#mutt’s whimpers

[braindeaddoggy]

puppy going to the vet and having his body inspected. lips pulled back. fingers pressing down his tongue until he’s drooling. he’s moved onto his back, a gloved hand pinches and tugs at his clit, two thumbs spread his pussy lips to peer inside. how much can his slutty pussy hold? one dildo? two? we’ll see. cold metal prods at his holes, tests his reactions to temperature. he clenches and whines. he’s not used to the cold, but he’s still so docile. he doesn’t even try to run.

not that he could, anyway. he’s too stupid to.

[ace-slut]

NEW BLOG

call me mutt 💕 or good boy... or anything dog coded at all...

about me

20

nonbinary transman (he/it)

hrt ~3 yrs

bi, aroace spec

autistic

dog

switch, mostly sub

t4t enthusiast (dm me to make queer things happen)

DNI minors, ageless blogs, pedos, terfs, other bigots. yall will be blocked :3

this blog contains cnc, fauxcest, and other things like that. not always tagged so pls be aware.

kinks

pet play

bondage

praise

light degradation

sadomasichism

watersports/omo

somno

limits

med play

faucest

cnc

misgendering/detrans

breeding/pregnancy

my og content tags

general text posts #mutt barks

audios #mutt whimpers

pics #mutt pics

long form horny posts #mutt fantasies

ask box #mutt responds

dms are welcome if you're roughly my age. probably won't respond if ur over 30 (or an ageless blog obvi). happy to talk about anything, horny or not. tell me about ur hyperfixations I beg.

[spit-mutt]

needed somewhere to put my thoughts

desperately need to ride someone's thigh while they tell me how pathetic i am

[milktoast-femboy]

stanford pines heal me, heal me stanford pines, heal me stanford pines, heal me fictional old man with a hero complex and a dangerous overconfidence in his abilities to Science his way out of any situation

[yaknowlikenyah]

I like all of those things :)

"I'm a very generous god" Sure, honey. You're a god. I mean if you want I'll treat you like one. Although I've never been particularly good at worship...

I would indeed love to see you on your knees. However. Cuddles.

-🐍

Damn Scales, Harsh my funky fresh vibe why don’t you. :p

It’s funny. I don’t handle dogs just because I want to be railed. I handle dogs because I want devotion. I handle dogs because there’s nothing hotter than someone on their knees drooling with want to be inside me. If I’m begging you should feel honored that I would make such sweet sounds for you. And if I get on my knees it’s with the full intention of reducing you to a whimpering mess.

If you can’t worship, I’ll be happy to teach you how, but the price is blood❤️

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Imagine your vampire husband guiding you onto your werewolf best friend’s cock, cooing softly as you winced in discomfort at the stretch.

“Oh, my little angel… you’re taking it so well, can’t you be a good girl for your dear friend and give him a litter of pups?”

You whimpered, staring down at your friend. His wrists were bound to the bed frame, but you could see in his eyes that all he wanted to do was ravish you, to have his hands all over your soft, delicate body.

But your husband held the reins. He was the one guiding you, digging his nails into the werewolf’s thigh if he bucked his hips upwards a bit too roughly.

Your husband sneered, looking down at your friend with his scarlet eyes.

“Gentle, mutt. Getting to fuck my wife is a privilege that I can take away. Now…”

His voice became gentle again, a purr escaping his lips as his fangs brushed against your neck. “Is it feeling good, my angel? Oh, you want it a little faster?”

Even though you were bouncing on your friend’s cock, you called out your husband’s name. He was the one moving your hips at the perfect pace, rubbing your clit in circles and biting into your neck, your friend was basically just a dildo to your husband.

“There we go, take his knot love. It’ll be uncomfortable for a moment, but you’ll get used to it…”

After leaving both of you a complete mess, your husband untied your friend, then carried you away. “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart. Shh, don’t worry about him… he’s already asleep.”

Your husband ravished you as soon as you were in his bedroom, reveling in the fact that he got to touch you when no one else could.

[annoyinglilbro]

I WANT to be a brat so bad

I want to fight back and make snippy comments and wrestle around and tease but the minute someone says

“Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me? Where’s my good boy?”

The switch in my brain flips SO FAST and I’m a whimpering whiney mess bc like yeah, yeah I wanna be your good boy. That’s me, your good boy is right here hey hi hello please? Please please wanna make you feel so good. Tell me what to do, what do you hmnnnngggg call me good boy again skajsisnwm I’m weak, I’m a weak willed mutt

[nervousmutt]

moaning while giving head like a fucking slut

[braindeaddoggy]

i’m horny, every note is one time i have to come

reblogs count for two

[yeyinde]

You want a baby. Simon can't get over his hangups to give you one. The solution to both problems? Johnny.

