#feeling used and violated is only hot in fantasies

[dreamboyslut]

I wish I was able to feel sexual attraction towards a real person, I feel like that's a level of intimacy that I'll never be able to reach. need somebody's hands on my body to feel like an embrace and not a contract

[x--sinner--x]

I saw your post about a dark fantasy…

Here is mine ✨♾️

I want to be walking around downtown in a slutty little skirt and shirt basically showing myself off. After all I just want to be used. Some guy keeps eyeing me but I keep denying him because I’m with my home girls, once it’s already very late and I’m the sober one I walk my friends to there rides and wait for mine. While requesting a ride the guy I rejected comes up to me and takes me down an ally. He pins me against the wall and starts slapping my ass telling me how I shouldn’t have been teasing him and being all slutty. Then drags me by my hair and takes me in his car/van. I’m all tied up with my boobs out and my panties cut off. I don’t know where he is taking me and once we reached his dungeon he takes me and ties me up and flogs me, pulls out all his toys and tells me “I’m going to keep you up for hours. You wanted to be acting like a whore I’ll treat you like one.” Putting a vib on my clit edging me for a while then gets a dildo and fucks me with it not giving me any type of break and letting me cum and degrades me for finishing getting of to this even if I’m begging for him to stop, when he does stop he face fucks me telling me I’m made for this and it’s all I should be doing. Doesn’t cum in my mouth but all over my body and tells me to stay calm and be patient we aren’t done yet. Let’s his buddy he was also eyeing me in the club have some fun with me by fingering me and slapping my cunt and spitting on me. Then the first guy finally puts his dick in me while his friend watches and I squirm telling him I don’t want this and to stop but my body is completely betraying me and he says “you keep saying stop please no! But your body is clenching around me, getting more wet! You wanted this.” I try not to cum and I just start saying please over and over again and then the other friend puts his dick in my mouth to shut me up and they start recording me going on hard and rough not letting me breath or take a break just being built to be the slut I was born to be. The friend finishes in my mouth and leaves while the first guy cums inside me and I think it’s over but he grabs a dildo again and plugs it inside me and makes use of can’t slip out. “I told you I’ll do whatever I want to you. I’ll make you beg, cry, hell I’ll make you admit you wanted this then just maybe I’ll stop” as he grabs my hair to make me face him and he slaps my face as I’m crying and moaning wanting to cum and he says “cum and say you wanted this.” As he puts his finger on my clit and I squirt and he doesn’t stop “I said tell me you wanted this! Say it’ say ur a slut who can’t control what her body wants.” And finally I’m cumming and saying “I’m a dirty girl who wanted this all along… I wanted to be raped.” And he unties me and lets me go but I’m so weak to move I just lay there watching him leave…

Fuck this is such a hot scenario, and probably one of my favourites too. Although I'm too possessive to share my prized victim with anyone else, but I'll make you feel like you are violated by more than one guy, all by myself.

Something triggers inside me when you reject me in the club, but you are wearing an outfit that is meant to get attention from men. I made sure to have an eye on you until you left the bar with your drunk girl friends and noticed how you are the only one who's sober. I didn't like your 'holier than thou - i don't drink but I'll be their guardian angel' attitude you had. That's why I jumped you as you waited for your ride.

I'll have one of those ominous looking vans with big empty space at the back and just 2 seats at the front. I'll take you right there for round one before I continue using you at my secret sex dungeon. I used my handy rope I keep in my van to tie you all up, and cut your clothes even more, so that the outfit matches your expectation of what you wanted to wear at the club but couldn't - your boobs out, visible curvy hips, and no panties to show off that shaved pussy under your skirt.

I'll have so much fun in the van, making you ride on my cock as tears trickle down your face and your tits bounce and flap around as I grab your hips and pushing you down on my cock. I'll make sure to stuff your mouth and asshole and keep switching which holes I choose to plug while I'm using the other hole. I'm gonna manhandle you and push your face on the floor while I use your fleshlight worthy pussy and feel it clench around my hard cock, all while your screams feel like moans, making me all the more feral. I'm gonna cut your skin in a few places and watch you wince in pain and spank your ass hard until I can see my own hand forming as an imprint on your ass cheeks.

You will be cumming so hard around my cock from all of the stimulation even though your mind is actively resisting it. The moment you pass out, I drive you out to my sex dungeon and I'll prep you up for round two and I'll record every single bit of it, and make you watch it over and over when I'm not using you.

If you are lucky, I might invite some guys to come jerk their cum on your body, but they can only watch as I fuck you so hard that it only makes them cum that much faster.

[drdemonprince]

I'm just now starting to process and come to grips with CNC fantasies that I'd previously denied having for a few reasons. One being that I'd always interpreted CNC fantasy as only coming from the perspective of wanting to be violated (or role play at it rather) and genuinely hadn't considered the possibility of having a fantasy of being the agressor (the fact that I'm a genderfluid AFAB person who presents publically as an, albeit not especially feminine, cis woman definitely also contributed to my idea that any rape or CNC fantasy i could have must be in the context of me as a victim) and part of that which I'm having a hard time processing (to the extent I'm willing to put this forward for insights) is how my fantasies manifest. One is the fact that they all involve deception or incapacitation of the victim in some manner be in drugging, taking advantage of them whilst they are already in a deep sleep or not fully conscious, or even claiming to have tattoos and encouraging a thorough exploration of my body by a self avowed tattoo fetishist knowing full well that I don't have any in order to "trick them" into sleeping with me. The second part has to do with who the victims are. The first category could be described as a revenge fantasy and as such I don't feel especially guilty for having it. More specifically the idea of raping or sexual abusing someone who has a history of being a perpetrator of that class of crimes against others (think of it like being the Dexter Morgan of sex crimes). The second type of victim in these scenarios are people who wouldn't willingly have sex with me irl due to stigmatized factors of my being such as my fatness, my bisexuality, my gender-fluidity/non confirming presentation, my autism/neurodivergency, my limited prior sexual experience relative to most people my age, and even my youthful appearance (the last happens less than it did a few years ago but it used to feel brutal and yes all of these are reasons people have explicitly refused to date or be intimate with me) basically by as I mentioned above deceiving or incapacitating them into a situation where they can't resist or more often are unaware of me having sex with them as it happens and only learn about it after waking up if at all. This is the part I feel shameful for desiring because if you asked me what I'd think if a cis male incel did that in real life I'd unequivocally say it was wrong and horrific no questions asked but then when I fantasize about doing it to someone as a means of pulling one over on them, tricking/convincing someone who wouldn't willingly sleep with me or desire me into doing so anyway, well quite frankly as conflicted as it makes me feel there is something that feels empowering about they and I don't know how to process it all

The Dexter Morgan of sex crimes! I feel you. When a certain video game writer & Youtuber previously possessed of a softboy reputation was outed several years ago as a repeated sexual harasser, I fantasized about sliding into his DMs and harassing him the same way that he had bothered others -- I'd always been very attracted to the guy and thought to myself, wow, he'd actually be really easy to bag right now. I get the fantasy, I find it very hot -- it's an opportunity to be sexually aggressive and feel desired without risking rejection or the possibility of harming someone, or so our minds tell us.

There would be nothing wrong with a young, sexually inexperienced man fantasizing about having sex with women through deception, intoxication, or coercion either, as I'm sure you realize. There's nothing ever wrong with a fantasy, and those of us who do dream of being sexually preyed upon from the other side of the Dominant/submissive slash are indebted to the genuinely decent people who long to be the aggressors that we dream about, lest we have to resort to someone who is just genuinely predatory. So let's just establish all that right out the gate. There is nothing wrong with you imagining taking advantage of people, and in fact a great many people who want to be "taken advantage" of in a negotiated kinky scenario, and the more open sadists/Doms/manipulators that we have out there in the world owning their kinks and looking for partners, the fewer people will get their needs met through far messier, riskier means.

It's certainly find to entertain these ideas in the privacy of your mind (or any other ideas at all ever), but what I'd like to ask you is whether you'd like to bring some of these ideas into reality a bit. You may find it to be a genuine power rush to put yourself out there as a Dominant/coercive-kink play figure and see just how many attractive men are absolutely slobbering to be with someone like you.

