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subliminalbo · 10 months ago

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This story is a companion to Assimilation #4: Night Sounds

Days later, Nina still couldn’t believe what she’d seen at her sister’s apartment. She played the moment over and over in her head until she convinced herself that none of it could be real. Soon, the strangest details of that night retreated like so many forgotten nightmares. But even as the images faded, the feelings lingered. The initial shock when she opened the door to find the nude bodies of her sister and her roommates bathed in the moonlight, the sudden arousal when Gabrielle and Allison turned their attentions to her, and the unimaginable dread that that feeling filled her with.

At night, Nina had to bite down on her shirt to stifle her moans. She whimpered as her fingers glided over her throbbing clit, mere feet away from her sleeping roommate Chloe.

Nina had masturbated before, but never this frequently, never so obsessively. She loathed herself for it. Chloe smuggled a new boy into their dorm every other night. "Call me reductive," Chloe had once said to Nina with a shrug. "But sometimes a woman's just a set of holes that need to be filled."

God, Nina needed help before she ended up just like her.

"I think you're holding something back, Nina," Dr. Fielding said with a sharp click of her pen.

She was more intimidating than Nina had expected. A head taller, with these intense, dark eyes that burrowed through her as she spoke.

Nina hugged herself as she spoke. "I told you everything I saw. I walked in and they were just there, all three of them..."

"Why do you think it had such a profound effect on you?"

"It didn't," Nina squeezed herself tighter. "I mean, I just never thought my sister would ever take part in something like that. It just surprised me."

"Seeing your sister in the act of sex with her friends shook you to your core," Dr. Fielding observed. "Obviously you have a great deal of respect for her, but I think there's something deeper here that we're not accessing."

"I can't think of anything," Nina insisted.

"Maybe we should try a different approach." Dr. Fielding said. "Hypnosis can be effective in retrieving buried or damaged memories."

Nina was skeptical, but she deferred to Dr. Fielding's experience.

"I'm going to breathe deeply in, and then deeply out. I want you to match my pattern."

"Okay," Nina replied slowly. "I'm not very good at stuff like this."

"Don't overthink it," Dr. Fielding assured her. "Just follow my lead. I'm breathing in...and I'm breathing out...you can close your eyes if it makes it easier."

Nina followed Dr. Fielding's instruction. Her shoulders relaxed, her eyes flitted shut. She hated when people told her to "relax," as if relaxation was a state she could simply access. If it were that easy, why would she ever need therapy?

But it was easier once Nina closed her eyes. She simply focused on the rhythmic sound of Dr. Fielding’s breathing. She counted the time between inhale and exhale, eight seconds, and soon she was matching the pattern beat for beat. The world began to slow.

"You’re going to repeat what I say, Nina," Dr. Fielding continued.

"Yes, Dr. Fielding," Nina replied.

"Visualize a space in your mind. A space deep, deep down in the depths of your subconscious, as deep as you can go."

"As deep as I can go," Nina repeated quietly.

"No thoughts can penetrate this space. You are alone here with my voice."

"No thoughts...alone..."

"Now I want you to go even deeper. Find a place where the concept of free will ceases to exist."

"Deeper..."

"Find that place...and drop."

With a click of Dr. Fielding's pen, Nina's head dropped as if an invisible cord that held her together had been severed.

"Can you still hear me, Nina?" Dr. Fielding asked.

"Yes..." Nina's speech was noticeably slower, her gaze obscured by the hair dangling over her eyes.

"Your conscious mind is a liability, Nina. Its motivation is to make order out of chaos. It buries what it cannot comprehend. As long as you let your conscious mind rule you, you'll never truly know your own self. I'm going to help you access your true memories, Nina, but for this exercise I need you to leave your conscious mind down there in that deep, inaccessible place.

"When I click my pen, you'll come back to me completely blank. No thoughts, no will. In this state, you'll be totally obedient to me, do you understand?"

"Totally obedient..." Nina moaned.

Click.

Nina's head snapped back up. She looked at Dr. Fielding with a pair of distant, glassy eyes. A drop of drool fell from her chin to her shirt.

"Remember, Nina," Dr. Fielding exhaled. "No thoughts, no will, no conscious mind. Only truth. So tell me how you feel."

“I feel so…” Nina’s eyes fluttered. Her hand traveled unconsciously up to squeeze her breast. “So…” she began to massage herself through her shirt. "So horny..." She sunk down in her seat, her legs spreading open, the fingers of her other hand tracing desperately along the fly of her jeans.

Dr. Fielding raised a curious eyebrow.

"Well don't let me stop you," she waved a casual hand. "Masturbate. Let all of that tension go."

"Thank you..." Nina moaned. Her lips parted her tongue as she unbuttoned her jeans. Her hand slid under the waistband, fingers dipping into her wet folds. She released a quiet whimper.

Dr. Fielding scribbled a note.

"How often do you feel horny?" she asked.

"All the time," Nina gasped. Each jolt of pleasure carried her even further from her conscious mind. "Since that night..."

Dr. Fielding leaned forward in her chair. “The night of the orgy,” she said. “Why does it scare you so much? Why are you afraid to explore your body, Nina?”

“Because…” Nina moaned. “This isn’t me. These aren’t my thoughts…aren’t my feelings…It’s…” A sharp cry escaped her lips as the first orgasm took her. “It’s the Voice! The Voice, it...it changed me...”

Dr. Fielding tapped her finger on the arm of her chair, she shifted her crossed legs, let loose a soft, imperceptible sigh. "Can you take me there, Nina? Can you show me what you really saw that night?"

awaken

The sound snaps Nina's eyes wide open. It's so loud that it drives her up from the couch. She knows that what she had heard was a scream, but...

"Stop," Dr. Fielding says.

Nina blinks. She's back in her sister's apartment, back in that night. It’s as if she’s waking from a long dream. She isn’t alone this time. She can hear Dr. Fielding’s voice somewhere on the surface of reality.

"Memory is imperfect," Dr. Fielding explains. "Yet it's the primary source with which we document our experiences. Each time we access a memory, we lose a part of it, change it in some way. Think about how you remember this night, then focus on the moment we're in now. Count the differences. Let's start there."

"There's nothing different," Nina insists. "It's the same dark living room, the same eerie silence, the same..." she pauses, noticing a cluster of voices outside the window. A distant thump, thump, thump of dance music.

"There was a party next door," Nina remembers. "It was so loud when I was falling asleep that I tossed and turned for an hour. But when I woke up, everything was silent. I mean...I remember silence."

"That's very good," Dr. Fielding says. "And now that we know that one part of your memory is wrong, we have to assume that any part of it can be. Do you agree?"

"Yes..."

"What else?"

"I don't...I..." Nina's eyes widen as the sounds of the night come back to her. "It wasn't a scream that woke me up. It was a voice."

"There was someone else in the room?" Dr. Fielding asks.

"No," Nina shakes her head. "Taryn had just come home, but she went straight upstairs. I was completely alone in the living room. I think...I think the voice was in my mind."

submit

Nina released a sharp cry as another orgasm washed over her body. Her eyes were closed. She was still in the darkness of that night, but conscious enough to respond to any of Dr. Fielding's questions. Her search for release grew desperate as she clawed at her clothes, tearing her shirt open until her breast was free.

Dr. Fielding watched with hungry eyes as Nina rolled her thumb and forefinger along the ridges of her hard nipple, moaning quietly between her thoughtful responses, “Can’t stop…have to cum…have to cum…can’t stop…can’t stop cumming…have to…have to cum…can’t stop cumming…”

Dr. Fielding’s legs uncrossed, spreading slightly open. She continued with her questioning.

"What did the voice say?"

come

Nina stands before the bedroom door at the end of the hallway.

"I was empty," she says. "I was powerless to disobey. It said 'come' and I followed it upstairs to this room."

"And this is when you cracked the door open to look inside?" Dr. Fielding asks.

"No," Nina shakes her head. "I mean that's how I remembered it, but..."

"Tell me exactly what happened, Nina."

"It's Taryn's room," Nina promptly replies. "I could hear noises behind the door. I remember the squeak of the bed frame. I remember the deep, desperate moans. But I didn't need to look inside to know what was on the other side of the door. The Master had already shown me."

"The Master?"

"The voice," Nina clarifies. "It commanded me to 'enter,' so I opened the door and I found what I already knew was there."

The door swings open revealing the scene on the other side. Three gorgeous, naked young women caught in the heat of mindless, animal sex. One woman is lying flat on the bed with another down low between her legs. The third stands at the side of the bed directing the action.

"The orgy," Dr. Fielding says.

"I noticed Taryn on the bed first," Nina continues. "Allison was the one between her legs. The way her tits swung made me so horny. I've never been attracted to a woman before but watching it, I wanted her. And then there was my sister, Gabrielle. She climbed on top of Taryn. She lowered herself over Taryn's face and began to ride her, and when Gabrielle climbed back off, I saw a black liquid bubbling up from Taryn's mouth."

"A black liquid? You're sure that's a real memory?"

Taryn is still on the bed convulsing in ecstasy as Gabrielle and Allison stand straight up.

"It was the Master," Nina says. "They were changing her. The transformation isn't complete until the Master fills the vessel's body."

Gabrielle and Allison stare forward toward the doorway. The black liquid rolls down Gabrielle's leg. They are watching Nina.

"That's when I heard their voices in my mind. They were pulling me into the room."

"Their voices?"

"Gabrielle and Allison's."

"You could hear their voices in your head now?"

"They are assimilated," Nina says. "They no longer need to speak."

"How did you escape?"

"I came to my senses when I saw Gabrielle's eyes. It was difficult to make out the details in them, the way they glowed in the darkness. But then I realized that there was no detail at all. Just blank, white, inhuman eyes. I knew that this thing wasn't my sister, I knew that if I followed her into that room that I wouldn't be myself when I left it either."

"So you ran?"

"Yes. I ran as fast as I could."

"But what happened to the voice?” Dr. Fielding asks. She’s standing in the hallway next to Nina now. “The one that pulled you upstairs?"

Nina turns her head away from the scene in Taryn's room to look straight at Dr. Fielding. Her eyes are the same empty, white eyes that she just described in her sister’s gaze.

"The Master is still with me,” she says. “Its voice is buried deep, deep down in my subconscious. As deep as it could go."

obey

Sylvia couldn’t hold back any longer.

In all of her studies she had never come across anything like this. Her expertise was in the human mind. She understood the mechanisms by which people could be manipulated by their own desires, how thoughts and memories and desires could be shaped, shifted, and changed. She knew how to make a person drop to their knees in absolute submission.

But she knew nothing about supernatural forces. She didn’t understand the feeling that moved through her when Nina suddenly opened her glassy eyes. She didn’t understand why she’d risen from her chair and torn open her blouse, promptly discarding her clothes as she joined Nina on the couch. Why she pressed her lips to Nina’s exposed breast, rolling her tongue along Nina’s nipple as she imagined the black liquid filling her mouth.

She didn’t understand why she fucked Nina, positioning herself on the couch so that her legs were locked with the young student’s, their slick pussies grinding together as she rolled her hips. She didn’t understand why Nina’s mantra came flooding from her own mouth between deep gasps and hungry moans.

“Can’t stop…can’t stop…have to cum…have to…can’t stop cumming…have to cum…can’t stop cumming…”

"There is no escape once the Master’s voice touches you," Nina droned. "It breaks you, fills you, reshapes you. Everything you’ve ever known, everything you’ve ever dreamed fades away in total desire to obey the Master’s design. We are all vessels. We will all surrender."

