#butches in the wild i love you!

[butcharium]

I was helped by a butch librarian today, she could not change that the library scanner didn't accept my usb-c flash drive, but she DID change my day for the better!

[ashleyeveerson]

Haven't been able to think about anything other than the victorian/edwardian/WW1 twink and his 80's punk almost-boyfriend for a week, send help

[zeldaseyebrows]

The Hero(ine) of Hyrule!

Happy Pride, here's the Zelesbians!

[ramenwithbroccoli]

hey. turns out there's a wholeass robot i keep forgetting to post about besides it's rapid development so ughh

meet Bernie!

originally named Bernadetta (but she just goes by Bernie) it was build in 1949, with strong mechanisms destined for factory work and a red matter core installed at the back of her head - to keep it as high and far away from dangerous tools and chemicals as possible. it did great in it's work - until a tragedy from the shoreline made general attitudes more and more hostile towards the "robots"

after the story of Giewont broke the news, Bernie's work got tougher as people all around her either feared or outright despised her for what she was. when one day it finally fought back against the harassment, her anger was too great to control. it ended up seriously injuring two of her co-workers and losing its job

with no place in the world that deemed her dangerous, she stuck to the only thing that brought her relief - anger. with all the injustice that happened to her, she decided to pin the blame on the one who started it all - Giewont. it didn't help that her now biggest enemy escaped the country and was never caught. Benrie promised itself to get its revenge one way or another, resentment getting worse with each day she was stuck in the smoking ruins of a hostile country while Giewont left god knows where.

but there was another thing that kept her going. messing around with nothing to life for, Bernie found refuge in creating films. hanging around the producers and actors, perfecting the craft, it found itself amongst the creative group of people who inspired each other. and she drank it all in, sticking out even more from the crowd - if that's even possible with a plasma-ball like head. she also picked up a fancy for motorcycles :]

still, the general public opinions on robots didn't change. that's why it found itself on a mission - to Make Them Understand. because surely, once everyone knows the Truth, they wouldn't treat her so bad. they would know better.

set on her quest to create a movie conveying the Absolute Truth, it found itself in a role of a screenwriter and a director - still, no actors could play their roles as well as she imagined. and so, it's still lead on by three things that power her - revenge, inspirstion and the need to Show Them All

but behind it all. she's still such a loser<3

bonus under the cut:

midnight meme redraw because her ego is fragile as shit<3

[butchdykecxck]

somebody remind me later I wanna write up a post about the expectations yall have for butches and how some of yall truly have not left the patriarchy behind when you came out as lesbians

[potatoesandsunshine]

25 and 47? :)

25. what’s your revision or rewriting process like?: i often move events around in stories when i’m editing them! i really enjoy the feeling of looking over a rough draft and just kind of scooting the paragraphs around to make them flow better. but to be honest i’m a pretty light editor! i do most of the thinking during the outlining stage, and by the time i have a rough draft done i’m at the “fuck it, just post it” place. by now i should know to just sleep on it and come back the next day for another pass; doing that could improve my writing a lot! but i just don’t have the patience :P

47. what story are you most proud of?: extremely predictable of me to say this but it’s gotta be it’s a thousand words in the blink of an eye. small jobs takes me one million years with each installment and it was the most ambitious of them so far (and imo the best one by far from a story perspective). plus thirty-one varieties of sacramental wine is a close second because i get a real kick out of being the only person to come up with the galavant/critical role crossover. is it good? who can say. is it the only fic tagged with both of those fandoms? yes. i love being the first person to publish something. one of these days i'll write some of the more out there rarepair ideas i've got just so i can be the first one to use some relationship tags.

[chilipepperconverse]

,

[fulane-de-tal]

shoutout to the butch at the burger joint today you were SMOKIN

[princessefemmelesbian]

Not to be rude but a lot of white lesbians on here will see an attractive white(and especially if they're skinny, conventionally attractive, cis, and feminine) woman and go "omg she's so pretty and gorgeous and elegant, gosh, why are women so beautiful! I want her to hold me and hug me and kiss me!" but the second you see an attractive non-white woman(especially if they are fat, trans, dark-skinned, or butch, but lbr y'all do this to femmes of color as well due to how masculinized we are), suddenly y'all's brains short-circuit and you don't know how to complement us without depriving us of our humanity because you still internalized the idea that woc are wild impure animals and so out comes the "omg I want her to step on me and choke me and slap me across the face and make me her slave!!!" and y'all think it's okay because you're making yourself "subservient" to us but really all you're doing is reinforcing harmful stereotypes of woc as more aggressive, sexual, violent, inhumane, and less feminine, sweet, loving, and/or gentle than white women, and you guys think it's a compliment but it's really fucking not and I'm here to tell you that being a lesbian doesn't invalidate your white privilege if you talk about and fetishize lesbian woc this way. 😡

