretend this doesn't enable horrific levels of privacy invasion.

I must note, though, I haven't seen mention of a recording system anywhere outside of the novel. Travis Beacham doesn't mention it on his blog, and it never comes up in either Tales From Year Zero or Tales From The Drift, both written by him. Whether there just wasn't any occasion to mention it or whether this piece of worldbuilding fell by the wayside in Beacham's mind is currently impossible to determine.

Speaking of the drivesuits, let's talk about those more. The novelization includes a few paragraphs outlining how the pilots' drivesuits work. It's a two-layer deal:

The first layer, the circuity suit, was like a wetsuit threaded with a mesh of synaptic processors. The pattern of processor relays looked like circuitry on the outside of the suit, gleaming gold against its smooth black polymer material. These artificial synapses transmitted commands to the Jaeger’s motor systems as fast as the pilot’s brain could generate them, with lag times close to zero. The synaptic processor array also transmitted pain signals to the pilots when their Jaeger was damaged.

...

The second layer was a sealed polycarbonate shell with full life support and magnetic interfaces at spine, feet, and all major limb joints. It relayed neural signals both incoming and outgoing. This armored outer layer included a Drift recorder that automatically preserved sensory impressions.

...

The outer armored layer of the drivesuit also kept pilots locked into the Conn-Pod’s Pilot Motion Rig, a command platform with geared locks for the Rangers’ boots, cabled extensors that attached to each suit gauntlet, and a full-spectrum neural transference plate, called the feedback cradle, that locked from the Motion Rig to the spine of each Ranger’s suit. At the front of the motion rig stood a command console, but most of a Ranger’s commands were issued either by voice or through interaction with the holographic heads-up display projected into the space in front of the pilots’ faces. (Page 16.)

Now let's talk about the pons system. According to the novelization:

The basics of the Pons were simple. You needed an interface on each end, so neuro signals from the two brains could reach the central bridge. You needed a processor capable of organizing and merging the two sets of signals. You needed an output so the data generated by the Drift could be recorded, monitored, and analyzed. That was it. (Page 96.)

This is pretty consistent with other depictions of the drift, recording device aside. (Again, the 4D quantum recorder never comes up anywhere outside of the novel.)

The development of the pons system as we know it is depicted in Tales From Year Zero, which goes into further detail on what happened after Trespasser's attack on San Francisco. In this comic, a jaeger can be difficult to move if improbably calibrated. Stacker Pentecost testing out a single arm describes the experience as feeling like his hand is stuck in wet concrete; Doctor Caitlin Lightcap explains that it's resistance from the datastream because the interface isn't calibrated to Pentecost's neural profile. (I'm guessing that this is the kind of calibration the film refers to when Tendo Choi calls out Lady Danger's left and right hemispheres being calibrated.)

According to Travis Beacham's blog, solo piloting a jaeger for a short time is possible, though highly risky. While it won't cause lasting damage if the pilot survives the encounter, the neural overload that accumulates the longer a pilot goes on can be deadly. In this post he says:

It won't kill you right away. May take five minutes. May take twenty. No telling. But it gets more difficult the longer you try. And at some point it catches up with you. You won't last a whole fight start-to-finish. Stacker and Raleigh managed to get it done and unplug before hitting that wall.

In this post he says:

It starts off fine, but it's a steep curve from fine to dead. Most people can last five minutes. Far fewer can last thirty. Nobody can last a whole fight.

Next, let's talk about the size and weight of jaegers. Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters lists off the sizes and weights of various jaegers. The heights of the jaegers it lists (which, to be clear, are not all of them) range from 224 feet to 280 feet. Their weights range from 1850 tons to 7890 tons. Worth noting, the heaviest jaegers (Romeo Blue and Horizon Brave) were among the Mark-1s, and it seems that these heavy builds didn't last long given that another Mark-1, Coyote Tango, weighed 2312 tons.

And on the topic of jaeger specs, each jaeger in Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters is listed with a (fictional) power core and operating system. For example, Crimson Typhoon is powered by the Midnight Orb 9 power core, and runs on the Tri-Sun Plasma Gate OS.

Where the novelization's combat asset dossiers covers the same jaegers, this information lines up - with the exception of Lady Danger. PR:MMM says that Lady Danger's OS is Blue Spark 4.1; the novelization's dossier says it's BLPK 4.1.

PR:MMM also seems to have an incomplete list of the jaegers' armaments; for example, it lists the I-22 Plasmacaster under Weaponry, and "jet kick" under Power Moves. Meanwhile, the novelization presents its armaments thus:

I-22 Plasmacaster Twin Fist gripping claws, left arm only Enhanced balance systems and leg-integral Thrust Kickers Enhanced combat-strike armature on all limbs

The novel's dossiers list between 2-4 features in the jaegers' armaments sections.

Now let's move on to jaeger power cores. As many of you probably already know, Mark-1-3 jaegers were outfitted with nuclear power cores. However, this posed a risk of cancer for pilots, especially during the early days. To combat this, pilots were given the (fictional) anti-radiation drug, Metharocin. (We see Stacker Pentecost take Metharocin in the film.)

