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ihavemanyhusbands · 5 months ago

Text

Bloodhound

Also on AO3

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Summary: Before meeting the ghoul, you worked as a courier. After striking a mutually beneficial deal with him, you become a bounty hunter, but it’s clear that your dynamic is much more complicated than that.

WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, pet play (implied), porn with little plot, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of violence, both praise and degradation, light dehumanization, the ghoul calls you ‘mutt’, unprotected p in v (DO NOT), radiated creampie (dw they use radaway after the fic is over lmao), oral (m receiving), aaaand thats all i can think of but lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: Shoutout to @finniestoncrane who posted an amazing fic w/ the same kink that made me feel brave enough to post this dirty lil fic i could not get out of my head these past weeks :D

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A loud, high pitched whistle made you pause mid-sentence. You recognized it as a sign that time was almost up, and you better get some answers before he lost his patience altogether.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment before looking back at the small shop’s vendor.

“You said you heard he was going north?” You asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, heard him mention something about one of those mini-marts. You know the kind. There’s two on the way to Shady Sands that might be worth checking.”

You swallowed hard, but hid your discomfort. “And he was gone yesterday morning? Alone?”

“Yeah, as far as I know he arrived alone, too.”

“You weren’t curious enough to ask?”

“Not the kind to ask raiders more questions than I need to.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. He had no reason to be helping raiders, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have other reasons to lie.

He cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. He��d been eyeing the clunky, collar-like tracking device around your neck, unsure of what it meant or who exactly was tracking you. Clearly, he didn’t intend to find out.

“Alright, I’ve told you enough. You better get out of here before anyone else starts asking questions.”

You nodded once, knowing better than to push your luck. You took three caps out of a hidden pouch on your belt and tossed them at him.

“Thanks,” you said, turning on your heel and making your way back out of the narrow alleyway.

The ghoul was leaning against the wall just out of view, the brim of his hat pulled low. You caught the edge of his grin as you approached, and he pushed off the wall to fall into step next to you.

“Well?” He asked, keeping his voice low and casual.

You relayed the information you’d acquired about the target — a bounty he’d picked up a few days earlier, at another settlement. A raider had wreaked havoc there and killed two in the process, so the families were looking for some justice.

Easy enough to take care of, the ghoul had figured, and all for a decent price. So he’d immediately put you on his trail, as he always did. Much easier for smoothies to be asking questions and actually get some answers — Not everyone tolerated his kind.

You had a few opinions on what to do next, but you kept them to yourself, knowing he wouldn’t want them unless he’d specifically asked. He hummed, the gears in his mind already turning.

You peered at him sideways, wondering what his strategy would be. He didn’t often let you in on them unless it was necessary, but based on what you’d experienced so far, you at least trusted his cleverness.

“Good girl, that’s real useful,” he said finally, seemingly satisfied with what he was coming up with.

He flicked your chin up with his knuckle in what could almost be called affection, but not quite. You carefully hid the secret pleasure you felt at his praise, averting your gaze. Somehow, even at his meanest, he always managed to make it sound so good — at least in the same way a bruise felt good.

Formerly, in your life as a courier, you’d been severely underestimated many times. Traveling alone, especially, had its disadvantages, but it wasn’t brute strength that had so far kept you alive. You were cunning too, in your own way.

Always keenly observant of your surroundings, picking up clues that most would miss. You were generally pretty reserved anyway, preferring to stay quiet and listen. It was easy for you to blend in with your surroundings, seemingly harmless, and people often let their guard down around you. Big mistake on their part.

The ghoul had taken notice of you, though. It had been months ago, at some repurposed saloon further up north, where there was a lot of foot traffic. It was really easy to get jobs there, or exchange information, so you often passed through. As it happened, so did he, and he’d kept an eye out after you initially caught his attention.

Once he’d learned just how useful you’d actually be to him, well… he just couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. He had a certain way with words, exuding charm, knowing very well how to get what he wanted. Despite most people’s apprehension of ghouls, you didn’t really mind them as long as they weren’t feral and trying to bite your face off.

Clearly, he wasn’t that type. So, you’d made an agreement of sorts with him, splitting the profits sixty-forty for every bounty fulfilled. Easy money, you figured, and some company to boot. More safety in numbers, after all, especially with someone as skilled as him.

But from the get go, he always made it abundantly clear that he was the one calling the shots. There had been no room for argument on that, though strangely enough, you had felt a certain sense of freedom by submitting to it.

The tracking device he’d clasped around your neck soon after was just a little extra precaution, he had said. You had relatively free rein, but still he didn’t let you stray too far. And if you did, then his lasso would work as a makeshift leash to drag you back.

Later on, when you’d developed a system of communication without words – especially for greater distances – you realized it’d felt more like training, in a way. Bending you to his will, sometimes with more charm, others with what he called discipline. And soon enough, after nights of growing closeness and a simmering tension, rewards also came into play.

In the end, it all worked out, and before you knew it, the two of you were running like a well oiled machine. The hunter and his bloodhound.

You started the trek north, taking advantage of the daylight. You kept your eyes peeled for any distinct tracks or other clues. When you saw an old, rundown shack in the near distance, you glanced back at him and then trotted off as soon as he nodded.

Once you’d cleared it, you returned to where he was and continued on your way. Three more times, you checked abandoned buildings, but there was nothing of note in any of them.

The first mini-mart you arrived at turned out to be more useful. The ghoul helped you interrogate a couple of raiders you’d found holing up there. They weren’t very forthcoming at first, but you left the jostling to him, given that it was his specialty.

Soon enough, he managed to knock a couple of answers out of them, and then you were on your way again. You settled in an abandoned, half-collapsed house for the evening, a fire burning before the sun even finished setting.

He sat on the other side of it, silently sharpening his machete, lost in thought. You looked off into the middle distance, unbothered by the quiet. It was a welcome reprieve after a long day, when all you wanted to do was unwind.

But that wasn’t to say it was always easy, even if you were on the brink of exhaustion. Sometimes you just needed a little extra help to get you there.

The ghoul noticed the tense set of your shoulders and your restless shifting. He heard the soft sighs you weren’t even aware you were letting out, short and almost impatient. But what could you possibly be waiting for?

His eyes lingered pensively on the tracking device, like a mark of his ownership, before trailing lower, towards your chest. He licked his lips, a few ideas coming to mind.

“Say… how would you like a little treat for doin’ such a good job today?” He drawled, a roguish grin on his face as one of his hands came to rest heavily on his belt buckle.

Your attention was drawn there, but you quickly looked back up at his face. Instead of giving in to the impulse to nod eagerly, you bit your lip and decided to test the waters just a little bit.

“A treat, hmm?” you said, slightly tilting your head to one side, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

He nodded, adjusting his position lazily, hips bucking. “Oh yes, I’m feelin’ quite generous today, and you’ve earned it.”

This time you couldn’t hide the effect his words had on you, and he chuckled. Truth be told, you’d had this in mind all day, a craving that would not go away until you had him. It was why you’d gone the extra mile, knowing it wouldn’t escape his notice. He’d gotten real good at reading your moods, after all.

“Come sit pretty for me over here, why don’t’cha?” He said and tapped his foot on the ground, spurs jingling softly.

You made your way over to him and knelt at his feet. He bent forward, looming over you, and grasped your chin with a gloved hand.

“Well, ain’t you just the most obedient little thing? I’ve got you well trained, don’t I?” he said, his eyes roaming over your face. “Go on now, get your treat.”

He let go of your face and leaned back, adjusting his hips to bring them closer to you. Your fingers shook only slightly as you deftly undid his belt, then bent your head to undo the zipper with your teeth. There was a low sound of approval in his throat as you tugged his pants down, along with his underwear.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his hardening cock, the head of it lazily resting against his lower abdomen. You were about to curl your fingers around the shaft, but he shook his head.

“No hands,” he said, clicking his tongue. “You don’t need to use your hands anymore.”

You nodded, sticking out your tongue as your head dipped once more. You licked a long, languid stripe up the length of it, making it twitch in response. He sighed a rough good girl as his legs widened to adjust his position, a gloved hand resting on your head.

