Char’s parents surprise her with something she has always wanted.
༊༄.°
“After moving a new city and being so far from home we know it must be tough. I remember when my parents dropped me off at Berkley. It felt like I was drowning.” Her mother told her, keeping her hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “I was so unbelievably homesick.”
Charlotte smiled softly at her ever-emotional mother, sympathetically nodding as she watched her mother’s eyes fill with fears.
“We’re so happy that you’re so independent but we wanted to get you something to keep you company during this… Transitional period.” Her father explained. “Honey, do you wanna give it to her?”
Her mother nodded “We just, we love you so much, Charlotte.” She wiped her eyes and let out a breath, composing herself. She reached into the bag at her feet and produced a small box.
She placed it in her daughters’ hands and gave her a watery smile.
The box was the equivalent of an undersized Build-A-Bear box; white cardboard with childish doodles over it. It was designed to look like a tiny house, small holes dotted the sides.
Charlotte shot a glance at her parents, who were watching her reaction eagerly, before she pushed the handle down to free the cardboard flaps that kept the box sealed. She looked inside, eyes widening. “No way…”
Her father’s chronically un-silenced phone let out an audible camera click as she looked up at them in shock.
Inside the box, sitting on a bed of pink tissue paper was a miniscule girl, a shrinkee.
Her hair was dark, and long. Her tiny hands were clasped in her lap, she looked up with an innocent nervousness. She smiled weakly up at her new owner.
“We did our research, she’s from an extremely reliable company. They trained her, she’ll listen to you and give advice. She is cuddly and attentive. She should be perfect, Charlotte.” Her mother said with a smile, handing her a small card. It was a certificate.
It had a photo of the shrinkee at the top, she was 20 years old, born only a year before Charlotte, and her name. Molly.
Charlotte stared up at her parents in awe. “Thank you so much…” She carefully set the box down on her bed and hugged her parents.
They cooed and embraced her. “It’s the least we could do. I remember how fascinated you were with them when you were younger.” Her father reminisced. “We thought it was be a perfect gift for you-”
“For this next chapter.” Her mother finished, kissing her cheek.
Her father ruffled her hair, he had always been a bit unsure how to navigate situations with too much emotion. “Well, ah, if we don’t start driving we won’t get home until dark. So we should probably hit the road, kiddo.” He told her with a smile.
She nodded, smiling graciously at them. “I love you guys.” They embraced once more and Charlotte walked them to the door. She laughed softly as her mother began to cry again. Always so emotional.
She waved and closed the door, her hands lingering on the wooden doorframe for a moment. She could hear their footsteps going down the stairs.
She pulled up her hair as she walked back into her bedroom. She sat beside the bed and reached into the small box.
She heard a squeak of surprise from the shrinkee as she pinched her waist and pulled her from the box. She deposited the girl into her palm and held her at eye-level. “Molly, is it?” She murmured, looking her over.
“Y-Yeah, that’s me!” Her voice was soft and sweet. “Y-You’re Charlotte? Your mother said you were so lovely, they really love you! I hope I’ll be a good-”
“It’s Char.” She corrected softly, wetting her lips slightly. “So you’re trained? To do… What exactly?” She asked, keeping her voice low.
“Oh! Um, anything you’d like! I listen to commands, I won’t run away, or uh, get annoying or anything. Like a little built in friend.” Her little cheeks were rosy as she looked up at Char, almost struggling to maintain eye contact.
As she spoke Char sized her up. She was about the height of her middle finger. She was fair, had long dark hair, and she wore a white baby-doll dress. She hummed softly, barely listening to what she was saying. Her head was buzzing.
Without warning she pinched the bottom of her dress and pulled it off of her in one swift movement. Molly yelped and immediately brought her hands up to cover herself.
“Hands down.” Char told her, watching the girl’s face. Shock and fear, she hesitated. “I thought you took commands, hands down.” Char repeated, her tone sharper this time.
Molly bit her lip and dropped her hands to her sides. She was entirely naked besides a baby-blue pair of panties. Char drank her in, her small, perky tits rose and fell with each panicked breath. Her tummy had a faint happy trail leading into her panties. She was fucking perfect.
Char looked at her face, she looked so scared. The human smirked softly, her clit was throbbing. She crossed her legs under herself. She leaned forward and ran her bottom lip over her tits, she listened to the tiny girl’s sudden gasp.
