Hey guys! I'm technically non-binary but kinda a trans guy who uses they/them. I'm 18, and you can call me puppy!
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@dearlordy
Hey guys! I'm technically non-binary but kinda a trans guy who uses they/them. I'm 18, and you can call me puppy!
"Shh."
mm. belly.
read the whole series on: bsky | patreon | substar
Eyes on me 🖤
source
consensual somnophilia is like a surprise party. you’ve talked to your partner about what you like and they know what you would and wouldn’t want, and then all that’s left is to fall asleep one night not knowing they’re planning anything for you, but then you slowly wake up and surprise! you don’t know how long they’ve been fingering you but you feel amazing and you’re comfy and sleepy and someone you love is making you feel so good.
ok I'm constantly reblogging horny stuff (thanks testosterone) but all I really want is a soft make out session
I wish i had another transmasc on T to watch porn with i wanna watch gooner slop on my shitty lap top in bed while we stroke our little dicks and finger our cunts till the room stinks LOL
yeah hucklerobby is guilty x guilty 2 me but for wildly different reasons.
robby stroking over dennis's stomach as he gently eases inside, groaning fuuuck, baby, this is so wrong... as his hips press flush to dennis, dick buried in his pretty little intern, wrapped in perfect lube-slick heat. he knows he's sick for it, knows he's an old pervert, but he couldn't help himself.
his self-control flew out the window with dennis— young, adorable, eager dennis— blinking up at him like he hung the moon. it was just so easy to get the kid in his bed... fuck, he's sick, knew the kid wouldn't say no. knew his dennis— jesus, already thinking of the boy as his— would never deny him. he's so fucked, and he knows it, he knows it, but den feels so good, moans so pretty, opens up so easily for him to carve a space inside.
dennis whimpering, tears blurring his vision, trickling down flushed cheeks as he clutches desperately to robby for stability, to ground himself. it makes it better and worse, the closeness, knowing that it's robby. he's letting a man touch him, lay with him, fuck him. it twists something in his chest even as pleasure pools in his gut, throbs at the base of his spine.
he whimpers little sorry, sorry, m'sorry—'s, compulsive repentance, hiccuping with every thrust, feeling robby so deep, in his stomach. it makes him sick, it makes him dizzy, makes him feel so fucking good. too good. too good when it's wrong, when it's sin, when it's everything he's tried his entire life to avoid.
robby pumping him full and dennis cumming over his stomach, untouched. both men panting and quiet, wanting it so bad, wanting more, wanting it again in the morning, again in the night, and the morning after that, and the day after that. knowing it's wrong. dennis is so young. knowing it's wrong. god condemns it.
yum <3
“take it like a fuckin’ man,” robby grunts the cruel words as he thrusts his hips like an animal. his thick erection pushes into dennis’ tight asshole, tearing him in half. dennis’ cunt cries out, clenching around nothing as his other hole grates in discomfort.
dennis bites his bottom lip, but can’t help the girlish whines that come from deep down in his chest. his cheeks flush from embarrassment as robby’s rough fingertips find his throbbing clit.
robby growls, nipping dennis’ ear with his teeth, “cum for me, denny. cum on my cock.”
he whines, “i can’t.” the pain in his ass so brutal it denies him an orgasm. fat tears pour out his eyes as he bounces back against robby’s hips.
robby continues working his clit. “stop crying. y’know this is how men have sex. they get fucked in the ass. isn’t that what you wanted, hm?”
“nooo- not like this.” dennis can’t believe what he’s hearing.
robby pulls back, balancing the tip of his dick in dennis’ clenched asshole, the tight hole forming itself around robby’s bright pink head. "so pathetic, denny. can't even cum for me. what kinda man are you, huh?"
dennis sobs, "m'sorry, i'm so sorry, p-please." he braces himself for what he knows is coming, unable to stop his blubbering wails as robby bucks forward, slamming himself back into dennis' frail body.
“aughh- it’s t-too much,” dennis howls, arching his back, pain shooting up his spine. his asshole is raw and abused, burning as robby fucks into him relentlessly, ignoring how the young boy writhes on the mattress.
robby speaks through gritted teeth, “shutthefuckup- take it, take it, take it.” as he releases his load, filling him up with his white thick strands. he slows down, rolling his hips as he milks himself using dennis' soft hole, pumping his remains and allowing them to leak out, coating both of the men's trembling thighs in his slick mess.
dennis is basically a service dog when robby has a panic attack. he sees it coming from a mile away, notices the tension in robby's shoulders, how he starts to snap at staff, a hand going to the back of his head and petting or rubbing, self-soothing. desperate to keep it together.
he's quick to slip his fingers into robby's and ignore the older man's protests, dragging him into a quiet room, sitting him down. he curls himself into robby's lap, soft and warm and weighted, grounding and safe. dennis guides robby's hand to his soft curls, and slumps against him, breathing purposefully slow so robby will unconciously start to match it.
and they stay there, for a few minutes. robby's hand loses its tremor as he pets over dennis's hair, his body slowly relaxing as the warmth of dennis seeps into him. robby stops petting for a moment to slide his arms fully around dennis's waist, hugging him close, letting out a shuddering sigh as his face buries in blond curls. he takes slow, deep breaths of dennis's gentle scent, cradling his boy close.
once robby is fully calmed, dennis asks a careful better? and robby hums, drops a kiss to the top of his head. mumbles better, whispers I love you.
in september, dennis was starving. not just for food, for everything.
yes, he was hungry. he’d been having to ration strictly this week. the food pantry on campus hadn’t had its thanksgiving pity bump.
but he was starving for air. he’d been wearing this binder too long, and he felt like he couldn’t get a full breath. suffocating on his own had become his normal.
