-Im Dirk, though you should call me slut or whore or something else degrading cause thats all Im good for!
-Dni if you're under 18 or cishet
-Im Transmasc and Genderqueer, my pronouns are it/he. I am a boy, Do not misgender me, you will be blocked.
-I'm a year or so on T, I'm pre-top and no-op for bottom surgery. Those are my tits in my icon lol
-I have a boycunt/cunt or hole, a dick, and tits / a chest. Please don't use any other words for my body
-Im primarily a sub, and mostly a bottom though I do service top on occasion (slowly learning how to dom in a way that I like, for my wonderful switchy partner)
-I'm currently considering doing some sort of content creation, I'll let you know if that ever happens
-Send asks! Send DMs! 💙Call me mean things and force me to send you nudes💙
a lotta hard kinks! CNC of all types, kidnapping, free use, gore/guro, monsterfucking, incest (especially sibling or mother/child), petplay (Im a kitty!), objectification/dehumanization, object insertion. Treat me like your personal sex doll!
-Limits (you can interact if you post these, but do not mention them in my inbox/on my posts):
Detrans/Misgendering!! Scat, Diapers, ED/feeder/anything with food, misogyny, TPE
Princess of the kingdom is so demanding, it's rather tiresome. Every time she would pass by me in the hallways she would find something to complain about. "Why isn't your shield polished? You dishonor my family crest." Or "Why aren't you wearing your helmet today, are you putting me in danger."
But the worst of it all is if i ever talk back or correct her on something she acts all offended and storms away frustrated because I'm apparently being disrespectful the the heir.
Other knights always think i am doomed, that every time i have a fight with the princess she tells her father, the King and he is gonna send me to the dungeon.
But instead of that every time we fight, my princess asks for me to guard her room that night. And before the midnight comes, i am already inside her room, laying on her bed, with her on top of me, putting her hands around my throat as she rides me hastily, taking her frustration with my lack of diligence and manners out on my body.
By the time she lets it all out, i prove to be a good knight and reassure her it's okay for her to get frustrated. Loving and pleasing my demanding Princesses for the rest of the night before leaving her to sleep and going back to my duty.
God I love being obedient so so much, Mama (@livingdead-gxrl) asks for pictures in such a stern/order-like way, and it always immediately makes me want to obey. Submission in the form of obedience comes so naturally to me, even in my real life I do so much better with clear instructions. Not having to guess what I'm supposed to do, knowing exactly what the correct next step is.
And it makes me feel so so good. Both the pride at knowing I'm being good and the satisfaction of knowing I'm making someone else feel good. I love service, both domestic and sexual, being helpful, it's definitely one of my purposes in life, making others lives easier or better, by providing whatever they need and ask me too.
Tonight Mommy asked for a picture of my asshole, and I instinctively asked them to keep ordering me around tonight, took a second to think about it, and realized I really was craving it, and they've really come through for me <3 They asked me to tie my legs in a mermaid tie, eventually wanting to see rope mark pictures later this evening. The tie feels so good, I was able to do it tighter/more secure than I ever had before, and it feels so so good, not painful but constantly there, unable to spread my legs even an inch from each other. Then they had me look at my saved nudes of them while jerking myself off, for the entire 25 minutes of their show episode. The tie made it so I could only touch my dick, not at all my hole (which is filled with my egg), so I spent 25 whole minutes with fingers on my dick, looking at their bulge and tits and jerking off videos, wishing I was there with them, sucking them off or fucking them or groping their tits. My dick was so red and the tiniest bit sore at the end, it felt so so good physically. I could also hear their episode a little but over the phone call, which gave a little bit of a '"mommy's giving me orders to keep me busy" or "I'm such a whore, jerking off waiting for Mommy to be done with their show" vibe, that felt really good, being ignored sometimes rubs me the wrong way, but this time it didn't at all.
We've discussed in the future doing occasional service/maid days (based on a recent watch of The Duke of Burgundy), and on those days where they're ordering me around I'd like them to order me to
Kneel next to them whenever I'm not completing another task
Cockwarm for the duration of a show or movie that they're watching, or a task at their desk
Make and bring them food and water
Allow them to piss in either my mouth or ass everytime they need it (I've been specifically fantasizing all week about them doing this in a single-toilet bathroom while out in public)
Possibly be a footstool or table for a cup of tea or something (not certain I'll like this outside of a fantasy, I only think about it very occasionally)
Put on a show for them jerking off or fucking my holes while they watch or just to occupy me while they finish up another task
Similarly, just to fill time or put on a show, instructing me to find a non-toy object around the house that could fit into my cunt but it just barely, and every time I pick something that fits I get a hard slap and told to try again
Bathe them and tie a harness for them, then dress them and put their makeup on, ideally with individual orders like "first my panties. Then my skirt. Now my top. Now my socks."