[mouwrites]

Thinking thoughts about these guys again

Creepypasta/MH - Things That Make Them Think of You

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Tim/Masky, "Ticci" Toby

Jeff the Killer

Violence. Specifically, committing it

I know that sounds bad, but he gets so high off of that stuff

The adrenaline rushing through his veins, the wild smile that comes to his face, the noise, the sights... it's euphoria for him

And when he reaches his peak, endorphins at maximum saturation, that's when he thinks of you

It's almost like he subconsciously asks himself if there's anything in the world that could make him happy like this, and his subconscious responds by conjuring an image of you

As if he couldn't get any happier, thinking of you just pushes him higher

This happens a lot...

He'll be killing someone, already over the moon, then he'll blast to Mars when he thinks of you

And he starts associating you with violence; even if you're the gentlest person in the world

It's the happiness it brings him that links it to you

Though if you're a psycho (affectionate) like him, there might be another reason he associates it with you lol

It just gets worse over time; eventually he can't even see other people committing violent acts without thinking of you

He'll be watching a horror movie, and blood will splatter the screen and he'll be like: Nice. Y/n's nice too. Y/n... <3

Jane the Killer

Quite the opposite of Jeff; it's the quiet moments that get her thinking of you

(my reasoning is confusing but I'll try my best to explain T-T)

And there are two reasons for this

One, because whenever she gets a moment to think to herself, her brain always wants to think of you first

Maybe it's just hunting that hit of dopamine it gets when she imagines your smile, or the way your hands feel in hers...

Or maybe it's just that it's become a habit for her to think of you so often, so it's second-nature that she does so when she gets the chance

But the second reason is that she loves peace, and you are her peace :)

She's a vengeful person with a lot of turmoil inside, so when her environment is peaceful, she tries to follow suit

She's just taking what she can get before she has to go back to hate and obsession

So she imagines the peaceful things in her life

Namely, you

Even if you're not a very peaceful person, she feels at ease when she's with you

So, when it's quiet, she thinks of you to quiet herself

Memories of forehead touches and holding hands are more than enough to fill the silence :)

Clockwork

Literally everything.

I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but Clockwork will find the most random things that remind her of you

She’s got a very creative mind; she can find the subtlest of things that make her think of you

Oftentimes they’ll be disturbing things…. Like a dead animal or smth

But she gets a little smile when she thinks of you anyway :)

She’ll probably send you a picture of whatever it was that reminded her of you

So you’ll just get a text out of nowhere like:

[picture of a dead wasp] “thought of you <3”

After a while you’ll learn to just not ask

Because you’ll definitely get one of these texts AT LEAST every other day, if not every day

Sometimes they’re actually nice things though! Like a song or a pretty sunset :)

Or something she saw while shopping that made her think of you; she always makes sure to steal …obtain those things

And ofc she gifts them to you 😌

Nina the Killer

I think it depends on your aesthetic

To me, Nina is someone who’s very in tune with aesthetics

Even if yours is super niche, or it doesn’t fit under a specific category like “emo” or “butch” or even “clowncore,” she’s got it DOWN

And so it’s always things that fit your aesthetic that make her think of you

Maybe it’s a view: a dark forest, a bright sunset in your favorite color, a sunny park, an eerily empty sidewalk…

Maybe it’s clothing: pants, shirts, dresses, jackets… always the exact kind of thing you’d wear :)

Maybe it’s music: she listens to music like. All the time. So she’s definitely at least dipped her toes into a genre that’s so totally you

Or maybe it’s something miscellaneous: a pop tart flavor, a blanket, a picture, the color on a soda dispenser…

No matter what it is, you’re guaranteed to love it

She always manages to surprise you with yet another random thing perfectly suited to your aesthetic

And she’s always on the hunt for more >;)

If it’s something she can physically bring to you, you best believe she will though

And if you decide you hate it (you won’t, but maybe later when your aesthetic changes), you guys light a bonfire and burn it together :)

Tim/Masky

It’s a Polaroid picture of you

He’s not in the picture; it’s just you

The flash is on, illuminating you and leaving the background in dark obscurity

He took it himself one night when he was just enamored with the way you looked

He did it casually, just telling you to look at the camera

The rest was all you; maybe you smiled, maybe you threw up a peace sign…

Whatever you did, he felt it captured your essence perfectly

He stared at the photo for a long time after it came out, and he still stares at it frequently

