#naked mannequins

[fieriframes]

[And his cold trousers were twisted and the sirens high and shrill. And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill. And the naked mannequins with their cheshire grins. And the raconteurs and roustabouts said Buddy, come on in. 'Cause, 'cause the dreams ain't broken down here now. They're walking with a limp.]

[butchwaifu]

My greatest achievement thus far since the.pilot came out is compiling THIS MUCH fucking art

[aria0fgold]

I really just up and searched "naked ken doll" out of frustration cuz I couldn't get the proportions right to draft my dress when I should've just... searched up mannequin stands.

[mystery-of-arkham-asylum]

When walking down the emergency exit stairs at a clothing shop and suddenly you are transported into a horror game.

[xikesisxikeb]

like a good 80% of moving as a maximalist is the day when you take all your shit down from your walls and ceiling and you think "damn I had a lot of shit on my walls and ceiling"

[devotioncrater]

did you know that it’s easy when you’re big in japan? things are easy when you’re big in japan

[nakeddeparture]

Butlers Avenue, Water Street, Christ Church, Barbados. Shawn Carlisle Harewood, 38-year-old taxi driver, ARRESTED for the Winston Scott Polyclinic incident.

https://youtu.be/ifovOHGnmAk

A Bajan trait known as ‘The Mannequin Effect’ is seen here in this collage. Have you ever asked yourselves why you freeze during conflict? Naked!!

Like. Share. Subscribe. Comment on YouTube.

[idiotshriek]

ugh saw a post so stupid i had to close instagram but i wish id screenshotted beforehand fuck.

[gingersxng]

Like What You See?

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Genre: smut 18+

Notes: roommates, reader is a tease, bigdick!mingi, mentions of porn, jerking off, Mingi has nasty thoughts about the reader, stripping, fingering, pussy play, breast play, voyeurism, cursing, Mingi cums in his pants, mentions of sex toys. May have forgotten something!

a/n: saw this Ateez log and immediately thought of this scenario when I saw Mingis facial expressions🙂‍↕️ am I sorry tho? ofc not!

Words: 866

Imagine..

During the last few weeks maybe months, you’d been repeatedly walking in on your roommate Mingi sitting against the headboard on his bed with his massive cock in his fist, the erotic and pornographic sounds from the laptop giving you straight hints of what he was watching.

What you didn’t know was that he didn’t jerk off by the screen in front of him, sure it was part of the point but the biggest reason he did it was because of you. He imagined that it was your small hand who milked him dry, as if it was your pretty mouth that was wrapped around his dick sucking up every last drop of his thick cum.

It was hard for you to sleep at night since your rooms were just a thin wall apart, Mingis low and deep moans tore through the wall and into your red ears. The vibrations from his voice went straight to your pussy and you crossed your legs in discomfort as you looked up at the ceiling. All you wanted was to be the one who made him sound so devilish..

Mingi sat down on the couch in your shared living room watching something boring. You’d been in your room the whole afternoon trying to find a way to act around Mingi after all this live porn. He didn’t think much about it that you’d seen him half naked, he’s a man after all.

The thing was, you had seen his dick maybe it was time for him to see your pussy. The wicked thought of Mingi watching your naked body gave your belly the tingles.

You took a deep breath before finally stepping out of your room, Mingis eyes were still glued to the tv screen and you slowly approach the armchair beside the couch.

“You’re finally out of your room, congratulations y/n” he said sarcastically, still watching the tv. “oh thank you Mingi..��� you said seductively as you sneaked down in the soft chair. “What have you been up…” Mingi finally turned his head away from the tv and were met by a sight he never thought he would ever witness in his whole life even if he dreamed about it almost every night. “To..?” He gulped hard and his eyes got big as UFO’s.

You half laid down in the armchair with your legs spread wide, one leg over the armrest and your fingers deep inside your pussy. You were only wearing a white crop top with nothing underneath, your hard nipples almost poked holes through the thin material.

“Like what you see?” You softly asked watching him sit in front of you like a mannequin, not moving a muscle. Even though he couldn’t speak, his body spoke for him instead. A big tent formed quickly in his sweats and you swore you could almost see his cock twitch underneath.

Mingi gave you a nod and bit down on his lower lip trying his best not to nut inside his boxers too fast. You slowly rubbed your clit and bucked your hips up while letting out soft moans never breaking eye contact, you slid your index finger through your folds and gathered up some of your juices that made a slimy string as you took your finger out. “Fuck..” he whispered under his breath as all he wanted to do was to bend you over this couch and fuck your brains out.

While playing with yourself you could see how he fought more and more not to completely loose it, his leg bounced up and down fast and his one hand rested on his thigh, he gripped it so hard he almost let out a whine.

“You’re torturing me, why?” Mingi groaned, his eyes never leaving your wet pussy. “You’ve been torturing me all those nights jerking off to all those porn videos, so I thought I’d do the same thing to you” you said with a wink. Mingi let out a deep moan and swallowed thickly, “I never wanted to torture you..” he whispered.

“You wanna play with these?” You teased as you took off your top revealing your bare tits, you kneaded them together and bit your lip. Mingi uncomfortably pushed his hand down on his dick wanting release, wanting you to ride him..

“Oh fuck yes” he growled as he palmed himself through his sweats. “I’m sorry but you can’t, I’m actually beginning to feel a bit tired from all this playing” you slowly stretched your arms above your head and let out a fake yawn. “Think I have to finish this in the bedroom.. should I use the vibrator or the big dildo..?” You talked to yourself as you got up from the chair. Mingi let out a painful groan as he came in his boxers, you knew he did but continued to play your game.

You bent down to his eye level and put your finger under his chin to tilt his head up, his eyes were filled with nothing more than lust, his pupils were dilated to the max. “If you’re up for it we could watch porn together some night..” you whispered before letting go, leaving him horny and confused.

[blossomarlia]

dressing up

When you're unsure how you feel in the dress the boys bought you, they make sure to re-inspire some confidence. (reupload from previous blog, see navigation for more info!)

poly!jegulus x fem! reader

warnings: mostly fluff, sexual references and implied smut at the end, reader has hair and is able-bodied.

You rub the liquid-soft silk of your dress absent-mindedly between two fingers, eyes locked on your reflection in the bathroom mirror. When you'd tried it on just a few days ago, the shop lady had told you you were a vision; now you're sure she was just trying to sell her product.