Your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing it with little flicks of your tongue. He grunted, his hips jutting upwards. Your mouth was warm and wet and inviting as his cock slid inside it with ease. His head tipped back in ecstasy for a moment before he looked back down to watch you take it deeper into your throat.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “I must’ve been real lucky to find such a good lil cocksucker like you.”

You moaned around him, shifting your knees as you felt yourself growing wetter. Your head bobbed up and down at an almost hypnotic pace, hands straining at your sides to keep yourself from using them.

When you reached the base, his cock fully sheathed in your throat, he kept your head down for a moment. You fought the urge to gag, breathing slowly through your nose.

Then he let you come up for air, the lower half of your face a slobbery mess as you panted. Your eyes were glazed over with desire as you looked up at him, and his cock twitched.

“Such a pretty mutt, aren’t’cha? I bet you’re all soaked and ready for me,” he rasped, holding your gaze as your tongue lavished his balls with some attention.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, feeling himself start to near the edge. But he didn’t want to get there quite yet, and he didn’t want it to be in your mouth this time.

Still, he allowed himself a moment longer, his hand pushing your head to press your face against his cock, hips rocking slightly. Your tongue was still out, trying to catch whatever skin it could, and he let out a deep groan.

“Alright, don’t get too excited now. Turn around and let me take a look.”

You did as told, hastily pulling your pants and underwear down to your knees and presenting yourself for him. You watched him tug his gloves off over your shoulder, appraising you with hungry eyes, and then he knelt behind you.

“My, oh my…” he said as some of your arousal dripped onto the ground. “Just as I thought… Let’s see if she’s ready for me.”

You felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, slowly pushing inside. Eagerly, you pushed your hips back to take more of him, but he stopped you by grabbing your hips.

“Easy, easy,” he chuckled. “You want me to fuck you that bad, huh?”

You nodded, whimpering a little as he thrusted shallowly, stretching you further to accommodate him.

“Please,” you breathed, your voice broken by desperation, and he pushed your head to the ground.

“It’s cute when you whine like a bitch in heat,” he cooed, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. “Now stay there and take it like the good girl I know y’are.”

Once he was able to fully slide in and out of you with little pushback, his thrusts gradually got faster. You moaned with each rough snap of his hips, deliriously chanting fuck, fuck, fuck under your breath.

He felt impossibly deep at that angle, practically driving you into the ground. One of his hands cracked down on your ass, making you flinch from surprise, your cunt squeezing him hard.

He growled at that, fucking you harder while tugging your hips backwards to meet his thrusts. He was repeatedly hitting a sensitive spot that had your vision going white, eclipsing everything else.

“God damn, this pussy’s so good to me,” he groaned, smacking your ass once more. “You enjoyin’ your treat? Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, legs kicking slightly at the intensity, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “I-I’m gonna… Can I cum? Please?”

He was pleased that you’d still thought to ask, but he was too keen on pleasing you at that moment to deny you. “Go on, I’ve got you. Come all over my cock.”

The orgasm rocked throughout your body, every one of your muscles taut as you unraveled. His name spilling from your lips as a whimper, something to cling onto. The way your cunt greedily, and oh so sweetly, squeezed his cock then had him right behind you.

A rough, feral sound escaped him as his hips snapped against you one last time, spilling hotly inside of you. Your walls continued to flutter in the aftermath, milking out his own pleasure.

After, he pulled out to get a look at the mess he’d made of you. Hummed with self satisfaction as he saw his spend trickling out of you, like another mark of his ownership.

Your head swam as if you were drunk, but still you smiled at him over your shoulder beatifically. Mischief danced in your eyes, but he’d already known it had been your plan to end up there all along.

“Always so eager to please.” He returned the grin slyly. “Maybe I ought to give you treats more often, if you keep it up.”

Perhaps it hadn’t been his intention, but you took those words as a challenge all the same.

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#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #fallout smut #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #minors dni

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

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The paradox of choice screens

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

It's official: the DOJ has won its case, and Google is a convicted monopolist. Over the next six months, we're gonna move into the "remedy" phase, where we figure out what the court is going to order Google to do to address its illegal monopoly power:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

That's just the beginning, of course. Even if the court orders some big, muscular remedies, we can expect Google to appeal (they've already said they would) and that could drag out the case for years. But that can be a feature, not a bug: a years-long appeal will see Google on its very best behavior, with massive, attendant culture changes inside the company. A Google that's fighting for its life in the appeals court isn't going to be the kind of company that promotes a guy whose strategy for increasing revenue is to make Google Search deliberately worse, so that you will have to do more searches (and see more ads) to get the info you're seeking:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

It's hard to overstate how much good stuff can emerge from a company that's mired itself in antitrust hell with extended appeals. In 1982, IBM wriggled off the antitrust hook after a 12-year fight that completely transformed the company's approach to business. After more than a decade of being micromanaged by lawyers who wanted to be sure that the company didn't screw up its appeal and anger antitrust enforcers, IBM's executives were totally transformed. When the company made its first PC, it decided to use commodity components (meaning anyone could build a similar PC by buying the same parts), and to buy its OS from an outside vendor called Micros-Soft (meaning competing PCs could use the same OS), and it turned a blind eye to the company that cloned the PC ROM, enabling companies like Dell, Compaq and Gateway to enter the market with "PC clones" that cost less and did more than the official IBM PC:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/08/ibm-pc-compatible-how-adversarial-interoperability-saved-pcs-monopolization

The big question, of course, is whether the court will order Google to break up, say, by selling off Android, its ad-tech stack, and Chrome. That's a question I'll address on another day. For today, I want to think about how to de-monopolize browsers, the key portal to the internet. The world has two extremely dominant browsers, Safari and Chrome, and each of them are owned by an operating system vendor that pre-installs their own browser on their devices and pre-selects them as the default.

Defaults matter. That's a huge part of Judge Mehta's finding in the Google case, where the court saw evidence from Google's own internal research suggesting that people rarely change defaults, meaning that whatever the gadget does out of the box it will likely do forever. This puts a lie to Google's longstanding defense of its monopoly power: "choice is just a click away." Sure, it's just a click away – a click, you're pretty sure no one is ever going to make.

This means that any remedy to Google's browser dominance is going to involve a lot of wrangling about defaults. That's not a new wrangle, either. For many years, regulators and tech companies have tinkered with "choice screens" that were nominally designed to encourage users to try out different browsers and brake the inertia of the big two browsers that came bundled with OSes.

These choice screens have a mixed record. Google's 2019 Android setup choice screen for the European Mobile Application Distribution Agreement somehow managed to result in the vast majority of users sticking with Chrome. Microsoft had a similar experience in 2010 with BrowserChoice.eu, its response to the EU's 2000s-era antitrust action:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BrowserChoice.eu

Does this mean that choice screens don't work? Maybe. The idea of choice screens comes to us from the "choice architecture" world of "nudging," a technocratic pseudoscience that grew to prominence by offering the promise that regulators could make big changes without having to do any real regulating:

https://verfassungsblog.de/nudging-after-the-replication-crisis/

Nudge research is mired in the "replication crisis" (where foundational research findings turn out to be nonreplicable, due to bad research methodology, sloppy analysis, etc) and nudge researchers keep getting caught committing academic fraud:

https://www.ft.com/content/846cc7a5-12ee-4a44-830e-11ad00f224f9

When the first nudgers were caught committing fraud, more than a decade ago, they were assumed to be outliers in an otherwise honest and exciting field:

https://www.npr.org/2016/10/01/496093672/power-poses-co-author-i-do-not-believe-the-effects-are-real

Today, it's hard to find much to salvage from the field. To the extent the field is taken seriously today, it's often due to its critics repeating the claims of its boosters, a process Lee Vinsel calls "criti-hype":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

For example, the term "dark patterns" lumps together really sneaky tactics with blunt acts of fraud. When you click an "opt out of cookies" button and get a screen that says "Success!" but which has a tiny little "confirm" button on it that you have to click to actually opt out, that's not a "dark pattern," it's just a scam:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/27/beware-of-the-leopard/#relentless

By ascribing widespread negative effects to subtle psychological manipulation ("dark patterns") rather than obvious and blatant fraud, we inadvertently elevate "nudging" to a real science, rather than a cult led by scammy fake scientists.

