#female fertility testing for women

[ivflondon]

Female Fertility MOT: What It Is & Why It Matters | IVF London

Explore the Female Fertility MOT to assess your fertility health and plan your IVF journey with expert care at IVF London.

[generation-fertility]

Discover your path to improved reproductive health with Generation Fertility Assessments. Choose the right fertility test and receive personalized care tailored to you.

[nmevahealth]

Pap Smears versus HPV Tests: Exploring Ladies' Wellbeing Screening Choices in Mumbai

Safeguarding your wellbeing begins with early discovery, and with regards to ladies' wellbeing, cervical disease screening is a vital stage. In India, with cervical malignant growth, cervical cancer screening being the third most normal disease (123,907 cases) and the subsequent driving reason for death, it is vital to go to proactive lengths. This is where Pap spreads and HPV tests come in as useful assets for early finding and avoidance.

Figuring out the Distinction:

Pap Smear (Pap Test): This conventional test checks for unusual cell changes in the cervix that might actually prompt cervical malignant growth. Early discovery through a pap smear essentially increments fix rates. A Pap smear can likewise distinguish changes in your cervical cells that propose disease might foster from here on out. In ladies more seasoned than age 30, the Pap test might be joined with a test for human papillomavirus (HPV), a typical physically communicated contamination that can cause cervical malignant growth. At times, the HPV test might be finished rather than a pap smear.

HPV Test: This test recognizes the presence of human papillomavirus (HPV) that can cause cervical cell changes whenever left untreated. Not all HPVs cause disease, yet certain high-risk strains increment the gamble fundamentally. HPV is an exceptionally normal infection. A few specialists believe it's nearly basically as normal as the chilly infection. HPV immunizations can forestall disease with the kinds of HPV probably going to cause malignant growth.

Co-testing for Improved Security:

In Mumbai, driving medical services habitats like NM Eva offer extensive malignant growth screening packages that join both Pap spreads and HPV tests. This "co-testing" approach gives a more complete image of your cervical wellbeing.

NM Eva's Full Cancer Checkup Package: This package incorporates a Pap smear, HPV recognition, and HPV composing to distinguish patients in danger of cervical malignant growth. This blend offers:

Early discovery: Pap spreads distinguish precancerous cell changes, while HPV tests recognize the presence of high-risk strains, considering early mediation.

Further developed exactness: HPV testing can affirm whether unusual cell changes found in a Pap smear are brought about by high-risk HPV, considering designated treatment or follow-up.

Genuine serenity: Knowing your HPV status and having the two tests done decreases nervousness and gives a more clear comprehension of your gamble.

NM Eva: Your Go-To for Ladies' Wellbeing in Mumbai:

Cutting edge innovation: Outfitted with cutting edge offices, NM Eva furnishes exact and solid HPV testing with clear estimating and quick times required to circle back in Mumbai.

Straightforwardness and reasonableness: Focused on understanding consideration, NM Eva offers straightforward test expenses and endeavors to make great administrations open to all ladies in Mumbai.

Assuming Command over Your Wellbeing:

Cervical disease is generally preventable when gotten early. Try not to defer your wellbeing. Plan your Pap smear and HPV test today. NM Eva's complete disease screening package is intended to engage ladies in Mumbai with significant data and proactive consideration.

[repromedca]

Fertility Test Canada - In order to learn more about your fertility health during your initial visit, your doctor will want to supplement your current medical history with a few additional tests. In order to provide you with individualised treatment options, this may necessitate that you and your family undergo specific testing.

[sharklovingaquarist]

Next time a man complains about men's mental health Imma hit em with the time I got denied potentially life saving psychiatric drugs for bipolar disorder because I was a "woman of childbearing age" (I was 16)

But its Ok now I have pills with "STOP TAKING THIS IF YOU GET PREGNANT OR THE FETUS WILL EXPLODE EVEN THO WE NEVER TESTED THIS ON THE FEMALE BODY AND THINK A FETUS IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU" on every surface of the case

The fertility field, women's health, and general health concerning a woman all makes me so incredibly uncomfortable idc what other women say. Yall focus on women like stock while man is just "a human teehee". What if those meds effect sperm quality?!?! You need to be a daddy yknow!

[gloomwitchwrites]

Remember that time I said last one? Oops...

What If 141...trying for baby. Rawr.

I remember when you said it would be your last one. And no "oops"! You know what you've done. And trying for baby? Are you trying to activate my breeding kink?

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings: swearing, established relationship, oral sex (male & female receiving), fertility treatment, dirty talk, breeding, creampie, arranged marriage, Viking AU, Post-Apocalyptic AU, dubcon (Ghost only), rough kissing, desk sex

Word Count: 4.6k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: needs help obtaining a "sample" for fertility treatment. John "Soap" MacTavish: an arranged marriage Viking AU. Simon "Ghost" Riley: given to Ghost for "breeding" purposes, Post-Apocalypse AU (dubcon). John Price: ovulation leads to surprise sex at work.

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Your foot tap tap taps against the linoleum floor.

Kyle is in another room—a private room. The reproductive endocrinologist you’re working with already ran your tests. Now it’s Kyle’s turn. They want a sample, but he’s been gone too long.

You’re no stranger to Kyle’s masturbation sessions. Rarely does he do it alone. He likes when you watch. But he never takes this long.

A buzzing comes from your purse. Retrieving your phone, you check the message.

It’s from Kyle.

I can’t do it.

Frowning, you stare at the text, confusing creeping in. Gripping the phone in your fist, you push up from your chair, and exit the small exam room.

“Excuse me,” you say, approaching the nurses station. “Can you tell me what room my husband is in. He’s collecting a…sample.”

The two nurses exchange a knowing look.

“All the way down the hall. Last door on the left,” one of them directs, pointing.

“Thank you.”

You try not to rush, but your feet carry you swiftly and with purpose. Following the nurse’s direction, you come to a stop right outside the correct door.

“Kyle?” you call out, knocking.

There’s a brief pause, but then the door opens, and your husband stands there, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry, love,” shrugs Kyle, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Can I come in?”

He glances back into the room and then steps aside, holding the door open.

You step into the small space. It’s clinical and cold. There is one window on the opposite side of the room with the blinds down. Next to the window is a lounge chair that looks completely uncomfortable. Next to it is a table of magazines with partially-nude women on the front. Beside that is a row of video selections if the magazines don’t seem to do the trick.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. Kyle slumps into the chair, clearly defeated. You place your purse on the hook and then kneel beside him. “Talk to me.”

Kyle shakes his head. “I—can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

He nods toward his groin. “Doesn’t seem all that interested.”

Oh. Oh.

You glance around the room, and then turn back to him. “Let me help.”

The confusion on his face is entirely too funny. “Help me?”

Shifting on your knees, you settle between his legs. The confusion melts away, and Kyle leans back in the chair, his hips flexing slightly as he makes himself comfortable.

The front of his jeans is already loose, and it’s not difficult to ease them down a bit more. Your hand slips beneath the band of his boxer briefs. The moment your fingers wrap around him, Kyle softly groans, eyelids fluttering as you start to stroke him.

“Is the door locked?” he asks, voice already turning husky.

“Does that matter?” you counter. “Do you care that someone might walk in? That they’ll see me pleasuring my husband?”

His softened cock begins to harden, and your words only spur him on. With another few strokes, Kyle is rock hard and throbbing. Adjusting your position, you release his cock, and then grab hold of his boxer brief, yanking them down until he’s free of it.

Kyle’s heavy lids open at the same moment your mouth suctions around the head. Tongue swirling around the crown, you take a bit more of him into your mouth. Retreating, you hollow your cheeks, suctioning until you come off him with a wet pop.

“How’s this?” you ask.

“Much better,” he replies, reaching for you.

Kyle’s hand finds the back of your head, and you grin as he urges you back.

Taking him into your mouth again, your throat him completely, bobbing up and down his cock with intention. You need him to come. Not in your mouth, but in the goddamn sample cup. If that means you need to suck him off to do it, you’ll happily do so.

While you’d love to give into to pleasing him utterly, you still have to focus on why you’re doing this. The cup is on the table beside him. The seal is unbroken. The lid still on.

Hollowing your cheeks again, you suck—hard—and then release him.

His breathing is heavy, and his thighs are tense. Kyle is close, and you’re not going to ruin this by having him come down your throat.

“The cup, Kyle.”

Kyle runs his hand over the top of his head, the lust-tinged haze retreating slightly as he reaches for it. He twists the lid, breaking the seal, and sets it aside, holding the plastic cup in a vice grip.

Returning to him, you throat him again, bringing your hand into the mix.

“Fuck,” whispers Kyle. Then, louder, “fuck.”

Saliva pools in your mouth and slips past your lips, dripping onto your hand as you continue your ministrations.

“Fuck,” he bites out. “Back, love. Back off.”

You immediately release him, retreating.

Kyle grips his cock and aims it, bringing the cup in close. He strokes once. Twice. And then his entire body shakes as he explodes, emptying his release into the cup.

Wiping the back of your hand over your mouth, you push up to standing using the armrest of the chair. Kyle is smiling—almost smug.

“Did I help?” you tease, and his grin only widens.

John Price

"What's wrong?" John's voice is laced with concern. You rarely come to see him at work. "Everything okay? The guard at the front gate paged me. Said you were here.”

Whenever you’re around him, John’s entire demeanor changes. It doesn’t matter that he’s at work. You’re here, and that takes priority.

As he approaches, John reaches out with both hands. They seek, grabbing hold of your upper arms just above the elbow. He draws you close, his head tilting forward slightly as his gaze intensifies, focusing on you.

“Can we go somewhere quiet?” you ask, briefly glancing over his shoulder.

There are members of his team lingering in the background. Though they talk quietly with each other, they keep glancing this way.

“Of course,” murmurs John. Placing one arm over your shoulders, he turns back to the rest of his team. “Give me a few minutes,” he says to them, before leading you away.

The entire walk to his office, John keeps one hand on you at all times. He doesn’t say much, only stopping to briefly address others that pass.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks again once the door is shut.

“Is it locked?”

John blinks. “Is what locked?”

You reach past him and fiddle with the handle. Frowning, John gently grasps your wrist and locks the door. “What—”

But the question never comes. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him to your lips, claiming his mouth in desperation. John groans softly, returning your kisses with equal enthusiasm. His hands fall upon your hips, squeezing, drawing you closer.

“You didn’t come just to kiss me,” murmurs John, retreating just enough to allow a sliver of space.

“No,” you breathe. “I’m ovulating.”

“Is that what your app says?" he teases.

You hum an agreement and John pushes in, guiding you backward toward his desk. You don't feel the wood until he lifts, and places you atop it. Leaning back, you spread your legs and present yourself.

“Open your present,” you tease, nodding toward the length of your body.

You came prepared. The large coat is made to go down to your knees, hiding everything when buttoned and tied. John reaches out. Tugging, he releases the band, and then he goes for the buttons, popping them open one by one.

He pushes the coat wide, and a growl escapes him. “You’ve been walking around base in nothing but a bloody coat?”

“And boots,” you add, kicking your feet.

Grabbing your thighs, John drags you to the edge of the desk. You greedily shimmy the coat off your shoulders.

His fingers explore, trailing over inner thigh to exposed pussy. One finger parts you, and then sinks in easily.

