[cuntgirl-lola-deactivated202511]

Being raped and cumming over and over again on your rapist's cock. You're crying and screaming and fighting, but your little rape-hungry pussy keeps betraying you and making your eyes roll back while your pussy spasms on your rapist's cock for the fourth time, trying to milk his cock and take all of his seed deep inside of you, happily making a rapebaby in your womb

[sherraphim]

of course your girlfriend didn’t mind you going to your classmate’s flat to work on a lab report. she didn’t bat an eye, thinking nothing of it. he was a man, and you were a lesbian, so what was there to think of it?

you didn’t think much of it yourself as you got yourself ready, asking to borrow your girlfriend’s skirt cause it’s damn hot out and you need something breezy. didn’t think much of it as you stepped past the threshold of his flat and set out your papers to work. didn’t think much of it as he leaned over to your laptop to read the paragraph you’d added, and the sound of his soft breathing by your ear sent goosebumps up your skin.

you only began to wonder if, maybe, this may have been a bad idea, after all the papers had been put away and the project was finished far ahead of schedule, and he leaned back in his seat to eye you up and down. “damn, i lucked out with you. you’re pretty smart.”

because why should it matter what a random guy thinks? why should his praise send a wave of arousal through your system that made your face run hot? of course you’re smart. you’re here at the same college as him, aren’t you?

but you didn’t snap back at him. nor did you tell him that you ought to get home to your girlfriend when he offered you a glass of wine. you tell yourself it doesn’t matter, just a friendly chat with a classmate after a study session. even as the whole time you sat there with the same fluttering feeling in your tummy as you did on your first date with your lover.

soon enough, with two glasses of wine in your system and his disarming laugh ringing pleasantly in your ears, you stopped thinking about it. stopped thinking of your girlfriend altogether. you were too focused on the way his gaze raked over your body with an intensity that you could feel tickling your skin. the way his lips curled in a smile that suggested much more than polite interest in your words. did he scoot his chair nearer at some point? when did his face get so close to yours?

“pretty thing like you must have a boyfriend, don’t you?”

you should say you have a girlfriend. or that you’re a lesbian, and you aren’t into men like that. but with his voice so low and his face so close, the woman you loved was the farthest thing from your mind. all that left your mouth was a simple, “no.”

“good.”

you’re… fairly sure he was the one who kissed you first. maybe that makes it marginally better. you try not to think about the fact that you're the one who snakes your hand around his neck and deepens the kiss. that you’re the one who slides off your chair and onto his lap.

your skirt—or rather, your girlfriend’s skirt—pools around you as you straddle him on the chair, and his hands wrap around you, sneak beneath the fabric, and grab firmly at your ass. the feel of it makes you gasp and buck your hips, and suddenly you’re grinding yourself onto him and you couldn’t stop if you tried. later, you'll tell yourself you did try, that his hands kept moving your hips and encouraging the movement and you could do nothing to stop him.

it’s not long before you end up on the same dining table you did your report, your laptops shoved to the corners and papers strewn across the floor. your panties end up somewhere in the mess of papers, tossed aside and forgotten. your shirt hangs limply off the side of a chair, and your skirt is bunched up around your middle, your soaking cunt all in display.

you’re almost surprised with how easily he’s able to bottom out inside you. you can’t remember the last time you got this wet without a ton of foreplay in advance. but here he is, sinking every single inch into you without any resistance.

he fucks you deep, and you can feel his heavy balls against your ass with each thrust. it’s an unfamiliar sensation that you can’t help fixating on. just as you fixate on the sound of his low groans, the feel of his large hands gripping your tits, and the heat of him as he stretches you.

you’re thankful he had the foresight to pull out, because you’d completely forgotten about any sort of protection. you weren’t used to thinking about it. aren’t used to thinking about thick loads of cum or the fertile womb inside you. you feel defenseless in a way you never have before. you hoped desperately that pulling out was good enough, and frantically dug through your memory to old sex-ed classes—the parts you purged as they didn’t apply to your life. they were probably exaggerating its ineffectiveness, right?

he didn’t seem quite so worried about it as his fingers work your clit, rubbing circles that mingled his cum with your wetness, and his eyes roam your body like he was admiring a work of art. “anyone ever tell you how gorgeous you look covered in cum?”

your face might as well be on fire from how flushed you feel. suddenly you’re aware of just how much there is. on your pussy, your tummy, your tits. your skin burns under each streak. you shouldn’t be covered in cum. but he doesn’t miss the way your hips buck and you whimper at the words.

“oh,” he said with a smirk. “you like that?”

no, no, no, i don’t, you tell yourself. you shut your eyes tightly and cover your face with your arms.

then those perfect circles he was rubbing into your clit stop abruptly, and you tense.

“oh, no,” he tells you as he grabs each of your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand. “you’re not cumming unless you look right into my eyes and show me how much you’re loving this.”

does he have any clue how much he’s tormenting you right now? you stare back at him with wide, nervous eyes of your own. “you’re gonna fucking ruin me.”

he only chuckles as he brings his free hand back to your aching pussy.

you don’t want to cum on a man’s fingers, looking into his eyes, listening to his sweet words. but you give your wrists a weak wriggle and feel him tighten his grip in response.

maybe… if you don’t have a choice. if he won’t let you go until you do.

despite how desperately you cling to that little lie, you don't struggle again. you only buck your hips up, inviting him to press harder against your swollen clit.

you writhe and moan in the pleasure of his hands on you, and as the praises fall from his lips, the pleasure magnifies. “that's my good girl. so fuckin' pretty. keep making those noises for me and i might just have to fuck this perfect pussy for another round.”

the promise of it sends you over the edge, and you make no effort to muffle yourself. all the pleasure you're too ashamed of acknowledging spills out from lips, unwanted and yet uninhibited. it goes on and on, drawing all your muscles into tight knots and shaking you with the force of it.

he talks you through the seemingly endless orgasm, though you can barely hear the words over your own screams of pleasure. but you can see the look on his face—his pupils blown wide, hungrily taking in every detail before him—and you can surmise it’s more of those delicious praises.

the hand that had been holding you in a tight vice slides down to sweetly cradle your cheek, grounding you in this moment of freefall.

your hands, now free, move of their own accord, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him down to you. you’re not even in control of your body enough to kiss him properly, but you need him close. you need him. he gets the message clearly enough, and peppers kisses along your cheek and forehead and neck and every part of you he can reach.

and there you stay as the wave finally passes, and all your muscles unclench. as they do, you feel every ounce of energy leave your body, leaving you completely limp. your mind feels just as spent as your body, and all you can do is turn your head to catch his lips with yours.

you don’t know how long you stay there, in that happy afterglow, exchanging languid kisses. distantly you register that this position on the hard wooden table is rather uncomfortable to the point of being mildly painful, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care when you feel as if you’re floating on a cloud.

when he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, he runs a hand through your hair and smiles down at you. “damn, you must have really needed that, huh?”

you give a weak nod, still feeling too dazed and woozy to speak properly. the ditzy smile on your lips is more than enough for him.

he sneaks his hands beneath you and pulls you to a sitting position just at the edge of the table, with him standing between your open legs. his hips press forward, and you can feel that his cock is hard all over again. with a playful lilt in his voice, he asks, “you don’t have anywhere to be tonight, right?”

and just like that, the realization of what you did struck, popping the happy little bubble around you. you do have somewhere to be. you have someone to be with.

his eyebrows knit together in worry as he sees the sudden change in your demeanor. “hey, are you al—?”

but you’re pushing him away, scrambling to get back into your clothes and grab your things. “this was— i didn’t— i have to leave.” what time is it? how long were you here and not with your girlfriend? you shove your laptop into your bag forcefully and cover your exposed self with your shirt, not even registering that you wore it inside out, or that his cum was still drying on your skin only to be soaked up by the cotton fabric.

you ignore his calls after you as you dart to the door and walk back through the dark evening to your own place.

it’s not a long walk in the slightest, but with the shame weighing on you like an anchor, and the feeling of his sticky dried cum burning on your skin, it feels like an eternity. a cool breeze blows, and you feel it on your wet and exposed skin, and you realize with a start that in your panicked rush you’d forgotten to put your panties back on. were they still on his floor? you pull your skirt down a little and hold your arms by your side lest the wind expose your shame even more.

it’s late enough that your girlfriend is already in bed when you arrive, and you breathe a sigh of relief as you sneak past her to the bathroom. you peel off the sweaty, grimey clothes into the hamper and take the hottest shower you can, hoping to scald the disgust off your skin. you scrub yourself raw and wash your hair twice more than usual, hoping desperately that the smell of him won’t linger on you.

when you finally crawl into bed, your girlfriend stirs awake. she gives you a sleepy greeting, pulling you into her arms and pressing a kiss to your shoulder before sinking right back into sleep.

the next morning, you woke to a half dozen texts from the very same classmate that has made such a wreck of you. worried check-ins and panicked apologies and questions of whether he’d misread your interest and taken things too far. your heart constricted at his care. you knew, deep down, he wasn’t the one who’d done anything wrong. and despite that, you couldn’t bear to respond, and instead left his messages read and unanswered.

as you made your way to the living room, you found your girlfriend nursing a mug of coffee and absent-mindedly watching reruns of an old comfort show. she perked up at the sight of you and made room for you on the couch to snuggle up beside her. you forced a smile and made your way to her, laying your head against her in a way that would normally be comfortable, if not for the pit in your stomach.

she droned on about her plans for the day and other random thoughts running through her head. too preoccupied with your own worries, and too groggy to think straight anyway, you didn’t pay too much attention as she simply thought aloud.

until, that is, a single word snapped you to attention. skirt.

