With all of the recent news regarding to Pressure, I have decided to not use this account or deactivate it as I do not want to associate with the game anymore. It is extremely upsetting to what is happening and I suggest you read the google docs to full understanding what’s happening.
For what I’m about to do with Zinny, I’ll be revoking her from being a Pressure OC to being my own main ocs.
Here is the post if you want to fill yourself in on whats happening:
For my old posts, I will keep it up but I won’t be using this account anymore. I hope you guys understand that and take care.
a/n: never beta read. AM RESTING GUYS PLS. also awkward doctor, i need to learn how to write him more. ALSO I TYPED THIS ON MY PHONE. so it’s a little choppy. typing on my thumbs than actually typing on a computer. it is also a lot shorter. hngh, me wondering if this is a curse haha
the cyan tent loomed. striped in a muted cyan and black… it looked like it was breathing in the evening wind. like the circus was pulsing like a rapid heartbeat. you stood there as you felt like the laughter around you sounded like screams if she listened to it wrong. you felt violated by the recognition. your memories, the ones you cherished while also mourned, was dressed in some little performance and presented in front of an audience. like someone had taken your story… their story… and hung them on a stage. lit in lights… selling tickets to tell the story that you held so dear to your heart. you stood there. everything felt so… wrong. muffled. distant… just wrong. your hands trembled. holding a pen as you started at the waiver form on the clipboard that was offered to you by a person clad in white. it was eerie. as you stared at the letters that blurred and jumbled. your hand on the pen felt so foreign in your own hands.
your friend was settling onto a bench just outside. ❝ i’ll wait here ❞ they said gently. face masked with concern. ❝ you don’t have to go in if you don’t want to ❞ they reassured you. but you have to. this unbearable feeling. and the sensation that you were being watched… somehow you were hoping for an explanation… maybe evidence that you were not going insane. as you stared at the waiver. you stared and stared. the usual language of one, however… it felt like a contract for something so much darker. like if you were going to sign it, it would possibly be a death warrant. signing meant agreeing to whatever was in there… the pen shook in your hand. ❝ no… i will go inside ❞ you finally mustered. you signed it. your signature came out wrong, wobbly. not yourself. it was like an unfamiliar scrawl. as if someone was trying to forge your own signature.
handing the clipboard back. you stepped through the canvas, into the dark. the lights were so dim that it was completely dark… hanging figures twisted in ways that made you feel sick in the stomach. you stood there, almost too scared to move your legs. then a scent hit you like a splash of water. familiar. beautiful… unsettling… too impossible to truly forget. it was the faint spice, clove? or was it cinnamon. it was faint beneath the sweetness that was reminiscent of honeysuckle. but then there were other scents that made you nauseous. the air felt sterile… but at the same time, it wasn’t. there was a scent of an attempt to clean with something ammonia based mixed with sanitiser. but it could never truly hide the lingering scent of blood. heavy. sharp. the coppery tang.
was there no end?
though as you stood there. the puppets? moved. the sound of cracking, a forceful movement of joints that made you wince. why did you expect to actually get medical attention in a circus that advertised horror? ❝ come closer, dear patient. don’t be shy ❞ the voice beckoned you closer top the chair illuminated by the red spotlight. then the dissonance of force. the eyes. god the eyes were turning towards you. all glowing cyan. just as the walk way lit up for you to approach. you wanted to turn. to say no. but you moved. approaching the towering figure. this was the closest you gotten to one of the performers. you could see how he looked. how he dressed. the plague mask which made you wonder if it was all for show or that he actually stuffed herbs inside to mask the… foul odour in this darkly lit tent. you were not sure.