“Fucking hell, love,” he groans as he inserts another finger. “Already so wet for me.”

“Couldn’t wait,” you moan as John’s thumb rubs softly against your clit.

Another pump and then his fingers are gone. Through the haze, you watch as John undoes the front of his pants. He pushes them down just enough for his thick cock to spring free. Reaching for him, you stroke his cock, only for John to drag you close and align himself.

With one sharp thrust, John enters to the hilt. Keeping one hand on your right thigh, and the other planted firmly on the desk, John begins to thrust. It’s not a soft, gentle rhythm, but sharp and heavy. Every time your pelvis makes contact with his abdomen, the desk squeaks loudly.

“So fucking wet,” mutters John, his eyelids closing slightly as he gives in to the pleasure. “When I come home tonight, you better be naked. On your back. And in our bed.”

With your elbows propping you up, your head falls back in ecstasy as John returns his attention to your clit, circling it in soft strokes that send ripples of pleasure outward.

"I needed you," you groan.

"Greedy thing," purrs John, slipping an arm behind your back and lifting.

Your arms drape over his shoulders, one hand grasping his neck as John adjusts you into a new position. At this angle, you're held tightly against him. John firmly squeezes your ass with both hands.

He drives into you, the legs of the desk scraping against the carpet. A curling, buzzing sensation bubbles up, twisting low in your belly. The orgasm creeps up quickly, surging forward. Your nails dig into John's neck, and a throat moan escapes you.

John silences you with a kiss, swallowing that sound for himself, his hands gripping you so tightly you're sure he'll leave bruises behind.

With a low grunt, John holds you to him, sealing your bodies together. A warmth floods your pussy, his cum coating your insides.

"Think we made a baby?" teases John, nipping at your bottom lip.

"Not sure."

"Better try again then." He rocks his hips, and you whimper.

"You told your team you'd only be a few minutes."

He shrugs. "They can wait."

John "Soap" MacTavish

The youth of maidenhood is shed.

Your kransen is delicately wrapped in cloth and tucked away for a future daughter. The bridal crown you wore during the ceremony is still on your head. A delicate thing made of interwoven bands of silver; its shine slightly eclipsed by flakes of dried goat blood upon the metal. The droplets that landed on your face are long gone, cleaned by cold water and cloth.

Belly full from feasting, and skin buzzing with the consumption of mead, there is nothing left of the evening but the small dark of your new home, of the bedroom you will now share with your husband.

Anticipation is like a hidden viper. The women of your family told you all that would happen after, explained it in detail so that you would understand. You are eager to experience the good, but also know that your new husband might be completely inept.

You don't believe that to be the case though. During the ceremony he appeared calm and kind. He led but was not overbearing, and during the feast, he made sure your plate and glass were full before he even thought of himself. If that is how the marriage starts, then that must be what it is to come.

You hear your name, and you turn.

Your husband stands in the doorway, still in his wedding attire. He softly shuts the door behind him and finds the nearest chair, sinking down into it to remove his boots. Once off, he groans softly, standing again, removing the fur cape and draping it over the back of the chair.

He removes a few other articles of clothing until he's in nothing but his tunic and trousers. He saunters over, fingers lightly brushing against the hemline of your dressing gown.

"There is still blood on your face," you observe. "Let me wash it away."

"No," he says. "Reminds me of a good fight. I can imagine that you’re my war prize."

You laugh, and he smiles. In a way, you are a war prize. Your two clans have been feuding for years. This marriage is a way to make peace.

"Is being your wife not enough?" you tease.

"It is."

His fingers catch on the neckline, pulling the loose fabric over one shoulder. Leaning forward, he places a kiss between neck and shoulder. You shiver, one hand reaching out for him.

"We don't,” he begins but you shake your head.

"It's fine. I... want to."

He cradles your cheek in his palm. It is warm. Comforting. You sigh and lean into it.

The kiss is soft and delicate. There is nothing demanding in it. It is simple and pure. Even in this, he is not pushing. You follow his lead, giving a little more each time until you're reaching for him, hands pressing firmly against his chest.

He sighs, and then the gentle softness recedes, and the kisses deepen. Both of his hands hold your face. You are trapped but it feels wonderful. You give in, pressing your bodies together beside the fire, only understanding and learning these things about one another.

He removes the crown from your head, gently placing it aside.

The dress falls away and you are left bare. His gaze observers but it's brief. John's hands rest on your hips. They squeeze gently, guiding you backward. The soft furs brush that backs of your legs, and then John guides you down onto the bed, relishing every touch and kiss until you're breathless.

Is this how it's supposed to be? Will it always be like this?

John gives you one last kiss before pulling away, standing at full height, towering over you. He removes the last of his garment, his gaze never leaving your prone form. And you are unable to look away either, everything about him an enticing offer you don't wish to walk away from.

All muscle. All strength.

You reach out, grasping the one thing that now belongs to you. John groans softly as you make contact, wrapping your fingers around it. This is new to you, and you're not sure what you're supposed to do with it.

You gently stroke, thumb gracing the underside. John makes another small sound and you know you're on the right path. You sit up a bit, questioning whether you should taste him. The urge is too strong. You lean in, the tip of your tongue swirling over the head.

"No," he growls, grasping the back of your neck. "I won't last if you do that."

He guides you back and then starts to kneel, covering your body with his. You're on your back and he drapes himself across, hands roaming, exploring. His mouth descends, and then it is you making little sounds of pleasure.

"You can know me that way," he murmurs. "But first." His mouth descends and licks between your thighs, teasing and tasting until you're undone with pleasure, hips bucking off the bed and pressing against his mouth.

His hand glides over your stomach. "But first," he repeats. "We have a son to make."

He slides between your legs, guiding your legs wide. The head of him enters, and then there is a quiet sting that shudders through you.

"Breathe," he murmurs. "Relax."

You sigh, follow his instruction. The sting evaporates, and he retreats a bit before adding more. The stretch is tight but no longer painful. Each gentle thrusts gives you more before he's fully seated inside.

Your hands start at his waist and then explore to his back, down to just above his buttocks to ascend at his shoulders. John's forearms rest on either side of your head, his forehead coming to rest against your own. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, lips nearly touching as he rolls his hips, thrusting lightly.

"How long will it take?" he asks, rocking against, this time with a little more force. "If I keep you here, beneath me, full of my cock. How long?"

He thrusts again, and your whole body clings to him, the friction unbearably good. Your only response is a whimper.

His lips lightly brush over yours and then your chin.

"Should I tie you to this bed? Use the leathers that hold my armor together." He nips at your shoulder. "I can pretend you are my war prize."

"I am your war prize," you breathe, as he thrusts in earnest.

"Aye. You are. Separate clans. A marriage for peace. An enemy no longer."

Your arms tighten around him. You are pinned beneath him, unable to move, and yet completely willing in satiating both your desires.

You are lost to his movements, of the fullness, of the growing pleasure that is seconds from exploding outward. He rocks his hips forward, his pelvis pressing against that tender flesh.

You clench down, drowning in a wave that consumes.

You hear his inhalation, feel his muscles bunching under your hands, and then he's grinding forward, keeping still as he floods your womb with warmth.

But he does not pull out. Does not retreat. Instead, he kisses you softly, hips rocking before you feel that fullness blooming again.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The world is fractured. Broken.

And you have been thrust right into the thick of it. Taken by people unknown, signed off and given to a stranger.

Lieutenant Simon Riley.

Your new...what? Husband? Minder?

He stands before you, arms at his sides, observing but not speaking. As if pulled directly from duty, he's still in his all-black fatigues. The weapons are gone. They rest on the small table in the kitchen area of the tiny apartment.

But you smell blood on him. Musk. The dirt and grime of the brutality that is now home to the last remaining humans.

"What?" you snap, his gaze unnerving.

The defensiveness is just an illusion—a coping mechanism.

Simon wears a black balaclava, and all you can make out about him are his eyes. They are deep pools of dark brown that reflect the light like whiskey in a clear bottle. He is tall too and solid muscle.

The idea of him pinning you to the bed, of his weight keeping you in place as he has his way with you, makes your pussy clench involuntarily. You shouldn’t feel that way—to think of him as anything but your captor.

"You understand what's happened?" he asks.

Yes.

"I'm to be your whore."

You notice the slight twitch at the corner of Simon's eye at the word.

"Neither of us wanted this," he replies slowly, his gaze just as languid as it surveys your body.

"Winning me over with your charm," you mutter.

Simon grunts, and then brushes past you into the bathroom. He shuts the door and seconds later you hear the shower running.

Making a run for it isn't an option. The moment you leave, they'll be after you. Would they take you away from Simon? Give you to someone else? Or would they just think you're too much trouble and a bullet would be a mercy.

Your thoughts race, and when Simon emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a towel, you're momentarily stunned into silence. It is not just his body that is hard but everything about him. And now, you have a clear view of his face. He is handsome. Pleasing to the eye even with the scars.

Maybe it won't be all bad.

"It's all yours." He nods toward the bathroom where steam slowly rolls out through the crack in the door.

You follow suit, washing away the stress of the day.

Emerging is the hard part. There are no clothes for you to change in to, but that's the point. You are to remain in this apartment, stay in his bed, and allow Simon to breed you until there's no doubt you carry his child.

All the lights are off except for one. The bedroom isn't a separate room but an area sectioned off by a large curtain. From behind the curtain is a dim glow. You head for it, towel wrapped around body like armor. You push it back only to find Simon reclining, the top sheet covering his lower-half as he reads from a folder.

The rings on the curtain clink and he glances up. Simon closes the folder and tosses it off to the side.

That needy feeling returns. You shouldn’t indulge it or yourself, but it is there, lingering beneath the surface.

For a time, there is only silence, the two of you simply staring at each other.

"Are you joining me?" Simon finally asks.

You sigh. "I have to."

"You do," he agrees. You don't move closer. "I won't hurt you."

"Very reassuring,” you mutter, clutching the towel tighter.

Simon runs his hand through his hair. “Either we do this or you’re given to someone else. Did they tell you that?”

“I know the expectation.”

Simon leans forward into a more seated position. “Then you know I can keep you safe.”

It’s not untrue. You are his now.

You gaze narrows. “You don’t even know me.”

"I know you're going to carry my son or daughter. And that bloody well fucking matters to me."

"Will I?"

"You will."

You clutch the towel to you tighter, unable to part with it. Simon’s gaze remains unmoved. It is an intensity that worms its way inside, slithering beneath your skin to curl around your ribs. Every bit of him is on full display. Your mind drifts—imagining what might be underneath the sheet.

It’s not what you want for yourself, but there are worse men in this compound. There are worse fates. He’s not particularly happy about the arrangement either, something the two of you have in common. But he’s not ugly, and hasn’t been brutish.

Simon sighs, and it sounds like defeat.

He reaches across himself, turning off the small light next to the bed, plunging the two of into darkness.

“Better?”

You grumble but drop the towel. In the dark, your nakedness feels less isolating. As you step up to the bed, you glimpse Simon’s shadow as he draws the bedding back to give you space to slip in.

The bedsheets are cold, and as your grab them to cover yourself and create space, Simon’s hand comes down on your waist, dragging you close to him.

Your hand darts out, pressing against his chest.

Simon gently grasps your wrist and guides your hand away from his chest. "Said I wouldn't hurt you."

"I know," you murmur.

