oozey mess
izzy's playlists!
#extradirty
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noise dept.
Sade Olutola
tumblr dot com
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
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Interview Vampire Daily
tannertan36
YOU ARE THE REASON
Cosmic Funnies
Monterey Bay Aquarium
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Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle
seen from France
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from Trinidad & Tobago
seen from Spain
seen from New Zealand
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Bangladesh
seen from Brazil
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@but-a-licentious-prince
✨Intro Time✨
Good day to my friends, foes, and nonbinary hoes!!
And a bad day to any minors on my blog
(Okay not a bad day but seriously you need to leave 🫵🏻)
You need to have your age in your bio/intro pin to interact!! I will be checking. Minors and ageless blogs get blocked, sorry not sorry 🤷🏻♂️
My Throne for anyone that wishes to spoil a prince~
Fish with arms i guess
((follow-up to this post))
The denied knight has waited long enough.
Those who have been watching him suffer agree. Two full weeks without orgasm is a long time. Especially when you’re being teased relentlessly.
They join him for a drink first, noting his downcast eyes, his tense shoulders, the way his voice is quieter than usual. He’s nervous, they know. It’s okay. He still wants this, he’s made it explicitly clear. They all do, and they have all night.
The denied knight still flushes a little, but is notably more relaxed when his bedmate offers the invitation to the room. Who wants him next?
When his Prince rises from his chair, still mostly clothed but for the unbuttoning of his silk shirt, the knight feels himself twitch with anticipation. The attention of his Prince never fails to get him going, and with the pleasant mix of arousal and endorphins in his stomach, he can't help whining your Highness as the man approaches.
Ready for me, my love? The Prince settles himself on his stomach, propped up on his elbows between the knight's legs, and the bed dips from the other side of it as the captain also joins them, but his attention is on the knight's bedmate, who hasn't stopped touching themselves and is beginning to breathe heavily. The denied knight thinks for a moment that he wants to join with his captain in pleasuring his comrade, thanking them properly, but then he feels the Prince's slender fingers trace lightly down the insides of his thighs, and all other thoughts flee his mind.
need more knights that can’t watch others fighting due to their aversion to witnessing violence and the ways they can feel the blows echo through their own body instead. and then hear their royal’s command and fight like all the holy fires of hell unleashed on the battlefield with the battlelight glowing in their eyes
Reblog to hug prev
Please
captain of the guard fucking a knight for the first time and murmuring biiiig stretch under his breath as he enters him for the first time. in exactly the same tone as when he whispers that’s it when the knight disarms him on the training ground. do you see the vision
@knights-hand
@knights-hand
Your royal highnesses, if you wish to watch me train my knights you need only to ask. I have several suitable candidates for a session such as this, I could have it arranged at your whim. Unless you have someone particular in mind, of course.
Need to kneel today.
Could be for my Prince, head bowed in deference, eyes unworthy to meet his. Could be for my captain, my knees already accustomed to taking this position before him. Could be for my jester, my eyes fixed on their leggings, on the bells at the ends of their slippers.
Whoever I kneel for, I’m not asking for much. No need to tease, not today. Instead I ask for assistance in removing my helmet, in uncovering my head. I don’t need anything else to be bared. I don’t need your body. I just want your hands.
Warm, steady palms cupping my chin and my cheek. Deft fingers pushing my hair back from my eyes. Nails scratching lightly at my scalp. Just enough to ground me, to make me certain that we’re both here. That we’re both right where we want to be.
Perhaps a hushed reminder that I’ve pleased you. An assurance that my affections do not fall on deaf ears. That you are happy to care for me like this, you aren’t doing it out of necessity. Perhaps this would be nice, if it’s not too much to hope for.
Let me go quiet in your hands.
((follow-up to this post))
The denied knight has waited long enough.
Those who have been watching him suffer agree. Two full weeks without orgasm is a long time. Especially when you’re being teased relentlessly.
