#chastity tw

[carnivorousyandeere]

YESSS DREWWWW YOU UNDERSTAND ME I LOVE YOUUUUUU 😭😭😭 i'm so much into chastity stuff it's crazy 😭 are any other ocs of yours into it? locking their darling or being locked??

Okay tbh I didn’t realize how many of them probably WOULD be into it— just hadn’t really thought about it until now. But it’s a good amount of them, actually 😭

( MDNI, No Age In Bio DNI )

Likes Being Caged: THORN, Felicity, CLAY, Memphis, Kurtis

Likes Both, but Being Caged More: IAN, MOTH, Tai

Likes Both About Equally: Airna, ERIK

Likes Both, but Caging more: Mildred, Dakota, Isla, Mehri (but you’d definitely have to introduce her to it first), Byte

Likes Caging: DREW, Cassandra, ANGEL, Kyra, SONIKA, GENESIS, KAYLEE, Elena, Wisteria, GIULIANA, LOTTIE, Cecilia, Marcus

~~~~

Honorable Mentions for Mika and Cyrus, who probably aren’t super into it themselves but would let their Darling cage them if it made them happy 🫡

Second Honorable Mentions for Hailey, Quinn, and Penelope, who probably aren’t super into it but would cage their Darling if it made them happy 🫡

And third category of Honorable mentions specifically to elaborate on Memphis, who howls like he’s been genuinely neutered, like an actual tomcat at the vet. He pretends to hate it soooo much but refuses to safeword, and if you try to unlock him too soon he pouts at you and tries to squirm away 😭

[lady-loveluck]

HEY BOO, DADDY NEEDS A LITTLE OF THAT DIRTY SOUP 🎶

This was a FUN ONE GODDAMN. Will publish timelapse tomorrow probably! Hope you like this!

[angsty-art-ist]

and G-d made Eve to bear the curse of blood

[fluffytimearts]

"Dirty Dudes Must Die"

lil sketchy thing I made in aggie.io

[dead-meat]

The women of Hatchetfeild pulling out guns because it's a lot :p

[3-2-whump]

The Scent of Jasmine

<prev next>

Who's in the mood for some carewhumping after the emotional rollercoaster of almost dying? I know I am!

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for being awesome beta readers

TW/CW: aftermath of mock execution, trauma aftermath, extremely dubious consent, nonverbal whumpee, whumper turned carewhumper, dubiously consensual nudity, death threats, chastity devices (yes, it’s back), forced domesticity, food whump (sort of) (tagging it anyway to cover my bases), intimate whumper

The boss noticed Khaled’s grateful enthusiasm slowly fade into a catatonic silence on the drive home. He didn’t think much of it, though. Poor boy is just shocked is all, he told himself, we can work on that. He parked, got out of the car and led Khaled out of the garage and to the elevator.

His first order of business was to strip Khaled when they got home. The poor thing was soaked in melted snow and cooled piss. He was barely responsive as Thomas pulled him into the laundry room and slowly peeled each layer of clothing off his shivering body. “You need a bath, Khaled.”

Khaled didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at his bare feet with empty, starless eyes. I can’t blame him for being quiet. Anyone would be a little messed up after a mock execution, he figured. He sighed, gently taking the slave’s hand in his and leading him to the master bathroom.

Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he knelt by the large, deep bath tub. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub as Thomas poured a generous glug of bubble bath solution into the marble expanse and cranked the water full-blast, making micro-adjustments to make sure the temperature wasn’t too hot. As a finishing touch, he uncapped a tiny bottle of jasmine oil and dripped a few drops into the tub. The floral scent rose on the plumes of steam coming from the frothing tub.

Once the tub was full enough, Thomas turned off the tap and pulled Khaled closer to the tub. He effortlessly scooped the young man’s cold body into his arms, settling him on the edge of the bath tub before gently lowering him in. “I’m going to help you wash your hair and body. Nod if you understand me.”

Khaled faintly nodded, eyes fully closing as he slumped into the soapy water. “Good boy.” Nothing but a small, contented sounding whimper answered him. At least he’s becoming verbal again.

Thomas methodically washed the young man’s body and hair, being mindful of not getting any soap in his eyes as he massaged his scalp with the shampoo. He noticed the newly forming chafe marks on Khaled’s wrists as he scrubbed his body. All the while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, like “good boy, you’re being so good right now, we’re almost done, I gotta rinse you off and drain the tub next.”

The awareness in Khaled’s eyes was flickering back on once Thomas helped him out of the bath tub and began towel-drying him. “Back with me, beautiful?” he teased.

“Mmm.” Inky dark eyes glittered up at him from dark lashes and damp strands of black hair as Thomas wrapped a soft fluffy towel around his shoulders.

“Yeah, good. Very good.” He procured something small and metallic from behind his back.