He smells clean and fresh, not like the dirt and blood from earlier. And yet, he feels dangerous, his hold an intense grip that teases surrender and tells you to give in.

What will he do with you?

Will he simply put you on your back?

Will you just have to take it?

Simon lightly squeezes, and then his hand descends, exploring. It lingers on your upper thigh, and then travels upward, learning the curve of your hip and angles of your arm. Simon cups one breast, thumb brushing over the nipple.

A little shudder follows that stroke. A sigh passes your lips and Simon shifts closer.

"I won't hurt you," he murmurs.

Simons’ teeth graze the hardening peak, as you groan loudly, surprised at how your body reacts to him. Answering with a groan of his own, Simon’s other hand delves between your thighs.

Exploring your sex, Simon’s fingers part your pussy, navigating and learning as much as he can. One finger plays with your clit as another teases your entrance, swirling the slickness around that blooms there with each stroke.

“But I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.”

With that one admission, Simon rolls you onto your back. When he spreads your legs, he does not settle between. He drapes a leg over each of his shoulders, and then his mouth is on your pussy, licking ravenously. His large hands slide up your stomach to tenderly grasp and tease both breasts.

His mouth and hands are full of you, and there is only pleasure.

Simon is right.

He does not harm, but he is not gentle.

Each swirl and tease of his tongue is harsh, sending you quickly to your end. The orgasm is bright and bursting—consuming. Yet, Simon remains steadfast, tasting until the first becomes a second and your thighs shake against the sides of his head.

“They assigned you to me,” he growls, shifting position, settling his hips between your spread thighs. “Made it an order.” The head of his cock presses in, and in one movement, Simon slides home. “And I’ll follow that order.”

His breathing is ragged. Even in the dark, you notice the gentle swell of his chest as he takes in air. “But fuck,” he groans, testing with a steady roll of his hips. “I’m gonna make sure we both enjoy ourselves.”

Simon casts his full weight over you, and there is nothing left for you to do but cling to him. Your feet rest against the back of his calves, and your fingers dig into his lower back as Simon thrusts without mercy.

He is brutal in this—but it does not hurt. It’s only rough, and within you, some primal piece is fracturing, feeding into what he’s giving.

Simon’s hands descend to squeeze your ass. He holds firm, lifting your pelvis upward at the same moment he holds himself tightly to your body. Growling against your throat, he shudders, and you feel his release flood your pussy.

This one deed seals it.

You are forever his.

Even if you try to leave, he’s never letting you go.

Simon’s lips pause at the pulse in your throat. He lingers there and then lightly kisses the spot. It’s a tender, nearly intimate touch. He ascends to the line of your jaw, and then his lips are on yours in a gentle caress.

You part for him, and his tongue slides inside. With a low groan, Simon lightly thrusts, his hardness returning with each stroke. The kisses deepen, and Simon eases you back to the bed, his cock sliding out of your pussy.

“Simon,” you murmur, one hand stroking over his chest.

His hand goes around your throat while the other dips between your legs. He finds your pussy, two fingers pushing into the mess.

“Give me one more, love. Tonight. One more.”

Simon withdraws, and with one quick movement, he rolls you onto your stomach.

“Open,” he commands, and you do so.

His two fingers that were just in your pussy slide into your mouth. Guiding your legs wide, Simon enters you again. The stretch is perfect, and his thrusts only push your mouth further down his fingers.

His hand slips between your body and the bed, seeking until he finds what he's after. With a few quick swirls of Simon's fingers against your clit, you scream around the ones in your mouth.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Come for me."

Your pussy squeezes around him and Simon moans his pleasure.

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[crepezinhos]

Purity

POV: You just wanted to celebrate your engagement party with your friends and family in the 1600s, but as soon as you left the scene for a quick moment, your childhood friend, Scaramouche, appeared with a lot of complaints.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a slightly Yandere and corrupted NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— 1600s / European Royalty AU

— There will be a lot of usage and mentions of toxic religion / culture towards women.

— There will be a whole NSFW part describing teenagers having sex

The party was going perfectly well as you planned it to be. Even without your presence at the main hall in a party that was supposed to be about you, you could hear the hundreds of voices and noises of silvers clicking. You thought that maybe making this party huge would distract your mind off from the most recent events of your life, and it did before your future husband ruined it for you and made you remind that you were just a loser in his game.

Of course it was him, it had to be him. Why did you even believe that he’d ever let you have that much of fun in a party? Now, you definitely did not want to party anymore, and luckily, you also couldn’t. Tears are a nightmare for eyes with mascara all around its eyelashes, the ink is strong. You looked a homeless woman as you crippled through each stair step in search of your room, stepping in the ends of your dress, defeated by the public humiliation he did to you. Why did he have keep making so many remarks about your excited manners towards the visitors, how you referred to him, and how much food you wanted to put in your plate? It made you wonder why did you ever accept marrying him the entire walk.

The story behind your marriage is simple. Your reputation in the city was bad, not enough to make your family miserable, but enough to make all the marriage suitors of your age refuse to take your hand in marriage. You were a girl who liked to have fun and take risks, not sit and chat for hours while drinking tasteless cups of tea in a time where all men wanted the complete opposite in their wives. You also had a very curious case in the past. You and your childhood best friend called Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche just for you, had promised and announced a marriage that would take place as soon as both of you got inserted into society, but unfortunately, his school offered him a scholarship in France before you two could be inserted, and since you obviously couldn’t come with him, he was forced to choose between success or you. He ended up picking France, which was not a bad decision, but watching his departure was truly painful to your poor heart who had deeply fallen in love with him.

Because of this tragic love story that turned out to be a joke and your questionable personality, everyone lost interest in you and your family, which made you an unmarried woman for two years. In short, being unmarried at such age was a disaster. The only man that had proposed to you was the same one who shamed you in front of your whole family and all those hypocrite visitors. He was the double of your age, ugly, and had really strict standards for his future wife after the loss of his previous wife. After a few test dates with him, you realized that you really did not want to marry him and even repulsed the idea, not because of your love towards Scaramouche, but because he wasn’t ok in the head. He was weird to a point where he confessed he just wanted to make you his wife because he thought you looked very fertile and that you’d be an incredible mother for boys, since you ‘acted like one’, which would not be a bad thing if his eyes never seemed to linger in your crotch for too long and if he kept his hands to himself.

You did not want to spend the rest of your life stocked to such weird man at all. You didn’t feel anything for him and even felt sick in his presence, but your reputation was in such a terrible state that your parents pressured you with the worst and most disturbing threats ever to accept his offer during a huge argument about it.

You’ve always wished to marry a young man of your age, especially Scaramouche, but you had no right or power of choice in that situation. With growing tears in the back of your eyes, you accepted his act of putting a golden ring in your finger. The day still haunted your dreams and thoughts, making you want to cry every single day of your meaningless life just like today.

Luckily, all you had to do that after climbing those long, exhausting stairs was enter the first room at the right. As soon as you touched the golden, cold doorknob of it, you felt your body melt and your tears finally coming out of your eyes with freedom. You held them for so long, you just wanted to throw yourself at the bed and cry until you fell asleep. Still, as desperate as you were, you closed the door very gently, afraid of possibly calling attention.

You stepped out of your heels and finally ran to the bed you slept through your entire childhood. Due to the contact your face made with the sheets, you finally felt comfort to open your mouth and let all your whimpers out. Everything that led to your situation was hitting you again. Your affair with Scaramouche, his departure, the argument with your parents, the betrayal of society to you, the first appearance of that hag you were marrying, his proposal, and today. It all made you so anxious again that you really began to try shutting your mouth again multiple times and swallow all that voice down your throat again, but it only seemed to worsen.

“Y/N?” You suddenly heard a voice inside the room, slightly muffled due to your head being drowned at the wet sheets.

Oh no, someone spotted you.

The fear of it being your husband, an unreliable gossiper or your reputation worsening made you instantly jump up from that position, despite the weird feeling of familiarity on that voice.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll come down in a few—!” You tried making yourself look normal, but as soon as your eyes gazed upon the person’s shiny purple hair and eyes, you stopped acting.

It was the complete opposite of what your pessimism made you believe it could be, it was a miracle, it was Kunikuzushi. Although his face seemed to be very stressed and he entered the room without knocking, it did not make his appearance any less pleasant to you.

“Scara…” You called his nickname after those 2 years without speaking of it.

Your family made very clear to you that if you ever spoke of the man again to them or your husband, it would lead to your disownment, but calling his name out so passionately like that made all those threats feel useless to you. The first thing you did after realizing that it was really him, was begin walking to him. It was instinctual, so instinctual that your knees stopped trembling just for you to reach him and more tears started coming down. He looked so beautiful and mature… it made you feel even more bad about yourself. You wasted such a handsome man to one that probably has never even tried to look pretty to a lady.

“For how long have you…” You tried interacting, but as you soon as your hand managed to touch him, you broke down once again, this time in his embrace.

You felt so safe around Scaramouche and so hungry for him that you genuinely allowed your legs to stop working, and as expected, he held you with a warm embrace around your entire torso. When he realized you still were as light as a feather, he leaned one hand up to the back of your head and started cuddling it, his face still stressed.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” He whispered with that familiar angry voice of his you wished to hear again, slightly gripping tighter in your head.

The truth is that you secretly sent an invitation letter to the party to him, even if you believed that he would not be able to come or simply wouldn’t come. It was a normal envelope like everyone else’s, but you hoped he’d interpret it as a cry for help.

“W-Wha… what do you mean..?” You whimpered, looking up to his face.

Now that he was so much taller than you, the difference of height was surprising to you.

“I was talking to him, to find out where you were and to just know who the fuck were you marrying, and not only he said he didn’t know with the most careless tone I could hear, but he felt comfortable enough to confess a bunch of weird shit about his intentions with you and that he offended you in front of everyone in the dining table.” He told the story behind his arrival very angrily, but his voice was so mesmerizing to you that you barely paid attention to it. He still sounded like a twelve year-old boy before his departure, but now he sounded like an adult. “Did he really do that, Y/N?” He asked, pulling your chin to him to wake you up to reality, forcing you to go through all he said before again and stare at those addicting purple eyes.

Between all those whimpers and tears, you nodded weakly, making Scaramouche grit his teeth.

“And you’re really… marrying him?” You went quiet for some second in embarrassment after he made that question with the most disappointed tone you’ve ever heard from him yet.

But you had no choice rather than being truthful.

“Yes—”

“Why?” He asked instantly, some of his anger accidentally pouring out.

“I… had to… or I would be disowned and… and..!” You tried explaining, but the memories of the actual threat stopped you from venting too much.

Luckily, he understood your despair at that moment and embraced you again.

“I’m guessing this is all because of me, isn’t it?” He scoffed at himself, but you instantly nodded your head side to side, trying to tell him otherwise. “Oh, Y/N… I should’ve found a way to bring you to France with me…” He whispered in your ear and pulled you even closer to his body, truly seeming regretful of his decisions. “I thought I had forgotten about you over these two years, but here I am, raging over your marriage.” He vented, making your eyes finally open again, but in confusion.

“You’re… angry..?” You asked, leaning your chin up to him again.