All this raises some empirical questions about choice screens: do they work (in the sense of getting people to break away from defaults), and if so, what's the best way to make them work?

This is an area with a pretty good literature, as it turns out, thanks in part due to some natural experiments, like when Russia forced Google to offer choice screens for Android in 2017, but didn't let Google design that screen. The Russian policy produced a significant switch away from Google's own apps to Russian versions, primarily made by Yandex:

https://cepr.org/publications/dp17779

In 2023, Mozilla Research published a detailed study in which 12,000 people from Germany, Spain and Poland set up simulated mobile and desktop devices with different kinds of choice screens, a project spurred on by the EU's Digital Markets Act, which is going to mandate choice screens starting this year:

https://research.mozilla.org/browser-competition/choicescreen/

I'm spending this week reviewing choice screen literature, and I've just read the Mozilla paper, which I found very interesting, albeit limited. The biggest limitation is that the researchers are getting users to simulate setting up a new device and then asking them how satisfied they are with the experience. That's certainly a question worth researching, but a far more important question is "How do users feel about the setup choices they made later, after living with them on the devices they use every day?" Unfortunately, that's a much more expensive and difficult question to answer, and beyond the scope of this paper.

With that limitation in mind, I'm going to break down the paper's findings here and draw some conclusions about what we should be looking for in any kind of choice screen remedy that comes out of the DOJ antitrust victory over Google.

The first thing note is that people report liking choice screens. When users get to choose their browsers, they expect to be happy with that choice; by contrast, users are skeptical that they'll like the default browser the vendor chose for them. Users don't consider choice screens to be burdensome, and adding a choice screen doesn't appreciably increase setup time.

There are some nuances to this. Users like choice screens during device setup but they don't like choice screens that pop up the first time they use a browser. That makes total sense: "choosing a browser" is colorably part of the "setting up your gadget" task. By contrast, the first time you open a browser on a new device, it's probably to get something else done (e.g. look up how to install a piece of software you used on your old device) and being interrupted with a choice screen at that moment is an unwelcome interruption. This is the psychology behind those obnoxious cookie-consent pop-ups that website bombard you with when you first visit them: you've clicked to that website because you need something it has, and being stuck with a privacy opt-out screen at that moment is predictably frustrating (which is why companies do it, and also why the DMA is going to punish companies that do).

The researchers experimented with different kinds of choice screens, varying the number of browsers on offer and the amount of information given on each. Again, users report that they prefer more choices and more information, and indeed, more choice and more info is correlated with choosing indie, non-default browsers, but this effect size is small (<10%), and no matter what kind of choice screen users get, most of them come away from the experience without absorbing any knowledge about indie browsers.

The order in which browsers are presented has a much larger effect than how many browsers or how much detail is present. People say they want lots of choices, but they usually choose one of the first four options. That said, users who get choice screens say it changes which browser they'd choose as a default.

Some of these contradictions appear to stem from users' fuzziness on what "default browser" means. For an OS vendor, "default browser" is the browser that pops up when you click a link in an email or social media. For most users, "default browser" means "the browser pinned to my home screen."

Where does all this leave us? I think it cashes out to this: choice screens will probably make a appreciable, but not massive, difference in browser dominance. They're cheap to implement, have no major downsides, and are easy to monitor. Choice screens might be needed to address Chrome's dominance even if the court orders Google to break off Chrome and stand it up as a separate business (we don't want any browser monopolies, even if they're not owned by a search monopolist!). So yeah, we should probably make a lot of noise to the effect that the court should order a choice screen, as part of a remedy.

That choice screen should be presented during device setup, with the choices presented in random order – with this caveat: Chrome should never appear in the top four choices.

All of that would help address the browser duopoly, even if it doesn't solve it. I would love to see more market-share for Firefox, which is the browser I've used every day for more than a decade, on my laptop and my phone. Of course, Mozilla has a role to play here. The company says it's going to refocus on browser quality, at the expense of the various side-hustles it's tried, which have ranged from uninteresting to catastrophically flawed:

https://www.fastcompany.com/91167564/mozilla-wants-you-to-love-firefox-again

For example, there was the tool to automatically remove your information from scummy data brokers, that they outsourced to a scummy data-broker:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/22/24109116/mozilla-ends-onerep-data-removal-partnership

And there's the "Privacy Preserving Attribution" tracking system that helps advertisers target you with surveillance advertising (in a way that's less invasive than existing techniques). Mozilla rolled this into Firefox on an opt out basis, and made opting out absurdly complicated, suggesting that it knew that it was imposing something on its users that they wouldn't freely choose:

https://blog.privacyguides.org/2024/07/14/mozilla-disappoints-us-yet-again-2/

They've been committing these kinds of unforced errors for more than a decade, seeking some kind of balance between monopolistic web companies and its users' desire to have a browser that protects them from invasive and unfair practices:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2014/may/14/firefox-closed-source-drm-video-browser-cory-doctorow

These compromises represent the fallacy that Mozilla's future depends on keeping bullying entertainment companies and Big Tech happy, so it can go on serving its users. At the same time, these compromises have alienated Mozilla's core users, the technical people who were its fiercest evangelists. Those core users are the authority on technical questions for the normies in their life, and they know exactly how cursed it is for Moz to be making these awful compromises.

Moz has hemorrhaged users over the past decade, meaning they have even less leverage over the corporations demanding that they make more compromises. This sets up a doom loop: make a bad compromise, lose users, become more vulnerable to demands for even worse compromises. "This capitulation puts us in a great position to make a stand in some hypothetical future where we don't instantly capitulate again" is a pretty unconvincing proposition.

After the past decade's heartbreaks, seeing Moz under new leadership makes me cautiously hopeful. Like I say, I am dependent on Firefox and want an independent, principled browser vendor that sees their role as producing a "user agent" that is faithful to its users' interests above all else:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

Of course, Moz depends on Google's payment for default search placement for 90% of its revenue. If Google can't pay for this in the future, the org is going to have to find another source of revenue. Perhaps that will be the EU, or foundations, or users. In any of these cases, the org will find it much easier to raise funds if it is standing up for its users – not compromising on their interests.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/12/defaults-matter/#make-up-your-mind-already

Image: ICMA Photos (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/icma/3635981474/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

#pluralistic #choice screens #dma #eu #scholarship #ux #behavioral economics #mozilla #remedies #browsers #mobile #defaults matter #google #doj v google

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gabessquishytum · 10 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/athymelyreply/741449177837584384/reggyjester-skeletalroses-so-this-is-a?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/phoebo-fugiente/741458451982630912?source=share

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So between these two posts taking me out at the knees for different reasons, I now have Corset Thoughts:

Dream is corsetiere and he vends at his local Renaissance Faire. His corsets are all handmade, high quality and absolutely beautiful. He's very popular and his stall is always full of customers, especially because he accommodates so many different body types.

Hob is at the Renaissance Faire with his girlfriend, and it is her goal to get one of Dream's corsets. She's saved up her money, brought her measurements, etc. Hob decides to indulge her and try on one of the men's corsets Dream has available, and he has a million realizations at once about his body and how good it can look in a well fitting corset.

Ultimately, Hob doesn't buy his own corset even though his girlfriend agrees he looks amazing and absolutely deserves to have a nice quality corset of his own. But Hob is saving up money to propose, and he just doesn't have the extra cash to spend it on an impulse. His girlfriend leaves happily with her purchase though and swears they'll be back next year to get her a second one AND Hob's first corset.

One year later, Hob is back but he's alone this time. Turns out they wanted different things in life so they broke up and it's fine. They're still friendly. But Hob hasn't stopped thinking about that corset. Or the gorgeous coset maker at the Faire. And now that he no longer has a girlfriend to buy an engagement ring for, he now has a lot of extra cash to buy himself a corset... or three.