The Mark-4s and beyond were fitted with alternative fuel sources, although their exact nature isn't always clear. Striker Eureka's XIG supercell chamber implies some sort of giant cell batteries, but it's a little harder to guess what Crimson Typhoon's Midnight Orb 9 might be, aside from round.

Back on the topic of nuclear cores, though, the novelization contains a little paragraph about the inventor of Lady Danger's power core, which I found entertaining:

The old nuclear vortex turbine lifted away from the reactor housing. The reactor itself was a proprietary design, brainchild of an engineer who left Westinghouse when they wouldn’t let him use his lab to explore portable nuclear miniaturization tech. He’d landed with one of the contractors the PPDC brought in at its founding, and his small reactors powered many of the first three generations of Jaegers. (Page 182.)

Like... I have literally just met this character, and I love him. I want him to meet Newt Geiszler, you know? >:3

Apparently, escape pods were a new feature to Mark-3 jaegers. Text in the novelization says, "New to the Mark III is an automated escape-pod system capable of ejecting each Ranger individually." (Page 240.)

Finally, jaegers were always meant to be more than just machines. Their designs and movements were meant to convey personality and character. Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters says:

Del Toro insisted the Jaegers be characters in and of themselves, not simply giant versions of their pilots. Del Toro told his designers, "It should be as painful for you to see a Jaeger get injured as it is for you to see the pilot [get hurt.]" (Page 56.)

Their weathered skins are inspired by combat-worn vehicles from the Iraq War and World War II battleships and bombers. They look believable and their design echoes human anatomy, but only to a point. "At the end of the day, what you want is for them to look cool," says Francisco Ruiz Velasco. "It's a summer movie, so you want to see some eye candy." Del Toro replies, "I, however, believe in 'eye protein,' which is high-end design with a high narrative content." (Page 57.)

THE JAEGER FROM DOWN UNDER is the only Mark 5, the most modern and best all-around athlete of the Jaegers. He's also the most brutal of the Jaeger force. Del Toro calls him "sort of brawler, like a bar fighter." (Page 64.)

And that is about all the info I could scrounge up and summarize in a post. I think there's a lot of interesting stuff here - like, I feel that the liquid circuit and muscle tissue stuff gives jaegers an eerily organic quality that could be played for some pretty interesting angles. And I also find it interesting that jaegers were meant to embody their own sort of character and personality, rather than just being simple combat machines or extensions of their pilots - it's a great example of a piece of media choosing thematic correctness over technical correctness, which when you get right down to it, is sort of what Pacific Rim is really all about.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Belly Dance Observations Week 4

I am now going on record to state that belly dance is an essential ingredient for every female body interested in accessing its innate divine feminine power in a more accelerated journey. What I noticed this week was that my breasts have reverted back to their 20 year old texture. But it’s not about the aesthetics —they are lovely don’t get me wrong, but I'm 47 and not looking for my 20 year breasts...it is just what happened naturally. What enlivens me, what lights up my eyes and dilates my blood vessels, is that I have accessed another portal to tapping into larger untapped kinetic potential (energy, mystery, and freedom) held in the female body. More inner sunlight!

Speaking to another dance student in my class —a 60 year old body-aware ex-ballerina, she shared how she felt the same way when she first started and continues to feel that heightened radiance after each class. I get it though! The hips, spine, and belly hold power that fuels our entire ecosystem. They are the sunlight currency systems! Because I’m a pole dancer, a building/strengthening and flexibility-inducing sexy art, I felt the clarion call to nurture my center of reality with more fluidity and yin, to soften my belly and hips sort of speak. A soft belly with strong flexible legs means that the body is receiving an abundance of earth and water energy from the ground, the earth. Water and earth energy create a strong healthy lubricated female body wellspring. A lubricated female body is actually pulsing with the universe, which isn't about sex, as lovely and delicious as heart-connected sex can be. It is about creation. The creation of new narratives. The shimmies, hip drops, and belly shakes/pumps heat up or activate kundalini to help clear densely-blocked channels in our bellies from unresolved emotions in this recent life and past lives and the detached depression we continue to carry from our foremothers/forefathers trying to navigate inhumane, insanity, predatory Western systems, AND the repression from violence against our grandmothers and the accompanying terror of living in a female body throughout lifetimes.

Whew chile! No wonder so many of us behave out of alignment with our highest potential. But the beauty is that we are shifts and plot twists in our grandmothers' narratives. We have the opportunity NOW to heal in ways that our beloved grandmothers didn't have the opportunity to. Couple that with the fact that if we had a rough childhood, we must process those suppressed emotions throughout our bodies—loosen the shit up so that they can decalcify and be transmuted into more space and love that opens the way to making NEW CHOICES and IMPLEMENTING NEW HABITS🕊️! If you are highly-sensitive and empathetic like I am as well and have been working to open up your heart—to increase your frequency/magnetism through accessing more of your heart space, belly dance (or some other passionate movement like belly self-massages or other belly/hip grabbing, ass-gripping, and spine-undulating, deep-breathing touch during lovemaking) is essential and completely non-negotiable. Hot damn!

