#women had one area they were absolutely dominating in

[abortionpostbirth]

I'll never stop being frustrated at how men decided they really couldn't let women have anything and needed to begin dominating the makeup industry as well.

Why would James Charles ever be on the front of CoverGirl?

Why do all these men get to have huge makeup brand deals and produce their own palettes as women are left in the dust? The greed is insane.

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ᴄᴏᴡɢɪʀʟ ʀᴏᴅᴇᴏ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni very 18+ - you ride ghost.

cowgirl. [lets hope i dont get reported for the first pic...]

simon 'ghost' riley.

previous chapter.

You were absolutely sure you’d have your neighbours file another complaint against the noises that emitted from your home, but if they were ever in your shoes and had the width of Simon Ghost Riley’s cock inside of them, sliding and pushing against the walls of their cunts, they’d be just as loud as you are.

Currently, he had been beneath you, arms locked around your lower waist as he had thrusted his hips upwards, his cock pressing against the soft sponginess of your g-spot as his mouth had been curved around your nipple, at first, you had wanted to dominate him, have him forget about the secret files you had hidden from him which commenced Ghost to remain suspicious, but there had been no other better way to make a man omit a circumstance like wetness and warmth.

In the beginning, you had been slow and agonising, and Ghost had been too impatient, taking you roughly in surprise while leaving bites around your skin, marking his territory. “So good,” he grunted, the warmth of his mouth heating against your skin ere he returned his lips around your nipples, his hands groping your buttocks as he aided you to bounce up and down his cock, “You love getting pounded by my cock, hm? Taking me so good baby doll,” his compliments then being drowned by your high moans.

“I do!” You cried out, “I do love getting pounded by your cock—” your sentence being overtaken by another high gasp as your walls clenched around him, the slick sounds of his shaft moving and throbbing inside of you, your nails dug into the bed sheets as you used all your strength to whirl your hips around his dick, drunk off sex, your body moved on its own chasing your climax while the size of his dick continued to thrust into you, milking his sticky cum inside of your cunt as he pushed a withered moan.

With your bottom lips behind your teeth, you had pressed your face between the crook of his neck as he resumed to pump his length inside of you, racing after your climax before your heat pulsed around him, clear juices spraying and coating his shaft mixed with his cum, your body had slumped against his chest, exhausted by the numerous of rounds shared with each other, Ghost had then pressed his lips against your head while his cock had slid out of your cunt.

“Tired already baby doll?” He inquired and stubborn, you had opened your eyes which had then locked with his brown ones, you had rolled your figure off his and laid beside him.

“No,” you responded.

“Care for another round---”

“Fuck off,” you replied emitting a dry laugh from him.

As you had then gotten comfortable on your bed, your back had been pressed against his chest, in ponder if Ghost had forgotten about the situation with Frazier; you could feel his chin press against the top of your head while his arm had been under your breast. You’d be stupid to think that Ghost had forgotten, but it had been your anxiety deluding you to think otherwise.

You’d also be stupid to think Ghost hadn’t forgotten what happened, though it was a great distraction.

“Fraizer…” you muttered as soon as you entered the base, there had been a couple of other women under the Black Dahlia company occupying the area, most of them greeting you as you walked past, the satisfied look on Frazier’s face unmissable as he spread his arms with appreciation.

“Baby doll,” he grinned, “excuse me, I forgot you liked being called Blade.”

Unsatisfied, you had returned the read file he had given you a couple of days ago. “I had to lie and say that I was going to get groceries, he wanted to come with me, and with the persistent energy I had, he’s ever more curious to what I’m hiding.”

“Controlling boyfriend?” Fraizer joked.

“Protective,” you corrected. “Argent had said that he’ll leave me alone for a good amount of time, why am I being assigned to this mission?”

“Because this isn’t just any type of mission, Blade,” Fraizer replied. “It’s about a fucked-up pharmaceutical making viruses and injecting them inside of people.”

“So, I’ve read,” you hummed. A pharmaceutical company known as the Puma Formation, had been creating monstrous projects out of people, transforming them into withered mutants they plan to release into the world. “This will be the last mission I do before I take my promised break.”

Fraizer had then winked at you before he spoke. “The money coming from this will be promising as well,” he commented.

-“That’ll make him extra suspicious,” you mumbled, “I don’t like lying to him all the time. Not like this.”

“We all keep secrets from each other,” Fraizer said. “Plus, you won’t have to lie as much as you do now,” he commented, and behind him, a plain silver table had held another document and as he turned around, he had slid the file into his hand. “For this mission, we’ll be partnering up with Task Force 141,” and as he had said that, you could feel your heart drop as Fraizer handed the file to you. Amused by your expressive reaction, Fraizer had once again smiled. “I hope this doesn’t cause trouble in paradise.”

NO POSITION REFERENCE THIS TIME.

♆

[atarathegreat]

My 'Pup' König

KorTac, who was better known for its swifter breeds, did have some war types sprinkled in. Mostly German Shepards, but the one that stood out was the Colonel. Colonel König was a Tibetan Mastiff born in an unknown area to a German mother and an unknown, foreign father. Bushy tail and fluffy ears aside. the Colonel was an absolute unit and killing machine. König had the sharpest canines on base, sharpest senses and even the sharpest tongue when he chose to speak.

Speaking with other members was never an issue, the man gave the clearest orders of anyone, but he avoided women. Women were to be respected and treated fairly in his squads...but avoided because he was nervous. First impressions meant everything, and if he didn't go full Colonel mode, he would fumble his words and make a mess of himself.

"She's a Tibetan, like you, so you'll be training her." König was given his order swiftly and without him having time to protest. Everyone could see that something was bothering him, his tail down instead of curled as it usually was. No one dared to ask, seeing how agitated the man was. So, no one raised a finger when a female Tibetan started to follow him around.

"You're the Colonel?" Your voice startled him. König had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to even notice your scent behind him. Steel toed boot, meet steel toed boot. You blocked his kick with one of your own, wagging your tail happily as he growled at you.

Great, I've already made a fool of myself... König grumbled to himself as he lowered his foot to the ground. "Apologies, I failed to notice your approach." König held a hand out to you. It was strange that you wagged your tail at a man who had bared his teeth (something you couldn't see because of his sniper's hood) at you and growled with every ounce of dog in his genes. "All good, Sir. I was informed to find you for my first day of training." The way you smiled at him showed your little canines. He wondered if they were as sharp as they looked.

"Today I want you to show me what you know -"

"Nothing, Sir." The interjection was...annoying, sure, but König could handle it, "I am fresh from camp, Sir. Not an ounce of knowledge in my brain." König sighed and pinned his ears back, "Alright, then spend the day learning the base and I'll figure out what we'll do tomorrow."

König watched your fluffy tail bounce away to make friends and learn the base, just as he'd ordered. He liked that. An obedient little thing, weren't you? For the next week you showcased your obedience and willingness to learn everything you needed to. Getting attached to you wasn't something that König planned on; it was just that you were perfect for him. Little, obedient, strong, and he couldn't help but notice the way you retained his scent from all the time you spent near him. It made him mess up when you were near, fumble his words, and trip over his moves while fighting.

"You smell sweet, pup, what's your name?" A large German Shepard was looming over you and smiling so his canines stuck out. As if she'd be swayed by your pathetic teeth. König glared at the display of what was supposed to be elitism but only came off as desperate. The fur of your tail bounced as you wagged, "I'm Y/n. You are?"

"My name doesn't matter, pup." The soldier was carefully holding some papers, so his nametag was hidden. "But I tell you what pup," He leaned over her and whispered, grinning as he glanced up at the colonel. When your tail stopped, König moved. It didn't matter what happened, you always wagged your tail and angled your ears to whoever was talking. No tail wags, ears flattened. König didn't like it.

"-and I'm sure you'd take my knot perfectly. Wouldn't you?"

König snatched you up by the back of your neck and tossed you over his shoulder, growling deep in his chest. The German Shepard, as they both abandoned rank to take part in the dominance battle, got chest-to-chest with König and growled back. There was a heavy decline in striking fear in the other male due to König's hood hiding his teeth. You were aware of how scary the Colonel could be from training, so you carefully reached around and raised the mask enough to flash his shiny canines.

"She ain't got your scent strapped to her." The German Shepard snarled; his tail lowered to show aggression. It was a move König didn't take kindly to. "Then you must be nose blind, she reeks of me." König growled, leaning to get in the man's face, "Might wanna go to the vet and get that fixed."

"König..." Gods, the way your sweet little voice calling him anything but 'Colonel' made his tail perk, "I'm gonna bite him if he doesn't leave you alone..."

"Then how about we get away and I'll show them all whose pup you are."

[ilovejeongintoo]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕠 𝕎𝕚𝕟

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy, Gladiator/Minotaur? Jongho x Reader, Warnings: murder, deaths, time accurate sexism, strength kink, touch-starved Jongho, size kink, pet names (Nymph, Doc), no condom(wrap it up), praise Wordcount: 3145 Not proofread

I need red haired Jongho back, desperately. Why did I spend more research on ancient roman practices than this story, I'm crying.

Summary: As a female physician in ancient Rome you're in charge of minor duties, getting a call to the gladiator arena wasn't what you expected, especially with the first ranked one requiring a little more than some of your gauze and bandages.

You absolutely hated this part of the job. Being a physician was great and all but the comments from men never ceased to exist. And you were always made to look like an assistant, making countless people die of things that you were sure were treatable, the male physicians always dismissed any ideas you had, no matter how much proof you gave them.

