I'm a guy looking to become a femboy or a shemale. Buuuuuut... My REAL goal is to be transformed, through magic or science, into a massive furry futanari with a big cock and leaky tits, preferably feline or draconian in species, more preferable would be both at the same time. Always open to rp. Usually, I prefer my fursona, but if you want I can try a different character. (here's my discord if you wanna chat! Aiden Moonclaw#3758)
Hello!😌 I was @embersmarae before I got sent to the void. Please reblog and help me find my sloooty moots and friends I would greatly appreciate it!❤️ Don’t be afraid to double msg me 🫶
@emberscollection was my back up with all my posts and tags
I will be treating this one as my previous (@embersmarae)
Now, if you’re one of the few survivors of the futanari Apocalypse, here’s a few pointers on evading contamination.
1) don’t have sex. The fluids of a carrier of the futa virus are still powerful, even if they don’t appear to have changed at all yet. Here’s some things to look out for in your friends/coligues. You’ll notice an increased sexual drive, as well as small blemishes beginning to appear on their face. Usually around the lips, eyes, and cheeks. These will soon become permanent makeup, one of the many changes that’ll take place. They may also have an enlarged clit or member, and larger nipples as well. After that, you’ll see their chests, hips, and rear end increase in size. Some who are infected increase in belly size as well, but its different for every one. If you see any of these changes, inform as many as you can of your group, and vacate the area, leaving the infected behind.
2) hazmat suits don’t work. Once the virus has made contact with plastic or rubber, it immediately begins to transform it to suit its needs. If they’re in the form of clothing, they’ll begin to tighten around the body, transforming into latex, becoming a very salacious outfit. It can make contact with the suit through three means: saliva(see rule four), breast milk, or semen, spraying or dripping the fluid onto the victim from one of the infected.
3) don’t attempt to study it. Putting this virus in a lab is a surefire way to make a futa slime. These creatures are made when the virus absorbs enough plastics, rubber, and chemicals. They hunt down uninfected, spraying them with highly mutative fluids to make them into their desired mates.
4) the futa virus sometimes enhances bazaar attributes of the human body, including the genitals, the mamary glands, and, some times, the tongue and saliva glands. This last one increases the tongue’s length, strength, and dexterity. The saliva gland will over produce slobber, coating the tongue in thick slime. It may also increase pheromones, sweat production, semen production, and body hair. In some cases, the tongue’s nerve endings mutate, causing them to find things they’d previously found disgusting to be delicious. In extreme cases, this may even make each taste bud function like a clitoris, cumming from various tastes and sensations.
5) keep an eye out. The futa virus can change one’s entire being, including their personality and species. Do not attempt to reason with the infected. They love the new them. Some who were abusive and rude are turned into submissive sluts, while the oppressed find themselves with powerful bodies and the personality to back it up. Some turn into anthropomorphic creatures, ranging from mammals, fish, birds, reptiles, even some plants, and mythical creatures.
…
Now, dear reader, you may be wondering how I know all this. The truth is I am an infected… And I find myself in the form of a great dragoness. And I enjoy a good hunt.
As soon as I saw them, I ran. Their glowing pink eyes flashing in the darkness. The heavy breathing. The smell, oh gods. That heavenly smell….
I had just enough wits about me to make a break for it. I ran and ran and ran and…
… Tripped…
They caught me, and I was knocked unconscious. I fully expected to not be the same person when I woke up.
—C====3—
When I woke I felt a lancing pain along my skull. A little bit of blood left a line of crusty black down from my temple to my cheek. I tried to rub it off, but found my hands(and my feet) had been shackled down. Looking around the space I was in, it looked like a storage room, bit instead of stuff, the room was filled with frames chained to the floor and ceiling, with people chained to them.
I called out to the one closest to me, and he woke up, his head, which was resting on his chest, jerking upwards. “Hey… Can you tell me what’s going on?”