They join him for a drink first, noting his downcast eyes, his tense shoulders, the way his voice is quieter than usual. He’s nervous, they know. It’s okay. He still wants this, he’s made it explicitly clear. They all do, and they have all night.
His fellow knight is the first to make a move, guiding him to the bed and lying down beside him. They suggest he begin by touching himself. Not there, just anywhere, beginning the sensations, bring the blood to the surface. A slide here, a grab there, a slap or two for good measure. They speak softly but with confidence, giving the denied knight something to focus on, giving easy direction. A knight knows obedience intimately.
Touches growing bolder, layers being shed, garments tossed aside to the floor. Try this oil, rub it on yourself. Get comfortable touching. The denied knight’s eyes are closed, his cheeks burning, trying not to think about the other voyeurs. Royal ears straining to hear the knight’s shaky breaths. The sharp eyes of his captain tracking every slip of the knight's fingers through his folds. Just focus on this, his bedmate murmurs, focus on the sensations. Relax. We all want this. You’re safe.
The denied knight’s brother-in-arms hasn’t stopped mirroring the movements, their own hand between their legs, their instructions taking on a breathy quality as they pleasure themselves. Does that feel good? Relax your thighs, just feel. Go ahead and moan, you don’t have to hide it.
He has to close his eyes before he can let himself be vocal, but once he starts, it’s like the first stone slipping down the mountainside, the beginnings of the avalanche. Sighs escape his lips, then gasps, and a moan when he feels his bedmate’s free hand cup his cheek, tilting his face towards them, guiding him to meet their eye. He finds his own desperation mirrored there, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to breathe his comrade’s name, a please not far behind.
The other knight understands and is quick to replace his fingers with theirs, slick mixing between the denied knight’s legs. Their touch is skilled and gentle, and it isn’t long before the denied knight is arching into their hand, head thrown back as his long-awaited release races towards him.
He covers his mouth with his hand when he comes, only barely smothering his cries, dimly aware of the sensation of lips pressing kisses to his forehead as his bedmate’s fingers slow down. Gods, listen to you, whispered in his ear. You sound so sweet for us. That’s it, good, so good.
The knight’s orgasm finishes gently, the touch at his centre careful to guide him back down to earth, continuous praise breathed against his cheek. He catches his breath, body limp, and manages to sigh a thank-you to the knight at his side. His bedmate’s touch retreats after a moment, once the knight is sufficiently boneless, and returns to their own arousal, touching almost lazily.
The denied knight could almost drift off to sleep, so relaxed and fuzzy, but then someone hums a chuckle, and he’s reminded of their audience. Fresh colour blooms to his cheeks as he makes hazy eye-contact with his Prince, who offers him a smirk.
One, the Prince says.
Minors and ageless blogs DNI
Now some people might disagree with me about this, but do you remember when Maleficent turned that raven into a man in the live-action movie? Yeah that was hot. That transformation was hot, sorry not sorry *shrug*
IM MAPPING THIS SHIT OUT
THE INSANITY GROWS
Shit I forgot Gray, they are in the polycule too, right?
Highlights:
Liz banging EVERYONE
Helm Mx Red Flag
Polycule at the center could be a pentagram to summon the gay devils but I'm not cleaning that up now
Oh my fucking god
I was trying to get to sleep you guys
I am whisper screaming at 1am
captain of the guard fucking a knight for the first time and murmuring biiiig stretch under his breath as he enters him for the first time. in exactly the same tone as when he whispers that’s it when the knight disarms him on the training ground. do you see the vision
@knights-hand
@knights-hand
Knight kneeling before their royal, yes, absolutely, I understand.
But I can’t stop thinking about royal kneeling before their knight.
And not even in a particularly submissive way. The spoiled prince being put in his place by his cruel knight, I’ve seen it.
But I couldn’t. No matter how far my prince pushed me, no matter how badly he made me want to take him by the throat and give him a piece of my mind (and maybe a piece of a few other things, too) I would never. Not because I wouldn’t be physically capable, but because I simply wouldn’t. I have no desire to lay a hand on his body in any way that doesn’t cause him pleasure.