“what was that?” you repeated sluggishly, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

“oh, just that i tossed in a load of laundry and noticed a weird stain on my black skirt. was that always there, or was it from when you borrowed it?”

your heart hammering in your chest, you scrambled for the first lie that came to mind. “oh, my lab partner ordered gyros for us when our study session ran late. must have been some garlic sauce i spilled or something.”

she seemed to buy it, rambling on about dinner plans and laundry and an event later tonight she wanted to wear the skirt to. you nod along, halfheartedly listening to her, but your thoughts were elsewhere. namely, about how you really stained her skirt. and how the memory of it alone made your cunt ache with a need that wasn’t even close to being sated after one reckless night. and how the thrill and the shame of lying about it only made the need stronger.

the moment the washing machine beeped and left the couch to del with it, you opened the chat on your phone. without a second thought, you replied to the messages from last night.

hey. i’m sorry i ran out like that. you didn’t misread things at all. i just freaked out a bit, it was totally a me thing.

you look over to your girlfriend, across the floor of your shared apartment, turning the laundry over to the dryer. she catches you staring and blows you a little kiss. you return it with a kiss of your own. then you turn back to your phone and add,

i'm free tonight. can i see you again?

[sherraphim]

[dykebreaking. incest. 2.2k words.]

your girlfriend really really should have warned you about what her father was like before you met him for the first time. here you are, dressed in the nicest button-down you own, your hair neatly styled, and you even brought a nice wine that you spent way too much damn money on to impress him. and here he is, eyeing you up and down like you aren't dating his fucking daughter.

for a while, you assume it's in your head. men always gave you a terrible impression, and maybe you're simply jumping the gun and assuming the worst. your girlfriend spoke so highly of her father for as long as you've dated. she must have her reasons for it.

until, that is, you're all seated at the dinner table, and the topic of sports comes up, and you mention that you're on the basketball team at your college. "been playing all my life," you say, proudly.

he smiles and coos at you. "aw, that's cute."

"well, in women's basketball," he returns. "really only one good reason people wanna watch that." he takes a long, slow sip of his wine, but his eyes watch you over the rim, never losing that condescending glint.

you blink, almost unsure if you misheard him. cute? "we're nationally ranked," is all you can say.

you turn your gaze to your girlfriend, silently pleading for her to back you up and push against the implications of his words. but to your shock, she's smiling and giggling. she reaches across the table and takes your hand. "it's definitely the first thing that caught my eye about her. you should see her when she's playing!"

"maybe i will," he muses. "i'd definitely love to see more of her." something in the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

the moment you enter your girlfriend's bedroom, you slam the door and groan in frustration. "what the fuck is his problem?"

your girlfriend chuckles as she stretches out on her bed, her eyes watching you pace back and forth to work off some of the anger pooling in your stomach. "he's just like that. you'll warm up to him, trust me."

you huff out an incredulous laugh. "yeah, i highly doubt that. how in the hell did that pig raise you of all people?"

she hums in contemplation. "my empath senses tell me you need to vent."

you want to roll your eyes at her, but you're not turning down a chance to complain about those torturous two hours you had to spend withstanding one sexist remark after another.

she pats the spot on the bed beside her, and although you'd prefer to pace until the buzzing under your skin ceases, you absentmindedly sit down as the words tumble from your mouth.

"cute. he really had the audacity to call my entire athletic career cute."

your girlfriend hums in acknowledgment as she listens, though she says nothing more as she squeezes your tense shoulders, willing them to relax. she watches your face closely as her hands sneak down to unbutton your shirt.

"what an asshole. do you guys have a basketball hoop in your yard or something? i'd really love to kick his ass and wipe that stupid condescending look off his face." you don't always get a chance to play against men, and you can't help the distant voice in your head wonder how much his height would be an advantage. when he greeted you at the door, it wasn't lost on you how big he is, and you practically had to crane your neck to look him in the eye.

she doesn't answer the question as she slides the shirt off your shoulders and tosses it aside. regardless, the question was so far from your mind as you pictured his face, those eyes peering at you in a way that left you wanting to cover yourself even in your modest clothing.

you barely notice the way she pushes you onto your back as you keep speaking. "maybe he should come to one of my games next season. spite is a great motivator, and it'd really have me on my A game." or it'd fluster you to the point of being entirely inept. something about him made you feel so jittery and restless. you can't quite tell if it's your body's instinct to fight him or what.

"and what was with the mansplaining? all evening! god, i never should've mentioned my major. i was hoping it'd earn me some basic respect when he realizes i'm in his field, but he just kept treating me like an amateur!"

distantly, you register the sound of your belt being unbuckled, and the way your hips are pushed just enough to slide your pants off. and maybe you should be paying a bit more attention to your girl right now—when did she take off her clothes?—but that burning anger that's been building in the pit of your stomach all evening has yet to be extinguished, and she's nodding at you to continue. you don't even know if you can stop venting if you tried right now.

and you want to growl from the anger, but suddenly a moan slips from your lips as you feel two fingers press deep into your cunt and curl just at the spot that makes you melt.

"how many times does he have to hear, 'yeah, i know,' before he gets the damn message? he was talking to me like i'm a child, for fuck's sake." even as you were trying to tell him about a very competitive internship you'd earned the previous summer, he talked down to you like a teacher praising a child for learning to write. your teeth grit and your face burns as you replay his tone as he called you a "smart little girl."

"fuck, baby, you're so wet," your girlfriend sighs as she pumps her fingers into you.

"i'm what?" you hardly noticed. but now you can feel how easily her fingers slide into you, and suddenly you're painfully aware that the fiery sensation you'd been feeling all evening started between your legs where her hands worked deftly.

"drenched, darling," she repeats, and chuckles as she presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

of all the times you've done this, you've never felt so... exposed. there's some private, hidden part of you laid bare that neither she nor you yourself have seen before. you try to close your legs, embarrassed by the revelation, but all you can manage to do is squirm. has it always felt so good to be touched like this?

"well, don't stop now," she tells you. "keep talking. tell me how degraded he made you feel."

"is... wait, wait, oh fuck—" you grab her wrist to still her hand but you can't seem to find the strength to push her off. "is this weird? i mean, shit, he's your dad."

she brings herself closer now, and you can feel her hot breath on your pussy as she speaks. "and just look what he does to you."

how much of the heat you feel is anger and how much of it is lust? you're losing track, unable to separate them out. but with every little humiliation you recall and every swipe of her tongue over your clit, the two emotions feed into each other. your whole body is alight with it.

you purse your lips tightly as the humiliation of the moment washes over you. you don't want to keep talking about him, to keep exposing how deeply he's somehow wormed his way into your head. but he did, and all your efforts to focus on the gorgeous woman between your legs fall flat. all you can see in your minds eye is him. him and those hungry eyes that raked over your body all night. him and those lips that curled into a smirk every time you took his bait.

"he was getting off on it." you couldn't help voicing the realization aloud, nor could you help the way your hips bucked up to chase the friction of your girl's tongue. "he wanted to get under my skin. to see me squirm, to piss me off, to degrade me."

as the realization hit you, you feel her lips curl into a smile against your skin. did she know all along?

