#tw forced sex

[theeonlyroman]

This was inspired by @kitkatscabinet forced fuck fic, follow them for content! ❤️

Part 1: Everyone falls

Before everything had took a turn for the worse you were with Kyle too which Price knew about but had chose not say anything because of the potential he had saw in you both and the fact that regardless of your relationship it did not interfere with the teams overall dynamic and efficiency.

Price is especially fond of you often times thinking of you as a favored protege or a daughter, it’s somewhere along those lines.

Ghost has a not so secret thing for you which had started out entirely innocent, before you and Kyle had gotten together Soap would often encourage him to try to take things further and ask you on a date but it almost never worked out.

But you and Kyle had fit seamlessly together in a way that made sense and had came so naturally that the chemistry was so unreal. You both had brought the best out in one another and others had often viewed you both as endgame.

It made Ghost feel insecure and had caused him to shut his own feelings down for you as a way of protecting himself.

Sadly Task Force 141 would soon be torn apart at the hands of Makarov and his protege Nikolai.

Nikolai had infiltrated the 141 under the guise of William, who was from the rural area of Rutland in the East Midlands.

Over a period of time “William” had gained the team’s trust (not really Ghost) and had made himself an integral member of the task force. But little did you all know that all of Williams action’s were deliberate and meant to lead the 141 into a carefully planned trap.

Both he and Makarov had captured you, Ghost and Soap and rather than kill you both he had decided that he would much rather send all three of you back broken beyond repair to Price especially you, Price’s most favored.

But Makarov had decided to let his protege Nikolai make the choice of what form of torture he’d like to enforce, it wasn’t until then that all three of you had saw his true colors.

Nikolai had raised a gun to your head instructing you to strip bare in front of your teammates to which you did but he wasn’t satisfied and was rather miffed that you did so with a steely, guarded face.

His eyes drifted to Soap refusing to look at your bare body out of respect for you, not only as your teammate but most importantly your best friend.

It was then a sick, smug grin slithered across his face, he turned his attention to Soap and slowly walked towards him and tilted his head with his gun underneath Soap’s chin.

“Hey Soapy bitch? Isn’t she a fine woman? I can see why Gaz is so how you say “touchy” with her” his grin seems to grow even wider as he looks out of the corner of his eye and sees Ghost angrily clench his hands together

Nikolai looks back to Soap and coldly looks at him in the eyes and says

“I want you to rape her”

And it was in that moment you could feel the atmosphere grow colder as if Death was looming not far away from where you had stood but you refused to break under Makarov’s cold, indifference.

“Fuck you” Soap says and Nikolai gets up with a shrug and soon points his gun to your head and before he could pull the trigger Soap screams reaching for Nikolai but is soon shot in the head by Makarov.

Soap falls before you and Ghost, his once shiny blue eyes now dull and devoid of life.

You want to cry, you want to reach for his body and beg for him to come back but you can’t, you can’t because you know that it can mean the end for you too.

Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Ghost, you can see his resolve slowly crumbling as his best friend lays before him but before you and him know it Nikolai’s screeching laughter interrupts your shared feelings.

“Oh I know I know how about this!” He calls for more men and they surround Ghost and he instructs them not to kill Ghost but make sure you watch what they are about to do.

They brutally beat him, Nikolai tells him that if he fights back they won’t even bother raping you they just tie you to the back of their truck and drag your bare body across the ground till your nothing but scraps.

So he takes every kick and every punch but the one thing he won’t do is scream, cry or beg and little by little he feels that what’s left of him his slowly breaking as he watches your resolve break. Now he doesn’t see you, he sees a broken, frightened woman crying; you almost reminded him of a child if it weren’t for the fact that you were naked.

He wishes that you didn’t choose this way of life, he wishes that he had the courage to finally confess his love for you. He wishes to tell you that Soap said you’d both go good together, he wishes that Soap was his best man and that he was alive. Ghost wishes for so many things but in some sick twisted way he knows that those dreams would never come true. Soap is gone and he doesn’t even know how far gone you are and he doesn’t even know if he has the strength to pull you both from this.

Finally once this is over and he wakes from consciousness he can hear you screaming for him to wake up and he looks at you and sees you still standing, shivering and he sees Nikolai sitting there waiting for him to wake up.

“Have a nice rest lover boy? Thought you’d never wake up, we were almost gonna have some fun with the pretty baby but looks like you beat us to it”

Ghost shuts his eyes breathing heavily trying to steady what’s left of his resolve and shakily gets up

“Oh my! Look at you! Good for you big boy doing all the hard work of lifting you for us we should make you one of us!” Nikolai laughs and he walks towards you and his cocky nature calms, it turns more sadistic and he waits for Ghost to stand at his full height.

“Cause we’re not done because now your gonna TAKE her and your gonna thank me for it because even the flys on this wall know you want her and if you don’t well tsk tsk maybe I’ll cut parts of her off and feed her to you and in a way that’s pretty romantic don’t you think?”

[icycoldninja]

I'll love you forever (Vergil x reader angst)

TW: Rape/noncon, blood, graphic violence, death, really angsty/dark themes, and cursing. If you are a minor or are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI!!!

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

"Y/N, run!" Vergil shouted, using the Yamato to slice a gibbering demon in half. You ducked as its entrails whizzed past you; one of it's severed feet almost hit you in the face.

"I can't!" You replied, pulling out your own weapon and using it to kill an encroaching demon with large horns. The demon's corpse collapsed at your feet, adding to the pile of demon bodies that was beginning to build up. You and Vergil were stranded in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by hungry, angry demons. There were hundreds of them, all huge, armed, and tough as hell. Even with Vergil's legendary prowess and your own skill, there was no way you two would make it out of here alive--something Vergil knew all too well. This was the third time he'd insisted upon you leaving; he said he'd use the Yamato to open a portal back to civilization so you could get to safety, but you'd adamantly refused. How could you leave the love of your life to die like this? No, if you were going down, you were going down together. Vergil leaped into the air and sliced apart a demon that was mere inches from biting into your lower back; you took the head off of a denizen that had almost sliced off Vergil's leg.

"Why are you being so stubborn right now?!" Vergil yelled, panting heavily.

"Just go!" You shook your head.

"I'm not going. I'm staying here with you." Vergil shot you a look of both exhaustion and adoration. How he loved you for being so loyal to him.

"You're a fool, Y/N." He mumbled, before performing Judgement Cut on a particularly large demon.