You got the message today that they would need you at the local gladiator arena, that place shouldn't even exist in your opinion, but that would get you to get called a lunatic. As if being a woman in a male dominated field wasn't bad enough.

Usually, they called you to have you confirm that they were dead, you were usually the bringer of bad news and made sure that the important items on the person were returned to the family. Either to be kept or to be buried later in the day with the body.

That was the only positive things about that gruesome place. It reeked of death; the high, white colosseum walls far more intimidating than your little healing hut.

The guards led you through the open walkways getting you into the room with the dead bodies, you grimaced at the sight slightly. This job really didn't get any easier through the years.

"You better make this quick, we want you to look at a few people that are worth more than that pile over there." The other guard laughed. These were people once too.

"Every day, I wonder how they let a woman do a job like this." They weren't saying this out of concern, not to protect your eyes from this view but to mock you from being the gender you were.

"I'll make it as fast as I can." You did mean it, you wanted to get this over with and leave this place.

"You women should just stay and look after the kids, you're not suited for this kind of work." God if you could, you'd punch his face for even uttering a single word to you. The way their gazes ran over your body, undressing you, it made you feel absolutely repulsed. Men, men like this disgusted you to no end, they deserved the pain that Thanatos would give them when they inevitably perish.

They quickly left you, not too keen on watching touching and examining the corpses. You gently cleaned them off, blood grime and sweat stuck to them even after death. They bodies were hard to move around to get to dirty areas because rigor mortis had them laying in the same position after a while. You closed open wounds so they wouldn't leak as much anymore, so that they at the very least didn't sully the burial clothing.

As the very last step you put them on a blanket and covered their naked bodies with a blanket, ready to be taken to the burial grounds outside of the city.

You took your dirty rags and ceramic bowl with you and the rest of your medical equipment. This was the only thing that healers would allow you to do alone. So, you would at least complete these mundane task to the fullest.

You headed back up to the more residential hospital room, here were some guards and gladiators that survived their fights but weren't supported enough to get their own rooms. Just minor injuries and cuts, making you have to cauterize some wounds and treating some with lint, animal grease, and honey. Depending on how deep and bad they looked.

All this work exhausted you to no end but after a few hours everyone was put to bed for rest or were sent off home. Just as you were about to leave yourself another guard walked up to you before you had the chance to go.

"There's still someone you need to take a look at." He started walking down another way, making you follow him, your white tunica being swooshed around. The hallway seemed to drag on for forever until you were stopped in front of a big set of wooden doors.

"This is as far as I'm going to take you, he tends to… get a little aggressive with us guards." He added that he was the number one gladiator right now, so he was basically a celebrity and that you should treat him as such. You pushed the doors open with a short glance back to the lone guard, he was looking at you almost with a sympathetic face, as if he was in pain. Hopefully he wasn't the violent type, you could deal with an aggressive patient, but you weren't built to fight a professional killer.

The first thing you were greeted by was a big room, with lots of dimmed lights, giving it a warm orangish tone in the bedroom. There was a big bed in the middle of the room, it looked as if it could hold at least 4 people.

There were lit candles and torches all around that emitted the warm glow. The next thing you noticed was the hulking figure in the far end of the room, situated in front of a lit fireplace. They must have not noticed you yet because they didn't turn around at all. The door clicked close, that’s when the person turned their head to the side calling out to you.

"I told everyone, that I didn't want to be bothered." Usually you would leave at that, but there must be a reason why they needed to have a healer look at him, so you wouldn't leave until you did just that.

He didn't sound angry, only exasperated that something like this was happening. You moved forward slightly, clutching your things to your body, nervous because you weren't normally in charge of patients of such high profile.

You didn't look at him, out of respect trying to organize your things on a small table to the side of the meridienne that he was sat on. You only saw his outfit for a moment, barely enough to take in the leather pants and boots, a white shirt accompanying it.

"Didn't you hear what I said, do not bother me." You didn't respond, not too sure if you saying you were going to stay regardless or staying quiet would make him more irritated.

He didn't seem to keen on your lack of a response even though he didn't lash out at you. You were done setting everything up and kept kneeling next to him, now finally speaking.

"I was sent here to take care of any wounds tha-."

"I don't need that"

You lifted your head at the rude interruption, quickly getting stunned by the sight of the man.

Fiery dark red hair and a… surprisingly soft face, he looked young barely older than you. Dark eyebrows and eyes that perfectly matched the rest of his face. He didn't look like a gladiator at all. You've been to countless of fights before as a child, too curious to understand the brutality. And all of them were muscly big dark men, they looked like they would fight anyone and anything.

This man looked nothing of the sort. While there was a good amount of muscle on him, judging by the muscles in his arms and thighs, it was like something from a roman statue. One you'd see at the local temples, worshipped for its beauty and perfection. You wouldn't mind doing exactly that.

What?

No, you were here to help, nothing more, no matter how good looking he was. He was dangerous, he is dangerous.

-do something specific doc?"

What? You looked at his eyes. Not properly hearing him.

"I said, do you need me to do something specific doc?" Oh, right, treatment.

"Any pain anywhere? Or any injuries that you sustained; I'd like to take a look at them." He sighed not really wanting to, but seemingly just wanting to get this over with.

"Just a few cuts, on my arms and back."

"Mhm" He wasn't being transparent with you, so you'd just have to take a look now.

You were waiting for him to take his shirt off, but he didn't move a single inch. You didn't know what man-pride was stopping him from just showing you. Hah, this was going to be an even longer day now. "Just take your top off and I'll see if anything needs further treatment, if you don't let me take a look, you'll get an infection and die." You were talking to him like you were scolding a child, patience wearing thin very quickly.

His shirt was off the very next second and you had to hold back a gasp at all the scars littering his skin. It looked pretty, hard work evident in the scar tissue. Evidence of his survival. You took your jug of saltwater stopping just before pouring over a few open wounds. Warning him about the pain that was going to be coming in a few seconds, he just nodded. No flinch, no whimper, no groan absolutely nothing came out of him.

You knew just how much that hurt, like a burning fire the skin would similarily turn a little red. You quickly moved on to put a small amount of herbal paste on the few cuts along his chest impressed by his anatomy again. Hard to the touch but pliable. You tried to be as gentle as possible, as a last step you brought out some honey using it to form a barrier to the wound and disinfecting it again.

Before wrapping him up you caught sight of something on his shoulder, or back? You couldn't quite see from your position in front of him. You reached for his shoulder and then he turned away, glaring at you now.

"That one's fine." Anyone in s 5 mile radius could tell he was full of bullshit right now."

"No it's not and I'm not gonna let you fucking die from a cut that's easily treatable. So turn around or I will sedate you and do it while you're asleep." Welp, now you did it. Now there was no way that he wouldn't get angry, that must have been his last straw.

Your mouth was closed shut tightly in realization of what you had said. Praying to the gods above to help you out of this mess right now.

He was oddly quiet, that made you look at him. He stared at you, up, down, and then turned around. Without any words. You'd rather not mess with his graciousness again, so you also stayed silent throughout the process of caring for his gash, that was a lot bigger than expected. It would most definitely scar but he wouldn't die from a nasty infection at the very least.

When you were done you put some gauze around it, the other smaller wounds had pieces of fabric on them. You let your hands linger a little on his back muscles not wanting to finish out of nervousness of what he would say next and another part of you because you would be able to continue tracing along his body.

That thought in your mind made you stop, today was not your day. You were usually very professional about all your patients. But something about this man pulled you in. Maybe it was the endless scars that ran across his figure or the rough hand that had calluses from hard work, or the dark eyes that were now trained on you.

Dark eyes that were now trained on you.

You hurried a little out of your half kneeling form, not even noticing how one of your legs was on the sofa, knee buried in the soft cushioning.

You were stepping away a little when his hand shot out to grab your wrist.

"You know I don’t hurt women, I have honor as a warrior, as a man." He caressed your hands a little, looking at them, admiring them as if he wanted to figure out how your hands performed the magic of healing his wounds.

Your heart skipped a little at the contact. "I know." You did, he wasn't the type to do such a thing, not with a touch that soft.

"Say doctor, you would help me from all ailments, isn't that right?" He questioned.

"Of course." Had you missed a spot?

He looked up at you, pulling you into him, his chin resting on your stomach as your hands carefully landed on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, warming you and caging you against him. He was breathing you in for a few moments, seeming to enjoy the comfort of your closeness.

You couldn't imagine how long he must have been without human touch that wasn't violent or deadly. Someone to hold, to search comfort in.

If he needed that, you'd provide, after all you're a doctor and you just hate leaving your patients untreated.

Your hands wandered up his hair pulling his head back and leaning down and clasping your lips together. Climbing on top of him. You could tell hom much he missed this, messy kisses turning rushed and touches exploring every curve of your body. He tugged at a few stings attaching the flowy fabric of your tunic drop with the help of gravity. His hands finding their place on your waist. And yours making quick work of his pants.

"I missed this so much, you're so pretty, so good to me." You could honestly come from his words alone, your explorative touches from before had you thinking a little dirty before, now this was really happening.

"A true goddess sent down to heal me." His kisses just kept going. "Praise Venus for making you so desirable."

You'd never heard words like this from a man, only familiar with the degrading voice of men. He hiked you up slightly, easily lifting you. Getting you closer, your bodies touching in all places.

Your loincloth and breast covering were the next things to go, he was attaching himself immediately to suck onto your exposed boobs. Taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking, and letting go, looking up at you in pure mesmerism dripping from his orbs.