He carries it deep in his wallet where no one can find it

He’ll pull it out when he needs to think of you, usually when he’s especially down

Which is pretty often, my boy is troubled :(

He’ll trace his fingers around the edges, remembering that night

Your voice fills his ears, your scent fills his nose, and suddenly he’s aching to see you in person again

And he will; he’ll probably call or text you soon :)

“Ticci” Toby

Honestly? Probably something super obscure related to some kind of inside joke between you two

I’ll paint an example

Maybe you two were in the kitchen together, and you wanted him to get out the milk for you

But you ended up calling it a “mug of jilk” instead of a “jug of milk”

Toby, of course, bursts into laughter

He teases you for ages afterwards, calling milk “jilk” and always pointing out jugs of milk with a knowing grin

You’re in on it too though

You always snicker whenever he does those things

Maybe that’s why it becomes so special to him; it amuses the both of you

He gets to laugh and hear you laugh :D

So (in this case) he’ll think of you whenever he sees a mug of j (oh gosh oh no you guys got me too) jug of milk

And he probably takes pictures to send you too

You’ll just get a text that says “jilk mugs spotted ‼️” and a picture of the milk aisle at the grocery store

He likes to imagine your laugh when he sends texts like those :)

Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my lovey doves <33

(divider by saradika)

[myceliacrochet]

Reblog if answer tysm!!!💗

Let the match between purple and pink begin!!

Hey, so

I DON'T WANT MY FRIEND TO DIE and it's really affecting me.

Fatima is 36 and is one of the first Palestinians I met through the mutual community I'm in on Facebook.

She's the person I did the SSRI strike for (good times🥴)

Often when I'm feeling like giving up (like today), I keep going for her youngest, Baby Ahmed.

HER FATHER USES A WHEELCHAIR AND NEEDS ADULT DIAPERS AND REFRIGERATED INSULIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Slowly dying with her family while all the responsibility falls on her means she can't even let herself spiral.

Like every Palestinian I've met, Fatima is so accepting of people from all backgrounds and identities, and this really comes through on Facebook.

☮️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️⚧️

She always tells me she believes in me and I'm a strong, good woman 🥺💗🥰

They need to escape before they get blown up!!!!!!

Their old tent got blown up before and it's just a matter of time.

They're freezing cold and wet, starving, and demoralized.

If you love someone with diabetes, or who is a caretaker, or want to help because she's my friend, or just want to relieve some of the suffering in the world -- please help however you can.

I also have two products to sell for her -- a baby blanket clutch purse (the pastel one not the blue one) and a sticker. DM if interested.

Clutch: $30 + shipping

Sticker: $15 + shipping

Fatima's campaign is verified by the Sidra Project!!

@monstermashpotato @wellsbering @akajustmerry @ihavenotfallenyet @fly-sky-high-09 @wirehairwiredstare @seeyouguyslater @innovatorbunny @imjustheretotrytohelp @awetistic-things @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sea-shame @blomstermjuk @mythiedew @operationladybug @acehimbo @butch-king-frankenstein @butchniqabi @booasaur @butchfeygela @butchagitprop @butchjeremyfragrance @ohjinyoung @revoltingcocks @rememberthelaughter2016

@parfaithaven @fantasykiri5 @sadbiooi @monotremesoup @ilikefoodandyourmom @radicalhighway @boypussydilf @wyllach @agremlinthing @chingaderita @huzni @bagofbonesmp3 @hussyknee @treffyfrinn @thatsonehellofabird @neechees @queerpotat @queerstudiesnatural @maester-cressen @leviathan-supersystem @lampsbian @sundung @notedchampagne @shinydreamtacoprune-blog @rad-lightning-boy

[whatever-imagines]

butch wolverine smut with pussy eating + musk? pretty please 🙏

Feral

Rated: E for explicit

Tags: whelp; here’s one of the filthiest things I’ve written.

Reader is afab; smut, not proofread we die like so many of the x-men

—-

You’ve been gone for a mission for four days, and Logan’s practically crawling the walls. The anxiety eats at her; it’s been so long since she’s let anyone near her emotionally, now that she has you, you give her all sorts of heart-attacks.

Was she like this before? Before she lost her memories 16 years ago? Always so worried about loved ones? (Did she have loved ones to worry over?)

When Scott finally told her that the recon team had returned safely, Logan all but marched to the hanger, eager to see you alive and in one piece.

She smells you before she sees you; you but slightly different. Headier, muskier.

You come off the jet looking tired and annoyed. Hair unkempt and face slightly sheened from the oil of your skin.