Khaled instinctively backed away as soon as he saw what it was. “Khaled,” he warned. It was all he needed to say for the boy to stay rooted on the spot. “I haven’t forgotten about you running around and getting an STD,” he explained as he wrapped the cock cage around Khaled’s privates. “And I’m still mad about it. But maybe I will let you out once we’re both all better.” He padlocked it in place and held the small caged appendage in his hand. “Or once I put that dumpster lover of yours under, like the horndog he is. Whichever comes sooner.” He marveled at how it was but a microcosm of Khaled’s greater captivity. As he craned his gaze upwards, he saw Khaled pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look –I’m doing this for your own good!” The boy smoothed his frown back into a neutral expression of apathy as he hid his eyes behind his lashes.

“That’s more like it. Now, can you change into your pajamas and wait in the living room until Master is done in here?” He measured out his words slowly and carefully, explaining it as if Khaled was a child again. Another quiet hum answered him. “Good boy. When I’m done, we can eat, and then we’ll watch whatever you’d like.” He gestured him out with a small wave of the hand, then hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off himself.

When he got out of the shower, towel-dried himself, and changed into a fresh pair of flannel pants and a wife-beater tank top, Thomas made his way to the living room, where Khaled sat on the floor, at the foot of the couch, gazing down at the carpet with desolate eyes. He was still wrapped in the bath towel. Seeing him there brought back memories of when Khaled was younger, when he would lean against his shins and let him brush his thick black hair. The memory brought back fond feelings in Thomas’ chest. He turned around and went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush.

Once he was done brushing his slave’s hair, they ended up sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, each with a plate of reheated takeout from a new Indian restaurant Tom had wanted to try. While the boss himself ravenously devoured the bhuna ghost, Khaled kept tearing the same corner of buttered naan between his fingers while staring apathetically at the murgh cholay.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more food?” he asked again. “You hardly touched your portion.”

The boy merely shook his head.

“Come on, at least two more bites, Khaled,” he coaxed. “Give me at least two more bites before I put it away.”

Khaled cast him an empty, weary stare, not breaking eye contact as he tore off the weathered chunk of bread, dipped it into the curry, and ate exactly two more bites.

They ended up cuddling onto the couch together after dinner, a rarity in their household. Thomas man-spread on the couch and rested his arms outstretched along the back. Khaled, still wearing nothing but a damp bath towel around his shoulders, leaned against his side with his head resting on his chest. His hands curled around a steaming mug of chai, which he occasionally sipped as they watched a rerun of the AFC World Cup. Khaled didn’t cheer, or groan, or offer any commentary of any kind throughout the whole match. It was unusual for Khaled to remain this quiet and glum during a game. Thomas gently took the mug from his hands and set it on the table. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet this evening? Is it –oh, is it because of that little scare off the side of the road?” he guessed. Khaled pushed his weight up against him, just short of burrowing into the man’s side.

“I guess I scared you pretty badly, didn’t I? Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know now it wasn’t you, but I had to be sure. I promise I will never fake you out like that again.”

The young man remained silent as he leaned against his chest.

“If anything, you should be blaming that boyfriend of yours,” he continued. “I bet he never would’ve attempted that hit if he knew what I was about to do to you tonight. But, what’s done is done, and now you’ll never see him again.”

Khaled did not respond.

It took about an hour more of mind-numbing soccer footage for him to realize the boy had fallen asleep on him.

Oh. He softly smiled as he turned off the TV. He carefully got up and lowered Khaled onto the couch, disentangling the towel from his unconscious, nude form. He propped a throw pillow behind his head, then unfurled a fleece blanket and draped it over him, making sure his feet were covered and he was properly tucked in for the night. “Goodnight, Khaled,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of the boy’s parted lips. “I… love you...”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[januscorner]

Holy Ghost Stimboard

🏈⛪️✝️ 🤾‍♀️x🩸 🏉🏟️🎂

[inkwell-moodboards]

Could I get a Nibbly devotee Grace stimboard please?

Of course, here you go!

nibbly devotee Grace stimboard

⛧ with related stims

☾ rq'd by anon!

x//x//x

x//x//x

x//x//x

[dd-writes]

Piercings on either side of your cunt lips so I can loop a shoe lace through them and tie your cunt shut, just so I know you can't fuck your hole with anything and it stays tight for me

[lady-loveluck]

The devil's after both of us - Cannibal Chasitys

I READ THOSE 3 ONESHOTS IN ONE SITTING AND LOVED THEM. I recommend you read them too! There's a lot of violence tho, so be mindful of that!

Credits to @bellqmione for this amazing story! I needed to do fanart.

Some Close-ups:

[artcinemas]

i personally think that watching sita basically commit suicide in a fucking animated movie at the age of ten changed my entire perspective on gender norms, motherhood, marriage equality and the patriarchal poison that is victim blaming even amongst your own family or is just me 😭

[palaceoftears]