You want to blame the sizing- maybe it's too small, the wrong shape, impossible to look good in even if you had the body of a mannequin. But even that doesn't seem plausible. It's a beautiful dress, high-quality with a price to match. There's no alternative: you must be the problem, straining fabric with the parts of you that you wish you could just forget about.

You breathe out as much as you can, trying not to flush with the embarrassment you feel at the thought of having to show your boyfriends just what a mistake it was, encouraging you to spend their money on a pretty dress you can't possibly wear. It was wrong of you to accept the gift. Guilt boils hot and hurting in your stomach as you imagine your lovely boyfriends, so pleased to finally have convinced you to let them sponsor such a luxury. How awful to repay them by looking dowdy and silly and not at all right for something so beautiful.

You think quickly, aware of the expectant pair sitting just seconds away in the living room. You can't pass them without revealing yourself, but the prospect is unimaginable. What a waste of money.

“Baby?” James’ voice, soft and cheerful, sounds from just past the door. Your throat tightens. “Not that we’re too miffed, but we would like to see you at some point. You’ve been in there since we got back from the shops twenty minutes ago.”

Shit. You curse yourself for deciding to come in here for a full-body view of the dress, leaving all your other clothing in the bedroom. Exiting naked would usually warrant rather a happy reaction from the boys, but after looking a few moments more at the outline of your body in the mirror, that doesn't seem like a good option either. “Sorry!”

"Not to worry, sweetheart."

James’ white bathrobe is the only reasonable alternative. You grab it off the hook by the towels and wrap it around yourself, nodding contentedly as it reveals only a sliver of fabric at your chest and nothing more. You might as well be wearing a nightie, for all they know. The dress will just have to be returned, and you'll tell them you couldn't find one that fit- technically correct.

You aim to leave the bathroom casually, but that becomes almost impossible when you open the door and find yourself face-to-face with Regulus, his fist raised as if to knock.

“Hi, Reg!” Too cheery. You tamper down your smile and stand on your tip-toes to kiss him, holding the robe tightly around yourself.

“Hello. I was just going to ask what you wanted for dinner. Are you alright, darling?" He wonders, watching you with storm-grey eyes that always seem to see just a little more than you're expecting them to.

"Of course! Dandy." You supply.

He cocks his head, unmoving. "You’re in an odd mood.”

“What? No. This is my usual mood,” You insist.

“M-hm.” His eyes drop momentarily down to the robe, narrowing. “Any particular reason you're wearing James' robe?” 

“Am I?”

The aforementioned individual appeared, suddenly, grinning. “I don’t mind. Looks great, very sexy!”

You wonder if it's possible for your face to heat so much that it melts.

“Incorrigible, James.” Regulus says softly.

You give him a weak smile, squirming away from the impossible weight of their combined gazes and heading for the bedroom. Regrettably, they follow you.

“Why are you wearing it, angel?” James asks, flopping onto the bed. 

You shrug, searching for an opportunity to get them both to leave you alone to change. The truth is that your own robe would've been much too short, and if they see the bottom of the dress they'll probably ask for the whole thing, and that's just not going to happen. You press your fingers into the soft curve of your lower stomach nervously, taking a few steps backwards until your back hits the wall. James' brows pull together. 

“Um. I don't know.”

The two of them exchange a glance. You understand; you're not exactly behaving in a normal manner.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Regulus asks. You like to think you're better at reading his expressions than most- the slight slant of his dark brows tells you he's concerned, but you can't get a good read on the rest of it.

"Yes, I'm fine! Why are you- I- I'm just a little warm."

"Call me crazy, angel," James says, amused, "But taking off the robe might help with that."

Your reply comes too quickly, to your immediate regret. "No!"

There's a brief silence. You feel like a total idiot, but you're sure it beats the feeling you'd get seeing them pretend to like the way you look right now. You squeeze your eyes shut for second, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry," You sound mortifyingly close to tears. "Sorry. I just- sorry."

At a total loss, James stares at you from the bed. Regulus touches your upper arm gently.

"There's no need to apologise, darling, just tell us what's happened. What's made you so upset?"

You force yourself to make eye contact. "Please can you both just go while I get changed?"

Their expressions are awful; knowing you're causing such a fuss over something so trivial, so stupid, you feel like just about the worst girlfriend in the world.

“Is there something you're worried we'll see? Bruises, or something?” James asks. "We can go, baby, but if there's something going on it might be better for Reg or me to take a look. You know I was joking when I said I'd break up with you if you got that tattoo of Margaret Thatcher's face."

You deflate, softened by his attempt to break the tension. Regulus rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth twitch. "What's going on, hm?" He asks quietly.

With a sigh, you stare at the ground, giving up. They're too lovely to stick to your original plan- you'll just have to let it happen, and hope to make up for it another time by looking better.

"...I'm not sure you'll love what you see."

“Of course we’ll love it. We love you.” Regulus says firmly, like it's obvious.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Angel. Take the robe off, yeah? We’ll prove it to you.” 

At James' insistence, you take a deep breath and stare at the ground as you shrug off the robe, wrapping your arms around your middle. You're keenly aware of the places where your skin presses against fabric, the way it falls, and the heat rushing to your cheeks. Oh, god.

"Fuck." Regulus says, uncharacteristically crude. You curl in on yourself a little further.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not how it looked on the-”

James interrupts you. “Baby? I’m gonna be honest, because I love you, okay?”

“Okay.” You say meekly, eyes stinging. Maybe it's even worse than you’d thought.

“I cannot hear a single word you are saying when you look that good. Like, a single word. It’s all lost on me. I’m going to need a minute.” 

Regulus’ hands are on you before you could properly react to James’ words, drawing your arms away from your body and taking in the dress with hungry eyes. 

“Exquisite, sweetheart," He exclaims, hands on yours. "I would say you’re never taking this off, but that’s actually all I want to do.”

"What?" You manage, smiling despite yourself. You pull your hands away and press them to your face. "Reg, you don't have to-"

“You thought we wouldn’t want to see this?” Hands on your shoulders, Regulus spins you once, before pulling your back against his chest and planting a heated kiss to the side of your neck. “And you called me crazy?”

“You’re- I’m- what?” You stammer. James makes an unintelligible sound from the bed, pressing a dramatic hand to his heart. "Thank you."

"Don't thank us, angel. Holy shit. I'm thanking you. I'm thanking the gods. I'm thanking-"

"James is very thankful." Regulus whispers into your hair. You laugh out loud, a little giddy at all their praise. "D'you know what I'd be thankful for right now?"

"What?"