She felt her nipples harden under the contact, she felt the girl plant her tiny hands against her face, fruitlessly trying to push her away. She pressed a kiss to her chest, her plush lips encasing her whole chest. She snuck out her tongue and ran it along the girl’s tits. She tasted of salt and faintly of soap.
She felt the shrinkee’s knees buckle slightly. Molly let out a shuddering breath. She circled her tongue over her nipple and ran her teeth over the fat of her tit. One of the girl’s hands came up to muffle a moan.
Char opened her eyes to look at her little face. She could see the fear in her eyes but the soft noises escaping her showed her giving into the pleasure. Almost as if her body was betraying her.
She pulled off of her and pressed another kiss to her tits.
“Sweet Molly.” She murmured as she pulled away. She glanced down at her panties, smirking as she saw the wet spot on the blue cotton. She hooked her pointer finger under the elastic.
“No!” Molly yelped, hands fastening to her panties; clinging to her dignity.
Char smirked at her and easily pulled them off of her. Molly whimpered and stepped back, stumbling slightly on her fleshy palm. The human watched, her eyes were hungry and sparkling with delight.
She held her pointer finger at her level. “Get off on it.” She told her.
“W-What?” Molly’s voice was soft, nearly inaudible. She looked up at her owner in horror.
“I said get off on it.” Char repeated, “Make yourself cum, orgasm.” She clarified. “Come on.” She told her as she hesitated.
“B-But I… I don’t-”
Char rolled her eyes, “Don’t make me ask again.” She murmured, tone flat and unforgiving.
The shrinkee swallowed thickly and took a shaky step forward, glancing up at Char to make sure she was serious. She stepped up, her owner’s finger between her thighs. She lowered herself onto Char’s pointer. She looked up once more before quickly averting her eyes.
She began to hump into her finger, whimpering weakly. “Good girl.” Char whispered, her tone sickly sweet. “There you go…” She coaxed
She could feel Molly’s dripping cunt against the sensitive pad of her finger. So warm and soft, her flesh wet and eager. The shrinkee whimpered and moaned weakly, rotating her hips to find purchase against her finger.
“Sweet thing, keep going…” She purred, watching the girl’s eyebrows knit together. She flinched at every word. She seemed to find her rhythm, she panted and moaned softly as she humped eagerly into her finger.
Char could tell she was close, her mouth was agape and she was all but slamming her cunt into her fingerpad. The human lifted her chin to face her, watching her eyes snap open. They were watery, scared of what she might do next. “Don’t stop, look into my eyes when you cum.” She commanded.
Molly hiccuped on a soft sob and gasped. Her back arched and her thighs quivered. She was stiff, almost statuesque as she came. Her eyes were locked on Char’s, tears slid down her cheek as slumped against her finger, coming down from the orgasm.
Char smiled and kissed her cheek, licking her tears. “What do you say?” She purred into her ear.
“T-Thank you.” Molly’s voice was weak, nearly inaudible.
“Good.” Char pulled her finger away, sucking off the cum Molly had left behind. She smiled down at her; her thighs were glistening with cum. She pressed a kiss to her belly, admiring the way she flinched from the touch.
Char set her on the bed, seeing her relief as she was put down. She bit back a grin. She stood and tugged off her tee-shirt and unclipped her bra. She watched Molly stare, almost in disbelief before that was quickly replaced with terror. She clicked her tongue, “Don’t worry, sweet thing.” She chuckled. She stripped out of her jeans and panties and sat down on the carpet. “C’mere…” She told her, stretching out her palm.
Hesitantly Molly got to her feet and stumbled into the palm. Char curled it around her, holding the shrinkee in a loose fist. She sat back against the bed, facing her mirror. She spread her legs and dropped Molly onto the carpet.
“Make me cum.” She told her. She bit her lip as Molly looked up fearfully.
“Char, I-I can’t. I-I won’t.” She quickly shook her head and back-pedaled.
“Sweet thing… You have to.” Char told her. “C’mon…” She corralled her with her hand, leading her towards her slick cunt.
“I-I don’t know how…” Molly’s voice broke, she pressed herself back against Char’s hand.
The human girl sighed softly, before she reached down with her other hand. She lifted her outer lips to reveal her clit, already pink and throbbing. “Suck this.” She told her. “Then use your hands everywhere else. You’ll figure out the rest.” She then pushed Molly to her cunt, she thrashed and let out a yell.