Hi this is so good!!!! I’m super obsessed with corsets in general and I am constantly in awe of corsetieres, their craftsmanship, and their dedication to making things that are size inclusive. The fact that we’re all acknowledging now that men in corsets are fucking incredible is a very good thing indeed.

I’m just imagining Dream’s face lighting up because he remembers Hob from the previous year and was hoping he’d come back. If he’s honest with himself he’s VERY attracted to Hob but he disguises his interest by asking if he can take a few pictures while Hob tries on the various available styles. He’s trying to get as many pictures as possible for his website so he can show that corsets are perfect for everyone! And Hob looks so good, he clearly belongs front and centre in Dream’s new marketing strategy…

So Hob hands over his measurements, and Dream brings out a selection of different designs for him to try. Most are the traditional laced up variety, but he’s also been experimenting with Velcro as some people can’t manage the laces so easy. Hob gushes on about how talented and thoughtful Dream is, and he seems to be completely in his element as he tries each one on and poses for photos. Dream blushes and stammers and asks if Hob’s girlfriend liked her corset? Which leads to Hob explaining about the breakup.

Dream feels a huge sense of relief, and doesn’t feel quite so terrible about the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off Hob’s fantastic tits. The way the corset compresses the fabric of his shirt and makes absolutely sure that his chest hair is visible is driving Dream wild. His hands are shaking so much, he’s not even sure if the pictures he’s taking will be in focus.

Hob finally decides which corsets he’ll be taking home, and he can’t resist kissing the back of Dream’s hand in thanks. And when he cautiously asks if Dream would care to meet him at the mead tent when he’s due for a break, Dream nearly abandons his stall altogether just at the mere offer. Luckily, one of the other vendors offers to watch his stall for a bit, so Hob is able to spirit Dream away just for a little while. Yes, they do spend the whole time making out in a quiet corner, and yes, Dream does finally cop a feel of the Hoboobies.

Hob is about to have sooooo many pretty outfits designed just for him, the lucky bastard. In all fairness, he was absolutely made to wear corsets. Dream definitely isn’t letting him go!

#seiya-starsniper #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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sylaurin · 4 months ago

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Iskra eir Baelsar: lore dump

Alright, since people are getting interested in her, lets start with some back story. (apologies as this gets a bit long)

@primamchorus @zylphiacrowley @dragonsongmakhali @kanehon since you all expressed interest.

Iskra was a simple farm girl from a remote area between Dalmasca and the Skatay range. Living a fairly pleasant life learning to live off the land and was a natural hunter, learning some things from the Viera who would travel down from the mountains.

When the Garlean Empire started their second attempt to get to Nagxia and pushing into Dalmasca, a small unit of Garleans that had gotten lost came across the farm Iskra's family lived on. They had no idea who these soldiers were as news of the conflict starting with Dalmasca hadn't reached very far yet, so they provided food and shelter for these lost people until their main host could recover them.

Dalmascan scouts witness the farmers giving shelter to their enemy and marked them as collaborators. While Iskra was out on a hunt, the scouting party attacked and razed the farmstead. Seeing the smoke from the burning fields, Iskra rushed home just in time to see her parents cut down trying to defend their home. Something insider her broke. Rather than be consumed by her emotions they were instead shut off. With cold efficiency, she hunted and slaughtered every Dalmsacan that attacked her home. Only then did she allow herself to grieve.

Drawn by the fires, a Garlean patrol craft lands and investigates finding the young woman sitting on what remained of the stoop of her house with a pile of Dalmascan corpses piled up nearby. While telling them of the events that transpired she learns of the building war with Dalmasca. Iskra asks to join them to enact vengeance on the nation that killed her family.

While serving as a conscript, Iskra quickly found her calling when placed on an intelligence mission. The results of which caught the eye of a visiting legatus, Gaius van Baelsar, who has Iskra transferred to the XIV legion. With even more successful missions under he belt, Gaius devises a strategy not only get Iskra a shot at the Frumentarium Academy but a push to the head of the line. Gaius formally adopts Iskra as his daughter. With fully citizenship and the personal recommendation of a renown legatus, Iskra is accepted and heads to the academy in Garlemald.

Academy life is difficult as she finds her self often held to different standards than her pure-blood Garlean counterparts as well as political meddling from those that think she doesn't belong. Despite this she still managed to graduate at the head of her class, however she gets assigned as a data analyst operating from the consulate in Kugane. Politics.

While in Kugane, the consulate found itself with a leek. Iskra managed to track the leak to a food stall vendor in the nearby markets. This vendor was actually a Doman Shinobi attempting to get the Garleans removed from Hingashi. She befriended the man, never letting slip she was on to him and once he let his guard down she slit his throat. The brass, being thoroughly impressed, finally make her a field operative (which I've talked a little about before in [this] post). Finding herself back in Dalmasca as part of a new counter insurgency unit weeding out the more dug in resistance fighters. It's here that she first meets a Turali man named Thiago who is attached to another unit. They only cross paths a couple times but she finds him obnoxious.

Before her tour is complete, she gets pulled from the field by Gaius and is placed on a new long term deep cover assignment to infiltrate Ala Mhigo and prepare it for invasion...

If you managed to get through all this, thank you for reading my cobbled together backstory of Kabniel's mother.

#ffxiv #oc: Iskra eir Baelsar #text post #this went pretty long #I'll cover more of what goes on in Ala Mhigo another time

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thedailyjcs · 8 months ago

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Thrifted Treasures: LJ's Journey in Sustainable Fashion Entrepreneurship

by Jerraine Sy and Jose Carlos Morata

Leila Jazel Madelar, who goes by the name LJ, is a student at National University Fairview pursuing BS Tourism. LJ is the proud owner of Madie's Wardrobe, where she sells curated thrifted clothes through her Facebook page and ships them out via Shopee Checkout. LJ's commitment to sustainability and supporting local businesses is an appropriate match for our theme, which emphasizes the advantages that thrifted clothing has for the economy and the environment.

In the vibrant world of ukay-ukay, LJ encountered unpredictable situations as an entrepreneur. This is not new to the business world, especially in the ukay-ukay culture. Although she handpicked these items rather than buying in bulk, sometimes they do not appeal to people's tastes or align with current trends. The importance of adaptability in overcoming obstacles is truly essential, as mismanaging this aspect could result in profit loss.

She discusses the diverse attitudes of customers and the challenges in ensuring they follow instructions. Despite that, she employs patience and takes the time to educate customers on the checkout process, maintaining a high level of customer satisfaction. True success lies in maximizing profitability. When she receives the profit, it marks the culmination of her efforts as a dedicated businesswoman.

LJ sets herself apart by focusing on offering affordable sets, steering away from the trend of overpricing items observed in similar shops. This strategy has contributed to the success of Madie's Wardrobe. She handpicks each item from various thrift stores, personally fitting them and curating a collection through meticulous examination. This attention to detail ensures a curated and quality inventory. She observes the thrift clothes market trends and notes the enduring popularity of items like crop tops and pants. She also stays attuned to customer preferences, adapting her inventory to meet the ongoing demands of the market.

The virtue of patience is the most significant lesson that she teaches. Managing several projects at once is part of being a lone owner, and even with diligent attention to detail, problems can still occur. Maintaining a high standard of customer satisfaction requires flexibility and responsiveness to any issues that might arise. LJ advises aspiring thrift clothes sellers to embrace hard work and be prepared to take risks. She emphasizes the importance of having a backup plan to avoid losses and ensure success. Aspiring thrift store vendors should accept hard labor and be willing to take calculated chances, according to Leila. She strongly expresses that to prevent losses and guarantee success, a backup plan is essential. The importance of preparedness for potential challenges cannot be overstated; it forms the backbone of a resilient business strategy. It's important to have a backup plan within a backup plan, as this provides greater control in uncertain situations.