❝ don’t forget to roll up your sleeves, please ❞ the doctor had spoken once more. making hairs jolt up. you were hesitant. your eyes gazed around in the room. unsure if you can stomach what you had eaten. too much was happening at once. you felt like your hands moved. slowly pulling your sleeves up. rolling the fabric up one by one, your hands trembled and shook so hard, you lost count of how much you unroll and rolled it back again. slowly feeling the seat beneath you. sitting there as the gleaming bloodied medical instruments lay on a blue cloth… you were hoping and praying that that was just some fake blood. some prop. until an incense was lit. the scent… it was something you have experienced before… the faint clove and honeysuckle was much stronger. was that…. the azalea that you were smelling? it was masking the other scents. there was almost like a floral scent… something akin to just jasmine… perhaps a hint of something tropical… it calms your nerves more than you like to admit it.
❝ you wanted to run off, didn’t you? ❞ he asked calmly. almost trying to reassure you. but it was true… you did want to run. but not in the case of running away from this tent… but running away from this entire circus that had done nothing but made you sick. the doctor took your silence as a confirmation but not aware of the many underlying reasons why you wanted to run away. ❝ it’s fine. no one really likes visiting the doctor ❞ he whispered. his gloved hands started to tie down your wrists. ❝ after all, there aren’t any secrets between the doctor and their patient, right? ❞ you started noting at the sharp points of his gloves. was this some type of cosplay? ❝ what… what are you doing? ❞ you were trying to heave through. but the incense was dulling your mind… lulling you to something nostalgic. something that had your heart slowing down. calming down. ❝ it’s part of the procedure. i don’t want you to freak out and run off ❞ he took a small pause. ❝ you could hurt yourself, you know? ❞ he pulled back after securing the ties. ❝ there are dangerous instruments in an office ❞
❝ on your file… ❞ he paused. you sat there. but the doctor was staring at the file silently. pensively as he read what was written down. what ticket taker had quickly jot down between the passing of the form between fool and doctor. ❝ it seems you are suffering from stress induced attack ❞ he finally spoke. tapping the page. ❝ a… a colleague of mine has directed you here, yes? ❞ he turned to you. you were silent. trying to listen, but you were too out of it. finding comfort in the incense that just reminded you to a time. but all you did was nod. parting your lips as you realise it was rude to not respond. ❝ yes ❞ your eyes watched as he tilt his head to the left. ❝ hmmm. don’t worry. i will be very gentle. i am your doctor. and i would examine every fibre of your being to see what is the cause of these… stressful moments, dear patient ❞
his hands moved. touching your wrist. pressing firmly against your pulse to check it. but all you did was lean to it. making the doctor slowly blink beneath. what a strange peculiar reaction. he slowly listened. counting the beats. it was slowly down. he had heard it then. when you stepped in the tent. your heart was thrumming to the roar of a drum. how your eyes darted around the tent like you were waiting for something to drop… for a body to drop. he remembered how your breathing was ragged. you were afraid. you were scared. the rushing of blood all over your body. god… it reminded him of… he paused. he stood there. it reminded him of them. but he was no delusional fool like pierrot… or was he? he leaned in, your fear tasted too much like theirs. and somehow he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you.
but worth great effort, he pulled away. clearing his throat, psychology was a little outside his field of expertise. ❝ what is troubling you so? ❞ he asked. and you, who sat there, inhaling the incense that made you rock your head a little bit. this just felt like a therapy session… but a session that was much cheaper than you could get. for a ticket, that was at least half the cost of your actual sessions. leaning against the chair. somehow you were a little too scared at the idea of exposing that you believe if you said something along the lines of speaking of the belief you witnessed a murder in the pink tent… that the second performance made you yearn and crave the touch of people you were unsure were alive and well. to the third performance that was a grotesque retelling of something so sacred to your heart… and here you were, in one tent and two more to go.
the tent was quiet. well, as quiet as being surrounded by the sounds of on goers, muffled by the thick canvas. ❝ i keep… having this dream ❞ you spoke quietly. ❝ well.. it is not like a dream…. it is more like a memory ❞ you wanted to place your hands on your lap. ❝ except it had never happened… or maybe it has happened. i don’t know ❞ no, you did know it happened. that newspaper article meant something, right? that you had experienced something… or were you trying to fool yourself. to hopefully make something make sense. your fingers traced along the groove of the chair. ❝ i am sitting with all these people… they look at me… but i know that i have to do this one thing. if i didn’t, they’ll all… ❞ you paused. you couldn’t truly finish your words. your eyes closed your eyes. ❝ one of them… they.. oh… they took initiative. and i don’t scream. i don’t even think about screaming at all. i just let it happen ❞ you slowly opened your eyes. watching as he stared at you. it was nerve wrecking with how you were not sure if he was blinking or showing an expression.