"You on that bed, darling," He says. You lean into his touch as his hand slides down your side, squeezing a part of your waist you'd prodded critically in the mirror not ten minutes ago. Now you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands through the thin fabric, enjoy having a shape his hands both appreciate so well. "Off you go."

It's an instruction, now, and you shiver at the authority in his tone as you obey. James is on you before the duvet has even settled, making you gasp as he presses kisses all over your face.

“I’m going to destroy this dress. I’m sorry.” He says earnestly. You giggle happily, insecurities not quite gone but coated in a honey-sweet joy that softens their presence.

“I thought you liked it.”

“M-hm. It’s okay,” His hand finds your thigh and grips it firmly, fingers pressing into soft skin. “We’ll buy you a million more.” 

You let yourself enjoy it all for a moment more before giving any space to the snarky voice at the back of your mind, more out of a desire for reassurance than genuine belief that the two boys on top of you would genuinely do such a thing. "You're not- not just saying all this to make me feel better?"

“Why would we ‘just say’ this?” Regulus murmurs against your right shoulder, forearm across your stomach as he does wicked things to your skin that you'll have to cover in concealer if you want to wear anything sleeveless for a few days.

“...I don't know. Make me feel better?”

“You’re stunning. Literally- how often is James speechless, hm?” 

You laughed. “Hardly ever.” 

“Exactly. You're quite regularly the most beautiful girl either of us have ever seen, darling, whether you're feeling the same way or not,” Regulus leans on his elbow to look at you sternly. "We don't appreciate you this way because you look like somebody else, we adore you because you're yourself, and completely radiant."

“I don’t think you don't like me, I promise. It’s just something that’s in my brain- that I’m ugly, or something. It's silly."”

"It is," James agrees, allowing Regulus to return to whatever he's doing to your collarbone. "But it's not your fault. Your only job is to listen to what we're telling you, instead of your insecurity. Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nod, a little breathless. It's very easy to be agreeable when they're doing all these things to you. James kisses a line down your throat, to your chest, to your arm, slipping the strap of the dress down to follow. “I love you both," You manage.

They answer in their own, doubly enjoyable, ways.

[viridwns]

Mannequin

TW: Forced relationship, non-consensual kissing/touching, Douma being aight?, mention of gore if you squint, also didn't check grammar or spelling :/

A/N: I am working on so many requests rn, I had to work on one of my own ideas (I saw a dress on pinterest and had to make a story out of it).

"You look like a goddess."

"So beautiful."

"She's ethereal."

"Only the best for Lord Douma."

"This shows too much skin!"

You look at yourself in the mirror, turning your body every whichway to assess the dress (or rather a piece of cloth) that has been put on you.

You felt naked.

Douma kidnapping you to his cult wasn't something new. Especially after he was sent out on a mission did he just long for alone time with you. His followers taking you, dressing you, doing your hair wasn't new to you either.

But being put in this?!

Yeah, this was something new.

They never put you in a dress so revealing.

It was a strapless dress, with sleeves flowing over your lower arm, attached with a silver chain to the main part. Your top was made out of the same silver. It barely covered your breasts. You hoped the thin closing around your neck wouldn't break. The silver was further attached to the bottom of your dress. A waistband sitting snug on your hips, a sheer cloth billowing from it, and stopping just above your ankles. Aside from your lower arms and from the waist down, you were without coverage. Your only shield that protected the outing of your breasts to the rest of the world was the flimsy silver chain wrapping around your upper half.

No way you were going to wear this in front of the demon who ripped apart countless of kimono's off you. He couldn't even see your figure in those. You don't want to find out what he'd do when you were practically bare.

You let your fingers trace the silver; these chains wouldn't even survive a slight tug from him.

"Our seamstress worked tirelessly on this. Researching the western culture without Lord Douma's knowledge was a difficult task. Plus the seamstress had to start over many times; the fabric is so flimsy it ripped multiple times!" A woman looked at you via the mirror with begging eyes. You felt a pang of guilt shoot through your gut at her words.

"It's not that I don't like it! it's the most beautiful piece of clothing I ever laid my eyes on. It's just that...It's so immodest!"

You turn your head away from the mirror, getting embarrassed from seeing your form in such a state in front of all these women.

Counter arguments started to bounce off the walls. You shook your head.

"I'm not going to prance around in nothing but see through fabric and chains!"

"You must! you're Lord Douma's spouse, send by God himself to keep him company-"

You waved your hands in an attempt to cut her off. You didn't need them to obsess over the made up story Douma fed them. You were not God send, and you were definitely not here to keep the demon company.

You wished you could tell them the truth, but that would only result in carnage; The pile of corpses Douma left for you to find serving as a efficient warning the first time he brought you here.

You were never going to tattle on his secret again.

The arguing continued, a hand already pressed on you shoulder so you would sit down.

"Just let me do your hair first okay? If you really don't like it we'll dress you in different clothing.

You reluctantly gave in. Knowing that their say was final anyway. You can't even remember the last time your opinion was taken into serious account.

It's always about pleasing the demons', never about what you would like.

You watched the skillfull hand of the woman behind you doing your hair in the dressing table mirror. She was braiding it into a crown around your head, letting the back stay the way it is. She intertwined some white roses into the braid; it looked like you were wearing a flower crown.

Even though you did find yourself pretty in these fancy clothes and hairstyles; you couldn't enjoy yourself. You were treated like a dress up doll for the demons', only being allowed to look pretty for them, never for yourself.

You had forgotten the giddy emotion you got when being gifted a new dress and twirling in it in front of the mirror for the first time.

Another sigh, another careless smile from one of the followers.

"You couldn't look more beautiful. Lord Douma will ravish in the sight of you." The women all agreed in unison, complimenting you on your beauty.

You turned around to face them, a small smile on your lips.

"I will make sure to praise your work in front of Douma." A wave of excited and thankful shrieks came over you.

Douma tended to let the women you like live longer so you can enjoy their company more when you're here. You had to mention them in front of him.

A male follower came rushing into the room. The women all forming a protective circle around you-you were only to be seen by Douma's eyes.

"It's almost sunset, come quick." He rambled, waving to everyone to come with him. Urgency laced his words.

It was time for Douma to give the message of the Lord to his people.

Prick.

You stood up, relief slowly eating away the nerves that had build up in your stomach.

Sunset also meant that Akaza could go outside and get you out of here.

One thing about Douma is that he never asked if he can take you with him, he just does.

And hell be upon him when the rest finds out you're missing, coincidentally at the same time Douma isn't present either.