Being ordered to put myself away 'in my toy box' whenever they don't have any tasks, then being called to come out when they have something else for me to do
make me talk about my day while your fingers are sliding in and out of me, telling me you’ll stop if i don’t keep going and teasing me when all i can do is moan
Talking to my baby about how I want them to send me a video of them jerking off later, and got to thinking
Daddy coming to ask his daughter is she wants to do something together for the evening, coming into the hallway, seeing their door cracked just a bit open, and hearing soft moans coming out. He freezes, knowing he should turn around, but,,, the door, it must be open for a reason? No, no, it was just an accident, they wouldn't want him tiptoeing down the hall, positioning himself where he can just see a sliver of their body through the door, but that's what he does anyway. The bed faces the wall next to the door, and he's peeking in just enough to see their legs, their arm moving, and maybe just maybe a little bit of their cock. He feels hims tdick twich, knows his hole must be getting slick, and feels his stomach turn, a father should never see his daughter like this! But not only is he watching, he's Wishing. Wishing they were thinking about him, wishing they had left the door open on purpose, wishing that they wanted him to push it the rest of the way open and enter. But he knew they didn't, knew he couldn't. He stayed right there, watching until they came, then tiptoed back down the hall to his own room, hands already unbuttoning his pants.
His baby girl panted on the bed, arms and legs splayed wide, sad he hadn't come in as they'd obviously been baiting him to do, but at least glad he'd gotten a good long look, hopeful he'd commit next time
Waking my doll up one morning, earlier than they normally get up for work. Telling them I have an extra special outfit picked out for them today. They follow me over to the mirror where I always lay out their clothes, to see only their highest necked sweater and a pair of jeans. They look at me with questioning eyes, usually when I say ‘extra special outfit’ I mean something terribly slutty, something that will get them stares all day long. I point out the sharpie on the top of the pile, and begin to remove the dressing gown I allow them to wear as pajamas. My doll stands perfectly still for me, looking at themself in the mirror, as I spend the next 30 minutes covering their body in writing. SLUT, WHORE, DOLL, SEXTOY, DADDY’S, BEAUTIFUL, BELOVED, MINE, and more, repeated over and over, covering every inch of skin that the clothes will cover. I dress them, lifting their arms to put the sleeves on, lifting each foot to step into the pants. And I send my doll on their way, out to work, their entire body a reminder of who exactly they belong to. Once they return home, the clothes are taken off, and they spend the evening naked admiring all the writing, they even ask for some that have started rubbing off to be rewritten. They stay marked with my writing for many days, all the way until we plan to go see our *friends*. They ask for the marks to be removed, but I don't allow it ‘why just yesterday you asked me to refresh them! All my hard work keeping them looking nice all week, and now you want them removed? No, they’ll be staying, and our friends will be seeing them.” I dress them up once again in an extra special outfit, properly slutty this time, covering little more than a bikini. I graciously allow them to cover themself with a long coat for the walk over to our friends’ house, but the coat comes off the second we’re through the door. Our friends ooh and aah over how gorgeous their body looks covered in my hand writing, and tease you by running their hands over it, calling you all of the names I’ve marked you with. They blush, and try to hide and cover the words, but there’s too many of them, they cover so much skin it's futile. By the time we leave, they’ve been covered in so much sweat, their own and the rest of ours, that the words are smeared and unreadable. I take my doll home, and we shower. I kindly but firmly scrub every last trace of the writing off of their skin, wanting my doll back in mint condition, not a single flaw in their perfect complexion.
Its early one evening and the two of us hadn't had any leads of any other vamps in some time. As a reward for a good night's work, we settle in to enjoy ourselves without worries of you being on the hunt or me putting together any reports. I sit, lounging across our loveseat and looking at some magazine, one you subscribed to a long time ago before we met. I've worked through the various piles of them with small fascinations.
I have a small feeling you've kept the subscription for this reason and also because their content contains various kink garments and tips for Bottoming like the Good Sub You Are! What a hogwash idea, to willingly just submit without some fight. If your Dom wants it, they should put you in your place! Already feeling a little rebellious, I pretend to not hear when you snap for me to come over. Hilarious, since I know you're aware of my preternatural senses, but I continue the act. Even as I hear your boots click the tile, I keep eye contact on the image of a lovely man being deliciously tortured. Much to consider.