You are person generally interpreted as a woman who wants to take on the aggressor role in this case; that is much sought-after within kinky communities and you'd have your pick of any number of partners. A lot of them will suck, or simply be uninteresting or a bad match, but you can have your pick of the litter and find someone who is communicative, treats you decently, and is understanding that this is your first time at the rodeo.

Roleplaying a tattoo examination scene or similarly less-intense iteration of your fantasy seems a natural first step. Choose a scenario that you and an interested partner can figure out how to play-act without any complicated restraints or intoxicants involved, and plenty of off-ramps, should anybody need a break or feel squirrely. Get involved in the local kink scene if you aren't, and build community with some other Dominants/aggressors. Develop your skills and expand your kinky horizons. One day, with a decent amount of practice, you could find yourself actually drugging a consenting partner that you have a long track record with and assaulting them. (weed, melatonin, or maybe a small dose of a cold medicine are decent first substances for this kind of thing). I can't tell you how many people are out there longing to experience such a thing -- but I can tell you that I'm one of them! you can find many people who would say the same! have some fun!

[metranart]

Mikey x Reader x Draken (Tokyo Revengers)(Part 6)

⭕️ Visit my PATREON LINK for some spicy Tokyo Rev NSFW art and exclusive smut fanfiction.

Warning tag: obsessed! Mikey, possessive! Draken, naive! reader, threesome, violation of trust, dubious consent, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, teenage craves, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, pussy eating, love confessions, cock-drunk, boys trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, sleeping! reader, gang stuff.

-

The water is already steamy, and both boys itch to fulfil their next fantasy. They know it would take time to have your full and undeniable consent and approval. 

The duo also knows this wasn’t the best path to win you over but now that it's done, there’s no way back and letting you go isn't even an option.

“N-No.” your defiance is intoxicating for some unknown reason. 

“No, huh?” 

“Yes, I said no.” You don’t let the shake in your voice manifest. 

Meanwhile, the heat emanating from the shower starts to create a cloud of steam and being the only one with clothes on, you can feel the fabric beginning to stick against your skin. 

You don’t know how to be shameless regarding nakedness like them. As if they didn't care if someone else saw them….  Even as if they've seen each other naked a million times, and then, it hits you. 

“—Since when are you together?” 

Mikey hums, pensively, “We know each other since we were just your height, little one.” The blond openly jokes, and you can hear Draken snickering. 

“You are like one inch taller than me—” 

“You’ll do good to remember that.” Mikey keeps teasing, sassy grin curving his lips. 

Fed up with his antics, you stop tip toing around them, and aim for a punch under the belt. 

“Your boyfriend is being an asshole, Draken.” You spat, venom dripping from your tongue, crossing your arms in front of your chest a tense silence floats for a second too long, and it pops like a soap bubble when, they burst out laughing. 

“She is at us, baby.” 

Draken says between laughter, and you can hear his equally annoying buddy, clap a hand at his knee while holding his stomach, letting the laughter slowly die down. 

“(Y/N)—you perspicacious little thing…” Mikey chuckles out, and cleaning the remnant of tears from his eyes, shakes his head, “of course, Draken and I are a thing.” The short blond unashamedly, admits. 

“…Lover?” you murmur and quickly correct, “—boyfriend!” 

“The first one…” Mikey replies, unconcerned “and the second one—” continues, your mouth opens but he keeps going, “and… the third one.” 

Confusion reflects on your features and is quick to add. 

“He is mine—” easily claims, “the same as you are.” Shrugs his shoulders, unworriedly looking through your shoulder at Draken who plainly grins. 

“You can’t own a person…” you hear yourself whisper. 

“Sure, you can!” he boasts, “as long as he owns you back—” Mikey explains, standing up from the toilet lid to take a couple of leisured steps towards you “… and I promise you…” the bastard towers over you, even when he’s just a bit taller, “Its. Fucking. Fulfilling.” Closes the distance with each word until is face to face with you. 

The whole room begins to feel cramped; you feel like an animal inside a cage and sensing your weariness, Draken pats your shoulder, lightly. 

“You must be suffocating in so many clothes—you’d better take them off.” He suggests, previous warning buried under layers of patience. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you were profusely sweating, Toman’s uniforms are not for hot weather … or, rather for steam baths.

The fabric adhered to your skin feels awfully uncomfortable and soon the discomfort is so much that you don’t see another option.  No doubt that damn Draken did this on purpose, smart little bastard.

“—Could you turn around?” 

The request leaves your mouth out of your control and to your surprise, both comply.

They turn around without saying a word, and you stay still for a moment before starting to undress.  You know it's silly because they're going to have to see you eventually, but being granted this small favor makes you feel a little more in control. 

“Ready?” 

Mikey asks, since the noises of clothes falling to the ground stopped being heard, and you sigh heavily before answering.

“I would feel more comfortable if you let me bath on my own—” 

“We understand…” the ghost of a smile hunts your face for a brief moment when Mikey seems to yield “—but then who would wash your back,” but then he adds, wiping all mirth from your features right away, fake concern tainting his sarcastic tone, “or clean behind your ears…?” Draken joins following his lead, and you can hear the smirk on their faces even when you can’t see it. 

“—Does messing up with me bring you guys any kind of twisted pleasure?” you ask, making sure they notice your contempt for them, “or is it part of your supposed unconditional LOVE for me?” Your blatant mock makes you feel pleased when they don’t reply immediately. 

Finally, some payback, you think, but you couldn’t be more wrong because you just gave them the excuse they’ve been looking for, since the three entered the bathroom.

“She still doesn’t believe us, Kenchin.”

Mikey groans, stretching his back soundly, like subtly reminding you how strong they are compared to you. 

“I heard—” the dragon tattoo owner replies, “and it breaks my heart.” Draken sighs, yet it sounds false and combing his blond hair back, stresses.

“Sounds to me like it’s our sacred duty as her irrevocable boyfriends…” makes a meaningful pause for you to witness him slowly turn around to look at you while spelling the next words, “—to remind her who she belongs to now.”

Fear melts your satisfied grin into pure despair and taking a step away from the intimidating tall blond and his dark promise, your naked back bumps against a solid chest.

“I agree, baby...” Mikey´s voice sounds closer to your ear, “now (y/n) … It’s your decision how this will happen…” the Toman leader explains, pressing his strong chest flush against your bare back, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder to spy your reactions, “… we can be gentle and sweet, or NONE…” putting a lock of hair behind your ear, pecks your cheek, gallantly and finishes, “your move.”

A loud breath tells them that you are getting awfully nervous, your gaze desperately searches for a way out, and they only follow your line of sight, yet don’t attempt to move. Until you try to take a step forward and as if in chain reaction, Mikey’s arm encircles your waist and Draken closes the distance, only leaving a centimeter of air that prevents your breast from colliding with his.

“I—…I believe you!” you lie, “there’s no need—” 

“Nop.” You feel Mikey´s lips glued to the shell of your ear, “Just decide.”

You hate being put in these scenarios, and you hate more that you are so afraid of them that you prefer a known devil, than a devil to know. So, disgusted by your next words, you shamefully reduce to play they little sick game of power. 

“Gentle.”

Both boys' smirk, wildly. Without a doubt, you are beginning to be trained to comply, and that pleases them very much, so much that they are going to gift you an extra special, session. 

“Smart move.” Draken praises, “of course, she´s our smart girl.” Mikey complements.

Is the last you hear before been push under the hot water jet, the sound of the water lapping at your skin drowns out every sinful moan you try so hard to bit back as their naughty hands and thirsty mouths, explore your curves without restraint. 

Trying to keep your legs closed is useless as teaming up, they spread them, effortlessly, losing all sense of composure and frantically both drag their fingers among your slick folds, enticing you to follow their euphoric pace. 

You can´t swallow the heavy moan that breaks your composure, and Draken presses his lips to the line of your jaw, you instantly go rigid at the gentle kiss, making you wonder how someone who looks so dangerous can be so mellow.  

“I know it´s only being a night since,” he whispers against your skin, fervently, maneuvering your palm to wrap around his warm, thick cock. “But don’t you ever stop us from touching you again, (y/n).” He groans and aids you to give him a good, rough squeeze, so he can slowly start to thrust his hips into your clenched fist.

