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[slutty-transformation-stories]

A founding quest

Elara, a young wizard with eyes that pierced the veil of secrets, roamed the dusty shelves of her small village library. Her curiosity was a ravenous beast that consumed knowledge like a dragon devoured gold. Her fingers danced over the spines of the books, feeling the ancient power that lay dormant within their pages. The village, nestled in the crook of a mountain range, was a place where whispers of magic were as common as the rustling of leaves. Yet, Elara felt stifled by the simple incantations and spells taught to her by the village elders. Her spirit craved more—the darker, more potent arcane that was said to lie hidden in the forgotten places of the world.

One sweltering afternoon, she found a book that was not like the others. Its leather was scarred and worn, as if it had borne witness to aeons of time. The title was written in a language she had never seen, but the words seemed to pulse with life under her touch. Intrigued, she opened the book and immediately felt a rush of power, a seductive whisper that promised her the keys to unlock the very fabric of reality. The pages spoke of a place, a hidden library deep in the heart of the forest, where the most powerful and dangerous artifacts lay waiting for someone daring enough to claim them.

Her heart raced as she studied the book's instructions, committing them to memory. The journey to the library would be fraught with danger, but the rewards were too tantalizing to ignore. Elara gathered her meager belongings, donned her robe, and set off into the unknown, her eyes gleaming with excitement and a hint of madness.

The forest grew denser as she ventured deeper, the trees stretching their gnarled branches towards her like skeletal hands seeking warmth. Shadows danced on the forest floor, and the air grew thick with the scent of earth and moss. It was here, amidst the whispers of the ancient trees, that she encountered Caelan. He was tall, with piercing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of the night sky. His clothes were tattered, but there was something undeniably alluring about his mysterious aura. He offered to guide her through the labyrinthine woods to the hidden library. She accepted, her pulse quickening at the thought of what lay ahead.

The journey was long and fraught with peril, but Caelan's knowledge of the forest was unmatched. He taught her to listen to the whispers of the trees and the cries of the nocturnal creatures, to navigate the shadowed paths that led to the library's entrance. It was a journey that tested her resolve, her courage, and her very essence. But Elara was not one to be deterred. She followed Caelan into the heart of the woods, her ambition burning brighter with every step.

Finally, they reached the clearing where the library stood, a monolithic structure of stone and vine that seemed to breathe with an ancient and malevolent intelligence. The very air around it hummed with arcane energy, sending a shiver down Elara's spine. She could feel the power within, a siren's call that grew louder with every step closer. Caelan, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable, whispered a final warning before he led her through the arched doorway

.

Inside, the library was a cavernous maze of shelves and dust-covered tomes that stretched into the gloom. The air was thick with the scent of ancient inks and crumbling parchment, a smell that made her head spin with excitement. Her eyes widened as she took in the sheer volume of knowledge, her heart swelling with greed for the power that lay within. Caelan, ever the enigmatic guide, pointed her to the most obscure and powerful books, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate through the very stones of the building.

Elara pored over the texts, her mind racing with the possibilities of what she could become. The spells and incantations within spoke of dominion over the very elements themselves, of the ability to bend the wills of men and gods. Her hands trembled as she touched the pages, feeling the power surge through her. It was then she discovered the ring, nestled within the pages of a book titled "The Art of Control." It was a simple band of black metal, adorned with a crimson stone that pulsed like a beating heart. The moment it slid onto her finger, she knew she had found the ultimate tool of her conquest.

With the ring on her finger, she turned to Caelan, her eyes gleaming with newfound authority. "You have served your purpose," she said coldly. "Now, you will be my servant, as will everyone else in this village." She felt the ring's power surge through her, and she watched with a thrill as Caelan's eyes glazed over, his will bending to her own. "Guide me through the rest of the library," she commanded, "and show me the true extent of your knowledge."

The transformation of the village was swift and brutal. The townspeople, once free-thinking individuals, now walked the streets in a daze, their eyes vacant, their actions dictated by Elara's will. They constructed her tower with a fervor that bordered on worship, each stone laid with a whisper of her name. The altar grew in the town square, a symbol of her power, and the source of her dark enchantments that kept the village in her thrall.

But Elara was not content with simple obedience. She craved more—the absolute submission of every person who set foot in her domain. And so, she crafted the aura of control, a spell that would snare the minds of all newcomers. The first traveler to enter the village after the spell was cast was a burly warrior, his eyes filled with suspicion and distrust. Yet, as he stepped over the invisible boundary, the aura wrapped around him like a lover's embrace, and he too became hers to command.

Elara's reign grew more depraved with each passing day. She used her newfound power to indulge in every dark desire, turning the village into a playground for her twisted whims. The townspeople, now her devoted succubi, sought to sate her insatiable hunger for lust and power. Yet, as she reveled in her newfound control, she could not help but feel the stirrings of a deeper, more primal need—the desire to expand her dominion beyond the confines of the village and into the world beyond. Her eyes turned to the horizon, and she knew that her true destiny was still out there, waiting for her to claim it.

The townspeople, once a vibrant and diverse community, had become an extension of Elara's will. They were her eyes and ears, her hands and legs, her instruments of desire and destruction. Each night, she would stand atop her tower, watching over her domain with a cold, calculating gaze. The whispers of the library had become a chorus in her mind, urging her to greater heights of power, to conquer and consume all that stood before her.

And so, with Caelan at her side—his mind forever bound to her by the cursed ring

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter- Loss of virginity, cunnilingus, blow jobs, rough oral sex, overstimulation, face slapping.- Reader's virginity leaves the chat

ꕥ Word Count- 7,422

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip. You just gotta hope your dad doesn't find out.

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“Morning, Princess.” Your dad greets you as you yawn, walking out to the kitchen, following the scent of pancakes and bacon. You smile as you see Mei is there along with Toji, but when your eyes hit him?

Pussy throbs.

Jesus christ.

He grins, then licks that scar, crossing his arms and looking ridiculously attractive in nothing but a pair of gray sweats. You can see the outline of him, see his perfect, ridiculously toned body. Everything about him makes you damn near drool, and you’re stuck there staring for a moment.

“You good, doll?” Toji drawls out those words, and you shake it off, glaring. He smirks.

“I’m fine, old man. Morning Mei, morning dad!”

“Why do I get the angry little greeting? Mean little brat.” You just shove at his stupidly hard body, coming to hug your dad then. He kisses your head, smiling.

“She’s feisty, is all.” Shiu says, and you stick your tongue out at Toji then, making him ruffle your hair.

“Angry little elf.”

“Elf, really!”

Shiu and Mei are laughing, then your Dad makes you a plate. “Thanks, Dad, ugh looks so yummy.”

You sit down, and unfortunately Toji sits next to you, and god if you can’t just smell his scent… all masculine and a little sweaty, but it’s hitting some spot in your ovaries that hurts. You throb around nothing, uncomfortable, as you try to focus, pouring syrup on your pancakes then.

“Hey, darling, I brought a bikini that should fit.” Mei says then, nibbling on a bite elegantly. She was so elegant and you’re… what, an elf? Fucking Toji.

“Oh my god, lifesaver. Thank you Mei!” She grins, tossing her silky braids back over her shoulders.

“Of course, love. I put it up in the bathroom. Your dad brought up wanting to do a beach day.” 

“That sounds fun! For sure.”

“Kiddo can’t swim though. She may get swept away.” You kick Toji under the table, and he winces, scowling. “What!”

“It’s a shallow beach mostly, she’ll be fine.” Shiu takes a bite, leaning closer to Mei then, and they seem very familiar.

Huh.

It’s kind of nice, since your mother hasn’t been around and Shiu had been so upset for so long about it.

Toji’s big fucking hand is now resting on your thigh under the table, and you hesitate, pausing forking another bite in your mouth, staring at him. He’s nibbling on a piece of bacon, smirking at you, brushing a thumb down your soft inner thigh, making you look around nervously.

His touch hits you stupidly hard, tummy clenching with desire already waving over you. It’s hidden under the tablecloth, but it feels so wrong, well more wrong than it already was. You struggle to keep any composure as he slides up more, acting so casual, leaning a little closer to you, whispering in your ear.

“So hot between them thighs, doll. All f’me?” You glare, and thank God Mei and Shiu were talking loudly, heading back into the kitchen.

“Shut up, wanna get caught?” He slides his hand up even more, until his hand cups your pussy over your shorts, and he exhales, those dark green eyes glazing over with desire.

“You want it, don’t ya?” You shake your head, so he laughs a bit, quietly, then rubs you there. You close your legs, but it doesn’t help, when he’s slid your shorts to the side and rubs you between your lips. You inhale sharply, looking at him with wide eyes, shaking your head, and he just grins.

“Stop it, Toji, the fuck...” He’s grinning wider, finding your clit and rubbing in a little circle with that calloused finger, all while you try to keep it together, growing flushed and overheated.

“So wet f’me too, mmm.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm down as you chew the mouthful of food, and you lean back, pressing your back into the chair, trying to get away from his hand.

But Toji just slides chair closer, his thumb pressing harder on your clit now, and a thick finger sliding in your soppy little cunt. Your dad and Mei are still in the kitchen, and thankfully they’re playing music, but you’re acutely aware of them, your heart racing at the risk of being caught.

Toji seems unfazed completely, amused in fact, his eyes never leaving your face as he expertly plays with you, the tension building up, making you throb around him, soaking his hand. “Toji, I’m gonna...” You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to keep your voice low, but you’re so close you can’t take it, and you have no clue how to keep quiet.

“Act all shy and innocent, like a good girl.” He whispers, his finger swirling around your clit, pressing harder when you try to pull away. “But I know you’re a little slut f’me, aren’t ya? You like it.” You shake your head, and he just chuckles softly. “Lyin little brat, just admit it. Ya want me to break that perfect pussy.”

“Shh!” You glare then, and he slides another finger, you pray no one hears your cunt literally squishing, your cunt is so slick you can’t take how good it feels, him stretching you out. Your eyes flutter shut and you tremble as you hold the cup of coffee to your lips, struggling to act composed.

“Wanna cum on this cock, don’t ya?” You just glare, but then he’s knuckles deep, and you tremble, slick wetness non stop as your walls close around his hand.

“Then go fuck me in the bathroom, all talk and won’t do it.” You hiss, and he grins, shaking his head.

“First time, nah. I’ll have you in your little bed for that. All your plushies watchin while ya try not to scream too loud.” The thoughts kill you, the anticipation, his fingers, and you’re struggling not to make any noise, as you’re closer, closer, then he’s yanked his hand, and you gasp, nearly falling off the chair.

He’s sucking on your fingers, swirling that lewd tongue around them and moaning softly, eyes shutting for a moment.

You’re done .

You can’t take it.

“You just…”

“Aw, doll, ya wanted me to get ya off? In front of your dad? What a lil slut.” You glare, standing then on trembling legs.

“I’m gonna go get ready for the beach you all!” You say loudly, and they smile, waving over at you.

“I’ll go get ready too.” You curse inwardly, glaring behind your shoulder at the annoying presence that was Toji. He’s following you up the stairs grinning, grabbing your ass and making you smack at him.

“If we’re not fucking stop, can’t handle anymore, ugh!” You hiss the words under your breath, and he’s grinning down at you, brushing back his black hair and yanking you against him in the hallway.

“Such a lil baby, can’t handle some edging?”

“No, I can’t. It hurts.”

“Aw, poor lil thing.” He pouts at you, and you glare, smacking him, then his mouth is wide open, you run then.

“Oh shit, oh shit!”

He’s shoved you in your room then, smacking you back, and you glare up at him, breathless, then you smack him again, and he moans, gripping you by the throat and pressing up. You struggle, but then you just enjoy it, enjoy him choking you, owning you, so big and strong. His teeth are bared, and he’s right against your lips, your breath hot on your lips.

“Ya fuckin gonna learn a lesson slapping me like that. Lucky you’re so pretty or I’d be really pissed. As it turns out…” He watches as your eyes glaze over, as he spins you then, releasing your throat. “Really got me hard, doll.”

“You’re a freak, ugh.” You grumble, but when he yanks your shorts down and smacks the hell out of your ass, making it sting, you’re wetter now. You bite back the urge to moan, as he’s got his hand in your hair, gripping hard as he presses your face against the wall, then he’s smacked you again, harder.

“Freak huh? Well seems like you’re drippin fuckin wet from… this.” He smacks you again, then runs the back of his fingers on your slick cunt, you whine, wiggling, you want more . “You're the freak here, aren’t ya?”

“Shut up, old man.” He smacks you again, the air stinging the whelp. “Toji, my bikini!”

“Fine. Don't fuckin try that again, damn brat.” He tilts your chin to look at him, pressing his hard body against your back.

“Just fuck me. Please.” You wiggle your ass against him, and he hisses, gripping you tight.

“I want time with you, the first time can hurt. I don't want it to be… bad for ya or anything.” You pause at that, turning and looking up at him, and you damn near melt. He's so oddly considerate? Caring? And you can feel how much he wants you.

“When will we have time though? Without…”

“Just kiss me. I… like it.” Is Toji blushing!?

You sigh and tip toe, and for a moment this strong, creepy ass of a man is vulnerable, youthful… fucking so attractive too. You run your hand along his undercut, and he exhales, kissing you then, his lips drinking in your sighs. He picks you up higher, and you're just dangling off the floor, he holds you like you're some doll.

Doll huh.

He's trembling ever so slightly as he holds you, and you pull back, surprised, at his blown out pupils. “I've never liked kissing so much. It's really… fuckin weird.”

You snort at that, sighing. “I did at least have kissing experience if nothing else.”

“Don't wanna hear about anyone kissing ya. Ever.” You blink at that, confused, then tense when you hear your dad and Mei in the hall.

“Shit.” You mutter quietly, and he just shushes you with a finger to his lips until they pass.

“Go get in that bikini doll.” He grips your ass, kissing you one more time. “I'll leave after you. Let me know the coast is clear.”

Soon you're getting in your bikini, wincing at how soaked your shorts had become. Toji was literally some tease!? And caring somewhat!?

Bum Toji, asshole Toji, hoe Toji, he… cared enough to not have your first time be rushed and shitty.

You do like him.

Fuck…

***

Mei’s bikini fit much better, dark blue and hitting mid waist, so thankfully your tits and ass weren’t hanging out. You throw on a little black cover up, grab your sunblock and shades, putting your sandals on. Your legs? Still weak and trembling from Toji’s endless fucking teasing.

You head out front, and your dad and Mei are already in the car, and when you walk out, they honk the horn, waving at you. Toji is leaning against the car, his eyes on you, and you feel his gaze like a brand on your skin, he’s just in trunks and an open black kimono top. You tremble as you look at his body, tanned skin already glistening with sweat.