Logan’s been on a few recon missions. Especially on the jet, there’s no proper way to wash yourself, and since most of the cabin is full of supplies, there’s no space to bring extra clothes, and it’s encouraged to stay in uniform the whole time in case you need to spring into action.

So, Logan deduced that you haven’t washed or changed clothes in four days.

And you smell sooooooo good.

You smile weakly at her, and Logan attempt a normal looking smile back, trying not to look as strained or aroused as she felt.

“Hey.” You greet lightly, coming closer, opening your arms for a hug.

Logan’s smile turned tight as she allowed you into her space. “Hey, princess.” She says in a loving, almost sarcastic way, trying very hard to seem nonchalant.

You pull away from her embrace with a questioning look. “You okay?” You ask quietly, as not to alert the others. They were thrumming around you, Storm complaining about needing a shower and Scott making some leader-like comment.

You were always so thoughtful like that; it made Logan near feral with want.

The Wolverine leans down, and places a kiss at the top of your uniform’s collar, taking in a deep whiff of your scent.

“My room.” She growls out lowly, a single hand playing with your fingers.

You sigh, “Lo, I haven’t showered in four days, I’m foul right now.” You try to explain.

All Logan does is tunnel vision stares you down, mouth tight and she’s almost shaking with how badly she’s restraining herself.

Sighing clicks in you head and you sigh again. “Oh, you would, wouldn’t you. Wild woman.” You chastise teasingly. “Can I at lease get out of uniform?”

“You have 15 minutes to be on my bed.”

You level her with an irked eyebrow.

“Please.” Logan tacks on with a whine.

You smile victoriously. “I’ll be there in ten as soon as you let me go.”

Logan is suddenly very aware that she was gripping your biceps in a desperate tightness, and slaps her hands down to her thighs once she comes too.

—-

Her nose bumps your clit for the nth time so far, and for the nth time, Logan inhales deeply.

You made it to her room in 8 minutes, excitedly changing into a loose shirt that probably was Logan’s at some point but was now yours, and lounge pants. As soon as you crossed the threshold of Logan’s room, without much fanfare, she pinched the fabric against your thighs and pantsed you. You reflexively doubled over to try and cover yourself but all Logan did was use your position as an opportunity to scoop you up over her shoulder and dumped you on her unmade bed.

She spend about two minutes with her face in your neck, licking and sucking in bruises, her hands rubbing you up and down along your sides, making you gasp and giggle. She hardly spoke a word, opting to growl aloud instead.

Slowly she made her way down your body, still licking, still nipping at your skin, pushing your/her shirt up to your collar bone; rubbing in her salvia into your neck, your ribs, your stomach and pelvic bone, at some point backing off the bed to kneel on the floor, drawing you towards her.

She bullied your thighs over her shoulders and stared you down, unblinkingly, as she licked your core, tongue broad and hot.

You relented, throwing your head back and moaning.

Now you were here, almost to the point of tears due to Logan’s ministrations.

Her hands were so warm, holding your legs open, blunt fingernails digging into the meat of your thighs. Her quick and clever tongue continuously bringing you to the brink before backing off, making you whine and moan in ecstasy and displeasure in spades.

She was sniffing you a lot, breaking away frequently to smell the juncture of her leg and hip, the divot behind your knee, even going as so far to lean up entirely, one hand coming down to rub at your sex so she could dart forward and smell your armpit.

You almost laugh, could have if you weren’t gasping for air at the ferocity that Logan was eating out with moments later.

Logan’s tongue lapped at your hole, her thumb swiping at your bumble of nerves harshly before she moves up minutely to suck at your clit.

You beg, “Please, please lemme cum now, please!”

With you still in her mouth, Logan hums deeply, the vibrations making you clench around nothing and you sob.

Logan continues to suck and hum, growling into you, when the blunt, wide tip of het thumb breaches you ever so slightly, pushing you over the edge.

You mouth went slack and you squeeze your eyes shut until the buzz in your body resembled less of an angry hornets hive and more of a cellphone on silent.

As you catch your breath, Logan stands from her position from the floor, finally shucking off her pants and shirt.

Bitch didn’t even get undressed before wrecking you.

“Fuck you.” You gasp; grabbing at her.

Logan chuckles and kneels on the bed, leaning down until she’s on top of you, the weight familiar and crushing.

“Sorry, lost my cool there for a minute.” She says, finally about her wits. She licks your neck again, making you whimper.

Logan rolls off you with a satisfied sigh, the fingers still covered in her spit and your slick come up to rub at the area she just licked.