❝ sometimes… some mornings… some times after naps… i wake up and ache ❞ you whispered. ❝ at your chest? ❞ the doctor had finally spoke. but you shook your head to answer him. ❝ no. not in one place… not like i have been hurt. it’s so much deeper… it’s so raw. like somethings been pulled out of me me and i can still feel where it was clawed out ❞ you let out a shaky breath. you winced when you realised you wanted to reach to your chest. ❝ and… i am so tired ❞ you whispered. the doctor frowned, not like you can see it. ❝ perhaps some melatonin would do good rest ❞ he didn’t have the qualifications to administer actual medication. but you shook your head once more at him. ❝ it is not the sleepy kind of tired… its just tired. like i have been trying to carry something for so very long… and no one notices… no one understands. no one ever saw it happen… it was just a dream they say ❞ you laughed… however, it sounded so exhausting. it was too thin and hollow. a sound that made the doctor choose to listen longer.
❝ maybe i made it all up… maybe it’s just… ❞ you were tearing up. feeling frustrated. feeling angry at it all. ❝ i don’t know. like it was just some metaphor… for something stupid ❞ you wanted to cry. ❝ but it doesn’t feel like a metaphor. it… it feels like the truest thing that ever had happened to me… and somehow it is the most loneliest ❞ you whispered. clutching on the chair. there was some silence between the both of you and the doctor. ❝ does that make any sense? ❞ you asked in a quiet voice. your vision was completely blurry. and somehow you felt like you were talking in circles. you waited for his words. waited for what he may say. somehow you were expecting him to be like the others. the same doctors and therapist. that you had such an overactive imagination. that you were probably making everything up… that it was all dreams. that they were never real.
that it was never real in the first place.
but the doctor was quiet. ticket taker had written how you knew too much. the possibility that you were aware of what was truly happening behind closed doors. however, instead of getting an admission that you knew, instead… he was met with a dilemma. how was he supposed to approach this… how was he supposed to separate the feeling that you were someone he knew. he was silent. his hands had reached towards you. and for a moment those cyans had become red. ❝ you know… your fear… it’s just like them ❞ his hands trembled. was this the delusion that pierrot felt? his large hand cupped your cheek. his fingers were cool even through the gloves… it was not unpleasant. ❝ your heart pumping… just like theirs ❞ he leaned in. making your breath hitch there was something wrong with how the doctor was approaching this.
his hand traced along your jaw, ❝ thump… thump… thump… thump ❞ his hands moved, rose ands fell like a metronome that he had memorised its rhythm. it was right. exactly right… too right. the heart beat that he had remembered with precision of something that he spent a very very long time listening to. while his other hand had held a syringe, it was quick. swift. a movement to prick and get you to calm yourself. ❝ the fear… oh the same fear… you wear it so beautiful, dear patient. i can smell it on you like i smelled it on them ❞ his hands returned back to your cheek. thumb tracing the curve of your cheek to your cheekbone. ❝ and your pupils…. ❞ he leaned closer. ❝ blown wide. just like theirs. looking at you now… i could almost pretend… ❞ his voice cracked. not with some emotion but it was something else. his hand paused. his thumb had stopped moving.