You walk over, trying to play it cool and ignore him like you do, but he opens the door for you, winking. Toji opened a door, huh?

“Ready for the beach, doll?”

“Yes, let’s go!” You climb in the back of your dad’s sports car, which was tiny and had the tops down. You and Toji were shoved in the back, far too close to each other, as Toji’s legs are spread wide, his arms too, one of them right behind your head, and his strong thigh was pressed on yours.

“No Hello Kitty huh.” You stick your tongue out, and he smirks, one of his fingers brushing up under your knitted cover up, sliding up and down your spine.

“Gotta manspread, Toji?” He snorts, and your dad peeks at you in the rearview, a little serious look for a moment.

“Toji, stop manspreading, leave her some room.” Mei says, and you smile thankfully, as he grimaces, adjusting his big ass body a bit.

“She’s tiny, she don’t need much room.” They all laugh, and you just roll your eyes at him.

“I need some room, big oaf!”

“You’re mad you’re like elf size.”

“Let’s put on music, cover up the bickering.” Shiu says, amusedly, and he pops on a rock song, which Mei sings, throwing her arms up in the air. Shiu keeps peeking over at her.

“Your dad’s got it bad, huh?” Toji murmurs in your ear. You nod, leaning closer and ignoring how good Toji’s body feels, so strong and warm.

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? Like elegant.” He hums a bit at that, and his hand is on your back again, splaying the entirety of it with how big he is. You push down the thrumming desire you feel.

“She’s pretty, sure, not my type.”

“What is your type, Toji Fushiguro?” You tilt your head, looking at him behind your dark shades, which luckily cover your eyes right now. He looks down at you then, a little more serious than usual.

“Never been with my type.”

“How… is it your type then?”

“They’re not the kind of women that fuck me is all. Usually I don’t hit on women that are my type. Because it would be… serious.”

“And serious isn’t your thing, huh?”

“Not after…” He tenses, and sighs. “I had one girl I was serious about, Megumi’s mom. When she died, I dunno… just fucked around and meant nothing.” You can hear how serious this is, and you touch his hand for a moment.

“You don’t have to talk about that right now. I’m sorry.” He rubs his finger on the backs of your knuckles for a moment, then backs off.

“It’s fine kiddo.” Luckily the music is loud and the wind is in everyone’s ears, but you feel how tense he is.

“Am I your… type?” You speak quietly, and he sighs as he studies you carefully, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You’re the type I don’t hit on, yeah.”

“Then why…”

“Because you make me dumb, doll.” At that you feel your tummy clench, your pulse racing, at how he looks at you in that moment, before he eases away some, looking out the open window, as if to end the talk.

The rest of the drive to the beach is awkward, and you’re thankful when you finally arrive. The waves crash against the shore, and the smell of saltwater and sunlight fills the air, the pretty white sand is on your feet, peaceful and hot. You grab your towel and one of the coolers and start heading towards the water, thoughts raging in your mind.

Everyone gets set up, and Toji sets to making you a drink in your big pink tumbler, surprising you. Mei and Shiu are sipping their drinks and lounging under the big umbrella, Shiu is rubbing sunblock on mei and you and Toji look on with amusement, as he does a very thorough job.

“I made you vodka with that cherry stuff.” Toji gruffs, and you smile at him, taking it thankfully.

“Thank you! Yum.” You let the flavor hit your tongue, and then set it down, taking off your cover up, and feel his dark eyes lewdly glaring at your body.

“It looks pretty on you, love.” Mei says with a wink, looking at Toji with a bit of a knowing smirk. “Toji, get your jaw off the floor.”

You flush, and Shiu snorts at that, looking up at the two of you. “It’s because I’ve only seen her in Hello Kitty. Looks too grown up. Weird.”

“Uh-huh sure, old man.” You flip him off and run off with your tumbler, as Shiu and Mei seemingly joke with Toji. He yells at you.

“Sunblock, brat.”

“I’m fine!”

“You’ll burn.” You grumble, coming and handing him the sunblock then, and he rubs it in his big hands, slathering you up. “You always used to burn, don’t you remember?”

“That was forever ago. I’m not a little kid.”

“Uh-huh.” Toji keeps his strokes quick, as you’re right in front of your dad, acting every bit some caring ‘godfather’ or something, but the way he presses?

Fuck.

“There, now you’re good.” You take another sip, looking at where Mei and Shiu are lounged talking, then up to Toji’s stupidly handsome face.

“Imma dip my feet in.”

“Okay sweetie!” Shiu says with a smile, taking a sip of his beer, and Toji? Follows you. Because of course he does.

“Could you be anymore obvious?” You whisper when you’re out in the water, sitting down and letting the water lap all over your thighs. He smirks, sitting right next to you and sipping his beer.

“Obvious, huh? That I wanna rub every inch of that body?”

“Shush.” You’re blushing, sipping your drink.

“I’ll be vanilla first round. Then you’re in for it.” You look at him, jaw slack in shock at his brazen words. “That mouth wide open, wanna shove my cock in it.”

“Shut up, perv!” You glare, standing then and going more into the water, and he stands, following you. You tense when he touches your hip under the water, freaking out, eyes wide. “Toji!”

“No one can see, doll. Or would ya wanna be seen?” You scowl, smacking off his hand, but it simply grips your ass instead, and you try to bite back your moan.

“No I don’t wanna be seen by my damn dad. That would fuck your relationship up you know.”

“Yeah… I know.” He sighs, looking down at you and grabbing your face as he does, squishing your damn cheeks. “I’d ruin anything for a chance at you.”

“You make no sense! Stop.” You turn away again, and he pulls your ass against him with his free hand, facing you towards the sun, water waving around your bodies, cooling your overheaded skin.

“Saw ya and lost my shit when you opened that door. Cute as fuck in your silly pajamas.” You exhale, as his hand slides around, finding you right where you’re aching for him, moaning when he feels how hot you are. “Nipples poking out that top, perky fucking tits swaying as you walk.”

“Toji…” Your protest is weak and pathetic. His words got to you.

“Think I didn’t wanna fuck ya on your eighteenth birthday party too? Already so gorgeous it made me stupid.”

“What? No…”

“Yeah, doll, and you look at me too. Don’t you? Haven’t you always?” You let your head fall back, out in the ocean shoulders deep, goosebumps rising on your breasts, as he slides his finger under your bikini bottom.

“You think I had a crush on you?” He laughs, breath tickling your ear, you tremble at it. You all are very far out and could barely be seen, but still it scares you, that his calloused finger is circling your little clit, that your ass is pressed against him.

“I know ya did, doll. Your eyes eat me up. Looking down my body… down to my cock.” You’re so overheated you can’t breathe, his cock is hard on your back.

“You’re always wearing grey sweats, man whore.” He snorts, nibbling your ear then sliding down your puffy clit, making you cry out softly.

“Admit it, brat.”

“Yes I had a crush on you, ugh. Since I was little. Stupid.” He moans, thick finger going up and down between your soaking lips, already oversensitive, you grip his wrist and arch up and down.

“Desperate for it doll, ain’t ya? For my cock in ya. Did you want me to be your first baby?”

“Shut up.” You say it weak, a breath more than anything. His chest rumbles with laughter. “Conceited shithead.”

“That mouth… can’t wait to-” He shoves a finger in you, making you gasp in pleasure, soaking him. “Ha- shut that mouth up. Fuck ya till you don’t know shit anymore.”

“Shut up. Bet you won’t.”

“We’ll see tonight doll.” He shoves his finger up and down inside your little gummy entrance, hitting that spot, you get dizzy, legs spreading for more, then he slides his fingers out, and you turn, scowling.

“Tease, you’re a tease Toji.” He grins, sliding a hand up to grab your ass again, pushing you against him, so that you’re against his thigh, and his cock is hard against your soft tummy. You gulp.

“Could cum right now just lookin at this pretty face.” He tilts your chin up. “Think I haven’t jacked it to your pictures online?”

“You-creep-ugh!” But it turns you on?

Fuck.

“You post sexy on that Insta thing.” You roll your eyes.

“Instagram? Old man.”

“Old, huh?” You nod, and hiss when he’s shoving his thigh against you, bringing your ass on it. You can’t stop your moan, head falling back, hand desperately gripping the handle of your tumbler.

“Mmm… you’re an old pervert.”

“Am I…”

“Mmnnh. Yep.” He pushes that strong thigh up, and moans.

“You’re so hot f’me, so fuckin desperate. Begging for my cock when you’re this fucking gorgeous?”

“Toji…” You trail off, then you back off as you see Mei and Shiu are in the water, even if they were far out. “We… too much here.”

“I wanna kiss you so fuckin bad, pretty lips make me so hard.” He’s staring at you with such desire his pupils are dilated, making his eyes look black. You struggle to calm yourself, sipping your drink and backing off.

“Wanna kiss me so bad?” He glares, narrowing his eyes, then just gives you a little nod, before you both act ‘normal’ whatever that even was.

***

You just took a shower after the beach, and come down out back to see Toji grilling, and Mei Mei is snuggling on Shiu. They turn when they look at you, and clearly they’re tipsy, while Toji’s eyes slide up and down you in the little dress you’d put on, a little blue sundress.

“Staying the night, Mei?” You ask, coming up to her, and she grins.

“I may, I have drank a lot.”

“No worries! If you need anything tell me.”

“Thank you darling.” She pats your cheek, and Shiu has puppy dog eyes, you wrap an arm around him.

“You like her huh?” You whisper, and he hushes you.

“She’ll hear!” You grin.

“You’re so childish dad.” You shove at him, and he laughs, then you go walk up to Toji, for a moment touching his back then thinking better, but he tensed from just that contact, exhaling.

“You’re so good at grilling.”

“I’m a whole daddy huh.” He winks and you giggle, you can’t help it, before flushing a bit. “Can’t wait to hear you scream it doll.”

“Shh!” You pinch him now and he just grins wide down at you.

“That sundress… fuck, ma.”

“What about it?” Your arm is against his, bare, his is so hot, sweaty, fucking strong…

“Wanna shove it up and bury my face in your pussy.” You’re backing up, you can’t breathe, thinking about it, about… “You want it doll, don’t ya?”

You ignore him, busying yourself, doing anything to avoid it, to avoid the wetness trickling out of your cunt and sticking to your inner thighs. “You’re full of it, huh?”

“You’re gonna be full of this cock, doll.”

***

Mei and your dad have made some excuse to hang out in his room, as if they needed to explain themselves, and you’re cleaning up the dishes while Toji is taking a shower. You can scarcely concentrate, your mind running a million miles a minute, of the pervy asshole, your dad’s best friend, that wouldn’t stop… being sexy?

Ugh.

Suddenly, hands are on your hips, and you jump up, nearly screaming, but a hand comes to your mouth, and Toji’s against you, pressing you against the sink, hard body hot and damp from the shower still. You tense, struggling to breathe, and he eases his hand off, tilting your chin so you look at him, his inky black hair is falling over his forehead, eyes bright as they take you in.

“Shh, doll.” He whispers, sliding his arms around you, one hand lifting up your dress, sliding up to your little lacy panties, pressing up and rubbing you on them. “Fuckin hot f’me, already?”

“Shut up.” He laughs, breathy, tickling your lips, squishing your cheeks and making your lips purse.

“I need these gone.” You tense, then he’s shoved them down your legs, kicking them off your bare feet, kissing the tops of them before sliding up your leg, and your knees lock, you almost fall over as you feel his hands parting your thighs.

“T-Toji… here?” You whisper, he laughs, standing then and you turn to watch him shoving your thong in the pockets of his sweats. “Wha-?”

He’s picking you up before you can speak, and he’s got you up on the kitchen counter, cold marble making you shiver against him, spreading your thighs and shoving the material of your dress up your thighs. He looks at you hungrily, kissing sloppy up your legs, licking trails hot and sticky, and your hands go into his damp hair, hips bucking up.

“That’s it, be my lil slut, doll. Yank that hair and put me there.” You should hate that talk, but no, you love it, and you do, you shove his face against your soaked little pussy, right on the counter, when anyone could walk out and see. “Mmmh, so fuckin yummy.”

“Toji!” You whisper, crying out and shoving a hand on your face, as he’s licking up your cunt then, hungry, and looking at you with those dark forest eyes, hungry as he sucks on your clit. You’re gushing all over, and he’s slurping you up, until you’re close so fast it’s stupid, body tense.

He hums on your clit, and you start cumming, shoving his face up for more, that stubble against your lips driving you nuts, you’re grinding on him, fucking shameless, and you’re soaked now, all down his face. He’s slurping it up, moaning, big hands grabbing your ass and shoving even deeper, until his tongue is deep inside your entrance.

You’re throbbing around it, as he laps up your essence, so hungry for you it makes you even more turned on, and you’re biting back a scream, head slamming back against the cabinet with a thud. He’s relentless against you, tongue fucking you as his fingers slide in, stretching your delicate skin.

“That’s it doll, fuckin pulsing all around my fingers. Nasty lil slut f’me.” You whimper, helpless, as he leans his head up, groaning and spitting on your pussy, licking your cum off his lips and grinning, watching the saliva slip down your lips.

“Please, please…” You’re whimpering, and he laughs softly, spreading his spit all around your already soaked lips, nipping on your clit then, you jerk at it. “Please…”

“Please what, doll? Fuckin can’t hear ya.” You take a shaky breath, as he scissors you with his thick fingers, bringing you close again, the pressure hitting so hard you can’t take it.

“Fuck you Toji.” He scowls, as you glare, then he grabs you, dropping you to your knees on the floor and holding you by your throat, tight as fuck, you can barely breathe when he’s got his sweats down.

“Runnin that mouth. Let me shut it the fuck up.” Suddenly he’s shoving his thick cock in your throat, and you moan softly around it, he hisses, his other hand yanking you by your ponytail. “Lemme fuck that little throat.”

“Ngh!” You’re drooling all over his cock, as he’s choking you, you can’t even breathe.

“Remember the taps?” He whispers, you nod, tapping, then he’s fucking your throat so mean , so nasty, grunting as his tip thickens, bullying its way until you’re swallowing all of his cock.

Your feel lightheaded, just when he lets your throat go, and you try to breathe through your nose, until he holds it close, bottoming out in your throat and moaning, you wiggle, unable to breathe at all now. He’s fucking your throat quicker, harder, and you can’t even grasp his thighs to tap, nearly blacking out, gasping and crying, tapping him finally.

“Fuck, doll…” He releases you immediately, and you hold your throat, tears streaming down your face, he helps you  up, caressing your face. “You’re so fuckin gorgeous with these tears, ya know that?”

You manage to shake you head, throat killing you, trying to come to, and he frowns then.

“Too much?” You manage to shake your head, and he exhales, kissing you then, tasting himself, as you taste yourself, moaning into his mouth. He picks you up, and you cling to him eagerly. “You did so fuckin good f’me, doll.”