My teacher asked the other day how old I was. And she had to sit down in a chair in disbelief when I told her. I live a regenerative life and am always discovering new ways this body my soul essence lives inside of can come alive so that I share the discoveries with other women and non-binary people. I am sooooo in love with belly dance! If you are not resourced enough to get to a class, go to YouTube and find tutorials there. Play around there with moving your belly, back and hips in 4-dimensional ways. Trance out with it.

Such a big part of what I believe my role as a woman/myth being is to bequeath other women with the wisdom to navigate this human existence, to land fully in their bodies in this incarnation, and know in deepest sense that all of us is worthy and welcomed. We get to be in relationship with our bodies and all the feels-- from deep love to deep anger to sadness to pristine ecstasy. To feel them and let them run/drip/leak/undulate and be seen/felt in them and sometimes go deeply into what’s underneath when desired. In my last class, I cried for some unknown reason. It was incredibly liberating to just let it flow and move on.

Sometimes what I witness happen with women is that when we start feel our denser suppressed emotions like anger or rage, we stay in them for years....unconsciously-- without awareness, creating other calcifications like fibriods or tumors from either being easily triggered by the external world, not detoxifying and moving enough through our processes, or of course, never accessing what has been suppressed. And I get it too--it's a lot happening all at once and it can be a tough game to play . But this is the times we are living in and sometimes it's just hard so learn to be okay with life being hard while also keenly aware that it doesn’t always have to be. We have to be lovers again. A lover state of being is essential for our bodies' highest harmonies. But we also must be a bit like martial arts and warriors. Capoeira-style in the shape of belly dancers. We have to be here for all of it.

With feeling, also *practice* feeling the emotions that may be less natural for you to feel right now like joy, gratitude, appreciation, tenderness, ecstasy, softness, sweetness, relaxation, and serenity. Normalize these states so that your body receives neurotransmitters, endorphins, oxytocin, and serotonin that help to nourish and repair it. Rest, hike, touching, kissing, really good sex, good nourishing food, healthy relationships, laughter, limiting social media/tv, creativity/finishing projects, good music, and of course dance. As you release and open, you may find yourself rarely usurping emotions like "anger." Not that anything is bad/wrong about the very useful emotion of anger but when you consciously create your life, the more fulfilled you become, the less necessary the energy of anger becomes for you in how you process or experience life. But if ever needed again, you know how to access your anger, embrace it, and hold yourself in it by feeling it into a warm flow.

[whispersafterdusk]

Two Heads are Better than One

It was such an unlikely problem that neither he nor Nero had considered it at first, which had they it would have saved them three days and roughly seven additional hours of troubleshooting.

The main steering column's gears, which they had sworn were made of pure alloys and couldn't possibly be contaminated with anything...was, in fact, contaminated with minute traces of iron - amounts so small that they had gone wholly undetected during the manufacturing process because its presence was masked by the other metals and, for whatever reason, had not properly integrated into the alloy itself.

Which, ordinarily, shouldn't have even registered as a problem it was such a minuscule amount.

However... When one considered that the tiny, tiny flakes of iron within those gears heated at different rates that meant that unexpected surface wear was happening on a level that couldn't be detected until finally they ran an analysis on the oil and found traces of magnetic particles.

Those were it. Those were the source of the damned steer-slip issue. Incredibly small magnetic particles that were coming loose from the column, getting caught up in the lubrication system, and being deposited at the universal joint where they were causing that ever-so-slightly-perceptible 'slip' in the steering. They'd finally, finally, pinpointed the damn issue.

Now that they had their culprit they needed to figure out the 'why' and 'how' because next they needed to determine where in the process things had gone wrong and allowed this to happen, but for tonight? Tonight they were both heading out for a well deserved drink - it had taken both their brains to get to the bottom of the mystery and to safeguard against this again would take new processes and possibly a new way to analyze their alloys (along with possibly changing merchants -- they couldn't risk this happening again, whether the contamination was knowingly sold or purely accidental).

He was going to make his drink a double. ((References prompt 1))

[booleanean]

Day 9 - Aphrodisiacs - Robots with Dicks

"Oh fuck, yes, yes," Carla panted.

She heard Felix scribble something on his clipboard. For an AI postdoc, he was oddly attached to pen and paper.

The Mk1's chassis had been completed weeks ago. Carla had stared at it, stood in the corner of their basement workshop, waiting for Felix to finish training the AI, until finally she couldn't take it anymore.

"Yes, harder, faster." Carla moaned as the robot's control loop interpreted the commands and thrust into her with greater intensity.

Every inch of it was as good as she could make it, artificial filament muscles covered in variably translucent silicone to visually measure performance, hydraulic actuators in the torso visible behind 3D printed transparent aluminium. Strength was about twice what the strongest human could achieve without modification or drugs, dexterity on par with the best industrial robots from ten years ago, but on a fully mobile base. It was the peak of humanoid robotics, right at the very bleeding edge of technology. Their research paper was going to omit certain additions she'd made to it, though she had been half tempted to see if they could win a Nobel and Ig Nobel for the same project.

Felix looked up long enough from his clipboard to stroke her hair.

"Feel good?"

"Oh fuck yes, I'm close."