He smirked. “Sure, kid. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you exactly what’s going to happen. They’re gonna come to you, and drip a small amount of saliva into your mouth. Then they’re gonna leave you to cultivate. Feeding you just enough to stay alive. And they’ll let you turn… But slowly, agonizingly. Once you’re fully turned, they’ll leave you up there, not so much as touching you until you pledge to serve Dom Elena. You’ll go mad with lust before they do, though. And once you’re theirs, then you’ll battle for sexual dominance in the Arena.
“I was spying on this commune for a year before I was found out… Damnable breast forms fell off, and my makeup started smearing… anyway, there’s no way to get out of here without becoming a slave… A Gladiatranny.” I gulped.
“But maybe they’ll go easy on you, if you prove you got what it takes to be a high ranking harlot.”
The gears turned in my head. “ what if when I turn… I battle this Dom for dominance?”
He bit his lip. “If you win, you get control of the commune. If you loose, you’re hers for life. She’s never said no to a challenger. But then again, she doesn’t have to.”
I felt a small part of my soul change… As a mischievous grin spread on my face.
(Like and share if you want to see the next part/conclusion.)
So I am a huge fan of sushi right? So what if there was this sushi place that was an all you can eat buffet for like, 20 bucks. With it you would of course get your choice of drink. On the menu you would have some fairly generic drinks like soda, water, ect. But the big thing that catches your eye is a in house sake that is made right there in their restaurant.
So you think "to hell with it" and order it. When it arrives you are presented with a very cloudy cream colored sake served from a pretty looking light blue, semi transparent bottle. Its flavor is relatively sweet and milky, like Sayuri but with more emphasis on the cream flavor and sweetness of it. It's not half bad and you greedily sip it down as you wait for your first order to arrive.
When your order arrives and you enjoy your first tuna roll, and then you second and third. You feel a tightness in your shirt. Thinking that it might just have been because you ate three entire sushi rolls at this point and are kind of full from it. You were a tad bloated from it but nothing too crazy. What you failed to notice though is the weight starting to pack on in your chest.
Five, six, now seven rolls in different varieties and you could have sworn you would have normally been full by now. Siping on the milky sake to wash it all down, you feel your assets. Your chest has very, very, clearly swollen up. Your bra is almost bursting at the seams with how large they have gotten. Your big soft tummy is exposed for the world to see too! Its ridden up your beach ball of a belly and is the only thing concealing your chest from the rest of the world...for now
Eight, nine rolls in everything started to become hazy, not in the sense of you getting drunk but thoughts are now becoming hard to form. It feels nice just being to sit there and eat all you want and sip on the sweet milky stuff. Your shirt that has been torn in the center would disagree.
By the tenth roll any thought of you feeling full or concern that your bust would pop out of your shirt was gone. Speaking of shirt it is almost in tatters and only leaving but so much to the imagination. A nice lady offers you the sweet cream drink again. You guzzle it down greedily as you always have, and that's when the lady mentions "ma'am please follow me to the VIP section" her words are almost hypnotic. So you waddle yourself into a section you dont remember being there, but to be fair its not like you can remember much of anything now. You see other women like you, only almost all of them are much much bigger than you are, most of them hooked up to milking machines. Some are so big that they rest atop their chest, like a big milky bed.
You're situated in a medium stall like most of the others. She puts a collar on you attached with a large bell, on it the number "47" is etched in. "Congrats on the new job 47, this is your new home now" she says softly, laying a kiss on your chest.
It's been some time since you've been here, you've honestly lost count how many days, months, years? You're still unsure. On the plus side youve been moved to a large stall, your constantly being fed sushi, on top of that they keep giving you sweet milky stuff! It's super good tasting and stuff~. Your doomed to an ever milky eternity with breasts so large moving on your own is no longer possible. Is this really what you thought a 20 dollar all you can eat buffet was going to be?
I'm mostly testing formatting stuff with this. I don't usually post my horny writing thoughts on here but I might if people are interested! nwn
Being a Dominant may start out as just fun, kinky play - but when becoming involved and entangled in most D/s dynamics, you take on certain responsibilities along with that role. Based on experience, reflections, and answers to a survey, these are the seven responsibilities of a Dominant.