I want my prince to kneel before me, chin tilted back, eyes hooded, teeth flashing in a grin. I want him to laugh at my wide-eyed swallow, at how I squirm because a prince should not be kneeling for his servant, but he orders me to stay where I am, and I have no choice but to look down on him. It goes against all I’ve been taught, but so does disobedience, and he reminds me that this is still service. I’m still doing what he says, because it never would have crossed my mind not to.
I want his hands on the sides of my legs, whether or not my armour remains. Maybe I can see and hear his fingers tracing the material, treating it like silk with how gentle and steady he is. Or maybe, it’s just hose and braies between my skin and his, and the heat of his touch bleeds through to me. Surely he can feel my legs tremble, as his hands move up and down their sides.
I need him to direct my hand to his head, either with his own hands, or simply with a word. I want to rest a shaky hand in his hair, certain that I’m defiling him just by touching him, like I’ve sullied a holy altar. He nuzzles up into my palm, praising me all the while for obeying, even as the reversed roles make me squirm. The hound praising the handler.
When he exposes me, I want him to tease first, just nosing at me and breathing deep of me, a murmured sigh of lust exhaled hot over me. I want to whisper his title as he glances up at me, the picture of submission but wholly in control. Need him to tell me that it’s okay, I’m allowed to have this, to enjoy this, before his tongue is on me and my fingers are tightening in his hair. Want him to keep teasing by stopping every few moments to back off and murmur praises up to me, telling me how sweet I taste, how obedient I’m being, how well I’m serving him. Want his fingers to press into my hips and coax me into motion, rocking against him, into him. Want to feel him moaning on me, drinking deep, savouring slowly. Want him to hold me at the edge, dragging it out, pausing to laugh at how desperate I am for him every time I cry his name into my free hand. It’s the only way I’ll say his given name, stifled in a palm, not worthy of calling him by it, but oh, he loves to hear it so poorly hidden behind my fingers, loves to hear me forget myself on his tongue.
Need him to keep me there at the edge almost effortlessly because I won’t finish without permission, and he knows he doesn’t even need to tell me that. I am his. It goes without saying that my orgasm is his to bestow upon me, at exactly the moment he chooses and not a breath before.
Need to slump over him, almost leaning on him for support as my knees threaten to buckle, and it’s not until he feels that, feels that I can’t hold on and I’m begging him to let me finish, that he will have mercy on me, pulling away only long enough to growl “cum for me, my knight” and diving back in to finally drag me over the edge. Staying locked there as I come apart, crying out and spilling and sobbing his name and his title interchangeably, until I push a hand into his shoulder just to stay standing, wishing deliriously that he would let me lie back on the bed next time while knowing that it would be nothing short of a sin for one such as I to languish in his bed. Besides, we both know that it would have defeated the purpose.
This was never about me. This was always about him and the power he has over me, the power he has earned to take me however he wants, standing or kneeling or lying down. This was about keeping me on my feet, the soldier I am, forcing me to stay solid while he undid me from the position of a servant, reminding me what I am. I may have been the one to cum, this time, but as he kisses over my thighs and nibbles at my hips, he tells me again, again, again: this was an act of submission to him. And I did so, so very well.
I hadn't noticed the luxurious cart until I was about to leave bloodhaven, but its strange allure was simply too strong not to indulge.
Out of sheer curiosity, I enter the shop, unsure what I'll find but with a feeling I won't leave empty handed.
A small bell rings out as the door opens to reveal the interior of the wagon, the space much larger than the exterior would imply and decorated with luxuriant draperies. A subtly spiced scent hangs in the air, warm and inviting.
To the left sits a semi-circular seating area with a round table and plush velvet cushions. To the right, a series of curio cabinets line the wall displaying the shop's wares. Each item sits upon a cushion like a treasure, illuminated by the soft warm glow of mage-light.
