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@aaaaaaaaerrrrrt
Tag master post
Also, racists, fascists, terfs, and minors dni
i need to be nonverbal and petted an leashed and not allowed on furniture and put my head on my handler's knee
I double over and drop my sword, air knocked from my lungs by an easy swing of the queen's mace which is decidedly less ceremonial than I'd thought. Spiking pain courses through my body; I hear my sword clatter to the floor of the throne room. Before I can recover to think she's trapped the handle under her boot and is standing over my body, doubled over in pain. I can only look up at her and let the fear flash through my eyes at the sight of her stern, cold expression.
For a moment—just a moment—her eyes soften. Inspiration? Curiosity? Then her severe expression is back, and with a wave of her hand the guards take me roughly, painfully, by my arms down to the dungeon. I pass my co-conspirators on the way, but we are kept far from each other.
A week passes. More. I lose track of the days in the lightless cell. I am certain that any day, I will be executed. Instead the time ends and I am led to a bathhouse deep in the palace, scents wafting through big windows looking into the courtyards to the east and west, flooded with the first rays of daylight. I blink at the harsh light as the guards—much more gentle now—strip and coerce me into a bath, rubbing me with soaps and perfumes which smell of fresh harvests and the sea. They comb and rub shampoo into my hair, their fingers carding through it with an unyielding care. Every inch of me is scrubbed clean of the filth from my time to now. I can barely recognize myself in the mirror as I’m taken from the bath and patted dry, dressed in light silks of bright colors: pastel greens and reds, the lightness of color and material I know to be indicative of low rank and low activity status. Finally, I’m led back to the throne room; empty but for the queen.
She wears colors which are dark reflections of my own, richly deep crimson with twisting vine motifs and thick violet blooms over the heavy cloak, all beneath the crown. She holds the bronze and iron mace she first beat me with, shining in the light through the high windows. I'm shoved down to kneel before her. Then the guards leave, tears of overwhelmed sensation beading in my eyes as the door shutting echoes through the throne room.
“I will speak; you will listen.” Her words bear down over me, and I can do nothing but nod and continue to gaze down. I hear her stand, footfalls ringing in my ears. Approaching. Her boots in the center of my vision. Two gloved fingertips under my chin lift my head to meet her eyes, deep brown wells I can never look away from. “Your rebellion has failed. Your co-conspirators are dead or again under my command. You are alone.”
The truth of her words pierces my mind, and the tears flow faster down my cheeks. “But you have a use to me.”
It’s all I can do to stop myself from begging— please, please, anything! What can I do to make myself be something worth keeping? I hold my tongue and hold her gaze, her expression cool and collected in stark contrast to my own tear-streaked visage. “I admit, it was a bold attempt, and you are a pretty thing. Had you succeeded, you could gain common support easily by your looks.”
My thoughts stop, hitched in confusion. I feel my jaw slacken dumbly.
“I have had difficulty in conceiving an heir; courtiers have been tiresome, at best. What I need is an obedient boy who will supply me. Stand.” My body moves on instinct, and the queen begins to circle me gradually. Her hand brushes over the fabric, my body easily responsive in the cold air. A brief lift of my pectoral muscle, a glide over my upper arm and shoulder. Whenever she’s in view I find myself looking at her eyes, watching her watching each jumpy reaction of my body, and when she slips behind me I stare forward. She makes corrections to my posture; straighter back, wider stance. Then, behind me, she cups my crotch and I can’t help but jolt as my cock becomes achingly hard in her hand, plain to see and feel as it lifts the thin layers over it.
“You are going to provide me an heir, and they will be the embodiment of my domain’s unity, and you will be an exemplary father.” Tears fall from my face and I know in the core of me that she will mold me precisely as she’s said.
Two princes are captured from their respective kingdoms and are made into sex slaves. They get dressed up in pretty jewelry and silks and are made to fuck each other for their captors entertainment.
Maybe they're chained together....
You're right, my apologies 🫡😔
You were hired to protect me. A strong, fearless knight, a foot taller than me and double my weight in pure muscle. My father, the king, had entrusted my safety to you.
Yet, here you are, raping me.
As you had been leading me through the forest, a strange magic overtook the trees. Roots tore out of the ground, scattering rocks and dirt as they wrapped around both of us.
