#full burst

[majin--vegeta]

[slimeshade]

[hrtmehyer]

thinking about emergency makeshift toilets and how hot they are…

being trapped in a room and really needing to go. all of a sudden, it’s too much and they need to go NOW. they glance around as it starts coming out in their pants, before finding a bucket, pulling their pants down and sighing in relief as the hot liquid pours through and out them and hisses into the bucket. the splattering of their piss fills the room as they whine in relief. reality sinks in as their stream tapers off and they flush a dark red as they realise they just pissed in a bucket like an animal.

hot as fuck.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 2

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

You don’t often use your MyFet beyond finding a group or conference to attend. You periodically clear out your messages, just in case an acquaintance wants to reach out. So you almost delete the message from the anonymous profile on autopilot, but the subject line intrigues you.

Interested in Distance Play, No Punishments - 14 Hrs Ago

Intrigued, you open it because… at least they read a little bit of your profile.

I noticed your profile because of your self-rope pictures. The rest of your profile is very interesting to me - specifically your engagement in solo play and dislike of punishment. I liked the post you made about obedience as an ongoing active choice.

I’m a man in my 30s with a classified job. I travel a lot, and I’m looking for someone to have a strictly long-distance arrangement with. I’m interested in: non-restrictive rope, obedience, behavior modification, praise. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve written this message six times. Please let me know if you’re interested in discussing.

Well, that’s refreshingly straightforward and devoid of unsolicited smut. You read the message again, then click into his profile. G_987654321_ It’s… pretty bare. But if he’s got a classified job, that makes sense, right? Location: Antarctica. His age is listed as 33, and he’s listed himself as dominant and seeking acquaintances and play partners. Not interested in hookups, interested in casual nudity, obedience, praise. Hard limits of degradation and humiliation.

It’s not much more information than the message itself, but it’s more than some of the men who have asked if you want to meet up in private. You review his original message and bite your knuckle. Worst case scenario, he’s some troll who will call you a range of slurs and waste your time, and then you’ll block him. Best case scenario… he means what he says.

What are you looking for? Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

You send the message and log out of the app before you can chicken out. Your inner voice is grumbling (stupid stupid stupid), but that’s normal. You let yourself watch two and a half episodes of your latest show, and then make a hearty dinner.

You’re surprised when you pick your phone back up. One new message.

The whole time you’re cursing the app for glitching and logging you out and forgetting your password, you’re sure it’s not him. Most likely, it’s an event announcement from a friend or a bot. But you like going to events, so it’s worth it.

It’s a message. It’s from him.

Who: You and Me What: Praise-based, goal-oriented obedience play When: Twice weekly when we’re both available, but I won’t always be available. Sometimes weekly, sometimes a greater time between meet ups. Where: Virtual meetings. Video preferred, audio-only acceptable. First couple of discussions will be text based until I can get secure video set up. Why: Mutual relaxation and well being. Sexual connection preferred, but obviously not required.

Having a guide was helpful. Thank you.

Well… That’s something.

—

You follow Simon towards the fighting, which is not where you wanted to go. When you point this out, he barely acknowledges except to say “You don’t want to go the other way.” So you keep low and stay quiet and breathe like he told you to.

He leads you down a few halls and you don’t bother trying to remember the route. He seems to know where he’s going. One or twice he has you stop while he checks around a corner, but eventually, he herds you into a small conference room. You freeze when you see three men, but Simon drops the muzzle of his gun to the floor, so you must not be in too much danger.

“Who’s this then?” A man in tactical vest and boonie hat steps forward, and you sidle behind Simon before you know your feet are moving. He gives you a considering look before looking to Simon.

The man in question fishes you out from behind his and plants you in front of him with a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Found Bambi wandering the halls.”

Boonie Hat’s eyebrows pop up. “Bambi?”

“’Bout scared the piss out o’me,” Simon confirms.

“Well, that throws a wrench in things,” the other man says. “But there’s nothing for it. Stow her for now, we’ll keep her safe.”

Simon’s hand guides you to the other side of the large table and pushes you gently into a plush rolling chair. He puts his huge body between you and the others, who look at you curiously,

“Eyes up, li’l fawn,” he intones.