"so fucking demeaning," you say. between your breathy moans and gasps, it sounds unconvincing to your own ears. "i came here trying to impress him and he looked at all my accomplishments and just, aah, jerked off all over them!"

with the awareness came a whole new scene in your minds eye. not just of his eyes and lips, but parts of him you wanted so desperately to ignore. was he hard under the table as he mocked you? would he stroke his cock to the memory of how flustered he got you, how desperately you tried to fight back against his condescension only to be pushed back down with more?

it makes you sick to your stomach, and twisted up in that disgust is a lust that you can't contain. it's spilling out of you, making a wet mess of the sheets, as inconsiderate of your willingness as he was. you feel as violated by your own body's reactions as you did by his leering gaze, by this new awareness that you're nothing but a sex toy to him.

for a moment, your lover's tongue leaves your aching clit just long enough for her to ask, "could you imagine what he'd do if he saw you like this?"

you shake your head viciously. "no, no, god, fuck no—" but you can, so vividly. you can see his smirk and hungry eyes. how he'd make his way to the other side of the bed, over your head, and shuck off his pants. you can see the way his hard cock would fill your whole field of view, feel the weight of it as he slaps it down onto your face, hear the mocking laugh as he watches you in such a helpless state. but what you can't imagine, what you've never found yourself thinking of until now, is the taste.

burning with shame, you swallow the saliva that's flooding your mouth.

you shouldn't be so close already. but somewhere hidden under the anger and hate you've been stewing in all night, this unwanted arousal was building and building, feeding off your own humiliation. you've never been so sensitive.

between long, languid licks, your girl asks, "mmm, you're getting close, aren't you, dear?"

you hate how familiar she is with your body that she just knows. you hate that it's getting to you so much. "no, no," you insist, and your voice comes out in the most embarrassing whine you've ever heard.

she coos at you, like you're a sad, pathetic little animal. "it's okay," she says, and she sounds so earnest, so understanding. "you can say what you really want. it'll be our secret."

she gives another slow, firm swipe of her tongue over your clit. you've never fought so desperately against your own pleasure.

don't cum, don't cum, you think to yourself.

"it's okay to want him."

another lick. your legs shake around her head.

"it's okay to cum for him."

and it's not, it's really really not. but that doesn't matter to your body. despite all your frantic efforts, you can't stop it. the orgasm rips through you and leaves you screaming and moaning in its intensity. you try to shut your legs, try to scramble away from her tongue as she laps at your sensitive clit, as if interrupting the orgasm will somehow absolve you of the shame of it.

but she holds you firmly and forces it out of you. and with it, the truth you've been desperately shoving down comes spilling out of your lips.

"i want him to make me his dyke slut!"

you wish you could grab the words and shove them back into the darkest part of your psyche where they'll never be heard. but you can no more do that than you can undo the mind-numbing, leg-shaking, screaming orgasm.

you don't know how long it goes on, but by the end, you're panting and your heart is racing as if you had just finished an intense work out. your face is on fire, and you stare up at the ceiling in horror even as the warm, happy afterglow washes over you. your mind is too scrambled to even try untangling the mess of emotions in your chest.

your girlfriend is kissing up your body, and you shiver in response. she settles beside you, her head nestled under your chin as she sighs pleasantly. "i meant it when i said that it'll be our secret. i won't tell," she promises. "i just hope the walls are thick enough that he didn't hear that."

[lezhuntrr]

current fantasy is a lesbian who needs some easy money and happens finding an up and coming woman owned, lgbt porn studio and applying for a part time gig right away, just to show up for her second interview and orientation to find out just about all her coworkers to be, all the stars, the staff, almost everyone is trans. it’s not like she has a problem with it, she’s not that kind of dyke, it’s just… surprising! there’s a part of her that feels like making whatever excuses she needs and turning tail, but she prides herself on being open minded, so she just swallows her pride, presses her thighs together, and smiles as she listens to her new manager explain her role here.

…and just like that little pit of fear in her stomach was telling her, they’re just hiring her for her cunt. literally; her, along with the other two cuntgirls on staff, will be working as fluffers and lube dispensers to feed their tops libidos and keep them raring to go for their busy scenes. if a girl starts getting distracted, bored, or anything else soft part way through, it’s on them to slip between the other entertainers when the cameras are off and gently, sweetly thicken them back up. “intercrucal and other outercourse is the standard,” her manager says, “… though whatever works, works. oral is common, hand stuff, a little light play, whatever. but in the interest of being totally clear, it’s the novelty of your cunt that’s gonna be doing the most work for you. our girls are very happily familiar with each other, but cis dyke pussy is the one thing they can’t give each other, so we rely on girls like you to spice things up for them. other than that, our tops have their own tastes, so do your best to pick up on those preferences over time, save yourself some effort.” shes shocked enough that she can’t even think of what to say or how to politely refuse, so she just sits there for a moment with her new boss smiling down at her before a little bundle of forms are pushed into her arms and she’s sent further in to shadow a coworker before she can change her mind.

…and things go simply, and well, if not embarrassingly. they’re shooting a gangbang today, so when they cut and take breaks while getting ready to block new shots, it’s between the new cuntgirl and her coworker to nurse and work their cocks. she’s hardly willing to do much at first, but watching the vet here kneeling beside her, easing someone deeper into her mouth while slapping another girls dick against her face helps make the decision easier. she reluctantly reaches out to feel at the other stars dicks as they joke with each other and break the ice asking about her, her hands slowly easing into awkward, inexperienced handjobs. she mumbles out brief introductions and tries not to blush harder when she feels them pulsing and firming up in her fingers, and spends the next two minutes jerking them off and answering questions about herself that get more and more invasive until they’re rock hard. she was able to get up and out of the shot again, for now; but they’d do this two more times before they were done for today. finally heading home, she’s still scandalized and unable to get comfortable in her seat; mentally, she was prepared to do a scene or two after getting introduced to a co star, so it wasn’t that much of a shock. but just getting used like that, feeling their desire to do more to do hot against her skin, the way their eyes rolled over her, appraising her like meat… something about it got under her skin and went somewhere. even so… the pay was good, she’s doing even less work than she thought she would, doesnt have to worry about videos of her online, and everyone was friendly, warm enough. so she decides to stick with it for now.

and while her girlfriend isn’t thrilled about it, she keeps coming back and picking up hours where she can over the next few weeks. she opens up bit by bit and gets to know everyone else, learn names, settle into her place in the social system. which makes it easier to cede ground and do more when the stars start getting needier. it’s letting a girl fuck your mouth once when she really needed to get back on set, and then getting talked into blowing all the other stars one by one so they don’t feel left out. she’s not surprised when they start getting handsy; soon she’s getting bent over and having her thighs fucked daily. most of the girls love to keep it close and intimate, so any clothes she keeps on get sweaty and full of dick smell. she brings a fresh set to change into afterwards, but the sweat sticks to her anyway, and her girlfriend can only imagine what shes up to when out of sight. their tension settles into an uneasy silence and she makes a habit of heading right for the shower after work. they stop having sex with their strap on, too; she doesn’t fully realize it, but it just doesn’t feel as comfortable without another’s heat anymore. she chalks it up to circumstances each time, but she just can’t get wet the same way for the toy anymore.

it’s her third month there when she caves and lets one of them fuck her. it happens casually, carelessly, not even on set, just taken by the moment with one of the studs she got to know first there. complaining about poor scripts one minute, then get groped into the couch the other. she’d practice her technique with the other cuntgirls or a star not on scene sometimes, but she knew this wasn’t that, and she kissed back anyway. she wanted this, needed somewhere for all that built up sexual frustration to go. getting left half used again and again built up into hunger that she was getting tired of ignoring. when she felt how hard she was, it was her who spread her legs, no guidance needed. when they were panting into each others mouths, skin on skin, wet against each other, it was her who begged to feel it inside. before she knew it she was blissed out in her besties arms, letting the fight get fucked out of her as she shivers and gets dumber with every inch that gets lovingly worked into her cunt. her heart raced and she knew she should stop, but all she could think of doing was wrapping her legs around her mates hips and bearing this a little longer. so close and so dumb. she can’t handle it, having a girl who’s always been chill, collected and professional enough with her completely lose it in her cunt. she cums first, and then a second time quick afterwards as her studs getting greedier and hungrier with her thrusts, holding her fast and grunting into her mouth. using her cunt to stroke herself up to finish. and then she’s hot inside and out and spilling down her thighs before she can think responsibly again. she’s respectful and sweet when cleaning up and at work next, but sooner or later the other girls start to get word, and then she’s spreading her legs and offering up her cunt on the reg. she puts up a bit of resistance, gives herself some time, but soon enough she relents and just starts getting passed around almost every time she’s at work. she doesn’t regret it, with how much it taught her about what she really wants, but she still doesn’t know how she’s gonna explain the positive pregnancy test to her girl. maybe she’s better off going single and focusing on work for a while…

[jackofallages]