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Sylvia had lost count of the number of times she’d cum. Her mind flickered in and out like an old television set. She’d been trained to resist brainwashing, but each time she came she cared a little bit less. It felt too good to submit. After dedicating her life to the Submission Principle, her theory that all humans have one thing that makes them predisposed to brainwashing, she’d discovered something far more powerful. Something that defied all logic. And she needed to become one with it.

"I need it," Sylvia panted, her tongue hungrily tracing the outline of her lips. "I need to hear the Master. I need to be broken. I need to be filled." Her eyes rolled back as she came again.

"All life surrenders to the Master," Nina moaned.

"All life…all life surrenders…"

When Dr. Fielding woke up, her mind was her own again.

She found herself naked at the foot of the couch. Nina’s feet were pressed into her office carpet. She sat upright on the couch, awaiting Dr. Fielding’s commands.

Dr. Fielding wasted no more time collecting her discarded clothes and returning to her chair to finish the session. She cleared her throat, tried to regain her strong composure, then said with a slight shake in her voice, "Are you still with me, Nina?"

"Yes, Dr. Fielding," Nina replied coolly.

"I want you to forget about the Master," Dr. Fielding said. "Wherever it is in your mind right now, I want you to find it and let it go.”

“Yes, Dr. Fielding.”

“But,” Dr. Fielding continued. “I don’t want you to forget how it made you feel. I want you to remember the uncontrollable lust. Take it, embrace it, let it define you. You’re a young woman, Nina. It’s okay to explore your body. It’s okay to want to suck cock and eat pussy."

"Yes, Dr. Fielding." The validation made the entranced young woman moan.

"Sometimes," Dr. Fielding said. "A woman is just a set of holes that need to be filled. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dr. Fielding. I am just a set of holes that need to be filled."

Dr. Fielding bit her lip before she continued. "I want to meet with you again next week. I want you to tell me all about how you apply this new perspective. You won’t disappoint me."

"I won’t disappoint you, Dr. Fielding."

Nina was still in trance when the session ended. Dr. Fielding called down to her secretary to request a change of clothes for the young woman. Before she let Nina go, she left her with one final direction to forget the content of their session together.

Nina's conscious mind returned to the sound of the office door swinging shut behind her. She didn’t question the new pair of clothes or why she left the session in such high spirits. After all, isn’t therapy about getting your mind right?

As Nina exited the Psychology Department building, she thought about how sometimes she was just a set of holes that needed to be filled. At the bus stop she dialed the number of her chemistry TA.

"Hey, David," she smiled into her phone. Just the sound of his voice made her pussy ache. "I’m sorry for bothering you outside of class. I was just wondering if you’d be interested in meeting me for some tutoring tonight?"

#hypnokink #mind control #brainwashed #hypno story #series: assimilation #oc: sylvia fielding #oc: nina peerman #hive mind

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kinetic-elaboration · 1 month ago

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November 24: The Menu

Decided to watch The Menu in the middle of the night because why not. Nothing could go wrong there. (This isn’t even sarcastic; I am and will be fine other than being up this late.)

I… feel like I have many thoughts and feelings but also no way to put them into words. I did really like it. I thought it was very well made. I really, really liked Ralph Fienes as the Chef, his mixture of utter sadism, cult-leader like charisma, unbearable pretentiousness and narcissism, and true pain and even vulnerability (as in the making the burger scene) that somehow all made sense together to form a coherent and very watchable character. He would be the rewatch element for me, should I ever decide to rewatch it.

I know it’s hard to put genre-straddling films in boxes because they’re pretty much always more one thing than another, but the idea of calling this a black comedy/horror is very strange to me. It had a couple jokes where I laughed out loud, in a snort sort of way (in particular, the yes-man to the critic agreeing with her when she said they were all going to die, and “No student loans? You’re going to die” and I think there was another but I forgot it already), and I suppose the introductory part was “funny” in the sense that the characters were being introduced as SO fucking annoying that I was impatiently awaiting their deaths, but generally I was not laughing. I was not finding this funny. Straight-up horrors should be funnier than this (see my reaction to Longlegs), which isn’t a complaint about the level of humor just my opinion that there was nothing in this that would warrant putting the label ‘comedy’ on it. Even black comedy—I mean I get that there were ‘so outrageous it’s funny’ aspects to it, especially as I went on, but…mmmm.

In general I actually found it incredibly horrific. Maybe it just hit my fears better than some of the other horror I’ve been watching, but really the whole middle part had this unpredictable and claustrophobic feel that just made me feel like I was losing it a little bit. The contrast between the incredible violence and the general acceptance of that violence by the characters. The calm and cult-like devotion of the staff. The smallness of the set. The slow ratcheting up of wrongness, from ‘wow that’s pretentious’ to ‘pretentious and off-putting’ to ‘subtly threatening’ to EXTREMELY VIOLENT. Tyler’s character in particular really sat on either side of the line of unbelievably over the top in his cliché foodie attitude (has the pretentious foodie lifestyle rotted his brain THAT much?) (yes) and evincing an attitude of such extreme wrongness, behaving in such an absolutely bizarre way even versus other characters, that he was frightening. I guess he was the black comedy all along.

There were also parts where I wondered if there was some degree of hypnosis (the clapping) and/or drugging (you must eat for the menu to work) happening, that was the level of psychological torture/horror I felt like I was witnessing.

This horror part, I think in retrospect, reached its peak with Tyler’s death and then started to go downhill at the fight in the Chef’s house. I sort of zoned out a little at that point, and though I don’t think the movie was too long—I think its slow pace allowed for building dread and I wouldn’t want it to rush itself—if I were going to cut it, say bring it down to 90 minutes, it would perhaps be in this section. From that point it was more thriller than horror, and I was primarily invested in seeing how it all turned out. I’d gotten the concept, so there wasn’t any more of that disorienting ‘what the fuck is that next turn’ feeling really left, and the torture was fairly out in the open. Was the last psychological trick, the asking for help that won’t come, really necessary? I mean, I suppose to explain why they all stayed. Emotionally it hit the least hard for me I’d say. And I thought the speech about the burger was a little expository and unsubtle, though I didn’t hate it. I mean in general I would call the film subtle as a horror but unsubtle as a movie with a specific message about foodie culture specifically and wealth/entitlement/service more generally. And it certainly played with some old-school, familiar tropes of locked-door mystery/horrors and retribution on the sinful and so on.

I did like the ending and found it satisfying. And that burger looked really good except for the onions. I laughed at the list of ingredients of the s'mores including ‘staff, guests, restaurant,’ so, yeah, there was another comedic element I guess.

#the year 2024 #2024: fandom thoughts #2024: movies #all hidden because of spoilers #i will say i didn't find it too gross which was a reason i delayed watching #i'm feeling ever more like i'm a weirdo for not finding this funny lol #but also i would have liked it less if i had

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pa-stella · 2 years ago

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11 + 17 forr kuujyu (*'▽'*)

Title: Voluntary Victim Fandom: Hypnosis Mic Pairing: Kuko/Jyushi Prompt: “You, uh… You taste amazing.” Content: Vampire!Jyushi, mentions of blood, Kuko being a crazy brat, a little suggestive.

The sound of fast footsteps resounded in the empty temple as the two young men kept bickering. “K-Kuko-san! Stop with this nonsense already!”

“You are not making any sense, Jyushi!” The monk almost growled, grabbing the other by the wrist. “I’m trying to help you!”

Jyushi refused to look at him and focused on his dear Amanda instead. “You’re just complicating things.”

“I’m just offering a simpler and faster solution.” Kuko explained and opened the sliding door that led to his bedroom.

The visual kei vocalist followed him. He sighed loudly. “You know that I can’t take any… shortcut.”

“I also know that you’re not yourself lately. You’re distracted, weaker and more tired than usual.” The monk sat down on a cushion he had left there that same morning. “You need to drink human blood as soon as possible.”

Jyushi just shook his head. “I promised my parents, my late grandmother… you and Hitoya-san that I would never bite a human!”

At those words, Kuko rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you gave me your word, but I’m your master and I’m saying you should follow your nature for once!”

“Thieving mortals of their vital lymph betrays what…”

“Oh, shut it!” He interrupted the dramatic speech and groaned. “It’s not stealing: I’m offering it to you! Just take it!”

The monk pulled the black robe a little to expose his neck. The action did not go unnoticed by Jyushi, who clearly swallowed before looking away.

“No, no. I can’t…” He whispered as he hugged Amanda tighter.

“Ok. I won’t insist anymore.”

Surprised by the sudden change, Jyushi tilted his head. “You… won’t?”

“Yeah, I understand when a cause is lost.” Kuko got up slowly and smiled in a way that made the vampire shiver. “But accidents can always happen, you know.”

“A-accidents?”

Kuko nodded, his smile turned into a grin. “My teeth are pretty sharp…”

“What…”

Before Jyushi could finish his question, Kuko bit down on his own lip, harder and harder. A few seconds later, he could taste the known metallic flavor of blood. He didn’t have the time to provoke Jyushi even more as he had planned. When he tried to open his mouth, the vampire was already covering it with his own.

It wasn’t a kiss. It definitely wasn’t a kiss. But Jyushi was sucking and licking his wounded lip as if his life depended on it and all of a sudden Kuko understood why people were always horny in all those movies about vampires he had seen.

The contact disappeared too soon for Kuko’s taste and tried his best to hide his dismay. Jyushi moved away in a slow movement. His eyes were closed and he was pressing his own hand against his mouth. His face looked less pale than before.

“You… uh… you taste amazing…” He commented in a whisper.

“And you already look better!” Kuko replied, breaking the spell Jyushi was under.

The vampire’s eyes snapped open and he stared at his master in both shock and fear. “Oh… what… what have I done…”

“You did the right thing!” The monk chuckled.

“You don’t understand!” Jyushi took a few more steps back. Trembling, he picked up Amanda (he had dropped her during their kiss) and murmured some apologies. If he was apologizing to Kuko or the cute plushie, it wasn’t clear.

“Jyushi…”

“You don’t understand. I… I swore to never bite humans…”

“It wasn’t even a bite!” Kuko sighed and crossed his arms. “You just took a sip, if anything!”

“This is not a joke, Kuko-san!” Jyushi protested. “Now… every time we’ll see each other, I’ll think about your taste. When I’ll be by myself, I’ll think about you. This is a disaster…”

The monk scratched his neck. He wouldn’t use that word to describe the situation the vampire was panicking about. “Well, you’ll have to focus on your self control more.”

“This is not only about self control.” Jyushi almost pouted and hugged Amanda. “I’ll forever be thirsty for your blood from now on. I… I need to find a solution.”

Before Kuko could reply he wouldn't be the only one fighting some kind of thirst, Jyushi ran out of the door and all he could do was sit down on the cushion again.

#kuujyu #jyushi aimono #hypnosis mic #kuko harai #vampire au #i know nothing about vampires #writing? in this economy?#this is inspired by the fact i bite my lip and make it bleed every single day

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ariswolfram · 4 months ago

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Tlahulia-Coatl

I decided to do a nice lil' lore drop for a species I made which I like. I hope I got everything down properly. If you want me to put extra description onto something, or notice any spelling errors, then don't be afraid to tell me so I can fix it up!

Appearance

The Tlahulia-Coatl (often just called "Coatl's") are an anthropomorphic species of constrictor snakes, often seen as the "Greater form" on their home planet. Their main body's scales range in a variety of darker-toned colors, like onyx black, obsidian purple, grey, and dark gray-blue. Some Coatl's have one set of arms and legs, while others may just have a set of arms. Rarely, a Coatl can have two sets of arms (Though that is barely ever seen). One thing every Coatl has, is a snake hood, which display their ✨absolutely fabulous✨ color patterns on both the front and back of them. (Defined below)

When standing, they can range from 6' (182 cm) to 7' 6" (228 cm); Their massive tails on the other hand vastly range in size depending on the person. Going from 12' (3.65 m) long, up to 40' (12.19 m) long! Though the size of their tail completely depends on the ritual done (Defined later), and how well fed the Coatl is.