“I did?” He nods, moaning and kissing you deeply, the praise making you even wetter as you come to, sucking in air greedy.

“Best fuckin blow job I’ve had.” He’s carrying you then, out of the damn kitchen you all had been precariously fucking around in, and finally you’re in your room, and he’s locking it quietly, carrying you to your bed. He leans up, yanking your dress up and off you. “Perfect fuckin body.”

“Toji… you don’t have to say those things. I wanna fuck you already.” He glares, big hand on your throat again, already sore, you wriggle in his hold, eyes wide.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean, I ain’t gassin you up. Your body’s so fucking sexy to me. Every inch. Got it?” You feel tears again, this time from how he looks at you, so hungry for you, so intense. “I’ll kiss every inch of you.”

“T-Toji… mmm…” He releases your throat, kissing down your throat, and you cry out softly, hands gripping his thick shoulders. “That’s sweet?”

He laughs darkly, tickling your neck, as his hand slides between your bare thighs, rubbing up and down your glistening pussy. “Sweet, me? Ya lost too much oxygen, there, doll.”

“Shush. It is sweet… mmm!” He smacks you cunt, making it sting, and then rubs his fingers side to side on your clit.

“I’m just telling you the truth. Perfect face. Perfect tits. Curves so soft… thighs that squeeze the fuck outta me. Tight little cunt. Fuck, I even like your little feet.” You giggle at that, as he sucks on a nipple, making you even wetter on his hand.

“Thank you, Toji. I love your body too. It’s perfect.” You run your hands down his strong back, and he pauses, looking up at you, for a moment, intense.

“Course ya do, doll. Ya want that big cock don’t ya?” You nod, reaching down now, feeling him hot and hard in your hand. He groans, yanking your hand up then, pressing your wrists up with his tight grip.

“Please, Toji. I want it. Please.” You arch your ass up, and he tenses, grip tight as he kisses up between your breasts, licking a line between them.

“Ya sure you’re ready, pretty doll?” You nod, and he exhales, positioning himself at your entrance, looking at you, hair falling, you ache to brush it back. “Vanilla, remember?”

You giggle at that, shaking your head. “I don’t see Toji Fushiguro fucking vanilla. It doesn’t compute.” You lean your hips up, as he presses, teasing your soaking entrance, rubbing it up and down against your clit until you’re wriggling.

“Just the first time, doll.” He lets your wrists go, and you think wildly, just what are you doing, begging to lose your virginity from Toji? In your childhood room? And yeah, your plushies are judging you. But… “Hang on to me.”

You tentatively grip his shoulders, and he kisses you, softer than he has before, and you fall into it, fuck it feels good…

Then he thrusts inside you, so thick, hard, long… you can’t hold in your cry of pain when he breaks past that last little barrier of resistance you had. You feel like you’re burning, this insane pressure in you too much, you’re sobbing against his lips, and he groans, grabbing your face and pausing, looking down at you.

“Doll, you okay?” You manage a nod, but you can’t breathe, blinding pain when he eases back and pushes in, further how was he deeper!? He bites his lower lip, eyes shutting for a moment. “You’re too tight, fuck… relax baby.”

“Can’t… t’much.” You whisper out, and he pulls out again, shoving in again, and now it didn’t sting, but you were so full , it felt so…

“Look at me, baby.” You manage to focus on his face, tense with concentration, he slides a hand down between you both, lifting one of your legs over his arm and using the other to toy with your clit. “Focus on it for a minute… fuck you’re too tight… please fuckin loosen up.”

“I don’t know how , virgin, duh!” He grits his teeth, resting his forehead on you, breaths on your lips, and your nails dig into his arms. “Toji…”

“Focus on your clit baby. Please, fuck.” You shut your eyes, trying to focus on where he’s overstimulating your clit, and then you start to relax, as he exhales, pulling back again, then thrusting all the way in, bottoming out against your cervix. He’s so thick, stretching you, as you get wetter with his play.

It starts to feel…

“Toji! Mmm…” You lift your hips experimentally, and open your eyes to see him studying you so intently, eyes drinking you in, two fingers swirling your clit now.

“Better, doll?” You nod, and he breathes out, kissing you deeply, pushing in again, lifting your leg up more. “Perfect pussy. Perfect. Ready?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, I think?” He starts thrusting with a rhythm now, fucking into you, and it feels so good, the stretch and him hitting spots you never knew were there. You start moaning, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“Quiet doll. Can’t have company in here.” You flush at his grin, then he leans his head back, groaning softly. “F-fuckk… so fucking…”

He shoves two fingers in your mouth now,, and you eagerly suck on them, while he starts railing you now, so deep, hips snapping as he overtakes everything. He’s sweating above you, dripping from his body onto yours, getting up on his knees and yanking you down hard on his cock then, you scream around his fingers, drooling as pressure builds in your core.

“That’s it doll. Cum on daddy’s cock.” Your eyes roll back, as he realeases your mouth, slamming his against yours, pressing your thighs up high so he’s abusing your cervix, the hair above his cock grinding against your aching clit. “Say it, doll, say it.”

“Mmm.. you’re… fuck… Daddy. ” He growls, shoving deep and pressing your thighs against your breasts, and you’re cumming so hard you can’t handle, he quickly throws a hand on your mouth to cover your screams.

“Cum all over daddy’s cock, lil’ slut. Good girl.” You’re squirting wetness all around his thick cock, and his pupils are blown out in your dark little room, then he’s fucking you harder, deeper, the bed springs creaking with the force, and the headboard starts smacking on the wall.

“Ngh!” You’re drooling all over, your cunt around his cock throbbing, and he hisses at the sensation, holding the headboard now, tall and domineering with his big body on you, caressing your lips then.

“Fuckin gorgeous little girl. Keep cumming for daddy.” You nod, eagerly, as he uses the new angle to hit some spot in your walls that make you cum again, you grit your teeth not to scream. “Gorgeous when you cum on my cock. Again, doll, you can do it again.”

You feel like you’ll die, like you cant breathe, but as he keeps fucking you, you get close again, as one of his hands slides up and squeezes your breast, smacking it lightly, leaning back down over you. Every muscle in his body is bunched up, tense, as he rolls his hips and shoves that cock against your cervix, pressing against it so hard you wriggle uncontrollably.

“Toji… s’good…”

“Daddy.” He smacks your other tit now, and you hiss. “Say Daddy, fuckin brat. Do it.”

“You’re freaky-ah!”

“Am-ha-I freaky? I’m being gentle, fuckin brat.” He leans down, hands both on your face now, looking down as he pushes in deep and doesn’t move, making you fall apart under him. “Want me to choke ya again? Like a lil slut?”

“Choke me daddy .” He exhales, desire clear in his eyes, his lips parted, and he wraps that big hand on your throat again, squeezing the sides, so good as you feel your head fuzzy.

“Gonna fuck you hard, doll. Got it?” You nod, against his grip, then he starts fucking you mean, thrusts smacking loud in the room, and your cunt is so wet. “Hear that lil cunt, squelching? Fuckin slutty cunt.”

“Unh…” You’re gasping, as you see glitter and stars, as Toji wrecks the pussy he’d just taken for the first time, merciless, and you’re cumming again.

“Can’t help yourself, cumming all over Daddy’s cock? You fuckin love this, perfect slit f’me.” You eat up his nasty words, as your vision gets blurred, and you’re cumming all over him. “Fuck… doll .”

He pauses, easing his grip, your cunt gushes wetness everywhere, down your thighs, down his stomach, and you can hear how wet you are, as he fucks easier and easier in your little pussy. He slows some, grabbing you everywhere, your waist, your hips, your face, until he’s laying on you, his weight so heavy, hot hard body on your soft one.

“Fuckin in love with this pussy.” He whispers, and you tremble, tears of pain and pleasure in your eyes when he pulls you on his cock. “I’m never lettin it go.”

“Toji…” He smacks you lightly, and you moan, arching your back. “Daddy…”

“Good girl.” He’s kissing you, rolling thrusts hitting that spot over and over, so wet you’re slippery now. “Perfect little slut. Perfect little pussy.” He pauses, exhaling and then glaring down at you, gripping you bruising, his cock twitching in you. “Fuck.. Imma cum. Where…”

“Um, on me? I… dunno… where…” He smiles a bit, slowing more, a little gentle almost, so different than what he’d been doing.

“Kiss me, doll.” You’re surprised, blinking, but your wrap your arms around his neck, tongue sliding into his mouth, as he grips you tight, rhythm jerky now. “Cum one more time f’me, like a good girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You are unironically calling him that. It’s hot too?

Fuck.

You cum one last time, and he’s groaning quietly, brows drawn together, and he pulls back then, you feel him jerking his cock, and sticky white ropes paint your overheated skin. He keeps cumming too, all over your soft tummy, your ribs, between your breasts, and he’s kissing you now, oddly affectionate, you fall into his kisses, sighing into his lips.

“That pussy? I’ve never fucked anything close to it.” You tremble at his words, eyes mirroring your desire.

“Really? But… you’ve fucked a lot yeah?”

He licks his scar, smirking then. “Yeah, fucked a lot. Never felt anything like ya cummin on my cock. Gets so tight…” He eases back, looking down your body, then he pauses a bit. “I go too rough doll?”

“No, when you started going harder I was ready. Just at first…” You look down too, shoving your thighs closed, blushing furiously. “Oh… I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what, it’s natural.” He brushes your hair back softly. “Let me run to the bathroom, I’ll clean ya up.”

You just nod, laying your head back and the room is nearly spinning, as you stare up at your ceiling, still adorned with those glow and the dark stars from middle school. You try to calm your breathing down, as your cunt is aching, burning… and you struggle not to get that blood between your thighs on your bed.

He’s back quickly, shutting the door silently, and he wipes you between your thighs with a washcloth, as your legs close in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me doll.” You have no choice, he’s got one hand on your face, forcing you too. “It’s just the first time. Don’t be embarrassed with me.”

You nod a bit, as he finishes cleaning you up, then cleans your tummy and waist carefully, kissing down where he does. He’s then back between your thighs, and you hiss as his tongue flicks up your slit again.

“Toji… what…”

“I hurt her a bit. Apologizing.” You giggle then, shaking your head, brushing his inky black hair back.

“You don’t have to. I liked it. A lot.”

He peeks up at you, planting a loud kiss on your pussy. “Let me and her talk, I wasn’t inviting you to our conversation.”

You roll your eyes with another laugh, that turns into a gasp, as he spreads your thighs, licking your sore lips, your swollen clit. “Toji… don’t have to…”

“I don’t have to do shit doll. Want to.” He’s watching you as he licks you, pressing on your tummy then, flicking his tongue so fast on your clit you can’t stand it. “Let me taste you on my mouth all night, doll, fuckin taste like candy ma.”

“Fuck you’re hot… damn it… Toji can’t cum again, t’much! Mmm!” He’s relentless with oddly gently flicks, hands cupping your breasts as he’s lapping you up, twisting your nipples an dpinching them. Your legs shake, and you grip your blankets in tight fists.

“One more time f’me. Got me drunk on this fuckin pussy, doll, don’t ya?” You have no clue what he really means, but when he moans on your clit, you do cum again, and he drinks you up. No other word, you hear him sucking it all up, leaving you weak, exhausted.

He kisses up your body, god you’re not even functioning anymore, until he’s caressing your face, not squeezing it like usual.

“Did it hurt, baby?” He’s oddly caring as he asks.

“Only at the start, then it was… good.” He laughs as he watches you turn bright pink. “It was better than good. Fucking amazing?”

“Good, I didn’t want it to hurt but…”

“You’re huge.”

“You’re tiny.”

You both say it at the same time, then you’re flushed again, as he runs a thumb down your lip, popping it between them for a moment.

“Don’t want you to regret it.” You blink back tears, shaking your head, cupping his face then, thumb running down his scar.

“No, Toji, not at all. I’m glad it was you. As stupid, wreckless, outright wrong as it all is, it felt really right.”

He gulps, kissing you again. “Makin me stupid with that cunt.”

“You make me stupid.”

“Yeah?” You nod, and then he sighs, looking at the clock. “Wish I could sleep next to…”

You both pause at that. You look up at him curiously.

“It’s just fun, yeah?” You ask softly, and he nods.

“Yeah, just fun. Teaching ya how to be a lil slut f’me.” You nod, but then when he kisses you again… “Wanna sleep with ya so I can fuck ya in your sleep.”

“Uh-huh, bet you do.” You tease him, and could swear you see his face redden just a bit, but it’s dark, right?

“Rest up doll, not going easy on ya again.” Your eyes widen.

“Easy on me!?”

“Yeah, not happening again.” He pops a kiss on your forehead, contradicting his words. “Gonna rail that perfect cunt so hard, wreck it for anyone.”

“Toji what the…”

He kisses you deeply, tongue sweeping your mouth, swirling around your tongue. “Love these pretty lips.”

“Toji…”

“Gotta go.” He leaves you, but he covers you first with a blanket, glaring as you look at him. “It’s cold in here.”

He turns and pulls up his sweats, carefully heading to your door. “Hey… Toji?” You whisper, and he turns, his usually cocky face disoriented. You pull your blanket up a  bit and sit. “Good… Night.” You can’t figure out what you wanted to say. Your brain is fried by his cock.

“Night, doll.” He heads out, and you suddenly feel alone, in your little room, and you still feel him, taste him, smell him, all over you.

Toji Fushiguro just took your virginity.

And next time he’s not going easy on you.

Your mind races because…

Maybe he has ruined you already.

Chapter 5

Ch on A03:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/146903041

[redlittlefoxari]

Astarion Epilogue An Adventure in Making Life: Chapter Ten: Little White Dress

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, blood, violence, sex, blood drinking, pregnancy.