One hand moved down the curve of your back, over your butt and massaged your pussy. Massaging a few fingers over the sensitive slit.

"Jongho, my name, please, call for me." He paused each time, barely getting the words out over him working you up to your peak.

Your noises were unbelievably loud, you would have been embarrassed but you were too much in the moment to care. Moans and groans coming out of you without an ounce of control, Jongho stimulating you so well that you were praying that no gods above were watching this act between you two.

You were barely keeping yourself steadied, your arms slowly giving out. Jongho seemed to notice and flipped you onto the headrest of the couch, having placed himself between your legs. His fingers were now thrusting into you, you hadn't even notice him pumping them in until you really took a look. His big fingers took up so much space inside you, feeling like the biggest dick that you've had before.

He was still looking at you in that concentrated stare, fully intent on having you cum on his fingers. Which he did, only a moment later. Your teeth clenching muffling the loud moan that threatened to escape out of you. Your legs shaking and clamping against his hand, which was stimulating your clit in slow circles now.

It took you a few seconds to get back to earth and you noticed yourself being turned around, your knees propped up a little, stomach over the headrest now. Comfortable after tingles pouring through your nerves, leaving you sensitive.

You felt your entrance being touched with something wet, round, and big. You knew what it was, pushing slightly back to get him in you. You would be damned if you didn't get his cock in you today. Your prayers were answered at a moment’s notice, in the form of a stretching feeling, it burned a little despite the extensive amount of prep. You felt so full when you hear him mutter a little.

"Just a little more, you can take me." He wasn't even fully in and you felt like he was poking at your organs from the inside, brushing onto all the spots in you.

When he bottomed out you truly felt like you were being pushed to your limits, never having felt like this before.

He touched your stomach, pushing in slightly in amazement that you took him, praises falling from his lips, healing away the burn. When he started moving it felt like your insides were being pulled out, dragging long unfiltered moans out of you. Each thrust had him smacking a little harder against your ass, the skin-on-skin noises becoming almost as loud as you. He groaned and moaned when you clenched down especially hard.

"I could live like this, every day have you here spread on my cock. You'd like that wouldn't you little Nymph?" You fit him like a goddamn glove, he couldn’t even remember how sex felt like before this. Before this heavenly sensation.

"Just look at you." He pressed your back down a little, curving it slightly. And angled his thrusts, hitting even harder, knocking your breath out of you on occasion, not quite catching up on the pleasure and your breath.

You reached your hand back, calling his name, needing something to ground you and he obeyed, grabbing onto yours holding on. When his thrusts grew sloppier more desperate you knew he was close and you were too, screaming his name at the top of your lungs you came a second time.

He spilled himself into you at that, liquid filling you up just as much as his cock did. He carefully pulled out, grabbing a blanket that had been thrown down onto the ground and throwing it over you.

You must absolutely look like a mess but he leans down to press a kiss to your lips connecting you two for a few seconds, stopping himself to not have you cumming and bent over in the next few minutes again, as much as he enjoyed to do that. He pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his sweaty chest.

"Let's sleep or you're gonna be the death of me little Nymph." He kissed your head.

That made you remember, his wounds, making you sit up in his arms and checking him over.

"Jongho! you're bleeding."

He grumbled. Not bothered in the slightest. He pulled you down again, keeping you secured along his body. Not letting you leave his embrace and acess the damage properly.

"You can check on those anytime from now on, don't worry."

[v3nusxsky]

i LOVE your fics. absolutely beautiful work 💋 can you do more sub rissa plsss maybe some jealous reader who is also a shapeshifter and shifts their yk 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Happy to see you 18+

 *Authors note~ sub Larissa truly has my heart but it's so strange to write reader as a dominant due to me being naturally submissive*

Trigger warnings~ jealous dom r sub l daddy kink? Breeding kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

You're girlfriend was always dominant in her work life, it just comes with the territory of being a headmistress. Nevermore was her family, her home and her life's work. She'd do anything to protect it. Dating was hard for her, she wanted someone who would love and cherish the school in similar ways to her. Luckily when she appointed you as the new teacher for bounty, she found just that. The attraction for both of you had been instant. For you she was a stunningly tall goddess and you felt you paled in comparison, your sweet small almost nerdy disposition leaving you feeling slightly inadequate. But to her? You were absolutely perfect and she couldn't get you off her mind. For months you'd dance around each other not quite brave enough to ask the other on a date. But when you managed to pluck up that courage, you found it was the best thing you'd ever done. It gave you the most beautiful woman to call your own.

Maybe that's why you were so jealous, you saw here to easily be the most stunning human in any room, it was only natural others would be drawn to her too. But that didn't make it any easier. You knew she was yours and how loved you were by her. You felt completely secure in your relationship but the need to mark her as yours, claim her in some of the most carnal ways was often too much for you. An overwhelming need that you tried to push away not wanting to scare the women, hickeys in your line of work was a no go, well at least in visible places. But recently you'd worked out a different way.

As soon as you could you'd managed to drag her away for the night and take her to your shared quarters. As soon as the door was shut, your lips and hands were all over the headmistress who had absolutely no complaints in the actions whatsoever, even going as far to make everything easier to reach. Clearly for you this was a need and something she was more than happy to provide. She knew of your jealousy issues and how you often just needed to be made to feel secure and reminded of how loved you were.

It wasn't long before you'd completely stripped the headmistress of her clothing and walked her backwards till her knees hit the bed and she toppled onto her back. Your lips never left hers, her little moans and whines pleasing you as you focused on shifting a specific area of your body. "Rissa? Daddy has something for you, you gonna be good and take it for me?" You mumbled into her neck as you kisses up and down it nipping every now and then. Only then she realised what you had done, a loud needy whine left her, "daddy did you? Oh fuck" she whined as you stripped down to match her, your now impressive length standing to attention. The way Larissa's needy hungry eyes lingered over your new appendage added to your need to take her and take her now.

"Ris, you gonna be a good whore and take daddy's dick? Be my good girl" she mumbled against your breasts now, showering both with equal attention. "Be good so good please" she whimpered begging you instantly for what she wanted. Who were you to make her wait when she was such a good girl. You lined yourself up with her dripping core and slowly pushed your way in, her moaning at the intrusion as you stilled whispering words of praise as you placed one hand on the bed to steady yourself and the other up playing with her chest. "Please daddy please more" she whined and all you could do was give in to her pleads. "That's it sweet girl. Your taking me so well, feels so good Ris" you moaned back. This was addicting and you were sure it would happen again in the near future.

You could tell how needy she was when she came for you rather quickly, you helped her through it before slipping from her cunt and flipping you both over. You wanted her to ride you and she seemed to be on the same wavelength as you, happily moaning and moving to sink down on your dick. "Good girl, move sweet girl make daddy cum" you mumbled bring your mouth to her breast once more as she began to roll her hips.

You were close and you knew that, you couldn't help but feel that same carnal need to mark her. "Ris baby, can daddy breed you? Mark you make you mine?" You panted flushed with the efforts of helping her fuck herself against you.  Your cock stroking her walls as they fluttered around you. "Oh fuck daddy please daddy I'm yours" she whined and that was all the permission you needed. You fell first and Larissa straight after, you kept thrusting into her soaked hole until you were sure that she was finished. Slipping out of her and morphing back into your original state you quickly kept up to get a warm wet washcloth. Part of the routine, Larissa knew she had that time straight after to just be and you'd take care of her. A weird concept at the start, her usually dominant personality finding it hard to accept but now she couldn't get enough. After you finished cleaning her up, you crawled back up the bed to hold the woman you love, "you're mine Rissa no one else can have you" you murmured showering her in kisses. "Only yours y/n I love you so" she whispered before allowing sleep to claim her.

Word count~ 1023

[imthetunnelunderoceanblvd]

Hiiiii!!!! I’m super gay and was wondering if you are open to writing an avatar Walker x metkayina! Fem reader x zdog smut. They both discover metkayina reader when they were torturing the metkayina clan and they are smitten by her so they kidnap her. Then pls make it smut where they take her virginity with their strapons, fingering, pussy eating (metkayina reader eats their pussies), and then a forced soul tie. They are both very cocky, dominant, and rough with reader. I hope this isn’t too dark and something you’re willing to write

zdinarsk x metkayina!fem!reader x walker.

warnings: vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem. rec.) masturbating, fxfxf, lesbian sex !!, face riding, threesome, slight dirty talking (if you squint!!), slight praising (not really), facials,pls tell me if i forgot any!

zdinarsk and walker were fascinated by the way the metkayina women looked, their hair, clothes, bodies, they've never seen this much women since they woke up as na’vi, they were in heaven..

when the z-dog saw you, tears in your eyes running down your cheeks, the way your wet clothes clung to you body, espicially your top, the fabric of your tiny top that did nothing to cover your entire chest clung to your boobs, defining your perky tits. what caught her attention was your hard nipples, she knew walker would like to look at a pretty thing like you. "look," z-dog said smirking as she nudged walker with her elbow, the woman groaned at her for doing that and looked at what z-dog pointed, "oh shit.." was all walker could think of, she was absolutely shocked with the mesmerizing view she was looking at.

the two women looked at each other, shit eating smirk on both their lips.

and that's how you ended up in this situation, woth z-dog sitting on your face grinding her hips down on your mouth as you lapped up her juices as you laid on your back, legs wide open and shaking, one hand on z-dog's waist, three fingers pinching her skin, thumb rubbing on the flesh, the other hand on walkers head, tugging at her hair as her fingers worked inside you, curling and abusing your sweet spot.

you were trying your best to be good and follow their orders since z-dog pressed her gun to your back. the cold metal made goosebumps appear all over your skin. they were both talking, but you couldn't make out what they were saying.

z-dog's tank top had already been thrown somewhere neither you nor walker are going to find it, her fingers on her nipple playing with the little bud, her other hand on your head, digging into your skull, making you groan and moan both from the pleasure of walker's tongue and pain from the way zdinarsk held your head.