Akaza is always the one to get you, even if he can't stand up against Douma, he somehow always gets Douma to give you over.

Maybe it's because of the threatening shadow of Kokushibo always leaning over Akaza from behind; piercing his three pair of eyes into Douma's soul (if he even had one, you were fairly certain he didn't).

You feel the corners of your lips tug upwards at the sight of Douma being beheaded.

Maybe if you puppy-dog-eye Muzan enough when you get back he'll take away Douma's mouth for a bit. You could use a bit of peace and quiet.

You didn't notice you were being lead to the main hall, so lost in your daydreams that you only noticed where you were when a heavy silence deafened your ears.

The hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at you, gaping at you, had you realize what you were wearing, or what you weren't wearing. Your arms slipped over your figure in an attempt to keep as much hidden as you could. Your futile attempt in creating a shield for yourself was met with two female followers grabbing both your hands and forcing them to your side, keeping you in place with their determination to show you to their Lord.

Your eyes were pinned forward, gaze focused on the tall figure slowly rising upright from his cushion.

Douma looked the same as he ever did. Same hair, same clothes, same cursed eyes and his trusty hat.

The only thing different was that his expression was...well not his usual 'grin'.

His eyes were wide, mouth closed. He was unreadable. You couldn't figure out what emotion he was wearing on his features.

You noticed his hands were in taut fists by his sides.

What was up with him?

"Douma?—"

That's when he stood up, rising to his full height. You swear you could feel the floor shake as he strode towards you.

You didn't—couldn't—move. Why was he so much more terrifying when not smiling?

The women let you go; getting on their knees as their Lord approached—heads touching the floor.

He didn't acknowledge any of them as he took your wrist in his hand. You saw his sharpened nails. bile climbed up your throat, you forced it down again as you swallowed.

Douma dragged you behind him, pace quick, eyes determined. You spluttered his name, trying to ask what was wrong. He was not himself, he never acted this way.

"Douma, what are you do-"

"Just shut up."

You were taken aback by his tone, shutting up immediately. He never had any emotion except for faux happiness in his voice. Now his tone was just empty, devoid of anything.

You could hear his heavy breathing as he took you outside. You spotted the white circle gifting the world with a guiding light in the darkness high up in the sky. It was a full-moon tonight.

Your eyes snapped to Douma as he stilled his movements. He shoved you in front of him, placing you in the holy glow of the moon. You faced him with confusion lining your features. You could not figure out what he was trying to do.

He took a few steps back; basking in the sight of you. He swallowed thickly. His eyes trailing slowly over you body, analyzing every dip, mole, crook, wrinkle, imperfection and perfection you had.

You looked like an angel in the heavenly glow of the nightlight. Douma couldn't stop inspecting you. When you walked into the hall, not wearing a kimono like always, he was put into a trance. He had never seen you wearing western clothing, and even though this was extreme and probably not accurate to the western style at all-he was captivated.

You had never looked more beautiful than you did at this moment. He wasn't used to emotions sizzling in his blood. He didn't know how to put the burning sensation in him out. For once he didn't want to throw you on a bed to eat you up to your very core, but he just wanted to take in you.

You played with the ends of your sleeves as you felt yourself getting smaller under Douma's multicolored gaze. You hated not knowing what to do, not being able to gauge the demon's feelings.

A snap of twigs made your head turn away from the stone-turning stare of Douma.

You sighed in relief.

"You bastard. You can't just take her with you! Not without Lord Muzan's permission! Love, you must've been te-."

Akaza stilled, his eyes met yours and slowly drifted over your body. You cocked your head.

Not him too.

"What are you wearing? What is she wearing?" He pointed an accusing finger to Douma,

"Doesn't matter, she is gorgeous."

You had to keep yourself upright form the whiplash Douma gave you with his words. He had never sounded to sincere, so soft.

Akaza walked over to you, his footfalls not heard. He was about to hold your hand when Douma spawned next to the two of you and gripped Akaza's hand in a bone-breaking grip. His muscles were bulging under his skin as he kept Akaza from touching you.

"Let her stay like this for a little." Douma never was serious with Akaza. Always letting the upper three do what he wanted. Akaza stopped all his actions. He knew Douma could kill him in seconds if he resisted him now.

"Douma I want to go. I don't feel comfortable." It was nerve-wrecking to break the tension. It was something you never dared to do, scared of loosing a limb if you did. The air was thick and if you had a knife you swore you could cut it.

Douma turned his focus towards you. Just like that you could breathe again, all tension leaving. It was like Douma realized that he had dropped his act.

You grimaced when his grin returned on his lips. You saw Akaza visibly relax when he did.

"Whatever you wish princess."

You looked at him with suspicion. He was never this easy to persuade. Usually he would whine for an hour before inevitably giving in.

Akaza shared a glance of doubt with you. He cautiously took your hand and within the blink of your eyes you were standing in the chaos of walls, lights, floors and stairs.

You felt light-headed, your stomach sloshing inside of you. This was never going to get easier.

You held Akaza's hand as you got your bearings, slowly pushing away the nausea and pressure that was building in your head. If it wasn't for him you would buckle and fall.

"You okay? I don't understand how you aren't used to this yet." Akaza rubbed your back. You shot him a glare and released your hand out of his.

"What is she wearing?" You pursed your lips in annoyance as Kokushibo appeared in your line of sight.

"I'm getting out of this dress right now, don't worry about it." You snapped, done with this whole night already. Why were they all acting like you never dressed up before?

You were wearing a dress for the first time though...maybe that's what had them reeling like this.

"No, I like it. You look beautiful." The upper one stared down at you, his hand resting at your shoulder, slowly gliding down to your lower back as he assessed you.

"We should get you more dresses, and have Daki braid your hair more often." He mused. A shiver ran up your spine as his cold fingers kissed your skin.

"I don't feel comfortable in this. I am practically naked." You objected, looking up at Kokushibo through your lashes.

"Only bonus points if you ask me." Douma winked, his eyes dark with lust as he cocked his head with a cheeky smile.

It was like whatever happened a few minutes ago never did. He was back to his old self. Much to your relief and dismay.

"Stop acting like an animal in heat you idiot." Akaza sneered, but the dust of pink on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Which one of you took her out of the kimono I picked for her?" There it was. A voice, cold as ice, heavy as stone and threatening like a knife against skin.

Muzan was standing across from you. His head high, hands behind his back and maroon eyes radiating annoyance.