Even the penis attachments were works of art. Integrated in a special modular pelvis, she'd created two prototypes. The one that was rocking her world right now was a basic steel shaft with an internal set of ducting keeping it at body temperature, and a separate network of microtubules dispensing lubrication along the entire length. Pressure transducers and temperature sensors fed back into the control loop, letting the robot respond to her physiological responses as well as her voice commands.

She was saving the other prototype for the full AI integration test. The basic functionality worked the same as a mammalian penis. Silicone stood in for flesh, with a body safe hydraulic fluid for blood, filling corpora cavernosa made of custom designed aerogel. It even had realistic skin that slid along the basic structure. The sensors were also inspired by biological systems, with increased density in the tip. The piece de resistance was a realistic set of testicles, weighted properly, that contained most of the operating mechanics and a fully functional ejaculation system tuned to mimic anything from a pathetic little dribble to a pressure and volume any porn star would sign away their immortal soul for.

She already had plans for another, more futuristic attachment with a direct magnetic nerve stimulator for the clit and g-spot.

"Fuck YES!" Carla screamed as she came.

The sensors in the robot's dick tripped the control loop into a new regime, keeping the same pace perfectly, matching her thrashing movements, letting her focus on nothing but her own pleasure. The impassive face, silicon lips pressed tightly together, eyes scanning her face mechanically, pulled her out of the moment a little but the perfect fucking it was delivering got her close to the edge again right on the heels of her first orgasm. Just before her pleasure peaked, the robot pulled back out of her completely and sat back on its heels between her legs.

"CONTROL LOOP FAILURE, SAFETY MODE ENGAGED."

She screamed her frustration at the abrupt feeling of emptiness and ruined orgasm so tight on the heels of such a good one.

"Fuck, that sucked." Carla tried to catch her breath. "Mk1, go stand in the corner."

"COMMAND UNCLEAR, PLEASE RESTATE."

She pushed it off the bed with her foot, the basic inverse kinematics keeping it stable as it shifted to the floor. At least that was still working.

"Walk forward four paces, turn forty-five degrees clockwise, walk two more paces, then go into standby mode."

Carla pulled at Felix's shirt, trying to get it off over his head while he tried to hold on to his clipboard.

"Are you going to take notes, or are you going to fuck me? The Mk1 clearly isn't up to the task yet."

He froze, then tossed his clipboard aside. They kissed as he fumbled his pants off. He was inside of her seconds later, rock hard. They'd fantasized together about being with other people, but never wanted to make it a reality. The fantasy was hot, real people was too far for both of them. When they'd been working on the Mk1 together, Carla had suggested a little side project. Felix clearly really got off on seeing her with it, he was rock hard.

"Yes, fuck me, fuck me." Carla rocked her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She held his gaze, urging him on. Within minutes, he had her back at the edge, years of being together had taught him exactly what she liked. She held herself there, holding back, waiting for him.

"Cum in me, fill me, yes, YES!" Carla felt Felix stiffen inside of her and then warmth flooded her. She let go and screamed his name as she came, "Felix, Felix, Felix!"

When he collapsed on top of her, she stroked his back. He was still inside of her, and she could still feel the occasional twitch of his cock.

"Of course! There was no path from the 'partner orgasm occurring' state into the 'partner orgasm starting' state! God damnit, I forgot to account for multiple orgasms in quick succession. Fuck."

Felix kissed her, muffling her last word. He pushed up on his hands, hovering over her, still inside. "The tensor farm should be done testing the latest model by 8pm. If this one is all green, we can probably have it installed by 10 and give it another shot with the AI this time."

"I'll rewire the state machine for the control loop in case there's any red tests still."

This had been their sex life for the last couple of months, since they started the project to build the ultimate sex bot. After, often with Felix still inside of her, they'd discuss ideas about what they could change, or features they had to have. This was the first time after a field test though.

"Did you like watching me with it?"

"Oh yes. God damn, that was hot."

"Would you ever want to try it? Both cocks are self lubricating, you know."

"Mmm, maybe. I want to see if we can get a threesome mode working first though."

After dinner they guided the bot back onto its stand in the basement workshop with a dozen cables leading to various parts to extract telemetry, recharge, and provide data connections for reprogramming. Carla was getting distracted trying to rewire the state machine, each possible transition suddenly causing both real and imagined sense memories. Felix looked tastier and tastier as she worked. He was futzing with parameters, rerunning partial tests on subsystems. The tests had all been green, but he'd had ideas to get everything optimized before their first live test.

By 2am, they had the first version of Felix's AI uploaded to the Mk1. She and Felix had curated a lot of videos from Pornhub over the last couple of months, finding performances they liked. Lots of hotwife scenes and threesomes, some bisexual stuff, but mostly relatively vanilla scenes. Carla had added some scenes where the male performer was a bit more rough than Felix was comfortable with doing himself, spanking and pinning wrists above heads. For vocal interactions, they'd retrained a large language model on erotica and textual descriptions of the scenes in the porn videos, generated by an off the shelf accessibility AI.

There wasn't any actual universal intelligence in the robot of course. This was a sexy version of an AI chat bot that most phones had built in now, combined with a convoluted control loop for its physical interactions. Simply a very clever way of giving the impression that something was smart, when really all it was doing was basic pattern recognition based on a predefined dataset.