“Fuck—that´s it.” He moans hoarsely, “keep going—Don´t s-stop...” your hand moves erratically, not sure how to please him and not sure if you want to keep going, when Mikey urges you to continue by wrapping his hand among your fingers, “Like this, Babygirl, Draken likes it when you pamper the head...” and following his instructions, you brush your thumb along the tip of his cock and Mikey hums approvingly when his bestie´s body jerks with it. “That´s a good girl.” The shorter blond praises, letting you keep going on your own.

Meanwhile, Mikey’s hands attack you gliding over your wet skin like a snake, caresses with a smooth continuous motion, insistently pursuing the curve of your breasts, squeezing hard enough for the plump flesh to spill among his fingers while his hard cock smears against your bottom, letting you nestle it between your butt cheeks, praises of how good your being falling from their mouths like water from the faucet. 

“Be honest with us, (Y/N),” Draken gasps, growing harder and harder in your hand, “at some point —Fuck....” his breathing stutters, “—this scenario had to cross your mind… at least once….”

“W-What—what scenario?” you murmur, overstimulation making your speech drag, for Mikey is unable to stop playing with your hardened nipples, “don´t stop—” Draken groans, and you begin to stroke his throbbing length up and down in time with his euphoric thrusts.  

“You guys are not my cup of tea...” you drag out, between pitiful whimpers and Mikey barks a humorless laugh before reply, “what's not to like, babe?... To me, you sound outstandingly pleased.”

“—Being fucked… without my-my consent—by two abusive gang members w-who won’t take no for… an answer?” how the fuck do you find the words to entice them even more is beyond them, but you do, “… and you ask—...what's not to like?”  

A crude chuckle quakes Draken’s chest with blessed amusement and he press soft, open-mouthed kisses along the heaving curve of your neck, letting his warm tongue come out to taste you and slowly disentangles your fingers off his length, for your attention to be solely on Mikey, who reaches one of his hands down to gently cup your cunt.

“It’s not ideal, of course,” Mikey admits, mindlessly and you gasp at his blatant honesty, hand in hand with his working fingers on you, “-we are not some stupid gang members who don't understand anything,” his words are being muffled by your skin when his lips trace your shoulder, “we also understand that what we did, has consequences—” he agrees, and you realize why he´s one of the most respected leaders among the gangs, “but everything has a solution... if you accept us as yours.” 

You groan deliriously when his digits scissor your sensitive cunt.  “We´ll give you anything, sweet girl.” A ragged gasp tears through your throat and his back straightens, proudly at hearing your melodic orgasm rip out through your convulsing frame. “Thats it —” he breaths against your ear, “... that orgasm was nothing compared to what awaits you, if you say YES.”

Collapsing against Mikey´s body, he all too pleased holds you, lifting you a little off the floor, patiently waiting for your legs to work again.

“There is nothing you can do—to make me say yes...” you strive for your voice to sound firm but fail miserably, even so, the message is sent... “—nothing.”

“Well, that was disappointing...” Mikey slumps down a little, “but hey! this was my first attempt to woo you—” Oh my God, they had to be kidding... “I'm sure the others will be successful, and soon you'll come back to your senses, ain't that right, Draken?”

Draken nods, “—but that doesn't mean we can't help her to cope, Mikey,” he adds, wickedly.

“Ain´t you smart, baby…” Mikey praises his lover.

“Just...this time... let ME set the tune—” Draken calls dibs.

“By all means, Commander.” Mikey concedes.

Your sarcastic comeback catches in your throat as the tall blond, invasively slides his palm between your buttocks, and his thick thumb breaches the sanctity of your ass.

You raggedly gasp, stunned by his audacity.  

“—Don´t...!”

“Shhh... just relax and let me work you.”

Your body fills with wildfire, ladling heat into your lower tummy. The sensation is genuinely mind shattering, no one has ever done something like that to you... not even yourself, the discomfort is too fleeting, only remaining a feeling that you cannot describe. 

Your eyes shut tight as your mouth forms an “o” shape, but no sound comes out, and Mikey takes advantage of the moment of blindness to slide his fingers inside your tired slit, thumb designated to your clit, making lazy circles over your vulnerable bundle of nerves.

“It feels—I feel...w-weird,” you gasp out, swallowing thickly and reaching your hand out to rest along the smoothness of Mikey´s neck.  He noticeably leans into your touch. “Relax, baby, just let him work.” He advices reassuringly, peeking down at Draken pumping his thumb, in and out of your virgin ass. 

Your fingers squeeze gently, ranking your nails among the wet skin you can find. “...I don´t think... I can handle—”

“Sure, you can—” Draken is swift to interrupt you, thick fingers abandoning your spasming asshole to brace you up into his arms, you manage to stay remarkably still for someone who is being forced to straddle and present its ass out.  

“I think she´s as ready as she will be.” Mikey suddenly says, speaking to Draken while ignoring your constant pleas for them to stop. “I guess, it´ll hurt,” Draken´s sigh presses against the side of your face, and glimpsing Mikey´s furrowed brows, hurries to add “—but just for a second before she stretches.”

The skin of Draken´s back feels feverishly warm under your fidgety palms as his toned muscles periodically flicker and shine under the slippery gush of water.

“Hold on tight to me, (y/n).” Draken instructs, sliding his palms from your thighs to your ass where he parts your butt cheeks for Mikey to dip the head of his cock inside your butthole.

You have to bite down on your lip, hard and harder, when Mikey suddenly impales you to the hilt in one swift roll of his hips, splitting you wide open in one single sharp thrust, which drags a pitched scream out of you and a highly pleasurable and long grunt, out of him.

“Oh my—….FUCK!” he blasts, out of breath “Oh my fucking god,” his head falls back, gasping deeply.  

“...That good?” Draken wonders, firmly holding the sides of your thighs to keep you sprawl, Mikey nods.  

“I´m gonna—make her milk me ´till she burst,” Mikey mutters raggedly, before setting a brutal pace, your moan piercingly loud, forcing Draken to cover your mouth. “Easy there, gorgeous, we don't want the whole brothel to wake up,” Draken says, and once he sees your brows starting to smooth again, he takes it as his cue to massage your ass before burying himself inside your cunt to the hilt. This is too fucking much. Your body is reaching a point of overstimulation you had never experienced before and noticing your slitted, crossed eyes, the sub-commander takes a long stilling moment for you to accommodate and enjoy the way you feel so asphyxiatingly tight around them, thanks to how well both are filling you. 

“Thi-This...This is definitely it, Babygirl, you are so... so PERFECT.”

“She´s doing so well,” Mikey´s eyes remain tightly shut to be able to last, the slapping of his grinding hips against your ass a constant sound among your pitiful whimpers. “I’m so fucking close,” his voice sounds annoyed, “this kitten´s reaaaaally squeezing down on me, good—Fuck.”

“I know—...Ngh! So, fucking cramped-…. this cunt is...—driving me nuts.” Draken’s long, and awfully thick, every thrust of his fat cock nudges against that spot inside you that makes you see stars. 

You feel them sync up, and suddenly each thrust is appropriately devastating to your inexperienced body, not a trace of pain left, just the feeling of being impossibly stuffed. Your mouth drops open, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when Mikey sinks his canines to your shoulder. “M cumming,” and, bites hard to prevent the loud growl when he spills his seed inside you so fucking violent, it makes his legs almost collapse under his weight. 

“´Yo still with us, Mikey?” Draken barks a laugh when his leader slumps down into the solid ground with a maniac grin stretching his lips like a wild man. His back continues to rise and fall with quiet, unsteady breaths, clearly passed out from overexertion. “Oh my god... oh my fucking God, Kenchin—...I'm going to burst into happy tears, man.”

“´Yo kidding, right?” Draken reaches up and takes one fistful of your hair to lean your face to his, but you are already half-way numb, and groaning a little, he keeps fucking you, steady and slow.

“Then, you call it a day.” Draken hurries to ask his fallen comrade, hips never faltering, your legs limp at each side of him.

“I, fucking, am—” Mikey grunts, too pleased with the experience to even care.

“So, do I have green light to: do whatever the fuck I want with our kitten?” he smirks, slowing down for a second to rub your back, affectional. 

“Sure, man, fuck her stupid... stupider, if that’s even possible.” 

Mikey enjoys the show from the wet floor. Draken gives your ass a hard slap which makes you wince out of your numbness, and throws his head back in ecstasy, allowing your gummy walls to embrace him at its fullest. 

