#cw primarch dehumanization

[lemon-russ]

Poorly edited and written half awake and sick- the best flavor of porn ✨❤✨❤✨

Mortarion x F!Reader (Pt. 6/ 5th prequel )

Previous

The whole fic is now on Ao3!

CW: Dehumanization/ human pet, like A Lot of being a Pet, thigh fucking, fingering?, general Primarch smut

TAGS: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk @sharenadraculea @moodymisty (even though you read it already lol sorry)

Thank you @squishyowl for the dividers ✨

“Don’t be difficult, pet” Mortarion chides, “It’s just clothes, try them.”

You press your mouth into a line, staring at the slip of fabric your master held up to you. A short, flowy white dress that you couldn’t see actually covering very much of you. It looks… impractical, to say the least. Nothing like your reliable tunic and trousers.

Mortarion sighs at your continued silence. “Do you want me to force it on you?” He says, raising a white brow.

You frown, and reach up to take the fabric. You’d rather not find out how that process would go.

He lets you crawl in your cage and draw your little curtains to change. You struggle to figure out the dress, but you find no matter how much you tug and wiggle, your chest is still hanging out the top and the bottom barely falls below your ass.

“M-master?” You sheepishly ask.

“Are you done? Let me see.” He says, tugging the curtain to your cage.

You blush. “Uhm, I don’t think it’s the right size for me, master…” you squeak as the curtain pulls back.

His eyes go wide, falling down your figure. “…It fits perfectly fine, pet.” He says, voice slightly strained. “Come, out, let me… see it fully…”

You pout and crawl out, standing upright. The dress, sweet and white and ruffled around the skirt, shows off your shoulders and cleavage, while the shortness shows off your soft thighs, and you assume by the breeze, the place your thighs meet the bottom curve of your ass.

Mortarion looks… stressed? He raises a hand to his mouth, rubbing his chin and mouth as his eyes burn through you.

“T-turn around, pet.” He rasps, coughing dryly.

You do so, giving a small twirl of your skirt. You think you hear your master make a weak groan.

“It is a… little short. In the back.” He coughs out. “But that’s alright, it’s only you and I here.”

You turn back to him and tilt your head curiously. What an odd thing to specify. It was always just the two of you, for… months, it must be now. You’d long since lost track of the time with your Master.

He swallows, gaze locked on your thighs. “Since it is only I, and you are my pet, there is no worries.” He nods to himself, raking his eyes up your curves. “Since I’d never do anything untoward to my pet. Of course.”

You smile up at him. “Oh, of course, master.” You chirp. Then pause. “But it just feels like maybe this dress won’t be practical since I crawl a lot…?” You dare to press. Something about his heavy lidded gaze makes you feel a way you can’t quite place.

He grips his face again, nodding a little too quickly. “Well. Why don’t you go crawl back in your cage and, we can see.” He chokes out.

You return to all fours, and immediately hear that noise again- he definitely just groaned. You scrunch your brow and look over your shoulder at him.

Mortarion looks like he is going through the stages of grief all at once, staring daggers at your barely covered ass. You frown, is he alright? Back on your homeworld, people were covered pretty head to toe due to the ambient dust and UV risk. To be so exposed feels impractical and unprotected, but you’re not sure why your master was reacting so strongly.

“Master…?” You ask gently. His eyes flick up to your face and he grimaces like he is in pain. He shuffles his legs, taking a deep breath.

“Come here, pet.” He forces out in a strained voice. “

You crawl over to his feet obediently, smiling up at him from the floor. You tilt your head, making him flinch for some reason. He stares down at you a moment before chewing his lip and gesturing for you to spin around. You do as he asks of course. You are past nitpicking Master over what he commands you to do.

“This is a… very pretty dress on you, pet.” He rasps from behind you. You see him lower to his knees on the floor behind you from your peripheral. “It is… very clean. Innocent, in a way.”

You glance at him, raising a brow. “Innocent…?” You as

He swallows, letting out a rough sigh. “Don’t worry about it, pet. Face forward.” He scoots up behind you, hands slowly coming to caress your back. “I wish to… try something. Don' panic.”

You knit your brow, confused. Panic? Why would you-

He takes you by the waist, pulling you back to him. “such a sweet pet,” he growls in a rasp, “it's ok if I just-”

You squeak a little at the sudden grasp, Mortarion’s hands nearly circling your hips entirely. Something huge, warm and firm seats between your plush thighs. You turn to look back at your master, but a large hand grabs your hair and forces your face forward.

You blink in surprise, both at the sudden manhandling and at your body’s reaction to it. Why did that feel so nice? You don’t get time to unpack it.