Char’s mouth fell open, “Fuck… That works too…” She whispered, humming as her fingers pinned her to her pussy. The shrinkee thrashed and cried out, sobbing softly. Char moaned and lifted her a bit higher, her face level with her clit.
Her thumb pressed her face against it and Char melted back against her beframe. She moaned deeply, “F-Fuck…” She hissed. Her eyes went wide as Molly opened her mouth and began to lick and suck at her. “Jesus… There you go…”
She looked down at her, watching her. Molly had her eyes screwed shut, tears trailed down her cheeks. She gagged slightly as Char pressed the back of her head, making her take the clit in full. “Good girl…” She whispered, “Mmm, that’s it…” She panted.
Char could recall the first time she discovered shrinkee porn. Unlimited internet access, it wasn’t hard to find. With the right key words there were playlists of public porn all over youtube. It was late at night, the family computer.
She stared, eyes glued to the screen as she watched a tiny man choke on a giant tit. And even though he was fighting it, his tiny cock was hard as a rock and drooling precum. It was permanently imprinted on her brain.
She looked down at the tiny girl. It was finally her turn.
She cruelly pressed the back of her head, mashing her tiny face into her flesh. She moaned as she renewed her struggles, kicking and thrashing against her. Char couldn’t take it any longer.
With her middle and ring finger she found the back of Molly’s head and began to circle her clit. She could hear Molly occasionally gasping for air.
For a moment Char pulled back,“P-Please! Stop! PLEASE-” She slammed her back into her clit. Char moaned and watched the mirror in front of her. The scene was obscene. Her pink cunt was shining, dripping. Molly’s little legs and arms flailed helplessly beneath her fingers.
“Fuck…” Char panted, speeding up the pace. So close… She thought of the videos she had seen, the porn she had read. She imagined Molly’s perspective, her horror, her pleas…
Char came loudly, throwing her head back. She shoved Molly down her cunt and crossed her legs tightly, sealing her in her cunt. She shuddered with aftershock, panting and blissed out.
She sat there for a moment, feeling Molly quiver and thrash against her flesh. She licked her lips and grabbed her thong. She spread her legs and pulled up her panties.
She stood and adjusted Molly, making sure her face pressed flush to her clit. Char pulled the thong up tight, trapping the shrinkee against her. She hummed, cupping her cunt and running her middle finger along Molly’s back. Molly squirmed which elicited a soft hum and a shiver of delight.
Perfect. Char pulled on her jeans and got dressed. She had dinner with some new friends.
She couldn’t wait to get home and experiment more.
there's something sooooo good about hunting. about prowling soundlessly through the undergrowth, unheard, unseen. about catching the taste of something in the air and knowing exactly what kind of prey that scent will lead to. rolling that thought around your head like something sweet in your mouth as you follow, teasing yourself with the thought of what's waiting for you, blissfully ignorant of you. cock jutting from between your hind legs, drooling pre, taut and hot in the empty air. the fucking twitch that goes through it when you finally have eyes on your prey, right there, so close, but instead of charging you have to slow to a crawl, close that gap inch by torturous inch. their past few seconds slipping from them unnoticed, ending in a rush of air, a flicker of movement, the turn of their head towards you, their widening eyes as it dawns on them that it's all over, their abortive attempt to run crushed under your weight, breath knocked from their body before they can scream, the blood-hot feel of hilting yourself in them with one stoke, jaws clamped about their neck, the taste of their blood as you fuck them and fuck them and fuck them
Whenever I see posts about being like, insatiably horny, they're always from subs with degradation kinks who want to be used and reduced to a needy, whining mess by being told what a slut they are. And that's great, good for them but like
When I'm in that mood, I want to be fucking feared.
I want to prowl the corridors having burned through every willing lover I keep, each one left barely conscious and slick with me inside and out. I want to track the spreading news of my appetite by the retreating trails of fear-scent, something that only makes my senses sharper and my cock harder.
I want to hunt down whoever is unlucky enough to be nearest, servant or guest or friend, it doesn't matter, and I want to use them as I would use any other toy, pin them down and fuck myself into them, the struggling and tight resistance of their body making the pleasure of breaking into them so much sweeter. I want to do this again and again, ruler of my own personal hunting ground. Some run. Some force me to damage them more than I'd like. And some of them enjoy it; I'll remember which ones they are. I like to keep willing flesh around.
I want to have just finished fucking a third round into some unfortunate when I catch the unmistakable lust-scent of someone across the room- a voyeuristic servant, terror pouring off them as my gaze meets theirs, as I pull myself free and bear inexorably down on them, moaning in fresh delight as I find how wet they are for me.