You force me to give my attention when the magazine is snatched from my hand, and I face you with a pout. "What do you want?" I bark. SLAP. There he is. I cross my arms over my chest, artificially propping up my tits. "I know you can hear me, my Prince. Now, why won't you answer?"
"Oh, I was just engrossed in that article, plus you couldn't have said anything too important." You look at me like a parent with a child who just drew on the walls. I love it. It's so clear you wanted me to listen. "I said, I would like if you sat on my lap while we read. However, now-" you look towards the discarded magazine, "I want your full attention."
I pretend to turn the thought in my mind. Of course, I want to do whatever you're about to tell me, but it's much more fun to have you make me. Eventually, I start to lean back to communicate how comfy I am, as well as how little I care for what you want. It's clear what you'll do, so easy to read. I practically lean forward when you reach to pull me off by the collar. It chokes me so well, and to be fair you've kept anemic where I cannot stop from you moving me any way.
As I am dragged naked across the tile, my anticipation builds when you sit in your chair and lift me to your thigh. From your belt, my leash is attached to the collar and you pull my face closer. "Ride, Brat, or I pull out the gloves."
I rub my cock, now leaking and hardening, against the leather pantleg. Already panting, I make myself look away until you make me commit to eye contact. After an hour of this, my bottom builds with need and I know you're going to torture the climax out of me. Soon, you order, "Cum for me, Brat." The dribbles of my bloody cum fall across your leg. More than last time which means I might be adjusting to our drink schedule. You don't me move as we make out for a long period.
You gave me a night of free reign, exploring the city as I wish. On the condition of conducting my own hunt, of course. When I return, which you trust I will do, my clothes are torn and covered in various filth. As I leave a trail into our home, the sound of you in the bathroom is clear with water running.
I appear in the doorway like a shadow and fall to my knees from my coming exhaustion that follows the rising sun. "Poor thing, got yourself all tuckered out?" you ask, dressed in your nightgown.
Nodding, the grime mixed with the blood and sweat left awful streaks against my face. "Twelve. I dusted twelve more. For you," I say with a dizzy smile on my face. I try to kiss you and before we make contact, you put a finger against my lips to stop me.
"In the tub, I would like to make sure my pet is clean." You pull the remains of my clothes off, stuffed away into a nearby hamper. Dragging calloused fingers against my soiled tits and plump ass, I shiver slightly as you lead me to the tub.
The water is warm. Not that my undead flesh gives any heat. The purity of the water is disrupted as the dried blood and dirt melts from my skin. With a bath pitcher, you wet the rest of my body. I hug my legs to my chest, listening when you order me to stand or lift up certain body parts. Lathering soap into my skin and hair, my exhaustion fades into something more comfortable.
As my eyes drift me a touch closer to slumber, I feel a kiss get planted on my lips. "It's time to dry off, my Prince." Standing from the tub, I patiently let each limb get patted off, and my clean robe returned to me. You lift me and return my body to coffin, making sure I'm comfy and secure.
The Hunter had come home from his hunt angry, he'd killed that monster but not before it had killed the human it had been keeping around to feed on. Seeing the inverse of his and his Prince's dynamic reminded him how tight of a leash he needed to keep on his dear pet, and failing to save someone made him want to take revenge on his Prince, for being the kind of creature who could do that.
His Prince was lounging about on the couch reading a book when he got home, wearing their house robe (untied of course), their collar, and the butt plug that they rarely got permission to remove. He threw his kit down, slammed the door shut, and started stomping the few steps towards the couch.
"Up."
"Well, well, you're in a mood this evening aren't yo-"
The Hunter cut them off, grabbing their hair, and pulling them off the couch. The Prince gasped at the pain in their scalp, and landed on the floor on their knees. The Hunter gave them a quick slap across the face, and barked an order: "Quiet. And follow."
He turned, and made his way to the bedroom, trusting his pet to obey. They do, standing up and following, hands behind their back, head bowed, knowing they will be punished tonight. Not for their own misbehavior, but for the crimes of their kind, and simply because their Hunter wants to hurt them.
They step inside the Hunter's bedroom, uncertain if they are wanted in here, or in the further chamber, where the Hunter is currently gathering supplies. They take off their robe to busy their worried hands, as they drop it their Hunter calls: "In here, Brat"
They quickly follow, stepping into the secret room which was once solely the Hunter's gear room, but which now doubles as a play room. There's more than one kind of tool you might not want company to see. The Hunter has picked out a double set of cuffs, and is standing next to the spanking bench. He snaps, points, doesn't say a word, but the Prince knows what they're being instructed to do. They mount the bench, face down, one arm and leg on each lower bar, and torso laid along the taller middle one. Their Hunter begins binding them in place, with cuffs on each wrist and ankle. As he does, he tells the Prince what's happened already tonight, and what's about to happen.