"I might be a fool," You admitted, chuckling, "But I'm your fool."

From somewhere behind you, Vergil scoffed. Although he might have acted all annoyed and grumpy, but on the inside, he was practically glowing with love for you.

"Y/N, you are-" He was cut off when a HUGE demon with seven arms yanked him into the air by the foot.

"Shit," You swore, whirling around. "Vergil!" The demon was holding him upside down by his ankle; its 6 other arms were busy tearing away his clothing. Vergil struggled, kicked at the demon's arms, but the creature was so large and so strong, nothing he did affected the situation he was in at all. The demon, tired of his futile attempts to slice its arms off with the Yamato, squeezed his ankle, hard.

POP!

Vergil screamed in pain as his ankle was literally crushed under the demon's strength.

"Vergil!" You shouted, barreling you way past the congregating demons in order to get to him.

"No, stay back, Y/N, this one's different!"

What happened next only served to accentuate his words. The demon yanked the Yamato out of his hand and stripped him of his clothes. It tore his shirt, coat, pants, and boxers clean off in one swipe of its' powerful arms. Vergil, both pained and confused, could only hang there helplessly as an enormously long, phallic object emerged from between the demon's legs.

"What the-?!" You both cried in disbelief as several other, equally large demons with nearly equally sized phallic body parts gathered around Vergil.

"Oh no." You mumbled inwardly, as you realized what those objects were and what the demons were planning to do with them. You ran forwards, trying to reach Vergil before the demons did what you thought they were going to do. Sadly, your attempts were in vain. The horde of demons surrounded you, and without Vergil's help, you were unable to clear them away. The demons grabbed your arms and legs and held you still while the demon holding Vergil forced its cock into his mouth; Vergil gagged and choked, flailing about wildly. A few minutes later, other demons thrusted their cocks into Vergil's ass one by one. Soon, each demon began pounding him ruthlessly; he'd get one thrust from one creature, then another demon had it's turn, and so on. Vergil yelled in anguish as the demons defiled him, but his cries were unfortnately muffled by the huge demon cock shoved down his throat. He kicked and thrashed, but the demons simply grabbed hold of his limbs and snapped them. Meanwhile, you were held captive by the demons surrounding you, forced to watch as your beloved Vergil was violated over and over again--forced to watch as his body was literally torn apart. The creatures ripped off his arms and legs the way a child rips apart paper dolls. They shoved their dicks into him, tearing apart his organs from the inside out. They scratched at him with their claws, ripping his skin; adding to his pain.

You struggled, trying to break free so you could rescue your lover-or at least what was left of him. "VERGIL!!!" You screamed, but you were just as helpless as he was.

Once the monsters had their fun, they dropped the remains of your lover's broken, bleeding body on the ground and scampered back to whatever depths of hell they cake from.

"Vergil!" You sobbed, running towards him.

"Y/N...." He slowly turned his head towards you, staring up at you with his beautiful blue eyes--eyes that despite his agony, glowed with a deep affection for you.

"Listen to me, baby." His voice sounded raspy; his throat was torn and ruined from the demons' abuse. "Look at me." He managed to force a smile through all his pain. "I love you. I love you so much. I will always love you." You nodded, tearfully peppering his handsome face with kisses.

"I love you too, Verg. I love you too." Vergil smiled at you in that adorable way he always did.

"My Y/N....my baby girl...." You could see the life in his eyes was fading. You were losing him.

"No, no, please don't leave me." You begged, holding onto him with all your strength. "Please!" Vergil took in a shuddering, raspy breath.

"I want you to know...I'll love you...forever."

You shook your head fervently.

"No! No, stay with me, please." Despite your pleas, you knew there was no way he could stay alive much longer. He'd lost all his limbs and so much blood--it was a miracle he'd lasted this long. Tears spilling from your eyes, you cupped his bloody cheeks and kissed him on the lips, one last time. "I love you, Vergil. I always will."

With a pained, exhausted sigh, Vergil took one last look at his baby, then shut his eyes and was still.

[bigassmoonchild]

Maple Syrup Masterlist

THIS SERIES IS COMPLETED

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Total Parts: 17

Total Word Count: ~43.3k

Summary: A mission that was supposed to be easy doesn't go your way, but when does it ever when the 141 is involved? Aphrodisiacs that were incredibly powerful were used on yourself and Simon, and with one accident it took over your lives. Now, you need to figure out how to go about life as a newly mated Omega in a world made for Alphas.

Content Tags: Smut, Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen, Fuck or Die, Heat, Rut, Angst, Knotting, PIV Sex, Biting, Hurt/No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Pregnancy, Kinda Pregnancy Loss, Teasing, Use of Pet-Names, Simon is shit at talking and emotions, He figures it out tho, Dropping of the L word, Near Death, Pregnancy, Vomiting, Task Force 141 is a Pack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: I just wanted to make sure anyone who needed (or wanted) to have a one-stop shop for the Maple Syrup series (and drabbles pertaining to it) can have it. Please send me asks! Masterlist under the Cut!

🧼 = smut, 🧸 = angst, 💞 = fluff

Main Storyline:

Part 1: Maple Syrup 🧼

Part 2: The Aftermath 🧸

Part 3: Alpha, Please 🧼💞

Part 4: Feral 💞

Part 5: The Hearing 🧸

Part 6: Talk 🧸

Part 7: Lost and Found 🧸 💞

Part 8: Hot and Cold 🧼 🧸

Part 9: Hoops 🧸

Part 10: Thirteen 🧸

Part 11: Tags 🧸

Part 12: Ghost 🧸

Part 13: Tea 🧸💞🧼

Part 14: Meetings 🧸💞

Part 15: Tears 🧸💞

Part 16: Nothing 🧸

Part 17: Happy 💞🧸

Drabbles, Oneshots, Side-Stories:

Simons Rut 🧼

Headcannons 💞🧸🧼

[uncanny-tranny]

Okay, are belly button piercings "trashy," or do you just associate them with femininity, or women, or sex work and strike it down as inherently less worthy? Are 'tramp stamps' "trashy", or do you just associate them with femininity, or women, or sex work and strike it down as inherently less worthy? Is pole dance "trashy", or do you associate it with women, or sex work and strike it down as inherently less worthy?

These are examples, but I find it interesting when people link things with womanhood or femininity or - gasp! - sex work and then immediately condemn, scrutinize, and dehumanize those who even dapple a little in these things, even if it isn't for sex work or to "look trashy." It's funny how the feminine or woman is seen as trashy until proven otherwise, and it's shameful that people still hold the bias that women must prove their humanity by not "being trashy" or "acting like a hooker."

