#sweetloverboy

[loverboy-hearts]

What I'd give to be holding my knife to my t-boys throat, him sitting on my lap from previously docile cuddles. I wonder if he'd peer over his shoulder impassively, knowing my minds ways, or if he'd be so nervously cute. I'd hope he'd understand my desire for his safety, pressing the knife against the skin of their lower neck. I'd kiss his upper ear and trail down to his exposed neck, mindful to observe for any signs of his twitches but keeping a light pressure of the knife. With my free hand, I'd pull down the nape of his shirt to kiss the exposed skin of their shoulder. If he'd struggle, I'd remind him how charming it is to devolve him into a mess, I'd give some encouragement by adjusting my knife to the midpoint of his neck. Getting to the crook of his shoulder and neck, I'd bite down hard while easing the knife away of his throat. From there, I would throw aside my knife and do every amount of wrestling and fighting to stay sucking and biting on his neck. Between the wrestling, I would try to get my hand in their pants to start working at his dick, or his precious boy pussy. Something to distract my mind from the flesh between my teeth and how I'd love to taste your blood and have your flesh between my teeth.

Soft night tonight, would want to be spooning my love after destroying his pussy and ego respectively.

[loverboy-hearts]

I want to reduce a tboy to pathetic blubbering mess to be at my disposal to play with. Fuck him until he's close and deny him, until he's so needy. Fondle his tits while fucking him from from the back with my cock, make him beg me not to stop, beg to not prevent him from cumming. When I'd finally let him come, I'd give him the opportunity to suck my strap for a break. If declined or then after, I'd suck his cute little tdick, making him writhe and plead around the overstimulation.

When I'd eaten him a fair amount, I'd switch pleasures to fuck him slow with my fingers, watching how his face twisted, how his body twitched, feeling for any throb of his boypussy towards any choice word or actions. If he'd duck his face into the pillows or blankets, I'd taunt him for being a cute toy, that it was precious he's letting himself be used by me, laugh how the mutt couldn't even stand to even look at who was reducing them to such a state. I'd fuck him deep and hard no matter if he'd peak his face out of the blankets, I'd want his moans to be echoing off my skull. I'd want his pleasure to be my only focus, making him squirm, scream, buck a leg- I'd want him to feel the most.

[loverboy-hearts]

I want a sub whose brattiness is biting me every chance they could get, having to worry about catching their hands, having bloody scratches down my back. Both our blood on the sheets by the end of the night. I imagine the contrast of our sex, calculating and exploiting each other's bodies for weaknesses, warring for an upper hand even if (their) point is to be overpowered and fucked. That compared to the gentle cleaning up eachothers wounds, noting and admiring the damages on each others bodies, me big spoon cuddling them while falling asleep or relaxing to some show.

How loved I would feel, to express both our darkest, most vulnerable, and instinctual urges, to settle into docile banter, gaming, or whatnot everyday activity, as long as it's together.

[loverboy-hearts]

He was drifting off, I held anticipation off in case he could sense it. My arm wrapped slyly around this shoulder on the couch, he was slowly going limp against me. His breathing was finally slowing, but I couldn't let excitement overwrite my patience. I held off the temptation to drink more of my beer, sitting stiffly with my drifting off Monday night whore.

After at least ten minutes, I fixed my eyes on his face with upmost focus, I blew on his face, softly and then to a steady force. His eyes didn't flutter, he didn't twitch. I smiled a little too widely for such little reassure, but excitement settled in my stomach. I shifted myself and him slightly, leaning his pressure against the couch. I turned fully towards his sleeping form and started unbuttoning his shirt, quick and meticulously revealing his chest and stomach. I adjusted the shirt where it was falling off his shoulders. I was deeply pleased that he'd showed no signs of waking up, a little bit of shuffling and a lolling of his head, but nothing worrying.

I pressed my hand between his breasts, my fingers splayed across his chest and collarbone, I revealed in touching his skin, especially with him not receptive to anything I did. I pulled my fingers closer together as I ran my hand down his chest and to his stomach, a test of his tolerance in sleep and more exploration of his body. I pulled my permanent marker from my pocket, the little friend I'd been excited to use. My mind doubled a parallel of pulling out a knife instead, having the same playful turn towards his unconscious body.

My playful mood froze for a moment, imagining his knife slashing across his throat, this man's blood spraying over my living room and self. I could imagine licking blood from my lips, sitting a top of a dying body while he wetly choked on his own blood. I wondered if he'd have time to wake and comprehend what I'd done to him. That no less than three hours ago they were drinking and joking, hitting it off like they'd known each other for years. The person he had called sweet.