"Want to give it a shot?" Felix asked, but Carla shook her head.

"I want you, not the bot."

Shutting the bot down for the night, Carla drew Felix upstairs back to their bedroom. As they made love, they teased each other with all the amazing things they'd do with the robot tomorrow and in the weeks to come.

The next weekend, Carla really had to admit Felix had been right. Her control loop version of the robot's software was good. It got her off just fine, but it was impersonal. As its designer, she had a hard time focusing on herself as she felt it roll into new control regimes. The AI felt much more human. He looked at you, used his hands for more than balance, and even showed some imperfections in his motions. He got (artificially) winded, slipped out, fell over, all the things a real human partner would do. The experience was so much more realistic, she sometimes forgot it was a robot fucking her if she couldn't see him.

She sat at her desk in their upstairs office now, working on the more serious portion of her research. They had run a series of strength and dexterity tests that afternoon, characterizing the robot's ability to maintain precision while assert force at different levels, and she was processing the data. Felix was downstairs in the lab, tinkering with parameters and adjusting the training data for the next version of the AI.

Carla heard the neighbor plug in his bass guitar, the amp turned way up. She muttered under her breath about people not respecting their tools. Didn't he know he could damage the speaker like that? The noise wasn't too bad, but listening to Seven Nation Army played by a spirited amateur over and over again didn't really appeal either. Her noise cancelling headphones were in the basement with Felix though, so for now she'd just suffer through.

Her phone beeped halfway through the neighbor's warmup.

Felix: Robot reacting to bass music. Carla: "music" Felix: He's getting better. Anyway:

The next message was the robot's dick, the biomorphic one, clearly at half mast.

Carla: Is he on? Felix: in standby Carla: Odd. Sensors recording? Felix: Yup, caught it before the buffer flushed. AI parameter log too. Carla: nice

Before she could really get back into her work, the neighbor finished Seven Nation Army. The next tune he played was the Pornhub sting. She almost spat out her drink. He did a pretty good version, though the lack of drums made it not quite perfect.

Before she could get back into her work, Felix yelled from down in the basement.

"Carla, come take a look at this!"

The Mk1 was standing in its alcove, still docked to all the various wires and cables. Felix was standing in front of it, studying the biomorphic cock. It was throbbing like a real one would.

"Remember how it was at half mast during the first song the neighbor was playing? Despite it being in standby? I think I figured out the reason."

The neighbor, who had just finished House of the Rising Sun, chose that moment to play another couple of Pornhub opening stingers. The Mk1 responded, humping the air slightly, his cock throbbing.

"You didn't cut out the intros on the training data so—"

"— now every time it hears bass music, and the Pornhub riff in particular, it gets aroused. It's still in standby, it's barely drawing current, but there's enough residual charge in the artificial muscle fibers for, well, this." He gestured at the robot's midsection, still rocking back and forth.

"Aren't the tensor cores supposed to be off?" Carla watched a slow drop of lubricant fall from the tip of the twitching robot cock.

Felix shook his head, "Some stay on to parse voice commands."

She reached out, touching the silicone cock. It was slick, the lubricant dispensers clearly activated. It was interesting to see that it was apparently simulating precum as well, despite that not necessarily being the focus of their training data. The artificial dick twitched at her touch, and she grasped it firmly, stroking up and down. A slow trickle of fake cum was leaking out the tip now, covering her hand.

"So we're thinking bass guitar is a robo-aphrodisiac then? Because you trained it on videos with Pornhub intros?"

"Mm-hmm."

"That's hilarious."

"And means I have to remove the intro from over fifteen hundred videos, and then retrain and retest the entire model." Felix sighed heavily. "Again."

"There's an ffmpeg command for that, surely."

"The trimming, sure."

Carla kept stroking the robot's cock, watching the artificial foreskin slide back and forth over the head.

"Seems like a shame to waste this though. It really shouldn't be erect out in the open air for too long, it's designed with the idea of at least some counter pressure. Also, it would be a shame to not gather some extra data. It might be interesting to have a robo-aphrodisiac function, though maybe something more specific that won't just trigger if someone forgets to unplug their Bluetooth speaker when they're going to rub one out."

Felix grinned at her, then nodded.

Carla pulled her sweat pants and top off, standing naked in front of the mechanical man. "Mk1, wake up."

The Mk1 went through his wakeup sequence, part mandated by technology, part for show because they were both massive nerds. The cables, mostly plugged in along his arms and back, ejected and retracted into the alcove like Neo waking up in the real world for the first time. The sound effect of Seven of Nine's alcove powering down at the end of her regeneration cycle played, and Mk1 took a single step forward.

"Hello Carla, nice to see you again. What would you like to do today?"

Felix had campaigned long and hard for the robot to say "Please state the nature of the sexual emergency" but eventually she had put her foot down. The chances of that ending up in a version they showed off at their defense were too high, and while Robert Picardo could get it, the Doctor was a bit too acerbic for her tastes.

She walked over to the mattress they kept in the basement for quick tests, standing at the foot. She was in the mood for something a bit more rough than just the vanilla stuff they'd tried with the bot so far, and this heightened state it was operating in seemed to be a perfect opportunity to try that out.