Imagine he’s got you in the meanest mating press, his thick cock spearing you open against the bed and it’s so good you’re seeing stars. But suddenly he stops and just leaves his cock inside of you, splitting you open, not thrusting and not moving, just buried deep inside, holding you nice and open for him. And he decides to focus on your clit, maybe with a vibrator or maybe with his fingers, just rubbing and playing with your swollen clit. It’s making you whine and buck your hips against his weight but he’s so much bigger and so much stronger there’s no way to stop him. He tells you to be a good girl and take it because he just wants to feel your pretty pussy pulse around his cock, he wants to feel your walls fluttering around him, your cunt milking his cock so perfectly in response to the overwhelming stimulation on your clit. And he’s so mean about it, one hand working your clit and the other braced against the bed so he can lean into you and keep you pinned down. He’s pushing you closer and closer to a mindbreaking orgasm as he whispers in your ear. “Such a good girl for me, come on, milk my cock with that pretty pussy, that’s it, feel good for me, I want to feel that cunt clenching around me, there you go.” And finally, your body breaks into a toe-curling orgasm, trembling, writhing, crying for him and the unrelenting pleasure he’s forcing out of you. You look at him through teary eyes, expecting him to go back to fucking you but all you see is the sadistic gleam in his eyes that tells you this is far from over. “Come on baby,” his voice is so mean as his fingers don’t stop working your clit, “One isn’t enough, give me more, let me feel that pretty pussy pulse around me again, that’s it, keep making those needy sounds for me, you can take it, I want your pussy to cum over and over again to milk all the cum out of my cock. We’re not stopping until I’m satisfied.” You’re sobbing now, trying to push him off, trying to make him stop the assault of pleasure. Begging, crying, gasping out pleas that he’s ignoring because he wants to use you to feel good, he wants to use you like a fuck doll, meant for nothing more than to milk his cock like a toy with no regard for how you feel. His fingers pull another orgasm from your body, the feeling lighting your every nerve and forcing your pussy to milk him just the way he likes. But it’s not enough for him, it won’t ever be enough for him, and so he keeps going. He pulls one orgasm after another out from your helpless body just so he can use you to make himself feel good. It has nothing to do with your pleasure because he’s exceeded that several times over now but it has everything to do with using you like a sex toy to get himself off. You have no idea how many times he’s forced your body to cum for him when he finally groans above you as his hips jerk into you, pumping his cum deep inside of your still-spasming walls. And maybe he’ll leave his cock inside of you even after, keeping you plugged up and nice and full with his cum while you fall asleep in his arms, with his gentle kisses on your forehead and soft strokes of your hair.

[corwin77]

You're supposed to be in your room studying, but the rhythmic sound from across the hall makes you peek through your slightly open door. The sight makes you freeze. Your sister is on her knees on her bed, your Dad thrusting into her from behind. His hands grip her hips, and her muffled cries are pure ecstasy. A hot flush spreads across your skin as you watch his powerful movements. Without even thinking, your own hand slips into your pajama shorts. You're already embarrassingly wet. You imagine it's you bent over that bed, feeling his strength, taking every deep thrust. Your fingers circle your clit, matching the rhythm you see, your breath catching as you picture him turning those hungry eyes on you.

The sight of them becomes an obsession. You find excuses to linger near her room, your heart pounding, hoping to catch another glimpse. In the following days, your own bed becomes a sanctuary for your secret. You lie back at night, your fingers working frantically between your legs, replaying the image of his muscles straining, the sound of his grunts, the look of raw pleasure on your sister's face. You imagine it's you making those noises, you taking all of him. You become bolder, leaving your door open just a crack whenever you hear them start. You watch him pin her against the wall, his hand over her mouth as he drives into her. You see her ride him on the couch, her head thrown back. Each time, you're hiding in the shadows, touching yourself, getting off on their secret affair. The risk of getting caught only makes you wetter, your fantasies about him completely taking over your thoughts.

Until finally, he notices you watching. You panic and shut your door, but it's too late. Your heart hammers in your chest as the door creaks open. You scramble back on your bed, pulling the covers up as if they could hide you. He steps inside, a knowing smile on his face. Your sister follows, looking more amused than angry. He sits on the edge of the bed, his voice soft. It's okay, he says. There's enough of me for both of you. You don't have to just watch. He gently pushes your legs apart, and you're too stunned to resist. You're completely exposed to him. He lowers his head between your thighs, and his tongue touches your clit, making you jolt. The sensation is electric. At the same time, your sister kneels beside you, her hands cupping your breasts, her thumbs circling your nipples. The dual sensations overwhelm you. After making you writhe with his tongue, he moves up your body. He guides himself into you, and you gasp as he fills your pussy. He fucks you slowly, deeply, while your sister kisses your neck and whispers how good you feel. You come undone between them, all your secret fantasies becoming real.

He settles into a rhythm between the two of you, his cock slick and glistening as he moves from your body to hers. You lie side by side on the bed, your legs tangled together, both of you panting and watching him. He thrusts into you, filling you with a deep, possessive stretch that makes you moan. Then, with a smooth, wet slide, he pulls out and enters her right in front of your eyes. You can see everything. You watch her face contort in pleasure as he takes her, then feel the loss when he withdraws and pushes back into you. Your sister reaches for your hand, her fingers lacing with yours as you both share him. The feeling of his heat leaving your body only makes you ache for his return, and each time he enters you again it feels like a new claiming. You're both his, completely connected by his movements, lost in a shared, relentless pleasure.

[sluttylez-deactivated20250713]

as soon as i start thinking about an older man pinning me down, tearing off my clothes and whispering in my ear that he's about to show me what daddy's cock can do to my dyke cunt and whether i'll still be able to call myself a lesbian with a straight face after he's had his way with my body, it's as if between my legs is lit on fire and rubbing myself becomes compulsive and i can't make myself stop…

[devoutdaughter]

you weren't trying to be a pervert. it's just that you'd never heard noises like that from their room before. and it's not like you were trying to listen or anything, the noise is just a reality of sharing a wall. you don't notice most of it, the sounds become a familiar rhythm in the background. but this was different, which is what made it cut through the filtered out background buzz. and now you're standing frozen in the doorway that you silently cracked open, watching your big sib pump their fingers in and out of someone you've never seen before. her face is twisted up almost like she's in pain and she's whimpering quietly under the hand they have clamped over her mouth. their eyes keep flitting back and forth from her face, to their fingers between her legs, and back again. they're smiling and cooing at her, "hear how fucking wet you are baby? even when you stay quiet your body can't." something about the quality of their voice and the wet sounds of their fingers fucking into her makes your stomach flip. your knees buckle a little and you lower yourself to the ground to sit with your feet tucked under you, still watching, still listening.

they keep talking and it's making your head spin, telling her how pretty she looks spread out for them like this, how good she's being, how tight she's squeezing their fingers. you're shifting back and forth where you sit, your heel putting pressure between your legs in a spot that feels hot and insistent. they start murmuring more as the girl starts squirming, whining like a dog, her eyes now wide open and looking intently at them. "aw are you close baby? if I let you speak are you going to be good?" she nods quickly and they remove the hand from her face. "please.. please can I please it's too much please-" her desperate ramble gets cut off sharply, "please what? I want a full sentence kiddo." oh. that word made you gasp a little. that was how they always referred to you. your head was all fuzzy but there was something in there that felt.. possessive. that was yours. who was this person?

you came back to earth and heard her again, low and growly, "please can I cum on your fingers daddy?" your heart jumped into your throat and you wanted to cry out. the movement of your hips got more erratic, was this how the girl was feeling? this warm kind of urgency? is that why she was saying all this stuff? you had the feeling that if they were hovering over and prompting you that way, that you'd say anything to keep this feeling in your tummy growing bigger. it felt like your insides were expanding and going to burst, but it was a pleasant kind of ache. new and strange, like the time you accidentally drank alcohol on new years thinking it was apple cider and it made your head felt too big and floaty. they had been with you that night. taken you up to bed, helped you out of your party clothes and into a nightgown. promised not to tell your parents. their hands were so warm on your skin. would they feel that warm inside you too?

the girl started stammering now, but they seemed to only get more steady the less she was. they kept moving their hand at the same pace and shushing her softly, in a manner not unlike how they would you soothe you back to sleep after a nightmare. "please.. please daddy. I can't hold it." she croaked out. they smiled softly and said, "yes baby, you can cum. cum on your dad's fingers now kiddo." the girl started crying and whining before they finished talking. the words tipped something over inside you too, it almost felt like you were going to pee yourself. terrified that the feeling was going to make you cry, you put your thumb in your mouth and screwed your eyes up hard, rubbing against your heel and praying you don't make a mess. the last thing they said echoing in your head, "cum on your dad's fingers now kiddo." is that was this is, cumming? there were too many feelings to pull apart inside. imaging them saying it to you, the good feeling in your stomach and between your legs, the confusion, the anger at whoever this girl was that they were calling kiddo instead of you.

you opened your eyes slightly as the feeling subsided. you felt shaky like after you'd thrown up. lighter, but sort of dizzy. and then your heart stopped. they were looking right at you. sitting on your heel, soaking through your little tights, thumb still stuck in your mouth, pink faced and peering through the crack in the door from the hall carpet. the girl's head was turned away and she was still crying softly, she probably hadn't noticed. but they did. and they were smiling at you.