❝ that you… are them ❞
he pulled away. ❝ but they are dead… no they still belong to us… belong to us who loved them to pieces… all the pieces ❞ he paused. ❝ fufu ❞ he laughed a little bit. ❝ i like you ❞ he spoke. before he had miraculously pulled a ticket. a cyan ticket. a special ticket. you were a little dizzy. watching as he had untied the bounds around your wrist. your gaze was staring at the ticket. there was no looming foreboding. ❝ what is this? ❞ you asked as he handed the ticket. his eyes were back to one of cyans. ❝ ale— ❞ you stared as you opened your mouth. until the white clad fool opened the entrance. almost like it was trying to relay information from someone else. ❝ hmm. i guess we would have to cut our appointments short… but i do hope you use my ticket, my dear dear patient ❞
however one thing remained on his mind… ale— what were you going to say?
Warnings: reader has a cock (otherwise no gender specified), (kinda) mean reader, top reader fucking bottom character, milking, breeding, orgasm denial, nipple play, sex toys, dacryphilia
One of your cows isn’t producing the minimum amount of milk required of him anymore… there seems to be some kind of problem?
Word count: ~2k
Running a farm sure is difficult. You had to wake up early everyday and get lots of physical work done. Not only that, you also had to care for all of your hybrid animals, each with their own individual needs and problems. You did hire employees to help lessen your workload, but there were still things only the owner can solve. Like today, having to deal with the mystery of one of your best cows producing results atypical of him.
“Ahhn— ahnnghh~ ♡ mmHghff, n-not so roughhhh..!! T-too much too g-guuud ♥︎♡” He mewled, nails digging into his own thighs as he whimpered around the stretch. His knees were raised up to his chest and your cock already bottomed out inside him, causing him to kick his legs futilely. It’s been so long since he last had someone else play around with him in the hay like this. Just the tip alone was enough to make his eyes roll back, his mind all fuzzy with pleasure.
Now with the entire thing inside, his couldn’t hold back his voice anymore, “ahh.. ah—ahNgh, ha,,uuhNnh~ b-big, so biiig ♡ so deep~ h-hurts~!!♡♥︎♡” At this rate, he could swear you were fucking his stomach, reaching places he only gets to experience with you. No matter what he moaned out, he couldn’t fool no one with that big, stupid grin plastered across his face. “You are kind of pissing me off.” For some reason, you felt like you were being played by him. “Spread yourself wider.”
He did as you said, using his hands to hold his legs apart, faint red lines appearing from where he gripped too hard. The hay below was digging into his back and getting into his hair, yet he didn’t care one bit. He couldn’t think of anything but you right now, not when his lovely, favourite farm owner was personally showering him with so much love! You don’t even know how long he’s been waiting to get manhandled by you again.
And fuck, he wasn’t just imagining it, he could totally see the belly bulge apparing and disappearing from his lower abdomen with each thrust. “mhhHffgg~ r-right there, ahhNn～ I-I’ll do anything, so pleassee!! Ha-harder, more, gimme all of it~♥︎” Someday, he was going to make you snap. “Don’t get cocky. I wouldn’t be here fucking your desperate self if you weren’t acting like some bitch in heat.” You snapped at him. That’s right, you were supposed to investigate his milking problem, but the upper half and not his lower, stupid half.
It’s not like you didn’t try solving it in a civil manner first. At first all you did was asking if anything happened or if he felt sick, while he was using the milking machine as per procedure. He replied no to each and every one of the questions, yet only produced a quarter of what he usually did, so it’s understandable that you got concerned.
“Maybe… it’s because of the machine?” That cow hybrid suggested upon your inquiry, gently pulling the pumps off of himself and holding his squishy tits with both hands. It was obvious that these got bigger over the course of the last few days. “Are you saying we should try hand milking?” You wondered, and he nodded quickly. You even felt like his eyes lit up for a split second. So you decided to give it a shot, since you did start off in the traditional way first and just recently adapted the more modern method.