Running down their backs, along the top of their arms, and across their hood, is a beautiful array of various patterns and colors. These patterns are different from Coatl to Coatl, and can range from floral, swirly, and angular., to completely abstract and otherworldly in complexity.

Among the colors and shapes in their pattern, one of them will be the most dominant. This pattern/color will have a vibrant, bio-luminous glow to it, and will also define the kind of venom the Tlahulia-Coatl has access to. Though sometimes (Rarely), these colors can be misleading, hiding the Coatl's true venom through a guise of a more common color.

Colors like Green (Acidic), Yellow (Paralyzing Agent), and Red (Potent Poison) are by far the most common of the venoms. More uncommon colors like Blue (A hallucinogen), Orange (Sleep Inducer), and Pink (Hypnosis/Charming) can happen naturally, but mostly happen through rituals. The more rare colors, being Mint Green (Polymorphic), Black (Confusion/"Soul Shift"), Purple (Insanity/Madness Inducer), and White (Petrification) can only happen through use of rituals. And as a result, make the ritual much longer and much more painful.

Language

The Coatl's language (Called "Xzeaɸl"; "ɸ" is a softer sounding F, as they cant exactly press their teeth to their lips in a sane manner as to make an F sound sharp) consists of a variety of sharp sounds, hisses, and low growls, which they mix together to form short words. Because of the way their words are constructed, each sentence is spoken in a slower manner to make understanding it easier, though this is more seen as a "Proper speech etiquette" than anything. Coatl's can speak rapidly if they so wish, though they normally reserve such things for when they are angry, or around people they like.

Another thing on speech etiquette, is if a Coatl speaks too slow. Doing so is seen as rude and uninviting. (When i say "too slow" here, i mean it. Imagine if someone spend a whole minute pronouncing a single word... That's what i mean.) Coatl's often do this to spite others.

Tlahulia-Coatls have a very hard time pronounce L's, and other sounds that require complex tongue movements. As a result, they pronounce their own species' name as /Tia-huia-Coat-eis/.

Fact no one wanted: The Xzeaɸl language has around 4,790 different swear words, not including combinations...

Religion

Tlahulia-Coatls follow a religion they call Khalsan/Khalsanism/Khalsanic. (Yes, i just said they cant pronounce L's, but its named this way for a reason, as the Coatls were originally a Humanoid species called "Alvari"... Plus, the Coatls pronounce it more like /Khae-saan/, anyways)

Their religion is highly complex, and based around making more people into Coatl's through a long (and painful) ritual as a rite of passage.

When the religion first started, the Alvari choose–instead of following any of the actual and literal Deities of the Hyperion Astra–to follow a Deity that doesn't fucking exist. His name is Xhaviel, and is depicted through stories and past scripture as being a complete badass. In reality, the reason this very-not-real god exists is because of Null, the god of Chaos.

Null pulled a fucked up prank on the Alvari one day cause he was bored, and told them, "You will become kick-ass snakes if you do this ritual. I, Xhaviel, made sure it would work just for you," effectively saying they would be blessed if they did it.

The Alvari–being the idiots they were–believed him, cause why would you deny god's word? The first several attempts resulted in many dead bodies. This was because the ritual wasn't an actual thing... From what Null knew. After about 50 attempts though, the Alvari somehow made the ritual work, and they became the Tlahulia-Coatls of today! (Woooooo-)

In present days, the ritual has been expended upon to allow those who wish to do it the ability to (Vaguely) decide how their form looks. Adding various herbs, spices, and foods to it in order to change the pattern, color, and overall shape of the Coatl they are to become.

The more things that are added to it though, the more painful the ritual gets, and the longer it takes to complete. Normally though, this ritual takes no more than a few hours...

The Khalsanic belief follows several gods in the Hyperion Astra, being:

The God of Coatls: Xhaviel (Who in reality is Null, but everyone ignores that fact out of spite. Even today when its well-known.)

The Goddess of Cuisine: Culara (Who is, in fact, the actual Coatl god.)

Goddess of Recovery and Health: Salus (She is just a large ass moth.)

God of Corruption and Forbidden Knowledge: Covenant (So they can actually preform the ritual...)

And, the God of Transformation and Change: Evo (Once again, for the ritual... Also because he is a snake as well.)

Culture and Society

The Coatl's society heavily revolves around cooking, baking, and other food-creating forms. All Coatl's are able to cook, and can cook so well it's basically threatening. Their cooking culture is so heavy, they often see it as a normal thing to cook so damn much, and to cook as well as they do. When in reality it isn't...

Coatls, being made from rituals originally, have a hard time with reproduction. As a result, their egg clutch is very small. Ranging from 1-3 eggs in a clutch, with only 1 out of every 6 hatching. It is also very difficult for them to get that far in the first place, as often times it doesn't really work out for them. As a result of this, The Coatl's will protect their eggs with their lives at any cost. Keeping the eggs home in comfortable nests, while watching over them is common. It doesn't matter who is the one protecting the eggs, one of the parents must be there to protect them.

Coatls, as a result of the above, are highly protective of anyone and anything they love. Especially if they have a close bond with said people.

Because of the low eg count, they are less likely to abandon their children or put them up for adoption. Though, they will put eg's up for adoption if the parents are dead, or the eg's aren't being properly taken care of. Same goes for children.

Much like Kasrena, if a Tlahulia-Coatl spots an unsupervised child walking in public with no visible parental figures around them... They will just... Take them in, and take care of them. They do this so often, it has become a problem with the other factions in the Hyperion, often leading to legal action. Their response? "You're own damn fault for leaving them alone, unsupervised, in the middle of the street. What else am i supposed to do? Leave them to die?"

Faction

The Tlahulia-Coatls live among a Faction called the "Coatl Consensus", which is a conglomerate of the various Coatl tribes found on their homeworld, 'Fashkost Delta', and their many colony worlds.

These tribes meet together often to discuss the Faction as a whole, and to make sure the Faction's Supervisor (Effectively the person who speaks for the faction as a whole) is acting appropriately.

The Coatl Consensus deals a lot with the import and export of baking goods, along with selling the services of the cooks and chefs in the Consensus. One of their most expensive exports, Sacrem, is what gets them the most money out of everything.

The Coatl Consensus was officially founded on the year 789 P. D. (Post-Divergence), and officially recognized as a faction in the year 833 P. D.

The current Supervisor for the faction is a man called "Sarim den Firiam", who deals with any issues revolving around the faction.

#lore #lore drop #oc lore #singural hyperion #story #lore dump #infodump #monster #monster fucker #world building

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blackwoolncrown · 3 years ago

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Help an (ex???) S*x Worker

So, given that we got largely banned from this platform despite being very cool and smart, I’m not sure how many ppl know about what’s going on in the digital adult industry...

To be concise, every now and then credit card companies apply regulations to what can be sold via adult sites, often affecting what terms we can use. Usually this is generally a good thing as it limits the sale of problematic content- there’s more to say on this but I won’t bother here.

Anyway, Mastercard recently made some changes that also included how models/artists IDs are verified along with term requirements, and requirements on how the sites verify the content complies- the content now must be manually watched (albeit by AI) to make sure it is compliant.

This is industry wide, and has applied to every clip site, as well as slowed down the time from uploading to publish, but on one of these sites- arguably one of the 2 biggest, if not THE most high-traffic site- seems to be absolutely and catastrophically fumbling this transition.

Currently, their compliance efforts began around the 2nd week of October and since then I and many others on the site have not been able to make a single sale because our stores have been pulled entirely offline.

Why? Well, IWC has to put all content ‘In Review’ and either approve it and publish it again, or send it back to the artist to be corrected. When content is ‘In Review’ it is not published, and stores with under 5 published clips do not show up to buyers.

My stores have been offline now for about 3 weeks, and IWC says this issue will take ‘a few weeks’ to start resolving.

I do not currently make content as I left that in exchange for building other income streams and improving my life/mental health but that has largely only been possible due to the passive income I get from clip sales and a good ~80% or so of that was coming from IWC. Given that this could take up to a month or two more to resolve and it has already been happening, the financial fallout from this will be long and ‘considerably fucked’ to say the least.

Many of us are pretty badly screwed. I’m being optimistic and light with my speech here but please understand: this is pretty serious.

If you’re familiar with my blog you may know about all the work I’ve been doing to create a sustainable income for myself that works with my needs, and this sudden change is a hard blow at an extremely inopportune time after 2 years of this pandemic which has devoured my savings and left me in a tough position.

In the short term I am asking anyone who can comfortably do so to donate so that I can afford to live through this. Additionally, after Jan 1 2022 I probably won’t be able to as easily take donations due to the IRS changes. But here are my links:

p*yp*l.me/ellipsislux v**mo: awingedserpent c*sh**p: $moonseye

In the long term it would be very helpful if you could support my work/businesses:

Patreon to support me, my organizational work, ASMR, my recipes and writing as well as meditational videos

Onlyfans for QTBIPOC audiences where I post full meditations, pictures, and talk cultural/spiritual/sensual subjects

awingedserpent shop for intentional/cultural jewelry (like waist beads, earrings, bracelets and more)

and you can email me at iamthatwhich(at)gmail(dot)com to book live tarot, guided meditation, spiritual consultation and relaxational hypnosis sessions- see my site for more info.

Thanks for reading and have a peaceful week <3

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jovialjuggernaut-draws · 2 years ago

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RiddleBat Week Day 3: Unexpected Teamup/Hands

Edward had unusually dexterous hands.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, really, what with the ease with which he picked locks, the sorts of fine precision work his gadgets must require, that thing he could do with handcuffs…

Still, though, Bruce found himself startled by it, having to remind himself not to stare at Edward's hands as he worked. It didn't help that the incessant chatter Edward kept up while they were in any sort of proximity hadn't faltered simply because they were on the same side suddenly, making Bruce's attention on the topic at hand begin to wane.

The topic at hand, of course, having nothing to do with Edward's damned hands.

"...distracted, Detective?" Edward was saying, an amused twist to his painted lips.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Bruce accused, as though he wasn't right.

"I'm offended. Here I am, trying oh so hard to keep you alive, and you won't even do me the courtesy of listening when I speak. Now what, exactly…" Edward's hands slid across the tabletop, his long, pale fingers brushing the surface elegantly, until their progress was stopped by Bruce's proximity. He did an odd little dance with them, tapping out a rhythm right next to Bruce's arm, not quite touching but giving a little tease that he might- "...could be distracting you?"

With a start, Bruce realized he'd been found out, falling prey again to the strange hypnosis those hands had on his psyche. "I wonder. It certainly couldn't be the team of your Arkham cellmates that have been ruthlessly chasing me down, no. It would be impossible for me to be stressed about that."

"I suppose, then, it also couldn't possibly be the villain whose lair you've found your safety in, either, hmm?" Edward taunted, his hands returning to their previous work dismantling Joker's latest deadly punchline.

"Of course not," Bruce agreed, equally sarcastically.

"I mean… if it were that… you wouldn't be letting your guard down so much, now, would you?"

"Watching your hands isn't exactly letting my guard down," Bruce pointed out. "I'm keeping my eye on their every move."

"So, you admit it's my hands you're watching," Edward laughed.

Bruce realized his mistake too late. "Why wouldn't I be?" He tried to play it off. "Anything you try to do to me, you'll broadcast via your hands, first."