To sum up, LJ's experience selling used clothing is proof of her tenacity, enthusiasm, and steadfast dedication to her clients' needs. Madie's Wardrobe is a source of inspiration for aspiring businesses that want to enter the realm of online thrifted clothes sales in addition to providing reasonably priced apparel.

#blog #thrifstorefinds #thrifting #photography #graphic design

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wenevergotusedtoegypt · 6 months ago

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Life update

Long story short(er)...a bit over a year ago my then-boss decided to bring a process that had been previously delegated to an external vendor internal, and I would be in charge of it. We knew that it would be a big challenge, but felt that it was possible. I didn't get a title change, but in effect this was a MASSIVE promotion, which I later convinced my subsequent boss to give me a significant raise for.

Then, my boss left the organization just as this new process was ramping up, and was replaced by someone who was honestly out of his depth in the position, for lack of any better option at the time. I repeatedly asked for assistance with decision-making, resources, and professional development regarding this process, but received very little assistance. Nevertheless, my newly-hired supervisee and I limped along the best we could with the knowledge and resources that we had. We were getting projects out the door, but we didn't have what we needed to assess how well we were doing and how to do it better.

A few months ago, my boss was working with some consultants on some tangentially-related things, and they were shocked to find out the extent of what I, as just one person, was in charge of. They suggested bringing someone else on board, and in fact, they knew just the person, who was currently looking for a new job. She became my boss about 2 months ago. She has extensive experience in this area and it's become clear just how in over our heads we were when we decided to bring the process in house with exactly 0 people with prior experience working on it. I kept asking both my previous boss and her what exactly my responsibilities vs. hers were, and never got a satisfactory answer. My previous boss kept telling me that I "could learn a lot from her" (completely true, but nevertheless I still needed to know what my job was so that I could learn from her while doing it) and then later that I should "be proactive" and not just wait around for someone to tell me what my job was (which, I'm pretty sure that repeatedly trying to have a conversation about it is, in fact, proactive? but ok). My current boss kept saying that she didn't know either, but it would get sorted out.

Well, it did. Sort of. Last week, she began to hint, and this week she said clearly (when I brought it up), that she does not believe my role as it currently exists is what she needs at this time. She is of the opinion that 90% of writing can be done with AI nowadays, with just a little human cleanup (I wish her luck getting AI to hone in on the very specific voices of certain picky higher-ups in the organization, which I have mastered, but ok), and what she really needs is someone with 6-7 years of experience with this work to run with strategy, project management, etc.

I, uh, clearly do not have that experience, through no fault of my own. So I have been given the following options:

a) Fully commit to the new position and go through 3-6 months of extremely intensive training to try to get me up to speed. I feel like this would be setting myself up for failure, as no matter how hard I work I cannot make up for years with mere months. It would also take a level of commitment to the position that I simply don't find myself having at this point. For various reasons, I'm just not interested in working for her at this point, and I can't see myself being motivated enough to follow through the way I would need to in order to have any chance at succeeding.

b) Try to find another position internally. This would be my preferred option, as I like where I work and what we do, but it requires someone having an opening that is in some way a good fit for me. A colleague has been putting out feelers for me, but I spoke to someone in HR yesterday and he didn't really have anything for me. This is IMMENSELY frustrating given that I was literally given an award for how valuable I am to the organization just months ago, I have always gotten positive performance reviews, and yet somehow it seems there is no way to use the very talents I was told were absolutely essential extremely recently. I feel like there should be someone I can go to and be like, "Hey, remember that big award you gave me for contributing so much? I would like to continue contributing so much. It is in the organization's best interest to not just let me slip away. Let's figure out where I can contribute." But I don't know who to talk to.

c) Leave and find a job externally. I have people who are happily willing to assist with networking and reference-giving on this, but the problem is that everyone's first question is, "What are you looking for?" and I don't have a good answer. I would probably like to stay in the nonprofit world, ideally the Jewish nonprofit world, but could see myself in a for-profit position if I felt like the work was making a positive difference in the world. It would be nice (and to my employer's benefit) if the position involved writing, given it's both my passion and my strength, but it's not a must. My main thing is that I want to feel like my employer is making a positive impact in the world and I want to feel like I myself am making a clear contribution to that positive impact. I didn't do well as an office manager because I felt too disconnected from the mission, but I did fine as an administrative assistant who was working with programmatic staff at the same organization (though such a position is now too low-level). I also don't want to take a salary cut (or at least not a major one), but many positions I'm seeing at my current salary or above are things I'm not qualified for.

So anyway, that's what's been going on and why things have been a bit quiet on this blog. I am oddly calm about it all, there's just been a lot to figure out. That can partially be explained by the fact that my husband starts working part time in less than 2 weeks, and then full time IY"H after he passes the boards in late July, so seemingly the worst case scenario here is we have a brief period of living off unemployment, his part time work, and savings before we get back to where we've been for a while now (his starting salary is a bit more than my current salary, so while we had been expecting our income would double soon, we at least wouldn't be worse off than we've been). But even so, I'm surprised that I'm not more upset.

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totowlff · 2 years ago

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chapter thirty-three — take my breath

➝ is there a better birthday present than love?

➝ word count: 5,6k

➝ warnings: smut

➝ author’s notes: it took longer than it should have, but i think there's nothing more appropriate than posting the chapter about liesl's birthday on her birthday. enjoy!

FEBRUARY, 2017

Sitting in the Mercedes C-Class parked in the driveway, Elisabeth was silent, her head resting on the steering wheel. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and did her best to hold back the tears that felt inevitable.

That day had been shit.

Pre-season had been a real headache. Preparations for the launch of the W08, the car of that season, were in full swing, she hadn't had a day off. To top it all off, the hasty negotiations with Valtteri to take over for Nico, who had decided to retire suddenly, without even letting Toto or Niki know, had taken up her limited time and patience, as Williams were not feeling overly charitable with Mercedes trying to recruit one of their contracted drivers.

They only managed to confirm the Finn just over a month before pre-season testing began. It took a few hours of talking with Sir Frank Williams and his daughter, Claire, for the team to release Valtteri. Elisabeth was sure that the affection they had for Toto, from when he was still an investor in the team, played a big role in the success of the negotiation.

However, solving that problem only brought on more. With a new set of regulations or that year, less than a fifth of the car was the same as the previous year. This meant hours of reviewing accounting, vendor budgets, employee rosters, and wind tunnel hours. By the end of each day, Elisabeth felt completely drained, with only enough strength to crawl into bed and sleep.

That Saturday was no different.

Elisabeth had woken up early, gotten ready, had a cup of espresso, and gone to the factory. As much as she wanted Toto's company, she didn't want to wake him. He was working just as much as she was — probably more. Rare were the nights when he didn't spend a few more hours at his home office, or even at the factory, holding meetings with sponsors. That had been the case from the night before. He’d been up late, talking with Petronas' Malaysia-based technical directors about the new fluids being developed for that year.

She had a busy morning, occupied almost entirely with a meeting to present the logistical plan designed for the season. During the afternoon, Elisabeth spoke with the marketing team about the strategies for the W08 launch. She’d also given a factory tour to Mark McLaughlin, one of Qualcomm's directors. After saying goodbye to the American and returning to her office, Elisabeth found a plate with a small chocolate cupcake, as well as a card that read “Happy Birthday, Elisabeth”, along with a picture of her holding one of the giant silver stars that the team used in celebrations.

It was her birthday.

She’d forgotten her own birthday.

— Fuck — she muttered, lifting her head from the steering wheel. Thinking about the messages she’d gotten earlier and ignored - from her parents, Lukas, and Claire, Elisabeth felt her heart tighten inside her chest. She always spent her birthday with her family in Vienna, having dinner at an Italian restaurant, reminiscing about their time in Modena. But that year, she had been too busy to even think about celebrating one more trip around the sun.

She picked up her cell phone that was lying on top of the passenger seat next to her purse, she stared at the lock screen. It was a picture of Toto, Ben, and Rosi, smiling for the camera as they posed in front of Ben’s birthday cake. Staring into Toto’s face, Elisabeth couldn't help but feel a twinge in her chest. Despite numerous congratulatory messages, there was nothing from him. The only time they had spoken that day, on the phone, was during lunch, when he told her that he would not be going to the factory in the afternoon.