[daddys-favourite-secret]

Squirt

“How much longer til we make it back to the cabin?” you sigh.

He glances down at his smart watch, the small face bright in the gloom. “GPS says about another quarter mile.”

Groaning, you tip your head back, raindrops smattering across your face and down your neck. “Whose bright idea was it to go on a hike today?”

He grins, "Believe it was you this time, squirt.”

Trudging forward, you shake your head, “Ew, you know I hate that nickname.”

“Come on,” your dad needles you, laughing at your sour face. “It’s cute.”

“Uh huh,” you roll your eyes, then gesture to the trail in front of you. “Following your lead here, Dad”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand at you and steps out in front. “Make your old man slug it out first. I get it.”

Rolling your eyes again, you give his broad shoulders a light push, meaning it solely as a joke—something you’ve done a thousand times before—however, because of the sudden deluge of water, the trail is nothing but a slippery, muddy mess, and he loses his balance. 

He begins to fall backwards, and you try to catch him, but it’s a moot point; he just has too much weight on you. Both of you crash down onto the ground, He sprawled on top of you, leaving you both coated in mud. Wincing, you try to raise up at the same time He turns on his side, and you end up pinned underneath his body. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you valiantly stifle the whine in your throat. It’s unfair to have your hot dad pressing you into the ground, pelvis to pelvis, while mud and leaves are seeping into your clothes. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs a little deprecatingly as he finally hoists himself up, stretching a hand out toward you. “Guess we’ll need to clean up in the outdoor shower.”

Heart tripping over itself, you nod, “Sure.”

Turning his back to you, he curses under his breath, “Good thing it’s insulated, huh.”

Head dizzy at the thought of seeing your dad strip down in front of you, you can only cough out a strangled yep. Shooting a look over his shoulder, you smile tightly. 

“Must be a frog in my throat,” you joke weakly. 

It’s enough to make him grin and chuckle. 

“Well, Kermit, let’s get outta here.”

“Does that make you Miss Piggy?”

“Ha, ha, aren’t you funny?”

“Learned from the best.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, only broken up by the sound of rain and your trampling footsteps. Making it back to the cabin, you follow behind your dad as he walks to the lean-to built onto the side of the building. A shower stall’s setup alongside the house, protected from the elements by the sheltered roof. Glancing at it, it doesn’t seem like a lot, but it's fairly spacious inside with a little shower bench. 

“C’mon,” He nods his head at the stall, kicking his boots off and starting to unbutton his jeans. “We’ll both hop in in our undies and get clean in one go. Save time, so we can get started on dinner and warm up.”

You feel faint, blood surging hotly through your veins. “Um, s-sure. Quick and easy, right?”

He chuckles, “That’s the spirit, squirt.”

Arousal dampening a smidge from the silly nickname, it revs back up when he turns his back to you and bends over to take off his jeans and socks. Biting your lip, you press the dough of your thighs together, eyes drinking in his toned form. Once he’s down to his briefs, he steps into the shower stall, holding the door open as he cuts on the water. 

“Hurry it up, sweetheart, haven’t got all day,” he sing songs. 

In no time at all, you stand next to your dad wearing only a sports bra and boy shorts, brain overrun with thoughts of his half naked body. You bite back a gasp when his hand comes up to press between your shoulder blades, ushering you into the shower. He steps in behind you and shuts the door. 

It’s wide but not very deep due to the bench. As you both try to rinse off, you’re rubbing up against your dad in an almost obscene way. You really aren’t doing it on purpose, but he finally grabs you by the hips and stills your movement with a cut off groan. 

“Dad?”

“Sorry,” he mumbles behind you, fingers gripping you tightly as he lets out a breath. “I didn’t—it’s been a while and just—that’s no excuse, ‘m sorry.”

Your heart beats a staccato in your throat, and you rock yourself back, ass brushing against his stiff cock. 

“Oh, dad,” you whimper, and he inhales a sharp breath. “That’s so hot.”

He doesn’t stop you from pressing your ass fully against his chubbed cock, grinding back against him with a moan. His grip shifts, and he guides your hips into a rhythm that makes your toes curl, knowing your dad is getting off to this just as much as you are. 

“Daddy,” you whine, reaching one hand over your head to drape over his shoulder. “Touch me, please.”

His hands move from your hips to drag along your sides until he’s groping your breasts through your flimsy bra.

“Take it off,” he tells you, voice thick with lust. “Show daddy these tits of yours, baby.”

Slick floods the gusset of your panties while you eagerly strip your bra off, dropping it to the shower floor with a splat. His hands immediately grope and squeeze your breasts, fingers tweaking and tugging your hard nipples.

“Daaaad,” you moan, hips rocking back against his while he plays with your tits.

“Hang on,” he mutters, one hand disappearing, and you hear him shift behind you. Glancing down, you see him kick his underwear off to the side, making you whimper.

“There we go,” he sighs, slipping his cock between your thighs. “Mmm, so soft. And..”

He trails off, and you feel him guide his cock up to rub against the outline of your cunt. “So wet, baby. S’this all for me? What a dirty girl.”

He coos the last sentence in your ear, and you melt against him, keening low in your throat. “Daddy, please.”

He pulls back and turns you around to face him; your dilated eyes rake down his body, taking in his thick, dripping cock. He yanks your panties down, and you step out of them. 

“Pretty pussy,” he groans, fingers skating along your slit, smearing slick along your cunt and his fingers. 

“Dad,” you tilt your head. “Kiss me.”

“Baby,” he rumbles in your ear, and your hands grip onto his biceps, pulling him into a wet kiss. 

He slips his tongue past your parted lips, groaning as he licks into your mouth. You’re so turned on, it feels like your brain is melting from your ears. He ruts between your thighs, cock dragging precum all over your pussy lips, parting your slick folds to nudge against your clit. 

“Want it,” you pant, pulling away. “Want your cock.”

“Yeah?” He drops his hand down to grip the base of his dick, guiding the tip until he’s pressing against your hole. “Want daddy to stuff your pretty pussy?”

“Please, please, please,” you chant under your breath, eyes wide as they watch him tease the tip in and out of your fluttering cunt. “Dad, please, I wanna fuck you.”

“God,” he groans, sinking halfway into your snug pussy. “Take it then, sweetheart, since you want it so bad.”

“Yes, yes, oh, fuck,” you moan and whine, hands gripping his shoulders but making sure to keep your nails from scratching him up. No need to give your mum any suspicions. 

Once he’s buried completely in your wet heat, he grabs your thighs and picks you up. Without pulling out, he walks you both back so he can sit down on the bench. Your knees settle on the outside of his thighs, letting you sink down on his cock until the tip kisses your cervix. 

“So deep,” you slur, that pinch of pain making you clamp down on his dick. “Daddy, no one’s ever been this deep.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, hips snapping up, making you squeal as he knocks against the opening to your womb. “This sweet pussy’s never had a dick this big?”

Shaking your head rapidly, you sling water everywhere, “Nooo.”

“Goddamn,” he bites out, pulling you into a spit filled kiss. “Gonna dick down my little girl like she deserves.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, kissing him between all your little moans and pants. “Give it to me, daddy.”

“Gonna let daddy breed your little pussy, sweetheart? Hmm?” He teases against your lips, warm palm cupping your lower belly. “Put a baby right here if you let me cum in this soft pussy, cream you nice and deep.”

Shuddering, more slick leaks from your cunt, coating his cock, while your nails claw at his back, totally forgetting about not leaving any marks, “Dad, y-you can’t—we shouldn’t, it’s bad.”

“So bad,” he simpers, kissing your neck. “But doesn’t it feel good? C’mon you know you want it. Let daddy stuff your sweet cunt, baby.”

Nodding, you kiss him, sloppily making out underneath the shower spray. His fat tip drags against your g-spot on every thrust, fucking you better than your last boyfriend by far. It really shouldn’t be this good between father and daughter, but now that you know how sweet this forbidden fruit truly is, you never want to stop. 

He pulls away to mouth kisses across your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Drooling, you pant and gasp, knees digging into the tiled bench of the shower as He pounds into your clenching heat. 