I want to fill and overfill them with my tongue, the taste of them wiping away any signs that my hunger might be flagging. They last a long, long time, though I make no effort to draw it out, invading their mouth, their holes, their hands, the meeting of their thighs. But they still inevitably collapse beneath me, and when I'm bored of using them like that, I move on from them as I do all the others.
And when I am finally, finally done, when I am more exhausted than sated, when I have dragged myself back to my rooms and collapsed into my nest, heart pounding, limbs shaking, cock and belly and paws and face slick and stained-
Then I want to feel the touch of my beloved, hear the sly smile in their voice as they ask if I've been enjoying myself. I want to reach for them only for them to gently push me back- no need, they say, they can see how tired I am. I want them to mount me, ride me as I sink my claws into their hips and pull them closer, push myself deeper. I want the last thing I feel as I fall asleep to be their warmth and their walls swallowing around me.
dragon breaking in her new human toy by lashing them to her underside and making them it cockwarm her constantly for the better part of a week straight
"i mean, the Taylane village isn't producing much surplus goods so i'd be happy to sell that parcel of land to you in exchange for - sorry, ignore the gagging noises, poor thing doesn't have their throat trained yet - that contested area of woods you don't use"
An addition to my thoughts on plushies. There's something special about the way they literally can't fight back. Spending an hour cuddling mine, shoving its face into my tits every time it tried to talk, and locking my legs around it so it couldn't even try to escape was really fun. Also, the sounds it made when I squeezed it until it changed colors were really nice. Highly recommend.
need more monster posts about recieving pleasure that doesnt automatically make the recipient the sub
like. allowing a human settlement to slowly grow right at a distant edge of my territory til I deem it worth razing, taking my pick of new toys and devouring the rest along with their livestock. returning to my den and servants with limbs aching from the long journey, maw and claws and mane matted with gore. tossing my prizes aside for the moment, knowing they'll be taken care of, fed, cleaned, dressed, restrained if necessary, and sinking into the waters of a hot spring. the heat soaking into my muscles and starting to warm away the aches there while half a dozen pairs of hands work the dried blood from my fur and muzzle, the only interruption the occasional sting as an arrow or splinter is dug from a flesh wound.
when that's done, hauling myself out to drowse and be dried off and have my body worked over more fully. Claws spread and sharpened, sensitive pads pressed and checked for injuries and softened with oils if they're looking too dry. Jaws open so my teeth can be picked clean of cloth or sinew, irritating splinters of bone or metal dug from my gums. The pleasure of having my tongue pushed on and the taste of skin more than enough to get me hard, tail curling and uncurling with every shiver through my body.
having a bound toy brought and positioned under me, so as my cock emerges from its slit, I push straight into a hot, tight, slick hole. rocking my hips into it as my muscles are worked over to finish what the hot water started, especially around my shoulders, hips, and the base of my wings. especially my wings. pressure on the aching flight muscles is delicious, the limbs being moved and stretched making me purr. the purring only gets louder when hands move to my belly, the skin there extra sensitive because of how I gorged myself earlier.
a second toy placed between my jaws, legs forced apart and pinned between my back teeth, licking the salt and fear-taste from their skin, burrowing my tongue into them until they howl, the swell I make in their stomach pressing against the back of my incisors.
a full-body shudder as I come, pulsing so much into the toy beneath me that the bulge of my cock disappears. they're pulled off me, turned around, and have barely enough time to open their mouth before I plunge my cock into their throat. barely softening, I press myself deeper, as far as I can go, purring still as my servants carry on massaging my aches away.
that continuing til I physically cannot come any more, having each toy replaced as they're filled up or worn out, til I'm mindless and limp with well-fed animal pleasure.
Deliberately not wearing deodorant just so I can force a tiny against my armpit and feel them squirming and hear them crying and retching from the overpowering smell……….. O_O
Underrated preds are the ones who don't threaten or even acknowledge the prey.
No seats open on the train? well, they're sitting down and if you end up inside their ass that's your problem.
Working late and need dinner? they just grab someone and swallow them down. they don't even acknowledge their horrified friends as they keep walking without breaking stride.
Accidentally bumping into someone and they get absorbed into your body? well tough luck, but you have errands to run and can't stop to fish them out.
no matter what kind of vore, there's always a way to involve casual cruelty or dangerous negligence to a scenario and it just drives me wild
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