“Did he forget it too?”, she wondered, uncertain. Of all of Toto’s strengths, memory was not one of them, after all. He tended to forget simple things, like dinners and meetings. She was always the one to remind him of those things. Him forgetting her birthday would not be out of the norm, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

In fact, knowing that her birthday was just another day on Toto's calendar made her heart ache even more.

Resigned, Elisabeth took the bag that was on the seat next to her and got out of the car, walking slowly towards the entrance hall, distracted by the notification that had just arrived on her phone. Typing a quick response to a question from Alison, from the Human Resources team, she walked into the living room, pausing to download an attachment from the message.

Until she heard someone clear their throat.

Lifting her head, Elisabeth found Toto standing there, holding a bouquet of lilies and white roses, an anxious smile on her lips. Her eyes flickering between the flowers and his face, she was visibly confused.

— What is this?

He looked at the bouquet, then at her.

— They're flowers, Liesl.

— Why?

Toto blinked.

— Today is your birthday. Or… did I get the date wrong?

Elisabeth gave a shy little smile.

— No, it's today.

— Oh, good — he smiled, approaching her — So, today is your birthday. And a special day like this deserves celebration.

Toto handed the flowers to her, and she felt her eyes fill with tears as she looked at them, noticing that there was a card placed between the roses and the lilies.

— Do you want to see the card?

— Yes — she whispered.

Removing the envelope nestled in the middle of the bouquet, Toto opened it and withdrew a small note, written in his elegant handwriting.

— Read it to me — he asked.

Elisabeth cleared her throat to read.

— “You know I don't like birthdays. I believe you deserve to be celebrated everyday. But if there's ever an ideal time to show you how much I appreciate you, it's today. Happy birthday, Liesl. I love you. From... your Toto”.

His name came out as a whisper from her lips, which were trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks. Elisabeth often felt unworthy of Toto's love. She saw herself as a difficult person with a lot of complexities. Sometimes, she even felt like she was broken in some way. However, that side of her had never scared him. After all, as Toto himself said, he was also broken, in a way. Even with that negative assessment, Elisabeth had been the one to fix him. He was determined to be the one to fix her, too.

Kissing her forehead, Toto smiled.

— You like it?

— I love it, honey — she replied, wrapping her free arm in a tight hug, her face buried in his chest. Inhaling his scent, Elisabeth felt her body relax. She was home.

A few seconds later, Toto lightly squeezed her waist, as a signal for her to lift her head.

— It's not just that, Liesl.

— What do you mean?

— I prepared the bathtub for you to take a relaxing bath. I put those bath salts you like in the water, the lemongrass-scented ones. Well, that's what I think you like, since every time I get in the tub with you, your skin smells like lemongrass.

Elisabeth smiled.

— Yes, it's lemongrass. But, you know you didn't have to do all of this, right?

— I didn't have to, but I wanted to. Especially after a busy day like today. As soon as you’re done with your bath, we're going to eat the pizzas I ordered from Gino's.

Her eyes sparkled. She loved the pizza from Gino's, a small restaurant in the center of Oxford. They were the closest thing to what she ate as a kid in Modena.

— Americana and Margherita? — Elisabeth asked, feeling her stomach rumble just thinking about the slices full of cheese and spicy salami.

— Of course, as usual. Now go upstairs and relax. I'll call you when they arrive, okay?

She nodded, before receiving a peck and having the flowers removed from her hands., Elisabeth went upstairs to the second floor, going quietly to their room. As she entered the bathroom, she smelled a distinct scent of vanilla in the air. It was soft and sweet, almost cozy. When she got to the bathroom, she discovered the source of the smell — a scented candle that was lit on top of the counter. Staring at the flame for a few seconds, Elisabeth smiled.

“He thought of everything”, she thought, as she undressed and tied up her hair so it wouldn't get wet.

As soon as she sat in the bathtub, with its warm, lemongrass-scented water, Elisabeth felt her body relax. The bathroom was silent, almost as if it were enveloped in a bubble of serenity and peace. It had been a long time since the last time she had felt like this.

Elisabeth's life after joining the Mercedes operation had become complete chaos. Her time was filled with trips, races and engagements. It was a hard, inconsistent and particularly tiring routine, which not only affected her, but also her relationships with friends and family.

But it was during moments like this that she was grateful to have Toto to share the madness with. He was more than just a boyfriend or sexual partner, he was her best friend. The two of them understood, supported, and cared for each other. Each was the other's home, as Toto liked to say. She was sure of it every time she laid down in bed with him, snuggled in his arms, sleeping to the quiet beat of his heart.

With her eyes still closed, Elisabeth heard footsteps coming from the bedroom to the bathroom. She had no idea how long she had been there, but she could stay there for the rest of her life, that bathtub was so good.

— Liesl?

She opened her eyes and looked to the side to find Toto standing beside her, a smile on his lips.

— Yes?

— Is everything okay?

— Yeah, everything is great.

He crouched down beside her, leaning on the edge of the tub.

— Is your bath okay? Would you like anything?

— I'd love for you to come in with me — she whispered, a small smile on her face. Toto returned the smile, bringing a hand to her cheek and stroking the damp skin.

— I'd like that too, baby, but that would mean letting the pizza get cold downstairs, and if I know you, you wouldn't eat it cold.

— Oh, is dinner here?

— Yes, it’s downstairs, waiting for us. Are you coming?

— Of course — she replied, leaning on the edge of the tub to lift herself out of the water. As soon as Elisabeth stepped onto the rug, Toto handed her a towel to dry off, before leaving the bathroom and asking her what she wanted to wear. A few minutes later, the two of them went downstairs together, hand in hand, with her wearing one of his old T-shirts and baggy pajama pants, towards the kitchen, where the table was meticulously prepared, with the flowers Toto had given her decorating the environment.

Between laughs, sips of wine and stories of other disastrous birthday parties, the two ate a few slices of pizza apiece. However, Elisabeth couldn't help noticing that Toto looked a little uneasy, especially when the two of them were silent. “He's hiding something”, she thought, as he got up to take the dishes to the sink.

With everything organized and the two of them in the living room drinking what was left of the wine in the bottle, she stared at Toto for a few seconds.

— Are you okay, my love?

— Yes, I’m perfect. Why the question?

— You seem… Uneasy. Like you’re anxious.

He looked at her for a few seconds before smiling.

— I'm thinking about your present.

Elisabeth pressed her lips together, serious.

— My present? Toto, you know that…

— I don't need to give you anything, I know — he cut her off — But I want to, Liesl.

— Torger — she muttered seriously.

— Come with me, baby — Toto whispered, getting up from the sofa and placing his glass of wine on the coffee table. Placing her own glass next to his, Elisabeth felt his hand wrap around hers, leading her through the house.

She just didn't know what to expect from Toto, especially on an occasion when she knew it was no use telling him he didn't need to give her a gift. The team principal always made a point of spoiling her with something of exorbitant value, but that would barely tickle his bank account.

“You deserve the whole world, Liesl”, he always told her, as soon as she asserted that she didn't deserve to be spoiled like that. And Elisabeth knew that Toto would be able to deliver it into her hand if she wanted to. All she had to do was ask.

He led her up the stairs to their bedroom, holding her fingers gently. With her heart racing, she felt the anxiety rising within her. The two entered the suite in silence, hand in hand. Leading her towards the bed, he looked down at her with a smirk.

— Baby, can you sit on the bed for me?

She let go of Toto's hand and walked over to the mattress, settling down on it. However, instead of approaching her, he went to the mirrored closet doors and slid them open, entering the cubicle. In the silence of the room, Elisabeth felt her pulse roaring louder and louder in her ears, tension building in her muscles.

“What the hell is he up to?”, she wondered.