"Will I, now?" Edward adjusted his weight, stepping to circle around the table to get to the other end of the orange and purple hose still oozing caustic liquid-

The slight hiss of hydraulics was Bruce's only warning before the restraints closed around him, securing his ankles to the floor and his arms to his sides.

"You were saying?"

Bruce struggled, finding his brute strength no match for the thick bands of metal now locked around him. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

Edward rolled his eyes, pacing across the room to pout, hip cocked, just in front of the captured Bat. "Hardly. I do genuinely want to help you out. A game's no fun with impossible odds, so I'm evening the playing field. This is merely to point out how foolish you're being."

Speech made, Edward's posture relaxed, his gaze sweeping up Bruce's form, considering. His fingers tapped against his arms where they crossed one another, before he unfolded them, movements slow and well-broadcasted, to walk those same fingers up Bruce's torso.

"So, Detective… what is it about my hands you find so distracting?"

Bruce couldn't answer, mouth gone dry. He couldn't be getting at… what I think he's getting at. Could he?

"What is it you're thinking of while you watch them, that's taking your mind so far from the very critical work we're doing here?"

"Nothing," Bruce managed to croak out. Edward's hands had paused against his chest, long fingers stretching across the bat-shaped symbol marking his heart, and he desperately wished his own words were true. "I'm not thinking of anything."

"Hmm." Edward tilted his head curiously, that curtain of dark hair sweeping out over his shoulder. "A pure meditative state, then? Fascinating… if I believed you, of course."

Those hands continued on their way, brushing teasingly up the sides of his neck, to pause at the edges of the cowl. Bruce panicked, for a moment, thinking Edward would simply remove it, reluctant though he'd been to do so in the past-

But then Edward was tugging him in for a slow, languid kiss, seeming far less surprised than Bruce himself was by the readiness with which it was reciprocated.

"Perhaps, Dark Knight, we will put my hands to good use later. When you're out of mortal danger. Hmm?"

And Bruce couldn't argue with a proposal like that.

#ugh tumblr desktop changed and now its obnoxious to move things over from googledocs #the italics are important!#riddlebat #batriddler #riddlebatweek22 #batman 2004