I was pulled to the ground, earthy tentacles holding each wrist and ankle in a vice. You were brought to your knees, arms pulled behind your arched back, still managing to look over me.
The roots wormed their way under your armor, tearing through it as easily as they tore the cotton of my trousers. They fondled your muscled body, massive tits jiggling, balls swaying, cock worked to hardness. One began to work its way into your asshole. I saw the tip, thin and tapered, before it disappeared behind you and you howled. It quickly grew in girth, but it did not stop. You panted and thrashed helplessly as it filled your guts. You were strong, but this was an attack you had no way to defend against. As I saw the roots swarming beneath the taught skin of your belly, I felt relief that it wasn’t me suffering. The roots still held strong, but they had no interest in me past stripping me of my pants, leaving me exposed and humiliated. Still, as pre cum dripped on the forest floor between your legs, I knew I had escaped with the lesser of the two evils.
Until the tentacles in you stopped moving. Your abdomen was distended and rock-hard with stilled roots. You panted, tears rolling down your face. I grimaced, maybe you weren’t as strong as you had looked. Then, my legs were spread, and you, manipulated by the mass of tentacles in your body, were moved over me.
I screamed at you, that I would have you beheaded if you laid a finger on me. How dare you! My threats did nothing as roots maneuvered your cock into me. I shrieked, your cock as massive as the rest of you pummeled past my entrance. I’ll have you killed for taking my most precious gift! A common knight as yourself.
The tentacles pulled you back for a moment, just long enough to flip me around and force my ass into the air. Then, you slammed back into me in one motion. The air was knocked out of me, my eyes rolled back into my head. Your constant mantra of sorry’s being cut off was just barely audible over the blood rushing to my ears.
I continue to scream and berate you as you were thrust back and forth, your body nothing more than a puppet for these trees to control. Tentacles danced over my body, but never once dipped into my holes as they had yours. Despite this, I was certain I had received the worst of our two fates. You were nothing but a talented- not so talented, after all- knight, while I was the child of the king. You were expendable. I was not meant to suffer like this.
The tentacles grew bored and switched our positions. You were sprawled onto your back and I was air-lifted to sit on your cock straight up. Then, I could see what had cut off your words. A tentacle had worked its way past your lips. I could see the bulge in your throat, but I had no idea how far it had reached. I saw you were still crying, and it disgusted me. The roots lifted me until just the tip of your cock remained inside, and dropped me. I sobbed as you bruised me deep inside.
I noticed the roots inside of you had started moving back and forth, in and out. The sight of them moving under your skin disgusted me, so I looked away, but I could still hear your gagging beneath me.
My head snapped back when I felt your hands grab my hips, the tentacles around your wrists forcing you to grab for me. “How dare you?!” Mid-rant, a tentacle darted between my teeth, the trees finally having enough of me. It threaded itself past my tongue, past my gagging, and into my spasming stomach, showing me just how deep the one in your throat was. My jaw felt like it was being torn from my skull with the mass of this thing. It tasted like dirt as it rubbed back and forth on my tongue.
We changed positions once again. We were rolled over, me now under you once more, face to your chest. My legs were forced to wrap around your hips, you on your knees, elbows on either side on my head. You rutted into me, deeper than I would’ve thought possible. Even as I felt your seed jet into me and squirt out around your cock, the roots did not allow you to slow. I screamed in outrage around the tentacle in my mouth. But, I was starting to feel a different kind of frustration as well. A frustration that you had came and I had yet to.
We remained on the forest floor for quite some time. I lost count of how many times you had came inside of me. My stomach had started to bloat a bit with the load. The tentacles continued to change our positions periodically, but I had yet to come. I was a sobbing, begging mess by the time a tentacle decided to work its way into me alongside of you. I felt certain I would tear, but I also found I didn’t much care, chasing anything to bring me closer to the edge.
The tree started to pump something inside of me. Little bulbs made their ways through the root and into my guts, each one squeezing and milking your cock as the tentacle in your ass milked your prostate, causing you to endlessly pump cum into me with the deposits of seeds that were causing my stomach to grow. Only after I was filled to burst, looking 6 months pregnant, did the tentacles begin to recede. You were dropped on top of me, your weight crushing the mass in my guts, causing me to moan. As both of our bodies were vacated of those roots, our limbs free, we were both too boneless to move, your cock still inside of me, us both panting and crying.