"Take me. Be a little rough."

Before, he'd always asked for confirmation before initiating anything sexual. It hadn't been hardwired, but the AI training data was heavily incentivized towards asking consent first. This time though, with three long, powerful strides he was inches away from her. The intensity of his movements were a little scary, but she had the utmost faith in her and Felix's work. Still, she took a half step back reflexively.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Felix asked.

Carla stood staring at the Mk1, transfixed by his gaze. She knew it was just servos and cameras and tensor cores running a neural network, there was nothing there, but she still couldn't look away.

"I need this," Carla whispered.

With that, Mk1 took one more step, pushing her over and onto the mattress. He guided her down as they tumbled, cushioning her fall a little and making sure her head didn't hit the ground, but it was still an intense experience.

Decided to fight a little, she tried to push him off. He gathered her wrists in one hand and effortlessly pinned her arms above her head.

"Pause," Carla said.

Immediately, the Mk1 froze. He still held her, but the pressure on her wrists was lower, and he held all his weight off of her.

"Good, that still works just fine. Resume."

The intensity the Mk1 showed was unreal. She'd enjoyed him before, but with this added level of robotic arousal added on top, she could finally completely lose herself in the act. There was no room for thinking about kinematics and control loops, muscle fiber force limits, defects, or additions to the training data. There was no worry about her partner's pleasure, no anxiety for her own performance. All that was there was her own pleasure, pure and uncomplicated.

She fantasized about a future where a Mk2 and Mk3 could join in with the Mk1, taking turns getting her off, letting them recharge and refuel in shifts as they spent an entire day teasing her from orgasm to orgasm.

Mk1's synthesized voice, indistinguishable from human despite being produced by a speaker rather than a voice box, let her know how good this felt for him. All artificial of course, but so necessary for a realistic experience. Soft moans, grunts, little gasps. Even simulated breathing growing shorter as he exerted himself. It had still sounded artificial to her previously, but now it just went straight to the pleasure center of her brain, letting her enjoy the moment even more. She came, crying out as he whispered her name in her ear.

Just as her wrists were beginning to hurt, he shifted, pulling her legs up against his chest. The new position let him reach new and interesting places inside of her, the intentional curve she'd put on his cock letting him hit her g-spot. As she approached her second orgasm of the afternoon, he started moaning louder, grunting. When she came, so did he. The twitching of his cock was entirely lifelike, his orgasm forceful enough she could feel it deep inside of her.

She lay there panting, and he emulated her, letting her bask in the moment. Felix had sat next to her on the mattress, watching her closely. She could see his erection clearly in his sweats.

"That looked intense," he said when she looked over to him.

"Oh yes. We definitely need this feature."

"Would you like to continue?" the Mk1 asked.

Carla flicked her gaze down to Felix's sweats then looked him in the eyes. "Join us?"

Felix grinned and started pulling his shirt off.

[brandwhorestarscream]

7- plug 'n play, wheeljack x ratchet?

You know what comes to mind for this?? Actual valve plugs

Wheeljack's been on Ratchet all night long: spike buried in his cute little valve and stuffing him so full over and over again. He's so full of transfluid his gestation tank is nearing max capacity, and he swears he can actually feel a slight change in weight. Palming his belly on the berth while they're snuggled together enjoying the afterglow, Wheeljack gets a diabolical idea. Slots a nice little valve plug into his partner, magnetized and locking in on his command. Ratchet is too sleepy and throughly fucked-out to protest, but come morning?

Oh, he is in for it

Wheeljack is already gone by the time he wakes up for his shift, already squirreled away in his lab cooking up his next disaster. Ratchet slides his legs out of berth and his knees nearly buckle when he tries to stand: the plug is still snugly fitted in his valve. Gently tugging on it reveals its still magnetized there, and he can't override the damn thing.

It feels filthy, going into work at the medbay with a sex toy nestled inside him. It's an honest effort not to waddle, especially when his traitorous valve starts to slick up. The plug goes pretty deep, meant to keep transfluid inside, and is rubbing and stroking the walls of his valve with every step. Grinding itself into sensitive nerve clusters, the first sparks of arousal start up in his lines and he knows it's going to be a long day. By the time he gets to the medbay, his valve is sopping wet and clenching as well as it can around the plug, trying to drag it in further to simulate the thrusting of a spike, and when that doesn't work, the calipers start whirring against his will, spinning and tightening and loosening to try and force an overload. He's biting his lips all day, knock kneed and constantly shifting on his pedes, desperately trying not to squirm. Its hard to concentrate, and by the time Wheeljack finally frees him, he's a mess.