You aren’t sure how well you hide the flinch when you see the skull covering his face, again. He’s quiet as you look between his eyes, clasps his gloved hands in his lap so you can see them when you look over him.

There’s a lot of him to look over.

Now that you’re not moving, you can see the brown spots on the edge of his mask, flecked on his tactical vest. His thighs spread a bit beneath his black pants where they meet the table. His biceps bulge, which is a whole different experience in person than it is online. Theres a gun on his hip, and a knife. Two knives. Three. How many knives does a man need?

Enough for everyone’s throats. You have to bite back terrified giggles.

“You’re gonna stay ‘ere,” Simon tells you, interrupting your musing. Your horror must be plain on your face because he shushes you, again. “Shhh. Easy. This wing’s secure. Can’t keep you safe if I’m wonderin’ where you’ve wandered to. Acknowledge.”

“What if something goes wrong?” you blurt.

“You follow Price if you can't see or ‘ear me. ‘e's the Captain, outranks me,” Simon answers. He points to Boonie Hat, then to the black man, who smiles at you, and a white man with a mohawk, who looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. “This is Gaz, that's Soap. You can't find the Captain, you sit tight and wait for one of them to retrieve you."

“But-!”

“Acknowledge, Bambi.”

You swallow back tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“’M goin’ where the guns are,” he answers. “’S my job to take care of you, right? Acknowledge.”

It’s hard to get the words out, but you do. “Acknowledged. You have to take care of me.”

“’M not always going to be able to do that the way you want. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. Not always the way I want.”

“’M gonna keep you safe as I can,” he says. “’Nd it’s okay that you’re scared. But this is my job. ‘S not a scene. So I can’t negotiate. Acknowledge.”

“It’s your job,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Unfortunately, you can feel the day catching up with you, and your eyes start to prickle. “It’s not a scene, we can’t negotiate right now. Acknowledged.”

The one called Gaz approaches from the other side of the table. “Ghost, we’ve got to get moving.”

Before you can integrate the realization that Simon is apparently called Ghost, the other one, Soap, peeks around Simon’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “This your bird, LT? Le’s get her tucked away, aye?”

Something about the way he asks if you are Simon’s bird, his girl, flips a switch in your brain. Because you’re not Simon’s girl. You’re not even supposed to have ever met in person. You’re an online sub, a weird, awkward, anxious person who couldn’t find an in person connection. And yeah, Simon-Also-Called-Ghost is an online Dom but apparently that’s because he’s running around Europe rescuing people from hostage situations!

It’s a little much.

You suck in a breath through your mouth as everything gets blurry with tears. Your whole body shakes with the sob that you try not to let out. You simultaneously want to lock every muscle in place and curl up on the ground to die.

A hiccup shakes you hard enough that you almost fall out of your chair.

Simon’s gloved hand grips the back of your head, and you’re guided to press your forehead against his thigh.

"Shhhhh," he whispers, and you can almost pretend that you’re listening to him in your ear from thousands of miles away. His pants are tough and scratchy, nothing like your pillow, but the steady pressure of his hand is so steadying. "It's okay. I know this isn't a scene, but the same rules apply. You feel overwhelmed, don’t know what to say, you hold up 4 fingers. No punishments for feeling something. Show me."

Holding up 4 fingers feels familiar. The way his hand cups the back of your skull doesn't. But it's still nice.

Sooner than you’d like, Simon guides you down off the chair and under the table. You can’t pay attention to the others, though you can see their boots on the other side of the room. Instead, you keep your eyes on his his right hand, stuck on the inane detail of skeleton themed gloves. Your dom wears skeleton gear to work. His work is killing some people and saving others.

That hand cups your chin and makes you look up into his face. His eyes are dark, piercing. His voice, when he speaks, sends shiver down your spine. “Stay. Acknowledge.”

You’re already about as low down as you can get, but you still duck your head as much as you can while keeping eye contact. “Acknowledged. Stay.”

