I'm Nick, 20, transmasc, bisexual, autistic, goth/alt, he/him pronouns only. This blog is for horny kinky transmasc things. MINORS DNI
DNI if under 18, detrans or misgendering kink, map, zoo, transphobic, homophobic, rascist, ableist, thinspo, not attracted to men, or trump supporter. If you don’t say you like men in your bio and your blog is just naked women I will block you
I just want to talk about hot kinky sex <3
Virgin whore
I’m a switch, sub and bottom leaning
You can call me baby, bunny, daddy, faggot, boytoy, slut, whore, good boy, pretty boy, cumdump, fleshlight, omega, etc...
Don’t talk about my tits, talk about my chest like it’s already flat. You can call my sex my holes, my cunt, boycunt, pussy, womb, dick, cock, tdick, cocklet, etc... DO NOT say vagina or clit, those words make me uncomfortable
Some of my kinks include breeding, pregnancy, creampies, gangbang, exhibition, objectification, somno, overstimulation, free-use, bondage, fauxcest, cnc/rapeplay, impact play, choking, humiliation, teasing, praise, degradation, edging, dacryphilia (crying), marking/claiming, ownership, body worship, hucow, lactation, lingerie, sensory deprivation, orgies, gloryhole, pet play (bunny, kitty, and puppy), primal, cum inflation, monsterfucking, tentacles, royalty/regency, abo dynamics, dumbification/hypnosis, etc... posts will be tagged accordingly
HARD NO'S include detrans, misgendering, raceplay, scat, necro, gore
Open to DMs but I will ONLY send pictures to mutuals!!!
I am not looking for a sexual or romantic relationship on here, I’m not your sub and I’m not going to meet up with you, but you should tell me all the nasty kinky things you want to do to me
At first, you don't even want to look into it. You're not scared of what it might show you; at least, that's what you tell yourself. You just don't think it's worth your time. You'll find your own way forward. You don't need anyone to tell you what you're going to do.
But you're curious. You can't deny that. You have your own ideas of what you want, but you do wonder what the mirror might show you. It could tell you whether you're on the right path.
It could tell you what to do.
So, like so many of your friends before you, you look. It's meant to be only a peek. One little glimpse. That's all you'll need.
But you can't look away.
At first, you're confused. You'd thought you would see some marker of a future career, some sign of where your life would go. Even if you still looked the same, there would at least be some shift in the background to show where you were going to go. Instead, everything looks just as it would in an ordinary mirror. You even look behind you, to make sure you haven't missed anything, before staring into the mirror again.
Then you see it: there is a change. Your gaze in the mirror is unfocused and hazy. Your lips are slightly parted, and a little drool has collected at the corner of your mouth. You look soft. Malleable. Docile.
Empty.
You look beautiful.
You don't know where that thought came from. It pops into your head all at once, so easily that it might have been one of your own thoughts. You don't think it is, though. You would never have thought that before. (Would you?) Something else must have put that in your mind.
It's true, though. The more you stare at your expression, the more you realize it. There's something beautiful about how open and helpless you look. There aren't any thoughts in that head. It's empty of anything, waiting for someone else to put something in there. A wish, a desire, even a new identity.
You moan, a low, hungry sound. Your mouth doesn't fully close afterward. It hangs open slightly, and you have no will to change that. The blankness in your reflection's eyes is sapping all the will from you.
Your reflection's eyes? Your eyes? It's growing harder for you to tell.
It's growing harder for you to care.
It takes only a few minutes for you to tear your eyes away from the mirror, though it feels like far longer. You stumble away, leaving the room, and your thoughts slowly return to you.
You can't forget your reflection, though. It lingers in the back of your mind, calling you to your inevitable future.
Thinking once again about being an omegaverse alpha who could end up being utterly ruled by their cock and breeding instincts while in a rut, even turning into a full-blown rapist against their will if they aren't careful. Every stray horny thought is something that could bubble up to the surface later and reduce him to an animal who can't think about anything but rutting into the next hole that smells right, regardless of whether they want it, and cumming as deeply in them as possible, doing everything in his power to leave even a total stranger pregnant with his child.
Every time he so much as see a boy who looks cute, he thinks about the predator that's locked inside of him and what might happen if he didn't keep himself under control, and he's overcome by guilt and shame.