“Fuck, pussy’s so much better than your mother’s,” he grunts, fingers digging into your hips. “Like this tight hole’s made for my cock.” 

“Daddy,” you whine, and he groans, biting down on the swell of your breast. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He slows his pace, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt in deep strokes until you’re writhing against him. 

“Want it fast,” you pout. “Please?”

“Don’t like being teased?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss on each of your nipples. “Let daddy play with you a little, sweetheart.”

Clit aching, you rock yourself against him. “But dad—“

“Shhh,” he nips at your stiff nipples, and you whine. “Just let me enjoy it. God, you’re so sexy.”

Pussy fluttering around his cock, you whimper, and he groans in satisfaction. “You like that? Yeah, best little pussy daddy’s ever had.”

He fucks you slow and deep, cock pumping in and out of your pussy while his mouth and tongue tease your nipples. 

“Just think, if you let daddy knock you up, these gorgeous tits will be full of milk.” He bites roughly at your nipple, a sharp pleasure that makes your pussy flutter. “Then daddy would have to help milk these fat tits every day.”

You hump down on his cock, thighs burning as you fuck yourself faster and harder against him. “Oh, god, dad, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Fuck,” he groans, moving a hand between your bodies to strum across your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Little clit’s so fat and slippery, baby.”

Keening, you thrash against him, arousal building higher and higher until it’s all white noise in your head. “‘M so close.”

“Cum for me, let daddy feel this little cunt squeeze his dick,” he coos. “Be a good girl and cream all over my cock.”

He pinches your clit a little harder, and it’s enough to snap that band wound tight in your lower belly. Your climax hits you hard, pussy squirting slick as your walls clench over and over while you shudder and writhe in his lap.

“Oh fuck,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Squirt’s more than just a nickname, huh?”

Thighs twitching, you slump against him, muscles too weak to keep you up. He wraps his thick arms around you and begins to pound up into your sopping wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum, oh fuck, gonna nut in your hot little pussy, oh, oh, yeah, take it, gonna knock my daughter’s fat pussy up, breed your sweet little cunt,” he babbles against your neck, cock throbbing in your fluttering walls. “Oh, fuuuck.”

He buries himself to the hilt, shooting rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside your puffy cunt, letting your snug pussy milk every drop. He doesn’t pull out when he leans back and takes your chin in hand. He tugs you into a soft kiss, the sweetest one that you’ve shared thus far. 

“Let’s go inside and continue this,” he nips your bottom lip. “We’ll worry about the consequences later. Daddy hasn’t had enough.”

He palms your belly, “Gotta make sure it sticks, too.”

A dull throb echoes through your cunt, “Okay, dad.”

[dadtheexception]

lesbian couple that have a deal where one of them desperately craves and needs cock, but her girlfriend doesn’t want her to be with any other men she doesn’t know or like so she only lets her fuck her own Dad. lesbian who is constantly bouncing between her girlfriend’s and her girlfriend’s Dad’s beds, quickly overwhelmed by the situation and loving both ends of the family. boundaries that keep getting broken until she’s going back to her girlfriend with his cum still leaking out of her cunt for his daughter to eat out of her, until her girlfriend is touching herself watching her own Dad fuck her girlfriend, until they’re all in bed together but Dad and daughter are trying to avoid touching each other, until both girls are sucking Dad’s cock together and all three are realizing it’s better this way, that these two lesbians were made to be fleshlights for her Dad’s cock.

[feverinducer]

Dad with a thick cock and his boy with a tight hole. Dad’s too big for his baby boy so he eases him into it very gently, making sure that he’s nice and stretched out from his fingers first. Dad helps him line up and slides in painfully slow so he doesn’t hurt his poor boy.

“Just like that, baby. Relax your hips.” He’d purr reassuringly, and when his boy finally adjusts to him, he’d start rolling his hips into the tight heat. He’s not sure if he can remind himself to be gentle anymore now that he’s inside his precious little boy. So he just starts pistoning his cock eagerly and swallows every squeal and moan from his son’s pretty lips, all while groaning into his mouth about how good of a boy he is for taking daddy like a champ.

[thesearentmykinksoranything]

𝓐𝓷𝓪 𝓒𝓱𝓾𝓾@ana_chuu

[breastcandy]

[anotherfixeddyke-2]

here you go ❤️

Dykebreaking, weed intox, mild dubcon (2.3k words)

You're not sure why you're doing this. You met him on a local kink forum about a week ago; you'd made a post on your profile saying you had never slept with a man and were a little curious. You'd recently gone through a messy breakup that made you want to swear off women and try something different for a change. You knew it was probably a bad idea, but you were stoned and horny, and hey, it was just a post, it's not like you were going to actually go through with it.

Predictably, most of the men who responded just sent you unsolicited dick pics or one-sentence requests for a hookup- no thanks. But not him. He was polite and articulate and asked you if you wanted to meet at his place for a smoke, just to see if you clicked, no pressure and no hard feelings if you decided you weren't interested in going further.

Against your better judgement, you agreed. So here you are, knocking on his door, wearing a skirt and button-up that are the complete opposite of the more masculine clothes you usually wear. After a few moments where you almost decide to just turn around and get back in your car, he opens the door.

Thankfully, he looks just like he did in his pictures. He invites you in and the two of you start casually talking. This isn't bad, you think. He at least doesn't seem like a secret serial killer or anything. He's got a decent job and hobbies and a house, and he's being very respectful of you. After a while, he asks you if you want to smoke and watch a movie. You say yes.

He starts up the movie while you get comfortable on his couch. He brings out a bong and a jar of weed; you can tell it's strong stuff just by looking at it. He packs the bowl and holds it out to you. "Ladies first," he says. You laugh and then lean down to take a long hit while he lights it up for you, and- yeah, wow, that's really strong. You struggle not to cough, which he notices and laughs at a little before taking his own hit.

For a while, you don't talk. You both just lounge and watch the movie next to each other, occasionally taking another hit. Before you realize it, you're more stoned than you've been in a long time. Everything is hazy, and you're suddenly hyper-aware of the man's presence. Shit, why did you put yourself in such a vulnerable position? You're stuck in a strange man's house until you're lucid enough to drive home, and at this rate that's going to be a while. He offers another hit. Fuck it, you're already here.

This time, it's different. He takes a hit first, then holds the smoke in his mouth. He sets the bong down on the table, leans closer to you, and tilts your chin up. Instinctively, you open your mouth to let him breathe the smoke into it. He looks amused when you gasp a little. When he's done, he lowers his hand onto your thigh and squeezes. You gasp again.

You should tell him to stop. You should tell him you're not interested and take an uber home. But you don't. You try to get the words out, but they won't come. You're too high to resist, and you can't deny that your body is reacting to his touch. He moves one hand around you to firmly squeeze your ass, while his other hand snakes under your top to palm at your tits. Without even meaning to, you lean into it.

Then, he grabs the remote and turns off the movie. He stands up and takes off his shirt, before leaning down and teasing the hem of your top. Your body seems to move on its own as you raise your arms to let him take it off. Part of you regrets not wearing a bra. Another part of you really doesn't.

He stands upright again. You're eye-level with the front of his jeans, and you can tell he's hard inside them. Only now do you realize how soaked your cunt is. You're not really going to do this... right?

You sit there for a few long, indecisive moments, looking back and forth between his face and the button of his jeans. Sensing your hesitation, he guides your hand to the button.

"Go on," he says.

You undo the button and pull down the zipper. His cock springs out from his boxers immediately. Shit, you assumed he'd exaggerated when he told you it was 7 1/2 inches. And it was thick, too, and already rock-hard, and only a couple of inches from your face.

"Now, be a good dyke." He reaches down to gently grab a fistful of your hair, and you have to bite back a whimper. "Open wide."

How the hell did you let it get this far? This was just supposed to be a casual hangout. You weren't planning on even kissing him, much less sucking his dick! But the sensible part of your brain that is telling you to call this whole thing off is barely audible now. The weed is making you feel everything ten times more acutely, and you can't ignore how wet you are. There's no use denying it. You want to obey him. You open wide.

"That's a good girl."

He holds your head in place and, achingly slowly, slides his cock into your mouth. You almost gag as it hits the back of your throat. Your eyes roll back and your brain goes totally blank. God, you're soaking through your panties. All you can focus on is how good it feels to be used. He holds it there for a few seconds before pulling out and sliding back in. Before long, your instinct kicks in and you begin sucking his cock without reservation. You've never even sucked a strap-on before, but somehow your body knows exactly what to do. He fucks your face faster and harder, filling the room with obscene glk-glk-glk sounds, grunting while you moan around him. Tears leak out of your eyes as he forces himself as far down your throat as he can. You grind your cunt against the couch. If he keeps going like this, you realize, you're probably going to cum. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: you're sucking a man's cock, and you love it.