“Shh, shh, it's ok pet, I'm just going to do something, don't worry.” Your master says placatingly, rolling his hips and slowly squeezing himself between your thighs. Something on him slicks his path so he moves more freely between your legs each pass.

He lets go of your hair in favor of slipping his hands under your dress, grasping a cheek of your ass in each massive hand. His thumbs push your panties out of the way, and he lets out a shuddering groan as he enjoys the view.

You glance below you, having to lean a little to get a view clear of your chest. You gasp at the sight of him. He's so large, your dress catches over his cock with every pass as it presses rhythmically against your belly. The pale pink head is slick, leaving a wet trail between your legs, staining the fabric it rubs against with moisture.

The friction of it is starting to affect you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter to get more pressure against your hidden clit. The movement elicits a long, pleased whimper from Mortarion. He bucks faster against you, leaving a stain of pre-cum along the belly of your pretty white dress.

“See, no worries, you aren't even undressed, it's nothing untoward…” he groans from clenched teeth, sounding much more like he is trying to convince himself more than anything else.

You aren't sure that's how this works.

He places a hand between your shoulder blades and forces you face down into the soft rug, which he bought you last week after you complained of aching knees from crawling on the hard floor. Thankfully it now saved your cheek, which was being smushed into it.

“M-Master-” you whimper, trying to roll your hips back on him. He uses his knees to trap yours, forcing them together tighter for him. In the back of your mind your mind, you think about what an odd bruise you’re going to have between your thighs.

“Good girl-” he growls, rumbling from his chest. “Such a sweet little pet, such a- hrg- S-soft pet-” he groans as his hips pick up speed.

You whimper, lost in the not-quite-enough stimulation from the friction, but trapped face down and ass up as Mortarion thigh fucks you faster and faster.

“Master-” you whimper again, muffled into the rug. He falters his thrusts a moment.

“Are you- hurting, pet?” He rasps dryly, forcing his hips to slow.

You try and shake your head, “N-No, I- I just-”

You catch yourself last second. You almost asked him to give you more stimulation, which is very close to making a demand of him. But… the ache of your teased clit….

He leans over your shoulder to study your face. His own was flushed (or flushed in comparison to his normal pallor), and sweat stuck hair to his forehead. His hand lifted from your back, allowing you to meet his heavy gaze.

“Do you want…” he swallowed, looking in thought. “I… I suppose it would be… bad for you to become frustrated with no outlet.”

You look at him confused. He continues, leaning back again. “I heard when pets are… frustrated in that manner, they can become stressed.”

Before you can ask what that could begin to mean, your mind is wiped blank. He slips his fingers under your panties, clumsily rubbing around you. Which is enough as far as your body is concerned.

You pant a weak whimper and roll back against his fingers, making him groan and begin rolling his hips again.

“Th-there we- go-” He wheezes, “this is… still alright… still not ruining you-” he pants, picking up his pace and circling your entrance with his fingers.

You have no idea what he’s mumbling about, whining and whimpering as you finally start reaching your edge. When you let out a gasp, legs shaking and soaking him, he growls with you.

“Good pet, good girl, that’s it-” he rasps, slipping the tip of his thick finger in you, “There we go, there we go-”

He gasps and suddenly presses your face into the rug, thrusting hard between your thighs. With a weak, gasping final moan, he presses his cock against your belly and soaks your dress with pulses of cum.

You squeak at the sudden force, then whimper at the feeling of being drenched. Covered in your master’s cum. Something in your mind snaps into place, like a missing puzzle piece.

Panting, coughing, and wheezing, Mortarion rolls you on your back. “I- I’m sorry, pet. I went too far, I don’t know what came over me-” he stops mid sentence when he sees your face.

His brow knits, his flushed, clammy face growing concerned. “…Pet…?” He says carefully.

You smile up at him, flush, happy, panting, ecstatic. You wiggle your hips, his cock still trapped between your knees, dragging a weak rasp from him.

“Master,” you trill, making him raise his head to look into your fuck-drunk face, his face a mix of shock and disbelief, flittering to deep concern when he fully processes the look in your eyes. Concern for you or himself, you can’t tell.

“Master,” you purr, “Can we go again?”

[lemon-russ]

Look. I just........ you can't judge me. What were YOU doing at the devils sacrament?

Mortarion X F!Reader (Pt. 1?)

Next (technically prequel)

CW: imprisonment, dehumanization, human pet, oral sex, general debauchery

TAGS: @moodymisty

Look I dunno if you guys signed up for this but uhhh: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

“Shhhh, there, there, pet.”

Mortarion reaches through the bars of your cage to stroke your hair. You blink away sleep from your eyes as you orient yourself in the plush prison. Master is home? You scramble out of your little bed- nothing more than a large dogs bed but layered in pillows and blankets- and eagerly press yourself to the bars.