A few moments later, he emerged again with a small white bag in his hand. Slowly approaching her, Toto reached out, handing the package to her. As she looked at it more closely, she noticed that there was a letter ‘F’ printed on the surface, as well as the words ‘Fleur du Mal’. “What kind of store is that?”, Elisabeth wondered, staring at the bag in silence.

— What is it? — she asked, looking up at him.

— Open it — Toto just said.

Tearing off the seal, Elisabeth opened the bag and reached inside, pulling out a long piece of black satin, with something embroidered on it. Running her thumb over the fabric, she looked up.

— A piece of cloth?

Toto smiled.

— Not just any piece of cloth.

— No?

— It's a blindfold.

Elisabeth felt a lurch in her stomach.

— When I was looking for your gift, I happened to come across an article that I thought was interesting…

— An article?

— Yeah. About female pleasure.

She raised an eyebrow, feeling her heart beat harder in her chest.

— Female pleasure — Elisabeth repeated.

— Yes — he continued, taking the blindfold from her hands — I've read that many men don't know when a woman has an orgasm. That they don't know exactly what their partners like in bed. In general, there’s a… gap.

— But you’ve made me come before… so many times — she replied softly, trying not to blush.

A smug smile appeared on his face.

— Yes. And I know exactly when you're having an orgasm, so I don't think I'm part of that statistic. But, reading that article, I felt like… I could learn more.

She blinked.

— So I started researching more about how to improve, how to make our intimacy even more — he paused, winding the silken sash around his hand — pleasurable.

— Why? — Elisabeth asked quietly.

He smiled.

— Because your pleasure gives me pleasure, Liesl. In fact, making you come is more pleasurable to me than anything else. Watching you orgasm and knowing I'm the one who made you feel that way is… Wonderful. Hearing the sounds you make, feeling your muscles tense under my hands, the taste of your come… That turns me on more than anything. And I wanted to make it even better for you. And I found that one way to do that is by using… different things.

— You mean… toys? — she asked directly.

— Not necessarily — Toto replied, removing the cloth that had wrapped around his hand — There are many possibilities we can explore aside from that. Although, the idea of watching you squirm in pleasure while I use one on you seems tempting.

Heat rose in Elisabeth's cheeks.

— The point is, your birthday present isn't a thing, or an object. It's an experience. Something good, relaxing — he approached, bringing one of his hands to her cheek — In fact, you're already living that experience. I prepared the environment, bought the flowers, organized dinner and the bath, everything for you to feel like you deserve.

— Like I deserve...

— Good. Relaxed. Happy — he replied in a low voice, his thumb brushing her skin, his eyes locked with hers. She felt like she was being hypnotized — Now I want to make you feel even better. But, I need you to want it.

— Want…

— Do you want it, Elisabeth?

— Want what? — she asked, as if she had just woken up from a trance. Toto leaned in front of her, resting his hands on the mattress beside her thighs. He wasn't even touching her, but it felt like his fingers were burning her skin, the tingling in her belly almost unbearable.

— Do you want your gift?

— My gift?

— Do you want to have the most pleasurable night of your life, Elisabeth?

She swallowed hard.

The offer was tempting.

With the words stuck in her throat, Elisabeth just nodded her head. A shadow of a smile appeared on Toto's face.

— Words, baby. I want to hear from you.

— Yes — she whispered — I do.

A smile crept onto his face as his brown eyes seemed to darken further. Taking one of her hands, Toto lifted his torso and, pulling gently, he got Elisabeth back to her feet, not without difficulty, as her legs felt like they were made of jelly. When she managed to regain her balance, she looked at him, who was watching her curiously.

— For starters, I need you to take off your clothes.

Automatically, she brought her hands up to the shirt she was wearing, pulling it over her head carelessly. Then, she slid her pajama bottoms down her legs. With her clothes thrown into a corner, Elisabeth put her arms at her sides, the cold air making her skin prickle. Then, she looked up at Toto, who was staring at her with a smile at the corner of his mouth.

— I meant.. all of your clothes, Liesl — he said, his voice low.

Glancing down, she found his finger gliding gently across the elastic of the panties she was wearing. They were just basic white panties, far from the sexiest pair she owned. But Toto didn't care. He had never cared about what she was wearing when they were going to have sex, whether or not she was wearing luxurious lingerie or comfortable cotton panties, as long as when she took them off, her pussy was there, wet and ready for him to do whatever he desired.

— Take it off for me — Elisabeth whispered.

Toto tilted his head, looking at her.

— I'd love to, Liesl, but tonight I'm in control — he said, in a serious tone — And you are the one taking your panties off.

She pressed her lips together, trying to ignore the heat coursing through her skin.

— As you wish, Mr. Wolff.

Sliding the panties down her legs, Elisabeth stifled a gasp as cool air made contact with the wetness between her thighs. After kicking the garment to the corner along with the T-shirt and pants, she found herself naked in front of Toto. His eyes roamed over her skin with curiosity, which made her desire grow.

However, that wasn’t the only thing exciting her. The stark contrast between the two of them made Elisabeth's anticipation ever more present. He was still fully dressed while she was completely naked. It was a clear game of power and control, and it was all new to her. After all, Toto had never been the dominating type, and she wasn’t very good at being submissive — she just didn’t have the personality for it.

At that moment, naked and at Toto’s disposal to do whatever he wanted with her body, she didn't feel vulnerable or fragile, as Elisabeth thought she would if she was ever in this situation. To her surprise, she felt confident. Powerful. Beautiful.

— Lie on your back for me — Toto finally said, after a few seconds of silence. She obeyed almost immediately, facing the bed. Then Elisabeth felt him approach — Close your eyes, Liesl.

Again she obeyed, feeling the silk of the black cloth he held in his hand slide across her face, stopping right in front of her eyelids, completely obscuring her vision.

— Are you comfortable, Liesl?

— Yes — she replied in a low voice. After answering, she felt Toto's hands land on her waist, their heat causing a wave of excitement to run over Elisabeth's skin. He gently rotated her back to her starting position.

— See anything, baby? — she heard Toto ask from somewhere in front of her.

— No.

— Are you sure?

— Absolutely, Toto.

— Good — he said. She could practically hear his smile in his voice — Now, I'm going to help you to bed, okay?

Elisabeth nodded and felt Toto take her hands and gently push her back, making her take a step, then another, until she was resting the backs of her thighs against the mattress. Elisabeth first sat on the bed, feeling the fabric of the comforter that covered the bed against her skin, the softness of it taking her by surprise. She had never realized how soft the texture was.

After hearing Toto direct her to move further back so that she would be in the middle of the bed, she laid down on the mattress with a sigh, her heart pounding in her chest. Without being able to see anything, every other one of her senses were in overdrive to compensate. Elisabeth could smell the aroma of the vanilla scented candle that had escaped from the bathroom present in the air, and she could hear the sound of Toto's footsteps as he walked around the bed. Imagining him pacing back and forth, scrutinizing her like a feast served just for him made her squeeze her tights together.

— Is there a problem, Elisabeth? — he asked somewhere at her feet, in a serious tone.

— No — she replied.

One of his hands landed on her ankle, fingers gliding lightly over her skin. Elisabeth swallowed hard, her lips pursed and heat coursing through her body in waves. She just couldn't understand how that simple touch had so much power over her.

— None at all?

— No, none.

— You're wondering what I'm doing, aren't you? — he murmured, pulling his fingers away — Imagining what I'm planning to do with you tonight.

Elisabeth didn't answer, too focused on the tingling growing between her legs. Until she felt the bed sink in on her right side, as if he were settling down with her on the mattress, one of his hands resting on her belly, just above her navel.

— Tell me what you're imagining, Liesl — Toto whispered, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her skin — I want to hear what you're thinking.

— I'm not… thinking about…

— You are, I can tell by the way your cheeks are red. Come on, tell me. Or I'm going to have to leave you like this for the rest of the night.

— You wouldn't do that — Elisabeth said. She couldn’t help but sound a little indignant.

— Don't doubt me, Miss Lauda — he murmured — I'm capable of a lot, especially when it comes to you.

— Oh, yes? What exactly are you capable of?