[backpackingspace]

I am once again thinking about how odysseus who witnessed the horrors that the captured women went through (one of his main duties in the iliad was taking the women back home and making sure they were as comfortable as possible and safe because he was the only one trusted not to violate them further due to his devotion to penelope. And in the odyssey part of the reason circe sent him to the underworld was so that he'd have to listen to all these women's stories (before he could talk to the prophet) ). Who was one of the few that saw women as people and respected their space and opinions. And was then put in those exact same situations. I don't have the motivation right now to do a full literary analysis of this (I'll site the sources too) but oh man one day I'm going to write a full essay on this.

[boyfriendgideon]

as yr favorite local jason todd fan sometimes i get so fed up with the apparent inability of most dc comic writers to write a class conscious narrative about him.

and yes, i know that comics are a very ephemeral and constantly evolving and self-conflicting medium.

and yes, i know they’re a profit-driven art medium created in a capitalistic society, so there are very few times where comics are going to be created solely out of the desire to authentically and carefully and deliberately represent a character and take them from one emotional narrative place to another, because dc cares about profit and sometimes playing it safe is what sells.

and yes, i know comics and other forms of art reflect and recreate the society within which they were conceived as ideas, and so the dominant societal ideas about gender and race and class and so on are going to be recreated within comics (and/or will be responded to, if the writer is particularly societally conscious).

but jesus christ. you (the writer/writers) have a working class character who has been homeless, who has lost multiple parents, who has been in close proximity to someone struggling with addiction, who has had to steal to survive, who may have (depending on your reading of several different moments across different comics created by different people) been a victim of csa, who has clearly (subtextually) struggled with his mental health, who was a victim of a violent murder, and who has an entirely distinct and unique perspective on justice that has evolved based on his lived experiences.

and instead of delving into any of that, or examining the myriad of ways that classism in the writers’ room and the editors’ room and the readers’ heads affected jason’s character to make sure you’re writing him responsibly, or giving him a plotline where his views on what justice looks like are challenged by another working class character, or allowing him to demonstrate actual autonomy and agency in deciding what relationships he wants to have with people who he loves but sees as having failed him in different ways, or thinking carefully about what his having chosen an alias that once belonged to his murderer says about his decision-making and motivations, you keep him stuck in a loop of going by the red hood, addressing crime by occupying a position of relative power that perpetuates crime & harm rather than ever getting at the root causes, and seesawing between a) agreeing with his adoptive family entirely about fighting nonlethally in ways that are often inconsistent with his apparent motivations or b) disagreeing and experiencing unnecessarily brutal and violent reactions from his adoptive father as if that kind of violence isn’t the kind of thing he experienced as a child and something bruce himself is trying to prevent jason from perpetuating. because a comic with red hood, quips, high stakes, and familial drama sells.

it doesn’t matter if it keeps jason trapped, torn between an unanswered moral and philosophical question, a collection of identities that no longer fit him, and a family that accepts him circumstantially. it doesn’t matter if jason’s characterization is so utterly inconsistent that the only way to mesh it together is to piece different aspects of different titles and plotlines together like a jigsaw. it doesn’t matter if you do a disservice to his character, because in the end you don’t want to transform him or even understand him deeply enough to identify what makes him compelling and focus on that.

and i love jason!!!!! i love him. and i think about the stories we could have, if quality and art and doing justice to the character were prioritized as much as selling a title and having a dark and brooding batfam member besides bruce just to be the black sheep character are prioritized. and i just get a little sad.

[dootznbootz]

I went on tiktok to just watch some silly Odysseus videos but then I mostly saw people going like "Yeah, maybe Odysseus cried on Calypso' island every day but honestly he had that coming after what he did Achilles and Patroclous/Circe!!!" and "Everything that happens in Odyssey is deserved cuz he took Patrochilles to war!!!" and "I feel so bad for Circe and Calypso and Penelope, they deserved better!!!"

For fucks sake I beg you, read anything different from Millers bs and like educate yourself- And please stop goddamn saying that rape victim. deserved it.

Circe probably didn't give a flying fuck, Calypso is a rapist and abuser and Penelope deserved everything she wanted and SHE WANTED ODYSSEUS

I think I've had enough internet for today, imma go wash my eyes with bleach. Anyways sorry for ranting here, i hope you don't mind it lmao

It's alright. I absolutely understand the vents about the whole thing. :'D No one deserves to be a victim of such a thing no matter WHAT they've done. I hope your eyes are okay after the bleach

Like Odysseus does so many fucked up things but Calypso and Circe? He is the victim. Period. It's very clear that Odysseus is in extreme distress on Ogygia. And Circe wasn't some sort of FwB situation. There's fear and numbness in the language he uses when talking about it. There's so much victim blaming and it SUCKS.

Even then, Odysseus' journey was kind of about "temptation" or just straight up "Die or get out of my sea." From Poseidon. "I don't want you in my waters so I'm gonna try and give you things that will keep you on land or just kill you."

Immortal goddesses wanting you would be many people's dream come true but not for Odysseus. And I think that's the point. His determination, how he clawed his way back into the arms he never wanted to leave in the first place, is incredible. Many people would've given up and just started a new life but he never would because no life he could ever create would compare to the life he had before. Even if it's different, it's what he's always wanted.

He literally tells Calypso "I'm not stopping until I'm home. I don't care if I suffer more until I do. I'm going home."

“Mighty goddess, do not be angry with me over this. I myself know very well Penelope, although intelligent, is not your match                                          to look at, not in stature or in beauty. But she’s a human being and you’re a god. You’ll never die or age. But still I wish, every moment to get back to my home,                                                       to see the day of my return. And so, even if out there on the wine-dark sea some god breaks me apart, I will go on— the heart here in my chest is quite prepared to bear affliction. I’ve already had so many troubles, and I’ve worked so hard                                  through waves and warfare. Let what’s yet to come be added in with those.”

(Book 5, Johnston)

Circe's a goddess and what happened is nothing like Dionysus and Ariadne and Apollo and Hyacinthus for example. Circe never gave Odysseus a crown of stars and he would never go out of his way to kill 120 people for bothering her. They did not love each other and he can't refuse as she's a goddess.