I shook my head, physically shaking off the diseased thoughts. I uncapped my marker with a pop and held onto what I'd been given consent to do, it was enough. Especially enough given tonight's lover was either foolish or freaky enough to allow me to do what I wanted while unconscious, not that he was one to overstep, but fucking unconscious people was like fucking a corspe, they won't talk, they won't react much, so on. It was almost an experience only I had with his body, not one he had with me.

I moved the marker underneath his right breast, thinking before writing the first logical sounding graffiti in mind, Mutt. I wrote it classically, lifting his breast to do so. I wrote each letter slowly, with control and sway to have an elegant look to it. Moving under his other breast, I groped his chest softly with my free hand, thinking of my next word choice. I smirked and scrolled out, Naive under his other breast. Some would take great offense from being called naive, I wasn't sure if this one would, but it surely applied, giving me so much control over his body, I could kill him and dump him in the lake for the catfish.

Easily, I picked my next word, with thick and bold lines, I wrote "Cum disposal" across his collarbones with an arrow pointing up his throat. If I was being more transparent and fun with this, I'd write snuff bait, but waking up to read that the next morning with no context on his person, well, could have more than one bad responses. I continued groping his chest, I was told there were no boundaries on the humiliation/degrading reminders tomorrow, how many times have I noticed this cutie at the clubs or bars? A ray of sunshine, but someone who liked sleeping around. I contemplated, so many words that could fit towards this beautiful soul. Starting from the divet of his ribs meeting, I started writing the first letter of the descending word, bathroom bitch, for all the dicks sucked and took in the former.

Cocky go boing boing, testing the waters

[loverboy-hearts]

My name is Damien, welcome to my hard kink blog (block don't report please)! Before I get into the meat of my post, you should meet me some. (Get out of here if under 18)

I'm a 20 year old transman, I'm mostly t4t (trans men and nb people romantically anyway) with some exception for lovely femme fatales, and I'm also strictly a dom but may post about other fantasies. (Single/unclaimed)

My Dnis are few, minors fuck off, geniune pedophiles or zoophiles fuck off, queerphobes nah ty, radqueers- I simply won't engage if I don't fw otherwise.

For all who wish to avoid potentially triggering and dark content, this is your direct warning.

Anyway, my purpose for creating this blog is to find some friends and potential fun, looking for potential ride or dies & fuckbuddies or finding a long time partner, I'm patient with that. Open to kink role-playing&sexting, asks or dm (subs, pups, switches, and brats encouraged! I prefer ftm but will talk dirty with other trans nb&women, women, and gay/bi men). To the people who enjoy literate rp, hit me up as well

Now the fun! My reason for creating this blog is my paraphilias around;

Cannibalism, snuff, violence, r>pe, suicide, and some necrophilia type shit.

Some potential recurring themes for your digresssion; Stalking/obsession, abuse, torture, cnc, s/h&mutilation, drugging, gore, blashemy, somnophila, humiliation/degradation, forced fem/masc&forced detransition, ana/malnourishment, brainwashing/hypnosis, training & breaking, and much more!

Some favorite tropes/relationship dynamics;

Scientist/Their experiment, many potential plots to trauma bonding, cults, serial killer/victim, Master/Servant (not historical slavery), free/public use, committed abusive relationship dynamics, and more.

Tags for this blog;

#sweetloverboy - For fantasies that aren't terribly vile

#loverboyhearts - Tag for fantasies that I consider reproachful

Other relevant information; I highly value consent and bodily autonomy. This account will likely touch on this, but this shit manifested from trauma. I'd imagine it's the same for a section of people in this community, if you are one of those people, I would love to chat. For the chance OSDDID systems reading this, especially would wanna connect.

I already can't comment or dm lol hopefully will resolve (contacted support), haven't done anything abhorrent to my knowledge. I'm not sure if my asks work right now or if I can send asks? Eh, I'll give it a week or so, don't know how long support takes or what I got flagged for. Note: I can respond to DMs when someone else starts then

[loverboy-hearts]

I want a good boy who'd eagerly suck my finger when I prick myself with embroidery needles; greedy for any drop of his master's blood.

[loverboy-hearts]

I sometimes think what would I be if this love didn't soften me. The pretty boys that I'd want to be their butcher. I can imagine laying together, pressing my head to their chest, hearing his heart fluttering like caged birds. I'd listen to your heart pump, a quiet and subdued moment. There'd be a tight feeling in my own chest as I'd imagine your precious heart in my hands. So red, the admiral weakening of trying to pump blood through is valves, I can imagine the soft texture of something so fragile as your organs. Snapping myself from my head, I'd wrap my arms around you and hold onto you, stuffing my head into your chest like hiding from my fantasies. Stewing in my love and swallowing my saliva, ignoring the mental imagine of standing alone covered in your blood and gore.

Imagining our time cut short makes the fantasy feel like nightmare, but only because of how I imagine you.