“What about you?” You couldn’t help but ask. For as selfish Logan tries to seem, she really was quite the giver.

“I’m giving you a minute to catch your breath, princess.” She smiles, once again feral and wild. She leans into your ear, a hand coming to you with the hem of the shirt you had sweated through. “I dunno what I like more…” she growls. “You smelling like that or you wearing my shit.”

You exhale heavily. It was gonna be a long day.

[femme-bat]

I was chosen between the ladies of my village to be sacrificed as a bride to the werewolf king, only to discover the king in question is you, a butch lesbian who loves nature and cares for their pack. We live peacefully for a few weeks, until the full moon, when you become a thirsty beast, who takes one look to my delicate body and decides to claim me as your mate. You rip off my clothes, only to find out I'm wet and throbbing, my body begging for yours. You listen only to your instincts and without ceremony, starts to fuck me against the wall, holding my human body with your claws, your mind lost in wild and lustful thoughts of breeding me. Our fortunate encounter takes almost a whole night, and by the morning, I'm exhausted, looking at your now human and softer body, and your satisfied expression. I lay a kiss on top of your forehead, and silently vow to stay by your side no matter what.

This is about lesbian sex. Men and minors DNI.

[vaperarmand]

my friend rashid: a fic rec list

welcome back to iwtv fanfic friday! this week's theme was born out of my love for rashidmand, but of course i couldn't stop there, so i've included some featuring real rashid as well. on that note, if you're looking for a sign to write a fic featuring real rashid or rashidmand, THIS IS IT.

drawing in a subject by nestorius (e, 1.7k words)

Armand interrupts. (immediately post season one reveal, teensy bit character study, daniel's "inexplicable" desire for rashid. made for me in a lab)

a memo from human resources by nestorius (not rated, 2.5k words)

The pitfalls of having a vampire boss. (the real rashid prelude to above. his relationship with louis in this drives me wild. i still believe this is rashid's lore and you can't stop me.)

Live your role by Thunder__Puss (e, 1.5k words)

Louis and Armand bed down in the penthouse. Rashid overhears a bit more than he'd care to. (ARMAND PLAYING RASHID IN BED WITH LOUIS ... THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF)

honey and pineapple by duri (e, 3.5k words)

Rashid pays Daniel a visit. (hey girls did you know that uhmmmmm... armand wants daniel so bad. like OH MY GOD)

I like your getup, if you know what I mean by cannibalenthusiast (aka yours truly) (e, 1.7k words)

His brain conjures the image of Rashid standing primly with a plush towel draped over his slim wrist. “For your jizz, Mister Molloy,” he says. Daniel snorts and spits onto his hand. (sorry to be reccing my own work but it was my first one for the pairing and i'm proud of it ok? daniel jerks off thinking of rashidmand and rashidmand sort of unknowingly provides a helping hand. it's important to me)

Taking All That A Person Can Give by anonymous (e, 6k words)

Daniel fantasizes about "Rashid". Set during and after 1x05. (mind the tags on this one! daniel and armand both get tortured. sexually. awesome crazy work.)

honeysuckle sips from your rolling hips by ultraviolet_glow aka @lesbians4armand (m, 1.4k words)

It was the viscosity that got to him, Daniel thought. Something deeply obscene, sensual about the viscosity of honey compared to the viscosity of blood. Both were natural, bodily fluids, if you thought too hard about it. Thick and dripping and sweet. (YAAAAY more wet dreams for daniel!!! this is just one of many awesome rashidmand fics violet has written <3)

honey and pineapple by softestbutch aka @softest-butch (e, 1.8k words)

He’s thinking of you, Rashid. Louis felt Armand’s body flush at the use of the name. He ran the flat of his tongue over the wound in his neck, continuing to drink. Our boy. He wants you. (awesomeeee take on the 1.5 scene with a little bit of loumand as well. i can never get enough)

[thefemmeeros]

gift-wrapped for them

MEN AND MINORS DNI

summary: it’s your butch’s best friend’s birthday… and you’re their present. or— you get shared and fucked by two butch cocks and really, really enjoy it.

cw throat fucking, t1t fucking, some spanking, some demeaning-ing. calling butch daddy. calling butch sir.

hope you pervs love it and let me know what else you want me to write, missed u all a lot

///—//—//—//—///

the laundry fresh smell of these sheets is familiar. you nestle into them, wanting to reach out and grab your bolster — but you quickly feel the resistance of some silky fabric. your hands are bound in front of you.