If you interpret them sleeping together the entire year,(It's only explicitly said that they had sex once so that's what I go with personally.) that doesn't mean he was happy with it! Even then, the whole situation is not what a healthy FwB should look like! I'm asexual and even I know that no one in a FwB situation should have to BEG in any way that basically says "Please let me go or kill me" with supplication!!! The fact that he leaves so quickly he forgets one of his men? The fact that during Elpenor's funeral, he doesn't greet Circe himself? He was avoiding her. Wouldn't he want to get "one last night together" during Book 12 if they were fwb? 🙄

It's bonkers to me that people hate him for being a "cheater" when A.) having multiple lovers wasn't uncommon in Ancient Greece, and B.) the two people he is explicitly said to have "cheated" with, weren't his choice. He wasn't actively searching for pretty women either!!!

As mentioned, while it was common for men to have many lovers, Odysseus never had any listed unlike some of the other men. (not bashing any of them. I'm just making a point in comparison.) He also has no other children besides Telemachus in Homer's works. There's no evidence of him having other lovers other than speculation. (funny enough, I once read somewhere that the reason why Odysseus is so mean is because he doesn't "bond" enough with the other soldiers. 😂)

Does that mean he didn't have other lovers? Technically, Nope! It's just never explicitly stated either way. He has slaves but none were ever said to be concubines or that he sleeps with them. He has deep bonds with his fellow soldiers but that doesn't mean he sleeps with them. That doesn't mean people can't write or talk about him doing so even though it's not mentioned! Just like it also means that someone can write him not doing so as there's nothing that says it either way in Homer's Works! :D

It's fucked up when people say "He didn't try to leave Calypso enough" or something of the like. It just tells you how A.) they didn't read the Odyssey or have piss on the poor reading comprehension or B.) ...you should probably stay away from that person...

With Circe though??? I can understand the confusion but digging deeper and looking at the text, he wasn't having a good time. Or at the very least was walking on Eggshells the whole time. I hate bringing up that essay over and over again but like...I literally wrote everything there.

I also don't like how people take Circe's morally gray-ness away from her. Let her do something fucked up to be fucked up!!! Let her traumatize Odysseus!

Idk, I kind of hate that I'm "known" for this but I relate to this idiot asshole a lot and it means a lot to me that his story, despite what happens to him, has a happy ending :'D

[opossumanon]

Asexuality in fanfiction (Please read tags for warnings yall)

The awkward thing about asexuality is that when reading fanfic about a character who's ace, usually the fics I read will either

Make the character not asexual

Has the character be asexual and despises sex (Which leads to that character basically being raped by their romantic interest; seriously this trope happens WAAAAAAAY more often than I'd like)

Maybe occasionally has the character's ace-ness be nuanced, but it only goes as far as "I'm bored by sex but I'm chill with doing stuff to my partner" which only shows one other way to be asexual

This particularly annoys me because I'm asexual. I probably fall into the sex-positive category. The reason I am still ace is because I do experience arousal, I would like to have sexual experiences with others (Wouldn't be the end of the world if I didn't but it's still something I'd like to do), but I don't get "turned on" by other people. Basically if someone who's hot were to walk up to me naked I wouldn't be guaranteed to have a reaction but sometimes I can just be sitting and then suddenly have the urge to do the horizontal mambo. (I know there's probably a micro label for this, I just don't give a shit)

I know my case is rare, I know that aces like me are only brought up to try and excuse asexual erasure (I fucking hate it), but I still can't help but be disappointed that the only options for asexuality (In fanfic) are being 100%, being 0%, being some version of a stone, or being raped.

What about aces like me? What about aces who aren't like me but are still different than the three types listed above?

It's funny too cuz I remember this one fic that had smut between two characters (Consensual and both parties actually enjoyed it), one of which is ace in his original/comic book form, and the writer was all "I feel bad cuz [character] is ace in the comics and us aces get so little rep already" and I'm wondering how the author, who's ace themself, forgot about how asexuality is a spectrum?

You can have an ace character who gets horny and likes sex but just doesn't get turned on by people!

You can have an ace character who doesn't want anything to do with sex 99% of the time, but every once in a blue moon decides they want to roll in the sheets with their partner that night!

You can have an ace character who only gets aroused in specific circumstances, such as how long they've known the object of their arousal for!

Asexuality is such a wide spectrum that includes so much nuance, and seeing fic writers basically spit on it is so disheartening as a writer myself. One of the main ingredients to being a good writer, in my personal opinion, is to be able to take an aspect of your character and explore it/redefine it/expand on it in a way that satisfies the story!!!!

I don't know how to end this post tbh, I just wanna say that asexuality is more than three subtypes and you're allowed to narrow in on certain parts of the spectrum for your character, regardless of how "well-known" that part you're focusing on might be.

[zay-does-things]

I'm sorry, NORDIC BUNNY'S A TUMBLR SEXYMAN?!

Fellas is it weird to simp for a guitar

[digenerate-trash]

everybody only ever wanna talk about yan bailey…nobody wanna talk about yan avery making you cockwarm him while he sits at his desk working or suck him off while he’s on a business call…. 💔💔💔

(you're so right. wheres the love for my terrible man with all the money in the world???)

AMAB Avery | GN pc

Avery bringing you to the office as a treat for the day. He introduces you to everyone and they all comment on how polite and quiet you are. He loves that about you. You're the perfect little socialite.

Several people comment on the skirt Avery made you wear. Some even say how much it suits you with a wink. Avery's hand on your shoulder gets tighter at these responses but he's still proud and happy with you as he leads you to his office. It's flashy and nice. With a beautiful view that overlooks the shoreline. Not that you get to look at it before Avery is pulling you into his lap.

His hands reach down under the skirt his lean fingers tracing over your bare skin. His hands are cold and it makes you whimper as he slides a finger inside of you. You're barely ready for it tight and uncomfortable as Avery prepares you.

He's happy to keep fingering you as he looks over his work. Every time he hits a sweatspot you whimper and he hushes you gently. He presses more fingers in as well just to tease you and keep you spread for him. After he's satisfied with that he unzips his pants and teases your hole with his cock he leans you over his desk and takes his time pressing just the tip against you popping the head in and out of your entrance until he can't stand it anymore and he eases you on his cock.

He lets you stay like that for way too long while he works. He lets you squirm and readjust as much as you like. Avery prides himself on his self-control. As you lean back against him your face flushed. Your hands covering your mouth to stop your moans. This is much better than any date he could have taken you on. This way he gets to be entertained and continue his work.