Guilt and shame and something else, a thread he doesn't dare pull at, because he's more than this, he has to be more than his base urges; more than the part of him that thinks about pinning down and breeding every man he comes across. More than someone who instantly perks up whenever he so much as hears the word omega, who snaps his head immediately when he catches a certain scent in the air. More than the stupid cock that hardens and instantly announces itself to the world, demanding his attention, which he staves off by hiding away somewhere to jerk off, even though his body aches to have a body beneath him.
The worst worst part is how few alphas around him seem to feel the same way about it; they're proud of being brutes, bragging about their exploits, about all the stupid whores they've left waddling around carrying their babies - some even forced - as if they aren't just the same.
Cheap sluts that give in to their breeding urges all the time, and what's worse, they leave their partners burdened with the consequences. It's the part that frightens him the most: that one little slip-up from him, one moment of chasing his pleasure above all else, could be 9 months of pain for whoever he stuck his cock inside of.
He won't do that. He won't be that. No matter how many times he visualizes and jerks off to it; no matter how much every cell in his body screams at him to lose all sense and become a beast. No matter how disappointing orgasms can feel when he's not emptying himself in a warm body.
two dicks and they’re both inside me and they’re stretching the same hole and they’re frotting inside me and it feels really good and it’s hot and messy and we’re all making out and 😵💫
what if I was a helpless bunny about to go into heat and you were a big predator and you chased me through the woods until you pinned me and mounted me and I sobbed and cried in the dirt and screamed “help, help, help!!” as my cries dissolved into moans and my pussy clenches around your big predator cock, warm and tight and aching for cum, and my little cock got so hard and twitchy. What if you growled and bit into my soft ears and marked me up while you claimed your prey and I moaned and came but you’re not going to stop until you’ve knotted me and filled my womb with your seed
Let me paint you a picture:
Panting, breathless, and almost brain dead...
Not just from the pleasure of the disproportionate, inhuman cock currently plunging through my plump hole, but from the squirming brood sapping every scrap of energy from my body. Humans were never meant to carry more than one, maybe two babies at a time, but these imps have filled me with easily a dozen.
My midsection is an almost grotesque orb that scuffs the ground, covered in stretch marks and visibly undulating, while I'm on my hands an knees, taking it from one of many of the possible fathers. Another sucks at my tender breast, encouraging production. My adventuring days are a fuzzy memory that I keep trying to claw back, but it feels like every ounce of my energy, my being, is being siphoned into my womb.
H-how long do imps gestate for again? I can't remember...
In Their Clutches
Pairing: Gender-neutral carrier ("You")/Imps
Potentially gendered vocabulary: Breast
Theme(s): NSFW, explicit sexual content, monster sex, pregnant sex, dubcon, lactation, multiple partners, multiple fetuses, hyperpregnancy, size difference
Word count: 1,019
Your body aches, every muscle straining under the staggering weight of your swollen belly. The ground beneath your hands and knees is hard, merciless and unyielding to your plight. It's uncomfortable, but you can’t move, can’t escape.
The imp behind you thrusts into your body with a force that sends tremors along your spine. The imp itself is diminutive, but his cock—thick, veiny, and bulbous in a way that's both massive and clearly inhuman—slams into you again and again. He moves with the speed of a steam-powered machine, each stroke stretching you wider and deeper than you ever thought possible.
Part of you knows that it should hurt. It should be unpleasant. But instead, your hole clenches around him, desperate and overwhelmed with the need for more, but there’s no relief. There's only the relentless rhythm of his hips slapping against yours.
You whimper, the sound tumbling over your lips as another imp latches onto your breast with its tiny mouth. Milk spills from your nipple as it sucks greedily, the feeling a strange mix of pain and pleasure as it tries to drain you dry.
Your body no longer feels like your own—it’s a vessel, a fucking incubator, and the brood inside you squirms, their tiny limbs pressing against the overtaxed walls of your womb. Your belly is never still these days, grotesquely swollen and constantly undulating. How many are in there? You try to count, but your thoughts blur and you lose count somewhere after ten, drowning in the haze of sensation.
Something about your unnatural pregnancy seems to siphon away your energy, your willpower to resist, leaving you little more than an animal desperate to be bred. And it's getting harder and harder to fight it.
There's a sharp burst of laughter from behind you, accompanied by the jeering growls and incomprehensible language of your current fiendish lover. The imp using your hole digs his claws into your hips to pull you back and plunge deeper, its rough, grating voice leaving you trembling despite the heat that engulfs you. His cock plunges into you again, the head grazing that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. It's enough to leave you gasping, your nails scraping through the dirt as your body betrays you, tightening around him, silently demanding more despite your struggles.