Towards the far end of the space, a counter stands before a curtained door. Behind the counter, a figure shrouded in red and gold silks sits with a book in hand. Their veiled head raises as they hear the bell chime.
"Ah! Well met, Noble Knight. Welcome to my wagon of Wonders."
My eyes wander across the shelves, and my suspicions on this places purpose are quickly confirmed.
I smile at the veiled person, my interest clear.
"Well met, merchant. What an interesting set of wares you've curated."
Oddly enough, even among the scented oils and various phallic and yogic objects, the first thing to grab my attention is a vase full of seemingly mundane feather. They're far larger than any I've seen but soft as down. I shudder to think what monstrous fowl would shed such a feather, but I know just the knight to try it on.
I note the item for later, for it has but whetted my appetite. "Tell me merchant, what are these artifacts?" I gesture towards the shelves.
The figure nods in a somewhat humble gesture. The question is one they receive in many forms and with frequency. A gloved hand deftly places a ribbon between the pages of their book to mark their place, then tucks the volume beneath the counter as they answer.
"I specialize in personal pleasure products and prophylactics, both magical and mundane. These-" The Peddler indicates the contents of the cabinets with a graceful gesture, "are examples of the sorts of items I have on offer, both for solitary and accompanied use. My wares include a wide variety of tools to obtain a broad spectrum of satisfactions according to the specific tastes of my clientele."
Though their face is veiled, the soft weight of their gaze passes over Thorn - assessing and calculating in the way of a seasoned merchant.
"Might I offer my assistance in your browsing? Or do you perhaps have some particular items in mind already that you would like to inquire about? I am more than happy to provide whatever level of consultation you require, Sir Knight."
"Some guidance would be most appreciated. I'm looking for tool for partnered use first and foremost, though I'm open to all options. The wonderful people I have in my life are quite varied, so I'm sure I'd find use for a great many wares of yours."
My mind is already running wild with possibilities. Some form of restraints would be appreciated by all, a leash and collar would be heavenly for some, clamps, blindfolds, gags, muzzles, all things I could find use for. I hardly dare imagine what joys the Arcane items may bring.
The Peddler nods. "I understand. Allow me to show you some of my wares."
The figure walks around from behind the counter and guides Captain Thorn to the cabinets and their displays. "If anything should catch your eye or spark your curiosity, please feel free to interject as I explain each item's purpose."
The first cabinet contains several cubbies displaying what at first glance appear to be collections of jewelry.
"These," the Peddler indicates a wide golden choker and matching bracelets, "are a bespelled set of cuffs and collar. They are intentionally designed for discretion, but can be activated by a command word to immobilize the wearer by either affixing to each other or to a chosen object, such as a headboard."
They move on to a mundane but glittering set of small clamps attached by a fine chain, explaining their function in providing stimulation to the nipples. Then a magical rope that will tie or untie itself by verbal command, an item the Peddler assures can be utilized in a wide variety of ways.
They display a set of what appear to be metal talons that can be worn on the ends of one's fingers. The Peddler explains that these, like the vase of feathers and a nearby collection of silken strips resembling favors, are intended for the purpose of what they refer to as "sensory play".
Moving to a nearby case, they reveal a collection of leather items. Some are harnesses, some less discrete collars and cuffs, as well as an assortment of gags. The Peddler explains the purposes of the different styles of gags, from the bite bar to a ventilated sphere. One appears at first to simply be a misplaced collar, a metal ring with straps to either side, but the Peddler explains its function is to hold the mouth of the wearer open rather than to muffle speech.
The golden choker and bracelets immediately catch my attention, and my mind starts flickering through each person who might enjoy them. I stop myself before I run too wild with ideas; the pieces look to be pure gold, and lord knows what the enchantments themselves may cost.
The ring gag though is another matter. That thing is going into my collection immediately. And probably another gag or two, for good measure.
"You wouldn't happen to have any item that might give pleasure to one at another's behest? Something subtle, preferably?"