18+ SMUT. breeding. mildly dubious consent. Johnny feasts on your pussy and then does his best to knock you up while Simon watches. slight body worship. bastardization of religious imagery. Mean!Dom Simon. rough, messy sex.

He's not the type to saw off his own hand to feed you, but would rather find a third man to satiate you both. The only one who can care for you, he said. Can't do that when he's dead, can he?

Maybe that's why he calls for Johnny.

down boy. eager mutt. lil' pyedogs got himself all twisted up in a rutt. help him, won't you, pet?

Johnny's softer than Simon but only just. This margin of distance, however, could be the gaping maw of a canyon for how wide it really is when scaled down to fit. Boxed inside a narrow bed—on your belly, cheek on Simon's knee; ass up, legs spread. Johnny behind you—colluvium to Simon's mountainside, but still so broad, so thick, your hips twinge with the effort of keeping your knees so wide apart.

You feel it whistling through the chasm when he licks his lips behind you—a loud, lascivious smack, a wet suckle—and feel the burn of his stare riveted on the split of your flesh. This bare seam Simon swears he found nirvana tucked deep inside of. A buried ravine. Aquifer he quenches himself on.

A pilgrimage Johnny has been aching to take.

And that's what this is, isn't it? Yatra to the hidden piscina. A procession to pollute the tarn—something Simon can't bring himself to do.

Bad genes. Trauma—sticky, noxious tar that oozes from the rotting filaments; festering deep inside. Cancerous: a mass you long to cleave from bone but know it's not cosmetic. Not just the ball joints, or the studs, but the foundation itself. If you start tearing up pieces now you'll have nothing but an empty plot and a pile of damaged debris.

So:

Enter the third man.

A tool. Vassel. Pays fealty by fucking a baby into your womb.

It's what you wanted, isn't it?

(yes, but—)

It happens faster than you can keep up with. Hands on your hips. Coarse hair tickling the back of your thigh. Warm breath against sticky, wet flesh. A broad nose parting your folds. Inhale. Exhale on a deep, reedy groan.

"fuck, ye smell heavenly, doe."

Simon hums before you can peel your tongue from the roof of your mouth, answering for you with a brassy invitation: tastes even better, Johnny.

It's all the permission he needs before he pushes his head closer to your bare cunt, groaning as his tongue cleaves a silky, thick line between your folds. Gorging himself without much preamble. Hands curled around your hips like expensive silverware, pulling you back into the wanting, eager suck of his mouth.

All at once, it's too much. Your hips shift, squirming away from his tongue, the too-sharp press of his teeth against soft, sensitive flesh. Mewling, whimpering into the rain-wet fabric of Simon's jeans.

His hand falls on your head. A gentle tap. Behave, it says, but you can't.

Johnny tramples over that thin line between pleasure and ecstasy, blurring them both until it becomes pain. Overwhelming. Shoving you towards the edge before you've readied yourself for the fall.

"Can't, Simon, can't—"

The words elide, slurring into a high-pitched whine as Johnny feasts on your cunt. Devours you from the inside out—all teeth and tongue, sucking your clit until your thighs cramp from how tight your muscles tense, bleeding lactic acid over sore flesh. The scrape of his stubble over your folds, chafing them until they are raw. Swollen. Drenched hole fucked with the spear of his tongue, digging so deep you begin to fear that he's trying to crawl inside of you. Salt your womb with his own two hands—

"Can take it, birdie," is all Simon says before his hand slides down your arched, trembling spine. Fingers digging into the meat of your cheek, spreading you wider for Johnny to eat. "Look how eager he is. Can't get enough of that sweet cunt."

"It's—it's too much—"

You don't feel him move. Can't see much from the blurry tears in your eyes. But his other hand whips out, cracking over your untouched cheek in a firm, burning smack. One that makes Johnny moan when it lands. Cruel. Open palm. Hard enough to leave a welt in the shape of his hand—something that makes him groan when he sees it.

"fuckin' hell—" his fingers dig into the aching flesh, grip bruising.

Johnny peels his wet, open mouth away long enough to pant into the slick spread of your cunt, resting his cheek on the swell of your ass. "Bit rough wit' 'er, Lt."