“Way more than that, Y/N.” He said very directly, pushing you away from him gently, still holding on your shoulders as he precisely stared to the deepest parts of your eyes. “This has to stop.” He shook your shoulders, making you get even more confused and surprised at his sudden jealously. “I don’t care if it will ruin more of your little reputation, I can’t let you marry that prick.” He spouted more of his feelings, putting a hand back to reach the door behind him to bang it back to its place and spin the lock in knob, then going back to gripping on your shoulders tighter than before, making you slightly whimper at his firmness.

“W-What are you talking about, Scara..?” You asked, trying to believe he was not saying those things.

“Do you know why that man asked your hand in marriage, Y/N? I had a bit of hope that at least I lost you to a good man, but all he wants in you is your fertility and potential to be a mother.” He told you the details of it with a kind of disgust you had never seen on him, making you turn your face away from him in embarrassment of your decisions. “That’s fucking mental, Y/N, why the fuck are doing this?!” He shook your shoulders again, a little more aggressive as he tries to understand you the mentality behind your choices.

“And what else could I do, Scara?! If you know that it’s your fault that I got a bad reputation, why are you acting like this is unexpected?! I was unmarried for these whole two years, I had to accept this! You know how things work for women! If I don’t marry quickly, I’ll be forever stained with it like it’s written in my forehead! Do you know how much I had to fight and work to get this, huh?! Do you think I chose and love this?!” You vented it all out, screaming like you didn’t care about the possible consequences of it meanwhile Scaramouche looked at you in horror.

But you could see that you convinced him, now that he let you go and turned around, beginning to walk in circles in your room with his hands in his hips, thoughtful about you.

“I can’t let you do this, Y/N…” He whispered to himself as he nodded his head around multiple times and you stood weakly exactly where you’ve been this entire hug.

But after some circles, he started to slow down until he fully stopped in front of one of the room’s windows. He kept staring at the garden below the room through the glass, his back turned to you, but you could still feel the anxiety behind whatever he thought of.

His arms crossed firmly, his index finger tapping his arm, and at the same time he took a deep breath, like he was preparing for something.

“Marry me.” He stated, finally finding the courage to stare at you again.

You simply stared at him wordless in your shrunken position, completely vulnerable to his tall figure, although he was far from you. The room remained quiet because Scara needed a response to continue rambling about that brainstormed idea.

“I would’ve accepted losing you to a common man of our age, but not to an old hag with a simple wish to make an heir.” He commented as you thought of what to answer him.

“Scaramouche… are you nuts?! I already am engaged to him, all we need is the actual wedding! There’s nothing to be done about it unless you want to stain my reputation forever!” You finally spouted some of your emotions to him.

“Of course there is, Y/N! Listen to me…” He shouted at you as he approached to you again, holding on your arms again very firmly. “I just came back to this hellhole to see you, but I’ll be soon going back to England and most likely going to stay there for the rest of my life. If you dump this douchebag right now and marry me instead, I’ll take you out of here and implant you into a new society! See?! It really isn’t hard or risky and we will finally marry each other as we’ve always dreamed to! I still fucking love you so much, Y/N… You’ve grown so well and you look so fucking beautiful in this dress… I can’t lose you to that man at all.” He explained the plan to you in a desperate tone, and although you agreed with all of it, you kept your face as anxious as it was.

You definitely loved him back and wanted to run away with him, but how would he get rid of your husband or the church? How would you live knowing that you wasted two years of pure hard work because of the seduction of a man you’ve been lusting for, and who barely has a plan in his own? His plan seems so easily fragile… what if it breaks? You would most likely become the national shame for next centuries.

All those negative thoughts censored the good ones about his plan, making you look away from him as you nodded side to side firmly, making Scaramouche start breathing more nervously in despair.

“I can��t…” You initiated, thinking he’d instantly get mad, but when you realized he didn’t say anything back, and wanted to listen, you continued. “I spent two years fighting for this, Scara… I can’t just… drop everything for a plan that’s not even finished on its own…” You cried, trying your best to free away from his grip with ease.

“Oh, silly Y/N..! All I need now is to find out how will I get rid of that fucking prick, and then it’s done! You know it’s not a bad plan… I really just need to think about this part! I think I can safely state that we still love each other and crave for this… we can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist..!” He argued, banging your foreheads together with a sensible lust to bring your lips together.

“I cannot accept your offer until it’s fully completed, Scaramouche… I’m sorry. It still wouldn’t change the fact that you’ve broken my heart once.” You brought the topic back, which made him barely cry and tighten his grip on your shoulders in regret, feeling like he was losing you. “And… I’ve heard you’ve been seeing a woman named Kujou Sara… so how can I guarantee you’re not just playing with my heart and seducing me into carnal desires..?” You asked, making him genuinely scoff and giggle at your logic.

“Do you really think I’d go this far for carnal desires, Y/N? Wherever you heard about me and Sara, keep in mind that we didn’t work. Don’t you remember? Our mothers have always tried to push us together through our entire childhoods, but we repulsed each other so much that we preferred to bet on the luck of finding another partner! And trust me, Y/N, I had you in my mind this entire time.” He told his version of the story as he confessed his feelings for you. “I don’t wish to simply engage into animality with you, I want to be your fucking husband and the fucking father of your children.” He confessed, feeling the regret of his last actions hitting on him and the anger of your insistence of rejecting him, but you saw him stop for a moment to swallow everything down again and regain some self-control. “I love you, Y/N.” Those words came out of his mouth as easy as any other would, with a smile that you could feel was genuine, no matter how weird it looked.

The impact of his emotions on you made you weaken your body again, feeling safe in his grip no matter how weird he was acting. You felt like you were set back to his seduction, but you didn’t really care for it for that quick moment.

“I… I love you too, Scara, but I really can’t—”

…

!

In a blink of an eye, you saw the gap between your mouths close shut, finally making utility of the unnecessary contact between your foreheads. His lips were glossing yours, no matter if yours were supposed to belong to another man now. He had pulled you that close to him, no matter if you had or had not consented. He predicted that you’d simply accept it like a gift… and he wasn’t wrong.

Scaramouche’s tongue was invasive and hungry to get to feel more of your mouth, and that feeling just made you melt under his attack. Your back leaned backwards, making him have to hold you by your waist in a very hard angle while you held him by his cheeks, but it didn’t matter as long as he got to kiss you. Your tongue soon managed to join his rhythm, which made him groan. Everything between you got very hot and very quickly, only convincing you to kiss him more. It has been two years since you last saw, touched or kissed him, which means your hormones were surely acting higher than you.

You suddenly felt Scaramouche’s hands move to the back part of your tights and pull it up. You groaned in surprise but that didn’t stop you from savoring his lips. What truly made you two separate was the fact that Scaramouche started walking, and in a few steps, your back banged against a cold wall of your room beside your bed. That swift movement made a saliva chord come out from both your mouths, but was quickly ignored by you moving your hands behind his neck and hugging his waist with your legs to pull him to your mouth again, gripping on the back of his hair like you felt any sort of pain in that kiss.

You were almost feeling tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you felt all those years of longing being wasted, but before you could get any more emotional, you felt something gently rub in your crotch. It instantly made you feel uncomfortable, although you had no idea what it was, so you pushed Scaramouche backwards, separating your moths again, to see what it was.

Oh, lord. You two messed up.

It was a growing erection under his pants.

You instantly flinched away from it as a reaction, slightly screaming in fear of it.

“W-Wait..! No! We can’t do this, Scara!” You argued as you tried to push him away and kick the air with your feet.

“Why not, hum..?” He asked, not taking you seriously at all. “I thought you said you loved me too…” He joked, getting his face close to yours again for another kiss, but accidentally forcing the contact of his erection with your crotch even further.

“Seriously, Scara! Stop it!” You moaned as you felt him rub himself against your clothed clit, trying to push him away even harder.

Scaramouche grunted in frustration, but still decided to let you stand up in the ground again and step away from you. After some necessary breathes to recover, he finally decided to speak up.

“What’s wro—?”

SLAP!

You breathed in and out some extras times before using the same hand you used to smack his cheek to wipe the saliva away from your lips and speaking up for yourself.

“Don’t you ever do this to me again!” You argued, trying your best to not scream at him so loudly.

“What’s up with the sudden bipolarity, huh?” He asked in an ironic tone, caressing the cheek that has been slapped.

You had just forgotten how sarcastic and annoying Scaramouche was. It even made you wonder how did you befriend him in the first place.

“This is wrong, Scaramouche, even if I accepted your offer… it would be cruel to betray someone’s trust like this. Sorry if I fooled you by realizing this too late, but you know wives have to keep themselves pure before their marriage, so meanwhile we aren’t an oficial couple, I must keep myself pure for my future husband.” You argued in a more calm tone, rearranging your hair and dress.

“Pure?” He scoffed.

“Yes, Scaramouche. Pure as a saint.”

“There isn’t such thing as ‘purity’, Y/N, and you were never ‘pure’ too.” He ironized, copying your way to pronounce ‘pure’.

“What do you mean?” You asked, slightly losing your confidence as he made those two statements.

“Well… let’s just say I studied a lot about religion and science in France and stopped going to church or believing in God because I found science more logical—” He initiated, making you repulse him and his previous actions even more.

“W-Wha… what..?! Scara, this is devil’s work on you..!” You immediately replied.

“Quiet. I’m not done.” He tried shutting you, but you feared demonology too much to let him give you orders.

“I will not quiet down towards—!”

“Y/N, if you’re so loyal to your religion, why don’t you act like the submissive woman you’re supposed to be and let the man take lead?” He confronted in a harsh, cold tone, this time giving you a good reason to shut up. “When I say I don’t believe in God, I also mean that I don’t believe in Satan, hell or heaven.” He continued, completely ignoring your discomfort and fear.

You feared that Scaramouche you saw was just a demon morphing as him, or that he had allied with Satan, but you still felt like none of those negative thoughts made you like him less or feel less comfortable. According to his words, he really just seemed to have started seeing the world in a different perspective.

“Why would God want you to be ‘pure’ anyway? Why would he not want couples to know each other and be intimate before sealing their relationship as marriage?” He scoffed the logic behind that rule of your religion. “What would you do if that man you’re about to marry likes choking and hurting women physically during sex? I don’t think you’re into those things, so that’s why I’m asking… nor I think that man would be willing to adapt to what you like.” He crossed his arms as he confronted you again, but you didn’t want to say anything else. “And there’s also the fact that you still are not ‘pure’, Y/N, in fact, you’re one of the most impure women I’ve ever met.” He insulted you, making you gasp in shock with his audacity.

“How dare you insult me like this?!” You screamed back at him.

“Insult? It’s a mere fact, Y/N, unless if you consider what happened between us when we were 16, a day before my departure, something ‘pure’.” He scoffed, smirking as he saw your face stone in horror.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no…

No, no, no, no, no…

He’s right.

You are not pure.

“You opened yourself so easily to me… I was so glad I got to experience sex with you before leaving this stupid city.” He commented, making both of you remember of what happened enthusiastically, but you were still horrified with the incoming memories.

That day, you were simply sitting in Scaramouche’s bed with him, talking about how you felt about his departure. Not only you knew he was going to leave you, but another girl you two knew as kids, Kujou Sara, was also moving to France, and that made you feel extremely insecure about your slightly romantic relationship with him. You asked him if he planned marrying her if he didn’t come back, but he took it as an insult and instantly spilled out that if he could ever marry you, he would, but it was impossible at the moment because you two were too young for the church to allow it. From that point, things got hot and romantic very quick, and you two lost notion of time and morality as you two made love to each other for the first time in your lives.

