#human pet

[squishysoftmonsters]

Triggers : Sexual Content/Expansion/Inflation/Ovipositor[Mature +18 Minors /Ageless DNI]

💚Imagine saying good night to your monster lover,who happens to be a cuddly warm moth that plans to keep and breed you,because they fell madly in love. Your innocent kindness wormed its way into their heart!

Being full at night or any time for the matter is always good. Even if your body creaked or clattered You craved more eggs! Your hunger to be plump was insatiable and thirst to lay them could not be staved off. Was it something your kind lover did to you?

the deeper they went,the more you squealed and spurted in delight,full to the max with eggs and inflated with hot seed. You would orgasm during laying the eggs.. But after they were layed,You demanded more,and your lover gladly obliged,as you would beg on your knees for it.

Goodnight my dear..I will always keep you full. Of course,that's what my little human enjoys! Yes my little breeder! You're mine! 💚

🥚PSPSPSPS E G G L O V E R S

We need an egg tag of being full of eggs and blowing off steam at the same time...Eggspansion?Eggasm?🥚

[chillis-woof-stuff]

Cute Bernese pup Jessy from the UK 💖💖

Hood and collar by chillis woof stuff ♡

[playedcrowd5610]

Starscream runs into a human on a mission and can’t seem to get rid of this pest no matter how hard he tries. He shoots him, throws him, and blows him up. Yet he keeps coming back! Now the brat has decided that harassing Starscream is his new passion project. And maybe the Decepticon air commander doesn’t mind it as much as he lets on.

Or Danny accidentally comes across a huge alien mech trying to steal from an observatory and decides that he has nothing better to do than haunt this guy and all his alien friends back on his warship. Danny needed a place to crash anyway.

[edging-foxy-bimbo]

I am not allowed on furniture without explicit permission. Sir doesn't want the furniture marked with juices of my naked cunt. Panties are strictly forbidden for me as Sir prefers easy access to His property.

I am to stay on the floor, kneeling either at His feet or in the designated space where I have my blanket and water bowl left.

Even if He invites His Friends, or we are visiting Them I must obey and sit on the floor on my bare ass.

Sometimes they ignore me totally like the dog that doesn’t understand anything. Sometimes, they play with me, making me sit on the dildo or fetch toys. Sometimes they ask Sir if they can fuck me and dump some cum in my mouth; He always allows that.

I am an owned pet. I have to obey.

[unforgivenn]

hii y'all. Soo this idea has been in my mind for like so fucking long aaanddd I can't just let it be. >.<

So basically when people turn a certain age depending on their social status they're classified either as humans or livestock. The system is pretty fucked up. Those labelled as livestock lose all their human rights because, apparently, they don't deserve them.

Parents disown their kids not able to fully believe that they'd just been rearing livestock this whole time. It's heartbreaking for their children to hear this. They're still the same person!! Their life can't change just because of a single document!!

These people or if you can even call them that anymore, are classified into many different categories like workers, pets and experimental subjects by going through a test. Or if they deem out too useless, they're turned to meat. (haha yes, I'm being serious T_T)

People with high social status live in luxury, while those at the bottom suffer terribly. Since these people are no longer considered human, it doesn't matter what happens to them. They can be tortured, raped, or killed, and no one would care. They still have feelings, but in this society, that doesn't matter at all. It's a world where the rich have all the power.

Should I turn this into a story? ^^

LINK TO THE STORY

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

Attention, Affection

Wandanat x human pet!fem!reader

Summary: Wanda and Natasha have been looking for a pet for some time, but they've had no luck until they meet you, will you be a good fit for their lives?

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: 18+ due to themes, MDNI, heavy pet play, human pets, abuse, violence, hurt/comfort

Authors notes: A look into the life of Agatha and Scratchy~

Scratchy enjoyed her life with Agatha, despite the complexities of their relationship. Agatha spoiled her rotten with the finest treats, the softest bedding, and an array of toys that could make any pet envious. The large, luxurious house had plenty of space for Scratchy to roam, and Agatha always ensured Scratchy had everything she needed for comfort and happiness.