Eventually, though he leans you forward again and starts to thrust in and out of you slowly. He presses you down into the desk by your neck and urges you to be quiet. People are working after all. Your hips are starting to get bruised with every bump against the desk and when you both finally cum you are spent. But Avery still wants more.

He pushes you down to your knees under the desk and urges your face into his crotch demanding you clean him up

"I have a meeting in here in 5 minutes. So try to be quiet." 

[boywifesammy]

i think sam and dean’s relationship with sex in the early seasons is so interesting because it’s so vastly different yet both indicative of abuse.

dean sees his body as an object; a weapon, a tool. he has no say in his own life. he thinks he’s just alive to serve his purpose. he buzzes his hair military short and dresses just like his father to gain his approval, while john always treated dean as a means to an end. he was told to take care of sammy, and dragged along to hunts, and given orders like he was nothing but a robot. if sam got hurt, it was his fault. if he got hurt, he wasn’t fast enough. he’s taught to put himself in harms way constantly, that his body is worth nothing, that a few more scars mean nothing if he obeys his order. daddy’s blunt little instrument indeed.

dean is comfortable in his own body because he doesn’t place value on his own life. it’s why he’s so nonchalant about sex. he’s using his body to make himself feel good, and make others feel good, so he doesn’t see the problem. sam teases him about being a horndog but dean genuinely doesn’t care about what happens to him. it’s not just with sex. he constantly sacrifices himself, he’ll put himself in harms way instantly if it means saving someone he loves. he complains about his physical appearance but never once hesitates to disfigure it if it means someone else will be saved the misfortune.

sam, on the other hand, has a different understanding of his body. he doesn’t fit inside of it. his entire life, he’s been the odd one out, the wrong one, the one who just couldn’t conform. he fights with his father about hunting. he has demon blood in him. he’s lucifer’s vessel. he’s an abomination, he’s damned, his very flesh and blood is something rotten. he doesn’t see any purpose in his existence so he tries to find value in his body, because he doesn’t think there’s anything of value in his soul.

this isn’t even mentioning sam’s past with manipulation. both dean and john most definitely manipulated sam in the past, even if it was from a place of good will to keep him safe. john lied about mary’s deal his entire life. dean keeps plenty of secrets, like the demon deal and john’s last words, under the guise that it would hurt sam. sam’s entire life was a lie, all a buildup to the apocalypse. the first woman he ever loved died on the ceiling just like his mother, and he was convinced it was his fault both times. sam has been taught that he hurts everyone he loves. that’s he’s intrinsically dangerous and he curses the people close to him to suffering, or death, or worse.

sam has a difficult relationship with sex because he’s scared. scared to trust someone with something so intimate and scared that he’ll infect them with whatever awful thing is inside of him. this is why ruby’s arc is so heartbreaking. dean can immediately recognize that sam is being taken advantage of. he has a very black and white understanding of who is good and trustworthy vs who is evil and a monster. sam, on the other hand, knows that it isn’t so cut and dry. he still loves dean, even though he isn’t always the best to him. he still cares for his dad, even if he wants sam dead. he still wants to believe in a higher power, even though he’s cursed. so of course sam trusted ruby. he’s an abuse victim. he’s vulnerable. he was at his wits end, and ruby took that to her advantage. she victim blamed him. gaslit him. took advantage of his need for emotional intimacy and sexually assaulted him.

dean can’t understand sam’s aversion to sex because he sees it as a purely materialistic thing, and his body a mere object. his relationship with romance is so horribly warped. dean doesn’t care about being taken advantage of, because his whole life his father’s taken advantage of his obedience. he’s just a means to end. it doesn’t matter what happens to his body, because he doesn’t matter anyway.

sam can’t understand dean’s hypersexuality because he’s hyperfixated on having control of himself. he desperately wants to regain some sense of ownership of his body. he hates intimacy because it opens him up to vulnerability. to him, his body is diseased, and it’s a danger to anyone who he’s intimate with.

dean sees sex as self-hating pleasure, a way to be useful. sam sees sex as self-hating punishment. in a certain way, they’re more similar than the show makes them out to be.

[anemonemidi]

mooninites....... but they're GIRLS???!

[backpackingspace]

Okay but consider post Canon over protective Athena who is sick to death of her most devout being raped.

Athena sticking close to the whole family and promising penelope that she'll keep a close eye on odysseus the first time he has to go into the market and penelope can't go with him. (She was going to go anyway. She's never actually going to let any of them out of her sight ever again. And it's an easy promise to her dearest weaver who seems so distressed to have odysseus leaving her side.)

Athena fully manifesting in the market when someone grabs odysseus with godly flashes of snakes and owls and the drums of war to scream /release him/ (odysseus is feeling indulgent for both his patron and his wife it's so cute that they're this worried it's not like he couldn't defend himself just fine. Especially from whatever poor fuck just grabbed him who definitely doesn't deserve a goddess screaming in his face. Hes trying so hard not to laugh if he did athena would send him flying.)

Athena telling all the other gods that yes she knows odysseus is the favorite barbie doll she choose him well after all and to back the fuck off if any of them bother him again they will have made an enemy of her.

Athena disguising odysseus only as an old beggar from here on out instead of an irresistibly tall and handsome man. Because she saw how uncomfortable nausicaa's attention made him.

[ravenzeppeli]

🩸Not A Fair Punishment |Risotto x Reader Dark Lemon|

Warning: this one shot is a dark lemon, containing dark themes. this one shot is rated MA, only for 18+. this one shot contains noncon (period), humiliation, vibrator torture, mental abuse, threats, strong language, suicide mention, as well as blood.

      "If you wouldn't have disobeyed him then you wouldn't be in this situation," Prosciutto muttered as he crouched down in front of you, placing his soft fingers under your chin, raising your trembling head. No- your entire body was trembling. "You can't go behind our back Y/N, it isn't okay." His face was stern yet soft at the same time, his blue eyes staring at you, thankfully not trailing down to look at your nude body. He wasn't like that.. you respected him for that.

       You've been on your knees for hours, vibrator on high plunged deep inside of your womanhood, not giving you a single second of a break. Your hands were balled into fists, resting on the red carpet of Risotto's office floor. His desk was in front, the desk that he made you kneel in front of as he lectured you on the dangers of going behind his back, then leaving you here with Prosciutto to further your embarrassment. All you did was complete a mission that Polpo commanded you do alone- you were just doing your fucking job and this was what you got.