“Do you… really promise to- ah~! marry me if you come back, Scaramouche..?” You asked between moans and whines as you hugged and scratched his back and he forced his hips into yours like a starved dog.

“Of course, Y/N, of cour—” He was about to answer, but a sudden gasp echoed in the room in the spot of the door, making you two stone in horror and stop everything.

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU TWO DOING?!” Scaramouche’s mother, Raiden Ei, screamed at the both of you with a very noticeable disgust in her voice.

And you two were forced to stop.

“Yeah, right? How many slaps that costed you again? 50?” He asked as he realized you were having flashbacks of it.

Ei was not kind towards the situation you both were in and reported your sin to your family, which caused the biggest problems you had to face: your family’s scolding and not allowing that secret to spread. Your parents had gone so mad during their scolding that they instantly made you also receive punishment from the church to somehow recover what you lost that day. The sister who heard your forced confession betrayed your little trust and forced you to receive 50 slaps with a piece of wood in your bare nude buttocks. What hurt you most is that not only your lover couldn’t defend you but the sister did not forgive your sin and told you with the roughest voice tone she that you’d never get your purity back.

It was so traumatic and humiliating that your mind decided to blur those moments out of it to make your life less miserable, but now it has all been brought back by the man you wanted to defend you at that moment.

“You see, Y/N? We have stoped being ‘pure’ long time ago when we did that! We’re both screwed in this society, so if we stick together, nothing will change in our reputations! We’re perfect for each other, Y/N! Why can’t you see it?!” He whispered in your ear after walking up to you again, extremely desperate for your consent to kiss you one more time.

You didn’t want to admit that he was right about the logic of purity or you not being pure… you didn’t want to awaken those dark moments at all. What if someone was behind that door listening to it all..? It would truly be the end of your name in England.

“Come on, say it, Y/N… you know you still want to be my wife and get away from this hellhole of a city.” He begged with a petty voice, extremely lusty for you.

His cheeks were red and his mouth trembling to touch yours again.

You lowered your head, beginning to tear again as you resisted your desires, no matter how much it ached your heart.

But your need to cry was suddenly replaced by the sudden movement of one of his legs moving upwards, kneeing right under your crotch.

“No need to cry, my love… I’ll make sure that this guilt will vanish as soon as you agree to my plan of getting you out of this marriage… There is literally no good reason for you to say ‘no’..!” He whispered as he started rubbing his knee against your folds, causing to gently hiccup in tears and slight pleasure and try pushing him away. “See..?! You still like it when I touch you here… you want more, don’t you..? I don’t think even think I need to hear your voice to know it’s a ‘yes’!” He grunted under your neck as he begun moving a hand under your dress and kissing your neck.

No matter how much your memories made you feel horrible, you knew that Scaramouche would be the remedy of it. You knew that he would present you plenty pleasure if you accepted what he was trying to do with you right now, you knew he’d make you the happiest woman on Earth if things went well, you knew you’d love being the mother of his children, you could easily predict your future if you say ‘yes’ to him.

Your feelings are a mess, really. But now that they seemed to have finally stick with something, you didn’t want to let go.

“Oh, God! If you’re watching this, please forgive me for my sin ahead… I just want to feel him once again… I just want to spend some time with him!”

“Please don’t let this be a demon trying to take advantage of my weaknesses! Please let his plan be real and not an attempt to simply seduce me into carnal activities!”

“And if he really wants to be my husband… please let me have it! I really need it for my happiness!”

You said to yourself in your mind.

“Scara~…” You moaned out before he could your private spots.

“Yes, my love?” He answered excitedly, stopping his movements to hear what you had to say after moaning his name so perfectly.

“Please… get me out of here!” You begged, finally weakening your body for his benefit in that situation, making his purple eyes glow and widen in joy.

“Oh, Y/N, I will… I fucking will.” He groaned, instantly stopping his attempt in teasing your core and moving his hands to your tights to pull them upwards.

In seconds, you were spun around and thrown against your bed, but it really didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or any pain because the make-out session that begun was simply numbing your mind of everything around you. He was on top of you and perfectly positioned between your legs, making you able to feel his erection slightly poking and rubbing against your swollen cunt.

His hands were quick in beginning to push all the layers of your dress upwards as his mouth still pushed your head father into the mattress. He had no time to make a full preparation for the moment, nor did you want it. You just wanted to feel that man inside you already, anything blocking you from it was simply annoying, no matter if it was related to him making love to you.

His mouth suddenly separated from yours, making you open your eyes in agony of being too far from him, only to find him leaning his whole body upwards and his hands moving to your pantyhose like a starved dog. Unlike with the dress, his hands weren’t as gentle with your pantyhose, barely ripping it apart as he brutally pulled them down.

“S-Scara..! Be more careful, those were expensive!” You asked slightly stressed, trying your best to close your knees from him, but he held them like he’d die if you did that.

“S-Sorry.” He said absolutely careless about it, only focusing on the teasing view of your exposed tights and underwear. “Fuck…” He grunted as he moved his hands to his belt.

He was quick on undoing his annoying pants and you helped him by sliding your underwear down too, saving some time for him. He smirked at your will to commit carnal activity with him as he grabbed his own cock and pulled it out, beginning to stroke it gently in front of you. You were somehow too ashamed to look at it, so you simply threw your head aside and moved a hand to your wet entrance as your body relaxed, gently inserting two fingers inside it to also prepare yourself even more for him.

“God, Y/N… you never fail to make me as hard as a brick. Can you even guess how many times I touched myself for you?” He smirked as his cock twitched at the view of you preparing yourself to receive him.

He felt like he could cum already if he kept stroking himself with that view in front of him, but he really was just preparing himself for the moment too.

As soon as he felt a sudden hard pulse from his cock, he knew he was ready and leaned down close to you again, using a hand to take yours away from your cunt and properly position his cock in front of it.

Your hands went to the corners of the pillow under your head, gripping on them nervous about his length.

“Are you ready, my love?” He asked between some shaky breathes.

“Yes…” You whispered, and he finally begun slowly pushing his way inside you.

The scream that came out of you as a reaction to it would only get higher and higher the deeper he went, making your entire body crumble under him for a quick moment when he finally stopped at the tip of your cervix, successfully inserting all his length inside you. Despite knowing that in your religion sexual pleasure was sinful too, even in marriage, that heat wave his entrance gave you was too breathtaking to make you care about those stupid rules.

“Lord almighty…” He groaned and smirked at the sensation of being surrounded by your mushy, tight walls. “If only I had time and condition to see you naked again… thank God I’ll make you my wife, Y/N, because I want us to do this every single day of our lives.” His voice cracked multiple times during his speech as he begun creating a slow rythym to his hips, pleasuring taking over his senses too.

He was slowly pulling out and then rocking all the way in quickly, creating a tortuous rhythm that mostly explored your G spot, which only made you feel weaker and weaker under him. Unintentional plap noises were coming out from the rocking of both your hips and his balls every time he thrusted, which would be something you’d be worrying about if your mind wasn’t numbed by the overwhelming pleasure you received. Tears were beginning to form in ecstasy as your legs instinctively hugged his hips tighter, wishing for more depth into his movements.

“Do you really think… that man would or could ever… make you feel like this, Y/N?” He asked, pausing to moan and breathe sometimes, not minding the fact that you barely had any consciousness left to answer.

“N-N… no…” You moaned out, making his smirk widen.

“Only I can… and I fucking love it.” He whispered to himself as he slightly sped up his rhythm.

The way he whispered with that husky voice made you feel his dick suddenly get bigger and more invasive inside you, making Scaramouche grunt, although you didn’t understand what happened.

“Fuck… if you keep tightening like this, I might be unable to keep making my way inside…” He teased right in your left ear, making you throw your head aside even more.

His blood circulation felt like it had dropped all the way to his dick, because somehow he managed to get even harder than he was with the struggle of passing through such a tight space as your pussy.

Due to him getting his face so close to your head, Scaramouche moved his mouth to your neck, his harsh breathing tickling your warm skin too. Your legs twitched in surprise and Scaramouche grunted again, meaning that you probably tightened your cunt around him again.

And it was definitely the case since now you could hear some low, soggy noises whenever he pulled out from you, something that was not happening until this point.

“You still like it when I fuck you nice and slow like this, don’t you..?” He asked, making you face away from the moment in front of you. “Don’t be ashamed, I love making this to you…” He teased again before going back to his make-out session with the muscles of your neck.

Your hands finally got enough from endlessly gripping in a pillow and moved to his back, scratching it in the same intensity as his thrusts, making him slightly crumble on top of you too. But since he had his clothes on, his back was mostly protected from your nails unlike your poor, swollen cunt, being savored so relentlessly no matter how fragile and sensitive it is for his touch.

“Tell me, Y/N… who’s your husband..?” He asked, stopping his attack in your neck again just to lean up and stare at you with those hungry, shining purple eyes, unintentionally getting your hands away from his back too.

“Y-You…” You answered, still staring at him with your pathetic sex face.

“Who’s ‘you’?” His menacing voice made you remember of just how Scaramouche liked to explore everyone’s limits and capacities just to make himself more proud.

You had fallen for these tricks multiple times as a kid, so you eventually learned how to avoid them. And although you knew he was doing it again now, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to make him more invested in your capacity of being submissive.

“Scaramouche… or… Kunikuzushi… Raiden…” You used all your energy to make your response the most teasing it could to fuel his pleasure.

And it worked, since you saw his eyes and smirk widen in lust as he heard you perfectly answer him.

“Yeah… that’s right. I am your husband and will soon be the father of your children… it’s just very unfortunate that I can’t afford to cum inside you and impregnate you right now… because I really wanted to.” He answered in a low tone, his constant breathing taking over his voice, speeding up his thrusts to a more tiring one, like he was beginning to get seriously involved with the moment.

You felt so sinful on allowing yourself to be so kinky and aroused with Scaramouche’s kinky personality too, but God would forgive you for this, wouldn’t he? He is such a nice person… he can feel that you’re just trying to feel your loved one again, right?

“You’re mine, Y/N… mine, mine, mine…” He grunted, leaning down again, but this time to kiss you with all his hunger and passion.

And before you could hug him again, he grabbed both your wrists who were gripping the pillow again and locked them right there, having full control of you. And you, in pleasure at feeling so confident to let him deal with you as he wished, arched your back up and widened the gap between your legs, allowing the mess of the sex between your hips to have even more depth.

It didn’t matter if your brain barely had any oxygen to process everything that was going on, Scaramouche still knew exactly how to bring you to ecstasy even if he got the chance to have sex with you once without even having an orgasm. Did he really study that much in France? It even made you jealous for a quick moment before your mind went numb again because of the lack of air that passed through your mouth in that kiss.

And Scaramouche was mean enough to force your tongue follow his in the deepest corners of your mouth, taking over anything that you had control of at that point. But don’t worry, Scaramouche was struggling on his own. He was giving the job of keeping himself on top of you only to his arms, which was causing an agonizing pain that he was trying to ignore. His sloppy socks were also making hard for his feet to keep his hips at that perfect angle that gave sharp thrusts at your weak spots, needing to crawl up again multiple times.