However, there was one area where their relationship faltered: physical affection. Scratchy, with her soft dove gray flopped ears and cotton ball tail, often longed for the warmth of a hug or the gentle strokes of a loving hand. But whenever she sought out more intimate contact, Agatha would stiffen, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't that Agatha didn't care for Scratchy; she simply didn't know how to provide the comfort Scratchy sought.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Scratchy approached Agatha, her eyes pleading for a bit of comfort. She nestled closer to Agatha on the couch, her small body trembling slightly with the need for affection. Agatha, caught off guard, responded with a mixture of irritation and confusion.

"Scratchy, not now," Agatha muttered, pushing her gently away. When Scratchy persisted, snuggling closer and nuzzling against her, Agatha's patience wore thin. "I said, not now!"

Scratchy flinched at the harshness of Agatha's tone but couldn't suppress the longing for connection. She looked up at Agatha with wide, hopeful eyes. Agatha, feeling cornered and uncomfortable, lashed out in frustration. "Why can't you just be satisfied with what you have?"

Hurt, Scratchy pulled away, her ears drooping more than normal. She retreated to her corner of the room, curling up on her plush bed, tears welling up in her eyes. She didn't understand why Agatha couldn't provide the affection she craved. Was she not loveable enough? Did she not provide enough? Why would Agatha keep her around if she didn't love her?

Soft sniffles came from Scratchy that didn't go unnoticed by Agatha, but she couldn't deal with the emotions at the moment as she tried to relax from the work day. Once Agatha had gotten up and left the room was when Scratchy let her tears flow freely. She just wanted some physical affection. No amount of toys or treats could fill the hole left in her heart from lack of touch.

Later that night, Agatha felt a pang of guilt. She knew she had handled the situation poorly but didn't know how to bridge the gap between them. With a sigh, she approached Scratchy's bed and knelt beside her.

"Scratchy," she began softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just... I'm not good at this. But I do care about you."

Scratchy looked up, her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears and reddened from the earlier crying session. She reached out tentatively, her small hand brushing against Agatha's. Agatha hesitated for a moment before finally, awkwardly, wrapping her arms around Scratchy in a tentative embrace.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start. Scratchy nestled into Agatha's embrace, her heart swelling with hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could figure this out together.

=====================

While Agatha was busy with her work, Scratchy found herself with plenty of time during the day. Agatha had never asked her to help with household chores, but Scratchy felt it made the day go by quicker and gave her a sense of purpose. It also seemed to make Agatha happy, even if she didn't always show it.

Each morning, Scratchy would start with tidying up the living room. She'd fluff the pillows, dust the shelves, and make sure everything was in its place. The rhythmic motions of cleaning were soothing, and she enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing the room looking neat and tidy.

Next, she moved on to the kitchen. She would wash the dishes, wipe down the counters, and occasionally prepare a simple lunch for Agatha. Scratchy had learned a few basic recipes from watching cooking shows, and she took pride in surprising Agatha with a fresh sandwich or a bowl of soup.

One afternoon, while Scratchy was folding laundry, Agatha walked in, her brow furrowed from the stress of work. She paused, watching Scratchy for a moment before speaking. "Darling, you don't have to do all this, you know."

Scratchy looked up, her dove gray ears flopping slightly. "I know," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I like to help. It helps keep me busy when you’re working."

Agatha sighed, a mixture of frustration and appreciation in her expression. "Well, thank you. I do appreciate it, even if I don't always say it."

Scratchy smiled, a small but genuine smile, and continued folding the clothes. Agatha watched her for another moment before she moved over, giving Scratchy a kiss on the top of her head then returning to her work, a little less stressed than before. Scratchy being left there frozen with a flushed face. Agatha had never given her a kiss before.