“’M about to find out.” 

COMING SOON PART 7....

⭕️ In my PATREON LINK you will find NSFW art of this chapter and more spicy Tokyo Rev NSFW art and exclusive smut fanfiction.... Plus 'Spicy Foreplay tier reward' like: voting poll privilege for the exclusively Patreon one-shot stories where you can choose the couple pairing and kinky mood for the story and NSFW art, along with some naughty animation like THIS ONE ....and my eternal and vast gratitude for your support!!!

[coziebunbuns]

Imagine, you crush finds out about your r4p3 kink... (Whether that be you daddy, brother, stalker crush doesn't matter)

You've only ever admired them from afar in the quietness of your heart. Most people call you nonchalant, as they never know how you really feel, and you use that to your advantage. Any moment you get to bask in your crush's presence feels like a gift from the heavens, but your mind when they're around descends to a place much worse the the gutter, and way filthier than hell.

As soon as you get home you scramble to get to your journal, and inconspicuous little diary you can't help but to carry everywhere you go. All hot and bothered you pour out your heart in passion to the blank pages. You pour out how you feel, how they make your heart flutter, how your stomach curls with yearning to be in their arm. How you body gets hot at the thought of them kissing you, touching you taking you. How your hole clenches and drools at the notion of them raping you.

Your journal is heavy with your depraved r4pe fantasies, of all the ways your crush could disrespect and violate you. You want them to take what they deserved, without your permission. At any time, anywhere, in public or in private. You see them as a god almost, you feel as though you are nothing without them. Oh to be a loyal and devout r4pe slave to your requainted.

But it could never happen, they don't even know your exist. Until one day....

You make a mistake, getting too close to him while you where out. You bump into each other and he strikes up a conversation, something about the weather, or food. But you were holding your journal and drop it by accident, when you leave your so flushed you don't even notice, not until you get home. But you cold have lost it anywhere. You go back out immediately to look for it retracing your steps and all but it's nowhere to be seen.

You hmgo to bed more than frustrated, who knows where it landed and if you'd even get it back.

It's the dead of night now, you've would down for be and are two winks from falling asleep when. You hear a sound. You lay still with your eyes open, hoping to make out what it was. Footsteps... In your house... And their getting closed. You get out of bed to investigate when your bedroom door swings open. It's your crush.

You don't know whether to be confused, scared, or overjoyed. But your thoughts stop when they toss your cute little journal onto your bed. You just know they've read it.

You make a run for the door, hope to get escape the shame, but your crush knew you would do that, they led you go, but all the doors and windows are locked. You have nowhere to run. On the verge of a break down, your crush grabs you by the hair and drags you back to the room, explaining how they had a wonderful time reading about your dirty little fantasies and how you've been wanting them to rape you for such a long time, and they'd love to make your dreams come true.

You try to protest it as you flimsy nighty comes of, but they just slap you and remind you that you wanted this, and it your fault that this is happening to you. They mounted you faster than you could comprehend, deep, angry thrusts now rocking your vulnerable body. Naturally you cry out in protest, but a hand is clapped over your mouth to shut you up, they assure you that they will be using all of your holes from now on.

The discomfort starts to fade, pleasure blooming in it's place, you have wanted this for a long time, and you crush seems to enjoy you tight little r4pe hole. Your legs start to trembling as your orgasm approaches and they praise you for being such a good r4pe doll.

From now on they're gonna keep your little diary and make sure all of your darkest fantasies are fulfilled, they promised to use your whore holes every chance they get and will not go a day without doing so.

With the continuous stream of rape threats being growled in your ear, you cum harder than you thought you ever could. With a sinister laugh, your crush grabs your thoughts and promises there's more to come.

Idk about you guys but that sounds pretty neat😭🤧

🐇. 🐇. 🐇. 🐇. 🐇. 🐇. 🐇. 🐇.

[andthekitchensinkao3]

Me rambling about STaF

So, I’m at the stage in Stories Told and Forgotten where Emmrich and Rook are both pining for each other, while mutually convinced he couldn’t POSSIBLY want me, I’m:

1) a boring academic who’s barely seen the world outside the Necropolis, Rook would get bored with my at times workaholic sensibilities and endless semi-political navigating of the upper echelons of society and/or academia. It’s enough that we’re friends.

2) a disgraced Mourn Watcher as politically savvy as a nug; I’ve barely accomplished anything, and I’m nearing my forties; even if Emmrich likes my company it would be tantamount to character assassination for him to be seen with me in public. It’s bad enough we’re friends.

While simultaneously being the horniest adult teenagers in the privacy of their own minds.

Story spoilers, queer angst and spicy stuff under the cut, but I just need to vent a bit, because omfg this angsty slowburn is going to kill me. 😒

Post-dragon fight in chapter 7, Emmrich’s in an emotionally vulnerable place and Rook’s there to help him through it with grace and respect and all that good stuff. You know, being there for the person you’re falling/already madly in love-and-lust with. There’s a point in the chapter where Rook’s helping Emmrich get out of his clothes, because you want to wash all that icky Blight right off, and all he can think about is how Emmrich’s got a post-life-threatening-event boner and he could climb him like a tree right there in the communal-bloody-bathroom; he could swallow him whole, and OMG are those nipple piercings O_O. And he can’t do anything about it, because he’s not going to violate Emmrich’s trust. 

And in the next chapter, Emmrich’s gone home to his flat in the Necropolis, ostensibly to sleep, but oh no. It’s Rook was so kind and patient and understanding and didn’t judge my meltdown-Maker help me he was kneeling in front of me what if he noticed my erection - jerking off like a mage possessed by a desire demon, only to feel like a grade A perv once the afterglow’s gone. Silly fantasies. Rook would never suck his tongue like a popsicle on a hot summer’s day.

Mutual “HE WOULD NEVER MATCH MY FREAK T_T”

Cue tending to rituals in the Memorial Gardens. Tea time. Emmrich tells Rook about his fear of death and what happened to his parents. Rook wants, desperately, to tell Emmrich he’s trans, but he can’t make this moment about him. This isn’t about him, it’s Emmrich opening up, sharing something incredibly vulnerable about his past. Instead, like in-game, Rook shares how he was a foundling, taken in by the Watch.

The chapter after that, Taash joins the team, and of course, pegs Rook instantly. Asks him if he’s a man or a woman - refreshingly blunt, genuinely curious but not judgmental. Rook gets to talk about his own identity in a way he isn’t used to. Not so much having to explain himself, as talking openly about his experiences. And Taash appreciates it. Rook senses a kindred spirit. Of sorts. It feels good to talk about it without someone clutching their metaphorical pearls. Maybe he’ll take Varric’s advice after all, and ask Emmrich out for hot beverages someplace nice, and… let his interests be known, and… tell him.

A day or so goes by. The team are enjoying some well-deserved downtime, playing Wicked Grace in the dining hall. And someone brings up another game, along the lines of fuck, marry, kill. Everyone has a bit of harmless fun, banter banter, yanking chains - of course neither Rook nor Emmrich say ANYTHING about each other. And as the evening winds down, Rook catches Emmrich on his way to the eluvian room. Asks him out, much awkward and blushing, saying he’d like to get to know him better and… maybe share some things about his past. Emmrich would be delighted. Rook just needs a few days to work up his nerve/muster the courage, so suggests a bit later in the week - given no new crises. It’s a date.

Between that night and Date Night, Rook decides to do something nice for the team. Something to welcome their newest and final member, and to celebrate being alive to see another day. He makes dinner, both to share some of his favorite dishes, and to make sure there’s something there everyone will enjoy.

It’s an unmitigated success. Food brings people together, and that’s something they all desperately need if they’re going to get through this mess. Everyone’s enjoying the food, having a good time, getting to know each other as people, not just their work titles and such. And Emmrich’s… beautiful. Smiling and vivacious and absolutely brilliant, and whenever Rook catches him looking, his eyes sparkle. Dare he hope? Could this be it? Could he finally be enough, just the way he is, because if Emmrich - world-wise, intellectual, kind and generous, romantic Emmrich - couldn’t look beyond the Nevarran taboo of cutting off "perfectly healthy" parts of your body, then who… 

Of course, that’s when Taash unwittingly outs Rook to the entire table - wanting to thank him for sharing his situation with her.