Summary: All hell breaks lose as Tav and Astarion share with the rest of the party that you are expecting.

~~~~This Chapter contains Smut~~~~

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Twelve weeks pregnant

“I knew it! I knew something was up with the two of you!” Shadowheart was practically out of her seat as she spoke. “I just didn’t know it was his. I thought the two of you just got a segregate or something.” 

“We're going to be an aunt and Uncle Wyll, isn’t it amazing!” Karlach released the hold she had on herself and let her excitement spring free. Shaking Wyll like he was a rag doll. 

“Yes, that is amazing, Karlach dear, but could you stop shaking me? I fear I’m going to be sick.” At his words, Karlach stopped shaking him, and he placed one hand on the table and one on his stomach to try and stop the room from spinning. 

“That…That’s amazing, you two.” Gale looked positively shocked. “I just have a few questions, if you don’t mind.” The others nodded in unison. 

After what seemed like hours of being questioned by your friends, the food was finally served. Gale had spared no expense for the meal, crafting each dish so that everyone had what they wanted and what they would enjoy the most. You sliced into a relatively rare steak and watched as the red blood covered your plate, causing you to salivate. Your pregnancy cravings had two settings, sweet and bloody; there was no in-between. 

When you took a rather large bite, Gale started to ask more questions. He was always searching for knowledge, and the topic of vampire children was something that was yet to be covered majorly. It felt like he was entirely too interested and asking far too many questions so he could publish a book on the topic and be credited as the one who found out how it was done. 

“Tell me again, how exactly did you manage this astounding feat?” Gale had a large glass of red wine beside him and began slicing into his own dinner that you had no doubt paired nicely with his steak. 

“When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they…” Astarion spoke for you while your mouth was full of meat and blood. 

“Asatrion, I know how sex works. What I want to know is how her fey blood allowed your seed to impregnate her.” Gale looked at Astarion, not too pleased to be getting a talking to about the birds and the bees. 

“We don’t know, maybe since he’s also technically still a high elf, my ovaries allowed it.”  You said after you swallowed your mouth full of steak. “What we do know is I’m pregnant, it's his, and I’m a walking miracle.” 

“I can see why you kept this a secret. There’s no telling what would happen if people found out what you were carrying.”Glae took a small bite of his food. 

“What do you mean?” You placed your knife and fork on your plate. 

“I only mean that vampires aren’t people's cup of tea usually. And there's a reason why there is not a lot of knowledge about half vampire half humanoid children….” Gale hesitated, not wanting to go on.

“And why is that?” Astarion stared at Gale, a challenge in them. 

“They’re hailed as being unholy abominations and killed…” Gale looked down at his plate, not wanting to meet yours or Astarion’s eyes. 

“We won’t let that happen! Aunty K and Uncle Wyll will not let that happen.” Karlach slammed her fist on the table. 

“No, we will not.” Wyll echoed his wife's sentiment. “We will just have to keep the fact that they are Half-vampires a secret. How is it that people normally find out the parentage?” 

“Other vampires, usually it’s almost as if they can smell it.” They all looked at Astarion. 

“We can. There’s a particular odor that goes with the undead. I hide mine because I can’t stand the smell.” Astarion looked at you, noting the color that had drained from your face. “We can do the same for our child, dear.” 

You reached for Astarion’s hand under the table, and he did the same. This opened up a whole new fear. Maybe if you moved out of the city, that would lessen your chances of being discovered. Though, as far as you knew, the last vampire to grace the city was Cazador, and since then, it had just been Astarion these last fifty years. He never mentioned smelling another vampire. 

“There hasn’t been another vampire in Baldur’s gate since Cazador… right?” You looked at Astarion. 

“No, I don’t know why usually there is always a vampire lord in a large city. Maybe they are afraid after what happened to the last one.” You saw his eyes glaze over, going a thousand realms away, and squeezed slightly. He returned the squeeze, gently glancing at you sideways and sending you a small smile. 

“What about the rest of the population?” Shadowheart spoke up. “Are they going to be a threat?”

“Astarion walks around, and normal people can’t tell he’s a vampire… Well, unless they look at his teeth.” Gale said as he tilted his head.

Astarion flashed him his best shit-eating grin.”It took you all days before you realized, and it was only because this one woke up and caught me.” He gestured towards you.

“Then we should be fine. They probably won’t have long fangs like Astarion, and we’ll teach them not to go around biting people unless they deserve it.” You picked up your glass of blood and blueberry juice and took a long swallow. The blood and juice mixture coating your tongue and filled your belly.

“I should have known you weren’t drinking wine this whole time.” Shadowheart picked up her own glass. “I can smell the blood from here.” 

“Yeah, all the signs were there, but at the time, none of you knew Astarion had it in him to knock me up.” You smiled at Astarion as he glared at you. 

“I was always more than capable. I just didn’t know I could, and if I did, I would have been trying a lot harder to do so all these years.”  He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed the ring that he had placed on your finger earlier that day. 

You felt your face grow hot as you thought about all the ways he would prove that to be true. Every night, a different position, and every night, you would scream his name in ecstasy. Astarion could sense your arousal and mouthed one word in response. Later. 

“You two are disgusting.” Shadowheart took a long drink of her wine.

“And you’re just jealous you don’t have someone to make love to.” Astarion’s eyes didn’t break from yours. “This child will be loved and protected. I can promise you that no one will harm them or you for as long as I still draw breath.”

“Fuck.” You cursed as his decoration of love and devotion to you and your child only stoked the fire growing in you more.

The others looked away, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but where they were now. 

“If the two of you are going to…. I gave you a private room for a reason… Please use it.” Gale pushed his plate away. 

“Oh, we’ve already broken in the room, Gale.” Astarion stood up slowly. “One thing you can write about if you are going to publish a book about vampire humanoid babies is that the hormones the mate gives off are simply irresistible.” 

“Don’t call me your mate; that's creepy and weird.” You stood along with him. “We’re not animals.” 

“No but we Certainly act like we are in heat.” 

Astarion extended his hand to you, and taking it, he led you towards the stairs. You twisted your fingers in with his, creating a weave that even Mystra couldn’t untangle. The hormones racing through you felt as if someone had placed a lust curse on you. Every inch of you buzzed with the need to have Astarion touch you, taste you and have him fill you. 

“See you all in the morning. Don’t wait up.” Astarion said as he moved up the stairs towards your room. 

You and Astarion made your way toward the room that neither one of you would be leaving the rest of the night. Reaching the stairs, you slowly made your accent, the wetness between your legs growing slicker as you thought about everything you wanted him to do to you. Astarion looked at you sidelong, and you saw that he was doing the same. You peered down to see his length straining against his pants. 

“Don’t you wish you could not wear pants to Astarion?” You turned your focus back to traversing the stairs, your legs growing weak from your thoughts. 

“I’m not sure the others would have liked me coming down for dinner in nothing but what the gods gave me.” He said as you made it to the top of the stairs just down the hall from your room. 

“Probably not.” You turned the corner, now entirely out of sight from the others. “But maybe n…”

You were cut off as Astarion pinned you against the wall, his body flush against yours. his erection pushing into you. You moaned as his lips collided with yours, and his tongue entered your mouth. doing a full sweep of the area before pulling out and biting your lower lip. He let go and looked at you hungrily.

“Gods, you smell delicious, my love.” His teeth moved down to your neck but paused just short of taking a bite. “And you tasted divine earlier.”

You could feel his fangs on your neck just above your skin, primed and ready to sink in if only you asked. You turned your head to the side to give him a better angle. He still hesitated. His hot breath came out in short bursts on your neck, and you could sense his animalistic need to feed. 

“Is it because you bit me earlier? Is that why you won’t bite me now.” You pulled back, no longer feeling his teeth or breath on your neck. Placing your hand on the side of his face, you forced him to look at you. His eyes were dilated. “What if I feed from you first?” 

“That would work.” He turned his neck towards you, giving you the left side of his neck. The one you bit a few weeks prior. 

“Not out here.” You grabbed his hand once again and led him to your room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. 

Astarion stood in the middle of the room, looking at you in anticipation. You stared back at him, not knowing what to do. The last time, it was rough and full of need. This time, you wanted it to be a little different. 

You pulled off your dress, exposing your body to him, not breaking eye contact, but for the split moment, the gown went over your eyes. Astarion drank you in, looking up and down as he took in your naked form. He moved to touch you, and you put your hand up. 

“You too, Astarion. Get naked.”

Astarion gave you a cheeky smile as he pulled off his doublet, then his shirt, boots, and then his pants, making sure that they would be last. His length sprang free, and you felt yourself grow even hotter as you drank in his form. He did an added spin for good measure, letting you see all of him. 

“If our child has half of both our good looks, then they’re going to have an easy life.”Astarion’s fingers shook as he spoke. He longed to touch you but waited for you all the same. 

“Sit down on the bed, Astarion.” He did as you asked. 

You walked over and sat on his lap, your button sitting between his legs so that both your legs were hanging over his right leg. You kissed just under his left jawline, and you felt his length stiffen more as it sat against your leg. You trailed light kisses down to his neck just by his jugular, paying extra attention to that area. 

“Are you teasing me, or have you lost your nerve to bite me?” Astarion sounded out of breath. 

“Patients Astarion.” You placed your teeth on his skin like had done to you earlier when he was fighting his instincts to bite you. “Good things come to those who wait.”

At that, you sunk your teeth in, breaking the skin and feeling his hot blood enter your mouth. He flung his head back and moaned as your tongue probed and sucked the holes you made in his skin. You sucked until you couldn’t taste his blood anymore on your tongue, pulling away from his skin with a pop.

Astarion moved his head to look at you. This was only the second time you had bitten him, and from the look on his face, it would not be the last. He grabbed and twisted you so that you now laid on the bed with your legs between his and them hanging slightly off the bed. He placed a hard, needy kiss against your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth once more. 

“The taste of me on your tongue is something I want to taste every day, my love.” He broke the kiss. “And it’s time I returned the favor. 

He moved to your neck, wasting no time as he sunk his fangs into your skin. You gasped, Since being pregnant, this is one thing that you missed the most. The feeling of his fangs in you as he sucked blood from your veins was simply erotic, and you could see why there were so many erotic novels about vampires. 

You reached your hand down to find his hard length, taking it in your hand and pumping it slowly. Astarion moaned into your neck as he sucked more of your blood out and into him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and used your hand to place him at your entrance. Arching your hips slightly, he slid into you, and Astarion gasped, pulling away from your neck. 

“Don’t stop.” You said as you angled your neck to give him a better angle. “Feed and Fuck Astarion.”

“Gods, I love you.” 

Astarion’s fangs sunk back into your neck and, as he did, started a slow, lazy thrust of his hips in and out of you. The feeling of his fangs in you, taking your blood, and the feeling of his length taking his pleasure sent you close to the edge. You moaned his name as his slow, lazy thrusts turned into harder, needier thrusts. 

He pulled his fangs from your neck, not waiting to drink too much, just taking as much as you took from him. Astarion hooked his hands under your knees, allowing you to rest them as he thrusted into you harder. Pulling almost entirely out before slamming back into you. You moved your hand to your now swollen and sensitive clit, rubbing circles and allowing your climax to grow faster. 

You looked at the holes you made in his neck and thought about the hole in yours that would match the thought pushing you over the edge of your climax. As you moaned, his name Astarion soon followed after the mix of you tightening around him and his name on your lips being too much for him to contain himself. You felt him fill you fully as he still thrusted his length inside you, milking his own orgasm to completion. 

“We should definitely get into the practice of trying to make children,” Astarion said as he leaned down to kiss you. “I have never seen you so aroused.” 

He placed a hard kiss on your lips. “I agree; how many do you want? three ? four?Though it took us fifty years to conceive this one.”

This child was a miracle in itself; truth be told, you weren’t sure Astarion and yourself could handle more than one child. Let alone this one. 

“True.“ He was grinning ear to ear. “But we can sure try.”

[chloessleepystories]

A Year with Santa Claus

How many references can you find to favorite holiday stories?

I was lying on the couch in the living room Christmas Eve, laptop on my tummy, all the lights out except the lights from the tree. It was pretty. It was peaceful. It was boring.

But at least it was quiet – my younger siblings were nestled all snug in their beds, while mama in her kerchief and dad in his saggy tightie-whities were settled in for their long winter’s siesta after six glasses of cheap Walgreens wine. I was browsing dirty hypno Tumblr on my laptop and getting progressively hornier, so I shucked off my sweatpants and started stroking.

When suddenly I heard a jingling and a twinkling on the roof, as of the prancing and pawing of little hooves. And then, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a shower of soot on the floor, and the fireplace full of Santa Claus himself.

My long pale bare legs splayed, my sweatshirt hoisted up over one small teenage boob, and my sticky fingers covering my crotch, I must have been a sight. But all I said was: “I’m not cleaning that up.”

I guess it takes a lot to surprise Santa. His mouth hung open for a minute or two, but he quickly recovered – dropping his sack of toys and fumbling with his big belt buckle.

“Do we have time for this?” I whispered.

“Silly child,” he said. “Time is never an issue.” He threw a handful of gold dust in the air and instantly, time seemed to stand still. The clock stopped between ticks. The sprinkles settled on my bare body, and on my face, and tingled wherever they hit. I mindlessly slid forward off the couch and onto my knees, as a wave of peace and joy warmed my mind and hardened my nipples. He pulled my sweatshirt off as I gazed up at him, completely naked, my smile spreading as he stripped off his furs.

I gotta say, I was expecting an old fat man – a right jolly old elf – but I have been MISINFORMED, y’all. Turns out Santa is big, yes, but it’s almost all muscle. And he’s a silver fox – silver hair, short silver beard … with tattoos … “NICE” on his left forearm, and “NAUGHTY” on his right. And his name isn’t actually Santa, it turns out – but Sander…

His cock was impressive, majestic, and it tasted like cinnamon. His precum was like frosting, so sweet – undoubtedly from all the cookies. I sucked and slurped as he stroked my hair, and moved gently in and out of my mouth. It felt so good to serve him, to please him … then he picked me up as if I weighed nothing, and settled my dripping cunny on the head of his cock.

“It’s so warm!” I whispered. “It’s like you’re burning me up from the inside!”

Sander grinned, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “That’s me,” he said. “I’m Mr Hundred-and-One.”

He used me like a toy, but gently and lovingly, filling me so full with every thrust. He lay me back down on the carpeting, under the tree, and I looked up at all the pretty lights, in a daze, as he pumped into me for what seemed like hours … until finally Santa came down my chimney. Again and again, he came down my chimney.

I lay there panting as he dressed all in his furs again. I wasn’t sure if I could form words. When he knelt beside me, I whimpered like a broken doll. “Do you have to go?”

