they Absolutely do yeah. to great consequence. in dense fairy polulated areas its rare to meet a spider who hasnt had a fairy-in-its-web event before. but it generally means they get to do whatever they want with the fairy so for them its not that bad :)
big scary spider lady who likes wrapping up little fairies into beautiful intricate webs and can get a bit rough if her art is ruined (in a loving way, she's vegan)
craving a good fuck doggy style so bad. i wanna be holding a poor boy up by his hips, body limp in my arms, face down and sobbing into the mattress. hand on his stomach, feeling the bulge of my strap, my other hand on the back of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair. his little “ah, ah, ah”s would be slightly muffled by the mattress, but im happy to trade his pretty sounds for such an incredible view
do people like tops who whimper whine growl groan pant etc. just super noisy, so drunk on fucking their bottom that they can't control the noises they're making
covering its halo with tin foil because "we need total darkness for the movie" and it spends the whole movie disoriented and wobbling back and forth unable to keep track of what's going on but that's fine because the watching experience was slightly better
the difference is it's actually historically progressive for demon girls to torment angel girls. the halo in your belt loop means you're basically free use to me.
i love that you can easily find videos on youtube of people grabbing birds and gently but intentionally holding their wings and showing off various feathers and angles and anatomy details. pervert world, for me.
when master punishes me everything else melts away. it's just what i've done and what i owe for the trespass, and master's hand to enforce it. it places its palm on my cheek to line up its hit and my body knows it's about to be held accountable for its mistake. my mind goes blank. the slap hurts in a way that doesn't feel good and sexy like other pain does. it makes my eyes tear up, my chest tighten. and then it cradles my face, and i thank it for keeping me in line, kiss its fingers. it doesn't soften, no, it's cold and mean, sometimes it's angry. the cruel attention is more intimate, more stripped bare than gratuitous pity and praise would be. why shouldn't it be angry? i disobeyed. i need correction. it's so deeply satisfying to pay penance. i feel so grateful and happy
the other day i was feeling really sad and tired, but i needed to be punished, and i thought about asking to take the punishment some other time. but i knew it would feel good to submit even though i wasn't feeling well, so i took it. and it made me a little upset for a moment, but then i felt so proud and grateful, and master was very proud of me too. and now i think back on the fact that i took a slap in the face on top of feeling miserable because i'm just that whipped and i get hard
my victim's "I freely consented to all of this!" t-shirt has people asking a lot of questions already answered by the shirt that it can't answer because of the gag.
To the base. Wearing your thighs like earrings so all I hear is the steady beat of your heart. The only warning you're about to empty down my throat is the way your fingers tighten in my hair and hips start grinding into my lips.
Don't worry if you need to get a little rough. I promise I can take it. Don't you think I'd be so cute looking up at you with tears clouding my eyes? My shirt stained from the strings of drool dripping down my chin, my lips swollen from how hard you've been rutting into them, quivering as I wait for you to decide what you'd like to do to me next.
Captor making me look in the mirror at all of the scars and bruises she gave me >>>
Trying not to sob as I realize ill likely never fully recover from the damage she did while she coos, pulling my hair to force me to keep looking.
"Look at yourself, pretty thing, look at yourself and tell me you're not mine."
"Thaaaats it, cry for me. No one else can do this to you, no one else gets to see you like this."
She let's go and my sobbing intensifies as I shield my eyes, refusing to willingly look at myself in this state. I lose track of how long I was left there but it certainly wasn't much time at all, and because before I know it she's rubbing herself against me. I weakly attempted to protest this, only to be met with more cooing
"It's your fault for crying so pretty, how do you expect me to hold myself back when you whine like that?"
cw: cnc/dubcon, kidnapping kink, forced drugs, crying, somnophilia, gangbang, mindfuck, extreme fearplay // content is strictly fantasy
we've talked before, about surprises. we've had fun with them before — i like the thrill, and you like the look on my face when i realize that oh, we're doing this today. we always negotiate those kinds of scenes for a long while beforehand, but we both agreed that you get to decide the when.
and usually it's my fantasies you're indulging: like when i woke up, shocked and sleepy, my holes unmistakably used; when i was tied to the bed, blindfolded, and you let people i’ll never know come in and toy with me; when you even smashed my window once, middle of the night, just to give me that sweet stab of terror before i realized it was you breaking in to pin me down — yeah. those were all mine.
the day you indulged one of your own, i didn't even know i'd be seeing you.
you said you were visiting family. there was a video you sent me of you and your baby cousin running in the park. i remember, because that's the last thing i was looking at before i felt the cloth clamping over my nose, the drug knocking me out.
the next time i woke i was somewhere else. blindfolded, tied up, chest tightening with panic, thinking: was this you?
you said you were out of town.
i could hear the footsteps. it had to be you. right?
really, try and surprise me, i'd laughed. do your worst.
god, i really, really fucking needed it to be you.
i almost whimpered when i realized the hands that landed on me were still gloved, unrecognizable. i did whimper when those hands pulled my legs open. i think i started begging when the hands started groping me without a word, cutting off my clothes; i started asking who it was when fingers forced its way inside me, finding me already slick and leaking; i started crying when i didn't get an answer, only spit in my hole.
it was your name i sobbed out as i was fucked; if that was still a question, a cry for help, a desperate wish, or a plea, i couldn't say. and then, as i was pulled closer: your low laugh against my neck. your kiss on my nose, familiar. i don't think i knew a sense of safety could flood my mind as strongly as fear until then: the relief intense as i arched into you, as you fucked me, as i came.
and your laughter, again, as it ended, our breaths mingling, and then, your lovely, lovely, perfect voice: hi. sweetheart.