A Dominant must:
1. Respect. There must be respect for the submissive - respect for their desires and wishes; respect for their nurturing and growth; respect for their consent, body, and safety. Dominance without respect becomes dangerous.
2. Protect. Taking on a submissive is a serious undertaking, and the Dominant becomes responsible for their protection and safekeeping. They must be kept protected from others and even from certain parts of themselves. Dominance without protection is powerless.
3. Direct. The Dominant must command, instruct, and guide on no uncertain terms. Directions must be clear, concise, realistic, and specific. This is the primary active role of the Dominant, to provide direction and guidance to the submissive. Dominance without direction is inadequate.
4. Inspire. It is not enough for a Dominant to simply give direction; they must inspire the submissive to obey the direction. In different dynamics, this will take different forms - submissives may be inspired by fear, pain, command presence, love, experience, or a number of other factors and qualities. Dominance without inspiration is contrived.
5. Correct. Once direction is given, the Dominant must follow through and correct any faults and shortcomings observed in the submissive’s obedience - with any discipline required to enforce the corrections. Dominance without correction is unproductive, or worse, counter-productive.
6. Nurture. Direction and correction should be given to grow and better a submissive, not just for the sake of it. A Dominant should challenge a submissive, expand their limits, and encourage their potential. Dominance without nurturing is tautological.
7. Learn. The Dominant must learn from experience, successes and mistakes, feedback from the submissive, and research. They should always be actively learning and seeking to expand their knowledge in order to better dominate and direct. Dominance without learning is irresponsible.
i just read someone’s idea of reader drinking some lactating potion on accident and was wondering how the brothers would help the reader 😭 THOUGHTS? 🎤
LEVIATHAN, ASMODEUS, BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR
2.4k words | NSFW | gn!Reader
Content warnings: due to magical mishaps, Reader has larger, lactating breasts that are vaguely described; lactation kink, breast/nipple play, breast massaging/fondling, titty fucking, fingering, oral sex.
More in the Lactation Kink series: Mammon | Solomon | Lucifer, Satan, Diavolo & Barbatos, Simeon, Karasu
LEVIATHAN
Levi invites you to his room as a way to distract you. He tries not to stare at the noticeable swell of your chest as you walk, larger and bouncier than usual.
By the time you both walk to his room, your eyes are welling up and you cross your arms try to hide the fresh wet spots staining your shirt. He rummages through his closet and hands you a black sweater—it’ll hide new stains easier, and it’s loose enough that you don’t feel too exposed.
He suggests playing one of your favorite games to distract you, but he can tell it’s not helping like he hoped it would. You make small noises of discomfort on the sofa beside him, and when the round is over, you pull the damp fabric away from your sticky skin with a frustrated curse under your breath.
The hem of his sweater rides up your belly when you stretch your arms above your head to try and relieve some of the tension in your shoulders; Levi swallows around the lump in his throat when the innocent gesture sends his mind reeling.
It’s hard not to stare at the thin stream of milky fluid running down your chest before it drips onto your thighs or soaks into the waistband of your pants. It’s hard not to think about his collection of porn and hentai that this reminds him of, and how his cock twitches in his pants when he licks his lips without even realizing it. It’s hard not to imagine what your chest would feel like in his hands, or what the fluid clinging to your nipples would taste like if he sucked one into his mouth.
You reach for his hand and pull him off the couch when you head towards his tub to rest. He turns around to give you a bit of privacy while you change into a clean shirt to sleep in. The discarded sweater you give back to him is warm and a little damp and sticky in his hands, but it still smells like you. It’s nearly impossible to resist the urge to bury his nose in it and inhale a whiff of your scent into his lungs. He sets it in his laundry hamper instead—on top, so it's easy for him to find later when you leave—and gently settles into his tub behind you.