He smiled, shaking his head, and took out a sprig of mistletoe from his coat pocket. He held it over me. “I’m taking you back to my workshop, my dear. I’ll fix you up there … then I’ll bring you back here …” He broke a mistletoe berry under my nose. My eyes rolled back, and in an instant I was unconscious.

The next year passed by in a blur, a candy-colored, peppermint-flavored haze of sex and sweets. (If it was only a year – but I had my doubts about that. It seemed like it was always “nearly Christmas” around Sander and his people, and it was a perpetual aura of excitement plus exhaustion.) Time ceased to have any meaning. I learned to serve the elves. I made cookies with Mrs Claus – a process she enjoyed very much. And the things I ate and drank filled me with Christmas cheer, in different ways.

Some chocolates seemed to chip away at my intelligence. Some fruitcake seemed to leave me in a drugged-out blissful stupor for hours. Sometimes I seemed sharp and alert, but the only thing I could think of were the Christmas carols playing over and over in my mind, accompanying thoughts of various sex acts.

“Try some of this,” Mrs Claus would say as we cooked and baked together in her kitchen … And I would find myself licking the sugar from her hands, then sucking on her fingers, then going down on her snatch of silver-and-gold.

“Look into my eyes,” Sander would say, and I would gaze into his eyes for a while, smelling his breath of peppermint and pipe tobacco, but somehow not hearing the words he spoke into my unresisting ears … until I would awaken with “NAUGHTY” choking my throat,  just a little bit, while “NICE” was kneading and stroking my sex.

I was his favorite toy. He loved finding new games to play with me, to make me entertain him, or the others … or to make me happy. One of his favorites was turning me into a snowman. “There must be some magic in this hat I found,” he would say, then he would plop it on my head, and I would instantly freeze. He and the Missus would play with my body, and it would respond, but I could barely feel it – I was nearly numb, and the arousal would be far away. No matter what, I couldn’t cum. My eyes would leak in my frustration, but I couldn’t move, and could barely feel, a frozen snowman … until they removed the hat. Then everything would flood back into my body at once, and I would scream and shake and almost pass out from the explosion inside every cell.

Once, Sander hypnotized me into believing I was one of the reindeer. My name was Olive … Olive the other reindeer. He took a red thread, and he tied some antlers to the top of my head, then he led me into the stables. He left me there for hours … playing all the reindeer games.

I ate sweets and I breathed magic. I learned … I grew … I changed. My ass rounded and my breasts filled out as I grew older, more womanly, no longer a teenager. The elves would use my body for hours, as if they had never seen someone as tall as me, never had access to sexual partners before … as if they needed the practice. I loved letting the elves practice on me, my holes, my tits … it was like being swarmed by sex-starved puppies, and I loved it.

But the day finally came when Sander told me he needed to send me back to the world. It was almost Christmas again … though whether it was the same Christmas I had left, or the next one, or any other Christmas, I neither knew nor cared. I wept, and Father Christmas held me close. “I will always know when you’re sleeping, and when you’re awake,” he whispered. “I’ll know if you’ve been bad or good – so be good and naughty.”

“Yes Daddy,” I nodded, sniffling.

He touched my tears, with wonder and concern. “What’s this? What’s this?”

I sniffled.

“Santa baby?” I asked. “Could I make one wish, this Christmas?”

I could, and I did. I wished not to go back to my family, but a different one. He even let me pick one out. It took some time, and some research, but it was worth it.

Then, when I was finally ready, he gave me a cup of hot cocoa. I sipped it, then felt the sugar plums and fairy music swell. “Say … what’s in that drink,” I murmured as I lost consciousness.

So … here I am. Under the tree, dressed in lingerie and a cute little Santa hat – switched “off,” ready to be turned on by love and Christmas magic when the family come downstairs in the morning.

I picked a kind looking widower named Bob, who had to raise several kids on his own. The youngest, Tim, is sickly, but has made it to age 18, and I know I can make him, and his brothers, and their father, all happy. It gives me sexual pleasure to serve… so I’ll cook, and clean, and bake the best cookies they’ve ever had – and fulfill their sexual fantasies too. Sander even left instructions and trigger words for some of the games we’ve played, and modes he’s installed. I know I can make them all very happy.

I will miss elf practice, though.

[yanverse]

i would let ilya do illegal things to my cervix, that man is so hot.

oh? :)

(cws: DDNE, gn!darling, noncon, hate sex, blood as lube, knives, impact play, choking, biting, degradation)

"Shut up, just shut up," he huffs in your ear. he says it like he's not half the problem; like the squeaking of the dense bedframe and the sloppy shluck shluck shluck shluck of his hips wetly kissing your ass isn't as noisy as you are. your plump lips swollen from hungry kisses and nips that aren't playful anymore, but possessive--they quiver between Ilya's fingers as his grip loosens somewhat, but when he forces his hand back hard over your mouth the cycle repeats all over again.

his eyes are redder than usual today. a rosy scarlet dyed to a crimson hue. they're dark and angry and they scare you but only a little bit, just a little, cause that pinprick of fear makes you clench harder around him when he bears down on you with that solemn glare. you're a pain in his ass.

so he wants to be a pain in yours.

"you're going to lick it when I'm done here," a growl rumbles through his pale throat, doused in scratches and bite marks. not from you, not today, but from the last inmate on death row who gave him more problems than satisfaction at execution. some of them can be wily, but few ever really manage to retaliate. "no teeth this time."

maybe he had his mind occupied by the stunt you'd pulled the night before. pretending to orgasm, in the hopes he wouldn't drag it out as long as usual? it was a new low for you. it pissed him off. but not quite as much as you biting his finger when he tries to grab your jaw open.

"ah-!" a gasp rips out of him, secondary only to the harsh, echoing smack of his open palm coming down on your cheek. you can barely get a squeak of breath out as his other hand clamps around your throat, which makes the sound of his next slap with a backhand ring torturously in your ears. "don't you ever pull that again!" Ilya yanks you up by the throat no more than an inch from his nose, seething. "you little shit."

still buried within you, he can no doubt feel the distant pulse of your heartbeat through his groin. it gets thicker when he sees blood, tastes it--there's beads of it bubbling at the teeth marks on his finger. Ilya sighs, groans quietly in the interim of silence. the blood smudges his lips as he sucks on the pulsing wound. something twitches inside you. when his smirk stretches wide and slow across his face, it's obvious that you're in for an even rougher time.

Ilya throws you over on your stomach, cock swollen and aching when he drags it out with a vile squelch. you can't quite see what he's doing from over your shoulder, you're so tuckered out, but you can hear it. the gradual slice of a blade across flesh, the soft hah, ah of pain as Ilya grits his teeth. the wet sliding of flesh on flesh when he brings his hand down and it's sticky, warm with fresh blood that he soaks his stiff length in before fingering into you as if he's performing some kind of demonic sacrifice. the knife clatters to the floor behind him like a ritualistic drumbeat.

"use your teeth if you want." he mutters against your ear as his lithe body slots up against your back, knees poised by your thighs for him to settle his weight down on top of you. no escape. his toned arm comes around and his bicep halts in front of your face--but the grip of his long fingers tightening in your hair is in no way comforting. it isn't a cushion, his body, but a barrier. a wall between you and escape. "you'll want more lube in a little bit anyways."

how ominous. but you couldn't be serene with the elf's dark smirk curving against your ear, and the confidence with which he presses your legs apart to slide in--because you don't get a break, and he doesn't care if you can't take it all. that's not an option for his little sex doll, despite you believing you seriously deserve any rights, which is just laughable. this is what you were made for, so you just have to shut up and take him like a good, obedient pet.

[lailoken]

"The Swedish language contains many words specific to the practice of folk magic, for which there are no precise English equivalents. These terms can be literally rendered into conventional English, but a great deal of the cultural basis of the tradition is lost by doing so. Just as African American hoodoo practitioners speak in their own culturally-mediated dialect when they use words like fixed, dressed, goofered, jinxed, and tricked, so do Swedish trolldom practitioners have a culture-specific context for words like förgjord, tyda, gnidträd, tomte, and makt. Because literal translations do not convey these magical meanings, Swedish words are retained throughout this book, resulting in an intentionally "Swede-lish" text similar to the spoken English of old-time Swedish-Americans.

• Älvaeld (elf-fire): Skin diseases and rashes said to be caused by älvor burning a person. See also Älvablåst.

• Älvablåst (wind from the elves): Skin rashes and diseases said to be caused by älvor blowing on a person. See also Älvaeld.

• Älvakvarn, älvkvarnar (elven quern, elven mills): Huge blocks of stone into which small pits have been carved. These have been in use as sacrificial spots from the Stone Age up until modern days. The most common sacrifice is a doll. The small pits are usually anointed with butter before anything is placed in them. In Sweden prior to the mid-1800s it was recorded that when times were hard and the crops failed people used to have sex on these stones and leave the semen in the pits as a sacrifice.

• Alver, alv, älvor (elf): A spiritual ancestor; also a species of small nature spirit almost identical to the fairies of the British Isles, if those were also considered to be ancestral spirits. Alver make their homes in ancient Scandinavian burial mounds. The smallest of them are amused by playing with young children and are reputed to suck their blood.

• Ångerstål (steel of regret): A murder weapon or a sharp metal tool that has accidentally broken. It is generally used to make magical tools but also occurs in spells for protection.

• Aning (hunches, suspicions): Vague feelings of spiritual distress, often associated with worry or nervousness. A tyda of the inner senses.

• Återställa (recovering, restoring): Bringing an item that has been förgjord (destroyed) back to normal. See also Bota.

• Besvärja (to speak about something): The recitation of troll formulas, also the process of conjuring spirits.

• Besvärjelseformen, maning (the incantation formula; exhortation, command, conjuration): An adjuration at the end of a troll formula.

• Bjära, bese (carrier spirit): A spirit in the form of a ball or a doll.

• Bot, bota (cure, healing or curing): The process of restoring something that has been förgjord (destroyed). See also Återställa.

• Brännvin (burnt wine): Clear, strong grain or potato vodka; it is used as a scrying medium in some forms of spådom.

• Cyprianus (Saint Cyprian book): See Svartkonstbok.

• Djävulen (the Devil): Other names for him are Den Onde, Fan, Pocker, Skam, Hin Håle, Gamle Erik, and Hornpelle.

• Döva (to deafen, to make still): A method used to render weapons harmless, to quell love, to make something numb and still.

• Drömsyner (dream visions): Dreaming true does not only refer to sleeping visions; in trolldom, daydreams or vakendrömmar (waking dreams) are also considered to be tydor of the inner senses.

• Dyfvelsträck (devil's dung): Ferula asafoetida; devil's dung is a common English name given to this foul-smelling plant.

• Fassna (stuck): A condition in which something is magically fastened to a person; usually considered a harmful situation.

• Fegljus (death light): A very small light appearing close to a person who is about to die. A tyda of the inner senses.

• Femudd, femhörning (pentagram star drawn in one stroke): A sign of protection used to bind spirits; symbol of the Virgin Mary.

• Flygrönn (flying rowan): A rowan tree that has grown in another tree and never touched ground.

• Förgjord (un-made, destroyed): Unable to function; bewitched; rendered useless due to curses, hostile trolldom, the evil eye, or spiritual attack. Restoration is via Återställa or Bota. See also Skämma.

• Förtrollad (enchanted, en-trolled): Often used as a synonym to Förgjord (destroyed), it can also mean enchanted in general.

• Fylgia (monitors): Personal guardian spirits. See also Vard.

• Gand (airborne spell): A spell cast into air and sent a great distance.

• Gast (ghost): A visible spirit of the dead; it may occur as a prefix in the names of negative conditions like gastkramad (squeezed by a ghost).

• Gnideld (rubbing fire): See Vrideld.

• Gnidträd (rubbing tree): A tree with two branches or trunks that rub against one another. Such a tree makes a squeaking sound when the wind blows, and is therefore also known as a knarrträd (creaking tree).

• Göra före (to do before): To place something in another's future.

• Hambel, hamn (one's appearance): This refers to the physical appearance as a shroud around the spirit or vålne.

• Hård (hard): The result of a spell to make oneself invulnerable.

• Håg (hag): In English, a hag is a witch who rides people or animals at night, but in trolldom, the håg of a person consists of their desire and mind. To change someone's mind is called hågvända (turning the håg).

• Hågvända (turning the håg): See Håg.

• Ingivelse (spirit-sent impulse): An impulse to act that has been sent by a person's vard or fylgia (guardian spirits) or by other benevolent spirits. As tydor of the inner senses, ingivelser can occur suddenly, without conscious thought or action.

• Jätta (threaten) - Jätta för ont (threaten for evil): To threaten with a curse, which is regarded as a method of cursing a person in itself.

• Jordfast sten (earthbound rock): A rock too large to lift from the soil.

• Kasta ut (cast out): To remove evil by throwing it out, usually at a crossroads or cemetery. Other than speaking a troll formula, the work is silent, and it is not mentioned to others until one night's sleep has passed.

• Klok, kloke (clever): Wise and intelligent; in a magical context it also means well-versed in trolldom.

• Knarrträd, knarrtall, knarrgran (creaking tree, creaking pine, creaking fir): See Gnidträd.

• Kusad (quelled): This dialect term derives from a synonym for trolldom - kuschleri - and means quelled or quenched by trolldom.

• Likfassna (corpse stuck): A negative condition in which the spirit of a dead person is afflicting a living person. See also Likkrosa.

• Likkrosa (corpse crushed): The negative condition of being held down by a spirit of the dead. See also Likfassna.

• Lövjeri (leaf-craft): The use of herbs to cure and remove evil.

• Makt (power): Might, power, and force, in a magical sense.

• Maktstjäla (to steal power) - Maktstulen (robbed of power): The act of stealing another's magical power and the condition of one whose power has been stolen. See also Modstjäla.

• Maning (exhortation): See Besvärjelseformen.

• Mara (night-gaunt): A spirit who torments people at night or in their dreams. The same root appears as "mare" in the English word nightmare.

• Mäta, mätning (measure, measuring): A category of spells using measured strings and tied knots. Magical measuring can be traced back

• Modstjäla (to steal courage) - Modstulen (robbed of courage): Stealing one's courage is a sorcerous act. The term also describes one who suffers from depression or feels low in spirits. See also Maktstjäla.

• Motskott (countershot): A counter-remedy against trollskott.

• Näcken (Nix): A naked spiritual being who resides in streams, rivers, or lakes. He is a shape-shifter and he drowns people, but he also teaches magic and music. In Scandinavia there is only one Nix, who can appear in any body of water, but among the Germans and English, there are many nixes, and the females are called nixies.

• Namnlösa fingret (the nameless finger): The ring finger on the left hand; it is believed to have a direct link to the heart and therefore to a person's power, might, courage, and håg, which reside in the heart.

• Natur (nature): A person's sexuality and capability for procreation.

• Nedsätta (to reduce, to set down) - sätta ned (to put down): The magical destruction of a person's love life or chances to get married. The term may also refer to the destruction of other areas of a person's life.

• Nisse (brownie): See Tomte.

• Ofärdsspådom (oppressive divination): The act of predicting or foretelling harmful events in the future. See Spå.

• Offring (sacrifice, offering): To cure problems through sacrifice, to appease elves, or to offer a spirit something and get something in return.

• Rå, rådare (spiritual ruler): Spirits who act as caretakers and guardians. of a place. They are named after the locations where they reside, such as skogsrå (forest rå), sjörå (lake rå), havsrå (sea rå), bergrå (mountain rå) gruvrå (mining rå), skatters rå (treasure rå), vägrå (road rå), kyrkogårdsrå (cemetery rå), and kyrkrå (church rå). See also Tomte.