Muzan was very controlling of what you wore, ate and just did overall.

Douma was in for a lot of shit.

"Ah Lord Muzan! isn't she pretty? My followers know exactly what to do with her!" Douma pushed you forward, showcasing you to the demon king.

You slightly pouted your lips. You hated being pranced around like an animal in a zoo. You just wanted to change into comfortable-covering-clothes.

Muzan took you in, walking around you as if he was deciding to buy a new piece of furnace. He was judging you.

"I've seen this style before. Did your followers research her western background?" Muzan asked as he let his hands wander over the material; tracing the silver that were hiding your breasts.

"They did, and they did such a magnificent job."

No they didn't. You never wore anything like this back home.

Home. You missed it.

"I wore dresses at home-" Muzan grabbed your jaw, you coughed.

"-back in my former country, they were nothing like this." You managed to get out with the aching grip of the demon king on your jugular.

You had to stop messing that up.

Muzan loosened his grip just a tat.

"You look nice in this. Maybe I should let you indulge in your own culture more."

Your eyes grew big.

"Are you serious?"

"Dare you question me?"

You shook your head no as best you could with his hands still lingering between oxygen and choking.

When was the last time you had enjoyed something from your culture?

When was the last time you spoke in your tongue?

Sadness tugged at your heartstrings when you made that realization, but you quickly cut the emotion off as you went down on your knees. Muzan letting your go to have you grovel at his feet.

You bowed down; head touching the floor the way he loved.

"Thank you, my lord." You felt the insides of your stomach climbing up your throat as you said it, but you forced it down. You had learned quickly enough to do what Muzan likes, and thank him for the smallest bit of gratitude.

Having you call him 'lord' was another one of his manipulation tactics. he wanted you to know the power dynamic between the two of you. He wanted you to know where you stood exactly.

Muzan hummed in satisfaction. You rose to your feet again with the help of Kokushibo, who so kindly stuck out his arm for you to take.

"No, stay on your knees." Muzan commanded. Your mouth fell open, but without any hesitation you bend down on your knees again. Your dress spread around you in a perfect circle.

Muzan tilted your chin up. He raveled in the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. You looked so fragile with those flowers in your hair and the white clothing your skin.

He felt his trousers tighten just at the thought of corrupting the innocent thing before him.

You felt the eyes of the three demons behind you burning holes in your body as Muzan traced his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Kiss me." He whispered.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. you weren't feeling up to this right now, but the consequences of rejecting Muzan-rejecting the demon king-would be a grave mistake.

Muzan couldn't handle that a mere human could reject a near God like himself. It hurt is ego immensely.

You gently stood up, not breaking eye contact with him once, you let your breath fan over his lips, mentally preparing for what was about to come. Muzan grabbed your hips as he watched you.

Pushing back every urge to stop, you lunged forward, crashing your lips on the frozen ones of Muzan. Your warmth enveloped Muzan's nerves as he reciprocated the kiss. He was more fierce, more eager, and after a second he took back control. Forcing you to stay in place as he explored the cavity of your mouth. You felt your oxygen running out as Muzan bit and tugged on your bottom lip. He dominated you easily. Your hands were taut around Muzan's shoulders. Squeezing as the need for oxygen became to extreme.

The moment spots started forming in your vision, Muzan broke the connection. You heaved, chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. You didn't stop looking at him, you knew he saw looking away as a form of 'not wanting' (even though that's what you did feel). You felt your lips swell and your face heat up. Your eyes were glossy and Muzan wore a small grin on his face.

He loved seeing you like this. Lips plump read, face hot and bothered and eyes doe-like.

"You are talented in putting on a show, darling." You furrowed your brows, Muzan guided your face in the direction of the other demons'.

You felt your muscles tense at the sight of all three looking at you like you were the first source of water they found after days of traveling in a dessert.

You felt fear fluttering in your stomach like moths pouncing on a flame.

You barely made it out alive when with one of them. You wouldn't be able to take all four.

"N-no, please, I-" Muzan raked his sharpened nails over the silver, it broke without any resistance, just like you predicted.

"Don't worry. They'll do as I say, and for now I want them to watch."

He kissed your shoulder as the shield slowly broke off your body.

You got what you wanted though, you got out of the dress.

[strangerstilinski]

𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: robin is beautiful all of the time, but she's especially gorgeous when she comes. (1.4k)

warnings: reader with a vagina, use of a strap-on, robin receiving, smut, pls let me know if i missed anything, (lil disclaimer: image above is a mannequin & is not meant to resemble the reader in any way)

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

dividers by @strangergraphics and @cafekitsune

"Holy shit."

The words are breathless as they fall from Robin's lips. Her jaw has gone a little slack now that you've pushed the silicone cock as far as it will go, your hips finally nestled flush against her own.

You've got your weight resting on one forearm, but you can't help readjusting just a bit so that you can brush a loose strand of hair back from her face. You stroke your thumb softly over the apple of her flushed cheek, the pad of your finger running over the smattering of freckles painting her skin.

"Y'okay?" You check quietly, nose dragging along the length of her own. You press a sticky, sweet kiss to her lips as she nods a little wildly in response to your question.

"Good," Robin promises in a croak, "Good, good. Please move-"

There's no stopping the soft huff of laughter that escapes you at her desperation. Robin is so beautiful like this — needy, pliant underneath you, a little sweaty. God, she's gorgeous.

You place one final kiss to her slack lips before pushing up on your arms a little, knees sinking into the mattress as you try to find your footing. Your naked stomachs slide together as you pull out just a few inches, both of your skin silky and a little sweat slick from the lead up to this. The two of you have spent nearly the last hour rolling around between heated kisses and wandering hands, dominance shifting back and forth until you'd finally asked on a particularly well-aimed curl of your fingers if she wanted you to fuck her.

"Yes," Robin repeats now, a drawn-out moan falling from her lips as you sink back into her heat and begin to find a steady rhythm. "Ohh, baby, tha's good. You're doing.. so good-"

She gasps as her back arches, her legs clamping down around your thighs so she can raise her hips to meet your thrusts a little better. Robin's moan is loud when she finds the angle she'd been searching for, and your cunt pulses in response, a wave of arousal dripping from your folds and coating your inner thighs.

Your wrists ache a little while you try to keep the trajectory of your hips just where she likes it. The muscles in your thighs and backside burn with exertion, but it doesn't take long for Robin's moans make the shift from deep and keening to those wonderfully high, increasingly-desperate little sounds that indicate her orgasm is getting close.