      He confronted you days after the mission, right when your period started like he was waiting. He knew that you would listen to him because you respected him deeply, just as you would listen if you were left with Prosciutto. It was a deep betrayal of your love and trust, using the love that you had against you. Fuck.. it worked. Tears finally filled your eyes as you stared at Prosciutto- you felt yourself breaking.

      Period blood stained the vibrator and the red carpet beneath you- the vibrator's gentle hum ringing throughout your ears, driving you as mad as the feeling of it inside of you, unmoving and fucking frustrating. "I was doing my job, I don't deserve to be humiliated in front of you! What if everyone finds out and I'm humiliated more, they already think I'm weak and now they're going to do this to me too!" You sobbed, snatching your face away from his gentle grasp, ashamed to even be touched. "Don't touch me!"

       "Risotto and I aren't going to tell anyone- I already asked him to agree to that one condition if I agreed to watch you. They aren't going to fuck you, don't be scared," he said softly, placing his hand on your bare shoulder.

       "You'll never see me the same again- you will look at me and always see this! I'm.. I'm going to kill myself! I can't live with this humiliation!" You screamed, feeling yourself go mad from the hours spent having to do this.. it hurt. Your knees stung, red from carpet burn due to hours of kneeling but Risotto didn't give a fuck about that. Your were making a bloody mess all over yourself and the vibrator was starting to hurt, your pussy cramping from the discomfort that it was causing. You.. you couldn't do this anymore.

       Just as you ended your final sentence Risotto entered, his red eyes and black sclera landing right on you as soon as he entered. His thin white brows pulled into a scowl, perfectly chiseled face still so beautiful even as his entire face twisted into anger.. but it was a calm anger. Always, he knew how to compose himself. "Thank you for watching her Prosciutto, I think I'm going to take over now."

      Prosciutto sighed, lifting your head up with a little more force, making sure that you couldn't snatch your head away. He didn't look at you with angry, his face completely calm. "I will never look at you any different Y/N, we are friends and we always will be. This.. pretend it never happened once it's over and please just listen and behave. Don't say or do anymore foolish things," he muttered, light beads of sweat forming on his smooth forehead as he pulled away from you, standing up. He ran a hand through his short blond locks, pushing down the few out of place strains as he walked by Risotto, nodding his head as he left, leaving you to be fucking tortured more.

     As soon as the door closed your head dropped to the floor, low sobs escaping your mouth as fear coursed throughout your entire quivering naked body. This was a fear that was at least eased when Prosciutto around because he always tried so protect you- even while having sex with him he was gentle. You felt at ease around him and to have that leave and your furious boss enter- the one who was punishing you in the first place.. you felt that ease fade away. You could only fear him right now, not feeling an ounce of the love that you always feel for him.

      "I'll beat the shit out of you if you ever threaten to kill yourself again. If you attempt to kill yourself I'll find you and make you regret attempting something so fucking foolish," he hissed sharply, his deep voice making you visibly flinch. His footsteps were silent but you felt him coming, his tall shadow casting over you, staring at how pathetic you were. "If you complete a mission alone then you tell me beforehand so I know where you are. If you get fucking killed your blood will be in my hands and my hands are already filthy enough."

       Sorbet and Gelato, you though, not daring to say their names because Risotto commanded you all to never speak of them again. Forget that they ever existed but the chair they sat in remains cold and untouched, like Sorbet and Gelato would be one day filling those seats again, complaining right along with Ghiacco about how you are the most underpaid and under appreciated in the familia. The blood of them, it didn't just stain his hands- it stayed your entire teams. A fallen teammate meant a lost family member, your team was your family.

      You shook your head, tears clouding your vision and snot running down your nose, trailing down your chin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect you but he told me not to tell you! I-I didn't mean any harm, why are you doing this to me!" You yelled, slamming your fist against the carpet, punching the ground. "I can't do this anymore, I can't take it!" The pain in your now red knuckles.. it wasn't taking away from the pain you felt from the vibrator. So many hours.. you rather be dead.

       "Don't you let this happen again.. I won't be so generous next time." He crouched in front of you, reaching between your legs, turning it off as he slowly pulled it out of you, the period blood providing a slick entrance and leave but it still was embarrassing. "Turn around and stick your ass in the air. I'm going to fuck you, understand? We've had sex plenty of times so stop being scared."

     "You're going to hurt me, I don't want you to hurt me! Please just let me go, I'm so scared. I learned my lesson," you sobbed, trembling becoming violent as you tried to scoot away from him, being stopped by his large hand wrapping around your wrist, holding you firm in place. "No," you cried softly, lowering your head even further so he couldn't see your face, your hair providing a curtain.

     He sighed, "I'm going to be as gentle as possible. Having that vibrator in you and Prosciutto watch you was your punishment, now I just want to fuck you because seeing you naked makes my dick hard. Look me in the eyes, don't hide your face from me. I'm not a monster.. I did what I had to do in order to teach you a lesson that you needed to learn." His grip on your wrist loosened, leaving you room to snatch yourself away but you didn't.

      You looked up at him, letting him see your disgusting face. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying tears that still leaked from your eyes- snot still running from your nose, dripping down your chin because you didn't bother to wipe it. "I'm on my period, it's gross," you whispered, staring at him with a helpless stare, hoping that he would show mercy on you.

       Risotto let go of your wrist, dropping his hand to your womanhood, shoving to fingers inside of you. "I'm a grown ass man, I'm not scared of period blood," he said sharply, pulling his fingers out of you, raising the bloody fingers to his mouth. He kept eye contact with you, two drops of blood running down his hands as he stuck the two bloody fingers in his mouth, licking them clean. "Bend over, I'll be quick and I'll give you a bath and keep you in my bed tonight. Just don't tell the others.. I don't want them knowing a thing except for Prosciutto."

       Your eyes widened, face turning a bright red before you quickly turned over, spreading your legs and sticking your ass out, arching your back. You let a pained groan escape your lips as he instantly entered you, his massive cock slowly pushing in and out of you, your blood providing lubricant. His right hand brushed through your hair gently, left arm snaking around your waist.

     "I have to protect you, I have to keep you safe so please understand that. The bond that I have with you is so strong that I'll instantly fall apart if you die and so will Prosciutto," he whispered as if someone other then yourself was listening but nobody was- the apartment was completely empty, only holding the two of you. "I'm not sorry for what I did and I would do it again if you crossed me again, but next time I'll put one in your ass as well so both holes will be bleeding. Don't let that happen," he thrusted three times before cuming inside of you, being quick and gentle as he promised.