• Runa, runor, runkafle (rune, runes, a stick carved with runes): The letters of the Old Norse alphabet are called runes. The same word also refers to charms written in runes or other alphabetic or non-alphabetic characters. To rune can also mean to cast a spell. See also Trollformel.

• Sänningar (sendings): This refers to things by magic or cast upon someone from a distance.

• Sedel (ticket): A slip of paper used for written runes and talismans.

• Sejd, seiðr (sorcery): Used in the Nordic sagas to signify trolldom, this obsolete word has recently been revived by adherents of Asatru.

• Signeri (signs, symbols, marks): To read or speak troll formulas aloud or silently, or to sign or mark something with the cross. The latter may be done "in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost" or silently. See also Välsigna.

• Skämma (shame, taint), skämd (having been shamed): A magical method to render someone powerless and cursed. See also Förgjord.

• Skärsel (garden riddle, flour sifter): A divinatory method using a sieve, sifter, or riddle.

• Smörjning (anointing): The use of ointments to cure and remove evil.

• Solv (string heddle eyes of a loom): There is a very old belief that the world and all the events in it were created by weavers. Therefore, string healds or heddle eyes that are cut off the heddle frame of a loom are magically dangerous because they are outside the world of the weavers. It should be noted that to cut these from the loom can be regarded as a transgressive act.

• Söm (horseshoe nail): a square iron horseshoe nail.

• Sortebog (black arts book): See Svartkonstbok.

• Spå (to predict, to foretell), spådom (divination): The art of foretelling the future, also used as a general synonym for trolldom. The word spå survives in the Scottish term spaewife, meaning a fortune-telling woman. See also Ofärdsspådom and Tyda.

• Spiritus, spertus (spirit): A spirit, often kept in a box, bottle, or pouch.

• Ställa (to stall, to stand still): The method of making a thief or anyone else stand still and be unable to move from a location. It can also be used to stop game animals from moving, when hunting.

• Stämma (to staunch, to summon, to command): This word meansvto staunch, as in staunching blood, but also to summon people or animals to a place. In the old days, the stämning was announced in the powerful trinity of bedpost, threshold, and ting or court. When someone was stämd to the ting, the messenger first read the summons by the bedpost of the person being called, then a second time at his threshold, and finally at the ting.

• Skogsfru (female forest guardian spirit): Rådare means caretaker or guardian spirit. In the case of the forests, the guardians are usually described as female and may go by names such as the Skogsfru (Forest. Lady) or Skogsrå (Rå of the forest).

• Stöpa (steeping, melting, reshaping): The method of pouring melted lead, tin, wax, or a similar melted liquid into a container of water while holding the water over a person, to cure and remove evil. Stöpa is used for divinatory purposes as well, in which case the various forms and shapes made by the coagulated material are read as signs.

• Svartebog (black book): See Svartkonstbok.

• Svartkonstbok (black arts book): A grimoire or book of sorcery. Other names for this type of book are svartebog (black book), sortebog (black book in Danish), and Cyprianus (a book attributed to Saint Cyprian, the patron saint of occultists and necromancers).

• Svärdsbrev (sword-letter): A written talisman carried on the person for protection from harm. See also Trollbrev.

• Syn (vision), synsk (a visionary): A person who has the ability to see visions (syn) is said to be a synsk or visionary. The word synsk is synonymous with clairvoyant or second-sighted, but in casual conversation, the work synsk is often used to describe those with related abilities who would be known in English as clairsentient, clairaudient, claircognizant, or just plain psychic. An inherited ability, it is a tyda of the inner senses.

• Ting (legislative assembly, court): The word ting is used in this book to describe these assemblies as they were constituted in the old days in Sweden, before Christianity arrived, circa the 9th century. The tings were often held at crossroads or where three borders crossed.These meeting places were commonly the locations of old burial sites and grave mounds. The spirits of the ancestors took part in the procedures of the ting by determining the outcome of various ordeals set before two opponents in a court proceeding.

• Tomte, nisse, gårdsrå, bol-vatte (brownie, land-spirit, house-elf, house-wight): Tomte is the title for, or position given to, a spirit who takes care of a household. The tomte is responsible for the luck in the house and the work done around the home. Originally a spirit of the dead, in modern times the tomte has been popularized as a cute kind of nature spirit. Other names for this spirit are gårdsrå (rå of a farm), nisse (brownie), or bol-vätte (land-wight).

• Torvigg (the lightning bolt of Thor): This name refers to a flint axe of the kind that was made in the Stone Age and was used for cutting and hunting. In Swedish folklore it was said that these ancient axes appeared when lightning bolts from the Norse thunder god Thor struck the ground and that they were his weapons against evil. The torvigg is highly valued in trolldom. It is used to protect oneself from harm and from sorcery and to prevent one from being overpowered by other people or spirits.

• Tránsjuka (obsessive love-sickness): This condition renders one unable to let go of a lover, either due to mental obsession or because one has been förgjord (destroyed through sorcery).

• Troll (troll, goblin, ogre): A class of ancient magical spirits, their sorcery, and the magic performed with their aid. As a prefix, it may be roughly translated as "magical" but in this book the Swedish word is retained in terms like troll-bundle, troll-letter, and troll formula.

• Trolldom (trolldom): folk magic, the Scandinavian equivalent to the folk magic of other nations, such as sorcery, hexerei, braucherei, brujeria, stregoneria, hechicería, hoodoo, conjure, witchcraft, or rootwork.

• Trollaktig (troll-like): A person who behaves as if he or she is wise or knowledgeable in trolldom; a practitioner; someone who is trollkunnig.

• Trollbrev (troll-letter): The generic name for a written talisman for any purpose. A trollbrev may be rolled up and worn in a cylinder hanging around the neck, sewn into clothes so that the symbol is facing outwards, or carried in the inner pocket of a jacket. In modern times it may be worn in a woman's bra. Sewing a trollbrev not meant for curing into your clothes is pointless unless it is for a single occasion, since the paper disintegrates during laundering. See also Svärdsbrev and Värnebrev.

• Trollformel (troll formula): A spoken spell or incantation, either rhyming or in free verse. The wording of each troll formula is kept as a closely guarded secret that is transmitted only to those who inherit an elder practitioner's power and craft. Teaching a troll formula to a student has traditionally meant that the teacher loses the power to use the formula successfully. This is still true today, although, due to the publication of so many troll formulas in books during the past hundred years, contemporary teachers never need give away the specific incantations that they themselves use; instead they can teach their students alternative versions. This is not difficult, as there are more than 50,000 collected troll formulas in Swedish folklore archives alone, and many thousands more in the archives of Norway, Denmark, and the Swedish-speaking part of Finland. The word runa (rune), meaning a written spell, may be used as a synonym for trollformel.

• Trollhare (troll hare): A hare-spirit that is used to draw material goods to a specific place or to steal milk or butter. See also Trollkatt.

• Trollkatt (troll cat): A cat-spirit that is used to draw material goods to a specific place or to steal milk or butter. See also Trollhare.

• Trollknyte (troll bundle): A magical bundle wrapped in cloth and tied shut; knyte is cognate to the English word knotted. See also Trollpåse.

• Trollkunnig (troll-skilled): A person who is skilled in magic; one who is knowledgeable, well-versed, or cunning in trolldom.

• Trollpåse (troll pouch, troll bag): A small pouch made of cloth or chamois skin in which magical articles are contained. See also Trollknyte.

• Trollskott (troll shot): A magical shot to cause harm. It can be done by humans, various spirits, or even forces of nature.

• Tyda, tydor (omen, meanings): Magical indications, decipherments, readings, interpretations, or visions. The word is cognate to the English tidings, meaning messages. Tydor are messages from the world of spirit.

• Utesittning, utiseita (sitting outside): A vision-quest to awaken trolls.

• Våd-eld (accidental fire): A fire resulting from human carelessness.

• Vålne, vålnad (wraith): The spiritual part of a person that survives the death of the physical body.

• Välsigna (signs or marks for well-being): Blessings. See also Signeri.

• Vard (ward): Personal guardian spirit.

• Värnebrev (shielding letter, guardian letter): A written talisman used to protect the wearer from harm. See also Trollbrev.

• Varsel (warning spirits), varsla (forewarning): Tydor that predict evil or tell of evil at another location are called varsel. A dying person's vard or vålnad may carry the forewarning or a tomte may tell of it.

• Vättar (gnomes): An old word meaning spirits in general or spirits who reside in and are a part of nature and the elements.

• Vigt silver (dedicated silver): A piece of jewelry or a coin that has been worn at a wedding.

• Vite (penalty) - Vita (trolldom): Vite, a court-ordered punishment, gave rise to the words vita (a term describing trolldom as a way to magically mete out justice) and han vitar (he casts a justified curse).

• Vrideld (twisted fire): Fire-drilling with a twisting motion. A wooden pole is held horizontally against a vertical wooden surface such as a door, and twisted until the heat of friction produces fire. This fire is used to drive off evil spirits and to remove curses and the evil eye. Also called Gnideld.

• Wittenberg: A German town in which Scandinavian priests studied theology. It is associated with magic, the Jewish kabbalah, and folkloric legends connected to trolldom, magical words, and black arts books."

—

Trolldom:

Spells and Methods of the Norse Folk Magic Tradition

'GLOSSARY

by Johannes Gårdbäck

[sorcerous-caress]

Picture this:

An adventuring party that consists of all non-human party members. They’re all capable at their respective classes but they also often but heads with each other over the most ridiculous of things. The only thing that keeps them from falling apart really is their leader and party mediator who makes sires no goes too far. They all admire their leader but the thing that bothers them is… well they have no idea what they look like other than their general silhouette. Their leader is never seen without having their entire body covered and they alway have a mask on too.

The others have bets over what their leader is ranging from fey to changling to demigod. Someone suggested maybe human before they all laughed at that suggestion after all their leader went up against owlbears like they were nothing there was no way.

After some time, the party goes looking for their leader cause dinner was ready at their camp. They catch their leader, by a small lake, in the middle of disrobing only to reveal a human who was practically the walking definition of the word ‘PRETTY’.

The human leader goes about bathing themself without care while the rest of the party secretly watches them lather and rub over every curve of their body. The party members’ heads now all filled with images of their leader’s naked body, their human leader’s naked body.

Their leader who they have also told repeatedly in passing how much they’d love to fuck a human like they were sex doll. There was no way they could ever tell their leader that they knew. Who knows that they’d do, leave? Hell no. Better to make the leader become the team’s new secret maturbation material then have them leave.

-🦑anon

We must have been part of the same hivemind in a past life anon, this is fucking delicious.

Especially the last part. No like I adore the idea that humans are discussed amongst other races when they think no human is nearby.

Maybe they're even respectful to humans when they're in human cities and act totally normal, but on the road when it's just them with each other, they start making inappropriate comments.

The tieflings mentioning how they'd love to fuck a human stupid, it doesn't even seen that hard to do with their already small brains.

The half-orc comment on how the human race are practically just fleshlights as they are, making them even more useless and stupid would just ruin the fun of hearing them beg for more.

You, the cloaked human leader, just walk silently amidst the group as the conversation spirals.

The two elves in the back are quietly having their own hushed conversion amongst themselves. At first, you think they're not even paying attention to the conversation, but then some of their words slip louder than other and you hear bits and pieces.

How one human can never be enough, you need at least 3 or 4 to fully be satisfied. It's too sad that humans get too emotional and jealous to allow themselves to be shared like how they were meant to be. The other elf agrees and adds how important it is to train that stubbornness out of them, make them docile and submissive, a collar and some fitting clothes really do wonders in showing them their rightful place.

And those people are your team who you've been leading for a long while now, the "heros" that most human cities celebrated and sang praises about. You wonder if they always thought this way, had these conversations when out of earshot.

You attempt not to draw attention to yourself, let them talk it out. Your dwarf companion, who you've been secretly looking up to for a while, nudges you and asks why are you so quiet.

You say you're just...not used to conversations like these before.

He stops, looks at you still, then laughs.

Saying he fully understands, he too was very repressed during his stay in a human city. How such a tease these humans tend to be without being aware of it, how each time one wandered into his smith shop and curiously admired his handworks, he imagined bending them over the counter and letting them keep the forged weapon as a gift.

You just nod.

The dragonborn leans closer to you, their big arm wrapping around your covered shoulders as they whispered against your mask as if sharing a little secret.

Calling you leader, promising to take you to a very lovely pleasure house that has the most beautiful of humans. It's a spot they frequent and the humans there know how to take two or more people at the same time, they can be surprisingly flexible even with their full and slutty bodies.

The conversation trails off there as the githyanki in the party barks at them to stop bothering their leader and wasting time, that they should be on gaurd since they are travelling through the woods.

"Besides," the Githyanki says, "you can't be sure that no humans are around here"

"Relax, the closest human settlement is days away." The gnome finally speaks as they put their map away.

"And their kind is known to stray and wander far," The Githyanki replies, "I can still smell their filthy scent, it's fogging my mind and making me more agitated. How can a whole race just walk around smelling like they're begging to be bred."

You force yourself to keep walking, to not give out any hint or even a twitch.

But yeah, you get the idea, just absolutely the most filthy locker room talk. The more time the leader spends with the party, the more your companions open up about their filthy fantasies about humanity.

How tight they feel, how smooth their insides are. Both the Tiefling and dragonborn remark how they love the feeling of their soft insides against the ridges and pumps on their cocks. how the scales brush against the human insides with each move and plunge.

The drow women comments on how their men make much more fun toys than drow men, how they're so full of themselves and their big egos that she loves breaking. Riding them until their cute little penis starts hurting then making the human eat out their own cum out of her.

Maybe one high elf secretly admits to liking being dominated by humans. How they get lost in their own head a lot, humiliating the elf and holding their arms behind their back as they fuck them. How they taunt the elf for lusting after the humankind and how disappointed Corellon must be in them.

The dwarf admits that he likes to be gentle, rewarding with the cute humans and praising them. Teaching them all the ways they can please him and how to suck him off like an eager puppy. Remarking how humans tend to be the most fast of learners.

Suddenly standing up, your moving cuts the conversation around the campfire short.

You say that you're going to have a bath in the nearby lake, wishing them a nice mean and leaving immediately.

Unaware to the fact it was the githyanki's turn to scout the area around the campfire. Oblivious to how the drow guy followed after you in the shadows when no one was paying attention.

[baldurs-gape]

