#sh k!nk

[cr4zyg1rlsstuff]

TW!! SFX MAKEUP!!

just some silly arm makeup!! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

[petpuppydolly]

(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ﾟ｡* °✧ Him cumming on my fr3sh s3lf h4rm scarz >_< 🩹🩸⛓️

[h3ml0ck3]

Ah I wanna cvt again ... maybe I can carve into my thigh ... or chest ? All the places we could cvt into <3 ...

[ikanekokult]

fuck something that turns me on is gore and violence - ohnw god ~

— 🫀🥀

[bl00dybunn13]

date idea: tie my legs apart, burn your name into my inner thigh, and laugh at how turned on i get ♡♡♡

[graysgore]

I wanna cut each other up so bad that we are bleeding and carve hearts into our skin so we can show that we belong together

ohhh.... i need this

i can imagine it... the excitement from being cut, the intimacy of our blood mixing <3

i would love to watch it scar and be forever etched into our skin.. i can go ahead and make that heart, if youd like...

[sparkledogboy]

hai ^_^ something self indulgent and nasty i wrote and wanted to share with the world (big warning for sh/nsfw)

Astrophel toyed with the blade in his hand.

He turned it over, and over again in his palm, watching the soft colorful lights in his room glint off the shiny metal against the soft, pale skin of his hand.

Astrophel had done this before. Many times. His skin was evidence of this unfortunate truth, tougher than his hands and decorated with rows and columns of straight lines, layered over and over again over the years as the world moved too quickly around him. This time, however, was different.

Astrophel had been exploring that which made him tick - or rather, what made other people tick and could stir up something within himself, too. As the ache and emptiness of his teenage years became more distant and his painful memories faded, the adolescent urges of need for self satisfaction came back with a vengeance, this time fueled by all the difficult emotions and experiences he had. His damaged mind now sought sensation not because he thought he deserved to suffer, but because he had the sick feeling deep down he would enjoy it differently - as he had fantasized about before.

The deep, vibrant color of it against his milky skin, the sharp smell of damp iron in the room, the taste of it on his fingers - this was previously a ritual he performed upon himself when it all came to be too much, and yet now he was performing it for his own pleasure.

Astrophel turned the blade over in his hand once more as his stomach turned with it. He set it down beside him on the plush rug he knelt on and brought his hands to the front of his jeans. He sat back slightly on his ankles as he unzipped and lowered his pants, sighing as he rubbed and traced his fingers over the scars that covered his thighs. His mind raced as he considered what he was about to allow himself to do; he had been clean for so long, but this didn’t count, did it? It couldn’t - this was different, self indulgent in a way that was driven by deep, primal urges, and not trivial human emotions like before, right?

His vision flashed white hot as he slashed the blade up diagonally from just above his knee, upwards and inwards. The ringing in his ears began to subside and as he faded back into his room, back into his body, his eyes were already fixed upon the first gash he had allowed himself to have; he watched as the stark white slit became dotted with red specks, which then grew and cohered and colored the slit deep scarlet entirely. He realized how bad his sticky hands were shaking, damp from sweat and his fingers now slightly smeared with blood. The thrill was completely dissimilar to before - this sacrilegious procedure had now become an act of self worship, of self creation like he was his own god. There was no guilt like before, no self hatred lingered within him this time. His mind was clouded with these thoughts as he unquestioningly brought the blade down again and this time cut slowly across the top of his thigh, noting the sharp, hot sensation of the edge gliding through his epidermis, teasing the layers below. The feeling was intoxicating. He instinctively brought his other hand to his crotch and squeezed the growing bulge he found there through his boxers, wiping the blood from his fresh cut with his thumb and sticking it into his mouth.

Fuck.

What had changed inside him that had fucked him up so bad like this? Yeah, he had always been kind of fucked up; normal people don’t cut themselves in the first place. But why, after all this time, had the urge come back for such a different reason?

It didn’t matter. Right now, Astrophel was living in the moment. He was completely enveloped in the feeling, both the mental and physical aspects that came with it. He could barely feel the warm stinging on his skin over the pressure building behind his eyes and in his balls. He pulled down his boxers, smearing the leaking blood from his thighs down onto his lower legs. He tossed them aside and began to cut into himself haphazardly, forming crosshatches and parallels in his skin, and then noting the consistency of blood between his fingers as he stroked his cock with the other hand.

