Not today Justin
#extradirty
occasionally subtle
The Stonewall Inn
RMH
trying on a metaphor
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
YOU ARE THE REASON
d e v o n
NASA
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
icyghini twinkie
No title available
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Stranger Things
The Bowery Presents
Claire Keane
Discoholic 🪩
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia
seen from Canada
seen from Indonesia
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from Ireland
seen from Germany
seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
@magic-after-dark
See so many girls talking about intox but what about the domme getting drunk? A sleazy, older dyke, preying on you. You can easily smell the alcohol on her breath, almost burned into her skin. She's too far gone to be able to listen to your mewling pleas to stop when her hands start wandering. Muttering in your ear that you wanted this when you feel her groping your tits.
For thousands of years humanity has selectively bred chickens to have larger breasts and to have to lay eggs constantly. We did it to get more meat and per chicken, but from the perspective of the domesticated chickens they’re sorta living in a very specific fetish scenario
The first tags I see on this are absolutely inspired. Incredible pervert lesbian website.
"just let it happen" is one of the hottest things you can say during sex
it’s very cute when the trans girl has long hair that obscures her own vision.
Hypnotizing a transfem into not being afraid of needles so she can do her estrogen injections more easily.
Those key lock ports on some laptops are like chastity cages for people statistically already probably wearing chastity cages (trans women and businessmen)
“dragons aren’t real” wrong! they exist and we are friends on tumblr
Actual ways to flirt with me:
● "Shut up, mutt."
● "Down, girl."
● Yank on my collar/leash
● "Stupid mutt."
● "Dogs don't talk."
● "Aw, it thinks it's people. We should fix that."
● "Heel."
● Honestly just call me "mutt," "dog," or "bitch," it's almost guaranteed to get a favorable reaction. Bonus points if you also add "pathetic" or "stupid" to the mix.
weird combination it is to be sad and horny
You fool, assuming I'm a dog girl just because I'm trans. I'm a cat girl, the classic, the original. If you tell me what to do I'm gonna lay down and stare at you. If you tell me I'm a good girl my claws are going in your face
You may leave it near me and I'll deign to investigate when it pleases me.
This is allowed. Perhaps I'll let you brush me later.
Shit hang on I gotta look into this
Sun-kissed 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
transfem who really wants to be put into an instant loss situation: it’s basically impossible to defeat me…
Egg-laying hips
It started small. Undergarments taken away for washing were replaced with slightly frillier, slightly less covering undergarments. Strange, but perhaps this was simply a new style. Nobody would see them anyway.
Meals began to be served personally by the head maid, rather than the pair that it was typically assigned to. Occasionally, there was a slight flavor that was ever so off, but the chefs were adamant that the supply of ingredients was the best available, and the head maid even offered to personally test the meals upon delivery. It brought peace of mind, but the taste remained. Eventually, it was easy to get used to it.
The bigger changes were when the young royal started to feel concern. Every morning, the silhouette in the mirror was ever so slightly different, but the changes were adding up. Clearer skin, rounder hips, a chest that looked... fuller?
Many of the maids had started to take notice, though few said anything. But more began to change. Hair no longer styled as it once was. Undergarments that were almost undeniably a woman's. The latter was welcomed, begrudgingly - the head maid pointed out the necessity, now that the young lord's chest was starting to be noticeable through clothing. Occasionally, "my lady" was spoken in error, before being hurriedly corrected with profuse apology.
A maid dress was mixed into the washed garments, one day. At first, the young royal considered calling for the maids. But standing in the mirror, noticing the figure that reflected back, more like a young lady than a prince, curiosity won out.
It fit perfectly, as though it had been tailor made for precisely this purpose. Watching with fascination as the maid in the mirror moved to the lord's command, a hand slipped under the maid's petticoat, and the prince watched with fascination as this woman exposed herself, touched herself for an unseen audience, the image of a perfect maiden except for a reminder between her legs that it was not, in fact, just another of the servants of the manor.
The head maid chose this moment to, for the first time in her career, enter unannounced. Silence filled the room, the absence of girlish moans suddenly processed by the young lord, nowhere to be seen in the mirror.
The door was shut before anything could be said. The maid dress was removed hastily, tossed into a far corner of the room. An indignant speech was prepared for when next the maid was seen, warning her that her career, if not her life itself, was forfeit, were she to speak of this to anyone.
The following morning, the head maid arrived to dress the young royal, and the prepared speech evaporated. A new set of undergarments, more brazenly effeminate than the last, were slid on with less protest than there should have been, and a noblewoman's dress followed. The head maid gathered a number of clothes and left without a word, and the prince did not leave their bedroom that day, nor did another maid ever enter, save for the head maid.
When, in the coming morning, the entirety of the wardrobe had been cleared out and replaced, there was again no protest, and the noble was dressed again in silence. When the head maid wished a good morning to "my lady" on the way out, the princess did not object.
Some of y'all are too confident about princess posting when The Dragon is in the area. You know what those vile beasts DO to princesses like you, right?
lesbian sex but you're a supervillain and you strap the hero's girlfriend to a table to perform evil and dangerous experiments on her while the hero watches on a comically large and evil screen but it turns out they're both into it.
The Necromistress appreciates your rightful praise but is far too busy plotting world domination to respond to your adulation personally