The imp at your breast detaches for a moment, its crimson eyes glinting as it grins up at you. It says something you can't understand, its clawed fingers teasing your other nipple, pinching and twisting at the tender flesh until you cry out.
Maybe it's better that you don't know what they're saying. It can't possibly be anything good. "You're so full," you imagine the imp sneering, gesturing at your massive, squirming belly. Or, "Maybe we’ll just keep filling you until you burst." Those imagined words send a jolt of fear and something else—something hot and electric—spiraling through you. It's enough to leave your hole clenching hungrily again, and the imp behind you groans, his pace quickening.
You cry out as talons rake down the plane of your back, the imp snarling something between his fangs. His thrusts become erratic and even more brutal, and you can feel the knobbed shaft of his cock swelling inside you as he nears his release. You scream as he slams into you one final time, crowing in victory as he floods your womb with his hot, sticky seed. It spills into you in pulse after pulse, filling your tormented form even more, leaving your belly feeling impossibly heavy, taut and stretched past its limit.
The imp at your breast laughs, a low, raspy sound that makes your skin prickle. It mutters something under its breath before crawling over to your other side to continue feeding. Its barbed tongue flicks out, lapping at the milk dripping from your nipple before it latches on again to suck even harder than before. You moan, your body quaking as another wave of pleasure-pain surges through you.
Why does this have to feel so good?
And then you feel it—another imp pressing against your hole, jabbing its cock along the edge of it in search of entry. “No!” you whimper, but your body doesn’t listen, your hips already instinctively pushing back. The imp grunts, its small hands gripping your thighs as it forces its way into you alongside the first imp. The stretch is unbearable yet still somehow blissful, and you cry out as it bottoms out inside you, its cock rubbing against the other imp’s in a way that makes your entire body shudder.
The two imps inside you move in a chaotic tandem now, their cocks grinding against each other, against your walls, jostling the offspring housed in your abused womb. You feel your spawn start to kick and thrash within you, straining skin that is already red and striped from straining to accommodate the intense internal pressure.
No more.
No more.
But the sensation is too fucking much.
You come with a choked scream, your hole clamping down around them as waves of reluctant pleasure crash over you. Yet the imps don’t stop—they keep fucking you, their inhuman cocks pistoning in and out of your abused, leaking hole until you’re left sobbing, your body wrung out but still responsive, still craving more.
And there's more to be had. Always more. Imps run in packs, after all, and the pack that captured you is far from small. It's one of the few memories you can still recall from your adventuring days that are slowly but surely fading under the constant deluge of fiendish lust.
You've lost count of how many imps have mounted you and pumped you full of their seed. Who knows how many different creatures have fathered the litter in your womb.
Lost in the sounds of grunting, cackling imps and the wet slap of skin against skin, part of you wishes you could recall how long you'll be stuck like this: lust-drunk and engorged with inhuman young.
Another part, a seductive whisper that's growing harder to ignore, wonders you why you'd want to be anything else.
Tip Jar ✨ Patreon ✨ My Pregnancy Writing ✨ Commissions
Something I find cute about cis guys is how desprate they are to fuck raw if you let them. The guy Im having over tomorrow night and I were chatting and I said something to the tune of "hey if youre more comfy with condoms I have some latex free ones we can use" after discussing my breeding kink and he said "Oh thats cute pretty boy but youre getting bred" 😵💫
Fuck I have the biggest breeding kink ever bro this ain't funny no more.
Free use whore who lays on his back and just lets me pump a load after load into his wet cunt, telling me he wants more. Eyes rolling back when I bring a hand to rub at his clit, hitting his g spot over and over untill he's just a rag doll that needs a cock inside..... Putting him into a mating press and filling him up so good that my cum is gonna be leaking out of him for days, and everytime he's gonna go stuff his fingers inside of his greedy cunt it'll still be sticky from when I bred him, n his fingers aren't enough to satisfy him because duh, he's a fucking whore, he's gonna come crawling back for more telling me how he wants me to knock him up for real and how fertile he is... God
my tdick is so fucking hard rn and my boxers are soaked and i haven’t even touched, just can’t stop thinking about warm gooey creampies filling me up and gushing straight into my boywomb load after load, my pussy feels so hot and wet and achingly empty just twitching thinking about being bred 🐇