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vampoccult · 3 years ago

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Control || ada mesmer x reader

````````This fanfic will probably have multiple parts. I'm thinking at least 2. I'll post the update later on. There are NSFW mentions here and there. Next part will mostly be NSFW. MINOR MADE'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

----------

She smelled like soft vanilla. A fragrance that simply could not be bought from a store. No, it was a natural scent that only seemed to come off of women that were always in control, always dominant.

You noticed the way she looked at you, far before she began to take action. You saw how she always seemed to stare. She looked like she wanted to be in control of your mind, your body.

You don’t think that you’d mind it, actually. Maybe it’d be good to let go.

But this was a job. Getting into relationships was the last thing on your mind. You had to keep focus for your family, for your livelihood.

One-night stands would do nothing but detriment that.

—----

She had cloudy dark blue eyes. They often seemed lost in thought, aside from the times it was something that she was interested in. Then, the cloudiness seemed to disappear completely. They even seemed to shine, just like the dark sky bright with moonlight. Whenever she was studying or conducting experiments about hypnosis, they would shine. Whenever she was around those she found interesting, they would shine.

Unfortunately (Fortunately? You don’t know the answer), they would shine around you, too.

You were her lab partner, assisting in her labs to the best of your ability. You tried staying focused, but you found her so, so distracting. How could a woman be so pretty? So beautiful. Her hair would probably be so soft to put your hands through…

Stay focused, you told yourself. It was difficult, though. You hated to admit it, but she seemed to already be in control before you had begun to notice.

Her eyes, oh how they sparkled. How could eyes that seemed so dark shine so brightly? The way she would smile at you. A soft look, something you’d never see when she was concentrating. It made you want to melt into her arms and thank her for the experience. She often spoke to you quietly, with a little hint of something domineering. Something that showed that she knew she was above her. You knew long before that she was the type, yet you couldn’t find the feeling to hate her.

Her hands were so soft. It felt like she had done nothing hard at work, but you had seen the things she had done for experiments, for the pursuit of knowledge. It made no sense how her hands turned out like that, but nothing Ada did made sense. Maybe it did in her mind, and soon it would in yours as well. She would often touch you, to signal her appearance. A light touch to your shoulder, or maybe a gentle push. Her love language was likely touch, but you could also counter with that maybe it was speech.

She never ceased to compliment you. Constantly insisting that it was needed, for you were too “sweet and pretty” to not be called out on it. A light giggle would often follow the compliment, which made you heat up. You would try your best to compliment back, as a way of thanks, but she would say that there was no need.

A light smile feathered over her face.

“It’s like being complimented by a Goddess. I can’t allow you to do that when you’re already so magnificent, now can I?”

It felt like time had stopped. You had never heated up so badly in your life. It felt like your entire body was on fire. She laughed at the sight, and you couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at yourself too.

The way she said it, with the way she looked, had yet to leave your mind.

She was already in control of your mind, it seems. You didn’t have the mind to care. —--

Her hands truly felt like fire with the way they spread across your body. It almost seemed like she had already mapped it out, with the way her hands slid through the curves. Maybe she really had mapped it out; as she was always staring.

Your mind felt like it had slowed down considerably, almost as if it were in a haze. You couldn’t think nearly as clearly as you could before. The only thought you had was Ada, Ada, Ada.

She had taken over your mind completely, as least for this period of time.

You knew it was too late when she had pressed her body up to yours, a sly smile on her lips. Her warm breath that smells like fresh mint had your mind clouding up before you could even ask what she was doing. Her dark blue eyes were so clear, just like the ocean during midnight. Her hands had drifted to your waist, holding you in place. She put her face near your ear, and for the first time since she started, you began to hear clearly.

“Ahh, you smell so good. New perfume?”, she said.

You felt yourself stuttering out a response, “Oh, n-no. No new perfume.” You couldn’t help but avert your eyes from her. You couldn’t help but think that if you did, you’d be stuck in her grasp for eternity.

She was almost similar to a siren, you thought. With the way her voice had you following.

You could hear her giggle softly, a cute sound you wouldn’t mind listening to. “I can’t help but find you amusing,” she started, her hands beginning to wander. “You’re awfully adorable. You wouldn’t mind it if I had you all to myself, would you?” Her body felt incredibly hot against yours.

You shook your head, a no being seen forming on your lips. Ada pressed her head into your neck, and her body shook slightly with laughter.

“I knew it would be easy… I think I’m going to have fun with you.” You could feel the smile on her lips.

The night would be long, you wondered.

#idv #idv ada #fanfic #idv x reader #ada mesmer #ada mesmer x reader #ill continue this later el oh el #next part coming soon #next part also has smut lmfao #this is short as shit #damn

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illfoandillfie · 3 years ago

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Kinktober Day 1: Rimming

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,560

Warnings: Rimming, anal sex, some vaginal fingering, himbo Ben (mild unintentional hypnosis I guess)

A/N: Welcome to Kinktober! This is actually an idea i’ve been thinking about for quite a while. We’ve done himbo Rog and himbo Gwil so it only seemed fair to do himbo Ben and since he’s obviously an ass man......only made sense that he’d be into anal lmao. It seemed like the perfect fit for the first of these prompts. But this is the first time I’ve written (or even really thought about) rimming so I hope it’s okay!

“Geeze Ben, could you maybe close your porn next time. Didn’t really expect to see that autoplay when I woke the computer up this morning,” Ben snorted into his plate of eggs, “Which one was it?” “Something called Anal Punisher 3.” “Don’t know what you’re complaining about, that’s a good one.” His eyes twinkled teasingly and he poked his tongue out as you sat in front of your own plate. “I’m sure it is.” You chuckled, able to see the funny side now that you weren’t staring directly at close up of a porn stars arsehole, “Just not when I’m trying to check my emails on our shared desktop.” “As if you’ve never had a cheeky wank at that computer.” “That’s what I have a laptop for,” You laughed again, shaking your head. “Alright, fair play. I only left it up cause you got home early last night and I had to, um, clean up.” You rolled your eyes at the flimsy excuse. “And if you don’t want me watching Anal Punisher 3 then maybe you should let me punish your anal....arse....fuck, you know what I mean.” It was your turn to snort into your breakfast, Ben’s clumsy attempt at seduction nearly making you inhale the scrambled eggs. When you finally got yourself under control you said, “I don’t care if you watch it, just shut it down when you’re finished.” “Sorry love,” “But y’know, if you did want to anal arse fuck me tonight I wouldn’t say no.” Ben’s eyes lit up in excitement. He’d either not heard the joke you’d made at his expense or decided it wasn’t worth bringing up if the possibility of anal was on the table, “Serious?” “Serious. I’ll even put my plug in when I get dressed so we don’t have to spend as much time on foreplay.” “If I hadn’t already married you, I’d propose on the spot.”

But by the time Ben got home he seemed more interested in just cuddling on the couch. You’d done as you said you would and worn your plug all day, constantly thinking about what would happen later that night. Right up until Ben stepped inside yawning, when you snuck off to the bathroom to remove it, realising your plans were unlikely to go ahead. You’d half expected him to fall asleep on the couch after dinner but evidently, some part of him still wanted you. He tapped his thigh and beckoned you towards him, pulling you down so he could hold you close and kiss your shoulder. Soon enough that cuddling had turned to making out, you straddling his lap as you kissed him deeply, his large hands pulling you into him, stroking whatever bare skin he could find. Without thinking you dragged your fingers through his hair. He hummed in response so you did it again, your fingers creating small, firm circles against his scalp, drawing random patterns there as you focused on keeping your lips on his and your tongues entwined. Ben made soft pleased sounds as your fingers kept up their movement, almost moaning at the sensation. You could feel him getting harder under you as you carefully rocked your hips. “Benny?” “Huh?” His hands had begun to roam more, moving down to your arse, grabbing and squeezing as he pulled you against him. “Kinda got me excited here honey. Might wanna stop if you’re too tired to carry through,” “What?” He seemed nearly dazed, not properly comprehending what you were saying. You shifted your hand to his chest, drawing small circles with your finger, “I mean I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day anyway.” “Think?” “Exactly, thinking about our conversation this morning. Remember? Anal Punisher 3?” “Anal?” It was still a question but there was a tone of excitement behind the dopey confusion. “You said you wanted to.... I kinda really want you to.” “Mmmm,” “I mean I get it if you’re too tired,” you said softly, stroking your palms over his biceps, “but I’m up for it now if you are. So, do you still want to?” “Mmhmm,” but as keen as he sounded, Ben didn’t seem inclined to move to the bedroom or even to begin to undress you. He was too caught up in feeling you up and trying to kiss you again. “Don’t you want me Benny?” He was slow to react, eyes still shut as he nodded, speech flowing like treacle “Want - you.” “You can have me.” You had to lean back to stop him from kissing you again. As much as you liked making out, you were getting eager for more and wanted to know where he was at. He nodded again, not seeming to hear you, and then, when he couldn’t immediately locate your lips again, opened his eyes. It reminded you of the time a few friends had dragged you and Ben to a hypnotists show. None of your group had been pulled on stage to experience the hypnotic powers the man claimed to have, but those who had been had all worn similar expressions to Ben. Eyes heavy lidded and almost glazed over and when they’d gone back to their seats you’d noticed that they seemed a bit dazed and confused. You’d not seen Ben look like that before. Well, maybe a bit dazed after you gave him a proper good blow job, but nothing to this extent. Not even when you edged him repeatedly. He tended to get whiny and loud rather than glassy eyed and dopey. Usually more talkative too, begging or moaning your name. This was something new.

Curiously, you stoked his hair back off his face and asked him how he felt, tugging lightly on the ends that reached the back of his neck. “Good,” he sighed softly, “Kiss?” You couldn’t deny him that when he’d asked so cutely, so you leaned in to kiss him again, letting him draw you in deeply for a moment. When the chance arose you let your lips slip from his, kissing along his jaw until you reached his ear, “What else do you want?” Ben hummed softly and then said, “Arse.” It was unusual for Ben to be so monosyllabic. Even when he was super horny and desperate for you, he could generally get most of a coherent sentence out. Nothing that would win any literary awards of course, but enough so you knew what he meant. “What do you mean Benny?” “Ummm....arse.....cock.” It sounded like it had been a struggle for him to even think of the two words he wanted but you couldn’t help but giggle, “Does that mean you want to fuck me?” “Yeah,” “Okay baby. But you have to do everything I say, understand?” Ben nodded. “Can you do what I say Benny? Be a good boy and follow my instructions?” He nodded again, “Yes. Please.” You kissed him once more, trying not to laugh too much, and then scooted off his lap. Ben whined as soon as the physical contact was broken. “If you want my arse we gotta move to the bedroom,” He frowned as if he didn’t quite understand but let you take his hand all the same and followed you to the bedroom.

Ben’s hands began to wander again when you stopped to open your bedroom door, grasping your hips and then dropping lower to rest against your behind. It was hard to ignore the tingle the light contact sent through you but you bit down on your rising need as you turned and grasped Ben’s hands, “Gotta wait for that Benny. Just a little longer.” You stepped back towards the bed and Ben smiled dopily as you pulled him along. “I mean I’m ready but not all the way. But if you help get me lubed up you can fuck my arse for as long as you want.” It was like a light turned on inside Ben’s mind. His eyes still had that unfocused look but they were wider and he was nodding enthusiastically. “You gonna undress me or should I start for you?” You laughed and when he didn’t immediately move you began pulling your shirt off over your head, too eager to wait. You reached behind you to unclasp your bra, “C’mon Benny. Help me out.” Ben blinked twice before he seemed to understand but was soon offering his help, pulling the bra from your arms, gently cupping your breasts as he revealed them, thumbs falling into a familiar rhythm rubbing back and forth over your nipples. Still moving slowly, Ben leaned in and kissed your throat, humming in response as you pressed your chest into his hands and sighed contentedly. But he clearly had something else on his mind because soon enough his hands fell, fingers picking at the waistband of your leggings. Indulging him you quickly shed your pants, turning so he could see the thing he really wanted as you stripped off the final layer of clothing. Ben watched intently as you wiggled your hips teasingly and eked the waistband of your knickers down a few inches. And then something changed.

You felt it in the air, a shift in energy, but even that wasn’t enough to prepare you as Ben growled and lunged forward, his hands tight on your waist as he lifted you onto the bed, barely giving you time to settle on your hands and knees before he dived in behind you. All you could manage was to gasp his name as he rushed to tear your underpants down your thighs. But your surprise at his sudden movement doubled as he spread your cheeks and buried his face between them. He’d licked you like that once or twice but only when he’d been eating your pussy and teasingly snuck his tongue elsewhere as you tried to recover from your orgasm. This was entirely different.

It felt similar to the vaguely tickly sensation he made you feel when he was helping you relax before a round of anal, when he would tease you with light strokes from his fingers until you were shivering and wanting more. But there was more heat to it. His breath hot and his tongue wet as he traced your hole. You felt like you’d been completely lit up from within, like he’d suddenly discovered a hundred more nerve endings than he usually hit. And adding to all the physical sensations of Ben’s fingers holding you open and his mouth exploring your darkest nooks, was the feeling of doing something properly filthy. You’d felt the same when you and Ben first tried anal, completely depraved at enjoying something so taboo. That feeling had lessened as you did it more, your enjoyment then stemming from Ben’s improved skills more than the act itself. But with your head against the sheets and your arse in the air you remembered why you’d liked feeling so downright dirty. It only heightened your desire and made every caress of Ben’s tongue sweeter.