Luckily, he was feeling something build up inside his crotch, meaning that both your agonies would be done soon.

He sped up his rythym, causing you to clench around him once again for that momentary peak. It really felt like you were simply sucking him in rather than him thrusting.

He suddenly separated your tongues and leaned up his entire torso at the same time. His hands also moved back to your hips, pulling them up to successfully thrust you rough and fast as he smirked in pleasure of miring your defeated body shaking and trembling in rythym of his violent sex with hungry, widened eyes.

Due to the new position and rhythm, the bed begun doing the classic cranky noises whenever it moved up and down too. But, honestly… you guys had locked the door, in a took at second floor of a mansion where music was taking over everyone’s ears in the first floor… why the fuck would you care about it?

Your hands, no matter how weak they felt, moved to his wrists, simply hugging and caressing them in acceptation of his control over you, almost telling him that you desired him to keep controlling you until it ached. Your head was also thrown back as a reaction to his brutality, also feeling something build up inside your crotch.

“You’re gonna cum too, aren’t you? It’s getting way too sloppy down here…” He scoffed as before finally allowed himself to also fully focus on bringing an orgasm to both of you like a dog in heat.

His head arched all the way up too, beginning to also focus on feeling every single curve of your wet walls surrounding him perfectly. He was so focused on pleasing himself with your defeat rather than your pussy that he didn’t realize just how well you were taking him inside you.

“So fucking tight and warm f’me… it’s addicting, I’ll be honest..!” He used all his remaining energies to make that comment, and you accepted it like he had complimented your dress.

That peak felt like heaven to the both of you, but before you two could turn off your minds from each other and appreciate the perfection of the sex happening between your hips, all the orgasm that had been built up to this point suddenly bursted out disastrously from both your systems, causing a deep groan to come out of him and a loud scream to come out of you.

Scaramouche was still paying attention to the moment because he knew he couldn’t finish inside you, so as soon as he felt his dick pulse hard because of his seed aching to come out, he pulled out from you and covered his tip with a hand, twitching in the agony of it wishing it was still shoved inside you as it spilled seed inside your womb while you simply allowed your own fluids to overcome your insides until it was tipping on your entrance.

Scaramouche was so shaky that it actually brought him to stop smirking and hiss with his teeth gritting on each other, still miring the scene of the disaster you two created and the cream pie in your entrance, swollen in red.

“Fuck…” He grunted, taking his hand to his eyes when his dick finally stopped spilling cum, getting annoyed at the mess it was. “Stay right there… I’ll take care of this mess.” He said, back to his normal voice tone as he crawled away form your body.

And now that fresh air could reach your body, you could finally feel just how sweaty you had gotten. You still had dress on, so you knew that the maids of the home would not have a fun time cleaning it up. Your makeup was probably also completely ruined too but you couldn’t confirm it. Scaramouche was probably feeling it too, since he also had clothes on, even more than you.

You couldn’t even tell where Scaramouche had headed because you all did was focus on staring the rooftop, but he soon came back with his hands rubbing each other under a cloth, another one in his pocket, and with the clothes he had taken away from you.

“I’ll tell the people downstairs you suddenly got sick, okay? Don’t worry, they have no idea what a person looks like after sex, they like to keep themselves ‘pure’ after all…” He explained as he wiped out your cream pie and put your panties and pantyhose back to their places in you.

And right after, he pulled out the other cloth in his pocket, folded it some times, rested it on your forehead and covered you with the sheets of the bed to make the play of ‘being sick’ more believable to whoever would come in to check on you.

“Expect me to knock on your window every night from now on, ok? Just like I did as a kid. I’ll be coming up to tell you how our little plan is doing and how it will work and to also check up on you.” He said with a surprisingly cute smile as he patted the top of your head and kissed your forehead, even it was covered by the cloth. “See you soon, my love, I love you.” He said before leaning up again and walking towards the door while rearranging his tie, closing it so gently that you couldn’t even hear its knock.

“I told you it would work, Y/N… if only I could show you the face the priest made when I gave him the money to make a fake marriage certificate… it was hilarious..! But it doesn’t matter to you now, does it? I know it’s hard to keep up with me, but this is the only way we can go for a fourth kid…”

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

Taglist: @kindofscenic @kindofshyent @the-stinky-winky @amoyanderes

[astra-ravana]

A Dive Into The Dark Feminine

The Dark Feminine is not the same as the Wounded or Shadow Feminine energy. No. She is deeply misunderstood because society represses her into shadow. She is liberation, rage, pleasure, and intuition. She is not a manipulation or a repackaging of the male gaze.

She is fierce grace, wild liberation, the sword of truth. She is blood, sex, and earth. The Lover and the Whore. She shakes the cage of "Good Girl" conditioning to unleash the full spectrum expression of woman.

She is Hekate, Kali, Lilith. The Creatrix and the Destroyer. She is the Shamaness, the Wild Woman, and the Wise Crone. Once a woman awakens to her there is no going back.

"Your rage is sacred.

Your grief is a holy gift.

Your full-spectrum depths,

hold your greatest power."

Dark Feminine Energy is:

Self sourced power, sensuality, chaos, devotion, magick, passion, rage, transformation, internal safety, fearlessness, sexual liberation, the unknown, regeneration, wholeness, sisterhood, authenticity, death

Checklist

• Cut off toxic people.

• Practice shadow work.

• Prioritize self-care.

• Healthy communication with loved ones.

• Practice manifestation.

• Try things out of your comfort zone.

Essential Dark Goddesses

• Lilith

• Hekate

• Morrigan

• Nyx

• Persephone

• Morgan le Fay

• Erish Kigal

• Baba Yaga

• Sekhmet

• Freya

• Circe

• Oya

• Hel

• Medusa

• Eris

• Kali

• Melinoe

• Angrboda

• Tiamat

"And in the death of her reputation,

She felt truly alive."

Pre and Post Patriarchy Views of Women and Sex

Pre-Patriarchy

• Sexuality and divinity were one; sex was seen as divine.

• The more sexual a woman, the more holy.

• Priestesses that were initiated into the highest Mystery (womb magick) were seen as livinf goddesses.

• The worth of a woman was inherent.

• Sacred priestesses in tune with their sexuality, having mastered the power of their bodies (Kundalini) were revered as a direct portal to spirit and the Gods/Energies of the Universe.

Post-Patriarchy

• Sexuality being taboo, seen as profane, filthy, even evil.

• The more sexual a woman, the more vulgar and profane.

• Priestesses turned to sex slaves, "prostitutes" for men to release upon their repressed sexualities and sexual tension.

• The worth of a woman is now in relation to a man; her value is in her chastity. The more lovers she has, the more worthless she becomes.

• The word "whore" is used as an insult for women who were comfortable with sexuality.

• The more a woman is sexual, associated with the taboos and repressed instincts of the collective, the less she is respected, seen as "not respecting herself", "being cheap", "easy", or "giving her most sacred possession away".

• Women with high sex drives said to have "fornicated with the Devil".

Someone who has a lot of sexual energy can also possess a powerful healing energy. This is because sexual energy IS healing energy at a spiritual level. The best healers have big sexual energy.

VINDICA TE TIBI - "Claim yourself"

The Secret Power of Friday the 13th

Friday the 13th is actually good luck as it is associated with the 13 cycles of the moon in a lunar year, this is why a woman has 13 cycles a year, and ovulates on the 13th day. In 1487 free thinking and Divine Female Energy was suppressed and labeled witchcraft by Heinrich Kramer, who went forth to burn many healers on the stake due to forced ignorance and hatred for powerful female leaders. This is why Friday the 13th is actually a spiritual day of enlightenment, divine/dark feminine energy, and healing that should be sacred instead of hated.

Black Moon Lilith

In astrology, Black Moon Lilith plays the role of 'Guardian of the Threshold'. The term indicates a spectral image which manifests itself as soon as the student of the spirit ascends upon the path into the higher worlds of knowledge. Lilith, representing the testing of the feminine oracle, comes with temptations and promises for the ego, forcing the seeker to meet their own shadow.

"Darkness is the fertile soil of the feminine. Discomfort is the birth place of our shadows. Wild chaos catalyses true leadership. Raw emotions teach us how to feel. The deep void of our sex holds our primal hunger. So, what powerful darkness do you feel is wrong? "

[voredere]

i need people on this website to understand:

some trans women have two x chromosomes

some trans men have a y

some trans women have vaginas, uteruses, etc and some were even born with them

some trans men have penises, testes, etc some were born with them

some trans people have very complicated anatomy

some trans people have a complicated relationship with their anatomy

some trans women were assigned female at birth

some trans men were assigned male at birth

some trans women have menstruated

some trans men have never menstruated and never will

some intersex people do not find out they are intersex until they hit puberty

some intersex people do not find out they are intersex until later in life

some intersex people take HRT for reasons that are related to being intersex

some intersex people take HRT for reasons that are related to being trans

some intersex people forgo hrt, trans or otherwise

some trans people consider being intersex a vital facet of their gender

some trans people do not consider being intersex a factor in their gender

some trans intersex people consider their assigned gender their original gender

some trans intersex people self-quantify their "biological sex", and identify as "afab" or "amab" based on that, regardless of assigned gender at birth, due to the limits of afab/amab as terms for intersex people.

some trans intersex people have identities and anatomy you don't understand and never will

some trans intersex people have identities and anatomy you didn't know were possible

some trans intersex people are fertile and choose to have biological children

some trans intersex people are infertile and may or may not choose to have children through other means

some trans intersex people have experiences i haven't even begun to cover in this post and never could even if i had eternity to do so

and some people have any combination of the above

unlearn the concept of sex as a binary and stop excluding us from conversations about gender, reproductive rights, and sexual health.

[ivflondon]

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[giulliadella]

Speculative Biology of Euclydeans (and Bill Cipher) part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Reproduction and growth

I highly recommend reading the second part before this! This part is the continuation of second part and it talks about Euclydean reproductive system. I separated it because some people find reproductive anatomy NSFW.

As always, this analysis is based on two assumptions:

Before Bill Cipher became a demigod, he was a biological, living organism and so were the rest of his species.

Even after Bill Cipher became a demigod, he still retained some physical characteristics of his biological form.

There will be anatomic diagrams and discussions of pregnancy in this part, so content warning if you're sensitive about those topics.

And without further ado, let's get into it!

Reproductive system

One thing that we know for certain about Euclydeans is that they reproduce sexually. Bill has parents, a mother and a father and that is only possible in species that sexually reproduce. Because we know that we also know that males have testes and females have ovaries. This is because of biological definitions of male and female - a male is an organism that produces a lot of microgametes (small reproductive cells that don't have nutrients to feed the embryo) and a female is an organism that produces far less macrogametes (large reproductive cells that contain nutrients for the embryo). Hermaphrodites produce both types of gametes and some organisms produce neither - those are sexless.

Euclydeans most likely had males and females. Bill understands concept of gender, but also the one of sex. He claims that his species had 14 billion genders, but when talking about sexes, he only uses two: male and female. Now I don't know for sure whether Bill is a biological male, however, most of the insane shit he says points towards it. Whether it is him making inappropriate jokes about knocking up your mother or adopting toxic masculinity traits that humans have and also refusing to possess women all point towards him being a male.