Legs shaking and threatening to dump him on the floor, he doesn't protest when his mate backs him into a corner, grabbing his hips to lift him onto a countertop. Wheeljack spreads his thighs, optics glinting as the medic's interface panel snaps back eagerly. Ratchet moans and tries to cover his mouth, rocking back and forth. His valve is visibly swollen, biolights pulsing feverishly, leaking so much glowing lubricant its a miracle it hadn't started leaking down his thighs. Wheeljack deactivates the plug, pulls it out, and Ratchet immediately comes undone. Crashing overload he's been edged toward for his entire shift hits him like a bolt of lightning, electric, white hot ecstasy flooding his body and making him sob while his valve gushes all over the counter. Wheeljack kisses one thigh and leans in to start cleaning the wet, messy valve with his glossa, already looking forward to the next time

[birdie-writ3s]

Sultry Nights of the War

Prompt: NSFW: Top!General Lilia x Bottom! Baul

Author’s Note: Hi Birb here! It’s been a while since I last posted something here, Baul Brainrot is real so here is a short smut between Gen Lilia and Baul <3 There are a lot of historical inaccuracies here so I hope you forgive me in advance (such as sex toys during the fae-human war!). Have a nice day/night darlings/fledglings~!

CW: OCC Characters! (Since I still haven’t analyzed Baul’s speech patterns, but for this time, I will make him a little bit softer considering that in this au, Lilia and him will be “lovers”.) NSFW, Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Blowjob, Unprotected Sex (Since it took place in the equivalent of middle ages in Earth, I doubt condoms have been invented already), Degradation, and wrong grammar!

Word Count: 1511 Words

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In the dimly illuminated tent, the air heavy with tension, General Lilia Vanrouge and Baul Zigvolt found themselves in an unexpected and compromising position. They were alone themselves, temporarily forgetting the weight of their obligations as they struggled with the complicated emotions of their forbidden desires.

The day had been long, filled with endless meetings and strategic discussions. The intensity of the battlefield had followed them into the encampment; the weight of their duty was etched deep into their furrowed brows. However, in the middle of the chaos and the horrors of war, a powerful connection had developed between them—a magnetic pull that neither could withstand.

As the evening settled upon the camp, a rare moment of solitude presented itself. Seeking solace and release from the burdens they carried, General Lilia and Baul sought refuge in an empty tent, their hearts racing with carnal desire. It was a forbidden act they were about to engage in, yet the unyielding attraction between them demanded acknowledgment.

The General closed the tent flap behind him, the sound of the rustling fabric echoing in the cramped space as locked gazes conveyed unspoken vows. Their faces were enveloped in shadows by the flickering lighting, which highlighted the yearning that was carved into their features. In that instant, hierarchy and rules vanished, leaving only mutual, primal yearning.

With a mix of hesitation and determination, Lilia closed the distance between them, his hand trembling slightly as it brushed against Baul's cheek. Any concerns or worries were dispelled by the touch, which ignited an electric current that rushed through their bodies. They exchanged a smoldering kiss that threatened to engulf them both in need and longing. Their desire to delve further into their shared passion was fueled by a taste of desperation mixed with the pleasure of forbidden love. The clothes were shed, piece by piece, revealing the vulnerability that lay beneath their stoic exteriors.

As they finished their passionate kiss, Baul knelt before the general. He skillfully and quietly unbuckled the belt of the General’s pants to release the aching member.

“Eager as always, Baul? Ready to take my cock into your mouth-pussy?” Lilia chuckled as he watched Baul eagerly pull out his undergarment, revealing his big, fat cock.

“Ready as always, my general” Baul replied before softly licking Lilia’s cock head.

Lilia groaned as he sensed Baul softly licking his cock. Soon, he could not take it anymore as Lilia grabbed Baul’s hair before thrusting inside his throat. He repeatedly thrust inside Baul’s throat, hitting the deepest part of his mouth-pussy.

“Ugh- you make me feel so good. Your mouth-pussy is as tight as always”, Lilia moaned as he cried one last time before finally releasing his seed inside Baul’s mouth.

“Uhmm! You taste so good, Lilia! I couldn’t get enough of your seed” Baul said as he swallowed the remaining cum of Lilia’s release.

The night escalated to the next level as Lilia reached out for the lubricant, and Baul proceeded to remove his underwear, revealing his plump ass to his lover.

“I prepared myself earlier for you, my dear”, Baul proudly said as he showed off his ass to the general.

“What a good boy! I think my little slut deserves a reward!” Lilia hummed, as he proceeded to pour the lubricant on his hand. He then started stretching Baul’s ass as he inserted the first digit.

“Tight as always, hun, are you sure you prepared yourself earlier?” Lilia teased as he started finding the right spot that would make his lover cry from ecstasy.

“Of course I did! I eve-aaahh!” Baul lewdly moaned as he felt Lilia’s second digit entering his ass.

“Hmmm? What did you do?” Lilia teasingly asked as he continued thrusting his fingers at a fast pace.

“I-I-I even used the toy that you gave me A-a-aHHH!” Baul gasped as he felt that Lilia finally found the right spot.

Lilia wickedly grinned as he continued to abuse that spot, leaving Baul moaning in ecstasy, eventually leading to his first orgasm of the night.

Unbeknownst to the two people passionately making love to each other, a young fae soldier named Phillip found himself hiding behind a large oak tree, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. He had stumbled upon a secluded clearing in the camp, a spot that seemed untouched by the hustle and bustle of the other soldiers. Little did he know, he was about to witness an extremely intimate moment between his two superiors deeply in love.