      You closed your eyes, not feeling a single ounce of pleasure from any of this. Being tortured like this didn't turn you on, it made your pussy cramp, lips swollen and throbbing. You liked gentle sex with Risotto, not humiliating period sex.. this humiliation would always be with you. You couldn't forget because this was going to be too hard to forget. One small mistake and you suffered lasting effects..

      He pulled out of you, his forehead resting on your shoulder, silver hair gently tickling your shoulder blade. "Every thing I do, I do it for you," he muttered, arms tightly wrapping around your waist. "You're mine.. you won't be dying anytime soon on Prosciutto and I."

[hungergamesheadcanons]

Touch Starved

Katniss didn't know when she first noticed it, but she actually started thinking about it when they were in District 13.

Finnick had always been somewhat of an odd character, from the obnoxious flirting to poorly veiled innuendos. The juxtaposition of the noose around his neck and his eyes, wide with faux innocence, asking if she wanted to take him for a walk, was always one thing that came to mind. She didn't know if Finnick had an ulterior motive with that statement (she may just not be observant enough to pick up on it, she admitted to herself), or if it was just Finnick filling the silence the only way he knew how, but he had always seemed just slightly off. Like a house with only one light on - somebody's home, but maybe not everybody.

So a lot of Finnick's more... peculiar actions, Katniss just wrote off. Like his poorly timed flirty jokes in moments of silence, or the way he flinched away from other people touching him before seemingly correcting himself with a laugh and a wink. It was just quintessentially Finnick, she had believed, likely due to him being a Victor. No one got out of the arena unscarred, even Capitol favourites.

But while Katniss and Finnick resided in shared hospital rooms ('the loopy lounge,' Finnick had remarked humorlessly, when she once again broke the rules and decided to sit in his room, 'ooh look at the fan-favourite Victors, broken at last.'), Katniss had noticed some behaviours that were more than a little odd. As in, concerning levels of odd.

Finnick was always wrapped in something. A blanket, a jacket, the sheets off his bed - he always had something wrapped around his shoulders. And he slept with a pillow between his arms, clutched tight to his chest even as he tossed and turned in his sleep. And despite how much he slept, he never seemed well-rested, bags underneath sea-green eyes that were so dark she could see them through the glass separating them.

But what really stuck with her was when they were... oh what had Finnick called it? Trauma-dumping? Finnick was talking about Annie, how she was not quite as crazy as the Capitol and Districts thought, but how she had started relying on him when her mind wasn't fully there. He had gone into a spiral, hands knotting the rope faster and faster as he started panicking about what they were doing to her, and even though Katniss didn't necessarily consider them friendly - more than acquaintances, probably in friendly territory but still more akin to allies right now - she had slung her arm around his shoulders in a weak attempt at comfort.

After all, they were both going through the same thing right now.

But what had struck her as odd was his reaction. Instead of just acknowledging her half-hug, or even ignoring it, Finnick's body had completely seized up. At first she had thought he didn't want the touch, and was preparing to remove her arm as naturally as possible so he didn't feel bad, but then he practically melted, body sagging and head leaning on her shoulder like all the energy had been sucked out of him. Katniss hadn't known what to do, so she just kept her arm there, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder like she did for Prim until he fell asleep, quiet snuffles the only sound in the hallway. Even then, she waited a minute until she guided him back down to the bed, letting him actually rest even as she slipped back to her room.

That was another weird thing about Finnick - the lack of snoring. Maybe his body had adjusted to sleeping quietly in the past? Even Prim snored louder than Finnick.

But that was beside the point.

Katniss had confided in Prim about it, her confusion over what had happened. She hated to put this on her younger sister, but to be entirely fair, Prim had far more medical knowledge than she. And, kudos to her, Prim had reported Katniss's concerns to the doctor, who ran some more tests on poor Finnick, and another little note was added to his file.

Touch-Starvation.

"It's also known as Affection Deprivation, or Skin Hunger," Prim had whispered to her, braiding her hair while Finnick had another doctor taking him through the ins and outs of the condition. "Basically it happens when you go without skin-to-skin contact for ages."

"He's Finnick Odair," Katniss had stated, confused, "he's had plenty of skin-to-skin contact."

"Not that kind," Prim shook her head, "genuine affection, like familial and platonic bonds. Not people looking to latch onto the newest, prettiest thing on the block. In fact, the doctor hypothesised that the lack of true affection, or even just genuine affection, made it worse."

And didn't that just make Katniss feel like a piece of shit. The following list of symptoms Prim reeled off (loneliness, depression, fatigue, decreased life satisfaction, problems sleeping, stress, anxiety) and signs of touch starvation (long showers and baths, wrapping up in blankets, cuddling cushions or stuffed toys or pets) just felt like another stab in the wound, because they had all been there. Or most of them. But it had all been attributed to something else.

The depression to Annie's capture. The fatigue to getting out of the arena, same with the issues sleeping. Stress, anxiety, decreased life satisfaction were all linked back to the arena and life as a victor, not to anything else. And they may not have been wrong, but to see so many factors that had been present, and yet no one thought to link it, just felt nasty.

She snuck back into Finnick's room later, the man still covered in blankets, except this time he had a heavier one some doctor had given to him, claiming it would help. She didn't know if it would work, and wasn't going to ask, but he didn't look up at her as she entered, so she knew he was running through everything in his mind.

"How long?" She asked, hoping he'd pick up on the hidden question.

How long have you been without affection? How long since the only touch you had was sexual? How long have you been deprived?

"10 years since I've had touch without any underlying expectations." He mumbled, voice cracking a little. "That's what the doctor said. Haven't had anything... consistent, since before my games - or my first one, at any rate. Just sex. Well, rape, he told me to call it. Forced prostitution and all that. Apparently calling it sex, or clients, allows me to 'mask what's been done to me' and I need to 'face it'." Finnick rolled his eyes. "Easy for him to say. He's not in grippy-sock central."

Fuck. 10 years. Since he was 14.

... Prim was only 13, and Katniss couldn't imagine not giving her a hug, or a headpat, or a cuddle, for 10 years.

"Your parents? Siblings?" She asked, and Finnick pursed his lips.

"Weren't happy with my behaviour in the Capitol. Knew I was hiding something from them and retreated until I was ready to 'tell them the truth and stop being childish'." He chuckled bitterly.