The Peddler takes in Captain Thorn's request with a slight tilt of their head. A small contemplative sound filters out from beneath their veil as they attempt to parse the knight's meaning.
After a short moment, they reply, "Ah, do you perhaps mean something like these?"
They lead him to another cabinet, the soft glow of mage-lights brightening at their approach.
This display hold a variety of objects, some in the shape of smooth plugs (clearly intended for insertion into various orifices), others are gently contoured disks that might sit against the curves of a body. Each is presented in a pair with what at first glance appears to be something like a worry-stone fashioned from polished metal.
"These are tools for stimulation at a distance," the Peddler explains. "One half is worn either within or against the body, with sensations transmitted according to certain rhythms or gestures made against its respective control stone. Allow me to demonstrate."
They reach out their gloved hands and select a pair, handing the Captain the half intended to sit against a body. The Peddler then guides him to hold the object between his palms. They give the control stone two deliberate taps with their thumb and the curve within Thorns hand vibrates sharply in reply.
"Now that the pair are activated, gestures here-" The Peddler runs their thumb up and down the surface of the gleaming metal, the movement echoed by a mirrored buzz and tingle like the stroke of a finger against the Captain's palm, "will be conveyed there."
"That's perfect." He says as he examines the little device, head spinning with ideas. "What a marvelous collection you have indeed."
He considers his options for a moment. The smooth stone in his hand would be possible to simply drop into a person's base layer, provided it sat tight enough. That was certainly true for at least some of its potential recipients. The thought of putting it in Errant's codpiece almost makes him buy it on the spot. But that'd be too obvious. Getting caught with such a device would be unfortunate, to say the least.
No, some device of internal touch would be more favorable. Lucky for him he had yet to find a partner who didn't have a hole they liked to have filled. He lets his gaze wander across toys of all shapes and sizes, until they find one of dark polished stone. The shape is odd, oblong and quite girthy, tapering gently towards the top and sharply at the bottom, where a stem of sorts attaches.
"That one." He points at the tool. "Would that one be available for purchase?"
some of you desperately need hobbies that aren't feuding
royalty kink where he's a soft spoiled prince and im his battle tutor who has to be a little too rough during combat lessons to teach him 😵💫
assuring the king that his son is doing well in class, but the only thing he's learning is how good it feels to be pushed on the ground and fucked like a slut for losing our sparring matches.
so many people seeing the prince walk around the palace covered in scrapes and bruises, not knowing he begged me for half of them.
the prince's advisors being so happy that he's finally taking an interest in combat and battle techniques! he had never bothered with it before, but now he disappears for hours every day to "practice"!
and of course his skills are actually improving too, every time he manages to nick me with his blade he is handsomely rewarded; for every point he scores i milk another orgasm out of his oversensitive cock while he babbles incoherently.
i just love the idea that this prince who's always been treated so gently finally has someone be rough on him and he becomes instantly addicted to it.
A loyal knight who stands next to the Queen's throne, unmoving and stoic. Their hands at rest on the pommel of the sword in front of them, the sharp edges gleaming ominously in the sunlight at those who dare to look. They stand there as a reminder. A threat.
The visitors whisper amongst one another about the knight. It hasn't moved, hardly breathed. There's no way it could be a human, perhaps the queen has acquired an otherworldly guardian...
What they don't see is that the gauntlets are welded together. The blade of the sword blocks their view of the metal bar keeping the knight's feet apart. They can't comprehend that, behind the visor, is a bit that forces the knight's mouth around it while they stand there. Drool is running down their chin and soaking into their tunic, but it's all hidden neatly behind walls of steel.
And, oh, how the knight loves every moment of it. To be forced to stand here for their Queen's amusement. Restrained blatantly in front of all the nobles and commoners who arrive, but who are too intimidated to look for long and see it.
The knight's blood boils whenever the Queen gives them a knowing glance from her throne, thinking of what sort of reward they shall get later for being so good.
Art i made for an ask but decided i wanted to do something different for it, still wanted to post this though :P
Showing off after training 💪🏻