You grunt and take a leap of faith in bracing one hand on the headboard for a little more stability, hitching Robin's thigh a little higher on your hip in the process. Your fingers curl around the top of the bed frame to support your weight as your lips find hers in a mess of teeth and tongue, hungrily swallowing up every one of her delicious sounds.

"Touch yourself." You urge, panting softly into her mouth with another sharp roll of your hips.

The sound of the silicone sinking back into her cunt is drowned out by the way Robin whines at your words. Your sweaty forehead falls against her own, her damp fringe clinging to your skin while she slips a hand down between your bodies.

You watch in a fascinated sort of trance as her eyes roll back as she follows your command. Her eyelashes flutter, the whites of her eyes visible for just a moment before they fall shut with the slick drag of her fingers over her clit. She bumps the hard base of the strap in her quick strokes, her breath hitching a couple of times with aborted moans. Her chest is heaving nearly as hard as yours is as her peak gets closer and closer.

"Gonna come," Robin gasps, hips jumping, sweaty thighs tightening around your waist. Her jaw quivers as her head pushes back into the pillows, chin raising toward the ceiling and blue eyes pinching shut. "Shit, baby I- I'm- fuckkk, ohmygod 'm cumming, I'm-"

Her words cut off with a ragged moan, legs clamping tight around you and pulling your hips flush to her own. She keeps you there as her orgasm rolls through her, grinding herself desperately onto your cock while she continues to brush her fingers over her clit in increasingly distracted little strokes. Your pelvis aches with the way the wide base of the cock digs into you, bruising with the way it's pressing harshly into the top of your mound, but you wouldn't dream of pulling away before she's thoroughly satisfied. Not a chance in hell.

She's stunning with the way her lips are parted on a silent moan. Her face and chest are flushed pink beneath the freckles that cover every inch of her skin, her hair a little wild from being fucked into the pillows, her lips darker than usual and beautifully kiss-swollen. Her breasts bounce with the sharp little quakes of her orgasm, her nipples peaked despite a lack of stimulation. You wish that you could lean down to capture one with your mouth, but you'd have to pull out in order to lean down enough for that to be possible, so instead you settle for dropping down to let your own breasts press against the softness of hers, leaving loving kisses all over face in the meantime.

You're pressing your lips in a sloppy trail over her cheeks and the corner of her mouth when she finally goes lax beneath you. Robin's legs drop from around your waist all at once, her arms star-fishing at her sides. Her eyes crack open to stare unseeingly up at the ceiling behind you for a moment while she tries to catch her breath.

You brace one hand on her hip as you shift back enough to let the strap slip out of her cunt with a wet sound. The pink silicone shines with evidence of her orgasm and it smears onto the outside of her thigh when you fall to the mattress beside her. You slot yourself beneath one of her arms and curl your sweaty body around her own with a sigh, your cheek pressing into the softness of her breast as you finally let your own muscles relax.

"Shit," Robin murmurs finally, a giddy little breathless laugh falling from her lips while she wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, "Shit, that was.. Wow."

Your chin digs into her sternum when you look up at her, your eyes dragging slow along the underside of her jaw, lingering a little on the pretty shadows of her long lashes kissing her brow bone.

"Is Robin Buckley actually speechless right now?" You tease, fingers digging into the curve of her waist until she snorts in surprise and tries to wriggle away under your weight. "Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

"Oh, shut up," Robin snaps with no bite, "So I don't quite meet the usual standards of my witty repartee immediately following an earth shattering, nay, a brain rattling orgasm. Don't pretend your brain is tip-top after you-"

"Earth shattering, huh?" You have to hide your grin behind a kiss to her chest when her narrowed eyes shift down toward you.

"You..." Robin huffs and the hand resting on your shoulder blades trails down to pinch meanly at your hip, "When my limbs are no longer jelly, you.. you're gonna get it. You'll rue the day you made fun of me in such a fragile state."

"Mmm," You hum playfully, "Don't threaten me with a good time, babe."

An adorably disgruntled little grumble pushes past Robin's lips, and before you can even process what's happening, she's scrambling out from underneath you to pin you to the mattress. Her knees push your own apart as she settles on top of you, the heavy silicone of the strap flopping against your belly as you land on your back.

There's a glint in Robin's eye that has butterflies swarming in the pit of your stomach and fluttering straight down into your cunt. Her fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as she pushes back, her head dipping to press a teasing kiss into the sweaty skin of your hip right below one of the straps of the harness.

"Oh, baby, baby, baby.." Robin tuts threateningly, "You are in for it now."

Your pussy throbs. You gulp.

You're in for it, indeed.

[heartz4matt]

summary: matt is clingy, but you’re busy… once you finish your work, he won’t stop clinging to you.

fashiondesigner!reader x clingy!matt

FLUFF, whining, impatience, nudity, light touching and kissing, mentions of sex

(simply wrote this because i was bored, and felt the need to post ❤️‍🩹)

“baby please” matt whines as he wrapped his arms around your waist to rest his head on your shoulder. he had been trying to convince you to cuddle with him for an hour now, but you always denied. work is consuming you and your free time, and matt hates it. “mph.” he huffs in your ear as a friend forms on his face. he pressed your body closer to yours as you tried to put some fabric on your mannequin.

“matt, please. i need to focus on this dress, it has to be finished by tomorrow and i have a lot to do.” you sigh as you feel matts grip tighten around you as his warm breaths hits your neck. “wanna cuddle with my baby…” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fact that his face was practically buried in your neck. “maybe later.” you sigh again, this time heavier.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

after a couple hours on working on the dress and finally getting matt off of you, it was finally done. you nod in approval as you look at the finished result, proud of yourself. you take the dress off the mannequin and carefully pack it on a box and put the address to the receiver.

as you walk downstairs, you see matt sprawled out on the couch, watching a random movie. his head snaps to you as you walk down the stairs, carrying the box.

“where ya going? it’s getting late.” “gotta deliver the dress at the post office and then i’ll be back, okay baby?” you ramble on as you put on some random slippers, still in your leggings and hoodie with your hair tied in a lazy bun. matt nods “okay baby, sure you don’t want me to come?” he gets off the couch as he starts to walk toward to you. “it’ll be boring, but come if you want.” you chuckle as you walk out with your car keys.

matt practically jumps into the car as he sits down in the passenger seat and plugging his car to the AUX. you put the dress in the backseat and get in the drivers seat, driving to the post office.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“can we please cuddle now?” matt whines as you make your way to the front door, coming home from the post office. he takes your hand and drags you to your shared room.

