meaner dog, crash test dummy, true verse, true switch, will rig you for science
i’m a bi trans dogthing in a poly relationship, please be respectful
Minors, terfs, transmeds/truscum, detrans blogs, and cishet people are not welcome here. Don’t interact with my nudes if you’re exclusively attracted to women or not attracted to men (honestly not sure what you’re doing here if that’s the case but hope you’re having fun!) Also please don’t interact if you are over 32.
don’t call me little or use boy(cunt/hole/pussy/tits/whatever) or (t/trans)boy for me, i’m a grown ass man, don’t infantilize me especially if you wanna get in my pants or dom. (good/sweet/pretty) boy is whatever, i’d prefer you say dog. everyone who’s allowed to call me puppy knows it already, you can ask but the answer’s probably no.
I do post hard kink, and it’s all tagged relevantly and assumes RACK. The stuff on my blog is for my own indulgence, but asks are welcome (can’t promise responses, tho).
i block any blogs without an age in their bio, who don’t respect my DNI, or at my general discretion (to avoid porn bots, viruses, and spam).
tag guide, kinks and squicks under the cut
Tags I Use:
people i talk about:
🐶: @bloodlux
🦝: @girlcock-at-its-finest
🐕🦺: @pitspuppy
#viewsofdog —> pics of me
#thoughtsofdog —> textposts for the masses
#voiceofdog —> audio
#the life of dog —> me talking to the void
#friends of dog -> mutuals
Stuff I like:
Pain and impact
Praise
Primal
Puppyplay/Petplay, esp pet4pet and pup4pup
Musk, Sweat and Spit
Bondage (aspiring rigger, let me practice on you)
Yiff
Non-traditional d/s and power dynamics
Overstimulation
CNC — hypno, violence, free use, intox
Multiple partners
Squicks (no shade, but I will avoid it — if you follow me and your blog is mostly the following, I’ll probably block you especially if you don’t tag it)
Kidnapping, most irl gore
Age regression/DDLG
Incest, Fauxcest, step- fantasies
Daddy/Mommy as a title in general
Feet
Scat
Piss
Sickness
Monogamy/monogamous infidelity
Pregnancy (impregnation is cool sometimes but not carrying the thing around)
If it’s not on this list, i probably don’t care about it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
btw u can call ur top a good boy when he’s hitting it and maybe he would enjoy that and then after he rearranges your guts maybe you could stroke his hair and tell him how good he was.please
I’m soooooo embarrassed. My lord told me “good night,” but I thought he was calling me a good knight, and, well, you could hear it clink against my codpiece.
i’ve been like playing with this other switch a decent amount and they kept like talking up their other domtop like “ooooh you gotta meet her she fucks like a demon and she’s really good with rope and she’s etc etc etc.” anyway guess who got topped and now wants to get cucked and stepped on. i’ll give you a hint, it’s not me.
anyone can say they like when it hurts.. but you have to admit, it does something to you when it’s that one person, doesn’t it?
you start fantasizing about exactly what kind of “hurt” she means, maybe how permanently she’ll allow you to mark her. how brave she would be, hissing through her teeth and trying to take it, as long as it means more of you. how a simple whine of your name would be enough to make the room spin from the implication alone. maybe she’s not the vocal kind? maybe you just find her completely destroyed and right on the edge the further you push her. how amazing would that be?
and will she hurt you back? because That’s important.
will your methods go unnoticed? or will every move you make be studied; your own tricks learned, adapted, and reapplied in real time. will she be ruthless? will she know exactly how to guide you through it to keep you hanging in the space between dazed and aware? will she even give you a choice? or will you be tied.. pinned.. willed under her until she’s had her fun?
it's hard to describe the appeal of it. the beauty, the artistry, the intimacy. the wonderful panic of being alive, the push and pull, the precision and recklessness that go hand in hand. what it rips out of you when it rips into you, the raging flood of feelings and sensations starved too long and how it leaves you at your rawest, all condensed into three short and simple words: make it hurt.
you've read my mind a little. you do pick up some skill from either end. almost intimately.
so of course I love a demonstration.