You then quickly proceeded with the experiment and began tracing your fingers around his areola. After a few circles, you pinched his nubs softly with two fingers, trying out the flow. Nothing much happened apart from the low, breathy gasps coming from the male, which was why you began pulling and twisting a little. But once you started doing that, he just immediately moaned out, “aAaHnngg~♥︎♡♥︎ mMhnnh— uHhn,, huUhmff ♡”
After having his nipples sucked by the machine for so long, they were already super sensitive. Then to have his favourite caretaker the one he really really liked ♡ hand milking him again? Who could blame him for getting hard! By then he was already leaking precum onto the hay below. Your fingers were just so skilful, so much more intimate and warm than any device could ever hope to replicate. He just adored having your hands on him. “G-gentle… nghhHgg, l-love it~~ mhmm~! ♥︎”
He glanced down at the spot between his legs, a small puddle of precum already forming there. “I-I can’t help it…! It feels too good when you touch them.” Seeing that the wrong part of him was getting milked dry, you felt this realisation clicking inside, “did you suggest the hand milking just to get off? Don’t you know I have other things that needs to be done too?” The boy stayed quiet for a bit, before smiling sheepishly, noticing your hands were still on his nipples, “nnhhGahhh-ahnn!!♡♡ ha-haaa,, maybe…?”
Needless to say you were at your wits end with him, which is what got you into your current situation. With you holding his waist while slamming your hips against his, lewd squelching sounds echoing through the barn. “You know, this is how you get real cows to produce milk. By breeding them.” You whispered, his walls squeezing your length all snuggly. “Will it work for you too? Though I’m starting to think you were faking it all for attention.”
The way you stared down at him gave him chills. Oh how he loved it when you frowned at the sight of him, your eyes focused on him only. His words were slurred as he babbled with his tongue lolled out, “n-noo, no..!! M’wasnt, i r-really couldnt~ nGhhn ♥︎” look at that, he was thoroughly enjoying himself, wasn’t he?
“So, you are telling me you didn’t see this coming?” He didn’t answer, but his body revealed everything you needed to know. “Cheeky bastard.” You sighed and pulled out until only the tip remained inside, before slamming it all back in, making him curl his toes. “GuuUhhGnn~♡♥︎♡ ah-HnnGh—!!“ His moans turned into a whine when you abruptly grabbed him by the chin, “Since you’ve got so much time on your hands, fix that milking problem.”
“Yuu are sho… mhmm..!!! sho mean…!” He gasped out while you were still squeezing his cheeks. His hands finally released his now bruised thighs and landed on his nipples, his legs wrapping around your waist. The spot where he gripped them before has been decorated with a bunch of red nail-indents. “Ha-haaahh~ like this?” You did let go of him the moment he fulfilled your command.
Unsurprisingly, he kept smirking while he rolled his nips between his digits, licking his lips as his own sweet milk flowed down his wrists. The entire barn smelled of sex and warm, fresh milk. “hey… isn’t this suuuuch a-ahh~ waste?” He brought one of his soiled hand up to his mouth and sucked his own fingers clean, sticking his tongue out afterwards, “you want to make money with this, no? Heh… nghh ♡ So we shouldn’t waste it…!”
He was actually hoping for you to touch him yourself again, but to his dismay, you instead handed him the pumps of the milking machine, forcing him to reapply them to his own chest. “You think I’m that stupid? I won’t fall for the same trick twice.” You raised his hips up a little, getting a better angle before pounding into him even deeper, with surprisingly quicker thrusts. “AhNghhn ♥︎♡ d-don’t stop, ahhh so guuud, too good mghhnnff, m’love you, love this, right t-there ♡♡♡!”
You were hitting his sweet spots with the accuracy of someone who knows how to play his body like an instrument. The way you abused all his favourite places, rolling your hips with each rut into his sloppy hole…? It was simply heavenly ♥︎ his moans bounced off the thin wooden walls of the stable, echoing back at him, though he didn’t care at all. He was getting the privilege of being fucked by you, why would he be ashamed of that~?
Even the low humming of the milking machine was like music to his ears, the soft pressure of the suction pumps constantly stimulating his chest. His body was like on fire. Wherever you touched, heat would blossom beneath his skin. His vision was swimming, brain melting from the absolutely overwhelming ecstasy. It was to be expected that he’d sooner or later reach his limit.