You’re already snoring lightly, and he shoves a body pillow behind you so his persistent erection won’t rub against your back and wake you. He risks putting an arm around you, and his stomach flips when you relax under his touch.
You woke up this morning with heavy, leaking breasts after eating whatever it was that Solomon snuck onto your dinner plate last night. None of them knew what to say when you stumbled into the dining room, the buttons of your shirt strained by your larger chest and wet spots blooming around your nipples. Satan suggested finding ways to relieve the swelling—massages might help, he added with a blush.
Levi thinks he might mention it to you again when you wake up, if you’re still swollen and uncomfortable. Maybe if he’s lucky, you’ll let him help.
ASMODEUS
Asmo’s invitation to spend the day with him begins in his large soaker tub. The rivulets of sudsy bathwater that run over your skin mask the milky stream leaking from your nipples; they mix together and leave a soapy, creamy film on the water’s surface.
He stands behinds you and hums while he washes you gently with a loofah. He’s gotten little peeks of your naked chest already, but he doesn’t stare no matter how much he wants to; he wants you to relax. His priority right now is simply to pamper you, to try and wash away the unfamiliar lactonic smell that clings to your skin. He slowly replaces it with a blend of subtle rose and herbs—something a bit stronger, something that will hopefully remind you of him later on.
He helps you out of the tub after and begins patting your skin with a fluffy towel to dry you off. He can’t help the way his heart sings that you trust him enough to let him do this for you. He’s so careful when he brushes the towel against your chest, and he doesn’t draw attention to your nipples that leak more pearly liquid no matter how gentle he is when he brushes over them. Your breasts are noticeably heavier and he can tell by your hunched shoulders that their unusual weight is uncomfortable for you.
Asmo leads you to his bed and lays you back gently against the plush blankets. There’s a loose robe tied around his waist. He doesn’t bother offering you one; you won’t need it for very long even if he did. He straddles your hips and lowers his weight gently on your lower belly; his hands hover over your breasts as he explains what he wants to do next to help you.
“Won’t it make a mess? Your nice sheets…”
But he clicks his tongue and grins at you and your sweet but very misplaced concern. “They can be washed. Let me take care of you, hmm?”
He starts massaging lightly with the pad of his fingertips, moving his hands in slow circles around your breasts first. He watches your expression carefully and when you settle deeper into the mattress, he starts adding a tiny bit more pressure, creeping a touch closer to your nipples. You wince and turn your head with a whimper as the massage coaxes a steady stream of fluid to leak out and trail over the sides of your chest and onto the bedding underneath you. You knew this would happen, but your face still flares as embarrassment ripples through you.
He hushes you softly, eyes glancing back and forth between your face and your leaking breasts. “It’s going to help with the swelling. You’re doing so well. Does it feel better?”
You jerk your head with a nod against his pillow and exhale a shaky breath. “It feels—it feels okay. You can keep going.”
He wanted to relieve the pressure building in your chest, but his mind wanders to other things he’d like to do instead. He tweaks one of your nipples lightly, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger, and the gasp that escapes your lips sounds surprised, almost pleased. He brings his hand to his mouth, and you turn your head and watch his tongue lap up the dribble of fluid running down his finger. Your hips squirm underneath him but it only teases him more; his cock grows heavy and it’s leaking slightly where it bobs against your belly with each shaky breath you take.
He shuffles forward on his knees, squeezing your breasts lightly as he rests his cock in the valley between them. “Can I?”
You nod and stare as he presses your breasts together, creating a soft, pillowy vice around his cock. He tips his head as his eyes flutter closed, lips falling open as soft sighs escape him. His hands and cock smear through the sticky mixture of his own glistening precum and the little pools of milky discharge flowing from your nipples. The wet, slick sounds of his cock sliding across your skin punctuate his quiet moans and makes your own arousal flare deep in your belly and between your legs.
It doesn’t take long for him to finish—he groans your name and catches most of his release with his fingers, and he stares at the remnants he didn’t catch that splatter the tops of your breasts up to the delicate column of your throat. He wishes he could keep you like this forever, stained with his release like some sort of brand that claims you as his.