Bill gets extremely uncomfortable when someone wants to touch or measure his sides, especially his "hypotenuse". Bill is an equilateral triangle, so he doesn't have a hypotenuse, but I tend to believe that what he calls hypotenuse is actually his base. Since touching Bill's base makes him incredibly upset and he calls people who do so "creeps", it's fair to conclude that that is where his reproductive organs are located. And it makes sense: in vast majority of animals reproductive system is located on the body side opposite of the brain.

I believe that Euclydeans give live birth. Bill is usually grossed out by humans and when he is, he is very vocal about it. There are only two human body parts that he isn't grossed out by: the brain and the uterus. I believe that's because those parts are similar to their equivalents in Euclydeans. Bill said that he was born, not hatched and he seems uncomfortable around the idea of laying eggs. He is completely comfortable with the idea of a live birth and uteri, so much so that he has actually depicted himself inside a human uterus which is an honor only brain has gotten from him.

This means that Euclydean females probably have a very similar uterus to humans and they give live birth. This also means that the fertilization happens inside the female, so males very likely have some kind of copulatory organ. Copulatory organ is basically a means for a male to deposit his sperm inside the female. In mammals it's called penis, in reptiles a hemipenis and so on. I don't know how would Euclydean copulatory organ look like, but it acts like a hemipenis - it's coiled inside their shell when it's not in use.

Despite having a uterus, Euclydeans are for sure not placental mammals and they definitely don't feed their babies milk. Thanks to Bill asking Ford why he didn't eat Stan while they were in their mom's belly, I have a theory that Euclydeans feed their fetuses via adelphophagy. Also referred to as "intra-uterine cannibalism", adelphophagy basically means that the mother produces a large amount of yolk-rich eggs and deposits them in her uterus. Some of those get fertilized and the others serve as food for her embryo. However, the goal is to nurture just one embryo while the rest will get used as food for it! This is a technique used by some sharks and it fits so well with Euclydeans too, since they, just like sharks and humans give very few births throughout their life - less than 10 and it's almost always to one baby. Adelphophagy is very hard on the mother because she has to produce a huge amount of yolk for her baby to eat, so she will have to have a "recovery period" when she won't be able to get pregnant again.

This also means that Euclydean fetuses have developed teeth and ability to kill and digest their unborn siblings. That is fucked up, but it's normal for them. Hell, human pregnancy could be called "intra-uterine parasitism" because our babies feed on mom's nutrients. And the baby that turns out to be stronger that the other embryos has already passed the natural selection test and is viable to live outside of mom.

Euclydean babies are born with teeth and they are capable of eating the same things that their parents do. They are also born with a very soft shell. Since the mother has to push the baby out of her vagina, just like we do, their babies are super soft and squishy so that they could leave the womb with as little trouble as possible. That super soft exoskeleton is why baby Bill is shown having yellow arms. The shell is as soft as skin and when baby's limbs are retracted into it they can actually use it as skin. Besides, Euclydeans are cold-blooded so babies, who are smaller and thinner than adults and have very little protection might want to keep their limbs inside the shell as a means of keeping warm.

There's one part here about males that I didn't talk about and that's the hat. The hat is a living part of a Euclydean and out of Bill's parents only one is shown having it. Since Bill has it too and he's a male, his father was the one with the hat. But what is the hat? Well, "if it doesn't make sense it's used to attract females" is a saying in biology for a reason. Euclydean girls are seemingly attracted to males who have long and muscular hats. Besides, Bill himself says outright that he has a "seduction hat" and it's just a comically large cylinder.

So Euclydeans are sexually dimorphic species: the males are characterized by having a large growth in a shape of a cylinder hat on top of their head which females lack.

2. Growth and development

Baby Euclydeans are all soft and squishy, but they will harden as they grow. The shell gets more triangular as it hardens. The babies probably have very soft skin on their limbs too and that's why their parents give them shoes to wear to protect their little feet.

Interestingly, Euclydean eyes grow with them which is a rarity among Earth animals.

Also, I am aware that Bill said that he's a preteen, but he's lying. He has adult proportions and a fully developed hat. Hat develops as the male matures, so preteens wouldn't have it. Bill is an adult with emotional maturity of a preteen and he's using that as an excuse for his behavior. He sucks.

Also they aren't born without limbs, I screwed that up, the limbs are inside the shell, that's what I wanted to say, but I'm not English.

One very interesting thing that I noticed is that Bill's juvenile form has two rows of bricks, but his adult form has three. This means that he adds segments as he grows and there's only one way for that to occur - MOLTING!

Like all animals with exoskeleton, Euclydeans molt. Molting is a process of replacing the old, small exoskeleton with a new larger one as the animal grows. Some animals, like millipedes, add extra segments during molting process until they reach adult size. This is the case with Euclydeans.

This is confirmed to me by that little bit about Fiddleford seeing Bill remove his exoskeleton to feed. Removing the exoskeleton to eat would be the worst adaptation ever, not only because removing the exoskeleton takes a lot of time, but also because the animal would be completely unprotected during a very vulnerable time such as feeding. So what I think happened was that Bill was changing his exoskeleton to look all shiny when he comes out of the portal and, since molting is a very energy demanding process, he wanted a snack afterwards. And Fiddleford barged at the worst moment.

The exoskeleton of Euclideans contains their pigments, so they need to wait for it to fully harden until they gain color and the skin becomes invisible under it again. They are soft and vulnerable in this stage. And, considering how Alex Hirsch draws Bill in human form, I headcanon that Bill is a bit chubby, which you can see here XD

But, I know what my freaky fanfic authors need to know: Could Euclydeans and humans have sex?

Well, since Euclydeans are as intelligent or even more intelligent than humans, you can discuss consent. And with that, have fun. There are definitely ways Ford could have fucked that triangle.

@unoriginal-starwalker thank you for your support with this. My degree is burning in hell together with me after being used to write this.

[serpentface]

may i have the 10 wholly unasked for paragraphs of semen retention belief lore please 🙏

Ok

MEDICAL MODEL:

The philosophical core of Wardi medical model revolves around the universe’s primal dualism- it exists in between the extremes of Sea (cold wet dark female) and Sky (hot dry bright male). These forces are sterile and stagnant when separate, God emerged at their interacting boundaries as their synthesis, capable of creation. Life itself required God’s sacrifice of Its living spirit and the shedding of Its blood, which rendered sterile earth fertile and inhabitable and kicked of the perpetual death-rebirth flow of living spirit that maintains all life. The body is a reflection of this primordial state- it is maintained by the flow of living spirit (contained in the blood), and its core matter is an interactive mixture of primordial Hot Sky and Cold Sea, Warm in balance, with male and female physically differentiated by the presence of primordial extremes- the male has Hot testes, the female has Cold womb, the interaction of these extremes allow for creation.

(I promise this will have to do with semen retention eventually.)

Blood is understood as carrying the body’s living spirit, the animating force whose proper flow maintains life and health by balancing the body’s primordial extremes. Semen is a type of blood, given Hot nature by its isolation in the testes, and also carries the living spirit. It functions as the active seed of the living spirit. It is the Hot element planted in the Cold of the womb, the mingling of these forces allow for creation, and insemination with living spirit creates a living body that can host an immortal soul. (Wardi belief describes two souls- a living spirit that animates and maintains the body and an immortal soul that houses the mind).

Male gender designation revolves almost entirely around the testes, the Hot extreme of the body where semen is (assumed to be) produced and stored. In addition to its procreative functions, the testes are an organ whose function is to masculinize and strengthen the rest of the body. Each organ requires the proper flow of healthy blood/living spirit to function properly, and thus loss of this living spirit must be performed with great care- bloodletting in offering is highly controlled, bloodletting in medicine is carefully selected and done in accordance with balancing procedure. Since testes are regulated specifically by the living spirit in semen, semen should not be discharged with reckless abandon.

SOCIAL SEXUAL NORMS:

Cultural ideals for sexual behavior revolve around moderation and self-restraint. Sexuality itself is not demonized. There is nothing wrong with nonprocreative/nonmaritial sex in of itself (unless it is adultery on the part of a woman (male adultery is ostensibly bad too but is rarely treated as gravely), or a girl losing virginity prior to marriage, or it violates a litany of gender-sexual norms), but sexual RESTRAINT is an expectation.

Having an active but controlled libido is idealized, particularly in men. A man who is an absolute paragon of ideal masculinity has a libido, but is not ruled by it. He does not masturbate and rather seeks a partner for sexual release. He usually has a wife for this, and otherwise is capable of the patience and restraint to attain a quality sexual partner rather than finding the easiest release out of desperation. His partners are suitable to proper male interest, being good looking women or pretty beardless youths (going for 'unseemly' women or older, masculine men (so long as one performs the penetrative role) is not wholly unacceptable but suggests desperation and a weak control of libido).

This is an IDEAL and not strictly enforced- very few people will think you’re a weak failure of a man for jerking off sometimes or bragging about fucking some random tail, and hiring sex workers is entirely normalized (and will only be condemned if deemed notably ‘excessive’ and disruptive to a normal patriarchal role, or truly symptomatic of being unable to get laid without paying for it). Rather, if someone is already identified as a weak or effeminate man, ‘excessive libido’ may be cited as a cause or symptom, or rhetoric to criticize them.

THE SEMEN RETENTION:

Encouragement of semen retention/regulation stems out of both of these forces. Proper masculine social/sexual behavior encourages a limitation to discharge of semen, and medical thought deems it necessary for physical masculinization. A man who does not 'excessively' lose semen via an uncontrolled libido is thought to be physically more masculine- it is assumed to directly make the testes larger since they are Storing More Cum, but also to deepen the voice, assist in the growth and maintenance of the beard, and generally enhance strength, mental acuity, and vitality. Men are regarded as innately physically and mentally stronger than women, with the medical model slapped on as one of the means of explaining patriarchal norms (in addition to spiritual concerns of pollution and metaphysical vulnerability). Regulating semen is one of many behaviors that allows a man to stay this way.

This is also an element in why 'effeminacy' in men is linked to hypersexualization- there is an assumption that men who are physically or behaviorally non-masculine have exaggerated, uncontrolled libidos. Effeminancy or ‘softness’ in men is a failure to perform a wide set of behaviors and not strictly an accusation of receiving penetrative sex, but this is often an element- a man who receives is presumed so desperate and out of control of his libido that he will submit to debasement and shame for fulfillment (an un-masculine man who cannot be a penetrative partner could at least retain his dignity by having enough self-control to abstain entirely).

Some scholars, high ranking warriors, and politicians will (at least claim to) be functionally celibate and refrain from all discharge of semen in order to function at peak performance. This total abstinence is rare and NOT culturally mandated, and is often looked on with a little snide derision as a tryhard performance. More commonly, men will attempt to live a life with a controlled libido, and may temporarily abstain from sexual activity leading up to situations that require physical and mental acuity (combat, debate, sport, etc).

Of most concern to the average day to day person is accidental loss through nocturnal emission. While this is harmless every once in a while, it is cause for concern if it occurs frequently- your body is discharging part of its living spirit completely outside of your control, you are directly weakened by this and you don’t want this happening on a regular basis. Recurrent, frequent episodes may indicate polluted blood, or outright inhabitation by evil spirits.