Toto laughed, pulling his hand away from her body.

— My love, I'm the one asking the questions here. And, you didn't answer the question I asked earlier.

She pressed her lips together, a little annoyed.

— I was thinking about you walking around the bed, looking at me like a feast.

— So you see yourself as a feast, Elisabeth?

— You see me as a feast, Torger — she shot back, making him laugh again.

— Is this your way of telling me to eat you?

Elisabeth didn't answer, too distracted by the image of his face between her legs causing a new wave of heat to run through her skin. And she was sure her own body had betrayed her when she felt a warm breath against her ear.

— Tell me what you want me to do, baby — Toto whispered, his hand caressing her belly again — Tell me what's on your mind.

— I'm thinking about the first time we had sex, in Sochi — Elisabeth said softly — I'm thinking about the way you touched me, asking what I liked. I'm thinking about how you slid your lips down my body, kissing my skin, until you reached my…

In the middle of her explanation, a groan escaped her lips. The hand that was on her stomach slid down as she spoke, his middle finger finding her clit and drawing small circles, slowly. If that was already pleasurable under normal circumstances, now, deprived of her sight, it was much better.

— You can go on, I'm listening.

— I…I can't — she stammered lightly before letting out a high, high-pitched moan.

— Care for me to stop so you can talk? — Toto asked, his finger stopping to move between her legs.

— No, no, please continue — Elisabeth whimpered, her hips moving in search of more friction. However, he did exactly the opposite of what she had asked.

— I want to hear from you. Finish your thought first, then I'll continue.

Elisabeth let out a frustrated grunt, one hand groping blindly down his arm, trying to get him to move, to no avail.

— Toto...

— Tell me what you were thinking — he said, his tone more like an order than a request. Completely vulnerable in that bed, Elisabeth didn't dare disobey him.

— I was thinking about your mouth on my pussy, sucking and licking me with such passion I felt like I'd just died and gone to heaven. No man had ever fucked me the way you fucked me that night and every other night since. I love your mouth, your tongue and the way you combine every element.

— Do you want me to use my mouth, then?

Elisabeth just nodded, a whimpering sound escaping her lips. Removing his hand from her pussy, Toto got up from the bed without saying a word.

— Toto? Are you there?!

Silence. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the adrenaline of pleasure and the anxiety of being possibly alone and completely vulnerable had her reaching for her satin blindfold.

— Don't even think about taking your blindfold off, Elisabeth — Toto said from somewhere at the foot of the bed.

— But…

— I'm here — he said, resting his hands on her ankles, slowly pulling them apart — And I'm not going anywhere.

She felt the mattress sink between her legs, as if Toto was settling into that space. His hands repositioned her feet so they were planted on the bed and her knees bent. Elisabeth was completely exposed to him, anticipation making something in her belly tingle.

— You know, Liesl — he began, a finger idly running down her thigh — I've imagined that night in Sochi many times. I always thought about what it would be like when I finally had you all to myself. I imagined thousands of scenarios. I imagined from the most romantic scenes to the dirtiest. I imagined everything from a simple goodnight kiss after dinner to pulling you into the tire room at the Nurburgring and letting you angry-fuck me for taking you on that lap. In the end, you chose the exact scenario that I had never thought of.

— In a hotel? — she whispered.

— No. With you taking the initiative — Toto replied, planting a kiss on the side of her knee. “He's between my legs”, Elisabeth thought — You always seemed so shy, so delicate. I thought it was going to be up to me to take the first step. And then you showed up in my room, you took off your dress, and I knew you were mine. Finally mine.

His lips slowly slid over her skin, placing kisses along the way to the spot between her legs. When he was getting to where she most wanted him to touch her, Toto stopped and walked back the same way. He was teasing her.

— I didn't even know where to start when I put you in my bed. I wanted to do it all at once. I wanted to feel your taste, your heat, your touch, but I knew that, more important than me at that moment, it was you — he murmured, giving attention to the other leg — So, I decided to start by touching you, getting to know you, finding out what turned you on. Seeing you come for the first time is my favorite memory.

Hearing him say those things while touching her gently made her feel like she was melting under his fingers.

— Please — she whimpered softly.

— What do you want?

— Please, I need you.

— What do you want me to do for you?

— Anything, just make me come, please.

Elisabeth heard a low, almost devilish giggle.

— As you wish, baby — he replied, taking one long lick to spread her wetness across her pussy, a loud moan escaping her lips as her hands gripped the bed’s comforter. His ministrations were slow and patient, as if he wanted to understand what each movement, each rhythm, each direction provoked in her body and face. It was the kind of delicious torture only he knew how to do, the way it left her legs shaking and her heart racing.

Alternating between soft touches with her tongue and vigorous sucks, Elisabeth began to feel a familiar sensation in her belly, as if it were a balloon being inflated little by little. And she knew that the moment it popped, it would be something breathtaking.

— Toto — she whimpered as she felt him descend, his tongue playing at her entrance, teasing her.

— Want my fingers to help you, baby? — he murmured against her body, the vibration of his voice making her gasp.

— Yes — Elisabeth choked out.

She was so wet that Toto’s fingers slipped inside of her easily, bending to find the right spot inside her. The spot he knew would make her back arch and the dirtiest words leave her lips.

— Fuck — she moaned, bringing a hand to his head, fingers clenching in his hair — This, yes!

The balloon continued to inflate in her abdomen, her hips moving erratically against Toto's face, trying to seek out more friction. Combined with his fingers and tongue, Elisabeth felt every second closer to orgasm.

— Yes, yes, yes, this, yes — she murmured, her breathing labored and the muscles in her body completely tense. She was almost there — Don't stop, please, please, please...

Then, the balloon popped.

Elisabeth let out a moan so loud the neighbors would probably have heard it, her body shaking with the waves of pleasure that ran through her skin. Orgasms in general were great, but Toto's were completely different. There was an extra ingredient in the mix that made them more ravishing.

It was his sweetness, his affection, his dedication to her that made her believe that, contrary to what she thought, she did deserve to be loved the way he loved her. And feeling that love in the small gestures, in the way Toto took care of her and made a point of making her feel good, made her feel filled with something she had never felt before meeting him.

Happiness.

She was still recovering when she felt Toto's lips move up her body, placing kisses on her sensitive skin, until they reached her mouth. Savoring her own pleasure on his tongue, Elisabeth brought her hands to the back of his neck, caressing it. Then he pulled away and, with one hand, removed the blindfold that covered her eyes.

After a few seconds of trying to get used to the brightness of the room, Elisabeth found Toto staring at her with a look of concern.

— Are you okay?

— I'm fine — she replied, her fingers stroking the back of his head — Why?

— You're crying.

Elisabeth blinked, feeling her eyes wet. She hadn't felt the tears run down her skin, perhaps because of the blindfold. But, now that he had spoken, she realized that, in fact, she was crying. But inside her, there was no hint of sadness or anguish.

— I'm fine — Elisabeth repeated, more to herself than Toto.

— Did I hurt you? — he asked softly, almost as if he was feeling guilty for making her orgasm.

— No, no, you didn't hurt me — she said, watching his expression. At that moment, looking at his face brought a new wave of emotion, her eyes filling with more tears. Elisabeth only felt love. Pure, raw and simple.

— Then why are you crying?

— Because I love you — she whispered.

Toto raised an eyebrow.

— You’re crying because you love me?

— I'm crying because you showed me what happiness is. You showed me what it's like to be truly happy. You made me blossom when I thought I was just a barren stump, Torger. And I love you for it.

He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers.

— I love you too, Elisabeth. More than I can put on words.

After a few seconds of silence, Elisabeth brought her hand to his face.

— Can you lay down with me? — she whispered — I wanna feel you close to me.

— Of course, baby — Toto answered, settling down next to her on the bed, placing a kiss on her forehead. Wrapped in her embrace, Toto’s arms resting on her waist, Elisabeth felt completely safe.

She was at home.

#toto wolff #toto wolff smut #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x oc #wlffog #natsversion #scwlff

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