As the days went on, Scratchy's routine remained the same. She found comfort in the chores, and Agatha, though still awkward with physical affection, began to show her appreciation in small ways. A gentle pat on the head, a quiet "thank you," or a rare but heartfelt hug. Even more rare was the kisses to her head. They would come at random moments, but Scratchy enjoyed them the most.

===========

It happened one evening, Scratchy had fallen asleep curled up on her bed in the living room. The fireplace crackled beside her and soft classical music played from the television. It would make any hybrid fall asleep really.

Scratchy was only woken when she felt weightless. Nose twitching, she smelt Sandalwood; Agatha. Eyes fluttering open, her owner was carrying her to the couch. Agatha was in her pajamas already as she laid the two of them down.

It felt like a dream come true to feel and hear Agatha's heartbeat. It practically lulled Scratchy back to sleep, but Agatha started to speak.

“You know you're very special to me sweetheart. I didn't just pick you out, I made sure you were the best fit for me. I watched you at the pet store. I saw how you behaved with everyone. How you sought out affection from others. I knew what I was getting when I picked you and I did that for a reason.” She tapped Scratchy's cheek lightly, signaling for her to look at her. “I needed more affection in my life. I was always so unsure of it and I do want it. I would just rather initiate it.” Scratchy nodded and a small smile was on her lips.

“I can work with that.” Her soft, small voice came out. Agatha smiled before leaning forward and giving Scratchy a kiss on the forehead.

“You are my precious bunny. I'm so glad to have you in my life.” Scratchy nuzzled back against Agatha trying to hide the flush on her face. “Oh before I forget we were invited over for a play date tomorrow with Wanda and Natasha’s new pup. She seems to have liked you according to them.”

Scratchy’s little floof of a tail started moving like crazy, remembering the puppy she had met a few weeks prior. She seemed really nice. Scratchy wiggled out of Agatha’s arms needing to binky to get the excitement out which made Agatha smile at her precious bunny. She couldn’t think of having an other companion to share her days and nights with.

[notquitehuman-creations]

🐾self portrait🐾

[Apollo, he/it/they]

also pupsona ref(base by wolfdoq)

[voxhypno]

25 DAYS OF HYPSMAS - DAY 9

"Journey"

In my years as a hypnotist, and just interacting with the general community, I've noticed that the aspect that a good deal of people gravitate towards in terms of hypnotic play is the end result. The kind of slave or slut or bimbo that you'll end up as, how empty your head will be, how mindlessly you'll slip into obedience, what kind of programs and routines will be baked into your being. And this is, granted, a very hot thing to think about.

But it's important to enjoy the journey towards that end goal as well. Every trance, every command, every snap or spiral is a positive step along your path to pure hypnotized bliss, and that's worth savoring!

I'd like to remind you all today to relish in how easily your mind twists and shifts when your trigger is spoken. Bask in the feeling that bubbles up in your brain when you find yourself no longer able to read that big word, or solve that math problem.

And never forget that hypnosis is a journey, and there's no reason to think that you couldn't get where you want to be.

But then again, for you, there's no reason to think anyway.

[chillis-woof-stuff]

He's so gorgeous 💕💕

[smoketootough]

ohhhh i forgot i post here too

[ishtea]

i just want to be called a good boy/girl and be fed and petted like a spoiled pet tbh

i just wanna lay in your lap and mindlessly eat while happily accepting tummy rubs and praise, following behind you like a good boy around the house on all fours, and lazing around napping contently

i would ✨thrive✨ being owned and spoiled by someone, not allowed to be human anymore, just a mindless fat pet :3

[unforgivenn]

16th HOUR - #6: Under Hammer

Masterlist/ Previous

CW: Violence, Dehumanisation, Slavery, Drugging, Family rejection, Non-con Handling

Samuel’s pulse raced as the curtains parted, revealing a dimly lit room filled with rows of seats. The audience sat in shadows, their faces hidden, yet he could feel their eyes on him—cold, calculating, eager. The auctioneer, a tall man with a slick appearance, stood at the front of the stage, his voice booming as he introduced the event.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight’s auction!! We have a special treat for you—a handsome young man, in excellent condition! Perfect for your collection or personal use.”