His thumb caresses your cheek for a long moment. And then he’s standing. Chairs are pushed in to surround you, and four pairs of heavy boots dash from the room.

You curl up, hug yourself, and let the tears fall.

You wake up with a start. Your whole body hurts, shoulder and neck and hips tight like they haven’t been in a long time. And of course they are. You’re on the ground, lying under a conference table. Why the hell are you under a conference table? You’re not in college anymore, you’re too old for this shit.

And then you see a pair of huge boots round the edge of the table and remember.

Your heart is in your throat as two chairs are shifted away and a huge form drops into a crouch. A part of you flinches back from the mask, the tactical clothing, the blood you almost can’t see shining on his boot. But then you see those eyes and think, Oh. You came back for me.

[syn0vial]

in legacy of the force: sacrifice, we see that removing one's boots before entering the house is a non-negotiable rule in the beviin-vasur household, including for fett.

this means that the majority of the scenes taking place in the farmhouse—including the most dramatic—must involve most of the mando characters (fett included) walking around in full armor and socks

[trogdorwasaman22]

It looks like I might as well be going into labor at this point!~🥰🥵🥵

[little-tummy]

I'm so stuffed I think my belly could burst 🫃🏻

[jos-reblog-emporium]

Make me drink lots of water/tea/coffee then wait until I ask to go potty.

Tell me no.

Finger my cunt while I hold. Press down on my bladder. Make it difficult for me to continue to hold. I'm squirming, both turned on and desperate.

Tell me I have to cum without pissing myself.

Then punish me when I make a piss and cum mess on your hand. 😈

[hercarisntyours]

everytime I see her I want to cry from happiness

[littlebunnywinter]

Omo thoughts

When you're so desperate you can't stop squirming, you're leaking every couple of seconds and your bladder is bulging. Then when you ask for permission to use the bathroom they deny you, of course, and laugh/tease you about being desperate. Telling you about how cute your squirming is and how you must be bursting. How full your bladder is and how you want but don't need to use the potty. Best if they use the toilet themselves and tell you about how good the relief was, reminding you that you're not allowed to pee, ever 💛.

[hrtmehyer]

a very underused omo trope is the fake pee. someone absolutely desperate to pee, they can’t hold it any longer. so they’re told to pull down their pants, sit on the toilet, and do nothing. after about two minutes they’re told to get up, pull their pants up and move on.

and they’ll complain that “wait, i still need to pee!” no you don’t, you just peed. and you can’t lie to me and complain you need to go. you just peed. your bladder is empty. now go, you need to replenish all the liquid that you lost. <3

[gossamerrose]

Death and Dream

An old work I left incomplete in my drive but I really wanted to finish it today. I wanted to colour it but this seems better, somehow.

[trogdorwasaman22]

I need someone to rub this overdue daddies belly~

[lupinlupus-blog]

Someone go on a road trip with me so I can drink lots and hold until we get to the destination🤭

[utterperversion]

or, if i had a puppyboy i could train to do anything at all, it would be one that pissed on command for me. two hypno triggers, one to release immediately no matter where he was or what he was wearing, so that i could trigger him to wet himself whenever i wanted. second to ask me for permission to piss, and to piss outside when i say yes. no privacy, pup, just a good mutt who needs to know his place.

Hypno bladder control has always been a huge fantasy for me!!!

I’d looooove a trigger that immediately made my bladder muscles relax! The idea that no matter what I did I wasn’t able to hold piss and it would leak out of my puppycunt is so hottt…

Then a trigger on the opposite end: I’d love to be not able to piss unless given permission! I could just feel my bladder filling up and squeezing my g-spot but I physically couldn’t piss unless someone said something like “piss for me, mutt”.

I absolutely love the idea of someone having full control of my big puppy bladder! I’m too dumb to be in control of it anyways!!

[royalarchivist]

Roier: There, look there! Look! Jaiden: BOBBY? Bobby? Bobby... Bobby are you ok? Roier: Jaiden... that's not Bobby. Jaiden: Are you gonna spawn mobs on us? It is good to see you, I'll be honest. You don't need to spawn anything Bobby, you can just hang out with us again! Just like normal!