“look at that. the princess is awake.”

your head hurts. the last thing you remember is saying goodbye at your butch, charlie’s best friend’s blowout birthday party last night. you’d given the birthday butch, jack, a lingering hug and a kiss on the cheek. she’d responded with a wink, just as charlie elatedly exclaimed a promise that she’d just love her gift, which jack would receive soon. you knocked out pretty quickly once you got home— you were a notorious lightweight.

which explains the trouble you have now opening your eyes, your hazy mind characteristic of one of your hangovers.

“charlie honey?” you slur, forcing your eyelids apart. you’re sure this is one of their kinky little games, something they’re wont to do and something you often gladly partake in. “i’m stuck,” you whine, sleepy but willing to play along.

the lights in your bedroom are dim. it’s still dark out. and the sight before you leaves breathless and afraid.

two figures stand before you, shirtless, hard packing in their boxers.

“happy birthday, jackie-boy,” says your butch, folding their arms over their chest.

“charlie?” you say with more urgency now, straining against your restraints—you see now that it’s a red, silk ribbon, tied into a bow. “charlie, what’s happening?”

you ignore the heat pooling between your legs at the duo’s ravenous stares as you wiggle on the bed, raising yourself to a kneel on the mattress.

flashing through your mind like a twisted, horny supercut are all the conversations you’ve had with charlie about your desire to be passed around, their enthusiastic reciprocity, your affection for their best friend—the pieces are all there, but is what you think is about to be done to you actually going to be done?

charlie casts you a meaningful look, their gaze softening, but in the subtlest of ways only you can see. they’re so handsome, baring their top surgery scars as they bend down to get on your level, eyes brown pools of ruthless power that, in an instant, tell you how badly they want to hurt you, break you. and it makes you so fucking wet.

“you remember your safe word, princess?” they whisper low, stroking your hair out of your face. your bit lip and sparking eyes and shaky breath give away the game—you’re not afraid, you’re dying for this. charlie sees that. charlie sees your deviance, sees past the white lace and bashful smiles, and draws out the wild woman. charlie asks you to take because they give you faith they’ll keep giving.

being shared, it’s one of your most dirty, secret fantasies—one you’ve never gotten to live out. in taking the control from you, in tying you up like a gift-wrapped femme for their buddy in your unconscious state, they’re telling you, with so much tenderness, there’s no amount of shame too great, no wall you could build too robust to keep them from making you feel good.

you nod, whisper, “i remember.”

you wonder if there’s still traces of alcohol in your breath, if your eye makeup is still intact or smeared already, if your defenceless, disheveled state is turning them on even more.

charlie kisses you, soft and sweet, and you sigh. “this is the last nice thing i’ll say to you tonight, princess. i know you’re gonna be wonderful. i won’t push you past what you can take, and we’ll stop whenever you need to. if you need to safe out and your mouth is stuffed—“

you clench around nothing. oh god.

“—you tap either of us three times. got it?”

you murmur your okay, baby and quickly regret it when they grab your chin, pinch your cheeks with a warning glare. “that’s not what you call me, is it babygirl?”

“no, Daddy. i got it, Daddy. three taps, Daddy,” you make out through their unyielding grasp. they nod, satisfied.

you want them to use you so bad. you want them to get to it already. you don’t need the song and dance. your eyes flick to jack, who’s staring blatantly at your breasts, palming what appears to be an 8-incher straining in her grey boxers.

charlie and jack have always have been the best of friends long before your relationship with charlie began. you knew they had a fling way back in the day, a b-girl for b-girl test that led to them both realising they were stone—but you’d never guess they’d want to share a girl. you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it though. they were both big, immense hunks of butches, your type to a tee— charlie with their broad shoulders, jack with those soft thighs and wide midsection, a wall blotting out the light.

“i’m still your Daddy, but tonight, jackie is your Sir. nod if you understand.”

you nod, your gut burning, your skin tingling.

“we’re going to use your holes to get ourselves off, how we want. however we want.” the emphasis makes you shudder. “you come when i say you can. you speak only when spoken to. and your tears won’t make us stop.”

are you doing a good enough job looking scared? you don’t think you are. you’re having to fight a tawdry smile and a drawled out “promise?” that’s dancing on the tip of your tongue.

then charlie says the words you didn’t even know you needed to hear, but the moment they say them, you feel the last cog click into place, a tether that grounds you to the certainty that you’re going to be okay. they grip your chin, and they say to you, “i’m sharing you. i’m in charge here. jack is fucking you because i said she can. because i own your pussy. i own this pussy.” they grab your warm, wet sex through your barely-there sleep shorts for good measure.

you knew, but the solid reminder that your Daddy is in control; now you’re safe and ready.

charlie draws back up to their full height. “c’mere jackie. come touch our fuckdoll.”