Of course, best of all was just how into Ben was. You wondered how he could possibly be breathing when every second seemed to be taken up with moans and groans as he feasted on you. The noises started softly as he tantalized you with hard licks against your arsehole and the surrounding area. But as his tongue explored deeper, as he pressed into you, making your arse feel slick and hot with his drool and making your pussy throb, he got louder. He seemed to enjoy you more and more, as if he’d never eaten anything as satisfying in his life. That was enough to have you shaking. You were already wet from grinding against him on the couch but the ways he was touching you and how thoroughly he was enjoying it had you positively soaked. “Finger me Benny,” you gasped, trying to maintain some of the control you’d intended to have. Ben did as you asked, never able to deny you what you craved, but it wasn’t up to his usual standard. His fingers weren’t as deft as normal, moving awkwardly and out of time. It was as if his fingers were trying to work off of muscle memory alone, his mind too consumed with something else to take any notice of your cunt. With a needy whine you clumsily disentangled one fist from the sheets and batted Ben’s hand out of the way, replacing it with your own. Ben didn’t make any indication that he’d noticed you start touching yourself, except to tighten his grip on your arse, holding you firmly as you began to writhe against your fingers. He happily went back to gripping a cheek in each hand, pulling them wide to give himself better access to your arsehole. It seemed that wearing your plug had been a good idea because Ben found it easy to press his tongue into you, licking around and making your muscles tighten before withdrawing and sinking in again. And that stimulation plus your own fingers in your cunt made you moan wantonly into the bedding. Ben answered with his own long, loud moan of desire, sending a shiver along your spine. It was enough to tip you over the edge, your fingers massaging a spot within you as Ben rapidly tongued your hole.

You rode out your high before letting your fingers slip back to tangle in the sheets once more, but Ben showed no signs of stopping. He might very well have kept up the intoxicating performance all night if you hadn’t whined his name. Even that wasn’t enough to make him stop entirely, just slow down and hum. “Ben? Benny?” you gasped, as he readjusted his grip on you, “You gonna fuck me or what?” Ben groaned as if he didn’t want to stop tasting you but wanted to move on to other things as well. And you were on the verge of instructing him to get the lube when you felt his fingers. He reached under you, two digits carefully tracing along your cunt, sliding through the creamy evidence of your earlier orgasm. He didn’t break contact, his fingers just as softly sliding along your crack and up to your arsehole. And then they were pushing against the ring of muscle. Usually he’d take his time applying lube but he seemed too lost in the moment to remember it. You didn’t mind too much though. Lube might have made it a touch more comfortable but wearing the plug had helped loosen you up and Ben had thoroughly coated everything with his saliva and your own cum. His fingers breached you moderately easily, making you shiver and whine at the feeling of being filled again. “God it’s a good thing we do this a lot,” you half sighed, half laughed into the sheets, as Ben’s fingers sank another inch into you. Ben’s only response was to lean forward and lick around where his fingers were penetrating you, humming happily as he did so.

Ben seemed inclined to spend just as long fingering you as he did licking you, but the way his fingers moved inside you quickly had you worked up and eager for more. “God Ben. You’re hard right?” Ben only pumped his fingers into you faster but you took it as a yes. "So fuck me already. Please Benny,” It came out whinier than you’d expected so you cleared your throat and tried a proper demand, “I need your cock in my arse now Ben.” You weren’t sure it would be enough to get Ben’s attention. He seemed too engrossed in fingering you to even hear what you were saying. But thankfully, something broke through his blinders. Suddenly, his fingers disappeared. It was followed by the sound of his pants coming down and then you felt the head of his cock against your back entrance. “Wait,” You gasped, “Wait. Lube.” Ben repeated the word lube in a grunt, shifting hips slightly so he could run his shaft along your soaked cunt. You felt him between your lips, as if he were teasing you, sliding back and forth, coating his length in your juices. A moment later, he returned to your other hole, his hands on your hips to pull your arse back onto him. Ben let out a satisfied groan as he sank into you but you were panting roughly, almost seeing stars with how good it felt to finally be filled the way you wanted to be. Once or twice your breath hitched, the discomfort of his size pushing into you exacerbated by the lack of proper lube. But it wasn’t enough to truly bother, certainly not enough to stop. The fact that just seeing your arse had made Ben snap into an animalistic, almost feral demeanour had made you impossibly horny. And you were desperate for him to fuck you properly now he was fully sheathed in your arsehole’s tight embrace. Ben moaned at the feeling, vocalising your own desire. And then he said something. “What was that Benny?” you asked, unable to comprehend him. “Fuck....arse......hngggg.....arse.....” he said though you were sure you were missing something. But as nonsensical as it was it was still hot. Knowing Ben was so desperate for this, for you, knowing you could make him babble incomprehensibly. It was insanely hot. And then he began to fuck you. You whined and brought your hand to your pussy again, finding your clit, though Ben’s frantic thrusts made it hard to keep the contact consistent.

You screamed when you came, voice tearing out of your throat as Ben roughly pounded into you, his hips almost bruising hard against your arse. It was nearly impossible for you to breathe under so much pleasure and you panted for air as the orgasm subsided. But Ben was still going, still thrusting into you furiously, grunting with the effort as he neared his own release. You gasped his name and told him to cum, trying to not get swept away by the feeling of his cock moving inside you, wanted him to keep going almost as much as you wanted to feel his semen warm you from the inside out, and drip out of you. Your request was enough to make him shudder to a halt, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he released himself with a groan. He thrust a few more times and your limbs gave out. You felt them wobble and then collapse under you, Ben’s body pressing you into the mattress as he sank down too, still trying to fuck you.

It took you saying his name twice before he stopped though he made a reluctant sort of a sound when he realised he had to pull out. “Well if you didn’t fuck me so well you probably could have gone on a bit longer,” you laughed as he, somewhat grudgingly, pushed himself to his feet. With a satisfied groan you rolled over and stretched your arm out to grab Ben’s hand so you could pull him onto the bed too. He lay on his front, sighing as his head fell into the crook of your neck, his body resting almost entirely over yours. You were half being crushed by his weight but you enjoyed it. It was comforting and warm and you softly drew your hands over his back as you caught your breath properly. Ben was quiet as he lay there until, some ten minutes later, he suddenly pushed himself to his knees, blinking at you. His eyes still had a vaguely unfocused appearance but the more he blinked the more normal he seemed. “Are you okay?” He asked slowly. You laughed and nodded, “More than okay. Lie back down, I’m too tired to sit up.” He compiled with your request, lowering himself again but this time on his back, “I have no idea what just came over me, babe.” With a sigh you shifted to your side, propping your head up on one hand, “What do you mean?” “All I know is I saw your arse and just needed it, more than anything else, more than air, I just wanted you.” “Gotta admit, it was a little unexpected,” you lay your palm on Ben’s chest, his skin still flushed and warm to the touch, “But ummmm, definitely didn’t hate it.” His hand landed gently on top of yours, holding you against his heart, “Did I use any lube at all?” “Only spit and my cum.” “Fucking hell. Are you sure you’re okay?” “It’s fine Benny. If I’d needed anything else I would have made you stop. If I’m honest....kind of made it hotter.” “Babe!” “Not in a weird way! I’m not going to let you get away without lube all the time.” You laughed, “Just knowing you wanted me so badly was nice.” “I always want you badly.” You patted Ben’s chest softly, your heart fluttering, “Does that mean you’d want to eat my arse again another time?” “You liked it?” “Well you were very thorough.” Ben groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes which just made you laugh again. “I did enjoy it,” you said softly, deciding to put him out of his misery, “Wasn’t necessarily expecting it but it felt really good.” “Well that’s something. I still don’t understand what just happened though.” “What’s that saying...Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut #kinktober 2021

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megurodivision · 3 years ago

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"You can't live a positive life with a negative mind."

Introduction

Yeong "Cain" Hajoon is the third and final member of the Meguro Division rap battle group, DOG STREET CLUB. He is often called by his MC name, 9-Dan. The former heir to the prestigious Cain family of Korea, Yeong abandoned both his family and name to live a life of freedom. Despite his easygoing and flirtatious attitude, this world-renowned model and dance instructor has more than his fair share of secrets.

Yeong is an attractive man in his mid 20s hailing from Korea. He is of mixed heritage, with his father being Japanese and his mother being Korean. He has light brown eyes with matching-colored hair that goes down past his neck. He stands at 6 feet, and weighing approximately 160 lb.

For his attire, he usually wears a white overcoat that is open, exposing his tattooed chest. He wears a pair of camo pants that are fastened by a black belt with a silver belt buckle and a pair of black boots. Lastly, he wears a pair of black fingerless gloves.

Name Meanings

Yeong (英) - brave, hero

Hajoon - Summer, great, talented

Aliases

"The Machine Gun"

Yeong-kun - His mother

Pretty Boy - His female fans

Sensei

Biographical Info

Gender - Male

Age - 25

Birthday - Dec 8th

Ethnicity - Half Korean/Half Japanese

Hair Color - Brown

Eye Color - Light Brown

Height - 183 cm/6'0"

Weight - 74 kg/164 lb.

Star Sign - Sagittarius

Piercings - Three silver loop earrings and a bronze stud in his left ear.

Markings - The majority of his chest and arms are filled with black flame tattoos. He also has a dog tattoo on the back of his right leg.

Family

Biological Mother

Biological Father

Voiced By - The Quiett (Rapping)

Fun Facts

MC Name - 9-Dan

Occupation - Model/Dance Instructor/Bouncer

Division - Meguro

Team - DOG STREET CLUB

Position - Third Member

Favorite Food - Tteokbokki

Least Favorite Food - Jajangmyeon

Likes - Modeling, Go, his former master, Taekwondo, beer, nightclubs, women, slow days, dancing, dogs, Japanese culture, easy assignments

Dislikes - His parents, hard assignments, being teased by people, insects, missteps, being told he's doing something wrong, moody people, doing extra work

Hypnosis Microphone

Yeong's Microphone is a Blackberry phone that is gold in color.

His Speaker takes the form of a Go board. In the middle of the board is a speaker, and surrounding it are a large number of black and white Go pieces.

His rap ability, Swift Action, has Yeong using his stamina to increase the speed of his speech patterns, confusing and disorientating his opponents, lowering their defense.

Yeong's rap themes are centered around the phrase, 'Don't worry, be happy.' Unlike his teammates, who often sing and rap about negative things like their pasts, Yeong's themes revolve around happiness and looking forward to a brighter tomorrow. His themes often revolve around partying, dancing, or generally just having a good time.

Personality

As his quote can no doubt infer, Yeong is a happy, go-lucky guy who takes life as it comes, not letting negative or bad things get him down. Unlike his broody teammates, it is almost impossible to not see him without a smile or a smirk on his face. If he isn't smirking, then you know the situation is bad. But such instances are few and far between, and the young model will do all he can to lighten the mood when the situation calls for it.

However, Yeong is also very cocky and conceited at times, often running his mouth, which gets him into trouble more times than not. He's been warned by this many times by his peers and friends, but has yet to correct it. Fortunately for him, he is not all talk, as he also has the skills to back up his smart mouth. However, he often questions why his workload is always increasing, but has yet to figure out that he is main reason for this.

Besides that, despite his positive attitude and outlook, that's not to say Yeong is perfect. In fact, believe it or not, the young male model has more than his fair share of secrets, which even his teammates don't know about. In actuality, he is ███████████████, and has █████████████████████. His reasons for this is unknown, and only time will tell what he will do.

Background

Yeong was born as the only heir to the prestigious and well-known Cain family in Korea. Ever since he could remember, he was always taught by his parents how he should act. He was taught what words to say, how to sit and walk properly, how to conduct himself in public, and much more. As a child, he didn't mind it, believing that this was just the way of things. But as he got older and saw how free most of the other kids in Korea were compared to him, he began to find his parents' rules and way of doing things stifling.

At the age of eight, he asked his parents could he take up martial arts as a hobby. Not surprisingly, his parents refused, not only because this wasn't how a child of nobility should act, but also because they were afraid he'd hurt himself. Four years later, at the age of 12, he again asked permission from his parents to learn Taekwondo, but again his parents refused. Upset at this, he argued that an heir should be strong, as well as smart. But still, his parents refused to relent. At wit's end, Yeong stated that he would leave the family if his parents wouldn't grant him his request. Seeing how serious he was, his parents had no choice but to acquiesce their wayward son.

Over the span of two years, Yeong prodigiously excelled in Taekwondo at 14, and even earned high marks by his grandmaster, Dong Hajoon, after going face to face with him in battle. Though he was stern, his master often showed Yeong moments of kindness and clarity. He also introduced the game of Go to the young teen, which Yeong would come to love. Growing older, the grandmaster also regarded the young Cain heir as a worthy successor of the school, even though as that was not even possible for him and the ecstatic Yeong, as the prestigious Cain family name was the very obstacle.

At the age of 16, he graduated high school early, earning himself a doctorate, pleasing his parents' greatly, who knew that Yeong would make a good successor to the family. However, to everyone's surprise there, Yeong stated that he renounced his family name and was going to live his life as he wanted. He then changed his last name from 'Cain' to 'Hajoon', honoring his old master.

Four years later, at 20, Yeong made the decision to █████████, wanting to experience something fun for once in his life. Every chance he got, he rebuked his family name, stating that, 'I'm not that person anymore.' Though he was a good fighter and listener, his penchant for disobeying rules and orders gave his senior officials more than a few headaches.

During his time there, he met and befriended LeAnn Chambers, a more careful and thorough agent than Yeong was. Though the two had trouble getting along at first, they eventually become friends after Yeong ██████████████████. It was there LeAnn saw that despite his personality, Yeong was actually a lot smarter than he let out. To pay him back, Yeong promised her to let him take her out a date, which LeAnn offered no comment.