She hadn't truly realised how lucky she was, until now. To have her family still stood beside her, despite the fake relationship and wedding and pregnancy. To still have Prim and her mother. Because Finnick, Finnick had practically been abandoned to the whims of the Capitol (and Katniss would be questioning him on that later, when they were out of the 'loony bin'), and Katniss had just written him off as happy with his lot at first. But she was so fucking wrong, and she didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and Finnick frowned.

"It's not your fault," he shrugged, "don't know why you're apologising."

And Katniss didn't either, but she opened her arms anyway. Finnick fell right into them after a minute of hesitation, and Katniss squeezed him tight, even as his body trembled. When he fell asleep this time, head still on her shoulder, hands clutching one of hers between them, she stayed with him all night, falling asleep in his bed and causing her doctors to panic when she wasn't in hers in the morning.

She didn't care. It's what Peeta would have done, and Katniss was tired of pretending she didn't care about others.

So she channeled Peeta's gentle spirit, even though Katniss was uncomfortable herself with giving out physical affection. Whenever Finnick seemed to be distressed, she'd hold his hand or hug him, and Finnick would gratefully reciprocate. And when they were out of the 'crazy corner', she made sure they had rooms near each other, so that they could seek each other out after nightmares and hold each other tightly, talking about their lost loves and what they wanted to do with them when they escaped.

In meetings Katniss would hold Finnick's hand, grounding him and herself so that neither of them floated away. When night came she instinctively found herself checking his room to make sure he'd fallen asleep, sometimes slipping in to offer a shoulder for him to doze on before he conked out for good. Even though he was older than her by 5 or 6 years, having someone to look after felt good, like she was actually making a difference even as she wasted time down here. Even if she couldn't persuade them to get Peeta, Johanna and Annie out, she could at least help Finnick get to sleep, and eat on time, and stay present mentally.

Gale didn't get it. She knew he didn't, because he seemed to look at Finnick like he was competition, constantly making scathing remarks at his Capitol's Golden Boy title that caused Katniss to cringe. He once referred to him as the Capitol's Whore, a title Katniss had heard repeated in the Seam before but now caused her to seethe with unbridled rage. She had taken her revenge by cuddling with Finnick in her room, knowing both Gale and Prim were talking in there about some sort of plan or another. Petty, she knew, but watching Gale glare at an oblivious Finnick made her feel better.

Haymitch didn't get it either, until she explained it to him. He had been concerned Katniss was falling in love with Finnick, and Katniss had been forced to explain to the man about touch starvation and the effects. He had been relieved when Katniss had said it was purely platonic, as even though Haymitch liked both of them, he would not have been happy that they were betraying Peeta (and by extension, Annie) like that. Katniss pretended not to notice how Haymitch now gave Finnick shoulder squeezes whenever he passed, along with mocking head pats when he spoke in meetings.

The man was such a softy, even if he'd never admit it.

Even Prim, who had never known Finnick until 13, had stepped up to the plate. Once Katniss had started hanging out with Finnick more often, Prim had followed, bringing Buttercup along for the ride. The two had bonded over the cat, Prim placing him in Finnick's lap for the man to stroke. Even though Buttercup was a nightmare, the cat seemed to recognise that Finnick needed an outlet, as he sat and let the man stroke him for hours on end. And Prim would help brush Finnick's pretty bronze hair out, and would ask him for help with things like skincare. Where he had found it, Katniss didn't know, but she once walked into the two of them applying some kind of face mask on each other, Finnick's face cradled in Prim's small hands as she smeared a pink goop onto his face ever so gently.

Things weren't perfect. Sometimes he still couldn't physically sleep, while other times he could barely wake up. Some days he still flinched away from touch, while others you couldn't tear him away from whoever's shoulder he'd buried himself in.

But it was a start.

[some-fucking-fox]

this is (to the best of my recall) an overview of the night that I had last night with Mommy. We went upstairs to go play together and after a briefing and prep we got all cuddly and cozy in bed while Mommy finished messages and teased us relentlessly. She finished her messages and get closer and still teasing us held up our silly little physick, a mix of cannabis and other such things in a disposable vape, that she mixed up special for us for some of my medical needs. She held it up to my mouth until I got one big very hit and immediately felt it starting to hit and things were very silly very quickly. She did it again and I got another pretty big hit and things continued to be silly for me. Mommy started working on teasing my parts harder and made it really really hard to think let alone speak and then I got a hit from her pen. This pen has an alchemical mix that's suited for her tolerance level which is several orders of magnitude to mine. Like, at least 3 to 4 orders of magnitude more than mine.

It was around this point that moving got really hard too. The entire time that we were playing though Mommy was whispering the dirtiest things to me and teasing my butt a lot. She teased me about dryness and not being big enough for panties yet Like y'all I'm pretty sure that I came half a dozen times from humping her leg alone. After a what could've been 3 minutes or 3 hours period of time Mommy got me on my back with my legs up and panties off and that was when the fun really began. With me folded like that Mommy had a really good position to just slide into me with little to no resistance and within 5 strokes Mommy was hilting me fully. This is also without warmup beyond perineum teasing as a note.

Mommy pounded me hard, so hard that I had to brace against the wall to make sure I didn't get a concussion from being used so hard. She pushed down on my breed me buttons so hard it feels like I'm going to be bruised in those spots for a while. Mommy finished in me and stayed in me until she was sure that we'd have the best chance to get me full of a litter of her pups. I squeezed every drop of her cum out of her and she stayed in me a moment or two longer at which point she started working my bits and slowly muffing me gradually faster and faster. I genuinely had no idea that it was muffing until I was writing this and Mommy told me. Words were something that I couldn't do at all and moving got too challenging for me to do much of anything beyond tapping on her leg with my hand to let her know that I was overstimulated and needed done.

Mommy pulled out of me slowly and helped me get comfy and somewhat cleaned up to the point that I could just lay there. adjusting to get on my side was a challenge so getting up to go pee was *entirely* out of the question. It was at this point that memory is entirely gone to me as I only remember waking up and feeling the sensory aftermath. One of the other things I remember that Mommy said to me was something along the lines of "I'm surprised that you're so dry, you seemed so needy like you needed a change or something." and "your panties are only for cummies and drippies, we can't have you wetting your panties or else I'll have to put you in diaps 24/7 if you can't control yourself"

Y'all, my freaking gods, that was soooooo good. I lost count of how many times I came after I hit the double digits. Holy cats