The only level on which semen retention tends to be actively, directly enforced is with children. Teenage boys are typically discouraged from masturbating (especially during the early stages of puberty)- retention of semen masculinizes the body, therefore will contribute to a healthy and normative puberty and should be preserved at this vulnerable time. It is considered normal to chastise and punish a pubescent boy for masturbation. This is seen as preventing him from harming his health, and to teach him to regulate desire and exercise self control, one of many facets of shaping a boy into a proper man during this critical time. This norm does not contribute to children developing lingering psychological issues AT ALL.

Wardi traditional medicine is a holistic methodology of spiritual/physical treatment, using a base system of items (foods, animal parts, herbs, metals, stones) with Hot or Cold properties and individual Essences to manage imbalances in the body and it's blood/spirit flow and dispel evil spirits. This medical system (and related subdivisions of folk medicine) is commonly used to treat nocturnal emissions, and may also be used to lower libido and/or discourage teenage masturbation. These are largely medicines with Cold properties and noted anaphrodisiac Essence. Eels are a big one- given that eels, obviously, are sexless and emerge from river mud, their bodies are anaphrodisiacs and consumption of eel meat/eel based tinctures can lower libido (this should be done with caution, as it also lowers fertility in humans and animals). Medicines may be directly applied to the penis, this does not interfere with the intended function of the testes but subdues excess lust. Phallic amulets are worn regardless of gender and have holistic nonsexual protective properties, but may also help defend against nocturnal emission. Other medicines are worn in sachets that are tied around the hips during sleep, often weighted with lead. In very severe cases (mostly associated with other dysfunction), the penis or testes may be infected with polluted blood and should be bled.

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Tangent: If the Wardi community had reddit you would occasionally see threads like "DAE eat their semen after masturbating so you don't actually lose any?" and most responses would be "no wtf" but there would be a decent number of people going "omg yes I thought I was the only one" "I mean that's kind of weird but I guess it makes sense if you really think about it" and then one very angry commenter ranting about how, No, eating your semen DOES NOT suffice as mitigation of the loss, this is why so many boys are SOFT AND EFFEMINATE these days, the men of old NEVER jacked off and NEVER ate their own cum and had MUCH FULLER BEARDS AND LARGER TESTICLES.

[radfemfessing]

I noticed that a lot businesses are still making employees do a daily temp check at their shift start and keeping a log of that info. While it's good to know you're not showing signs of illness, it's impossible to shake the thought of men in power using that data to track their female employees' fertility cycle.

I don't subscribe to conspiracies but with all the globe becoming more and more controling of women by the day, I get a sick feeling thinking about how this can be used against us. With talks of sentencing us to the death penalty for having a miscarriage, and Poland inventing a test to check for such meds, how can anyone not be nervous?

🌻

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Was she or was she not born with a vulva?

That's all I care about. Whether a condition she has should or should not disqualify a certain woman from a certain sport is a different conversation.

But if she was born with a vagina, I don't care if she has a Y chromosome ffs. She's a woman. Before the discovery of chromosomes, women and girls were identified by vulvas. Does material reality matter when it comes to womanhood and oppression, or does it fucking not?

You can't see chromosomes. You can see genitals. No, not at all the time, and yes, we can tell by secondary and tertiary sex characteristics the vast majority of the time. But not all the time. Some people genuinely look androgynous or even like the opposite sex. It's rare, but it happens.

Some women have gotten by in history by posing as men. I, a fertile female, have been mistaken for male when I've let my upper lip hair grow! If we looked back through history and exhumed the bodies of women who posed as men, say, Dr James Barry, and found that she had XY chromosomes, does it make her less of a woman in history trying to practice medicine in a time when women weren't allowed to? Whose accomplishments were discredited when they gave her an autopsy and found her to be female (because she had a vulva)? Is it really just misdirected misogyny if a baby is born with the very female organ that men try to control, if it turns out she's actually a male who didn't develop properly in the womb?

Personally, no, I don't think so. Those are my sisters. They are not whole ass men developing a fantasy of what being women is and playing at being women and invading our spaces and taking up our resources. They are not even like David Reimer who was born as an intact male, had his genitals destroyed, had to use a colostomy bag, and whose parents attempted to raise as a girl. They were born and treated as girls.

Tell me, if you heard right now about a woman from 200 years ago who posed as a man to get an education, fight in war, etc. and never had any children, you wouldn't be happy to learn about her, you wouldn't see her as an icon. But it's entirely possible the reason she didn't have children and was able to pass as a man is because she was technically male with a DSD! So is that suddenly not a woman's accomplishment? How is that different from transing historical figures? Shrodinger's female accomplishments until a chromosome test?

An XX female with an SRY gene activated will develop as an infertile male. Is he one of us because of his fucking chromosomes? With a whole ass penis?

Like, come the fuck on. A lot of people here lately seem to really want to be the "TERF" stereotype. Literally seeing people arguing that being born with a vulva doesn't count because of neovulvas! Are you fucking kidding me?!? What happened to the vagina and clitoris being organs whereas neovulvas are an open wound that doesn't and can't function as more than a hole? Suddenly it's similar enough that only chromosomes count? Come off it!

Again, I'm not talking about whether a woman with XY chromosomes should be playing in certain sports. I don't know enough to have a fully formed opinion on that.

It's the way people are insisting on calling them men that's pissing me off. You do not know enough to do that. If they were born with malformed penises, fine! Have at it! But we have no evidence of that. All we know is that they *probably* have XY chromosomes. That says nothing about whether they have Swyer Syndrome, CAIS, or another XY DSD I'm not aware of where the babies are born with female genitalia.

Just, enough. If you want to talk about whether the tiny percentage of women with XY chromosomes have automatic advantages (I think they likely do, but again I don't know) over non-DSD females, talk about that. You can do that without calling women with DSDs men.

[evidence-based-activism]

I understand if you don’t want to answer this, but I am genuinely asking. Can a woman with a DSD and a Y chromosome give birth? Are they still a woman if they have a Y chromosome?

I don’t think so for either but people are claiming otherwise and I’d like the facts

Hi! I understand the confusion!

I recommend this (heavily sourced) Intersex Genetics Masterpost [1].

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To answer your question "can a woman with a DSD and a Y chromosome give birth?":

In general, most individuals with a DSD with a Y-chromosome (e.g., CAIS, 5ARD, etc.) cannot give birth at all because they do not have a uterus. There are two (sort of) exceptions:

Swyer Syndrome / 46, XY Complete Gonadal Dysgenesis:

This DSD only affects biologically male individuals, due to a genetic mutation disrupting Wolffian structure (male sex organ) development, these individuals instead develop female external and (some) female internal sex organs (i.e., because the female sex development is essentially the default pathway).

They usually develop a uterus but they do not develop functional gonads (ovaries or testes). As such, they do not have any eggs or sperm and are infertile.

However, there have been some individuals with Swyer syndrome who have carried and given birth to a child, using donor eggs and fairly extensive medical fertility interventions (i.e., beyond the standard IVF interventions). However, this is considered very rare [2] and it involves the use of donor eggs. (There are ethical, feminist considerations about the surrogacy/fertility industry, but that's a topic for another post).

XX/XY Mosaicism:

This DSD occurs when "a fraternal twin absorbs its twin zygote at some point in pregnancy, adding the twin’s DNA to different locations in its body, sometimes mixing the DNA sometimes not".

The individual's sex depends on the genetic material in the gonadal tissue (e.g., the tissue that develops into ovaries or testes) an individual with XX gonadal genetics will develop as female, even if the majority of the rest of the body's cells are XY. (For anyone with a bit of genetics experience, this should make sense: even in an XX female you have X-inactivation so that (mostly at least) only one X chromosome is active in each cell.) In other words, the tissue that determines what sexual development process to start (Wolffian or Mullerian) is what determines the phenotype sex of the individual.

As a result of this, you can find an extremely rare case (as in, I can find no other cases) of an individual with predominately XY genetic material (i.e., outside the gonads) can develop a female phenotype, get pregnant, and give birth to children.

Both of these DSD are extremely rare. In each case they are still "of" a specific sex. In other words, if they did not have the genetic mutation resulting in their DSD they would have developed the ability to produce only one type of gamete (either eggs or sperm). As such, they are still either male or female, just with a DSD that results in a substantial phenotypic difference.

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To answer your question "are they still a woman if they have a Y chromosome?":

If we go by a strict definition: only individuals who are "of the sex" that produces the larger gamete (whether or not they actually do so) are female and only adult female humans are women.

However, there are some biologically male individuals (e.g., people with Complete Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome or Swyer Syndrome) who develop an near-normal externally female phenotype (although they are infertile). These individuals will not know they are not biologically female, and may not ever know (e.g., if they don't have access to medical care capable of diagnosing them). Unfortunately, they will also have (potentially extensive) medical problems.

Personally, my belief is that if someone would be recognized and treated like a woman prior to the advent of modern medical technology, they should be considered a woman now. (And the same for men.) Obviously, they need to work with a doctor to manage their health issues, but these are private medical matters that will have little to no impact on how they experience the world (e.g., how they are perceived and treated). In other words, some biologically male individuals have a DSD that results in the assumption of a female sex from birth; these people will experience the world in similar or identical ways to a infertile (possibly disabled) woman.

As a note, there is also an argument for anyone who is either observed or assigned female at birth to be considered a woman. I understand the argument here, and it would be a useful short hand. Unfortunately, however, I don't think this would adequately consider the nuances of all DSDs, as there are some that result in an individual who was AFAB later (i.e., during puberty) developing a near-normal male phenotype. While this individual's childhood (and possibly adult) experiences are very different than a healthy male, they will not be perceived and treated as women following puberty.

Ultimately, these conditions are extremely rare. The estimate for any true DSD (i.e., either a mismatch between genotype and phenotype or ambiguous primary sex organs) is about 0.018% [4, 5]. (See [4] for a scientific article and [5] for a blog post discussing this data). This means that more than 99.98% of babies are recognizably and correctly identified as either male or female at birth. It would also suggest there are currently less than 1.5 million intersex individuals in the entire world.

References under the cut:

The Intersex Genetics Masterpost. Everything You Could Ever Want to Know | by 21ohdef | Medium. 30 June 2024, https://web.archive.org/web/20240630160344/https://medium.com/@21ohdef/the-intersex-masterpost-bb5a6250e6d6.

Taneja J, Ogutu D, Ah-Moye M. Rare successful pregnancy in a patient with Swyer Syndrome. Case Rep Womens Health. 2016 Oct 18;12:1-2. doi: 10.1016/j.crwh.2016.10.001. PMID: 29629300; PMCID: PMC5885995.

Dumic M, Lin-Su K, Leibel NI, Ciglar S, Vinci G, Lasan R, Nimkarn S, Wilson JD, McElreavey K, New MI. Report of fertility in a woman with a predominantly 46,XY karyotype in a family with multiple disorders of sexual development. J Clin Endocrinol Metab. 2008 Jan;93(1):182-9. doi: 10.1210/jc.2007-2155. Epub 2007 Nov 13. Erratum in: J Clin Endocrinol Metab. 2008 Mar;93(3):1083. PMID: 18000096; PMCID: PMC2190741.

Sax, L. (2002). How common is intersex? A response to Anne Fausto-Sterling. Journal of Sex Research, 39(3), 174–178. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490209552139

Wright, C. (2020). Intersex Is Not as Common as Red Hair. Reality’s Last Stand. https://www.realityslaststand.com/p/intersex-is-not-as-common-as-red