Simon considers it. Body shaking the bed when he shrugs, leaning back to trail his hand back up your spine, curling over the arch of your nape. Keeping you still as you sob into his knee. "She likes it."

"know she does. Fuck, Lt. Can feel 'er little pussy twitching. Tryin' tae suck me in."

Another hum. The grip on your asscheek eases as his hand peels away, sliding over swell before notching a finger between your cleft. Dry. Rough. It drags down your seam until it brushes over your fluttering hole, calloused tip digging in.

"soft, too, ain't it?" He asks, words mockingly cruel in their conversational tone. Nonchalant. But Johnny's hands tighten on your waist, palms slick with sweat. Glueing to your flesh. You can tell he likes that. Likes the way Simon talks about you. Demeaning and brutish. Butcher selling a piece of meat. "Bit of a tight fit at first—" he curls his finger inside of you, stretching your sore walls with the width of his knuckle. Sinking in deep. Another follows before you can remember how to breathe around the sting. "But swallows you up like a goddamn dream, Johnny."

His breaths grow ragged. "Fuck, Lt. Look at th'."

It makes you clench up around Simon's fingers, embarrassment scorching through your chest. "Please—"

Neither of them acknowledge you. Simon's fingers split, spreading wide apart as Johnny shuffles forward for a closer look, and nearly choking on his next inhale when he does.

"such a pretty fuckin' pussy—" he says it like a curse. Spitting the words out on a snarl. Angry, now, for reasons you can't discern slobbering over Simon's leg. "God, Lt. ah cannae—"

Johnny shifts back. You hear the clink of a belt. The rip of a zipper. Choked groans barely swallowed down as Simon buries his fingers inside of your weeping cunt over and over again, blunt tips cruelly skating over a spot inside, just behind your navel, that makes you feel liquid and loose between your hips. Debris floating down a whiteriver.

Pleasure peaks with each brutal thrust until you're howling into his leg, unable to move with their hands on your body, holding you down. Making you take it. Making you come undone as Johnny watches.

"fuck, fuck, Lt—she's gonna cum, ain't she?"

"Wanna feel it, Johnny?"

Simon's name falls out of his mouth on a whispered prayer. Drenched in thick reverence. Arched in need.

"aye, sir—" there's something about the hush of his voice, the way it slurs into putty. Enshrining his need in a halo of gold. It sends shivers down your spine. Heats you up fast like a fever. Sends you screaming over the edge—

"gonna miss it, Johnny. She's squeezin' me so fuckin' tight—"

Whatever else they say is swallowed by the keen clawing at the hollow of your throat when you feel the blunt, fat press of his cock knocking against your swollen, stuffed rim.

It's a burning thing—a sharp, heavy ache. Knock, knock. Simon spreads his fingers again, forcing you open. Pulling your hole wide apart for Johnny's engorged head to push up against.

It feels like being split down the middle. Ripped apart. Simon's fingers flex around your nape, thumb brushing soothingly against the knob of your spine.

Can take it, he mutters, brassy and low. A rumble just for you. Gotta take it, birdie.

You forget why. Why you need Johnny's too big, too fat cock inside of your cunt until the head bullies through, scissoring Simon's fingers apart until they're pressed tight on either side of the flared glands. Squeezed between your taut rim and Johnny's cock.

Johnny makes a noise like you've gutted him. A gutwrenching sob. "Oh, shite, Lt. M'—m'nae gonnae last—"

"gonna cum inside 'er, Johnny? Knock my pretty birdie up?"

Right. Right. A baby.

There's a heavy push. Your flesh wrenched apart to fit the fat, throbbing length of his cock—

(the cock that's gonna knock you up—)

Simon's fingers slip out of you as Johnny bucks forward, burying himself deep inside with a long, throaty groan. It's a horrible sensation—a bellyache. Without the splint of Simon's fingers forcing you open wide to near numbness, you're forced to feel the thick girth of his cock. Rim fluttering, spasming over the flared base. Too much, and somehow, not enough.

You sob through it. Each one ripples through your chest until it feels like it will collapse. Every inch of your body burns, throbbing. You don't think you'll survive this ache—

Johnny sets a brutal pace. Likes pistoning into you in quick succession until you're nearly howling into Simon's thigh before slowing to a crawl. Force-feeding you every inch. Making you feel every single one. Long strokes that batter the plug of your womb, bullying against the aching seal of your cervix until the flashes of pain, the savagery of this pleasure, makes you feel sick.