Peering through the slightly opened tent, Phillip caught sight of Lilia and Baul making out inside the tent. Baul, a man with broad shoulders and a confident stride, was sprawled on the layers of the makeshift bed as Lilia continued to thrust his elongated fingers inside Baul’s tight ass. His used-to-be crisp uniform was now smeared with their bodily fluids.

Phillip discreetly unzipped his pants to release his aching member as the couple proceeded to make love to one another. He started to stroke himself in time with the couple's synced thrust.

Back to the couple, as Baul pants from his climax, leaving them completely naked in the brisk night air.

“Lilia, please! I can’t take it anymore!” Baul cried as he felt Lilia crawl on top of him.

“Are you that excited for me to fuck you stupid?” Lilia degradingly asked as he lubricated his cock before aligning himself with Baul’s hole.

“Yes! Lilia, hurry! Put it in! I miss having your cock inside me!” Baul desperately cried as Lilia slowly bottomed out.

“You are such a slut, Baul, my very own handsome slut, so hungry for your master’s cock, huh?”, Lilia caressed Baul’s soft midnight green locks as he continued thrusting inside Baul’s tight hole.

“Look at how much your ass clenches every time I call you a slut” Lilia commented as he watched his cock disappear into the hole.

“Do you like it that much, slut?” Lilia asked as he hugged Baul closer, allowing him to reach deeper inside.

“Aaaa! Aaaah! Aaaaaah! Ughhh! Y-y-yes! I love it, Lilia”, Baul breathed out as he tried catching his breath.

“Call me your master!” Lilia angrily said as he grabbed Baul’s hair, pulling him closer, eager to correct his slut. Lilia lifted his right arm up; his left arm kept Baul’s in place before bringing it down, leaving a red handprint on Baul’s ass.

“M-master! Master! Master!” Baul cried while Lilia continued slapping his ass as he started picking up his pace.

“Ooooh! Master! Please! Fuck me harder! Fuck your slut harder! Oh master!” As the muscular man said those words, Lilia’s grip on his own sanity snapped. His eyes turned into slits, as if a switch had been flipped on, and he began harshly pounding his large cock inside Baul’s ass, earning him an even louder moan and cry.

“Don’t be shy, scream my name, slut! Tell everyone how good I make you feel right now as I fuck you deep and hard”, Lilia demanded as he continued manhandling Baul. He continued pulling Baul’s hair, making him clench his ass tighter due to the pleasurable pain that he felt.

“Master Lilia! Ugh- Master Lilia! Oooh- it feels so good! I love having your large cock inside my tight asshole!” Baul screamed as he felt himself nearing his orgasm.

“Master, I am cumming!” Baul cried as he started seeing stars, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Let’s cum together, slut” Lilia exasperatedly said as he felt himself close to cumming. And seconds later, they both released their long-awaited orgasm as they both panted.

“I love you Baul, my own slut”, Lilia lovingly said as he pecked Baul’s soft lips.

“I love you too master…Master Lilia”, Baul affectionately replied, as he once again kissed Lilia, engulfing him in a warm embrace.

As the echoes of their mutual desire faded and reality resurfaced in their subconscious minds, General Lilia and Baul knew the risks they had taken. They were aware of the repercussions if their secret came to light. But in that fleeting moment of intimacy, they had tasted the forbidden fruit, and now they had to grapple with the fragile equilibrium between honour and desire, an emotional conflict that could alter the trajectory of their lives for the rest of eternity.

Meanwhile, as the young fae soldier Phillip released his orgasm, he observed their intimate exchange, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of undeniable pleasure and longing. Their love was palpable, like an electric current in the air, and he couldn't tear his gaze away. He was captivated by the way they looked at each other, the depth of emotion that emanated from every sensual touch and gesture. Phillip slowly emerged from his hiding spot, his heart still fluttering with a newfound appreciation for the beauty of love and a ragged-breath as he was still recovering from his release. He took one last look at the spot where their intimacy had unfolded and he walked away, a smile graced his lips.

07.02.2023

[fuzzkaizer]

scientificguitarist - Don't Tell Ray - PT2399-Based Oil Can Delay

DIY oilcan delay kit

"When it comes to delay, we are all aware of the tape, analog, digital, and even magnetic drum style delays like the Echorec. However, there is one design that has been almost lost to time, and that is the oil can delay. Invented by the founder of Tel-Ray, the oil can delay operates by using a spinning magnetic disk with carbonized rubber read and write heads. The disk spins in a can of special oil that helps to keep the rubber heads lubricated and to help prevent the leakage of the magnetically stored data.

In the guitar pedal world, there has been a small resurgence of interest in the oil can delay due to its unique, murky sound. Old Blood Noise Endeavors and Catalinbread both have digital emulations of them, but as far as I could tell, no DIY designs existed. I decided to see what I could do with the ubiquitous PT2399. Over the course of a few months, I spent hours reading and watching everything I could find on them, detailing things like delay time ranges, RPM, methods of degradation, etc. so that I could take them into account as best I could. While I don't claim this circuit to be an exact emulation, it does a great job of getting some of that super old school vibe in a DIY-able circuit. And because it's supposed to mimic a Tel-Ray, I have decided to call it Don't Tell Ray."

cred: scientificguitarist.wixsite.com