I recovered first, shoving you off of me. I dragged my shaking body to its knees and straddled your face, sinking down. I commanded you to eat me out, still having had not cum, and you had no choice. Despite this, I still promised you that I would reconsider your execution if you had a talented enough tongue. Your hands gripped either globe of my ass as you set to work with a new found energy. I gasped, and part of me wanted to reprimand you for touching me, but the way you sloppily made out with my fucked-out hole had me wordless. Your own cum dripped out and covered your chin. After a moment of trying to find my words, my hand fell over one of your wrists and you stilled for a moment.
“Finger me,” I commanded, and you did so eagerly, quickly working in one finger at a time until you were practically fisting me before feeling any true resistance by my loose walls. I came with a scream, grinding down onto your face and hand. Despite the uncomfortable position, you continued to service me through my long-awaited orgasm. Perhaps, I would keep you around for a while as my personal guard after all. Though, we would have to figure out what to do about my belly.
Into the early morning hours, I had you fishing every last seed out of me.
Tentacle monster that hides itself inside of a ‘shell’ to perfectly imitate a human. It looks, feels, talks, moves, and acts like a human, if only a pretty big and tall one. It goes to work, has its own place, runs errands, and socializes.
But it might get you alone and split its shell open for all its tentacles to fly out. Binding to keep you from running, caressing your body and fucking every hole you’ve got for hours on end. If you’re lucky, when it’s finished it’ll secrete a substance to knock you out and make you forget about the last few hours, leaving you somewhere and pretending it had nothing to do with your mystery ordeal
But if you’re unlucky (or I guess lucky based on your perspective), it’ll decide it likes you a bit TOO much, sealing its shell with you inside of it with no problem thanks to its size. As it goes back to its daily life, no one will suspect a thing while its tentacles violate all your holes 24/7. Even if you tried to scream, what little sound you could get past the tentacle in your throat will be muted by its shell. The people just inches away from you on the train won’t hear a thing
You can feel vibrations passing through its tentacles as it talks and laughs. Hear the rumbling and squelching around you as it digests its food. Feel its form shift and bend as it moves about. Your entire world is this monster now, both inside and out
of course the appeal of a rich spouse has far less to do with being able to afford nice things and far more to do with the extreme power imbalance created by only one partner being able to afford to pay a divorce lawyer for a contested divorce
the idea of threatening divorce and being told "with whose money? and where are you going to stay? and who's going to pay for your phone bill and insurance and your copays?" in a condescending and amused tone is just so hot to me.
"hmm? no one, that's who. anyway, i'm having dinner with a client and his family tonight. they usually serve rather heavy dishes, so make me a salad for when i get home, would you? i'll be back quite late, but i expect you to be awake and waiting for me. and wear something pretty. consider it your apology for this." i hate you and i'm going to cum in my pants
Where the fuck is the cnc with the top being used. Where's the cnc where the top is only useful for his big stupid cock and is made to prove that he can at least use that right? Where's tje scenes where a guy is crying and begging to stop but he's hard and the other person is riding him and and he's pleading that he doesn't want to get them pregnant?
Where's the tops laying dejected and used on the cold hard floor with a few dollar bills floating down to land in front of their face and the camera cuts there? Where are the scenes of a top drugged out of its brain, fear plain in its eyes but unable to move as it hears someone above unzipping its pants to pull out its penis, sinking down on the dildo and making it moan involuntary and to its great shame? Where's the scenes of someone waking up spooning a stranger with their hand on the stranger's lower stomach, only realizing a moment later the warmth engulfing their penis?
you should keep me drugged up, chained to a pipe in your bathroom until i'm losing my mind from the boredom and biting my arms just to feel some kind of stimulation. make me sleep on the cold hard tile and wake me up by splashing me with cold water. you can do whatever you like; threaten me until i cry, piss on me, rape me, take out all of your frustrations by beating your personal, whiny little punching bag. i hope the days blur together into a slurry of release. when my nose is bleeding and my eye is pretty and blackened and my ribs are throbbing and my skin is bruised purple and red, i'll thank you, i'll clean your boots with my mouth, i'll savor the taste of every unidentifiable pill you place on my tongue (and your thumb, while i'm at it), and i'll wonder how i ever survived outside of this room, without you. you changed my life.