“maaatt…” you whine. “i need to take a shower.” you pout. matt groan and turns around to face you. “you look good babe, don’t worry.” he smiles softly. “i don’t smell good tho.” “i don’t care.” he replied immediately. “you’re one gross man, matthew.” you chuckle as you let go of his hand to go to the bathroom. matt follows you to the bathroom.

your turn your head with a confused look. “need a shower too.” he mumbled. you let out an amused laugh. “yeah?” “mhm.” “fine.” you laugh softly. matts face lights up and he grins at you. he grabs your hand and drags you to the bathroom.

once you’re in the bathroom, you start the shower. as you try to get the water warm, matt immediately strips his clothes and pouts at you. “yeah yeah wait” you chuckle and strip your own clothes before taking your hair down and holding a hand out for matt. he gladly takes your hand and you drag him into the shower with you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

as you wrap a towel around your body, you feel arms snaking around your waist. matt is standing behind you, without any clothes or anything covering his body. “baby put on a towel.” you chuckle as you turn your head. “why? can’t we just walk around naked? we live here all alone, no one will see us.” matt pouts and you can’t help but smile at his cute pout. “hm, so you wanna walk around all nude?” you ask. “yes. please?” matt tilts his head with big puppy eyes. you sigh playfully as you speak up. “fine.” matts pout turns into a smile. “finally, i don’t like it when you hide your body.

you let go of the towel around you, exposing your whole body to matt as you start to walk out of the bathroom. “you coming?” you look back at matt, his cheeks red as he admires your body. “mhm…” he walks with you to your shared bedroom.

you lay down in bed and drag the covers up. matt follows after you and snuggles close to you. “can you cuddle me?” he asks, with red cheeks and a shy smile. you giggle at his question. “of course you can.” you open your arms for him and he immediately rests his head on your chest. “let’s go to sleep, yeah?”

this is a loooooong draft, and not proofread. i just felt the need to post something 😭

[paradoxbeta]

there is never going to be a normal way to put this but can we see your iterator designs naked

like. just. how'd you design them under their clothes

yeah of course! heres a moon i whipped up

and now for some talking, because ive thought a bit about clotheless iterator designs:

moon's design was inspired off of the atlas models from boston dynamics (and probably all subsequent iterators i draw will be at least somewhat inspired off the same). theyre pretty handy sources of inspiration considering they look awesome, and since their movement is astonishingly fluid, theyre great models for what sort of joint and limb designs create articulate results. i think its obvious which one had the heaviest hand in inspiring looks to the moon

moon is an older model so in terms of squishiness (for lack of a better term) there is none except for the face. actually, little related detail, the base of her thumb is not flexible, its essentially a small solid block. if youve ever owned a poseable mannequin hand with an inflexible thumb base you probably know that it can cause issues with fine motion in specific circumstances: its just a hiccup of being an older make. the more recent you go then usually the less bare-bones the designs are, they get filled-out midriffs and more "pinchable" areas. take this guy for example:

this is old art and there's things here i would do differently now, but note the squishier underarm: that sort of thing (generally) becomes more common the more recent your models are.

another thing that changes over old to new models is the amount of variation in how the body is constructed, at the beginning i imagine there were only a few select tried-and-true "right" ways to do things, but as time goes on and more avenues of construction become available, designing an iterator's puppet becomes more and more of an art form that is influenced more and more by the judgement and creative tastes of the puppet designer(s). paneling becomes more a matter of aesthetic instead of functionality, and you start to see vanity features appear more frequently (like nipple adjacent markings as seen above, lol).

id say that while older models are closer to the atlas models in appearance, the newest iterators would probably bear more resemblance to the cyborg bodies found in the alita: battle angel film

anyway all of that is to say naked iterators are cool

[21wanderer]

Night at the Museum

Perhaps there had been signs he had overlooked, maybe there had been plenty of clues that something was going to happen at the museum, that someone had made plans and preparations, and it was culminating tonight.

The museum had amongst its collections, a collection of movie memorabilia, one of the memorabilia being a set of costumes of Batman and Robin from the movie of the same name from 1997 with George Clooney and Chris O'Donnell in the respective roles. A movie of questionable quality certainly, but iconic in its own way.

The suits were by no means unique, as there were made multiple of them during the taping of the movie, but now a set was on display here along side other superhero and movie pieces. As the night watch, he was responsible for keeping an eye on all these artefacts, which usually wasn’t particularly eventful, he might do some cleaning and some fixes around the museum, but otherwise, there wasn’t much to do. Not that he complained, he loved history and could enjoy the exhibits by himself. He did have a particular good eye for the Batman and Robin costumes, but apparently he wasn’t the only one.

An uneventful night became very eventful, when he entered the movie memorabilia collection, he had heard voices and went to investigate. Half of the security cameras weren’t working, which probably was a sign, that something bad was going to happen, but he still went to check. As soon as he entered the room, he was assaulted and overpowered by two masked men. They pressed him firmly against the wall, whilst stuffing a gag into his mouth, they then forced him down on a chair, and tied him to it with rope from their duffle bag. They didn’t seemed fazed by the night watch, quite the contrary, they seemed even more excited, as if they had wanted someone to witness this… And the night watch, whilst fearful and shocked, felt something stir inside him.

These two burglars were a mystery, they didn’t seem like your typical burglar, there were something strange about their approach and their goal, that the night watch would soon come to realize. He saw them approach the Batman display, whispering excitedly to one another, not even caring that he was sitting here watching everything. Had his mouth not been gagged, his jaw would have dropped, as he saw the two men do, what he had always dreamt of doing; touching the suits.

The burglars began to undress the two mannequins, the night watch trying to figure out exactly what they were doing and why. He could feel his stomach twisting and turning as he looked in fear, but also longing as the superhero costumes were disassembled and discarded on the floor.

They had undressed the two mannequins of Batman and Robin and thrown all the neoprene and leather on the floor. The night watch was baffled, if they wanted to steal the suits, why haven’t they just stuffed them in their duffle bag and ran? Was there more they wanted?

From their duffle bag one of the masked figure pulled out a utility knife. A chill ran down the night watch’s spine. What were they planning? He stared entranced and fearful, his conflicting emotions made it difficult for him to think straight. He was starting to remember the potential danger he was in, he stared at it with his heart in his throat, fearing that this could turn ugly pretty quickly.