"f-fuck her mo-uth feels so-sso good." you weren't capable of understanding her weird language, and you knew better than to ask.

"tastes so good, ya gotta try her pussy, shit tastes so good, better than strawberries."

walker's fingers started working inside you at a faster pace now, pumping in and out of you as she blew cold air onto your clitoral area, making you buck your hips and whimper against zdinarsk's puffy clitoral area.

it was too much; it felt too good, too. you let out a high-pitched moan when walker sucked your clir harder than ever. the act made your eyes roll to the back of your head, made your toes flex, and made your back arch. when you moaned, z-dog felt the vibrations on her core, and it made her let out a moan. "do that again, god. fuck, it feels so good. do that again, walker!" and when walker heard z-dog's words, her voice would half scream and half moan. she sucked again, this time harder, and to that, you responded yet again with another moan.

a lot of time has passed; your legs are so weak now; your pussy feels numb; you can't even feel your insides, but you enjoy it; every lick, every bite, it all makes your body spark with need.

zdinarsk started grinding on your face now, coating your entire face with her slick, and you had started to grind your pussy on walker's tongue as she moaned and furiously rubbed on her clitoral area. the white sticky liquid of your post-orgasms started to make bubbles between your folds as you gushed out yet another orgasm. it was hard to breathe. the way z-dog was grinding down on your face, you felt your lungs burn from holding your breath for too long.

before you could even comprehend what was happening to you, you felt z-dog's sweet-tasting cum ooze out of her hole and land on your face.

and just like that, both girls were done with you; they got up and put their clothes back on, and you turned to the side and stayed laying down on your side for a while, thinking of what happened. this few-hour thing made your insides unfeelable and your clitoral area hurt, yet it felt so good?

[starshine-wagner]

For All the Years

Summary: Josh has had enough of watching you suffer from afar. 

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: negative body image talk, misogyny

To all my bigger b*tches: this one is for us.

This is based off of a conversation one of my roommates endured recently. It had me so frustrated and I needed to channel it somewhere and, well, here we are.

Thanks for engaging with my stuff, y’all! I know I have a lot to improve on, but it’s fun hearing your thoughts and feedback. Please feel free to send me any suggestions!

A/N: This is a re-upload to move my work from my old blog to my current blog.

You’d been having a great time at your friend’s going-away-party and were only a few drinks in when you found yourself on the couch with some of his coworkers. You didn’t know them all too well, besides the few times you’d been at the club together. All you knew was that the tall one was a horrendous dancer, and the one with the blonde curls had a southern accent that you couldn’t quite pin. Being the good friend you were, you engaged them in small talk and tried to bring them into the conversation. 

The dimly lit room reeked of cheap beer and body odor, but you didn’t really mind. Any night spent at the Kiszka’s house was worth the suffering if it meant you got to do it with them.

From where you were on the couch, you could see Danny chatting up some girl in the kitchen. Good for him, you thought. Sam was out on the porch with a couple other guys who you couldn’t make out without your glasses. Though you couldn’t see them, you could sure hear them. They hollered stupid shit into the thick summer air and you thanked God the Kiszkas lived in a relatively secluded area. Otherwise, the police would’ve been called many many many parties ago. 

Somehow, the topic on the couch jumped from favorite dog breeds to general pet care to grooming to personal habits to… this. And it snapped you back into focus.

“I just think that if a girl put more effort into her appearance, she’d get asked on more dates. It’s not even an opinion really. Just like… a fact…”

“Yeah. Like. Objectively, girls who go for runs every day are just gonna get asked on more dates. It’s not a bad thing. That’s just how it is.”

“Absolutely. And like, no shade to bigger women. Some of them are hot too,” the tall one said, giving you a side eye and a reassuring (?) nod, “but like, I don’t know. It’s not for everyone.”

They went on to describe a self-made pyramid ranking system of how boys view women when you finally tuned out. What the fuck. Were you really speaking to grown men in the year 2022? Were their brains actually this archaic and small and stupid and… ???

As soon as you felt your neck get hot and your eyes start to fill with tears, you knew this would be one of those moments. You’d gotten over the bulk of your body image issues a couple years ago.

But, every once in a while, they resurfaced. Half of you wanted to launch into an angry rant at these guys, but the more dominant half of you just wanted to cry.

“Sorry, I just gotta go grab another drink.” You excused yourself, giving whoever was next to you a pat on the knee, and made a beeline for the bathroom upstairs. You’d likely need it for longer than a quick piss, and didn’t want a drunk person banging on the door before you were done wiping away any evidence of your hurt. 

You grabbed the handle and swung open the door when-

“Ocupado!” Dammit. You’d walked in on Jake peeing before, but this was the least convenient time for it to happen again. Still a bit drunk, he turned to cover himself, but not without a little smirk in your direction. Unbeknownst to you, he caught the look on your face before you slammed the door shut and retreated.

You found your way into Ronnie’s room. It’s usually where you stayed on nights like these since she was off at college. With the lights off and the white noise of the party downstairs lulling you into thought, you let go.

It didn’t really matter what those guys had said. You’d probably never see them again. But something about their attitude triggered a deep hurt. Years of being seen as the funny fat friend would do that to you. Immediately, your mind jumped to wayward conclusions. 

You didn’t have a boyfriend because you were fat. You probably wouldn’t ever be someone’s first choice, solely because of your size. Could you blame them? Skinny girls are pretty, after all. 

You wondered if that’s why Josh never made a move on you. It makes sense, you thought. Despite years of little hints and sweet touches and vulnerable hearts and wandering eyes, it made sense that he never really wanted you like that.

It made sense that he’d just seen you as his silly, platonic, good-for-a-laugh, fills-the-gaping-hole-of-loneliness girl friend. Idiot, you thought. Of course he never wanted you. He is way too fucking good for someone like me.

Just as you were consuming yourself in these thoughts, you heard a tap on the door, and heard someone call your name. You figured that, if you held your breath and kept silent, whoever it was would assume you weren’t in there and go away. Just in case, you crept off the bed and onto the floor beside it, out of view. 

“Y/N?” Josh asked in the dark. “I know you want to see Jake’s dick but you could’ve just asked politely.” Despite your mood, you couldn’t help but hold back a breathy laugh. Josh padded over on the carpet to the other side of the bed to find you lying face first on the ground.

“Whatcha doing down there?”

“Your carpet smells like musty grandma.” You peeked up at him as he took a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“Okay, well, technically it’s not my carpet. It’s Ronnie’s. Actually, even more technically, it’s my mother’s carpet.” Again, he made you smile, but it quickly faded and you put your face back to the ground.

“What’s up, Y/N?” He poked you with his shoe and you knew that he knew you weren’t actually all right. Ever the problem-solver, you also knew that he wouldn’t leave until you told him what was on your mind. So, you sat up, cross-legged on the floor with your head resting against the wall.

“Just crying. Leo’s work friends pissed me off.” Josh’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“What did they do?”

“They didn’t do anything. They just… they’re idiots. Misogynistic, dumbass fucking barbarians.” You crossed your arms and closed your eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears that still threatened to betray you.

You’d cried in front of Josh before. Many times, actually. But after the mental gymnastics you’d just done, you weren’t in the mood to give over more of yourself to him. He doesn’t actually want you.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He slapped both his knees and went to stand up before you reached for his wrist to stop him.

“No, stay.” Oops. You didn’t mean to say that.

“I’ll come back after I kick those assclowns out of my house.” He tried to walk forward but your grip only tightened.

“… You mean your mom’s house.”

“Shut up, Y/N.” He couldn’t help but smirk at your wit.

“Please? I don’t want to cause a big thing,” you begged, “It’s not a big deal.” After a moment of contemplation, he rubbed your knuckles with his thumb before detaching himself and finding a place on the floor next to you. His little body curled up so easily next to yours.

You wondered if he noticed the difference in size between you two, too. After a moment of silence, he turned his head and gave you a slightly squinty-eyed look and a half-assed smile that read something like: I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened. 

Better to get this over with sooner rather than later. 

“They just… We were talking and they started saying some shit about dating girls and how, basically, skinnier girls are prettier. And that girls who go on runs every day get asked out more. And implied that it’s women’s own fault if they’re not perceived as attractive to men. I don’t know. It’s dumb but it made me-”

“It’s not dumb,” he cut you off and reached for your hand. “Well, wait, I mean, it is dumb. But what you’re feeling isn’t dumb.” Josh’s lips were pursed in concern, while his hands found their way to rest chastely on your thigh. You uncrossed your legs and scooted a tad further away so he couldn’t keep his hands there. He only does that because he knows nobody else will.

“Ok. Well. Yeah, it just made me frustrated. I mean,” you hesitated, eyes flicking to the door, “you saw me back when Lucas cheated on me. And that one time we talked about why. Just, my brain automatically started replaying the shit he said about my body being too gross and, I don’t know. It just…”

Fuck. The tears were coming whether you liked it or not. Your hands went to cover your face, but Josh was too quick. He moved them to his lap and pulled your head into his chest. 