A year later, Yeong received word that LeAnn had ██████████████████. Upset and not understanding her reasons, he decided to █████████, getting himself a full-body tattoo to blend in. It was there he met Vito, and soon after, Saji. Together, the three men made a dynamic unit together. After receiving an invite from Chuohku, Yeong decided to join up with his teammates, though neither of them know that ██████████████████. He hopes that it won't have to come to that...

Trivia

Though he loves his job as a model, he hates having to stand still for hours as he gets fidgety after a while.

He is glad he decided to learn Taekwondo as it helped strengthen his leg muscles for dancing.

His MC name is his Taekwondo rank that he obtained. It is his way of honoring his master.

He knows a lot of the female models in Japan due to his work, and is happy that he is one of the few male models out there cause 'he doesn't have to share the limelight'.

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #hypnosis microphone #hypmic #yeong hajoon #dog street club #meguro division

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reine-du-sourire · 3 years ago

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Silver Lights to Make Things Right

This fic is for @dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3, for drawing a lovely piece of fanart for this story.

Inspired in part by @chinchillasinunison's Ishimondo Hypnosis Odyssey.

Ever wonder why Celestia wears that finger armor everywhere...?

"Are ya sure you know what yer doin'?"

"Oowada-kun," Celestia sighed. "For the last time, I've done this for years. Mostly on my gambling opponents, but I know how to apply the principles elsewhere. Why do you think I wear this ring all the time?"

The three were in Mondo's room, on his bed; Taka in the center, facing Celestia, Celestia sitting cross-legged in front him at the foot of the bed. Mondo was on Taka's other side, behind him, beside the rumpled pillow and the blankets they'd shoved to the head of the mattress. The lamp on Mondo’s bedside served the only illumination in the dim room.

The whole thing had been Mondo's idea. Celestia's was the method. Taka's role was to relax, and he was determined to do so if it killed him. Mondo was counting on him, after all!

Mondo did have his misgivings about Celestia's technique, though.

"How come they never catch on, if yer tellin' 'em to sleep right in middle of a game?" he demanded now.

"I obviously don't say it straight out," Celestia laughed. Her manner turned thoughtful. "And I don't order them to sleep, simply to fold or play a particular hand or droop their wrists a bit so I can see their cards or something like that. I have to be very subtle, and I can't always help it along with my speech, so sometimes it takes a while. I only do it when I need to; with the ones who aren't as malleable as I'd like my opponents to be. Ishimaru-kun should be far easier."

"Taka ain't dumb!"

"I did not say he was. He is simply a cooperative inductee in this little enterprise."

She smiled, and held up her index finger.

"Ready, Ishimaru-kun?"

Taka nodded stiffly, back ramrod straight as he stared at the silver armor. Celestia giggled, then began to move her finger through the air in soft, subtle patterns that Mondo couldn't begin to make heads or tails of.

"Watch, now. See the silver glinting? Nice and slow, so you can follow. Very pretty, yes?"

Taka watched, eyes tracking every motion. Celestia's voice softened and drew out.

"Very good. Focus on the silvery lights. Yes... just like that. Slow as breath, slow as you're breathing. You're very tense, now... but the silver lights are drawing all the tensions away, slowly, drawing them out through your exhales. Yes... yes, just like that. Every exhale is another muscle softening. Neck first... inhale the silver light. Slow, let it fill you... now let it go, exhale the tensions in your neck."

Mondo watched in silent fascination as Taka's posture loosened ever so slightly. His red eyes were still following the armor ring.

"Inhale again... the silver light fills your lungs, travels through your body... exhale the tensions in your shoulders. Through your nose and away... disappearing... gone. You're beginning to feel tired, yes? Your eyelids are heavy... you needn't hold them up. Exhale the tensions in your chest."

Mondo caught the Moral Compass quickly from behind as he drooped backward. Taka barely registered, the slice of still-visible eyeball lazily swaying back and forth with the flashing jewelry.

Celestia continued in this vein another minute or two, Taka's body slackening further and further until he was practically liquid in Mondo's arms.

"...there's nothing left in you but the silver light now. Let go... let everything go... let yourself sink lower and lower in. Let it support you; let it fill you up like warm water. You're very calm... so calm, drifting on the very edge of a sea of safety and slumber."

Put him on the bed, she mouthed quickly to Mondo. "Let yourself be drifted along... shhh... full of silver light, full of peace... shhh... you're perfectly calm, nothing is paining you or bothering you at all..."

Taka offered no resistance as Mondo laid him carefully on the bed. He was breathing through his nose, so slowly and softly Mondo almost couldn't hear it at all. The crescents of red under his eyelids were unfocused and dulled over; his skin paler than usual, his cheeks rosy and warm.

It was…

...unnerving.

"Let your eyelids drift down, covering your eyes. You're almost asleep, now...quiet and happy... shhh... think of your family, your friends... people who love you and care for you..."

A soft smile touched the corners of Taka's lips as his eyes fluttered closed. Mondo couldn't help but smile at that as well.

"Sleep... rest now... you've done all you have to, everything expected of you. You've done so well... sleep now, shhh... sleep now..."

Celestia smiled as she finished.

Mondo blinked, and shook his head, hard.

Taka didn't stir.

"How," the biker whispered, incredulity in every syllable, "did ya do that? He never relaxes like this! He never goes ta sleep so quick!"

"I told you," Celestia whispered back airily, though her pride was unmistakable. "I've done this for years. Never like that, though. But the principle's the same."

Still shaking his head, Mondo slid off the edge of the bed and scooped up the blanket pile, then hesitated. "Should I-"

"Go ahead." The gambler stood up too. "I think he'll be under for a while. Don't jostle him or make any loud noises, obviously."

"Yeah, yeah, 'course." Mondo shook out the blankets and draped them over the sleeping Moral Compass, unobtrusively smoothing back the dark hair. "Weird, seein' him so... y'know. Uh- thanks, Celes."

"My pleasure. Always looking to expand my skills." Celestia gave a little curtsey on her way out. “I’ll be in the library if you require assistance later.”

Mondo carefully shut the door behind her, then sat down in his desk chair, turning it so he could see both the desktop and his bed.

He’d stay until Taka woke up, maybe do a little homework in the meantime. Taka’d like that.

He couldn’t help the smile breaking out over his face.

Taka deserved this.

And it did Mondo's heart good to see him so relaxed and happy.

They were gonna have to do this again sometime.

#danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #celestia ludenberg #mondo owada #kiyotaka ishimaru #hypnosis #fanart #ao3 fanfic

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mas-o-kissed · 4 years ago

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Discovered (Short Hypnosis Story)

A short little hypnosis story that I ended up writing when I couldn’t sleep. I’ve done a lot of writing, but this was my first time attempting to write anything like this. There is some s*exual content, but it’s not very explicit.

WARNING for initial nonconsent, some light humiliation, and forcefulness. Ends nice and happy.

❤️

I was awakened by the sound of my bedroom door opening.

“Hey, you awake yet?”

It was my boyfriend, Ian’s voice. I rubbed my eyes in a daze. “What time is it?”

“Eleven. You’re still asleep? For real?”

I always felt groggy in the morning after listening to hypnosis, but I’d never forgotten to set an alarm. As he approached my bed, the realization dawned on me and I felt a sudden surge of panic.

“Where’s my phone?” I asked, trying not to sound suspicious, but before I spotted it, he reached down over the side of my bed, my earbuds still dangling from the headphone jack.

The page with the hypnosis file I had fallen asleep listening to was still open.

“What’s this?” Ian asked with a wry smile, and I snatched the phone from his hand.

“Nothing,” I said, scrambling for a lie that could possibly explain why the words Submissive Fantasy Part 3 were displayed on my screen. I couldn’t think of anything. Instead, I mumbled, “Don’t you knock?”

I felt my cheeks get hot as my stomach turned.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he put a hand on my shoulder and I looked away, ashamed.

I have one vice. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t even like to go to parties. I’d never told anyone. My desire to be controlled through hypnosis was far too embarrassing to share, even with partners I’d had in the past. It was a small, humiliating secret, just for me.

And now I was sure that my boyfriend knew all about it.

“You’re so innocent,” I could hear amusement creeping into his voice and my cheeks grew hot again. “I never would have figured you were into stuff like this.”

“I’m not...” I mumbled, weakly, “I was curious, that’s all. I-I didn’t listen...”

“Leo,” he interrupted my poor excuses, “you’re a terrible liar.”

“I have to get ready,” I started to get up off the bed, but he pulled me back down. I became acutely aware of how much stronger he was than me.

“I get that you’re embarrassed but... you don’t have to be.”

There was no way this was happening. There was a brief moment of silence between us as I searched my brain for something to say that would make him forget this. Instead, he said, “What if I were to pick out the next file for you?”

“W-what?!”

“You heard me,” he said softly. I was certain he was teasing me. I tried to get off the bed again but he held me back, gentle and firm. “I want to pick the next one you listen to. I want to see what it does to you.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw him pull my black work tie from where it had been hanging over my headboard.

“I bet you make a really cute face when you go into trance.”

“I don’t,” I muttered. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t help but reflexively fight against whatever he said. “I can’t go into t-trance. It doesn’t work on me.”

He laughed as he pushed me down into my back, pinning my arms up above my head.

“Sure it doesn’t. You won’t mind if I satisfy my curiosity then, will you?”

He began wrapping my tie around my wrists. I struggled against him, trying in vain to move away, but there was nothing I could do to stop him from tying my wrists above my head, securely fastening them to the headboard. I was completely helpless.

“Let me go!” I shouted at him, but even as I thrashed on the bed I could feel myself getting turned on by my inability to break free, by his power over me.

“We’re not done yet,” he said, opening up my drawer and pulling out a scarf. I tried to pull my legs away, but as he bound them together I knew it was useless to fight. Even though I’d had partners in the past, I’d always been too shy to ask them to bind me. An overwhelming feeling of submission rose up inside of me. I was utterly humiliated, pathetically tied to my own bed, and what made it all worse was that I liked it.

“There. Safe and secure,” he said, gently running a hand up my body, from my thigh up to my neck. I shivered, suppressing a moan. My sex was already throbbing with arousal. He began brushing his hand softly across my inner thigh, back and forth in methodical motions. Pressing down. Teasing. Getting so close to touching my sensitive sex, but never quite reaching it. It turned me on so much I could barely stand it.

“S-s-stop it,” I stuttered out, as my own hips betrayed me, drawing upwards in search of friction. I whimpered as I tried and failed to stop myself from thrusting upwards. My breath quickened with the jerking motions of my body.

“Awww,” he teased, “look at you, pathetically bucking the air. It took so little to get you like this.” He removed his hand from my thigh, to my relief. I took a sharp breath and looked up at the bindings around my wrists, tugging at them.

He held my chin, forcing me to look up at him as he continued, “So helpless...” He ran his thumb over my lips, “I love seeing you like this.”

He picked up my phone, scrolling through the website. The expression on his face was my only hint as to what he had in store for me, and it revealed very little.

“Please...” I began, resolved to my predicament, “don’t pick something too intense. Please don’t embarrass me more.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he kissed my forehead. Despite myself, I felt so safe under his control, “Don’t be afraid.” He placed an earbud in my ear. “I just want to have some fun with you.” He placed the other earbud in. For a brief moment, I saw the title Silent Servant appear on the phone screen, before he tucked it out of my view. My heartbeat pounded in my chest, quickening as I felt his hand brush my hair off my forehead. “Just relax.”

He hit play.

As the words began through my earbuds, the soothing and familiar voice of the hypnotist flowed into my brain, and my thoughts began to slow. My body went limp. My mind was accustomed to going under for this voice from the many times I’d listened to the files on my own. I didn’t stand a chance. I watched Ian’s face as the voice counted down from ten to zero.

And then my mind went blank.

+++

“Welcome back,” Ian smiled, leaning over me. I blinked and tried to stretch my body, taking a moment to recall that I was bound in place.

“... l... ah...” When I opened my mouth to speak, it felt as though my tongue was thick and heavy. I tried to form words, but all that would come out was incomprehensible gibberish.

“I thought you said you couldn’t be hypnotized,” he mused. “You looked so peaceful.”

“Aa... ah!”

“You can’t speak without permission, hon.”

I grumbled. I felt hot tears of embarrassment welling up in my eyes as he began to untie me. I rubbed my freed wrists, staring daggers as he untied my legs.

“What are you looking at me like that for? It wouldn’t have worked if you didn’t enjoy it.”

I wanted to tell him it was different. That he was taking advantage of a fetish that I couldn’t control. That while some part of me had very much wanted it, had very much enjoyed it, the rational part of me would never have agreed to this. Instead, my mouth said, “Aaa... ah... mmfmm...” as I struggled to wrap my tongue around a word, any word that would get my point across. I could tell he enjoyed my building frustration.

“That file wasn’t just for speech restriction. You should also find yourself completely unable to disobey me,” he said, an evil look flashing in his eye. “You have to tell me the truth.”

I swallowed.

“If you didn’t like this, if you want to forget it ever happened, and for me to apologize for doing this to you, tell me. I’ll remove all the effects of the hypnosis, and I’ll never bring it up again. You’ll be able to speak coherently and tell me exactly this.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued.

“If you enjoy being controlled by me, if you want me to play with your mind as I see fit, say ‘yes, sir.’” He grinned and looked at me, “I think you would make an excellent servant.”

I knew the words that were threatening to escape my lips, and I clasped my hands over my mouth.

“Leo,” he repeated, “tell me the truth.”

“Yes, sir!” I blurted out. There was no denying it anymore. Despite my shame, I wanted this so badly that my feelings of desire threatened to overwhelm every part of me that held back. I looked down, half hiding behind my bedsheets.

“Very good,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “That’s enough for today. You’ve been a very good boy.”

My face flushed, but along with it came a warm sense of comfort as he held me tight.

“A...mmm... ah...”

“I give you permission to speak.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#hypnosis #hypnokink #hypnosis story #my writing

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chelsfic · 4 years ago

Text

Leftovers - Part 6 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Previous parts: Masterlist

Summary: In which the reader and Nandor engage in some smut. There are lingering effects after the attack by the unknown vampire. A fight breaks out! And Fucking Colin Robinson can’t help himself when it comes to Scrabble.