But to his surprise and bewilderment, they did something else. With the blade of the knife one of the masked men began cutting off the head of the naked Robin mannequin, he then handed it to his accomplice, who took the head and turned his back on the night watch.

With his free hand the burglar pulled off his balaclava and dropped it on the floor. The night watch could only see the back of his head, but he appeared to be young and skinny with a buzz cut haircut.

To the night watch’s big surprise the young man plunged his head into the hollowed out Robin-head, pushing and pulling the silicone into place. The night watch wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but he could not take his eyes of it. After what seemed like an eternity the new ’Robin’ turned around a flashed a smile. It was unbelievable, it was so realistic. It was like the young Chris O’Donnell stood in the room, the night watch was in awe, he now knew exactly what the burglars wanted, and he felt aroused, he felt insatiable, as terrified as he was, he wanted to see it all.

The still masked burglar nodded in approval, having dropped the headless Robin silicone mannequin on the floor, he then went over to the naked ’Batman’.

And just like before, he cut off the head, turned his back on the night watch, pulled off his mask and plunged his head into the hollowed Batman’s.

Once the other burglar was satisfied with his new face, he turned towards his accomplice, who placed his hand on the George Clooney-impersonator’s face, before leaning in and kissing him.

Despite the potential danger he was in, the night watch eagerly awaited, what he assumed the burglars would do next. He wasn’t sure they would actually do it, but they didn’t disappoint him. They stripped themselves of their black onesies, and ran the utility knife down the spines of both of the mannequins, creating large enough gaps for them to enter.

Slowly, but steadily they both began to force their way inside the hollow mannequins. The night watch felt like his nether regions were about to explode at the sight. The two men were transforming into movie stars as their scrawny bodies disappeared into the silicone, replacing them with the perfectly sculpted physiques of Batman and Robin.

There was something completely breathtaking about their actions. The night watch could only dream of what it would be like to slip into a silicone body like that, instantly gaining flawless skin, a handsome face and some quick and easy muscle mass. He wanted nothing more, than to be like those two right now.

Once they were both inside they began a process of self-gratification, rubbing their hands all over their new smooth and toned bodies. The night watch was in awe at the sight. It was flawless. The two impersonators were clearly as aroused as him as they embraced each other, kissing each other deeply and passionately with their erections pressing against each other.

Having lost any sense of time, their make-out could have lasted hours as they caressed their new ’naked’ bodies, clearly beyond satisfied with their result. But they weren’t quite done yet, there was still a final trick in their bag.

They began rubbing some sort of paste on each other’s backs and around their necks. It dawned on the night watch what they were doing… They were sealing themselves inside. He would have thought that it would have been unbearably warm inside those silicone bodies, but apparently it wasn’t the case. They were going all in, no turning back, they wanted to stay as Clooney and O'Donnell forever.

The night watch couldn’t bear it anymore, he was so full of longing and desire and without knowing it and despite the gag, he let out a deep and audible moan.

For the first time for what seemed like hours, the impersonators turned towards their spectator, they both chuckled, seemingly enjoying they were being watched. The naked George-impersonator took a few steps toward their hostage: ”I hope you are enjoying the show, it’s only halfway done.” Did he have any idea, how much their witness was into this?

’George’ flexed his right arm, it responded flawlessly, you wouldn’t believe it wasn’t real unless you had seen, what had transpired before. ‘George’ turned away, looking at ’Chris’ who had begun pulling on the Robin-costume.

The night watch stared still entranced, no longer feeling any fear, just unyielding desire. ‘Chris’ had slipped into the pants of the Robin-suit, they were a perfect fit of course, maybe even a little tighter, but the mannequin was made to fit the proportions of the suit, and now, in some bizarre way, they still were.

‘George’ had also put on the pants of the Batman-suit and then helped ‘Chris’ zipping the back of Robin’s top. ‘Chris’ returned the favour as ‘George’ slipped into Batman’s top. The mannequins were almost completely dressed, they put on the costumes’ gloves, boots, belts and capes, then ‘Batman’ pulled on his leather cowl and ‘Robin’ his mask.

The transformation was complete, it was like the mannequins had simply come to life, except it really wasn’t that. It was almost more unbelievable. The two burglars strutted around for a bit, getting comfortable in their new skins and costumes. The night watch was so deeply infatuated, he could only imagine, how they must feel, how he wanted to be them.

“Are you satisfied?” said ‘Batman’ to ‘Robin’. “Very satisfied,” ‘Robin’ replied, whilst tweaking the nipples of his suit, “this feels so good.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” ‘Batman’ responded with a chuckle, running his gloved hand down to his suit’s crotch. ‘Robin’ wrapped his arms around ‘Batman’ and pulled him towards himself and they locked lips once again. The night watch moaned again, as he felt like climaxing any moment, he couldn’t contain himself anymore. The two ‘superheroes’ turned to look at him.

”I think he’s into it!” ’Batman’ laughed to ’Robin’ like they had been completely aware of it from the start. The ‘dark knight’ walked towards the night watch, whose heartbeat began to increase with every step of the approaching ‘hero’.

‘Batman’ placed his hand firmly on the night watch’s erection, giving it a few tugs. “Yeah, you are really into it, aren’t you? We had a feeling…”

The night watch let out another moan, the culmination of a most eventful night.

‘Batman’ walked away and began picking up the clothes of their former identities, the burglars’ balaclavas, onesies and so forth, all the traces of what they had been.

’Robin’ chuckled and walked up to their hostage. He placed his boot firmly on the night watch’s aroused member and smiled the boyish smile of the young Chris O'Donnell. ’Robin’ leaned in on the night watch, their faces so close, that he could smell the silicone and the warmth radiating from it, ’Robin’ placed his mouth inches from the night watch’s ear and whispered sensually: “If you let us get away… We’ll make it worth your while. You can join us if you want. If this turns you on as much as it does us, then I think we’ll get along nicely, and we can even get you a skin like ours.”

’Robin’ stepped back, ’Batman’ was done tidying up after them.

”Give it some thought,” said ’Robin’, “we’ll make sure, you won’t regret it.” The night watch felt the ropes loosen and the gag too. ‘Robin’ then gave him a kiss on the cheek, the night watch felt the warm silicone against his skin, it felt so realistically, he then felt ‘Robin’s’ tongue in his ear, and he almost felt like fainting from the hotness.

The sound of two heavy sets of leather boots walking echoed through the empty halls as the ‘dark knight’ and the ‘boy wonder’ left the crime scene, leaving the night watch behind, pondering what his next move should be.