At that moment, you didn’t care how you’d feel later. You didn’t care that you’d fall asleep feeling stuck in this limbo of affection for someone who’d probably laugh at the idea of dating you. Who cared if it was a pity gesture? You needed someone to comfort you and he was a warm body willing to walk you through it. And he was warm…

Josh combed through your hair with his fingers, ever so gently, while you let out your cries. It felt nice. He was always so gentle with you. Even in the pale moonlight from the window, you could see that you were staining Josh’s white shirt with your tears. 

“Sorry,” you said, slightly muffled by his chest. 

��Don’t apologize. Never apologize…” You could hear his heartbeat. Slow and steady, like the strokes of his thumb on the back of your head. After another few seconds like this, he allowed you to pull back, still keeping his arms around your shoulders.

“I think I just wanna sleep. Is it okay if I stay here again?”

“You know you never have to ask. Towels are in the laundry room instead of the usual spot. And I’ll try to wrap things up down there.”

“It’s okay, don’t make them-”

“I’m gonna tell them to wrap it up,” he insisted. Josh pushed himself up and sauntered out the door. You sat there, glued to your spot in a heavy sadness. Maybe you’d just sleep right where you were. 

From downstairs, you heard Josh begin to sing, “time to get the fuck out of my house!” over and over. It was his way of feigning kindness when he was actually just impatient and frustrated. If he made it into a song, it didn’t seem as threatening. Thirty minutes later, you heard people start to finally say their goodbyes, and a bit of rustling outside, as people made their way home.

Once the last engines roared down the street and Sam finally turned off the music, you figured it was safe to head over to the laundry room and grab a towel to clean your face with. It’s a wonder you still had the motivation to wash up.

As you crept down the hall past Jake’s room, you heard him. You heard Josh. The door was wide open. And, by their hushed tones, you immediately knew it was something you weren’t supposed to hear.  

“Because I’m fucking wrecked, Jake! Okay?”

Silence. 

“I can’t stand to see her fucking beating herself up anymore, so I fucked him up instead. Five years of loving her and needing her and not saying shit like a dumbass… I’m tired of it.”

Your heart immediately felt like it was going to jump right out of your throat. You had to remind yourself to take your next breath as you stood there in the hallway, unsure of what your next move would be. But, your next breath came not as a breath at all. Instead, a soft gasp filled your ever-tightening lungs. Shit.

You watched from behind as Josh’s head flinched, like he was about to turn around, but caught himself.

He knew it was you. He didn’t need to look.

With the way his skin was burning at your proximity, it couldn’t not be you.

His head hung down and his eyes were glued to the floor in front of him. Jake peeked past Josh to look at you with wide eyes. His brother had let his biggest secret slip. 

For years he’d kept it hidden behind thinly veiled sarcasm and brotherly harassment. He made sure never to get too close, keeping himself just far enough away that he wouldn’t be tempted to say ‘fuck it all.’

Honestly, he was surprised it took this long for the truth to come out. 

You felt frozen in place, stuck to the ground below you. Your brain couldn’t get your legs to move until Josh finally began to turn around. Not wanting him to actually see you, you did a tip-toed run back to Ronnie’s room, towel-less and confused.

Was he saying what you thought he was saying? It couldn’t be. Your mind had to be making shit up in some weird psychotic break triggered by the assholes at the party. Yes, that was certainly the case.

…But you were pretty damn sure you just heard Josh saying he loved you? 

And needed you? 

And it didn’t sound platonic…?

And… wait, did he hit those guys?

You threw yourself onto the bed and under the covers, with your back to the doorway. The plan was to act like you didn’t hear anything. You’d actually been asleep this whole time! You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to create a believable breathing pattern for someone who was asleep. This way, if Josh came in to try and explain whatever that was, he’d realize it wasn’t you after all. It would give you more time to try and figure out what you’d say.

Genius plan.

Just as you expected, the door creaked open. Seconds passed with no sound when Josh finally whispered your name into the dark. Sticking to the plan, you pretended to sleep and prayed he would give up and go away. This was not a territory you were prepared to explore tonight. Again, Josh whispered into the room.

“Y/N. I know you’re awake. Jake saw you.”

Shit. Would it be stupid to just keep sticking to the plan and pretend- 

He sat down on the other side of the bed. 

“I just…” he cleared his throat, “that’s not how you were supposed to find out.” Okay. So we’re doing this. Once you summoned the courage to face him, you rolled over and saw Josh fidgeting with his necklace and avoiding your gaze. You weren’t sure exactly what was about to unfold.

“I just really hate seeing you like that. What those guys said was disgusting. You’re worth…” he rubbed his palm down the side of his face, resting it at his neck. “You’re so perfect. And to know that they made you question that just infuriates me to no end, Y/N.” 

You peeked at him with one eye, the other buried in your pillow. He’d fully turned to face you now.

“Listen, I get it if you don’t like me like that,” he started, “but I couldn’t just let those guys say shit like that and walk away untouched.” You didn’t know what the hell to say. So you let the silence go on. And on. “… Y/N? Can you say just, anything, please?”

“… You hit them?” Honestly, you were kinda surprised. Josh was never really one for violence, even with his brothers.

“Well. I tried. One of them kinda shoved me away and I could only get one good whack at him but… I tried,” he admitted, a little sheepish. 

“Are you okay?” 

He huffed, “I’m fine.” You considered it for a second… the idea of Josh trying to punch someone and failing. You bit your lip, holding back a little bit of a smile at the thought. “What could possibly be amusing you, right now?” Josh asked. 

“You’re such an idiot. That dude is so much bigger than you!”

He shook his head, maintaining an uncharacteristically serious tone. “Don’t care.” Josh’s eyes seemed to be pleading with you. Begging you to recognize the emotion behind them. Imploring you to understand what he wanted to say without actually having to say it. His gaze became too much, and you turned your head away.

That’s when he bent down and surprised you by pressing his lips against yours, just for a moment. 

“Josh, you don’t have to-”

“I’m sorry…”

“Please don’t kiss me because you feel bad for me. I’m fine. I’ll be… fine. I’ve dealt with this shit my whole life and I always get over it.” His brows furrowed and he licked his lips.

“You- you think I kissed you because I feel bad for you?”

“I guess. Yeah.” You started to pull the comforter over your face and retreat back to the safety of the bed, but he stopped you.

“Y/N. Look at me.” He grabbed your chin with this thumb and forefinger, giving it a tap before placing his hands next to yours. “I kissed you because I’ve been dying to for years. Not because I pity you or some shit. I fucking want you.” He paused. “And if you don’t- like, if that’s not something you want then that’s okay and I’m sorry for misinterpreting, but… God,” he sighed. 

Slowly, your hand crept out of the covers and onto his. You let your fingers wrap around his thumb and his eyes shot up to meet yours, though his head didn’t move. If he really meant what he said, you knew you had to be honest with him as well. 

“I want you too, Josh.”

And with that, the walls between the two of you came crashing down.

He pulled you up off your pillow and kissed you like you’d be gone tomorrow. Slowly peppering you with sweet touches along your face and down to your neck and across your collarbones.

You grabbed the sides of his face with both hands, forcing him to look up at you. You held his gaze as tears started to fill your eyes. Instinctively, he wiped them away as they came and grazed your forehead with his lips before drawing you into his arms. 

You two sat there, just hugging, for what felt like forever. You allowed his heart beat to soothe you into calm. Once you found your breath again, you asked something into his shoulder

“You really… you love me?” He took a deep breath in.

“I do, Y/N. I love you. And I’ll make up for all the years I was supposed to be kissing you.”

And with that, you hated those misogynistic assholes a little less.

[donotpush]

Birth Advent Calendar 22 - Day 1

Nikki always knew what she liked.

She always thought that she was some sort of outcast. The things that would make her blood burn and her stomach feel funny weren't the same as the rest of the girls in her friend group wanted.

She didn't like the movie's bad boy or the strong hero. She liked the bad girl, the femme fatale that would get the hero on his knees and make him beg.

Growing up and with the helping hand of the Internet, and many visits to dark and already forgotten forums and sites, she was able to put a name to her tastes: she liked to dominate men. Nikki was a dominatrix in nature.

Chains, leather, handcuffs and latex. That was all she needed to feel fulfilled. Oh, and a man to overpower and humilliate.

Becoming a full-time dominatrix was exactly her idea of ideal life and she got it.

She would dress up in her expensive latex suit, lift the zip in the back and Nikki was gone. Mistress would appear on the stage ready to put on a show.

When she discovered she was pregnant, Nikki didn't even hesitate, not even one second on keeping doing what she loved the most. She saw it as an opportunity to empower, to learn to love and take advantage of this new facet of her own body.

It was scary at first, like everything new, but after a while, she went from despising to loving every single change.

The way her entire body swelled, her belly becoming bigger each month, her breasts growing full with milk, the embodiment of fertility in her aching chest and the new sensitivity over all her body.

And against what she thought, her clients loved it. Men and women, young and old. She even got a whole new bunch of clients.

Some days, however, she regretted her choice of profession.

"Fuck...! Oh my!" Nikki groaned, her back arching as her fingers gripped at the sheets.

Some days, however, she regretted her choice of profession. Today, because her baby was crowning between her legs and she was stuck inside her very expensive latex suit.

In the bedroom, Mistress was in total control of everything. Nobody talked, breathed or screamed without her permission, her position was always on top of the chain. But today, roles were reversed.

It was Mistress who was whimpering on the bed, theet gritted and hands, gripping at the sheets with pained moans.