Something about these two scenes being in the same episode makes me feral

[pupntumble]

aphrodisiac/love potion from the POV of the person who gave the other person the drugs?

Some kid in your frat grew up close enough to the university that he still lives in his parent's house, and he's been using this gift to host shit parties every time they're out of town. Driving up the hill to his McMansion makes you bite your cheek to keep down the jealous rant you've been writing in your head for the past half hour. While you've got student loans and two roommates, he's living life easy on a trust fund. But you keep your mouth shut. Insults don't get you through the gate, flattery does. Flattery, and the various drinks stowed away in your trunk. Your major in alchemy is the only reason you're in the frat at all, getting drunk next to sorcerers with heritage bloodlines and wizard kids that buy pre-written spellbooks, all of them too sheltered to realize they're paying triple the price any of these concoctions would normally be worth.

You park sideways in the gravel driveway, walk up to the door and knock. You're let in immediately. It takes a few minutes to obtain a folding table, setting up buckets full of ice with little note cards in front of each one before shoving the bottles in haphazardly. Setup sells the show, but anything too fancy would stick out like sore thumb. You head to the swanky in-house cinema once you're done. It's where your usual group hangs out, out of the way but not far enough to seem antisocial. There's a dip in the floor right in front of the giant screen, probably meant to double as an altar or some other rich-person shit. Whatever it's used for, it makes a great spot for chitchat and drinking games, and you've got a suggestion for tonight's fun.

It doesn't take long for people to filter in. There's the crowd that always ends up here, plus a few guests, other students that got curious as to what you were doing. You recognize one of them. He's some sort of star student, a born sorcerer from what's supposed to be a warlock family. Nobody calls him an illegitimate child to his face, but it's an open secret, no matter how much he acts like he's better than everyone else. Seeing him here gives you an idea, actually. Something that might be a little more fun than you expected.

"Okay, I've got a suggestion for the next game. New spin on a classic. Everybody knows spin the bottle, everybody's played before, and everybody has clearly programed hard. So consider: We play spin the bottle, but with whatever I've got in my bag. Keep spinning until somebody refuses their dare. When they refuse, they have to chug what's in the center. And what I've got in here is about 50 percent duds, 50 percent experimental nonsense. So you better be damn sure you want to take the risk of refusing."

There's pretty much no discussion. Two people leave, but the rest are either curious or intoxicated enough to stay. You pull out the first flask, swirl it to show off the dark blue sludge inside, and set it down in the center of the circle. The game begins.

By the time four drinks have been chugged, five people have left the game. One person headed home early, two people dragged a third to one of the bedrooms upstairs, and the fifth person went to the bathroom to most likely puke up the dud they'd gotten stuck with. There's still plenty of people left, sure, but your odds have gotten better, and you're a bit impatient. You rummage around in your bag for the next concoction, pulling out a vial of green liquid that fizzes when you set it down. Nobody else here knows what it does, of course, but you do. You made all these potions. You know exactly what all of them are. A quick spin later and it lands on the bastard son from before. Some god is absolutely smiling on you tonight.

"Dare you to tell us who your real father is."

It's a low blow. Normally it'd even get you a punch to the face. But you're giving that crooked smile as you say it, playing up the shots you took earlier, making it seem more like a light tease than an outright insult. And hey, you've been supplying the fun tonight, keeping everything going, and it'd be a shame to ruin things now. You can see the anger on his face for just a second, before he decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. A quick laugh and he grabs the bottle off the floor, brings it to his lips, and looks you in the eye as he downs it. You watch as his lashes flutter right before he swallows, then let everyone else focus on his face while you glance at the obvious bulge in his shorts, at the way it twitches while his adam's apple bobs. Good boy. Just a little more preparation before you get your prize.

You pull something else out of your pack, not even bothering to look, only paying enough attention to kiss one of your friends when you're dared to. Sorcerer boy seems to be having trouble staying upright, constantly swaying in your direction, glancing away whenever he realizes he's staring. At one point you gesture to a friend across the circle, and they bump into him hard enough to send him crashing to the ground. You make up some bullshit about it probably being the potion he drank, and he doesn't protest when you offer to watch over him until it runs it's course. There's bedrooms upstairs, soundproofed so as to get him away from the noise of the party, and he could probably use some rest, right?