There was one thing Astarion knew he was good at without fail; seduction. If he needed something, anything, sex was almost always the route to it. And if it didn't work, a small murder was perhaps a little more fun. Either way, Astarion always got what he set his mind to. In the current situation he needed safety and protection. While he could very well keep himself out of trouble, it was nice to have other people do the heavy lifting for a change. They wouldn't go unrepaid though. While Astarion didn't have anything other than a rag of a blanket to call his own, his body could very well be offered in payment. Little did he know that, over time, the others learned to see through him, to understand him.

When he went to Wyll's tent, his rather blatant offers and flirting were turned into soft conversation and the odd dancing lesson hidden from view of the camp. Astarion had 200 years of dancing knowledge while Wyll had the enthusiasm if not the twinkletoes of a natural dancer.

Another night, another tent. Karlach was down for anything on offer but had a knack for turning things on their heads. Where Astarion expected to be used like a doll then tossed aside, he was instead treated to the most mindblowing sex of his rather long life. Emerging from the remains of Karlach's tent in the morning, he couldn't help but feel satisfied at the aches and pains left behind along with the tingling pleasure of a night very well spent.

If he ever approached Shadowheart, they got far too drunk to do much other than laugh at the silliness of existence. The closest they got was fingers brushing as they passed yet another bottle between them. Perhaps the highlight of such nights was laughing so hard that wine shot out of his nose which made Shadowheart laugh even more.

With Lae'zel it was a mixed bag. Some nights it was all about letting off some steam with some rather spectacular orgasms. Even though Astarion's body was simply a tool for that, he never felt used or taken advantage of. The nights where neither of them felt any real urge to get off, they went hunting. Lae'zel was one of the few people that Astarion could truly let go around, stop pretending to be anything other than what he was. It felt good to hunt alongside someone as competent and fearless as Lae'zel. Around her he had no need to hold back.

Halsin was one that Astarion almost dreaded for all the strangest of reasons. It was too nice, too kind, too thoughful. Most nights Halsin would take his bear form and Astarion could choose how lazy he was feeling. If he chose to, they'd lumber out into the wilderness side by side. However, he could also let Halsin do all the work and settle across a broad, warm back. They had their favourite clearings, far enough from camp that it was truly just the two of them. If the mood struck, Halsin would shift back to his elf form and they'd lie back, staring at the stars and tell each other stories of the constellations. Other nights Halsin would remain a bear and curl protectively around Astarion, keeping him warm and comfortable in the peaceful silence of the night.

Last but not least was Gale. He was the one who stumped Astarion the most. At first it was the point blank refusal to even touch him. Something about wanting a connection on an emotional level first. So they talked over drinks, over a meal, while holding hands then between shy kisses. By the time Astarion was on his back, having a firsthand experience of just how talented Gale's tongue was, he was at an utter loss as to what was happening. It was only when, so many more shared nights later, Gale whispered three little words in his ear that it finally made sense. And somehow Astarion was all too okay with saying them back, knowing that he actually meant them too for the first time.

[irisdolloffical]

🔞Elf from the forest

🌞Luis.F - Elf 161cm(5ft3) SE Dolls F-Cup TPE Head White Hair SE Sex Doll

[ruinedxxdoll]

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

You can call me Doll or anything you like~

Bisexual (heavy preference for women), TME genderfluid girlfag boydyke. I am simultaneously a man and a woman so if you’re very firmly only attracted to one maybe don’t interact with me. Can switch but primarily a sub. Cis people can interact but I’m primarily t4t. I use many pronouns, preferring ze/hir/hirs or rotating thru he/it/she (dependent on the scene or whoever’s fronting). I prefer for my hole to be referred to as my cunt/hole and use clit/dick interchangeably.

Also disabled, I have C-DID, autism + ADHD, BPD, hEDS, and endometriosis. Buyer beware lmao /j

⚠️All posts are fantasy ofc, we’re a guy with career ambitions and do happen to enjoy having personal autonomy more often than not. Always practice personal risk-aware informed consent and keep constant open communication with all partners, and remember that aftercare is MANDATORY

⁂ Kinks ⁂

CNC, free use, somnophilia, intox, double/triple penetration, oral, anal, petplay, objectification (specifically dollification), bimbofication/dumbification, knifeplay, cumplay, waxplay, bloodplay, gangbangs, praise & degradation, orgasm control, overstimulation, BSDM (sub and masochist ❤️‍🩹), rigging, teratophilia, corruption/hypnosis/mindbreak. Open to trying new things

⚠️ Breeding is hot but I’m not rly into pregnancy and would rather catch Every Plague than get pregnant IRL. Cum in me as much as possible please just remember this uterus has room for zero

⚠️Into fauxcest but NOT with a “Daddy” scene partner or any cg/l overlap. Mommy dommes welcome but not if you want me to act age regressed in the bedroom

❌Hard no on piss, scat, detrans, unprepped anal, organized sex trafficking fantasies, raceplay, misogyny/patriarchy, cg/l or nsfw age regression

❌‼️‼️Ableists, racists, transphobes, homophobes, and zionists DO NOT INTERACT. We are the cringe cripplepunk leftist of your nightmares and we want you dead. It should also go without saying but Actual Sex Criminals DNI and DIE

[i’ll add my OF link here later when I finally have free time to run it 💀]

Asks always welcome, and DMs are open, but I may not reply to DMs (I’m shy). I will not respond to blank blogs.

└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

More about us personally under the cut~

We’re a C-DID system and have a few alters running this blog. Our body is white, 5’9”, 108lbs, B-cup, pre-T and pre-op, brown eyes, and naturally black hair we dye semi-regularly. Transition goals include vagina-preserving phalloplasty and hrt. Our collective pronouns are ze/hir/hirs and our collective names are Ari/Doll, but feel free to address an alter directly! Outside of kink we’re finishing up an art degree and enjoy writing, drawing, reading, literary analysis, video game development, and are a big horror enthusiast.

Ariel - he/they/it, introject of our book protagonist (gothic horror WIP), elf prince, polite academic type. Primarily a sub but enjoys soft domming on occasion. Is into rough cnc/rapeplay (bottom), free use, dollification, gangbangs, intox, rigging/bondage, impact play, manhandling, knifeplay, bloodplay, royalty roleplays (prince), medical roleplays, teratophilia, fisting, praise and degradation, masochism, cnc stalking, mindbreak

B. - he/him, gothic horror WIP introject, sea monster man, dom. Is very possessive over his in-system husband (Ariel) and will mainly interact with posts pertaining to their dynamic. Is into leather, bondage, soft cnc, musk, teratophilia just by nature of being the monster in question

Honey - she/her, another gothic horror WIP introject, human, switch. Is into latex, soft cnc (switch), fauxcest, mommy dommes, royalty roleplays (princess), rigging/bondage, teacher/student roleplays, body worship, praise, breast/nippleplay, voyeurism

Puppy - pup/it/she, doggirl, sub. Is into petplay, breeding, free use, bondage, intox, cnc, exhibitionism, teratophilia, dumbification

[k--havok]

The Ghost & The Machine Snippet

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

Characters: Dragoon, Specter (mentioned) Word Count: 1655 Warnings: Mentions of torture and violence. Graphic depictions of sex. Mating/heat cycles/rutting. Rating: M Summary: Dragoon's patience wears thin as he faces his upcoming rut.

A small character-study I banged out in one sitting. First draft with no editing so pacing may be off and there may be typos. This was mainly practice so I thought I would share!

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

Dragoon grit his fangs, the tip of his segmented tail lashing back and forth as he paced through the garden.

Despite the sunny day, with fat and fluffy clouds hanging low in the sky as a light breeze ruffled the blooming flowers which surrounded him, he could not stay still.

He could feel it. Deep in his gut. No, lower than that.

His rut. Unlike the beautiful day which surrounded him, he could feel it like a storm in the air. All-encompassing. A dark shadow. The tension within him grew moment by moment, threatening to break at any time.

Snorting furiously, Dragoon tromped up the stone-carved steps into a small gazebo, plopping himself down on the wooden planks.

The stained glass overhead painted swirls of color across the wood; cool tones of blues and purples punctuated with the warmer and friendlier golds and oranges. Normally, watching the dust catch in the different colors brought a calmness to Dragoon. He would watch in rapt attention as the motes did their dance, the usual frustration he housed melting away.

But with his rut oncoming, it did not matter what he did. No amount of breathing exercises or grounding would help him here. No aromatherapy, warm bathes, or any of the other bullshit his doctors pushed on him would help.

No, there was only one thing that would stop the oncoming rut. Female, preferable, but Dragoon was not picky.

He was infertile. He knew this logically. But his body did not seem to agree with this basic fact of life. And thus, his hormones continued to brew right below. Pumping through whatever veins he had left, both biological and mechanical.

Just the mere thought of sex. No, not even the thought. The barest whisper brought heat pooling even lower, hardening him.

Another guttural growl rumbled in Dragoon’s chest. “Damn this. Damn this. DAMN this,” he chanted, a crescendoing snarl ending each statement. He dug his over-sized claws into the wood, gouging long, hard marks into it.

Although annoying at the best of times and dreadful at the worst, normally his rut would not cause Dragoon such fury. It would impede his life for the week, causing him to seek out relief in any way he could. Sometimes, he could reach out to old contacts who were willing to spend a night or two. Other times, he prowled the streets, desperate to find someone to lay with; whether he had to pay or not did not matter to him.

When all else failed, Dragoon had his own dolls within his chambers. They were not alive. Just avatars of real life. But the sex dolls were better than his own cold, clawed hand.

But this time, he was not alone with his droids. No.

Even now, although she was not present in the garden, Dragoon could scent her.

The slight tang of magic, like the faintest taste of ozone. The sharp squeeze of lemon and linen. The sweeter, lighter notes of melon.

Specter.

The strange half-elf who somehow wormed her way beneath his being, taking place where he had a heart at one point. Her closed-lips smiles when she got to try something new. The way her eyes sparkled with both surprise and joy whenever he gave her anything; even meals.

He even enjoyed the way she looked up at him, craning her neck back so she could capture the sight of his visor despite the lack of the same humanoid emotions she had. And when she realized such, her eyes would slip down the length of his suit, her gaze seeking his tail to try and figure out what he was thinking.

Always searching, that one. Curious, but holding it back. He wished she would open up more and allow all her questions to pour from her lips.

He also wanted to touch her breasts. But Dragoon supposed that was quite normal considering the situations he found himself in with her.

Normally the surge of need was one he could redirect into something else. He would pull away from it, changing his thought process to, quite literally, anything else. But right now, his mind was playing in a loop. Like a scratching record player stuck on the needle.

He could not get his mind to wander away. To stop.

He had seen Specter’s breasts before. Twice, in fact. And the image was burned into his mind. Her creamy pale skin. The dusting of several dark moles on her chest. The rosiness of her nipples.

How would they harden beneath his touch? His tongue? He would have to be gentle with her. Oh so gentle. His suit was not meant for love, but destruction.

Even with the others he hunted for during this time, he never promised to be gentle. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He always made sure to grab onto anything else besides his partners least he render their flesh into ribbons.

Dragoon could not count the amount of times he bent metal bed frames with the strength of his hands. Dug his claws into the wall so hard he found purchase on the studs.

Not to mention the sheets and bedding he had shredded.

His partners were always on their stomach. He did not want to see their expressions as they watched a monster fuck himself into oblivion. Like some sort of beast or animal.

Yet, he wondered if Specter would finally flash her flat teeth in a smile as he positioned himself inside of her as she lay on her back for him. Would her eyes sparkle, her mouth falling open in pleasure as her entire body flushed with need as he thrust into her over and over again? Would her legs hook around his hips, her body stretching out as he chased both their orgasms into infinity?

Their orgasms. Not just his. A strange distinction for Dragoon. But he yearned to know how her mouth would form his name as she came around his cock.

And her thighs. Her beautiful, thick thighs. How he ached to see them slicked with the sweat of effort, her own juices flowing out of her, and the trails of his own remains after he fills her over and over again. They would tremble around him, her body on the brink of breaking before he takes her yet again, claiming her as his.

“Fuck,” Dragoon hissed. His cock ached where it pressed up against his suit, hard as metal and throbbing with need. His knot was so sensitive it almost hurt.

Despite the many ruts Dragoon had suffered through, he had never knotted someone before. Yet, in his fantasies, he could imagine Specter staring up at him with lidded eyes, her lips wet as she ran her tongue across them, hungry for him.

Would she even fit on his knot?

Well, if you fuck her enough, she’ll be able to take it, Dragoon thought to himself wildly, reality bleeding away. Yes, he would fuck her over and over again until she was nice and prepared for him. Until she was so slick, so empty, and so needy for him she would be begging for it.

And yet, she would still have to stretch around it. Dragoon could see her arching up off the bed, grasping for him, trying to settle him deeper into her. It would not take long after that.

In his mind, there was no threat to Specter’s clear skin. He could gleefully grab her hips, dragging her closer. He could make her entire body tremble for him as he palmed her breasts, his claws toying with her hardened and sensitive nipples. He could run his long, sharp tongue across her cheek until he found her mouth, where he would slip his tongue into her, a bastardization of a kiss. He could fuck her as hard as he wanted without threatening to shatter her pelvis.

And he could empty himself inside her, keeping her on his cock and knot for hours until she could swell with his child.

Another fantasy.

Thump.

Dragoon fell back against the wooden floors of the gazebo. Countless gouges in the wood joined him. He stared up through the stained glass. A cloud had passed over the sun, briefly blotting it out, darkening the vibrant colors which surrounded him.

Yes. He would fuck her over and over again. Keep her in his bed. She would only leave to relieve herself and when he would bathe her. At all other times, she would either be asleep beneath the sheets or filled with his knot.

He would never let anything happen to her. She would be his. His mate.

Dragoon jerked up, his suit creaking at how fast he moved. He shook his heavy head back and forth, trying to dislodge the wild and beastly thoughts.

His mate? As if she would ever yearn for something like that. It was… disgusting. Animalistic. Inhuman. Not to mention the image of having her chained to his bed, nude, and begging for him.

Ridiculous. She was not some sort of slave. He would never do that to her. Not her. Not Specter. And she would never want such a life.

She would not want to spend any time in his bed. He tried to kill her. Tortured her. Kept her against her will.

Even now, Dragoon was not sure he could let her go, even if she asked.

She was his. And no amount of scolding himself, of snarling, and growling, could stop that damning word from racing through his mind.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

No. He could never lay with her. Already, he could barely tolerate the thought of letting her go. If he knotted her. If he spent his rut with her--

Well.

Dragoon never said he was a good man. Nor a man at all. He was a monster. A beast. An animal.

He just hoped Specter would never learn that side of him.

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[trans-xianxian]

things I never thought I'd see but saw tonight at the lord of the rings drag and burlesque show nonetheless:

someone in a 40 inch blonde wig and elf ears dancing to they're taking the hobbits to isengard in a packer w their tits all the way out

person dressed as treebeard (covered in moss) simulating oral sex with tiny dolls of merry and pippin to "timber" by kesha and pitbull

samwise gamgee burlesque

[a-thirst-for-dunmer]

may have just found the existence of Bishop the Bitchop in the modded followers section and BOY