Formal apologies are great but nothing hits like a panicky frenzied apology while they’re suffering the consequences of pissing you off
Left outside to think about her behaviour
need to become a girls desk pet while she games.. kissing and licking at her thighs all the time and getting throatfucked whenever she needs to let off steam. my collar clipped under her desk so I can't get too far. if I'm lucky she'll slip her hand down between rounds and let me lick and suck her fingers too before pushing me down on her cock <33333
Piercing a puppy's tongue and attaching a little golden chain to the stud. The other end of the chain clips to its collar to make sure the little thing's tongue is always hanging out and dripping drool. Telling it no complaining allowed, puppies need to be panting all the time for their health you know, if this one can't remember to do it all by itself, then Master has to step in. And if that means puppy's mouth is always open and drooling and inviting for Master's cock, that's just an added benefit.
the thought of having some cute thing tied up and gagged and then forcing it to breed you….
“are you sure you’re ok with us doing this without a condom? i’m not on birth control...” as its eyes get wide and it shakes its head. of course, you respond with “thank you!!” and sink down on its cock
“please can you breed me?” as it struggles against restraints and makes desperate pleas, muffled under the gag— “thank youuuu~"
seeing its eyes roll back as it finally stops fighting back and shudders, cumming inside you... you stay on top, pressing its face into your chest, petting its pretty hair under the guise of aftercare while it shakes and cries and tries to process what just happened.
Did i ever post this here
loooove sabotaged commands. getting told to stay still whilst being violently overstimulated. getting commanded to speak while fingers are shoved in your mouth. getting told not to cry whilst they hurt you almost to your limit. it’s sooo fucking good. show your power over me, that you can tell me what to do and punish me when I don’t even if you did it on purpose. just to make me squirm
There's something I find deeply frustrating about kink advice directed at subs which says things like "Outside of the fantasy you should be the one really in control" or "Dominants have to earn your submission, not the other way around". It frustrates me in ways that are hard to properly express.
I understand why that advice exists. On some levels, it's true. There is a level of control that submissives need to retain for safe play, and dominants who demand or expect submission purely for the fact that they are a dominant are bad play partners, and generally assholes. Parts of the message can be important because a lot of inexperienced (or badly-experienced) subs can end up neglecting their own agency and assuming that's just part of being a submissive.
But there's also an imbalance to it. Something that reinforces the personhood of the submissive in a dynamic while leaving that of the dominant unacknowledged. Agency for me but not for thee. Not "Nobody has to do anything in a scene that they aren't comfortable with", but "You as a submissive should be in control of the contents of a scene for your own comfort". Not "Nobody owes their sexuality, their dominance, their submission, their time and energy to anyone else they don't feel like giving it to", but "Dominants should have to earn the privelage of your submission".
There is an assumption that permeates a lot of kink spaces, that only a sub can be made uncomfortable, that only a sub can have their boundraries crossed, that only a sub has need of safeties and negotiation and being approached respectfully, because nominally the dominant is in control. We are assumed to be safe and comfortable on the basis that we're the ones who give the orders or whatever, but that's not how it works.
Dominants can and do get sexually harrassed by subs. I've been messaged *very* aggressively by some strangers in my time who fail to understand that their submission doesn't change the fact they're demanding sexual favours from a stranger. I've heard stories of dominants in abusive relationships where their consent was taken as an assumption at all times. There's a lot of kink advice out there that tells subs they have the agency to do only what they want, but fails to pair it with the necessary follow up that they also have the agency to do harm.
It just frustrates me to no end to see true and important sentiments phrased in ways that position dominants as emotionless kink dispensers to be evaluated on their quality and respectfulness of the sub's supreme importance, rather than as a person who you should communicate and build mutual respect with. Not "Talk with your dominant about boundraries", but "Evaluate dominants based on their respect for your boundraries". It's just this subtle, insidious thing that itches at me every time I see it in a supposed kink education post, I feel like I'm losing my mind over here.