it's one of my favorite things to do, when I notice someone itching to pick up the tool and inflict this time - but it's no easy task. forbidden. the handle vibrates in your fingers with unspeakable power. you're not supposed to hurt. especially someone who hasn't given you a reason. things can feel slightly more familiar from the other end, the being hurt, and if you're good, you avoid it altogether. slightly less good, you take it quietly and bravely. and if the pain breaks you in half, you must've done something to really have it coming. but you never, ever, wrench the tool out of their hands. it's unspeakable to some, being on this end. so unfamiliar. easy to lose yourself to it. easy to miss, or lose control.
power over someone else's body, at its most vulnerable. no pretense. just honest reflex.
when you hold all the power, you can take things either way - because what does tolerance mean, really? how much we can take? how much we can take quietly? how much we can take well?
maybe, i'll make it a dance. guiding you, slowly. stretch. hand on the small of your back, deeper into its curve. you like being scratched? bitten? held down and pinched and grabbed until you bruise? hit? the intimacy of warm hands, or the adrenaline spike of an impact tool? which one? breathe. you're doing beautifully. admiring your body under duress, in the throes of its skill, its limits, its passion. relax. the strain of muscle and tendon, the pearls of sweat, the twitches and moans, the - was that my name? a gentle touch, until the tension dissipates. can you take more? for me? you can. I know it. it's a concerted and mutual effort. i'll fill you with pride, when you collapse. more than you could ever be ashamed of the sounds you made when there was nothing left that could've made you care. you did so well.
for me.
maybe you can see all the beauty in it, when you come down from the place you're floating in. no fear in picking up the same tools that brought you there - knowing you'll be giving me a gift.
or maybe, I'm really in the mood to suffer.
there's one thing I'm almost sure of in regards to you. we're athletes, both of us, we love a test of thrill, endurance, elegance. and if there's one thing that will make a person get up from the floor and take things into their own hands like nothing else, dust off and rewrap the bandages - whether they're made of cotton or satin - it's beautiful, lifesaving, insufferable spite. you have a streak to match mine, i'm pretty certain. and the tease that I am understands how to work it.
I've been on this end. I know what hurts, and why, and how much. It's not difficult to make somebody flinch and cry out even while the hurt itself stays harmless, if you're really going for it. it's just reflexes after all, healthy ones at that, and it says very, very little about how brave somebody is. and i can act so innocent about it. oh, was that too much? I'm sorry, I'll go easier on you. you're not ready for this yet. It all depends what image of yourself you have. you seem pretty intent on not making a sound. I hate to disappoint you. I won't tie you up for a reason. maybe you'll just tap out, and carefully plot your revenge while I'm busy rubbing lotion into your skin, and apologizing for being so ill-mannered. or maybe, my enthusiasm is enough to make the spark of spite rear up, pull the tool from my hand and show me exactly what you've learned.
you seem the observant type. much more than me, perhaps. hard to describe how excited i am to find out to what degree I've fucked around.
It’s sooo cold rn we all need to huddle for warmth. We need to get uncomfortably close snd giggly and entwine ourselves around each other and wrestle under the blankets and get handsy. For survival.
your only task is to prevent a collapse. there is a finish line, you'll reach it one way or another. let go of anything that weighs you down. surrender to forces out of your control, surrender the need to know what's coming and just know that it will. sacrifice that guarded tension that keeps you so rigid. prepare to move and be moved in the blink of an eye. surrender your pride. surrender what keeps your expressions in check. surrender your shame. surrender the instinct to keep your voice down, your hands still, and your bite disarmed - surrender to what affects you. let it get you, and there's nothing left to fear. surrender your cries, your curses, your tears, your wild and terrifying laughter. all your strength is needed somewhere else. feel the tremor, the strain - keep your feet on the ground. keep breathing until your lungs catch fire. keep your head above water, both hands off the wheel, surrender your myth, and whatever you do, don't even try to take it well.
i really wanna be babied into and during sex. like, gentle coercion with tons of reassurance while i whine and try to squirm away because pleasure is scary and i feel like i don't deserve it so you need to teach me that i do...