"That monster killed him. That man she had kidnapped, that was how we found her? Killed him before I got there, less than an hour before. Did she know I was coming? Or just got tired of torturing the poor fellow? Either way, I couldn't save him, We didn't save him. We've got to be quicker and quieter with our research and recon. And you've got to take your punishment for a failed mission, understood?"
"Yes, Sir" the Prince replied quietly. They did feel bad hearing that they'd been too slow to save the man.
"I'm going to give you 30 strikes each, with as many implements as I see fit. You're going to count them for each implement. When you lose count, we will start that implement over. You will say thank you when we finish an implement."
"Yes, Sir. Thank You Sir."
"You're welcome, my dear Prince. Let's begin."
He started a bit easy, with a plain flogger. They moved through quite a few implements, a leather paddle, multiple belts (studded and plain), wooden paddles of different sizes, a ruler, a whip, a crop, a cane, the Hunters open hand, 30 hits with every single one of them. The Prince counted every one of them, messing up only once, when the Hunter tricked them by following hit 29 of a wooden paddle with hit 1 of the cane.
The Hunter swung hard, and after over 300 strikes, the Princes ass and thighs were Gorgeous, a bright red with purple bruises already blooming. Their face was streaked with tears.
"Almost done, Prince. Just the gloves left."
The Prince shivered and released another sob, the gloves were worse than anything else they'd experienced tonight. They had threads of pure silver, not diluted like the crucifix on their collar, pure silver woven into the fabric, like copper in compression wear. On human skin it might have only been a little scratchy, but on the Prince's delicate vampire skin? It burned and cut and left them bleeding.
"Yes Sir" they whispered.
The Hunter's hand came down for the first strike, and the Prince properly screamed for the first time that night. The Prince counted, and the Hunter continued, hand coming away bloody with every strike. When they finally reached 30, the Prince was sobbing continuously, 'thank you's falling from their lips over and over through the tears. The Hunter took the gloves off, and set them aside, making a note to make the Prince clean them later, tomorrow though, they'd earned at least that much. He comes around to their front, sits down in front of them, kisses their forehead, and pets their hair as comfort, as he lets them cry. Eventually the sobs quiet down, tears still flowing down their cheeks.
"You've done well so far, dear Prince. I have one more punishment to ask of you."
"Anything, Sir"
"So willing, such a good girl for me. But I don't think you've learned your lesson. I think you need a reminder of why I keep you around. You are here, alive as my pet, because you help me to kill other Vampires. Any affection I feel for you, any want I have to cure you, to make you better, is secondary to your use as a tool."
"I remember, Sir."
The Hunter had been particularly affectionate of late, and while the Prince hadn't intended to slack on their duties gathering information, they supposed it was time for a reminder of their place.
"Good. I'm going to carve a reminder into your back, and you're going to apologize after every letter"
As the Hunter spoke, he stood up, crossed the room and picked out a knife, a pretty one with roses on the handle. He climbed up onto the bench, straddling the Prince's lower back. He put his blade to the skin across the Prince's shoulders, carving a B. He picked his blade up, and waited for the Prince to catch their breath from the new different pain.
"I- I'm sorry, Sir" the Prince forced out.
"Sorry for what?"
"I'm sorry for forgetting my role"
"Good"
The Hunter carved out an E, and again waited for the Prince to speak.
"I'm sorry for forgetting my role, Sir."
"Hm, you've already apologized for that. What else?"
"I- I'm sorry we weren't able to save that human"
"Good"
The Hunter carved an A this time.
"I'm sorry the vampire got away."
"Good"
Next an S. The Prince took longer this time, either distracted by the pain, or deciding what to apologize for, the Hunter thought.
"I'm sorry I forgot who owns me."
"Very good. Last one Brat, you know what to say this time."
The blade came down two final times, carving the final T.
"I'm sorry for being a vampire!"
"Good Girl! You've learned your lesson I think."
The Hunter climbs off the Prince, puts the blade away, and begins uncuffing them. He helps them sit up, but gestures for them to stay at the bench. He walks away and returns with a cock, fairly large, but the Prince has had enough practice that this one should be easy for them.
"Stand, and bend over the bench for just a minute"
The Prince complies, mustering up the strength to wiggle their ass just a little. The Hunter lubes the new cock up, removes the plug the Prince keeps in at most all times, and inserts the cock, ignoring the Prince's gasp as the stretch.
"Now my Brat Prince, we're going to go back out to the couch, I'm going to read over the information you've gathered today, and you're going to kneel with me, and think about the lessons you've learned."