-guy looks like if Dean Winchester went goth and decided respecting women was a fad so there’s that

-like. All the time it’s sex. ‘Nice legs’ and ‘your armor covers up the best bits’ and ‘lemme warm your bedroll for you.’ Sir, my armor is for the fucking dragons, I am married, AND you’re not an elf you’re just unseasoned bland chicken

-Yandere to the max, so fucking alpha it makes him look like he’s struggling with internalized homophobia. ‘Go fetch Papa a drink’ ‘Down, boy’ like??? Sir??? you might be a lil fruity

-when you stand up for yourself he slutshames and belittles you, god forbid I’m the Dovahkiin with 30+ dragon souls swarming inside my body. Get over here i’ll beat your ass

-not EVEN useful in combat. My mans Revyn can pull out a whole staff of paralysis when i marry him along with a dagger. (Dunno where he got it but he likes it. Good lad best boy) Bitchop uses only an iron dagger and basic bows. Kaiden, Lucien, Inigo, and gang all have unique weapons and can carry themselves in a fight. This guy is so fucking weak

-calls u a wench when vanilla marriage candidates call u dearest, love, darling

-i don’t claim this man as part of the atheist community, he’s too much of an edgelord. Plus Daedra and Aedra lore is pog fuck you

-A l l the alpha petnames, princess, babygirl, kitten probably. Guy is like a reverse Geralt

-literally calls himself a savage wolf when you ignore him. Awoo awoo furry bastard

-generic ass edgy backstory

-thinly veiled insults and misogyny passed off as jokes. Who wrote this. U good fam, you need a hug?

-dismisses your entire identity to fuckin treat you like a sex doll. B o i i have killed god’s children and you’re next

Just everything about this guy is repulsion incarnate. Perfectly convinced that this is an aspect of Namira or Molag Bal because fuck, the red flags are downright daedric. I’d rather wed Rolff Stone-Fist

[astarab1aze]

vampires

...come in all shapes, sizes, colors, creeds, etc etc. there is a clearly drawn line between them and other nightfolk genetically, but there are many vastly different ways one can be made - and who they can turn out to be, what abilities or talents they could have. it's a mixed bag between the undead and those who live but are of colder blood, and bloodlines / sires heavily influence genetics, inherited abilities, tolerable diet, general health issues, and plenty more ( for example: the morteatum family has a unique affinity toward the water element. moving water is a danger to most vampires (the psychic and energy varieties excluded) except the morteatums, as their affinity occasionally births a child capable of traveling over bodies of water safely, without bursting into flames & the power to manipulate it; a trademark of their genetic line is pale pink irises and silvery hair )

there are two types of vampires, however; blooded vampires, who are natural-born, and turned vampires, which needs no explanation. blooded vampires have a distinct advantage over the others in that they're able to call upon multiple elements in the same manner as sorcerers and wizards. turned vampires, unless already possessive such control, do not, only capable of the typical vampiric shapeshifting (wolf, bat, cat), mist step, short-distance teleportation, vampire telepathy, and so on - they inherit all the same weaknesses too ( uv light, silver, iron, sanctified objects, garlic allergies, bloodthirst, compulsive counting, etc )

they can naturally charm, bewitch, and enthrall, glamour themselves and hypnotize others into doing their bidding. they can transform into bats, cats, and wolves from birth / turning, mist through select physical barriers, fly, levitate, teleport, call upon insects, bats, wraiths, use various necrotic spells, disappear in mirrors, are immortal but not invulnerable, telepathically communicate with those they've bitten, have high resistances to necrotic and ice magic.

unfortunately for everyone, the non-monstrous sorts are incredibly beautiful. ethereal, elf-like, even fairy-like in some respects. beautiful creatures who ensnare their victims in charming webs of sex, intrigue, mystery, and indulgence before entreating them to a vicious end.

in the modern day, vampires are barred from feeding on the living, forced to find sustenance from blood donation centers exclusively. there is a schism among them in part for this reason, headed by the vampire separatist group the red hand (comprised of the morteatum, mausolea, montgomery, and morningstar families as well as other, non-familial members). anyway, blood is vitally important for them to survive and with limited or heavily restricted access to it, they are effectively starving under the u.s. department of regulatory sorceries. there is a lot of political fuckery going on among the vampire nobles; some are in positions of governmental power, beyond the drs. plenty more occupy other positions of power in sanguinarian churches, hollywood, meatpacking, medicine, and other industries. they're quite the enterprising bunch and love politics - manipulating people into doing their bidding never gets old.

they have their own language, but there are very few who know it well. only the oldest vampires such as dracula, some members of the sanguinarian clergy, and certainly the vampire nobles know it. there are a handful linguists who may happen to know some of it, but it's notoriously difficult to learn in the first place and vampires aren't too keen on having their secrets exposed.

the 600 headcanons thrown into this all deserve their own post, but bloodthirst desperately needs to be mentioned here as it is a very difficult part of being a vampire. it's an intense hunger that, if ignored for too long, results in a steady degradation of the mind and reversion to a primitive, feral, or doll-like docile state. it starts with anxiety, impulsivity, hypersexuality, compulsion, obsession, mood swings, blackouts, and random fits of desperate violence. crimson shadows in the periphery, tainting irises deep scarlet, and the sclera blackens. often, a vampire will suffer dizziness, exhaustion, panic, achy joints, temporary loss of cognitive function... the list goes on. advanced stages of bloodthirst will cause a vampire to regress into a more bestial state, morphing them into a twisted, monstrous exaggerations more commonly found in folklore. ghoulish creatures with translucent, skin and gnarled fangs, too-long fingers and a complete loss of identity, hair, sight, rationality, and more; they become no better than gangly undead rats with no fur. on top of this, they lose their resistences to all magic, physically cannot stop themselves from going into a frenzy and drinking insatiably-- it's a mess, it's a mess, and transformations as well as symptoms can change depending on the individual. in any event, they become something else, something that is vampire no longer. it's an extremely terrifying prospect and potentially a certainty for most of them.

[not-alien-girl-v]

love your work! can u write a kai anderson x reader smut with him as an elf on a shelf????

absolutely yes!!!!

warning: elf!kai, smut, lowk being attracted to an inanimate object, unprotected sex, size kink, he’s an elf so whatever kink that is, watersports, dirty talk, use of a different hole in the female body, ready has to lick her own pee, elf!kai licks readers eye, gets sealed in her wall

note: not my best work but that’s ok. JUST FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES I SWEAR GUYS IM NOT CRAZY. tbh this isn’t that good but it’s comedic and that’s all that matters to me, also it’s not x reader it’s x claire sorry not sorry

she couldn’t believe her eyes. he looked just like him.

it has been a full year now since kai’s untimely demise, and sometimes she felt as though his face was everywhere. in the passing of strangers, in the clouds in the sky, the paint imperfections on her ceiling as she layed awake at night.

but here he was. his stern face magically before her, his greasy blue hair, his dark eyes. all fit compactly onto the small face of the elf on the shelf she stared at in the store.

how had the makers of this doll gotten every single feature correct about him? all down to the single freckle at the tip of his nose.

claire was supposed to be moving on. claire had moved on. hadn’t she? as she grabbed the doll and stuffed it into her basket, heading to the checkout lanes.

___

she thought about it all night. the way she delicately unpackaged the doll, set him carefully up above the mantle, a place where Kai and her used to sit, cuddled up before the fire, now much duller and more empty once he’d left.

the elf sat there like a reminder, of him, of who she used to be, what they once had. she had to avert her eyes before she teared up too much.

claire wasn’t really sure what she was expecting the first night she took him home, but when the elf remained there, untouched, unmoved, looking still, identical to her beloved but in the sense that it, too, was lifeless and cold.

though, it’s not like she could just throw it away. throw him away. so she left him there. sure, it hurt to see him like this, but it hurt more to have to say goodbye for a second time. moving one is for chumps, right?

the second night was different, however. firstly, claire had taken a shower at 10, finding that none of her clothes were clean, she was left to shut down the house for sleep completely naked. it was no big deal. she lived alone now, and she kept her windows closed most of the time.

she locked the door and tidied up the house, turning off the lights of the well decorated tree in her living room. as she practically danced around the house wearing nothing, she was completely unaware of the tent slowly growing in the groin of the elf, carefully watching the show. it wasn’t something she’d concern herself with, given that elves don’t have genitalia, or so she was led to believe, but something about this elf was different.

he wasn’t like other elves. perhaps he was special enough to cure her lovesickness.

after taking care of all that needed to be done, she layed down in her empty bed once again, as she had done for an entire year now, day after day, and it didn’t ever get easier, she just got used to it.

that’s when she heard it. thump thump thump

‘what the fuck?’ she thought to herself. she would have said it out loud, but she had two reasons not to: one being that she promised herself she wouldn’t allow herself to go crazy in such a way and another being that if an intruder had entered, they would surely hear her.

she didn’t dare move, her breaths shallow and quick as she waited to hear if she truly had gone crazy yet.

thump thump thump

she lived alone. of this she was sure. no doubt in her mind, nothing in her house was supposed to make any noise after she had retired to her bedroom. unless…

no, it couldn’t be. sure, she had dreamt of it almost every night, no, every single night since she had lost him, but there was no way he could walk back through that door. magical things don’t happen in the real world, as much as you hope and pray.

she crawled out of bed and crept down to the floor by her bedroom door, trying to make out a shadow of what might be out there. the hall light was on, something she definitely was not responsible, and her stomach dropped.

the more she thought about it, the more the most dangerous part of her brain took over. what did she have to lose? she had no family, aside from kai, no friends, aside from kai’s friends, though she hadn’t talked to them since, and was working a minimum wage job in a fast food restaurant.

she could storm out of the room and confront her attacker with nothing but her bare fists and let god be her witness as no one else sure would be.

with no second thought, that’s what she did. she swung open the door.

in this world, there were a few things she had to be sure about, with each passing day, the threat of losing her sanity became more apparent.

1. magical things don’t happen in the real world

2. she truly was alone in this world, in every type of way

3. kai anderson, the love of her life, bane of her existence, and the only thing that ever kept her tethered to the earth, was dead

though, as the elf, also known as kai, stood before her in the doorway, menacing as ever, almost as much as when he was alive, with a boner in his silly little red footie pajamas.

it was erotic in nature to claire, being so sexually aroused by an elf doll, but she found it hard to be ashamed as he resembled her beloved so closely.

“kai?” she gasped out loud and fell to her knees, still not even eye level with the elf.

“claire…” the elf spoke lowly and claire expected some type of comfort, jesus, he had been gone a year now, how much more can she take, but he stepped forward and continued, “you’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

she picked her head up from her hands. “wha- i don’t understand?” she spoke through sobs.

“you heard me. loud and clear. you’ve been naughty. i’ll tell santa if you don’t obey me.”

“what do you want, divine ruler?” she looked down at him with dark eyes.

“lay down on the bed, you dirty little slut.”

she felt her arousal grow with every squeaky word he spoke. something about being an elf, in such a small body caused his voice to sound something like a chipmunk, but she found it erotic, regardless.

she lay down on the bed, legs spread, ready for whatever may happen. he climbed on top of her, straddling her face with his doll legs, and he let his micro erection spring free. “suck, bitch.”

she gulped. “how exactly do i-“ she started but he shoved his length into her mouth before she could finish. it was almost like a single french fry, warm, salty, and small on her tongue, but she worked her best to please him in any way he desired.

“good girl,” he moaned out to her, and attempted to smack her face with the sewn in white gloves he wore, but he could merely caress her cheek limply with every attempt. he sighed and didn’t try again.

his moans got higher in pitch as he got closer to his release, and she was worried he was getting so high in pitch that only dogs would hear him soon.

“fuck baby, i’m gonna-“ he didn’t end his sentence as his hot load shot into her mouth, being about a single drop on her tongue, but once again, she didn’t mind. anything for her master, even if he was an elf.

he removed himself from her mouth the moment he felt her swallow, and moved down to abruptly stick his length into her leaking cunt.

she moaned loudly, out of pity for his small size and in some odd way, immense pleasure, as she found his micro penis much more arousing than she expected.

he groaned in annoyance. “fuck, i can’t feel you at all,” just as claire was about to reach her breaking point, he pulled out, and developed a sinister look on his face. “i know what will work.”

she aimed to raise her head to look at the elf working on her but her body went stiff when she felt his dick slide into her urethra.

“what the fuck are you doing?” she whined out in pain but he continued his attack on her smallest hole, the exact right size for his less than average manhood, or elfhood, as it would now seem to be.

“fuck, you feel so good you little whore. you’re still daddy’s princess, aren’t you?”

she hardly felt any pleasure anymore, mostly just an odd pain, but it was enough knowing it would please her master.

“yes daddy. i’m your princess daddy. i love you daddy,” she moaned. “oh shit,” her voice dropped an octave as panic began to swim around her leaking body. “fuck, daddy, i’m gonna-“

before she could finish her sentence, a powerful stream of piss shot out of her, through the hole the little elf man had claimed, pushing him out of her, and with that, given his now minimum body weight, catapulted his entire body away from her, thwapping him against the wall with a loud smack before he could register what was happening.

he sat up and observed the mess she had made. “lick it up, bitch.”

“what?” she sat up in shock to look at him.

“i said lick it up. since you’re daddy’s princess, you have to do what daddy says.”

though he was just an elf, he was still scary, intimidating and had a murderous gleam in his plastic eyes, something that claire didn’t want to explore, given her reoccurring nightmare of being murdered in her sleep by a doll.

on her hands and knees now, she licked the trail of piss with her tongue off the carpet, attracting all types of gunk left in the carpet from her lack of vacuuming, before she was met face to face with the elf again.

she expected him to leave her a kiss, something she hadn’t had in ages, even in the time leading up to his death. she’d be lying if she said that what she had with kai was perfect, or anywhere near it, and as the last few months went by, the two hardly ever spoke.

instead, he leaned in, slow and carefully, noticing her wide eyes gazing back at him, and licked her eyeball. she flew back in surprise, clutching her teary eye with both hands. “what the fuck?” she cursed, screaming and sobbing in pain.

“i always wanted to try that when i was alive, baby. thanks for giving me the chance to live out my wildest fantasies.”

but the clock struck midnight. with a panicked look on kai’s elfy face, he scrambled to speak one last word, “wait!”

it was too late. his sopping, putrid, soggy elf body was lifeless on the floor, just as he had began. claire picked him up and chucked him at the wall again.

“fuck you!” she screamed as she beat him against the wall, over, and over, and over, until a big whole was left in the wall.

she stuffed him inside of it, and with a plaster repair kit she had been smart enough to purchase a few months back, she sealed him in there. she hoped she would never have to see his handsome, elf face ever again, no matter how much it pained her greatly.

moving on wasn’t for chumps. it was for survivors, and that’s who she was.