Getting fucked by Johnny like this is both a punishment and a reward. Baptism in hellfire.

Be careful what you wish for—

"gonnae fuck ye 'til it takes, doe. Knock ye up. Want th', don't ye? Aye. Can feel it. Feel this little cunt beggin' fer ma cum. Dinnae worry. Ahm gonnae give it tae ye. A' o' it, doe. Every—fuckin'—drop—"

Each awful word lands like acid on your spine. Chewing through flesh, tissue, until it melts bone below. Liquified. Helpless.

And with Johnny's hands on your hips, anchoring you in place as he hammers into your sore, abused pussy, possessed with the need to carve a space inside of your flesh where only he fits, rots, and Simon's hand on the scruff of your neck, holding you down, there's nowhere to run. Nowhere to escape the ragged breaths that spill from Johnny's slick mouth, the desperate way he pumps into you—thrusts growing sloppy as he stretches towards the precipice they dangle you off of, kicking and screaming as the scent of iron fills your nose, as his flared cockhead scrapes over that place you thought only Simon would ever know. Bluntly battering into the altar that sits, nestled behind your navel, like he's allowed.

Holy offering in a handful of seeds he'll sow over fecund land until something grows.

"Look at you take it," Simon coos, sticky, damp fingers petting over your tear-stained cheeks. It smells of loam. Salt. Iron and ozone. "So pretty when you're gettin' bred, ain't you, birdie?"

It rips a mournful keen from your chest, a feverish moan following on its heels when the lewd squelch, the echoing slapslapslap of Johnny driving into your cunt fills your ears. So wet, so messy, you can feel the slick drying, tacky and thick, on the inner crease of your bent knee.

"He's gonna put our baby in you, ain't he, birdie? Like a good mutt—"

The hands holding you over the precipice let go. Johnny's answering moan spears into your head, fluttering around the pulsing heartbeat of liquid bliss frothing in the pit of your belly. Overflowing over the rim.

Too much, you think, but that's not quite right because you can't feel anything at all except the length of his thick cock lodged deep inside you. Throbbing in tandem with your second pulse.

"gonnae cum, Lt. Gonnae—oh, fuck, Lt—"

His voice is a warm river washing over your spine. Pooling ecstacy. Something heavenly. Divine—

Molten gold blooms in the pit of your belly. Cockhead spitting against the seal of your womb as he cums, filling you to the brim. Fucking it into you even as his cock softens, unable to pull out he says.

Feels like fuckin' heaven, Lt.

"ain't she just?" Simon volleys back, sounding oddly dissonant. Off-key. "Pretty little birdie got what she wanted, huh?"

The drawl of his tone—acid-scorched, electric—forces you to blink through the tears, lifting your aching, wet eyes upwards at him. Searching.

He has the eyes of a predator. Leonine. The gaze of a beast after it's devoured something whole. His touch is as gentle as he can be—a rough, cracked scratch over your blistered cheeks—and when he meets your divining stare, he coos.

"Maybe I'll 'ave a go next time."

In the pounding, soporific slurry of your mind, you can't wrap your head around the words. Can't make sense of them. Struggling to keep your burning eyes open, even.

Not that it matters.

Johnny huffs a scorching breath of laughter over your sweat-slicked spine before wedging his forearm under your belly. Keeping your hips tipped up as he falls into you, resting his broad chest against your back and smothering you into the damp mattress.

"Yer cruel, Lt," he rasps, chin nuzzling over the arch of your shoulder, cock giving a feeble twitch inside of you at something you can't seem to piece together.

"m'jus' givin' my pretty bird exactly what she asked for." Huh? He prods, fingers tapping over your cheek when your swollen eyes slide shut. "Forgettin' y'manners, ain't you? Say thank you, pet."

With Johnny's half-formed chuckle echoing in your head, you mumble the words out on an exhausted sigh.

"an' say thank you to this mutt f'knockin' you up."

It comes out slower this time. Sluggish. His cock gives another twitch as he buries his face between your shoulder blades, smothering a groan.

"Sweetest thing, Lt. Christ—"

"more where that came from, Johnny. Jus' you wait an' see." Another tap. You mewl in response, feeling war-torn and achy. Unable to open your eyes for a second time, all you can do is whimper, burying yourself into his thigh. Pleading, silently, for clemency. Later, you think. Later—

But Simon has other plans.

"Fallin' asleep on me, birdie? Ain't even gonna give me a chance to put my baby in you? Greedy little thing, ain't she?"