Hmm… Yeah. It made sense that he shouldn’t let his leaking fluids go to waste, no matter where they were coming from; the precum leaking from the head of his cock was valuable self lubricant, sure, but he knew what he had to do next to bring himself over the edge.

He continued to quickly slice neat rows into the top of his thighs with one hand as he massaged them with the other. He then brought his bloodied hand back to his mouth, spitting into it and then wrapping it around his cock. He stroked it faster, unable to stop now even if he wanted to, even if the guilt and reality of his situation came back to him. He thought of all his trauma, all of his grief, all of his pain, and what it had amounted to back then - now, he was allowing himself to perform his reliable sacred ritual for a different sort of sick self satisfaction.

The stickiness of his drying blood began to cause resistance between his hand and his cock. He collected more between his fingers from his thigh, not hesitating to acknowledge the potential cross contamination of precum and spit into his fresh wounds. All that mattered in this moment was his pain for his pleasure. He cut three more lines under his right hip and again wiped them with his thumb as they turned from white to red, refilling and then spilling over the edges, running down the side of his ass and dripping onto the rug below him.

The sharp hot pain and the sensation of the warm dark fluid creeping down his skin was enough to make him lose himself. He bit his lip, threw his head back and whined as he came hard over his sticky, bloody fist, shooting thick white ropes onto his rug to mingle with the blood that was already there waiting for it. As his orgasm faded, he again came back down to earth from the whiteness that immersed his vision and his eyes were already fixed upon the deep cuts in his legs and the now oxidizing blood on his skin, on his hands, and on his softening, sensitive cock. He noted his heart thudding in his chest, blood pounding in his ears as it oozed slowly from his thighs.

The guilt began to come now. It was different, sure, but the end result was the same. A brief moment of distraction, of heightened senses, of intense self mutilation for just a short release of brain chemicals, and then you’re back to feeling just how you did before, only worse.

But maybe he didn’t feel worse because he regretted doing it. He knew he would enjoy the familiarity of caring for these wounds, watching them shrink and fade into raised lines the same color as their surroundings, to be kissed and traced by fingers later down the line.

His addiction was back with a vengeance, out for blood. Only this time, it was his gift to himself, his hedonistic, selfish indulgence, and not a last resort to cope or to punish himself. It was holy, it was sacred, and it was hot as fuck. He sat still for a few more moments on his floor before he allowed himself to break the spell and rinse the evidence of his late night off his skin and down the drain, bandaging his thighs when he was done.

[psych0ticwh0re]

WHERE IS UR PFP FROM WHATS THE SORCE ITS SO FREAKING PRETTYYYY IM JEALOUS IF ITS URS :3

Its from twitter!! Unfortunately, im not able to go that deep yet, but im getting there! I dont remember the user, but i think you can easily find it on shtwt or 988twt

[cvvvmgvvvtzzz]

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) teehee

[h3ml0ck3]

Tris(SH) ramble warning

Aaa we wanna reach fat so bad >///< preferably just the beginning !!! ^_^ we wanna see the lil beans poppin out.

Reaching our goal is soo hard n scary... we're so careful... I just wish we could finally reach it (；ω；) we want scars so so bad qwq we have a few good ones on our arm but we'd love to have some good ones right on our wrist ... >m< waaaaaaa

[ikanekokult]

i want to cut his initial into my body again

[bl00dybunn13]

bending paperclips into lil shapes so I can use them to give myself cute burns :3

[angelpanlc]

mom cutting little hearts into all the places on ur body ur insecure abt so every time u look at them u remember how much she loves u ♡♡♡♡♡♡

[graysgore]

seriously considering cutting up my mouth

[66beherit]

stay strong guys ❤️

[muraseclinic]

i want to condition a toy to love my abuse so bad then abandon it.. and when it tries to find someone else ,, it’ll realize that nobody will threaten to rape it ,, drug it ,, make it to cut itself ,, or tell it just how it’ll be killed quite like i can .ᐟ i’ve ruined you for everyone baby ,, you were moulded just for my entertainment ,, my plaything ,, and now nobody else can play with you ♱