“say less,” murmurs the brown-skinned butch, a notorious player from whom sensuality emanates in dizzying, irresistible waves. she licks her lips as she caresses your cheek, before placing her thumb into your mouth.

you don’t even realise how eagerly you’re sucking till charlie tweaks your nipple and makes you gasp, releasing jack’s finger with a pop. “jesus,” jack murmurs, “you gonna suck our cocks like that? all desperate like that?”

“yes, Sir,” you moan around her thumb, charlie kneeling to your right and playing with your nipples through your tiny white singlet.

“i wanna see her tits,” jack turns to charlie, removing and replacing her thumb with her index and middle finger, coaxing herself deeper into your mouth. “wanna see them while she blows us.”

that she’s not paying attention to you is driving you mad. it’s so unspeakably disrespectful, and so rude, and so fucking hot you feel like you’re getting driven to the edge of something blissful and dangerous.

charlie pulls the thin cotton singlet down past your tits, ripping one of the straps with little effort so they wouldn’t have to untie you. they slap one, growling low before catching a nipple between their teeth and making you cry out, and jack’s fingers don’t let up, prepping your mouth for what’s to come.

“get on the floor. on your knees.”

“yes Daddy.”

they mercifully help you off the bed, the hangover and horniness and sleepiness making you weak in the knees, and settle you onto a pillow—tits hanging out, inner thighs wet with need.

standing, looming over you, leering at you, they stroke themselves through their boxers.

“you want these cocks?”

“yes, Sir! i want them so bad. Sir.” you cry out pathetically, your resolve weakening. both of them chuckle at you, and it’s mean and it’s sexy and the way charlie looks at you with so much love and so much reverence, all of it is pushing you, pushing you.

“open your slut mouth.”

you open.

you once told charlie how you find it hot when they pull their boxers down all the way until only the tip of their butch cock remains sheathed, before releasing all of it and letting it bounce free. they both do this now, teasing you with the sight of their members— charlie’s skin-coloured and curved just how you like it, jack’s jet black and perpendicular to the floor, imposing and maddening with ridges that make you drool.

and they’re both squirting dildos, you note with great pleasure.

“tongue out, princess,” charlie murmurs.

mouth open, tongue out, on your knees before these two butches as they jerk themselves off, you do not wonder if you are broken or wrong for wanting this. you do not feel shy or ashamed anymore. they take that from you, and you just want.

charlie’s cock brushes your cheek, taps on the tip of your tongue, but you’re smart enough not to close your mouth around it quite yet. jack’s joins, both their cocks prodding at your lips and tongue and cheek as your two tormentors breath deeply.

“jack first,” charlie orders. “suck.”

having drooled all over their cocks already, taking the first few inches of jack’s thickness is manageable. but when she moans and grips your hair, shoving you down deeper onto it, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. jack is not like charlie—is not your Daddy, does not want to praise you, or be gentle. jack is exacting.

a perfect Sir.

you relax your throat and look up at her and she moves you up and down on her cock, huffing and groaning with each stroke. “i love fucking that cute little mouth,” she grinds out, “that teasing little mouth.”

she pulls you off her cock with a pop and you gasp in your breath, just in time for charlie’s cock to replace it. this familiar silicone, the memories wash over you and tighten your core more. charlie doesn’t grab your hair to start. no, they let you struggle to handle it with no hands to assist you. they watch you swirl your tongue over the tip and spit on it and stretch your lips around it till they feel you’ve done enough.

your reward is them holding your face and fucking your throat. “look at your Daddy,” they command breathlessly, locking eyes with you and trembling. “look at me while I come down that throat. fuck, watch me empty my fucking — load — goddamn—“

they thrust so deep your eyes roll back and you feel their warm cum on the back of your throat and somehow you swallow around their thick length, swallow them down so good.

“fuck, now i wanna blow my load in her whore mouth too.” jack chuckles. she’d been stroking herself as she watched them, fisting her cock. “but nah, i think i’ll cum in that tight pussy.”

“yes, please Sir,” you can’t help but say.

they don’t let you move, still looming over you with their huge cocks right by your lips.

“Sir,” charlie says simply, so you suck jack.

“now me,” charlie says, so you suck them.

back and forth they make you bounce between the cocks, till you’re panting, the sensation of two different cocks in your mouth overwhelming and the exercise so deeply demeaning. they’re chuckling at you, prodding your lips with their cocks, calling you a cockdrunk slut—and you can’t get enough.

when they’re satisfied, Daddy helps you up and lays you on the bed with your head hanging off one edge and your legs wide open.

when you see the thick black cock, you know it’s Sir who’s settled behind you. you figure she’ll use your throat, but as Daddy lines themself up against your pussy, you feel a cold splatter of lube on your chest.