Then he abruptly lets go of your hair and pulls his cock out of your mouth. You whine at the sudden absence. He laughs.

"As much as I'd love to shoot a load down that tight little throat, I'm not done with you."

He roughly grabs your arm and leads you down the hall to his bedroom, shutting the door behind you. He takes off the rest of his clothes.

"Strip," he orders. You obey without hesitation. As soon as you're naked, he grabs your hips and spins you around so that you're facing away from him. He pushes his cock between your thighs, grinding it against your dripping cunt while he gropes your tits.

"You're fucking desperate for it," he says. "You want me to fuck that dyke pussy, don't you." He says it like he already knows the answer. But that saner part of your brain speaks up again for just a moment: surely you're not going to go THAT far, right? Sucking his cock is one thing, but are you really going to lose your gold star tonight? To some stranger? But, then again...

"M-maybe just the tip. It doesn't count if you don't put it in all the way, right?"

"Alright then. If that's what you want." He shoves you forward onto the bed. "On your hands and knees."

You do as he says.

He settles on the bed behind you and presses the tip of his cock against your hole. You gasp. Reality hits you; a man's bare cock is touching your cunt, and you're going to let him put the tip inside you. And the scariest part is, you want it. He teases your cunt with his cock for a few more moments. This is your last chance to back out... you say nothing.

He rests one hand on your ass and gently guides the tip of his cock inside you.

Fuck, he's big. He's barely penetrated you and you can already feel your cunt stretching out further than it ever has from a woman's fingers. You whimper.

"I knew you'd like it," he chuckles. "You just tell me when you want more." He starts moving the tip in and out of you over and over, frustratingly slow, making you whine whenever he pushes in a tiny bit further. You can feel your cunt trying to pull him in deeper. "God, you're wet. it's such a shame you've been wasting this pussy on other women."

"Maybe just- just a little more," you concede. Before you even finish the sentence, half of his cock is inside you. A full-on moan escapes your lips. Fuck.

"Good girl. Good fucking slut." Just like he did to your mouth, he pulls all the way out and slowly slides in again, stopping when he's halfway inside your cunt. Then he does it again. And again. And again. You can't help but moan every time you feel yourself being stretched out. You hate how fucking good this feels. You can feel yourself losing control. Look at you. You're naked, on your hands and knees, with a man behind you. His unprotected cock is halfway inside your gold star lesbian cunt and it feels fucking amazing. You're wetter than you've ever been in your life.

"Faster," you breathe out, "p-please."

He immediately obliges. He grips your hips with both hands and starts driving his cock into you faster, then faster still. He still hasn't gone any deeper. You find yourself, against all sense, wishing he would. You've given up trying to stop yourself from moaning.

Then, he stops, pulling out of you entirely. "Come on, dyke. You know you want it. You're being such a good slut for me." He presses the tip against your cunt. "Let me make you mine."

He's right. You can't deny it anymore. You want to be his cocksleeve. You want to feel his cock pressed up against your womb. You want him to breed you. This is what your cunt was meant for. You can't believe you ever thought otherwise. Your gold star belongs to him. You should have known that from the moment you agreed to meet.

Your body falls forward, leaving you with your ass up to give him even better access. "Take it," you whimper. "It's yours."

He pushes you further forward onto the bed, exposing your bare cunt to him completely. "I knew you'd see it my way. Now, be a good girl...and take my fucking cock."

With one smooth thrust, he plunges his cock all the way inside you. You moan louder than you ever have in your life. Fuck, his dick is huge. You can feel him against your cervix. He just holds it there for a long moment, pushing in as deep as he can go. You're seeing stars. There's no doubt left in your mind; your cunt was made to take cock. This is your purpose.

This time, he doesn't bother to start slow. He fucks you hard, deep, and fast. You moan and whine like a fucking whore every time he hits your cervix. You're completely cockdrunk.

"Good. Take it, dyke. Your cunt belongs to me now. That's it, show me how bad you need it, slut."

"Yesyesyes fuck me, please fuck me, my cunt is yours. Oh, fuck, Daddyyyyy."

He chuckles. "That's my good little whore."

Part of you is mortified that you actually just called him that, but the rest of you doesn't care about anything other than the feeling of his thick cock breaking your lesbian cunt. He brings his hand down on your ass, hard enough that you're sure it'll leave a mark.

You're not sure which is louder: the sound of his hips hitting your ass or the sound of your moans. His heavy balls slap against your clit with every thrust. Fuck, you're going to cum. You've never cum just from penetration before, but you can feel yourself getting close.

Then, his thrusts get even harder and faster, and his grunts get more erratic. You realize with a jolt that he's close too. You're not on birth control. You know you should tell him not to cum in you, but your cunt is in control now, and you know what it really wants. Instead of telling him to stop, you push your ass back onto his cock even more fervently. With one final, deep thrust, he drains his balls inside you. He didn't even ask permission; he knew he didn't need to.

The feeling of his warm, thick cum spilling into your womb pushes you over the edge. You clench around his cock, cumming harder than you ever have with a woman. He holds it against your cervix until he's sure you've taken every drop. Then, finally, he pulls out.

Your body gives out immediately, and you flop over onto the bed, exhausted.

"Good girl," he coos, stroking your hair. "Rest up. I'm going to take a shower, and when I get back, you're going to take another load for me. Does that sound good, dyke?"

You can't do anything but nod weakly. There's no use fighting it anymore. Your gold star is gone. Your cunt belongs to your Daddy's cock now. And you can't wait to submit to it again.

[girliepopgoldie-deactivated2024]

more gross therapist brainrot. im thinking abt going to see a therapist for my dysphoria. he's a cis man and i'm nervous at first but he's so friendly and knows all the terminology and i begin to relax. he asks for more details and i start to tell him about how dysphoric my chest makes me. "sorry," he interrupts. "are you binding right now? your chest looks very flat to me."

i get embarrassed and blush. "oh yeah, i have a binder on."

"i see. so are they big without the binder? some cis men have fat on their chests, so maybe it's not actually that noticeable."

"um, yeah, they're pretty big...definitely noticeable i think."

"hm. i'm having trouble picturing it. maybe i could turn around and you could take off your binder? and put your shirt back on after, of course. it will help me understand your point of view. plus, i'm sure your back is sore, and it's just the two of us in here."

i'm very uncomfortable with this idea, but he is my therapist, so he must know what he's doing. "are you sure? is that something you usually do with your clients?"

"oh yes, this is all standard practice. go ahead! i'll turn around and close my eyes."

he stands up and turns to face the wall, holding his hand in front of his eyes. i acquiesce, taking off my binder and putting it to the side, letting my huge tits bounce free. my nipples immediately harden from the cold and the sensation of fabric brushing over them.

when i have my shirt back on i say, "o-okay, you can turn around now." he sits back down and stares openly at my chest. my face heats up.

"yes, i see, those are quite large." he notices my face turning red. "please, don't be embarrassed. they are also quite nicely shaped, if i may say so." before i can voice an objection, he continues: "i think we should try an exercise that often helps with my ftm clients' dysphoria. sometimes it can be helpful to appreciate your features instead of trying to hide them. after all, this is therapy, so we want to deal with things directly instead of avoiding them."

that does make sense to me, despite the twisting in my gut. "okay. i guess so."

"very good. now please close your eyes for me." i obey. "it may seem strange, but i am a professional and there's nothing to be ashamed of in here. now bring your hands to your breasts and hold one in each palm." at least my eyes are closed so i don't have to look at him while i do as he says. "excellent. slowly massage your breasts, kneading the flesh, but not too hard. we want this to be pleasurable." i start to do it, resenting the feeling of warmth in my crotch. "now rub your thumbs over your nipples. i see they're starting to harden. that's perfectly natural. concentrate on how good it feels to rub your breasts. you may even pinch your nipples if that is enjoyable for you." i do it despite myself, lost in the sensation. "keep going. do it for a minute, and don't stop thinking about the pleasure you're feeling." i'm still feeling dysphoric, but now i'm also turned on. i squirm a little in my seat, hoping it's not too noticeable.

"okay, you can stop now. open your eyes." i take my hands away from my tits, my nipples still hard, poking through the fabric. "how is your dysphoria now? any change?"

"uh, no. sorry."

"no need to apologize. sounds like we'll need to try another exercise. we really want to associate your chest with positive feelings instead of negative ones. so for this exercise, i want you to stand up and remove your shirt."

i balk at the request. "is that really necessary?"

his expression hardens. "please don't make this difficult. we're all adults here. do you want to get treatment for your dysphoria or not?"

i'm embarrassed. he's a doctor after all, why would i question his judgement? i'm probably just being prudish and immature. "sorry. yes, i do." i get up off the couch and take my shirt off, instinctively folding my arms in front of my chest.