“I’m close… ah~ I’m c-close, hnNhh, gunna cum, m’cummin’~♥︎♡!!— ah, n-nooo!” Right before he could shoot it all out, you wrapped your hand around his neglected cock and pressed your thumb into his slit firmly, denying him his much anticipated climax, “don’t you dare cum before I do. I’m not done breeding you yet.” “Wa— n-no…! L-lemme cum, I wanna— ah, ahNhhhgg, uHHhn!!!”
With that being said, poor thing was forced to endure the ruined orgasm and deal with the consequences of his actions. Shudders coursed through his spine as he cried out with each thrust, pleading so, so so so sweetly for his release. But you stayed firm the whole time, saying you were only going to let go of his now weeping cock once you’ve emptied your load inside him.
This time, you were going to fill him up until he learns how to behave. It didn’t stop him from trying his shot by begging even more submissively though. “P-please… cum already… b-breed me, fill me♥︎ hnNgh, like you said…!! I-I can’t anymore, m’wanna cum, ahh please~♡♡♥︎”
Gradually, you approached your own limit. He’s been getting really good at squeezing around you, shaking his own hips in a poor attempt to speed things up. You took a glance at the machine, then back at him. It seems your little ‘breeding therapy’ bared fruits, there was so much more milk coming out of his tits now. It was filling the tanks up all nicely. The same couldnt be said about his face though. With tears, sweat and snot running down his chin, his eyes glazed over and pleasure-ridden— even his pupils turned into little hearts♥︎!
One of his hands was just shy of grabbing your wrist, the other one clutching at anything within reach. His body was shaking heavily, his breath hitching audibly when you suddenly quickened your pace and mumbled, “fuck… I’m close.” Shortly after you also finally let go of his swollen dick. The shade was an angry red as it leaked precum everywhere, twitching with a mind of it’s own as he whimpered, “y-yes, yes…!, finally, ah- ahnGhh I-i’ve been wa- ah— waiting, gonna cummm ♥︎♡♥︎ f-fuck me harder, Nghh~ deeper, fill me up with your babies ♡♥︎♡”
Soon enough, both of you tipped over the edge. With you filling him to the brim, making his belly distend even more, and him making a mess everywhere. His head thrown back, eyes rolling until only the whites remained, thick ropes of cum coming out of his still jerking cock, splattering everywhere. “MhHmghhn~~ ♡♥︎” he bit down on his inner cheek, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue as he heaved heavily. Chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
You also took a moment to catch your breath, before pulling out of him with a quiet pop. The moment you left him empty and wanting, your cum began spilling from his entrance and dripped down his ass in an undeniably erotic display. His hole fluttered and clenched around nothing, small whines of residual bliss slipping past his lips from time to time. You couldnt help but chuckle at the debauched display, mocking him, “so that’s why you couldn’t produce any milk… it’s because you are such a slut that you need a dick to perform.”
After fixing yourself up until you were presentable again, you stuffed a plug vibrator inside him, to keep your seed trapped inside him. Then you turned it on to the max level alongside the pumping machine, since his breasts were carrying the milk from multiple weeks. This earned you a meek sob from the cow hybrid, but he was way too tired to even argue! All he could do was lay still while letting himself be milked like a good, obedient cow ♡
He still had so much more left until dry anyway, so it wouldn’t be a problem to set the timer to a few hours, no?
The AMA: "Harlequin was always more suspicious and took a while to calm down around Pierrot"
My suspiciously autistic braincell: So like a nervous flea
I made this illustration in collaboration with @春醴记工作室 Studio!
I never imagined seeing so much love and so many beautiful artworks celebrating Pierrot’s birthday! I’m truly delighted!
I also made another fun one as an extra little tribute haha!
By the way, some of you may have seen the earlier post where the symbol on Pierrot’s left arm had the wrong color. That was completely my fault, sorry about that hehe. I was so excited that I let that slip by!
Thank you all so much for the messages for Pierrot!