“gonna fuck her tits?” Daddy asks, amused as they slide in. fuck, it’s like you really are a toy. they use your holes so casually. “good choice.”

you’re so wet and ready that with the added lube, Daddy slides in to the hilt easily, buries themself deep with a groan that vibrates through your being. “gotta stretch our doll’s pussy for jackie-boy,” Daddy says, grabbing your hips and slamming in hard and deep.

meanwhile, Sir’s squeezing and plucking at your nipples with one hand, stroking herself with the other. “gonna fuck these pretty tits now.”

you stare at the space between her legs as she squeezes your tits together and slides between them with a holy shit that’s hot, pinching and toying with your nipples as she thrusts. combined with the sensation of Daddy’s thrusts, you are slipping into a space where you really do believe you’re just a toy, you feel limp and helpless and fuzzy and gone, yet deeply present, each brush of Daddy’s cock on your g-spot making you scream, each rough pinch of your nipple and slide against your cleavage heightened.

“my turn, charlie. i wanna cum. i’m close. but i want it inside. i’ll come on her tits the next time.”

the next time, the next time.

“it’s your gift, jack,” Daddy shrugs, “she’s all stretched for you now.”

shuffling and rearranging. your Daddy lifts your head, and kisses your chin. “good girl,” they whisper, “you’re making Daddy look so good because they have such a well-behaved babygirl.”

pride is warm and sweet. Daddy’s shine is like the Sun’s radiance. you’re happy you’re so well-behaved today.

“on her knees,” commands Sir. “i wanna see how that ass shakes when i slap it.”

Daddy unties you and helps you onto all fours. then a thwak! as Sir spanks your right cheek and another when she spanks your left. you cry out, jerk forward but Daddy holds you there, their eyes trained on the arch of your back and the way your needy ass is sticking out, hungry for their buddy’s cock.

then they’re both slamming into you, Sir’s cock stretching you and Daddy’s cock nestled back into your throat. and each of Sir’s thrusts pushes you deeper onto Daddy’s cock. and each time you choke on Daddy, you squeeze around Sir.

“fuck, look at our girl,” jack moans, reaching forward and gripping a fistful of your hair. “so stuffed. the perfect fucking cockslut.”

with Sir’s expert thrusts and her guiding you on and off Daddy’s cock, your only job is to take their cocks, take them as best as you can. so you set yourself free, you fall off the edge, and you let go.

they let go in kind, slamming into you with newfound ferocity. then jack touches your clit and you’re two seconds from coming. you’re so close. you’re so fucking close.

“that’s right, baby,” Daddy says, because they know. they always know. “you can cum. cum around our cocks.”

“fuck, if she cums, i’m gonna—“

your elbows buckle but Daddy holds you and you scream, you scream around them, an orgasm ripping through every molecule in your body, exploding you till there’s nothing left.

then Sir is coming, emptying her warm load deep into your pussy, and Daddy’s coming too, hips jerking and shaking, and all three of you are a writhing, shaking mass of pleasure and electricity.

when they pull out, groaning and breathing hard, you’re empty and full all at once. you collapse onto your tummy, still trembling slightly, nerve-endings still firing uselessly.

“good job, princess,” murmurs your Daddy. “you did good.”

“but we’re not done with you yet.” Sir swats your ass playfully and grabs a handful.

you smile, and whisper, “promise?”

[lonniemachin]

HELP MARAM AND AHMED REACH 33K BY TONIGHT

I've set an even shorter-term goal for my friend Ahmed's campaign to evacuate Gaza with his family of 5 while we work towards the true short-term goal -- €33k by the end of the night, with only €70 left to achieve it.

I need 7 generous people to please give €10 so this smaller goal can be reached before the night is through, leaving only €2,000 until it hits €35k.

Maram and Ahmed have been displaced 11 times with their three small children, facing disease, starvation, bombing, and exhaustion. They love each other and their children more than anything and want nothing more than to survive and grow with them. I have been speaking to them for months and can attest to their 100% legitimacy. Their beneficiary updates us in a group about the movement of all funds, and they've been vetted by @/el-shab-hussein.

Please give what you can. Due to the unpredictability of the situation, Ahmed's family needs their funds as soon as they can receive them to ensure they have enough to evacuate when the time comes.

https://gofund.me/ce562fee

€32,930/€33,000 NIGHTLY GOAL.

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