He grabs your hands instead and holds them against your chest; the cum on his fingers rubs onto yours. He’s making an utter mess of you—he’ll wash you again soon, but not yet.
“Keep rubbing them, darling,” he murmurs softly, guiding your movements with his hands, “just like that.” He watches you massage yourself as he loosens the belt around his waist and shrugs the robe off his shoulders. It falls in a heap on the floor and you bite back a moan as he slides down your body. His eyes twinkle with mischievous delight when he spreads your legs apart and kneels between your thighs. You gasp when he starts stroking you, his fingers matching your own slow, lazy rhythm.
“You won’t feel uncomfortable for long, darling,” he promises thickly, licking his lips and glancing at your heaving chest with half-lidded eyes before he lowers his head between your legs. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR
The twins lead you up the attic stairs and guide you towards the bed. You’re not sure what they have in mind—it’s unusual for Beel to join you for midday naps—but their motives become clearer when they take off their shirts and then reach for the hem of yours.
Belphie doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes roam over your swollen chest and leaky nipples, but Beel’s hand is gentle when he nudges you onto the mattress. “You’ll be more comfortable if you lay down,” he suggests, and you can practically hear the drool thickening his words.
They don’t give you much time to feel self-conscious or insecure about your body’s strange developments. Beel settles on one side of your body while Belphie curls up against your other side, effectively sandwiching you between them in a little warm cocoon of molten heat and soft affection. Each of them cups one of your breasts and they both sigh dreamily at the warm, slick sensation from the milky discharge.
Belphie props himself up so he can lean over you. He nuzzles your cheek and kisses you, softly at first before he groans deep in his chest and his lips move against yours with more urgency.
Beel stretches out along the other side of your body and runs his thumb over your nipple, and his eyes watch your face carefully for any signs of discomfort. When he sees none, he covers your nipple with his mouth and hums at the slightly sweet taste. The heat of his mouth and the sensation of his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub surprises you; you arch your back slightly, and he makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat as he pulls away. You card your hands through his damp, fiery hair to let him know you’re alright. Once he’s sure that you’re not hurt, he lowers his head and starts to suck your nipple with more vigor than before.
Belphie finally breaks away from the kiss when Beel’s hungry groans become too distracting to ignore. You barely have time to wonder what the sly smile on his face means before he latches onto your other nipple; you’re not sure whether the quiet moan that tumbles from your lips is from pleasure or pain. He’s not as gentle as Beel—he sucks just as greedily but with a hint of teeth. He’s noisy, too—his lips slurp and smack against your swollen breast but it’s not enough to hide his muffled groans.
The quiet tranquility of the attic fills with the lewd sounds of Belphie’s whiny, desperate noises and Beel’s low satisfied growls. The unusual pleasure of their lips sucking greedily at your chest slowly morphs to discomfort, and you squirm uncomfortably beneath their combined weight against your sides.
Beel lifts his head first, and even though his eyes are dark with hunger, he still glances at you with concern. Belphie is slower to respond—he pulls your nipple between his lips and releases it with a little pop, and he smacks his lips noisily.
They’re both messy from their ministrations. The bottom half of Beel’s face is slick and there’s a trickle of milky fluid dripping down his chin. Belphie’s lips are shiny too, and he licks his lips slowly to collect the creamy white discharge on the tip of his tongue; he stares at you with unabashed heat in his eyes when he swallows it down with a satisfied hum.
“What’s the matter?” Belphie asks with a pout when you shudder beneath him, even though he knows you’re not fooled by his fake innocence. “Satan said draining the excess fluid would help you feel better.”
You had no idea that the twins feeding from your chest like greedy piglets would be their way of helping you, and you hate it even more that part of you liked it. “You’re right, and it helps that they’re less…well, full,” you admit, ignoring the wolfish grin spreading across Belphie’s face, “but…be gentle, okay? They’re still sore.”