You only really let yourself enjoy it once the door is locked. He'd never act like this normally, clinging to your shoulders and staring up at you with pupils blown wide open. He looks at you like you've hung the moon, instead of merely dosing him with the most potent roofie you could brew in your housing center's lab. He wriggles his hips as you pull down his basketball shorts, fumbles for the condom tucked in the waist and of his boxers. He probably thought he'd fuck some wasted chick tonight and laugh it up with his friends in the morning. He won't have much of a story to tell tomorrow, though. All he'll remember is what he feels tonight, not which person fucked him until he cried. Which is what you'll be doing. You grab the condom from his hands and toss it to the side, flip him onto his stomach before pulling your bag up onto the bed with you.

He's got a truly impressive dick, bigger than you expected now that it's hard. He whines as you get one hand around it, then let's out a truly pitiful yelp as you rub some freezing cold lotion into his shaft. He goes limp almost immediately, and you let go in order to pull the chastity cage out of the zippered pocket of your bag. Before the magic in his system can get him hard again, you slip the sound of it into his slit and then connect the cage portion to the ring behind his balls. The keys for these things are usually enchanted so you can find them if you've got the cage, a security precaution that is the whole reason you buy this model in the first place. right now it's working against you, until you figure out exactly where to put the key. He opens his mouth as soon as you tug his head up and back, and you shove your fingers down his throat until he swallows. He coughs for a second, swallows again when you command it, and now you're relatively certain the key is settled inside his stomach. Good enough.

Now's the time to get him prepped. You'd use the same ice-cold lotion as before, just to toy with him, but you're horny as hell and the extra time you'll have to spend isn't worth it. You grab your nice lube, the fancy stuff that'll help relax his muscles without numbing anything. It's got the added effect of cleaning him up as you shove the rim of it into his ass and pour a good portion into his intestines. There's a reason you spend extra money on the good stuff. He let's out a little groan, probably from the pain of his cock trying to harden and the uncomfortable feeling of the lube pouring into his hole and the way it tingles as it cleans him up. If you were feeling nice, you might rim him for a bit just to get him riled up a little more, but you're hard and you've been stressed lately and he makes such a pretty picture as he struggles to push himself up.

He nearly manages, too, before you shove two fingers into his ass without warning. He collapses forwards, and from the loud moan that the mattress can't quite stifle, it seems your prep has done it's work. You spend a little more time getting the third finger in, before hiking his hips up, taking your dick out, and thrusting inside in one smooth motion. You take a second, let him get antsy, and the moment he starts to beg, you start moving again. The pace you set it punishing, fast and hard and completely uncaring for his pleasure. The potion he drank will make sure he enjoys whatever you do, and you've basically been on edge all night waiting to get your dick in him, so it's not like it matters if you're gentle. Hell, from the sounds of it, he probably prefers it this way.

You let yourself think about how he's feeling as you rock your hips. He's probably never been overpowered during sex, and he's absolutely never bottomed before. When he wakes up, all he'll remember is loving it, and he'll probably stilk be aroused while the last of the drug burns through his system. Especially because the sound in his slit will preventing him from cumming properly all night. He sounds even more into it than you'd expected, too. Like he's enjoying this beyond what you're making him feel. Maybe you'll leave him with a present. Let him wake up, unable to even get an erection, the only pleasure available being from the dildo you'll leave in his ass. Maybe he'll wake up and fuck it into himself, desperate enough that he doesn't care how he got into this situation, just wanting to feel the same way he feels right now, with you pounding his ass and gripping his hips tight.

You cum with that thought on your mind. He's babbling nonsense that peters out into a groan as he feels you spill inside him. You savor the way he clenches around you for another moment, grabbing the cheapest dildo in your bag and pushing it into him as you pull out. From the way he rocks his hips, it's absolutely pressing against his prostate, the perfect torture with his dick still locked up. You pull his boxers back up, leaving his shorts around his ankles, then slip a small mirror onto the bedside, angling it just right before you leave. Tomorrow morning you'll use the matching one in your dorm to check in on your new project, and see exactly how he reacts upon waking up.

[ofdinosanddais1]

You know what, Dirty Dudes Must Die is weirdly empowering as a CSA survivor.

[blackbloodedisabel]

[luc1ferian]

Chapter 10

Hey.

Hey Henry.

Henry Jekyll what the fuck does this mean.

What do you mean "altered"??? What did-

What did you do to yourself Henry.