"very good. arms behind your back, please." i obey. "now, stay in that position and close your eyes." when my eyes are closed i hear a drawer opening, then the flicking of a cap of some kind. i can feel my nipples stiffening in the air. the next thing i know, he's grabbing my breasts, rubbing something cold and wet on to my nipples. i gasp. "stay still, please. this is all part of the treatment." he runs his hands all over my tits, groping them, getting them all covered in what i assume is lube. he pinches my nipples and i bite my lip to stifle a moan. "very good. you may open your eyes now. i want you to look down at your breasts."

they're glistening and bouncing in his hands, covered in oil. "see how gorgeous they are? a lot of girls would love to have such beautiful big tits." his crude language catches me off guard.

"um, what?"

"i just want you to appreciate what you have. a little gratitude can go a long way." he jiggles my tits up and down. "i love looking at them bounce. see how happy these can make other people? it should make you feel good to know how pleasing these are to men. you need to look outside your self-centered perspective."

"doctor, i'm not very comfortable with this--"

"no?" without warning he sticks his hand under my waistband and rubs my clit, running a finger through my wetness. "it seems like your pussy is very comfortable. and your tits are so sensitive. see how good they can make you feel?" with his other hand he pinches my nipple again and this time i fail to stop myself from whimpering. "i knew you loved this. now watch me enjoy your tits for a bit. it will help you feel better about them."

i'm too shocked and turned on to do anything other than watch silently as he plays with my tits, groping them hard, massing them like putty, circling my nipples with his fingers. eventually he bends down and licks my nipple and i shudder in unwanted pleasure. then he sucks on it in earnest and i can't help but whine. he's right, it feels so good. i let him suck on them both, flicking my nipple with his tongue. then he pushes them together and spits on them. the spit tuns obscenely down my cleavage.

"take off all your clothes. i know exactly how to help you." at this point i'm too far gone not to do exactly as he tells me. i strip. when i'm done he's sitting back in his armchair, massaging his cock, his pants discarded although his shirt and tie are still on, which makes me burn with shame and arousal. "come sit on this and face me. i can make you feel so good."

i look at the floor in embarrassment as i walk over, climbing into his lap. i position myself over his erect cock. "there you go. just slide down onto it. you're all wet for me." i sink slowly onto his cock and moan. it feels so good inside me, filling me up. right as i get him all the way inside me, he says, "good girl."

"w-what?"

"oh, don't pretend it doesn't turn you on. i knew when you walked in that you weren't really a 'boy', just a slutty girl who needed some male attention. and i'm happy to give it to you. if you just showed off your tits more you'd be much happier."

i'm so humiliated i don't know what to say. he grabs me by the waist and starts fucking me up and down on his cock. "that's a good girl. i can feel how your pussy clenches around me when i say it. fuck, look at your big tits bouncing while i fuck you." he starts sucking and biting them. "tell me how much you love my cock."

"i love your cock," i moan, defeated. my voice hitches as he pounds into me.

"tell me you're a slutty girl who loves having her pussy fucked."

"n-no, please..."

he bites down hard on my tit. "say it."

"ugh, fuck..." his cock feels sooo good. "i'm a slutty girl who loves having her pussy fucked," i cry, and as i do he finishes inside me.

"good girl."

[sebastianized-deactivated202601]

He said it was $200 for the night, and you didn’t really need the money, but you hadn’t eaten properly in two days and your bank balance was sitting in the negatives, so you told yourself it would be easy. He looked normal in the photo. Not some faceless torso in a mirror. Just a man, older than you, clean-cut, strong hands. You tell yourself you’ve done worse. You tell yourself you can leave.

He opens the door like he was already standing there. Looks you over without a word, then steps aside and says, “Alright. Shoes off. Phone on the counter.” His voice is even, low, not especially warm. You step inside. It smells like fresh laundry and the faint bite of antiseptic. His place is spotless. You leave your shoes by the door. You put your phone down. The screen lights up once before going still.

“Stand still,” he says.

You stop in the middle of the room, wearing a soft, oversized t-shirt, and a pair of tight black shorts you pulled on without thinking. No boxers underneath. You didn’t expect to get this far.

He walks slowly around you, circling his prey, taking his time. You feel the weight of his eyes on the back of your neck. He doesn’t touch you yet. Just observes. Then he steps closer, and his hand reaches down, fingers hooking beneath the hem of your shirt. He drags them up lightly across your hip, then cups your ass in one palm and squeezes. Not playfully. Like he’s weighing it. Like he’s checking quality.

“This is what you came in?” he asks, tone light. “Didn’t even bother trying to make it difficult.”

You open your mouth to say something - you’re not even sure what -but he’s already moving. One hand presses flat against your upper back, steady and firm, while the other grabs the collar of your shirt and yanks it up over your head. The movement is clean, practiced. He tosses it to the floor without looking.

Then his fingers hook into your waistband. He doesn’t ask. He just pulls. The shorts slide down your thighs in one motion, and when he sees you’re not wearing anything underneath, he lets out a soft, amused exhale through his nose. He taps your ankle with the side of his boot and you step out of them. Now you’re naked. The air is cold on your skin. You keep your eyes on the wall.

He steps in close. His hand presses between your thighs, sliding through slick. He spreads you open without warning, then drags his fingers upward until they catch under your t-dick and make you jolt.

“Already soaked,” he says, his voice still calm. “Nervous or excited?”

You don’t answer. You’re breathing harder than you mean to. He slides one hand up your chest and finds your nipple, pinching it lightly at first - just to see. When your body twitches away, he grabs harder.

“Stay still.”

You do. You’re trying.

He kicks your legs apart with his boot. The stance makes your thighs ache almost immediately. He runs a hand down your spine, then presses between your shoulders until you’re bent at the waist, hands bracing on the wall, head lowered. He stays behind you for a moment. You hear the sound of his zipper.

When you glance back, you catch a glimpse of the strap he’s pulling out- dark silicone, already slicked. He’s still wearing his button-up, chest hair peeking through, sleeves rolled up just past his elbows. He lines up. Pushes inside without a word.

The stretch is brutal. Immediate. You make a noise you don’t mean to and your knees almost give, but he holds you in place with both hands, pushing deeper with slow, unrelenting pressure.

“Breathe,” he mutters, like it’s a courtesy. “You’ll take it.”

He sets a rhythm that’s steady but unforgiving, each thrust pushing you forward into the wall. He watches the way you tighten around him, how your fingers curl in desperation. He reaches between your thighs again, not to help - just to remind you he knows exactly how much you’re feeling. He taps your t-dick lightly with two fingers. You twitch.

“Sensitive,” he says, not unkind. Just factual.

You try to say something, but it comes out as a sound. That’s all he needs. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, just far enough to throw you off-balance. Then he shoves two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You gag around them, tears welling, not from pain exactly, just from the sheer force of being handled.

He starts fucking you harder. You can feel the slap of his hips against your ass, the sharp angle of the strap grinding too deep, too fast. His fingers are still in your mouth, and your arms are shaking from holding yourself up. You whine softly, and he finally pulls his hand away - only to slap your ass, flat and loud. You jolt. This wasn't part of the deal.

You’re crying now. Not sobbing. Just leaking. You blink hard and try not to make noise. He notices anyway.

“Mm,” he says, “don’t start crying now. I’m not even close.”

He keeps going. Drives into you until your legs stop working properly. Until you can’t hold yourself upright and you’re slumped against the wall, one hand pressed flat to the ground, the other useless. When he finally pulls out, it’s slow. Like he wants you to feel every second of it.

You drop to your knees without being told.

He wipes the strap off against your thigh.

“You can clean the floor,” he says, fastening his belt. “Then I’ll give you what I owe you. If I think you earned it.”

You don’t respond. You just lower your head. Your thighs are shaking. Your cunt’s still dripping. You reach for your shirt without thinking, but he kicks it further across the floor.

“Use your mouth.”

So you do. You lean down. Lick slowly, methodically, the way he seems to like it, head still spinning from overstimulation. When it’s done, you make a faint sound and look up at him.

He walks over to the counter, picks up the envelope you saw earlier, opens it.

Counts the money. Slowly. Like he’s giving it a chance.

Then slides it back into his wallet.

“No,” he smiles. “Not tonight.”

[mastrrpiece]

This could be your point of view.

-> More on MyP0V

[ftmbr33dingslut]

this and a fat nut inside my pussy 🤤🤤