ONLY ONCE WE'RE PAST THIS POINT DO THEY ACTUALLY GET TO TALK ABOUT THINGS LIKE A PAIR OF SENSIBLE ADULTS 😆😆😆

[thesinglesjukebox]

GLORILLA, MEGAN THEE STALLION, AND CARDI B - "WANNA BE (REMIX)"

Go Jukebox! Go Jukebox! Blurb 'em, Jukebox! Blurb 'em Jukebox!

[7.10]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Punchline after punchline, read after read, hook after hook, no fat: just three talented titans at their tyrannical, terrifying peaks.  [9]

TA Inskeep: Cardi joins Megan and Glo — clearly their spiritual daughter — for some real hot girl shit. The beat isn't anything special, but when you've got spitters this hot on the track, I don't care. [8]

Taylor Alatorre: The addition of Cardi B turns what was a fun little collab into a putative Event Song, a burden that the midtempo sameness of the Soulja Boy sample is perhaps unequipped to take on. It's a trunk rattler, sure, but it feels perpetually on the verge of starting and never going anywhere, much unlike the drop-centric "Pretty Boy Swag." The upside of this rhythmic severity is that it makes it easier for the listener to pick out the pleasing stylistic contrasts at play here: the way GloRilla splays herself out across two whole bars just to remind us that a year has 365 days in it, whereas Cardi barks the words "pop ass on jet ski" like she’s avoiding a shot clock violation. Meg’s role is as the stabilizing force between these two extremes, which is maybe the first time in history that anyone’s referred to Megan Thee Stallion as a “stabilizing force.” [6]

Katherine St. Asaph: These credits should really be in reverse order, to better represent the three rappers' respective firepower here.  [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I’m filling out a Cardi B apology form after being down on “Miami” earlier this year — this verse is so good that when she gives herself a pep talk in the ad libs at the end it sounds deserved. Glo and Meg are also great, of course, and I’ll always be favorably inclined towards a rap hit that pays tribute to E-40, but the beat here lets the trio down — it creeps when it should at very least groove. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: I am going to repeat what a great black poet once said in regards to all my white colleagues in reference to Cardi B: Don't save her; she don't wanna be saved. (Megan and Glo are good on this, tho.) [6]

Julian Axelrod: "Wanna Be" feels gloriously unmoored from time, as Megan Thee Stallion and GloRilla play hot potato with the "Pretty Boy Swag" beat and shout out 2012 heartthrobs Channing Tatum and Justin Bieber. (To be fair, Channing has never looked better.) But in an era where guest verses are airdropped in from a tour bus several states away, the biggest throwback is their electric interplay on the chorus, which crackles with the kind of chemistry that can only be achieved by two baddies in the same room. Listening to them trade bars feels like walking into a conversation directly after the punchline; if you have to ask why they're laughing, the joke is probably on you. Spare a thought for Cardi, who's left to wander the empty space around them like Howard Hughes roaming his abandoned mansion. Hearing her root for herself on the outro after Meg and Glo finish hyping each other up is one of the most devastating depictions of third wheeling ever put to tape. [7]

Jonathan Bradley: The Soulja Boi flip is hot but the Project Pat flip is hotter. Glo is imperious ("Do I look like fuckin' Super-Woman" she asks, incredulous), but Megan is commanding, running a sword through a million misguided fantasies with a cutting "You ain't my daddy; I'm not your baby." (Nice Gucci Mane call-back, too; the references here are laser-focused on the early Obama era.) This is a remix, so we get bonus Cardi material. Unlike Glo and Meg, she has to hype herself up at the end, which feels kinda bad, but she could never be a third wheel, not when she's bringing fun phrasings like "hoes be chippity-chopped," which rhymes, of course, with "hickory dickory dock." [8]

Ian Mathers: The original didn't particularly feel like it was missing anything, but I'll happily take Cardi's fierce verse here for "my toes white like Matthew McConaughey" alone. And I'm not too proud to admit that at some point in the future I am absolutely going to refer to myself as "white boy wasted," either. [8]

Brad Shoup: Is Megan admitting to skiplagging? Megan, they'll ban you from the airline! [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[aspiringcockslave]

My Kinks

Hello, welcome to my blog. This is probably gonna be super inactive, and I'd rather stay anonymous. I am a switch and moreparts dom in my general life, so I made this blog as a different place to put my submissive thoughts. Apologies if this is rambly, I am very verbose.

I am a virgin trans man interested in someday (hopefully sooner than later) serving (male) cock. I am not into femdom and I'm not into submitting to pussy, so no t4t, sorry. I don't send nudes (yet, but I would like to become comfortable with that eventually). I am 6 years on T and post-op.

I love being obedient and having no control. I can find noncon hot (in fantasy form) but it isn't my preferred form. I love being a mindless slave. I do have a few fantasies of being slowly turned into a mindless slave when once a reluctant fwb, so the two can merge.

The primary focus of my fantasy is how I service others rather than what is done to me (tho there are definitely many things I would LOVE to experience). I love muscular men and I love them reminding me how they are superior to me, and selling it as objective fact. I love worshipping muscular men. That cunts exist to serve cocks. I have some soft limits but my goal is to eventually be willing to do everything outside of my hard limits, thus the name "aspiring cock slave". My submissive dream is to someday be a complete and total slut. Anytime a man asks for sex I say yes. Anytime a man asks me to do anything at all I obey. Eventually, anytime a man wants to do anything to my body he doesn't have to ask, and I will comply and not resist. Even help. Of course, this is a process of slowly leaving my comfort zone.

That being said I do also like the idea of people that know me knowing they can use me this way and keeping me in their home as a slave for a week or two. Having me deep clean their home, having me cook their food, having me keep their cock in my mouth while they work. So, a master/slave dynamic is hot to me as well as the public use.

I mostly fantasize about this in a genderless way, of being treated as a subhuman object that gender doesn't apply, so that's compatible both in a gay ftm way and also in a transphobic "straight" way. I love being degraded so I get definitely be into transphobia, but moreso in an insulting way than a misgendering way, but that can be made hot too. While femininity doesn't turn me on in and of itself, I do like the idea of not having any control, and thus, it not being up to me what gender I present. I will say I kinda hate women's fashion from just an opinion basis so I have never found the idea of dressing like a woman particularly hot, even in a kinky forceful way. But, I try to keep my hard limits list short so it theoretically isn't up to me anyway. Also pregnancy does NOT turn me on. It grosses me out in general (i know i know, the miracle of life its beautiful, but it just weirds me out that someone's body is housing a child), so yeah. Besides, its hotter to me to be public use than domesticity.

HARD LIMITS:

No interest in actually medically detransitioning, no thank you, but if you want to misgender me feel free. I'd find it hotter if you're creative about it tho. I do have fantasies of being forced to detransition or being corrupted into it, but no fantasies i have an interest in experiencing.

Nothing involving people who didn't consent prior (thus nothing "risky" in public, outdoors is fine, but only with no risk of getting caught)

Nothing with feces. I want to eat ass someday but it better be clean.

With all this said, feel free to leave me a message or an ask or a task, or literally anything you want. If it violates my hard limits i'll ignore it, but I guess whatever if you send it. I've never sent someone a nude before, and I'm not theoretically against it, but I just have no experience yet, so its unlikely (at the moment).