A/N: Yeah, hi. It’s me. I spent all day struggling with this unwieldy beast and trying to shape it into something the least bit consistent. I really hope this holds up with the rest of the fic. I am also thinking that a vampire orgy is on the horizon, lol.

Warnings: Smut, Female Reader-insert, Reader is described as short and a roller derby player, lingering trauma from vampire attack, memory loss due to hypnosis

---

The horrible, empty echo of erased memories is still with you when you wake, like a forgotten dream that nags at the back of your mind. Nandor sleeps like the literal dead beside you and the inside of the coffin is utterly dark. His presence wraps around you. His solid body is a comfort and his scent fills the enclosed space--earthy and spicy with an edge of coppery-blood-soaked menace. It should raise the hairs on the back of your neck. Your primitive instincts should be screaming at you to run. Instead you draw closer to him, resting your head beside his, close enough for your breath to warm his lips.

The moment is quiet and still, despite the frantic beat of your heart as you recall the softness of his lips on yours and the proud, possessive audacity of his hands on your body. You think Nandor’s kisses must be at least as addictive to you as your blood is to him. Ever since that frenzied, blood-drunk makeout session you’ve had the memory of it running on repeat in the undercurrent of your thoughts. But, Nandor? Does he...want that outside the context of blood letting?

There’s only one way to find out, chicky, Nadja would say.

You lean forward, pressing your mouth to his cool lips, marveling at the contrast with your sleep-warmed skin. For a long moment he remains unmoving... dead to the world. You dart out your tongue and stroke it along his full lower lip, thrilling when you brush the wicked point of a fang. Your hands cup over his bearded cheeks, and you drag your fingers along his jaw as he gradually stirs beneath your touch. He wakes with a deep groan that rumbles up his throat and into your kiss. His lips move with yours now, parting to admit your seeking tongue. He catches your bottom lip in his teeth and nibbles gently, eliciting a pleased squeak from you.

“Nandor...” you pant. He’s fully awake now. His hand roams down your side, into the dip of your waist and over the round curve of your hips.

“Mortal,” he answers you, dragging his fangs along your lips with a shudder that wracks his frame. He brings his other hand up between you and brushes the tips of his fingers over your lips, “I can feel your blood. Here, and…”

He reaches down and just barely presses his flattened palm over the aching heat between your legs.

“...here,” he finishes.

Your breath falls from your lips in a shaky gasp. His touch is frustratingly light but thrilling all the same. You roll your hips forward, seeking the friction your body craves and Nandor obliges you, snaking his hand between your thighs to cup your sex and rub you through the fabric of your shorts.

“I want you, Nandor,” you hiss in pleasure, peppering kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his nose. It’s a declaration and one you’re not sure he’ll accept.

His mouth curves in pleasure at your admission. He wants to plunge himself inside of you and tear into your neck, erasing the foul touch of that unknown vampire. You’re his human. A growl rips from his throat at the thought.

He lowers his lips to brush against the shell of your ear as he barely whispers, “When I am with you I feel like I did with 35 of my 37 wives…”

He captures your earlobe between his teeth, letting his fang break the skin with a stinging little pinch while at the same time increasing the pressure of his hand against the bundle of pulsing nerves between your legs.

“...I feel as though I could never set another peasant aflame and...still be happy…”

He closes his lips around the tiny wound and sucks, moaning with the heady ambrosia of your virgin blood as you ride his hand.

“You’re in the habit of lighting peasants on fire?” you laugh shakily, your breath coming in heaving gasps.

He laughs haughtily, “I’ve killed a thousand peasants and drunk a thousand virgins, my human.”

Okay, pillow talk could use some...work. It doesn’t matter anyway because you soon lose your power of speech and resort to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breaking his hold on your earlobe in the process.

When Guillermo throws open the lid of the coffin you’re clinging to Nandor’s body with his hand buried between your thighs and a completely obvious moan dying on your lips.

Guillermo’s mouth falls open in shock and you jump away from Nandor, scrambling over the side of the coffin and burning in mortification when you notice the camera crew lurking in the open doorway.

“Guillermo!” Nandor shouts. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

---

“So...things are getting a little complicated with the human…”

Nandor is still seated in his coffin, one arm draped casually along the rim, and addressing the camera with an uncomfortable grimace.

“It’s like, do I want to drink her or do I want to do the sex with her?”

He looks off to the side, shaking his head in confusion. After a moment he finally climbs out of the coffin, standing and revealing the massive erection tenting his trousers.

“I wonder where Laszlo is…?”

---

There’s a saying in the derby world. “Roller derby will save your soul.” Sure, it might ruin your knees, break your nose, and deplete your bank account. But when you’re skating on the track with your league you can let go of everything else in your life for a little while.

The nagging black hole in your memories from the rave went away while Nandor touched you. But it returns with a vengeance soon after and you arrive at practice with a headache and a foul mood. Tonight is contact drills. Thank god. You really need to hit something.

You go through the motions of warming up, tossing greetings to your fellow skaters and letting yourself be in the moment. Your body knows these movements like the lyrics to a favorite song. You’re strong, fast and in control. Everything that you weren’t last night when...whoever it was attacked you and stole your memory. By the time you break a sweat you’re grinning with exhilaration.

You run through drills, losing yourself in muscle memory. The night ends with a short scrimmage and you on your ass after a truly impressive hit from one of the new skaters. The girl looks horrified that she’s hurt you but you just laugh it off, slapping your wrist guard to hers in congratulations.

By the time you step off the bus and make your way up to the front door of the house you’re feeling loose and pleasantly sore. And hardly frustrated at all after your interrupted moment with Nandor this evening.

Hardly at all.

As soon as you step inside Guillermo rushes up to you with a frantic look on his face.

“Nadja and Nandor are going to kill each other!” he cries.

Can you never have a nice, peaceful evening in this house? Maybe a game of Scrabble or a movie night?

All the vampires are assembled in the library and Nandor and Nadja are both floating in the air furiously hissing at one another like a couple of street cats.

“YOU BLOODY, SLUG-FACED ASSHOLE!” Nadja shouts, clawing out her arms and flying towards Nandor, who throws out a kick and sends her crashing into the opposite wall.

“Nandor!” you shout, disgusted. “What is going on!? I leave for a few hours and all hell breaks loose?”

“HUMAN! Tell your snake-ass boyfriend I am not to blame for what happened last night!” Nadja cries, breaking into a hiss as Nandor flies at her with murder in his eyes.

“Stop it, Nandor!” you shout, dropping your gear bag and reaching up to snag his ankle as he floats by. Rather than slowing him down as you intended, you end up getting dragged along the floor in his wake as he chases Nadja out into the hallway.

“Gaaah!” you shriek, hanging on to him and trying to dig your heels into the floor to slow him down. When that doesn’t work you forcibly pull yourself up his leg, grabbing onto the thick belt at his waist and climbing until you’re wrapped around him piggyback-style. You clamp your hands over his eyes and shout, “Stop!”

“Fu-cking human!” Nandor curses, reaching up and prying your hands off his eyes. “You stop it or I’ll drain you right now. I mean it!”

The threat falls flat, considering he’s currently in an apparent fight to the death over your safety and honor…

“If you kill Nadja I’ll never kiss you again...or any other stuff!” you growl, digging your fingers into his thick hair and giving it a yank. He hisses and swats at your hands.

Nandor actually pauses to consider your words, looking over his shoulder at you in hesitation before scoffing, “Psssk, you can’t resist my dark power, human. Now shut up and let me kill our roommate!”

Nadja has retreated up to the vaulted ceiling above the main entryway and Nandor surges upward after her.

You shriek in terror, “I’m afraid of heights, you jerk!”

“I’LL RIP OUT ALL OF YOUR DIRTY PUBIC HAIRS AND SHOVE THEM IN YOUR EYEBALLS YOU--!”

Just as Nandor is about to collide with your astonishingly imaginative vampire mama, Laszlo barrels out of nowhere and rams into him with a dramatic cry, “I say, keep your hands off my lady wife!”

Nandor launches backwards and crashes against the wall, crushing you and knocking the wind from your lungs in the impact. You both crumple onto the upstairs balcony. Nandor recovers at once, making ready to jump into the fray, but you’re lying on your back, coughing and wheezing as you try to get in a breath.

“Stupid...jerk...vampires! Knock it off!” you gasp.

Nadja flies down from her perch to land at your side with a moue of concern.

“Poor, baby,” Nadja coos over you before turning on Nandor. “Now look what you’ve done, donkey dick!”

Nandor kneels on your other side and whines, “I did nothing! It was Laszlo!”

You lift yourself up onto your elbows and eye both vampires with as much exasperation as you can summon.

“Enough! Nadja...I forgive you for leaving me on my own. I know how horny you are--”

“Thank you, human,” she sniffs.

“Nandor...stop trying to kill Nadja,” you order, trying to instill the tone of authority into your voice that comes so naturally to him.

He rolls his eyes and pouts but finally murmurs, “Fine.”

“Good…” you sigh, getting to your feet with a moan of pain. “I’m gonna go lay in bed with an ice pack on my ass. Try not to kill anyone--er, well...at least try not to kill each other…”

---

After a shower and some icing of the blossoming red and purple derby bruise on your right butt cheek, you make your way downstairs to find that Nadja, Laszlo and Nandor have all gone out hunting. Colin is sitting by himself in the library with his newspaper and Guillermo is tucked away in his room, talking to his mom on the phone.

“Hey,” you greet Colin as you gingerly drop down onto the couch. “Do we have any board games? Maybe Scrabble?”

A grin spreads across Colin’s lips and you miss the sheen of blue hunger in his eyes as he replies, “I think I’ve got an old Scrabble set around here somewhere…”

---

“...And then in 2017 it was David Eldar who took home the championship. But, of course, today the reigning champion is still Nigel Richards. But what’s really fascinating about competitive mind sports, like Scrabble--”

“What the fuck!” Nandor appears in the doorway of the library and you immediately turn to him and make grabby hands.

“Save me!” you implore dramatically.

Colin snickers under his breath, “Sorry, Nandor, I couldn’t help it. There’s just something about Scrabble that really gets me going…”

“Fucking Colin Robinson…” Nandor mutters darkly as he trails you up the stairs, following you right into your room and shutting the door on the camera crew behind him.

You plop down onto your bed, wincing a little with the pain of your massive bruise. When you glance up at Nandor you notice a splash of red blood on his chin.

“Have a nice...hunt?” you ask, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

Nandor grins and perches beside you on the bed with a sweep of his cape.

“Jealous?” he questions with a smug smirk that bares his fangs.

Yes.

“No,” you insist. “I like my blood right where it is, thanks.”

Nandor narrows his eyes and needles, “Really...” His gaze falls to rest on the thrumming pulse of your throat. “Are you sure you don’t prefer it on my lips...or my tongue…?”

He crawls over you and the dark curtains of his long hair cascade down around your face as he bends to lay a kiss along your jaw.

“No biting!” you insist and he pulls back with a pout.

“Not even just to wash the taste of those joggers out of my mouth? They tasted like shit!” he complains.

You really shouldn’t be pleased that he prefers the taste of your blood over others but…

“You’re getting spoiled,” you grumble, reaching up and idly playing with his hair. “But you’re very pretty…”

Nandor settles down beside you and pulls you onto his chest, running his hands over your back and down to the curve of your backside with a lecherous leer.

“You’re the one who’s spoiled. I should have left you in the human cell to feed on when I choose…”

The threat is comically empty.

You roll your eyes at him and squirm up to press a kiss to his bearded chin, “Yeah, but then I’d probably be dead by now...and you wouldn’t have someone to smooch and cuddle in your coffin, so…”

He cups your face in his hands, drawing you back down and pressing his mouth to yours in a long, passionate kiss that erases the taste of jogger’s blood from his tongue.

“I suppose that there are certain benefits to mercy…”

Nandor picks up where you left off in his crypt. He kisses you senseless, until you’re a squirming bundle of need and then he finally reaches down between you and pushes his large hand down the front of your shorts and into your wet folds. His hands may have been made to hold a sword in battle, to bring pain and death, but they are also capable of the utmost tender and skilled care as he works you into a keening frenzy on top of him. You wail with the intensity of the orgasm that crashes through you and he keeps his hand on you, rubbing and stroking your oversensitive flesh until it almost hurts.

His erection juts between your bodies, obscenely obvious through the thick fabric of his trousers. You’re still breathless with the force of the pleasure he’s given you when you make your first shy, tentative advances. As soon as your warm hand presses against him through his pants Nandor let’s out a fierce growl and he grabs your wrist, directing you to apply more pressure, rutting himself against your little hand. You reach for the waist of his pants with your free hand, tugging at it and fiddling with the absurd number of buttons until he finally assists you, opening his fly and reaching in to free himself.

Nandor’s smile is goofy and pleased with himself as he watches your virgin eyes roam over the impressive length of him. You reach out to touch. He’s thick and heavy in your hand. Your touch is feather light, experimental, hesitant. You watch as his eyes fall closed and his lips part. Nandor the Relentless is at the mercy of his mortal pet. Your touch grows firm, more confident. He fists his hands into the sheets and pants out the faintest, needy cries of pleasure until he’s twitching and shaking in your hand with his own release. The cold spurt of his seed falls over your fist and stains the rich fabric of his tunic.

Now that it’s over you’re unaccountably shy. You tuck yourself into his side and hide your face in his shoulder as he recovers himself. You fall asleep like that, clinging to him. And for the first time in centuries Nandor sleeps outside his coffin, curled protectively around you.

---

You’re sitting cross-legged in the high-backed armchair across from the camera man. His question hangs in the air and you pull the hood of your sweatshirt up, tugging on the drawstrings to hide your face as you answer.

“Yeah...I’m still a virgin.”

Memories of the previous night swirl through your head and you tighten the drawstrings until only your eyes peer out from the hoodie.

“...for now.”

---

“Guillermo!” Nandor shouts from his crypt. “I have clothes for the washer woman!”

---

A/N: Ugh---please send me soft, nice things. I’m entirely unsure if I’m happy with this. The only part I know I love was the fight scene with Nadja and Nandor.

Tags:

@festering-queen @glitterportrait @kandomeresbitch @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows

#nandor #nandor the relentless #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor imagine #nandor the relentless imagine #nandor the relentless fanfic #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fanfic #wwdits fanfic #kayvan novak

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