Samuel’s heart pounded in his chest. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck His mind screamed in protest, but his body was paralyzed with fear. What the fuck, what the fuck, Somebody please get me out The room felt like a nightmare, the air thick with anticipation and depravity. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck Every step he took felt like a march toward doom, his chains clinking softly against the polished floor. What the fu-

“Present the item,” the auctioneer commanded.

A handler pushed Samuel forward, and he stumbled, the chains around his ankles preventing him from catching his balance. He fell to his knees, the rough wood biting into his skin. The audience murmured among themselves excitedly, some even squealing and giggling. Samuel’s face burned with humiliation, but he forced himself to stand, his legs trembling.

“Please... let me go,” he whispered, barely audible. The handler yanked him upright, ignoring his plea. Not like he expected the man to listen to him anyways.

“Head up,” the auctioneer snapped. “Show them what they’re bidding on.”

Samuel lifted his head, meeting the gaze of the audience. The best he could do right now was listen. He wanted to scream and shout as much as he could though that didn't seem like such a good idea in a place filled with strangers, and guards with guns across their chests. Especially if he wanted to avoid pain. The faces he saw were devoid of empathy, their eyes glinting with greed and curiosity. They saw him as a product, an object to be bought and sold. It made his stomach churn with revulsion.

“Look at his build, his complexion,” the auctioneer continued, walking around Samuel, gesturing at him like he was a piece of meat. “Healthy, strong, and obedient. Perfect for any household. We don't get such men much. I'd consider this a special one then.” The auctioneer winked and laughed, though Samuel felt like puking.

Obedient. The word echoed in Samuel’s mind. He wanted to scream, to fight, to break free, but he knew it was futile. The system was designed to crush any semblance of rebellion, to strip away every ounce of humanity.

The bidding started, voices rising from the darkness. Samuel’s thoughts swirled in a chaotic mix of fear, anger, and despair. How had it come to this? How had he gone from being a person with dreams and aspirations to a mere item on a stage?

“Do I hear one million? One million, thank you. One point five? Two million, excellent!!,” the auctioneer’s voice droned on, each number driving a nail deeper into Samuel’s soul.

He remembered his family, the way they looked at him when the classification results came in. The disbelief, the horror, and ultimately, the cold rejection. They couldn’t accept that their son was now livestock, a being stripped of rights and dignity. They didn't care. The memory was a knife to his heart, the pain as fresh as the day it happened.

“Three million, ladies and gentlemen. Three million for this fine specimen. Do I hear three point five?”

A wave of nausea washed over Samuel. He felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of his helplessness. The air seemed to thicken, pressing in on him from all sides. He wanted to disappear, to escape this twisted reality-

“Three point five! Going once, going twice—”

“Four million.”

The voice was cold, authoritative. It sliced through the murmur of the crowd, drawing all attention. The auctioneer paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he regained his composure.

“Four million. Do I hear four point five?”

Silence. The room was thick with tension, the bidders hesitant. No one else dared to challenge the new bidder. The auctioneer smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Four million, going once, going twice—sold!”

The gavel came down with a resounding thud, sealing Samuel’s fate. He felt a sickening lurch in his stomach, the finality of it crashing over him like a wave. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, his chains rattling in the oppressive silence.

“Congratulations to the winning bidder,” the auctioneer announced. “You’ve acquired a truly exceptional specimen.”

The handler hauled Samuel to his feet, dragging him off the stage. The curtains closed behind him, cutting off the view of the audience. Samuel’s mind was a whirlpool of emotions—fear, anger, despair—all mixing into a nauseating cocktail that threatened to overwhelm him.