Belphie glances over at Beel and you know that they’re doing that silent twin brain thing they do—it’s amazing how they can read each other’s minds so quickly. You’re not sure what to expect, but it’s not for Beel to slide down the bed. He tugs at the waistband of your pants until you lift your hips so he can pull them off and toss them away.
“We’ll give you a little break and try again later,” Belphie murmurs as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “You taste so good, though—you can’t blame us for getting a little carried away.”
Beel’s hands spread your legs apart so he can settle comfortably between them near the foot of the bed, and you shudder when he lowers his head and breathes against the hot, sensitive skin between your thighs.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself because this is a little embarrassing,” you mumble under your breath, but your voice trails off into a groan when Beel’s lips tease at your arousal.
Belphie chuckles, glancing from your half-lidded eyes to your chest—your breasts jiggle slightly from the tremors of Beel’s tongue exploring between your legs. “Don’t be like that,” he scolds you, squeezing at your chest gently; he traces shapes onto your skin with the pearly fluid seeping from your nipple. “You know we’ll always love you, right?” he asks quietly.
You’re surprised by how vulnerable he sounds, and he grunts quietly when you curl your hand against the back of his nape and pull him down for another kiss. His mouth curls into a smirk against yours, but he finally kisses you properly when you whimper his name pathetically in a quiet plea for more.
a/n: this was requested so, if you don’t like this js skip or block me :3
as you removed your apron, revealing your beautiful curves and plump breasts, miguel’s breath caught in his throat. the sight of you was undeniably alluring, and desire welled up within him. he couldn't resist the pull any longer, his hands gliding over your bare skin as he pulled you closer. his lips found their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, peppering it with soft kisses.
“you’re irresistible," he whispered huskily, his voice filled with desire. "every curve, every part of you... drives me wild." his hands traced teasing patterns along your waist, caressing the softness of your skin. "you are the most enticing sight in this kitchen, my love." miguel chuckled softly against your skin, his touch growing bolder as he let his hands roam over your body. his voice was laced with a playful yet seductive tone. “you’re always so kinky,” you giggled as you leaned into his hungry touches.
“oh, you have no idea how kinky i can be. i’m just waiting for the right moment to show you." he moved one hand up to cup your breast, teasingly running his thumb over the hardened nipple. his lips resumed their exploration along your neck, his touch becoming more urgent with each passing moment. miguel’s movements were swift and confident as he carried you effortlessly to the bed. a hunger burned within him as he lowered your top, exposing your breasts and the sweet milk that awaited him.
his lips found their way to your exposed flesh, his mouth latching onto your nipple. he suckled gently, savoring the taste of your milk, his tongue lapping and swirling around it. a deep moan rumbled from his throat as he enjoyed the intimate connection between you, the mixture of pleasure and nourishment filling his senses. he nursed eagerly, his touch and suckling becoming more intense, his desire to please you growing with every passing second.
“oh god," he murmured with urgency, his voice muffled against your breast. "you taste so delicious. i can't get enough of you." you squirmed under his hold as he continued to suckled on your breasts. you could feel the tug from his lips as he slurped up your sweet milk and with the flick of tongue, lapped up the milk that threatened to spill from your breasts. “oh—miguel, that feels so fucking good..” your breath hitches and your body shudders as he continues his assault on your breasts.
miguel’s desire intensified as he heard your moans of pleasure and felt your squirming beneath his touch. it fueled his own arousal, his passion for you growing with every passing moment. his free hand roamed across your body, teasing and caressing your curves, heightening your pleasure. his lips trailed a path of kisses and nibbles from your breasts to your neck, his warm breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine.
he released your breast with a gentle pop, his lips and chin glistening with traces of milk. he gazed into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of longing and adoration. “you are exquisite, mi reina," he whispered, his voice laced with desire. "and i want to show you just how much you mean to me."
a/n: shiver me timbers omg i can’t believe i wrote this omg 😏
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