[dirtyoldmanhole]

real dweeby navel gazing time

i think one of the reasons i am having genuinely, so much fun with this gunter slowburn fanfic despite sitting at a literal 53k words rn and with it probably being close to 90k all said and done, is it's ... writing the ship i see myself in the most by far on both sides.

like, ever.

this shit is the rawest most honest shit i've ever written.

i've talked a little bit about how corrin's memory wipe stuff is literally a 1:1 to my anesthesia/childhood surgery/physical therapy conga line of bullshit. even aside from the helpful textual 'here's how this works from a medical event standpoint' there's the 'here's the emotional scars that it will leave because yes it is a bodily/mind violation of a sense, over and over, and jesus all of this of this stuff goes so well thematically to the straight up fantasy bullshit of nohr with the underpinning of being hyper-aware to the themes of "power" "use" "what it takes to survive by emotionally dragging yourself through a minefield" etc. stuff i've been ruminating over since being conscious lol.

then my body's so whack from a physical joint perspective that there's also almost word for word conversations from gunter's side that i've had with my gf about how to navigate certian shit from a kink perspective but also like... how to maintain dignity when your body's kinda physically crapping out on you due to the march of time.... without loosing the sexytimes u know?

the concept of dignity in the face of being broken is a huge theme in this fic that gets echoed. very poignant for reasons you fates players know.

amusingly there's a scene near the end where corrin's helping him to shave after his stroke. (in one of fate's "clearly having a giggle at my expense" coincidences i've been in contact lately irl with somebody who's also gone through a stroke and man is it not easy) and it's this kind of perfect blend of she's helping him, technically, with something that could just be... god awful self loathing brainspace wise for him but it turns into this amazingly hot kink scene with some serious sizzling power exchange.

the dream, man!

there is a real thin line between being able to laugh at yourself *while* keeping that dignity to pointedly.... having to not look in the mirror some days. desire and shame being some real fucked up entangled wires too, in that sense.

the tumblr uwu approved discussions re: tricky medical/'my body is crapping out on me man and i can't hide it'/kink shit and having to be ~valid~ all the time gives me the hiiiiiveeeees man (and i'm not knocking it for other people, i know why it exists, but it sends my hackles up u feel).

and yet this fic still feels like, hot, in the fun sense.

there's enough fun whacko fantasy taboo elements in it that it doesn't feel .... oh no this ain't sexy this is Too Real, you feel, or too much like a trauma fic(tm)

there's the sexy yandere villain ossan (lol), corrin herself has one hell of a sex drive (and honestly that's yet another huge focus, that wish fufillment fantasy of this 'pure fragile princess chick that's fought over like a prize by everyone else' who gets to choose 'no i actually want the hot villain kthx'. she actually rants to him several times about being fought over and having everyone else from nohr/hoshido project all the shit on her.

(and him being all, I got you, I get it.)

he actually does!!!! that's the funniest darkest most ironic thing!! he's got that weird blend of being aware enough from a kink perspective and just 'went through enough shit' life perspective of why sometimes the most sacred, profound thing you can do for somebody is to break them when they ask for it. sometimes in the dark u just want the brain wires to go bzzt.

there is a weird as hell comraderie in the sense of facing very specific demons that only they have (which, again, hilariously, goes so well with the themes of revelation! invisible enemies/demons that only you two know about.)

and then i have like yet another essay in me about how literally every character i've RP'ed is a suspiciously similar to his whole... archetype.... like all of my RP partners have gravitated to playing the chicks in the het relationships and i've always RP'd the snarky older guy going through life snarking at shit and being a closet misanthrope (there's probably some presentation/gender-aligned stuff going there but this is already navel gazey as hell lol)

anyway

tl;dr i haz feelz

[zachattack311]

(The Storm Man - CNC fantasy, part 3)

He slowly forces inch after inch inside your mouth. Even with your jaw pulled all the way open, it's a tight fit, and you feel the texture of his veins as his thick member invades your mouth. As you feel his rough tip press up against the back of your throat, you look and see that there's still several inches left of him. You're surprised you're not gagging.

You try to pull his arm away, but he holds onto your head firmly. You punch and kick and squirm, but as you struggle he only grows larger in your mouth.

He slowly shoves himself further into your mouth, moving his the head of his penis even further down your throat, until your bottom lips rest against his scrotum, his testicles pressing up against your chin.

You have never felt so violated before, your mouth now reduced to nothing more than a cocksleeve, and yet his warmth is a welcome change from the cold rain. His hot, pulsating shaft warms your cold lips. Towering over you, he's blocking the storm from you, almost protectively.

He removes his hand from your chin - no need to hold your mouth open now that you've been forced to fully accept him - and begins softly massaging the base of your neck.

You realize he's actually massaging himself, as he's buried so deep in your throat that his tender presses on the outside of your throat are in turn pressing against his member, too. You look up at him with venom, hoping your hateful look will make him less aroused, but he simply glares down at you with a wild glint in his eye.

He continues to use your neck to stroke himself, grunting has he does so. He goes faster, thrusting his hips. It's hard for you to breathe with his meaty member blocking your airways, and you being to feel lightheaded.

Right before you feel about to pass out, lighning flashes and thunder roars in your ears. His member twitches inside you, and wave after wave of hot semen pumps into your throat. You don't get to taste it, as his tip has been forced well past your tongue, but you feel his thick seed fill your stomach. Wave after wave floods into you, and you wonder how much semen this man can hold. The lightheadedness continues, and just before you feel about to pass out, his manhood softens, allowing you to take a desperate breath for air.

He withdraws from you, slowly, his now-flaccid penis no longer pressing against the walls of your throat. You stare at it for a moment, and while it's still impressively long, you are bewildered at how large it just was. You are glad he emptied himself in your stomach instead of your vagina, and you sigh with relief knowing he won't be putting a child in you.

A takes a deep sigh of pleasure, and while he does so, you jump up and punch him in the stomach. He simply looks at you with surprise. He moves his arms, and before you realize what he's doing, he already has your torn shirt in his hands. Rain patterns on your bare breasts, your nipples stiff and erect as your body betrays you. You throw out a sucker punch to his face, but the blow doesn't even make him turn his head. He simply smiles.

He ducks and grabs you by your ankle, and picks you up. He spins you around like a toy, eventually letting go, sending you flying into the mud.

As you try to pick yourself out of the sticky mud, he slowly walks towards you. His member is already half erect, rising with every step he takes towards you, his prey. You realize that he was only getting started.

(Continued in part 4)

[annasmafroo]

BW for Brick? For the NSFW ask game!

heh thank you for asking about her! What comes to relationship between Brick and Finnean, they obviously can't have a classic romantic relationship we usually think about when talking about a couple. Well, Brick is a pretty much alive girl and Finn is a human soul trapped inside a weapon. Their bond at first is purely platonic but then they grow attached to each other so much that they kind of "sync" together, allowing their soul energies to intertwine which leads to Finnean, at least partially, being able to control Brick if she's using him as a weapon, and Brick being able to let Finn into her dreams and visions. CW: in the bottom under Wish are implications of sexual abuse, so if you don't wanna see that, i suggest you to stop reading after Bliss. B - Bliss -  How big is the “big o” for them? How easy it is to bring them to it?  Brick isn't too much into sexual stuff but y'know just sometimes she might be up for it and, oh boy, it is a wild ride. While it might be quite hard to bring her to completion, her orgasms are really wet and intense. Considering the fact that Finn and Brick only can get intimate while Brick sleeps and sees him as a human, it's like a literal wet dream. She wakes up to find herself in soaked sheets. Despite not being a living being anymore, Finnean is still pretty much as he was before turning into a weapon: he might be a weapon but a horny one. In these dreams Finn, may i say, is quite eruptive and is able to go multiple times as he wishes due to having no psychical body. Yet everything he feels is in fact real for him. W - Wish - What’s one of their wildest fantasies? In a dream world, yeah, Finn can breed Brick as much as he wants, but, no matter what, he can never make her carry his child, as he is incapable of that due to a lack of physical body. To impregnate her is a hot wild desire that can never be fulfilled. On Brick's side she is in painful urge to relive traumatic events: she wants to be pushed, dominated, violated and hurt. She doesn't want to enjoy this, it's more of a self-harm fantasy which she hides from everyone, including Finn.

[firstseasonlisazemo]

Steaming Flower Tea

Summary: Keith accidentally saw something he should not have, and now he cannot control himself any more. He goes after what he wants, with the help of a certain concoction.

Rating: R - Content features heavy themes. Not suitable for most audiences. Consult warnings before proceeding.

Depictions of non-consensual sexual activities. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Words: 1300

Notes: Heheh pervert Keith is fun Keith.

Keith clutches the damn vial of poison that will make his darling sister dripping wet, ready to be filled by the only person available to her.

He hates the idea. It is not poison, and any unpleasant effects the substance can cause are merely temporary and can be rapidly eased with proper treatment. Nevertheless, it is crass and beneath him to violate Catarina in such way, and if anyone figures out what he did, they certainly will partake of the same opinion.

He hates that he needs to resort to such dirty tricks, but his cock has been continuously and very much painfully hard for days. If he does not get to bury it in at least her hot, ragged breath, he might have to resort to more violent methods to get the frustration out of his system for the lack of a better way to calm himself.