He was led down a dim corridor, the oppressive atmosphere pressing in on him. His thoughts raced, trying to grasp onto any shred of hope, but there was none. He was a prisoner in this twisted system, a pawn in a game he didn’t understand.

The handler shoved him into a small, windowless room. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the confined space. Samuel sank to the floor, his body shaking with silent sobs. He was alone, trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight.

As the hours passed, Samuel’s mind wandered. He thought of his family, his friends, the life he had lost. He thought of the government that had condemned him, the society that had turned its back on him. He felt a burning rage, a deep-seated anger at the injustice of it all.

"Why?"

There was no answer, only the cold, unyielding silence. Samuel curled up on the floor, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile attempt to find comfort. "Why why why why why?!!" His thoughts drifted to the future, to the unknown fate that awaited him. "FUCK WHY?!" He tried to steel himself, to prepare for whatever horrors lay ahead, and to just not cry but it seemed impossible now. He was being sold. Like someone who had no life, no thoughts, no family.

The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. Samuel looked up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. The man was tall and impeccably dressed. He had expected some fat, old, pervert which this man was definitely not. He could still be a pervert but he wanted to cancel that situation out the most.

“Hello.” he said, his voice smooth and condescending slightly leaning down to see Samuel's face properly.

This fucker. He was talking to him like one would to a cat. Swears were burning up at his throat with tears that unfortunately only heavied when he saw the man. He wanted to punch, kick, swear, kill him but the only thing he managed out was- "G-Get away.."

The man’s gaze remained impassive, his eyes cold and calculating as he took in Samuel’s defiant posture. “Oh, come now,” he said, his tone patronizing yet unbothered by the hostility. “I’m here to finalize the details of your new life. You’ll find it’s quite different from the one you’ve left behind.”

Samuel’s heart raced faster, the blood pounding in his ears. The man’s words seemed to echo in the empty room, mingling with the remnants of Samuel’s fading hope. He could barely focus on the man’s features, his mind a tumult of panic and resignation.

The man continued, unperturbed by Samuel’s pleas. “You should be grateful. Not many get to experience such... exclusive treatment. Rather, you would've already been beaten down for not giving proper respect to your owner.” He gestured dismissively towards the door. “Now, we'll discuss the rules when we reach home.”

Grateful? How could he be grateful for being bought like an object, for having his humanity stripped away? How could anyone be grateful when being treated like this? His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to hold back the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Who... who are you?” Samuel managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

The man straightened, a smile playing on his lips. “My name is Marcus Caldwell. And you, Samuel, are now my property.”

Samuel’s stomach turned at the word. He wasn’t a person anymore, just a possession, a thing to be owned. His mind raced, desperately and he almost didn't even notice the needle now in the man's hand.

"No no no no no noo get away!" The man was on him in seconds with the needle stabbed into his arm. Samuel screeched, his back arching at the rough treatment.

"Shhh.. It's for your safety, love. Just until we reach home."

That wasn't his home. His home was- oh.. he didn't have a home.. Tears filled his eyes with black spots forming in front of them.

Just how many times was he going to be drugged in this life?

Next

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@vampiresprite/ @lucas--43

[edging-foxy-bimbo]

I am allowed to pee only outside, unless Sir feels generous or I earned the priviledge to use Sir's toilet. Otherwise there is no sitting for me.

Females are pets and inferior to Men. Pets don’t use human toilet, and when outside, always pee on all fours.

Once I pee I have to clean myself with hand and then lick it clean. That is to always remind me that I am interior to Him.

Only then i am allowed to rinse myself so my holes are nice and fresh for Him.

[penisdelierious]

Pleaseee play with my holes all day and leave me a wet, needy messssss <3

I wanna scream and cry for release while I take a cock to the baseeeee <3 <3 <3

[tightsweatyclothes]

[beta-captions-for-cucks]

Woof woof. (Whimpers watching) Woof.