Buried under the weight of Johnny as he peppers sucking, open mouth kisses over the width of your shoulder, cum leaking out around the softening plug of his cock, all you can do is snuff out the sob on the arch of his knee, resisting the urge to bite instead.

"Maybe next time then, eh, birdie?" Since you've been so good for this mutt, huh? Maybe I'll give you a reward.

Just be careful what you wish for, huh, birdie.

[astosangels]

i want a dog bed that’s big enough to sleep in because god can you imagine how nice it’d be? laying in your little bed that’s meant for pups like you, then your owner coming over and fucking you dumb in your own bed, making you really feel like a mutt. just being in the bed itself making you fall deeper into that headspace, only being able to whine and bark and whimper as you get ruthlessly fucked. even better if you get to fall asleep in the bed afterwards, dozing off while surrounded by reminders of what a good pup you just were for your owner… ugh

[spit-mutt]

i could be squirming and whimpering under someone rn, it's unfair

[ruffjorkin]

I just want someone to tease my boycunt so badly. Stroke your cock, strap, or fingers up and down my slit, feeling how wet I am just from making out with you. You can tell just how badly I want it from how desperately I was grinding down on your thigh. I'm just a pathetic little mutt. I whimper and whine as you rub my tdick, it gets swollen and hard to the point you can feel my heartbeat in it. I want you so bad I need you to breed me. I need you to stroke my cock and breed me like the slutty mutt I am. I want you to shove into me and make me take it deeper and deeper till I'm howling your name. Wrap your hands around my throat and tell me I'm such a good boy for taking it all. Finish inside me and don't stop until you've had your fill.

[pup-rott]

dreaming of being on my knees for a dom after a long day, naked and collared with a ball gag in my mouth and a tail plug in my ass. i’m there for my dom’s entertainment, of course; i sit so perfectly still despite my desire for any kind of stimulation. i don’t clench my asshole around that huge plug, i don’t reach down and jerk my tdick the way i so desperately want to— i sit pretty, legs spread, boycunt dripping on the hardwood floor beneath me, my hands splayed on my thighs.

i wait until my dom has had enough of looking at my pretty little display. i wait until they walk closer, until they stuff their leather boot under my soaking cunt and give me my release signal. i wait hntil i’m allowed to hump their boot like a dog, a mutt, spreading my slick all over the fine leather. i whine and pant and whimper behind the gag in my mouth, and my dom stares at me like the good piece of fuckmeat i am.

when i finally cum on their boot, they drag me by the hair to the couch and bend me over, spreading my drippy little cunt. they pull on my tail plug just to see my asshole clench and my pussy flutter, before slapping my wet folds hard enough to make me cry. i hesr them unzip their pants, feel them draw close, and i have no warning when they thrust their bitchbreaker inside of me in one swift motion.

after all, i’m just a set of puppyholes, right?

[kaionyx]

I can’t stop thinking of having a sub at my disposal for practicing the different knots and ties with some rope all while acting as if they’re purely just a pretty toy for me to play with.

Coaxing them through the first bit with soft words and praises like, “You’re so pretty wrapped like this, such an obedient mutt for daddy aren’t you?” and “That’s a good puppy, open your mouth for me yeah? Just like that darling..” to get their mind fuzzy and pliable enough to not notice my hands starting to slip a gag in their mouth or a vibe in their cunt once I have them bound just enough to be immobile. Seeing them squirm and look up to me with those precious doe eyes when I start to pull against the rope tighter and manhandle them into different positions without a word, the sweet little muffled begs and whimpers that try to escape from behind the gag when I angle them a certain way to feel the vibe press against the spot that makes their mind switch off. Keeping this up for hours while I take my time to try out the new ties I seen, pausing in between them to coo and whisper faux sympathy over their whimpers and choked out cries from feeling their mind forcibly melt out their poor oversensitive cunt.

Ending it by putting them in my favorite tie and forcing them to take my cock until I have my fill and finally take them down to praise and kiss them to sleep, just to see them wake up the next day asking for it all over again? God, i’ll go fucking crazy if I don’t get this anytime soon.

[werecreature-addicted]

trans werewolf girl going into heat for the first time. Poor sweetheart whimpering and pawing at herself needing someone to come and breed her puppy cunt. Big bad wolf reduced to a keening mutt, spreading her legs and humping anything she can get her hands on to try and dull the ache. pillows, chairs, smaller wolf girls, nothing is safe until she finally gets pinned down and fucked until she passes out.