"Oh, God! Come on!" Nikki whined, clenching her jaw. "Shit!"

She tried to ignore it in the morning as she got ready, it was just some cramps and an aching back. Nothing new. Nothing that would get her to cancel her session with her client today.

She denied how low her belly was hanging as she stared at herself in the mirror. She ignored the way the latex suit seemed to be tighter than ever today, rubbing in the wrong ways against her breasts and her most sensitive areas and everywhere.

God, she even denied how low the baby felt and how much pressure she was feeling. She was so sure that she could totally, absolutely finish the session and just then go to the hospital or something.

And now...

Her hands desperately tried to reach for her back, looking for the zip of the suit to get it out, but all she could focus on was the burning sensation between her legs and all the pressure.

"Ughn... help me!" she screamed through gritted teeth, tilting her head to look at her slave.

Johnathan or Johnny, she couldn't be bothered remembering his name right now, shook his head vigorously and tried to free himself from the cuffs that kept him tied to the pole in the middle of the room.

He really wanted to help his mistress, but he didn't even know where the keys were at!

"Mh-hmph-ph" Johnny grumbled through the gag ball "Hmm!?"

Mistress had left the keys somewhere totally out of his reach, as agreed for the game, but now the only thing Johnny could do was let out desperate sounds, muffled by the gag ball, and whine about the erections on his trousers.

"Ohmygodohmygod" Nikki could feel the head slowly spreading her open.

She was stuck, like a beached whale, literally. She couldn't turn around and all she could think of was pushing, pushing, pushing.

But the suit was so tight, right against her naked skin —because hours ago it was a good idea to go completely naked under the suit, — and it was keeping the head in place. Unable to go anywhere and stuck in that semi-crown.

She knew she should try to get the thing off, but when another contraction took over her, all she could think of doing was pushing.

With a low moan, she gave in to her body's impulses, throwing her head back and pushing.

Johnny let out a high-pitched noise, watching how his mistress squirmed on the bed while he struggled to free himself.

In his pants, his cock twitched at the view.

"Mh-ph, yhm vhmt hmm mlim mhm", the man grumbled through the gag.

Mistress, you look very hot like that was a close translation, but Nikki barely registered his babbling.

With a cry, one of Nikki's hands went down, trying to reach over her gravid belly to feel the bulge growing between her legs. She could barely make it through the contracting mount of flesh, trying and failing miserably to grip at any piece of fabric she could.

It was useless, she thought, but she couldn't help but surrender to the urge to push. She couldn't help but push, even if the head was going nowhere.

"Fu...fuck!" Nikki whimpered, her head falling to her chest as she pushed with another contraction.

For a moment, the head moved, but as soon as it happened, it slid back inside.

Nikki was laying there, with a head half crowning between her legs, her huge belly trapped under all that thick material and her hands unable to do anything.

She breathed, moaning and trying to find a moment of clarity between all that discomfort.

"Ughn! Fuck...!" with gritted teeth, Nikki took a deep breath, letting it go in one big exhale, putting all her energy into trying to get up.

Birth fluids dripped down her legs, soaking the mattress as she managed to sit down, her legs spread wide and her gravid belly hanging between her thighs.

It was uncomfortable, and once again, she had to bite her cheek to ignore the urge to push. There was nowhere the head could go.

Johnny babbled something more, shaking himself like crazy, but Nikki didn't focus on him.

With a groan, she stood up, her knees almost buckling underneath her and her shaky legs. Nikki breathed, almost falling to a squat but giving into a miserable walk towards the full-body mirror on the other side of the room.

With the head crowning between her legs, she had to silence the scream of her body telling her to just squat down and push, because she couldn't.

It seemed like kilometres until she found her reflection staring at her. Nikki turned around to see the back of her suit, guiding her fingers to grip the zip and pulling it down.

As it reached the end, a loud scream escaped Nikki's lips. "It's fucking coming!" she grunted, closing her eyes shut with a gasp.

Nikki moaned as she tried to get the thing off her body, the latex sticking to her skin and God, she needed to push so bad. She didn't realize the moment she managed to rip it out, letting the suit hang from her knees and giving in.

She was pushing. The only moment she realized was when the head popped out of her with a gush, giving her a single moment of relief.

It lasted little because once again she needed to push, her baby eager to be finally able to come out. This time, her knees buckled underneath her and she squatted down, pushing with all her might.

The shoulders came out easily, and the baby didn't give her a moment of peace because the urge to push was coming all at once, not letting Nikki catch a breath.

With another gush, the baby was out. Nikki gasped, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Hmpffhm! Hmph!" on the floor, Johnny grunted.

There was a wet patch in his underwear too.

"Ihms?" He grumbled, probably something like keys.

[darkmaga-returns]

We shouldn’t read too much into the early voting results, but the numbers that we have gotten so far are so different from what we witnessed in 2020 that they are impossible to ignore.  Four years ago, Democrats completely and utterly dominated the early voting period, and many of the experts expected the same thing to happen again in 2024.  But that isn’t what we are seeing.  Instead, early voting for the Democrats is down, and early voting for the Republicans is way up.  More than 51 million people have already voted, and the data that we have about those votes is quite startling.

For example, just look at what is happening in North Carolina.  For the first time ever, Republicans actually have a lead during the early voting period…

More than 3 million people have already voted in early voting in North Carolina, which can be done via mail-in absentee ballot or via in-person locations around the state. Republicans, interestingly, for the first time ever actually lead the early vote–North Carolina provides the partisan breakdown and demographic data on early voters in the state–something they have done now for more than a week. This remarkably consistent GOP lead has shocked political observers, and comes as demographic data also suggests Democrats face serious issues in competing at the top of the ticket in the state. Black voter turnout is down approximately 3 percent from 2020, and about 1 percent more men than women, as compared with 2020, are voting in the state.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Democrats were supposed to build a lead during early voting that the Republicans would try to chase down on Election Day.

And many had been anticipating that turnout in the areas of North Carolina that were absolutely devastated by Hurricane Helene would be way down during the early voting period, but instead turnout is actually up…

A record-breaking 2.8 million people in North Carolina have cast early ballots – with tens of thousands of those votes coming out of the storm-ravaged west. As of last week, voters in the 25 counties in the FEMA-designated disaster area submitted 0.5 percent more ballots than they had in 2020.

One couple that lives in a part of the state that was hit really hard by Hurricane Helene said that they would “crawl over broken glass to vote for Trump”…

[maximumphilosopheranchor]

Security concerns and commercial interests attracted the Ottomans to the region. In particular they were interested in slaves. The slave trade had always been important in the region’s economy, but it now became dominant. The Ottoman Empire, whose Islamic laws allowed the enslavement only of non-Muslims and encouraged the emancipation of slaves, was always in need of free labor. The Noghays and the Crimean Tatars responded to the demand, expanding their slave-seeking expeditions to the lands north of the Pontic steppes and often going much deeper into Ukraine and southern Muscovy than the frontier areas. The slave trade supplemented the earnings that the Noghays obtained from animal husbandry and the Crimeans from both husbandry and settled forms of agriculture. Bad harvests generally translated into more raids to the north and more slaves shipped back to the Crimea. All five routes that the Tatars followed to the settled areas on their slave-seeking raids went through Ukraine. Two of them east of the Dniester led to western Podolia and then to Galicia; two on the other side of the Southern Buh River led to western Podolia and Volhynia, then again to Galicia; the last passed through what would become the Sloboda Ukraine region around Kharkiv to southern Muscovy. If the demand for cereals led to the incorporation of the Ukrainian lands of the sixteenth century into the Baltic trade, their connection to the Mediterranean trade was due largely to Tatar raiding for slaves. Ukrainians, who constituted an absolute majority of the population of the steppe borderlands north of the Black Sea and moved into the steppes in search of grain, became the main targets and victims of the Ottoman Empire’s slave-dependent economy. Ethnic Russians northeast of the Crimea were a close second. Michalon (Michael) the Lithuanian, a mid-sixteenth century author who visited e Crimea, described the scope of the slave trade by quoting from his conversation with a local Jew who, “seeing that our people were constantly being shipped there as captives in numbers too large to count, asked us whether our lands also teemed with people, and whence such innumerable mortals had come.” Estimates of the numbers of Ukrainians and Russians brought to the Crimean slave markets in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries vary from 1.5 million to 3 million. Children and adolescents brought the highest prices. The fates of the slaves differed. Most of the male slaves ended up on Ottoman galleys or working in the fields, while many women worked as domestics. Some got lucky, but only in a matter of speaking. Talented young men made careers in the Ottoman administration, but most of them were eunuchs. Some women were taken into the harems of the sultans and high Ottoman officials. One Ukrainian girl known in history as Roxolana became the wife of the most powerful of the Ottoman sultans, Suleiman the Magnificent, who ruled from 1520 to 1566. Her son became a sultan under the name Selim II. Under the name of Hürrem Sultan, Roxolana sponsored Muslim charities and funded the construction of some of the best examples of Ottoman architecture. Among these is the Haseki Hürrem Sultan Hamamı, a public bathhouse not far from Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, constructed by the best-known Ottoman architect, Mimar Sinan. In the course of the last two hundred years, Roxolana has figured as the heroine of novels and a number of television dramas in Ukraine and Turkey. To be sure, her life and career were the exception, not the rule. The Tatar attacks and the slave trade left deep scars in Ukrainian memory. The fate of the slaves was the subject of numerous dumas – Ukrainian epic songs that lamented the fate of the captives, described their attempts to escape from Crimean slavery, and glorified the men who saved and freed slaves. Those folk heroes were known as Cossacks. They fought the Tatars, undertook seagoing expeditions against the Ottomans, and, indeed, freed slaves from time to time.