"Of course, dear Hunter"
He leads them out to the living room, sits on the couch, spreads his legs for them to kneel between, and begins reading the papers left on the table for him. The Prince kneels in their spot, and places their head on his thigh. Closing their eyes they feel the thick cock in their ass, the bruises already blooming to their deepest blue, and the cuts across their shoulders and ass already scabbing over. They know any trace of this evening will be gone by this time tomorrow. They stay like this for a long time, the Hunter reading their reports, the Prince thinking of the Hunter, and weighing the pros and cons of failing again just to earn this treatment again. They decide against it, but they do consider it. Finally, the Hunter puts the final paper down, and looks down to the Prince.
"You've done so well for me darling, come here" he says, pulling the Prince up onto the couch and onto his lap. He holds their face in his hands, and peppers kisses all over, "Thank you, I feel much better."
"Of course love. Now, will you please fuck me with this cock? I need you"
"Hehe, of course love. Go get me my strap" he says, with one final slap on their ass.
(For context, last time I saw my partner, we ended up wrestling/fighting about which was going to happen first: partner fisting me or fucking me. They ended up fucking my face while I tried to stop them, until they came, and then I got my fisting later in the afternoon. It was wonderful, the kind of cnc that we do occasionally that I love love love! But I was jerking off earlier today and thought of it going a different way...)
We had discussed that I would be getting fisted today, and I want it now! We've got a bit of downtime before we've got to go out and do something, and if it doesn't happen now, it won't happen until after dinner, nearly bedtime! Maybe I misjudged the effect my teasing touches would have, or maybe my love is just being a brat, but either way, now they're making moves to fuck me, and I know their recovery period, we won't have time for both right now. So we fight about it, wrestle about it, they pull my head down to their crotch and get a few thrusts into my mouth, before I myself off, and look up at them, "uh uh uh" like they're a child trying to have dessert before dinner. They slap me, and pull me back down while I'm reeling. We cycle this a couple of times, before they finally throw me off, onto the bed beside them. "Fine!" they say, "you win! Ass up." They hop up from the bed, headed for the lube drawer. I don't notice that they haven't actually said 'I'll fist you', I'm too excited to have won, and that they remembered that I had asked earlier to be fisted from behind, so I comply, pulling over a pillow to lay my face on, and positioning my ass a little higher in the air than I normally would to be fucked. They finally return, not only with the lube, but with a glove (strange, they must have a cut on their hand that hadn't mentioned, we usually don't use those when they fist my cunt), and a condom. This tips me off, and I start to ask why they've brought it, and they cut me off: "you want me to fist your cunt because you want me to hurt you, right?" They're putting on the condom as they say this, then pick up the glove. "Well I'm not really in the mood to fist you, I'm in the mood to fuck you, so why don't I just fuck you somewhere it hurts?" I put the dots together and start to sit up, but they just lean forward, putting their elbows on my shoulder blades and their stomach on my back, holding me down effectively, all the while pouring out lube onto their gloved hand. I start begging "please Mama, don't, I don't want you to fuck my ass, the fisting hurts so good, and my ass hurts so bad! Please no Mama!" They keep one hand on my back so all I can do is wiggle and kick, not actually get away, as they quickly insert one and then two fingers into me, cooing at me to "relax, relax, it'll hurt less baby", soundly ignoring my actual pleas. They pull the two fingers out, it's really not any less prep than I usually give myself, but I'm upset and clenching and it's done nothing to calm me. But they start fucking my ass anyway, leaning forward to put both hands on my back after guiding their way in.
You toss me a sealed blood bag. Not unusual, just a touch rare for my feeding. It tends to be an extra reward for good behavior when you haven't quite regained the blood from last feeding. I tear off the protective cap and suck the crimson without restraint.
As I stand to kiss you when I'm finished, I realize part of your design with my knees immediately going weak. You hold my shoulders as the drugged blood makes my head dizzy. "That's my girl-thing," you whisper and lift the short skirt you force me to wear. Gripping my cock, only to bring my sensations forward and I start grinding against your hand.
"Sir, what-" you push me down on my back and continue to grope me, kiss me. As the drugs push me further, I'm practically catatonic and loving every second of helplessness.
Push me to my knees, hold my face in your hands. I'm tired. Look at me with all your warmth, kiss me. Tongue and biting, swapping spit.
Leash my collar, pull me to the bed. Kiss my tits, my stomach, my thighs, my neck. Make it clear how much you desire me, make me yours. Punish me, hit me. Cum in me and with me. Impregnate me and I'll be in love.