You lean into his palm, grasping his wrist to urge his hand to your cheek and nuzzle into his massive hand.

The primarch chuckles a raspy sound out. “That's a good girl, so happy to see me…” he cooes, kneeling, with some effort and popping joints, to sit beside your prison.

“Now, were you a good pet today? Quiet? Played nicely with your toys?” He murmurs, running a calloused thumb over your lips. “I don’t want to have to make excuses again if you made noise and alerted my sons.”

You smile wide, nodding eagerly. You know better than to speak without being asked. Your master prefers you use your body over words to express your appreciation. You had been playing nice and quiet all day, drawing on your parchments and playing with the “toys” he leaves you for when he is gone for an extended time.

He smiles, the skin of his dry lips straining with cracks, unused to the expression. He withdraws his hand, and the comforting clammy cool with it. You resist clinging.

Your cage clicks open, and you temper your excitement. Mortarion is letting you out? That only ever means good things for his treasured pet. Is it bath time? Or does he want you to warm his bed? Will he finally take you out and show you off?

Your excitement must be showing on your face, because Mortarion lets out another weak chuckle before rasping out a few harsh coughs.

“There's a good pet, so eager to please. It's been a few days since you came out, hasn't it?” He says as he latches your favorite collar to your neck. A rich green, with his name emblazened in bronze. His fingers trace over your throat as he admires the band, sending shivers down your spine and rasing goosebumps on your skin.

He moves aside to let you crawl out. Your cage is large, but short. Not enough to stand in, so it is a special treat when you get to stretch your legs and spine out in your masters bedroom.

Your body protests the sudden change of position as you stretch. It feels more and more unnatural to stand like this, or even leave the safety of your plush cage. Soon you return to your hands and knees at the Primarch’s feet.

He reaches down to run a hand through your hair again, before clipping a matching leash to your neck. A tug tightens your collar, drawing a squeak of surprise from your throat.

“Are you going to be a good pet?” He asks, pulling you by the lead to the edge of the bed. He sits, pulling you forward with him.

You nod quickly, crawling across the hard metal floor to kneel between his knees.

He tugs your leash sharper. “Say it.” He rasps. His pale eyes grow heavy as he eyes you, in your proper place.

“I’ll be good.” You croak, voice thick with disuse.

He smiles again, reaching down to run a hand under your chin. He brings his face close enough that his breath tickles your cheeks.

“Good girl.”

He leans back, spreading his legs and tugging you forward again, your collar biting into the soft skin of your neck. You don’t need to be told twice, and start undoing the ties holding his loose pants up. There are still splatters of old blood and the remnants of harsh chemicals from the battlefield staining his clothes, and you assume he must have come straight to you after getting home from a fight. The idea makes you puff up a little with pride. Master came straight to you…

You tug apart the knots and look up at him for permission to continue. He answers by caressing a hand to your face, then snapping the leash with his other hand, making you yelp.

You quickly return to your task, releasing Mortarion’s half ready cock from his pants at last.

The sight of his pale flesh makes you stop and admire. Every time your master uses you, you’re still astounded by the sheer size of it. Mortarion chuckles at your wide eyed stare, brushing back hair from your flushed face.

“You like it, pet?” He croons, chest rattling with his deepening breaths.

You nod, fixated still on the rising organ. He smiles, running his hand behind your head to take a fistful of your hair. He pushes your head closer, pressing the head of his cock to your lips.

“Go on then, show me how much.” He demands softly, twitching his hips forward and parting your lips with the tip.

You happily comply, sucking what you can of him into your mouth. The salty taste hit your tongue, and the primearch’s grip on your head burrows him deeper into your throat.

His groaning is cut by a rattling cough, but when you try to stop to look up at him he pushes your head back down on his cock. His next moan is less labored, so you figure it best to keep trying to fit him in your mouth, stretching your aching jaw with his thrusts.

After what feels like an eternity focusing on relaxing your throat and jaw, a sharp snap of your leash snaps you back into the moment.

“That’s it, good girl-” he growls deeply, “swallow it little pet-” his voice hitches as he grabs your head and nearly gags you. He hooks a finger under your collar and yanks, briefly cutting off your already scarce air supply as he fills your throat.

With an airy, raspy whimper, you feel his cock start pumping down your throat. After a couple hitching bucks of his hips, he pulls you off of him by the hair, leaving you gasping and your jaw radiating with sore use.

He falls back onto the bed, wheezing and trembling, and pulls you up to him by your leash. You crawl up to him in a daze and collapse next to him, catching your breath as he tried to control his own.

Finally he lolled his head to look at you, cupping your chin to make you meet his cloudy eyes.

“Good pet.”