Serhii Plokhy, The Gates of Europe: A History of Ukraine

[occult-roommates]

A new beginning to an old story

Around five days after their walk in the park, Athena felt ready to invite Akva to her new apartment. The reason it took so long is mostly because she needed to clean it first, and also for Akva to have some free time in between her retail job and flying lessons, but now it was time.

Athena: Tadah! Akva: Oh wow, congratulation on getting your own place. It's actually pretty decent. Athena: Why are you surprised by that? Akva: Cause like, have you seen my apartment? I live with six grown adults and one baby, but we only have two bedrooms but Charlie refuses to share hers except with the baby. We barely have enough space, privacy is like a foreign concept to me now after living like this for more than three years. Athena: I mean, I'm just saying, I only have one bedroom, but I think it's spacious enough I could get at least one roommates. Akva: Also, I was about to ask how you can afford it, but I mean, it's the spice district, most people in the area don't make that much money in the first place. Athena: That's because Paisley pays me good. Like I said, I could have a roommate to make it easier but I don't absolutely need one. Especially since in college I had one that must be from Hell. Like imagine a dude who refuses to shower more than once a week in spite of being a gym rat, would leave his dirty dishes everywhere to the point we had bugs infestation multiple times, and would punch holes into walls on a regular basis. Even had to bail him out of jail after a DUI with the money I needed to pay for a new computer. Oh and also he'd let his used condoms around the apartment as a way to assert dominance over my "beta" ass. Akva: Cause this guy was getting laid???!!!

Anyway, Athena kept showing Akva around the place. It wasn't that decorated to her personality yet, 50% because she couldn't afford it yet, 50% because the landlord wouldn't let her repaint that sickly green or move the furnitures around that much.

Then, the two women sat down on the couch to continue their little chat.

Athena: Fun fact, you can see by the window the exact place where that plane landed in the Myshun river a few years ago. Akva: Oh wow, that's cool. I remember recently, Ralf and I went to an aviation museum that's in southern New York in hope of seeing part of that plane, but turns out it's in North Carolina. We still had fun though, after the museum we went to eat at the shadiest roadside dinner known to man. Athena: Who are you talking about? Akva: Ralf is my new father figure, you should meet him, he is really nice.

Akva then leaned in for a hug. It felt good to finally have a close friend back in town. It felt even more special now that she knew Athena was actually happy and not just pretending. Though, it did messed her up that she literally had no idea what she was going through. Then again, in her defense, she was living on the other side of the country, even if Athena was visibly unhappy, she couldn't have known. Yeah, they did saw each other from time to time, like when they briefly dated which caused Akva to get pregnant, but still, she could have very well hid how she felt.

Akva: And you know, it would feel even more special if instead of introducing you to him as my friend...

Akva tapped her laps and told Athena to sit here, so she did. Now that they were in a more intimade position, step 2.

Akva: I'd introduce you as my girlfriend.

Athena looked at her all red and then, they made out on the couch, as the cameraman panned away as to not creep on them. Maybe their first attempt at dating did not ended up super well, and let's be real, ruined Akva's life for a year, but this time is the right time. Round 2 will be different, round 2 will have a happy ending.

Prev - Next

[anonymousdandelion]

B’Chol Dor VaDor

So, today’s writing prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial was “you’re not alone.”

I could only only think of one thing, and almost opted not to share the result. But here it is. Be aware that this is heavier and... rawer than my usual subject matter (although, I hope, also ultimately hopeful), and it is written in the context of rising antisemitism in the US and globally. It is particularly written in the context of the “Day of Hate” which Neo-Nazi groups are threatening for tomorrow.

It is also written in the context of a long, long history of suffering, and the past and present of a rich community that has survived and continues to survive through and despite all those who try to stop us.

Esther went to sleep that Friday night expecting to have nightmares. The subject that had hung over her all day — that she’d seen in the news first thing in the morning after washing her hands, and that had dominated discussion at the dinner table that evening, looming dark and ugly behind the flickering glow of the candles, underpinning her indecision about what to do the following day — seemed all but tailored to that effect.

Her anticipation proved well-founded.

They stormed through the synagogue, in her dream, armed with spraypaint and swastikas and guns. Stormed at her, her friends, her family…

She lost sight of them in the chaos and somehow ended up at the public library. There, Esther fled to the familiar children’s area, sure she’d blend in there or all places, with people all around and the safety and security she’d always felt amongst the books.

But even there, they came at her from behind the bookshelves, monsters that, even in dreaming, were terrifyingly human and real. The other library patrons turned away, said nothing, did nothing, until they eventually faded away entirely. The library backdrop faded, too. And then it was just her and them, caught in a dark, amorphous room with no escape.

Dirty Jew, they said to her, and hurled other slurs she’d never even heard spoken aloud. They hurled worse things, too, and there was no one who cared, absolutely no one…

She woke, heart pounding.

Or thought she did, until she looked around her and saw, lining the walls of her own bedroom… people. Several people. Some faces she knew, though she had seen them only long ago, or only in peeling pictures in old albums. Others Esther had never seen, yet felt she knew anyway.

Family, her heart sang, as much as it had cried Danger not long before.

I’m scared, she told the gathered people, though she knew it was not they that frightened her. I’m scared.

I know, Estele, said a rough, caring voice that Esther had last heard in a hospice room five years before. And one of the women came forward; pinched her cheek in the way that had always made Esther squirm. I was scared, too, zisele, when they came for us in the old country. Bubbie gestured at the group, and in the logicless way of dream-knowledge, Esther knew they were generations upon generations of her ancestors. We were all scared.

B’chol dor vador, said another voice from someone in the ring, in rhythm reminiscent of a familiar tune. Omdim aleinu v’chaloteinu…

Moishe! someone scolded him, when he stopped. You have to finish the verse! The last line is the most important part!

It’s not the part that’s relevant right now, argued another person.

Nu, I was going to get to it in a minute! Moishe complained, but someone else called out at the same time, What are you talking about? Of course it’s relevant! It’s always relevant! It’s the whole point!

It—

And the assembly in Esther’s dream-bedroom burst into energetic bickering; a sort of chaos and conflict completely different from the sort that had tormented the nightmare.

This chaos felt like home.

Incredibly, and with immense relief at the feeling, she found herself laughing.

Well, said her Bubbie wryly, we were supposed to give you a pep talk. To remind you you’re not alone. That our people have been through this in the past, that we got through it every time and that we will again. But—

Esther hugged her, and dream or no dream, it felt like a hug.

I mean it, Bubbie said sternly, squeezing back. You aren’t alone. And that’s true in the living world, too. Our community. They may come for us, may catch some of us… but always we outlive them in the end. They won’t win…

…There was sunlight on their faces, bright and insistent, and Esther awoke.

She lay in bed a minute, reflecting on her night and the vague images of dreams already flowing quietly away from her waking memory.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

[trekwiz]

I currently have a "desk job." I definitely couldn't handle retail, but my last role was a physical job.

As a streaming producer, most of my work included hauling heavy gear. Across a site; sometimes across state lines. And basically building a production space from scratch.

A lot of lifting, bending, crawling. Work in tight spaces: we had one setup with a curved desk fully against a wall, the same width as the room. Any time we had to replace a cable or add new gear, I had to crawl under the desk and squeeze into a standing position, between the desk and wall.

I got diagnosed with degenerative disk in my 30s from my career. That kind of physical work.

I like my desk job a lot better. But you can't just slot anyone into it. It doesn't require a credential; other companies prefer a PMP, but we don't. Broadcast is specialized experience, but classrooms and credentials are not the barrier.

Producers on the team who have background to understand it consider it to be overwhelming: they strongly do not want my job. I know, because I advocated for promoting internally when we had openings. They refused because of how difficult the work is.

We filled the roles with people who have experience in the same industry. They were "comfortable" after 3 months of training. That means they could lead projects mostly independently. 2 years later, they're still coming to me for direction on a weekly basis because a lot of our work is highly complex. For people who understand it.

If you pluck someone out of any other job to do it, they're going to fail; they'll leave if they don't get fired. And I mean that in both directions of the nonexistent scale of skilled vs unskilled work: you can't take a scientist out of the lab and have them do my job successfully. Medical doctors will fail much faster. I know this--they're among my clients who turn to me for guidance on the technologies I support.

We also had someone clueless in an "unskilled" desk position for about a year. This individual was absolutely not capable of handling "a basic desk job." They're directly responsible for the success I've had in re-positioning the role as a skilled position.

They were a complete and total disaster in the role; they actively made everyone else's job more difficult and unpleasant. Their peer had to fix upwards of 80% of their work. They wouldn't communicate about their progress, so others missed deadlines--you don't get a do-over in live broadcast, so that greatly increased everyone's stress. Clients would get incorrect information and complain on a regular basis.

They would refuse to fix problems, and make the false claim that they did it correctly, even if their error was openly visible with their signature on it.

This person received personal training for months, written step-by-step documentation of their process, and performed the same tasks every day. But they'd complain or refuse the work if someone else in a different functional area wouldn't give them the exact step-by-step instructions to complete the same basic tasks each time.

The idea that just anyone is capable of doing "a desk job" is based on not knowing what constitutes "a desk job."

I would also add that the entry level desk jobs most likely to have their skill trivialized in this way are administrative assistants. It's a career that is still largely dominated by women; their employers significantly undervalue and underpay their skilled labor already. There are outliers, but this typically an undervalued position.