he was starving for touch. it had been so long since he’d been hugged. robby had been touching his neck and shoulders, but going up to the eighth floor every night after his shifts seemed to wash those away, even if he hadn’t had a real shower in who knows how long. (dennis remembered. it was last thursday when he snuck in behind someone at the campus gym. that had been five days ago.)
dennis couldn’t afford tape. he couldn’t afford a nicer binder. he couldn’t even afford fucking food that wasn’t charity. dennis was starving.
then robby found him.
he just…appeared. appeared in the doorway of the dilapidated wing and took dennis’s burdens as his own. opened his home to this stray with an incomprehensible past.
and dennis was no longer hungry. robby fed him. and just kept feeding him. he made dennis’s dinners and packed his lunches and had him drink a gross meal replacement drink for breakfast when he said real food made him nauseous that early.
dennis didn’t even know men like robby knew what transtape was, but it was there one day at the foot of his bed. (dennis had a bed now! with sheets that were clean!) robby had put it on a subscription. dennis always had some. his ribs didn’t feel like they were poking his lungs anymore.
and he touched dennis. not in a bad, dirty way. in a way that made dennis feel warm and held. he let dennis lean on him when he was tired and brought dennis into his chest when he’d had a hard day.
dennis had so little. dennis was starving. and then, because of robby, he suddenly wasn’t.
Lunch by Halie Torris
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Originally shared by PunkandCannonballer on r/ImaginaryLesbians on May 17th, 2026 at 5:11 PM UTC.
i’ve been feeling so wound up. my cunt is all tight and sensitive. i was dripping in the waiting room, aching for relief. i’ll take whatever you suggest. i can take anything you give.
you can help me, can’t you, doctor? it would be a shame if your title went to waste. i wouldn’t leave you without proper payment, either. i’m sure there’s a way for me to satisfy you in return.
- 🕸️
I see. Well, don't worry, love. I think I know exactly what's going on. Excessive sexual arousing is actually a pretty common thing, and fortunately, you're not in any danger. But it could have a disastrous impact on your well-being and on your self esteem, so I take this condition very seriously.
Before examination, I will just give you a light sedative. It's going to induce relaxation, and you might feel like you're floating - it's a good thing. It will wear off by the time we're done.
Lay back on the table. Open your legs and set your feet on the stirrups. Rest your head back, and try to stay relaxed for me. I'll start by inspecting that unusual wetness you mentioned.
Oh.
No, it's okay - just as I expected. Your entrance is extremely sensitive, and the vaginal discharge is quite abundant. See, when I gently spread your folds, your reaction is immediate. And as soon as I tease your entrance with the tip of my finger - oh, you poor thing. You're in a great deal of frustration... It's alright. We're going to make it all better.
What about the area above your entrance? Do you feel an unusual hardness, perhaps?
🩺💉🐶 Let's pursue this examination, shall we?
Your eyes are all heavy and wet, your head lolling to the side on the examination table. Your thighs are wide open, feet secured in medical straps. But it's not like you could go anywhere anyway: the drug is making your head all fuzzy.
"You're okay, pup, you can take a little nap if you want," you hear from somewhere between your legs. The voice is gentle, caring, with a hint of professional stiffness that makes you feel extremely safe.
But even if you feel extremely drowsy, you're not sure you could sleep. Your little cock is painfully hard, and your holes are throbbing with want. It's been too long...and like the nice doctor said, puppies have needs.
Suddenly, there's a warm and wet feeling around your cock. Something small, like those toys you like to hump, is sucking it with force. You whine and squirm, but your mouth is filled with cotton.
"Don't try to speak," the voice orders gently as the toy pumps your dick faster. "It's a standard procedure. We're gonna give that puppy cock what it needs, okay buddy? Just relax."
It's been too long and the succion is too strong. You try to buck your hips forward but you can't feel your legs. You blink sluggishly, unsure if you want to protest or to ask for more... The orgasm builds steadily and almost sneaks up on you, making your whole body twitch.
"Good job, very good," the nice doctor praises. "That's the first one. You're being a very brave pup, buddy. We're gonna take care of those holes now, okay?"
You faintly remember something - something about your owner being the only one allowed to touch your holes. You frown, squirming a bit on the table, but it's like your limbs aren't connected to your brain anymore. You feel something cold and thick coating your butthole.
"This one seems particularly neglected," the doctor sighs. He sounds sorry for you, maybe even a bit sad. "Poor little one. Don't worry, I'll make it all better."
The intrusion is sudden and deep. You jerk your head from side to side, unable to see what's happening between your legs. But the sensation is unmistakeable: there's something thin and long in your butt. It's well lubed, so it doesn't hurt, but... Your owner wouldn't like it. Not at all.
Then, the vibration comes.
Your walls shake and tremble as the new toy drills into you, sending waves of pleasure in your spine. The doctor pushes the toy deeper and angles it, hitting a spot you didn't know was there. You pant heavily, tongue sticking out, drooling all over your chin.
"There you go, good puppy. You're taking it very well. I'm going to ask you to come again for me, so be a good boy and do what the doctor says. Come for me."
It shouldn't be that easy to come. But somehow, here you are, already clenching around the toy, the vibrating hitting that sweet spot - a long raspy moan escapes your mouth as you come again.
The doctor chuckles softly.
"Well done, pet. Now, the third one."
Nothing comes yet. There's the faint sound of a buckle, and ruffling of fabric. Then there's a weight on top of you. Your head is angled to the side, mouth still drooling, and now you can't feel your face or your neck.
You can only feel the tingle of someone's breath on your cheek, and the warmness of something teasing your dripping entrance.
basically,