It would be only natural, maybe, to spiral out of control. Keith knows the Royal Prisons were emptier than ever due to one of the prince’s running through them like paper dolls, and that a Wind magic user donned in black has been rounding up petty criminals up and down the capital with appalling brutality. Beautifully dangerous plants surround the Hunt family estate these days, thunderous and rageful symphonies and snuff books on obsessive lovers seem to be all the rage at the finest salons and they have even figured out some offensive uses to the Light alignment at the department recently. Maybe that is just what standing by someone so frustratingly loveable does to one’s sanity and sense of human dignity. Maybe it is only a matter of time before he tramples over the common folk with his clay golems and this is only a respite before the imminent and the inevitable, but, in comparison, he feels he stands in an anthill of a moral high ground, and it helps to assuage his guilt.

All of it, all this heinous plot, over a simple mistake. An unfortunate coincidence. Anne happened to forget the soap for her lady’s bath once in her long career and excused herself to get it, leaving the door just open enough for one to sneak a look inside without being noticed. Just when Keith was passing by the hallway, headed between his bedroom and his father’s study, in a lonely and ill-travelled part of the house.

There is no hope for him. Cold baths have not done anything for him ever since he began imagining Catarina alongside him. Bathing seems to be one of his most wholesome fantasies these days. It has to be done, there is no other option.

What he intends to feed her is not actual poison, indeed, but he knows it will cloud the mind and heat up the body to the point of pain. To the point where his sister will be writhing on the floor, desperate and sobbing in need. He could never get her on her knees, begging him to fuck her, he could never get her to understand, without a little extra help, and the thought of her hazy eyes alone is nearly sending him over the edge. No amount of hitting his head against a wall will banish the thought of tears brimming her eyes as she asks him to help her, to make the burning go away. To be the protector he swore to be. Nor will violence make the idea of her becoming a sloppy mess, moaning and screaming his name and no-one else’s, any less orgasm-inducing.

Anne is out for the night, sent away to fetch a precious and expensive confectionary that caught her lady’s eye on a village just half a day’s away from the capital. Just far enough to make it an overnight trip. The maid assigned to her place was young and inexperienced, she was not yet made aware how unadvisable it is to be infatuated with her masters.

It was much too easy to tamper with the food and drink going in and out of the lady’s room, almost concernedly so. He would have to look into it soon, but, for now, it played to his advantage.

There is already a wet stain on his pants when Keith enters her room, but he holds back until Catarina has a sip of her late-night tea before pouncing. He would have preferred a more natural approach to getting her the pleasure she deserves. Still, the least he can do is wipe the excess aphrodisiac from her lips and lick it off before crashing his mouth to hers. 

It is not even just for his pleasure. His dearest sister, well-fucked and satiated, will probably help let off some much-needed steam for both of them. She can scratch, bite, and punch him as much as she wants, but nothing takes away the stress like a good mingling of bodies and a proper pounding. The young master shall not rest until enough orgasms leave her that she is barely alive in his arms, only to push her into another one for good measure.

There is nothing more erotic than her limb body, drool dripping from her mouth with the incoherent gargles, and the knowledge that he did that to her. That it was Keith that sent her to the afterlife and brought her back with just his efforts and his cock.

And, well, good old aphrodisiac.

Yes, he will make an addict of her, make her fixated on him as he is fixated on her, and he has enough drug and stamina to make this vision come through. After all of this is through, he will make it so that their parents find out, accidentally, of course, what they had been doing behind their backs. He will corner the duke into changing the nature of his adoption and scandalize the king into dissolving her engagement. He will make it so that she has no other option than himself.

She will be well taken care of. It will all be worth it when Catarina still remembers the feeling of his cock filling her days later, the man not touching her and keeping his visits short. When in the weak, lonely moments, his adoring gaze fills her mind, making her body throb with the desire to do it again. To have him on top of her, sweating, smiling sweetly, telling her how much he loves her and how perfect she is while he absolutely wrecks her body with his desire. The way his cock filled her completely, hitting all the good spots and making her cum continuously, fluids dripping from her as if she were loose, even though she was just filled to the brim, even though no man has even touched her before himself.

She will even get turned on from remembering the room smelling like two pigs in heat got it on for hours after hours filled with confessions and orgasms. It is all so shameful to admit, and her naïve maidenhood will despise the hold these memories have on her brain, but she will not be able to avoid touching herself as she imagines her own brother consuming her entirely once more, her hands never enough.

She raises the cup of tea, a smile and a greeting on her lips as she looks over to him by her door. The maid has already retired, leaving them alone. He will have to reward her, but that is for another night. It is time to bring forward his vision.

Catarina might suffer, she might be too ashamed to ask for his help, and that is regrettable, but Keith already has a second vial in his desk drawer waiting for her, just in case she does not have the courage to be honest with herself without his help.

*_*_*_*_*

My Next Life as a Villainess Masterlist

[ningningkittie]

ok but why is it ok for thousands (millions) of ppl to openly talk about how much they hate women, and how women deserve to be raped and tortured.. that's like a totally ok thing to do... the internet is full of images and videos depicting brutal violence against women (most often commited by men) and ppl just get off to it and genuinely think that violence against women is hot and sexy and cool and ok (like most of y'all do this ngl).... BUT... when i say that im terrified of men and never wanna be near one and wanna live on an island with only women so i can have a real life, then im a feminazi bitch cunt who.. deserves to be raped and tortured by men? 🤨 not only is my thoughts nothing but a DREAM, bc take a look at most women in the world... they're satisfied with this, they're ok with living like this, they even enjoy getting off to being raped and murdered and tortured... they'll NEVER want to go to a safe place without men, bc who are they when they're not being abused? they would never ever agree or want to live in a place i dream of. so it wont ever happen. but im not even allowed to merely SAY that oh i wish u couldbe safe and comfortable in a fantasy island with only me and other women... then im basically evil and mean and im a horrible fucking cunt who should get gangraped and abused by men because thats all i deserve... i KNOW thats all my and all other womens worth is, i already know that, and that is why i DREAM of a place free from that where im allowed to be only a humanbeing living my life. like everyone on tumblr are comfortably sharing their thoughts about how they want to and enjoy humiliating, degrading, beating,murdering, raping, abusing torturing etc etc women and thats normal. ppl are like im omg ilyyyyy 💘 everyone on here share images of women being abused and thats normal!!!! but im not even allowed to say that wow maybe i dont like feeling like all i deserve is to be pissed on spat at ass raped gangbanged just because i have a slimy gash between my legs!!!!! i hate women on here too bc they wouldnt even give two fucks about the abuse me or any other woman around them have gone thru. bc as women we ARE cunts whose only worth is being raped and violated by men. brother im so fucking alone and most of all thats what fucks me up. humanity is TRASH and i hate every fucking worthless pos in this earth, i just want one person just one person. i feel so lonely so even if i had a bf who wanted to beat me and hit me and piss on me and rape my ass or whatever i'd still love him as longas he wanted me and only me and was also sweet. like i couldnt love someone who ONLY treated me bad. but sadly the truth is that as a woman i dont have any other worth besides having a hole 💔💔💔💔💔 ok three holes. thats very sad and i wish i had been born as a man so i couldve had a real life and be seen as a person but the universe is cruel. i hate men for raping and abusing us and getting of to it, i hate other women bc they enjoy it and like it but i just cannot bring myself to do what they do. i wish i could be as braindead and love it too but idk how they do it 😔

[sasorikigai]

"Alright, hot head, calm down! Or do I have to use this on you?" Wanda held up the nozzle of the fire extinguisher, pointing it at Hanzo. She had pulled the pin out and was ready and waiting to put his flames out. 

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @hexsreality || always accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Love has always been the thing with sharp teeth and burnt skin; there always has been so much blood - if wrath and vengeance was an altar, Scorpion was the embodiment of a perfect zealot, an unrelenting devotee that would eternally and senselessly fulfill the grotesque and gruesome desire. It may have been tragically beautiful to Hanzo Hasashi, but it is furthermore terrifying and traumatic, for Scorpion to think upon the exacerbating dread and despair that would follow, at his once-mortal limitations, vulnerability, and pathetic helplessness.