The amount of time management and organizational skills needed to do that role successfully often goes unnoticed. They need specific people-skills to encourage colleagues and vendors to do work outside of their norm, and to smooth over scheduling mishaps. They require great communication skills that not everyone has.

Trivializing the skill it takes to do their job helps keep them at the bottom of the pay scale. And importantly. Doing that doesn't lift up anyone else, except for the highly paid executives who are pocketing the saved labor costs.

[classicsubliminalbo]

Elsa at the Fleur-de-lis Fashion Show

Originally published Nov 17, 2015 This series has been retconed

Don't miss The Fleur-de-lis Fashion Show, only on CBS; America's number one network for lowbrow TV-14 porn!

Elsa felt groggy as she came back to life. It was the first moment of clarity that she had experienced in months, and in those first few seconds she tried to piece together what had happened, how she had ended up here. It was hard to recall anything, given her current circumstance: she was stuffed into a small booth, not unlike the kinds you would have your photo taken in. Where there would normally be a camera there was a small television screen, and around Elsa's neck were a large pair of headphones. Elsa was naked, sweaty, her heart pounding faster than a mouse running a 10k. Her fingers were still instinctively working her moist pussy, and though she wanted to stop the remnants of her conditioning told her to continue. The screen was still captivating, but without the personalized conditioning track playing in her ears, drowning all possibility of willful thought, Elsa was able to fight the brainwashing that had claimed so many other models before. The same program that had dominated her so many times before. Vague memories came flooding back to her--the day she signed her contract, the first time she sat before this same video, completely surrendered her will over to the Goddess Maxwell.

Goddess Maxwell, a long moan escaped Elsa's lips as she thought the name of the woman who owned her. The Goddess would want me to put my headphones back on. The Goddess would want her to finish the program. Elsa's body was on fire as she pleasured herself, imagining how wonderful it would feel to surrender once again, visualizing the reward she would receive. All she had to do was slip those headphones back over her ears. But there was something awakening in Elsa's mind. A thought: this might be her only chance to escape. It was just enough resistance for Elsa to quit masturbating, and hesitantly she slid the booth's pink curtain and stepped out into the real world. Elsa turned around to see that she had been sitting in just one of a whole row of booths, a brainwashing station for all of the models taking part in the show. Above the booth she had exited: Elsa H. A chill ran down her spine as she recognized the familiar moans of her fellow models behind their curtains. She knew she had to run, but curiosity was always trying to get the better of her.

The booth next to Elsa's was labeled "Candice S.," and when she pulled back the curtain she found Candice violently convulsing in absolute obedient bliss. "Yes!" Candice cried. "Obey! Will...Obey! Goddess, yes!" Elsa watched with horrified fascination as the orgasms piled on top of Candice, knowing that she had been experiencing a similar kind of mania just a few minutes earlier. Perhaps, Elsa thought, her orgasms had been so violent that they knocked her headphones loose, freeing her from the trance. Candice, meanwhile, had fallen limp, her eyes staring vacantly at the television screen, mouth hung open as drool dripped down over her breasts.

Elsa stumbled away from the booths, wandering around the backstage area as she tried to find an exit. Her legs were like jello as she battled the lingering effects of her brainwashing. If anyone were to spot her, they would certainly send her back to her booth, so Elsa made a plan to act natural. And natural around here meant vacant and compliant. But it was hard to convince anyone when she was completely naked and had the motor control of a toddler. She tried to use the curtain to maintain her balance, but lost her grip and toppled to the floor.

"Oh, thank goodness!" When Elsa sat up she saw two women standing before her: Stephanie, the intern in charge of the brainwashing station, and Candice, fresh from her conditioning. "I would have been so fired if I lost you," Stephanie breathed, no doubt worried that she'd be subjugated to Maxwell's brainwashing program like last year's intern. "Honestly, I thought if one of you escaped it would be Miranda, like last year...you've always been such a good girl, Elsa."

"No," Elsa whispered as she realized Stephanie was holding a pair of headphones in her hand. "No, please," She tried to crawl away, but her energy was depleted.

Stephanie closed in fast, and while Elsa tried to plead, Candice tried to rationalize in her own slave-like way. "We belong to Goddess Maxwell, Elsa. She gives us purpose. We are Fleur-de-lis."

"No!" Tears streamed down Elsa's cheek. "I don't want to be a slave anymore! I want to be me! I want to be," The headphones were secured around Elsa's ears, and the outside was fading away once again as the orders became her world. "Me...want to be...m...me..." Elsa didn't even have to masturbate this time; she had Candice to help her along.

"I am...Fleur-de-lis..." Elsa moaned. "I belong...to Goddess...Maxwell..."

[941injapan]

May 29th --- Shibuya and Harajuku + Meiji

Today we went to Shibuya and Harajuku, as well as the Meiji shrine. Something I picked up yesterday was just how advanced the fashion game is here in Japan. I was expecting designer brands, one of those cases of flexing wealth by wearing it on your body, but I was quite mistaken. I saw so many people, especially women, with so many different cuts and materials and styles and themes, it was honestly quite refreshing as if these people were some sort of character. I can see how global influences congregate here in Shibuya, as the Japanese as a people act as free worldwide marketing by pursuing such fashion. Harajuku is ground zero for new fashion that hasn't made trending status yet, and I was happy to see all of these people looking for new ways to express themselves in Japan. From a broader perspective, I think that Japan, especially its young people, seek identity and find solace by expressing everything you need to know in one glance. In a population as dense as Tokyo, what makes any 1 person stand out in that sea of humans? That answer might lie in how the Japanese dress and choose to show their identity. Another thing I wanted to note was just how cool the Meiji Jingu shrine and stadium were. Having such a lush and green space in the middle of the city was absolutely insane to see. The sake barrels were an interesting touch, and the main temple area was ornate and grand. Something that crossed my mind thinking about the Meiji Stadium was the 2020 Olympics. Back at home, I have an Adidas shirt I found on clearance that celebrated the 2020 Olympics, but it never really happened. I wonder, since the impact of this stadium’s construction and many more riveted the world with state-of-the-art architecture, I wonder what the world would have done had the 2020 Olympics taken place. Would Japan’s foreign recognition grow just as much with that influx of people for the games, or would have it had no effect? I guess we will never know.

In the readings, the book talks about the concept of “soft power” and Japan’s image abroad. I think this concept is very interesting, and this power has grown substantially in the past 5-6 years. Soft power describes a non-military or physical influence on world affairs. Japan, among its normal economic goods, produces a worldwide desired product in the form of ideas, stories, and fashion. These things have effects that reach us in America from thousands of miles away. As for the many scholarly opinions on Japan's image of cute/cool cultural influence, I find many of the book’s differing points to be valid. On one hand, you have a culture dominated by things that are cute and feminine, which many people of the world love, which then brings in money and the market. Yet, this image may lead some to think Japan is weak, which is unhealthy, especially for a group so homogenous here in Japan. It seems Japan is at a turning point once again, deciding if it wishes to exercise this soft power, or bolster nationality and strength, per its more traditional beliefs mentioned in the Japanese history reading for today.

Once again, pictures are in the document!

[doctornanitesreblogs]

It's a myth that women in the past didn't have jobs. Everything you know is wrong.

So i've heard it time and time and time and time again that women in the past didn't have jobs. As a history buff who reads non fiction about history all day every day I can tell you this simply isn't true. I have come across story after story of women having jobs in the middle ages, 1700s and 1800s and throughout the 20ths century. The image of the "angel of the house" was very much a middle-class ideal and not a working-class reality. Economics dictated that not only both parents but in most cases the children as well needed to work.  The reality for many working-class families of the 19th century was that it was absolutely essential for the wife to work, and to work hard. The days of the 9-5 were decades away; instead many worked on average 12-15 hours a day, every day, and not just in what we might consider "normal" women's jobs such as domestic service, charwoman, laundress or shirt-maker.  On the contrary, in districts of Norwich, for example, more than 50% of women who are recorded as having a job are married. In towns in East Anglia and in London on average more than 30% of married women are recorded as working, and this matches with what other historical records can show us. Women wanted to work but were often pushed out of the workforce when new laws were passed. Married women, in particular, were vilified for being employed during the Great Depression, since the assumption at the time was that they were already provided for by a spouse. In fact, many businesses outright banned married women from working, and in 1932, even the federal government intervened, decreeing that only one spouse could work a government job at any given time; by 1940, twenty-six states also limited the employment of married women in government jobs. The federal bill was repealed just five years later—but by then, countless women had already given up their jobs. Women even had jobs in the middle ages

Records of women who worked in towns include, but are not limited to, the following occupations: hat-making, cobbling, glover-making, girdle-making, haberdashery, embroidering, purse-making, cap knitting, spinning and silk weaving. They were involved in the food industry in the areas of brewing of ale, butchery, innkeeping, selling garlic, fresh bread, flour, salt, candles, butter, cheese, fish and poultry. While many of the textile arts were dominated by men, embroidery seems to have a larger percentage of women workers than other guilds. Records from the very end of the 13th century show that of the 94 registered embroiderers in Paris, 79 were women.

It may come as a surprise to some that women were also employed as chandeliers, iron mongers, smiths, goldsmiths, skinners, bookbinders, painters, spicers and farriers. Possibly these were widows who were able to carry on their husband's trade. Shown at right is a woman blacksmith or farrier at work from the Holstein Bible from the 1330s.

Source 1 Source 2 Source 3