Such futile satisfaction would come through the vile, visceral act of breaking his victims' ribs, prying their chests open with his own roughened bloody hands and start violating things inside to scoop out the gory cavity. Perhaps the hellish demon in his mind had been the ever-hungry heart-beast. Even this, nothing could fill the unfathomable void, proven unfillable, instead of being just unfilled. How Scorpion feels, to be left alone with this aggravating emptiness, even with this hope of his gruesome fantasies for comfort as his still human, rational heart struggled against the unyielding resolve of adamant grasp of the Netherrealm.

"I cannot escape my rage, for there is a pain in me that will never be quietened. I choke it to death, beat it until it bleeds, I light it on blazing hellfire, I even attempt to tuck it and love it. I abandon it for a few days and sit it with my back turned. But it grows, grows, and grows like the unquenchable flames of the Nether. It will not go away," Hanzo's gripping, yet desperate gaze remains immovable - as if time itself had been frozen - as his pulsing heartbeat matches that of the undulating hellfire that courses through him. No longer, Scorpion encompasses the wide warm sky with halcyon peace and serenity. The volatility of his vehement emotions become the very seed of conflagration that would cause wildfire in the wind of his despair and grief.

After all, he was the reason why his everything had been taken away from him. And this everlasting heaviness crushes him quietly as his cold stare narrows. Challenging.

"I did not think of you foolish enough, to dare think that a mere fire extinguisher would hollow me out of my fire. It will only burst you asunder and melt you like wax." ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

[darthstitch]

Professor Mysterious and Professor Wet Cat

This is my take on that Dreamling post making the rounds about Hob and Dream being uni professors and that Hob is surprisingly NOT the prof who overshares and Dream is the one who inadvertently does.

Buckle up, kids, let's have some fun with this. Also, gentle reminder: NOBODY TELL NEIL. SHHHH!

This time around, Hob's using his proper name, Robert Gadling, because it's been a while since he's trotted that one out and he kinda likes the seeming rightness that the once upon a time near-illiterate medieval peasant that he'd been was now teaching at a rather prestigious university. However, he's not prone to sharing much about his personal life to his students. He's still warm and friendly, but he's cautious about letting Certain Things slip.

Hilariously, the things that do slip end up making him everyone's favorite university cryptid. Sometimes Hob slips into Middle English when he's stressed or emotional. Sometimes he might use odd old-fashioned sounding oaths like "God's wounds," "Holy Jesu," and "Mother Mary's teats" (this last one sends everyone into spasms of laughter).

The literature department ADORES him because they can always drag Professor Gadling off to read Chaucer in its original form or even medieval French, his pronunciation perfect and dead on. Shakespeare is the only thing he'll flat out refuse to read because in any universe this Fuzzy Blue Alien's gonna write, his hatred of the Bard is the stuff of legend.

The students universally agree that Professor G is basically British Indiana Jones, because he's also known to have lethal expertise in medieval weapons. There's been more than a few fantasies inspired during the booked-solid outdoor demonstrations where he works in tandem with the other medieval history professors to show everyone how medieval weapons worked. Apparently, his favorite weapons are the longbow, the bastard sword and daggers.

Obviously, this all leads to Professor Gadling being the campus crush and his relationship status is a matter of hot speculation even if he's made it perfectly clear he was not about to violate his ethical standards or position as a teacher. It still doesn't stop the fevered fantasies of more than a few grad students, though. But that's all they're gonna get.

And then, there's the new literature teacher, Professor T. Murphy.

To everyone's disappointment, Professor Murphy is only going to be at the university for a limited series of lectures. Word of mouth spread fast, and his classes were now booked solid and he was going to be asked to return, once his apparently very busy schedule is cleared.

7. Of course, he's an instant campus crush, with the "Goth angel" looks, the Edward Cullen jokes are definitely flying and there's more than a few students melting after they heard him speak. "That Voice" is always referred to in capital letters and it's well deserved.

8. "Campus crush" turns to "Official Precious Blorbo" once the students all discover that behind the whole regal and imperious Goth Prince vibe that he gave off, was an adorkable darling wet cat who was just completely gone on "my beloved." If he's discussing a love sonnet or poem, there's definitely going to be a reference to "my beloved" or "my dearest" or "my love." It's never sickeningly cloying and the sweet tiny little smile that takes over his normally serious face is like sunshine. The kilig feels are real.

9. He's also forever worrying that he's not enough for "my dearest" as he's rather painfully aware "of my lack in human graces" - which everyone translates to "OMG HELP I HAVE THE SOCIAL SKILLS OF A SCRUNKLY WET CAT." He frets that he's somehow failing his beloved, who is infinitely sweet and thoughtful and caring and that Professor Murphy is the selfish one, really, who doesn't deserve the man.

10. The students, of course, immediately ADOPT him. Tesco ice cream runs are done, YouTube videos on cooking and invites to kitchens are extended so Professor Murphy could practice making something that is "not a catastrophic culinary disaster unfit for human consumption." There was a session on the language of flowers, which everyone had enjoyed. For a while, flowers with significant meanings were presented to sweethearts and lovers all over the uni. There's an unforgettable after-class meeting in which the craft-inclined students teach Professor Murphy how to knit and crochet and he was really rather proud of the scarf he had created.

11. Professor Murphy's raven had been rather entertained playing with the yarn scraps. The students learn that the raven's name is Matthew.

12. And then, dashing, mysterious Professor Gadling finally peeks into Professor Murphy's class.

"The things I do for you, myne owne hertis rote. Bloody Shaxberd."

"But you do read him so very well, my love." And there it was, that tiny, soft, sweet smile, now aimed in Professor Gadling's direction.

Professor Gadling sighs and puts a hand over his chest. There's a very familiar scarf draped over his neck. "God's wounds, dove, warn your poor, long-suffering husband before you do these things."

"What 'things,' dearest?"

Professor Gadling waves his arms helplessly. The scarf slips a little, offering a tantalizing view of a purplish mark on his throat. "That thing!" He looks appealingly at the students, who are now all stifling their delighted giggles. "Look at him! My heart can only take so much!"

And that was how everyone found out that Professors Gadling and Murphy were actually happily married.

Incidentally, the Shakespeare reading, in which both professors took part, was a true kilig apocalypse. Instant campus legend.

[clueleles]

what’s the point of fighting back if you won’t win anyway?

pairing :: johnny x reader

genre :: smut

warnings :: implied cnc (consensual nonconsent), degradation, unprotected sex, breeding

happy johnny day!

it used to terrify him – the way he wanted it. the fear in your eyes, the tears running down your face, and the loud sobs slipping past your lips. the way he would vividly daydream about how obscene of a scene it would be, to use you, to violate you, over and over again while you try to run from his touch. he used to keep these shameful fantasies under lock and key, only to be opened in the dark of his bedroom, with his hand wrapped around his cock and his head thrown back on his bed. it used to terrify him, but now johnny swears this is what you were made for.

johnny fights off the smile pulling at his lips. you look perfect like this. helpless. drooling. taking it all like a fucking whore even as you beg for him to stop.

what’s the point of fighting back if you won’t win anyway?

“stop, johnny, please –” your slur out, voice painfully raw, lips pink, wet, and bitten raw. you’re trembling. “please, please, please –”

johnny feels his dick twitch inside you as you clench your walls around him, reveling in the way you dig your nails into his back, leaving angry red lines that he hopes are flecked with blood. you won’t stop fucking crying, you won’t stop fucking lying. johnny threads his fingers in your hair and tugs hard. “you want me to stop? you really want me to stop when you were fucking begging for it earlier?”

“i’m sorry –” you whisper, rasping, face a mess of tears and drool. “johnny, i’m sorry, i’m –”

johnny laughs, pulls his hand from your hair and watches the way your eyes flare the moment his hand connects with your cheek. he leans down, pressing his lips on yours and tastes blood. you're still trembling. it's fear. it's desire. he could hit you again and you'd still want more.

johnny sneers, slams his hips down harder, fucking you like the goal is to push you into unconsciousness. "you think saying sorry will help you now?”

whimpers and breathy moans leave your lips and a line of hot fire shoots up his spine. god, he's close. the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock is a fucking wonder he knows he'll never tire of. so warm, so wet, so tight.

“it hurts,” you sob, and johnny's hips stutter before he's coming inside, filling you to the uttermost.

you're a dirty fucking liar.

“oh, that’s too bad, baby,” he whispers. “should’ve fucking thought about it before you made me mad.”