hello there, world ！ this is my hornyposting sideblog (I follow from astraniaaurum).
first, I'm going to kick off this blog's introduction by saying you can call me H. just H, nothing else. I am a 30 year old heavily self labeled queer (bisexual & genderfluid) who goes by they/she/he, has autism, bipolar disorder, bpd, and is in a long distance t4t relationship.
next, I'm laying down a few ground rules in order to get this blog up and running properly:
✧ conservatives, zionists, transphobes, homophobes, etc., fuck all the way off and stay away. this will NOT be a space in which you are welcome.
✧ you MUST be 18+ to follow me on this blog. if I receive a follow from you, and you either don't have an age listed or AT LEAST a description of something along the lines of mentioning that you are an adult, or I am given reason to suspect you may be a minor, I will block you. because:
✧ this blog WILL have explicit and mature content. namely horny posting, occasional monsterfucker fantasies/shenanigans, nsfw writing and poetry, nsfw reblogs, and the like.
✧ while you will occasionally see me making my own horny posts on here, this will in all honestly mostly entail just horny rambling. rarely will I ever post lewds, unless I'm absolutely feeling myself.
✧ unless you're my partner, you do not get to call me baby, babe, darling, princess, good girl, whore, or slut. (despite the url handle, I am actually not that comfortable with anyone outside of him calling me by the last two. if you don't like or respect this, you can cry and die mad about it.)
✧ my ask box will always be open to inquiries and comments. you may give compliments, and ask me about my preferences on kinks, and the like, but I will not ever be open to unsolicited pictures, requests, or flirting.
✧ this blog will be running on a queue most of the time.
✧ I will update this post as I think of more details & rules to come (ha), but in the meantime welcome, and please feel free to enjoy your stay. 💋 ❌ ⭕ 💋
✧ below the cut is a following list of all my kinks, fetishes, and preferences:
general:
aphrodisiacs
A / B / O
begging
belly bulge
biting
breeding
bruises / hickies
bloodplay
claiming / marking
cunnilingus
dirty talk
dub-con
edging
face sitting
fingering / finger fucking
frottage / grinding / rutting
knife play
masturbation
monsterfucking
oral fixation
pet names
praise kink
size kink (slight)
teasing
vibrators
watching porn
types of sex:
mirror sex
phone sex
sexting
sleepy sex (and by extension of this; consensual somnophilia)
BDSM:
aftercare
bondage (light)
collaring - private
handcuffs
kink negotiations
kneeling
leashes
pet play
riding crops
safewords
sensory play
spanking
traffic light system
wax play
Huge abomination of a monster laying on top of me after taking five full hours of slowly working their fat, thick cock into my small human pussy. All that work to have me whimpering and squirming underneath them while they cuddle me in their many limbs and praise me until we both take a well deserved nap. And then when I wake up, they give me a big kiss while playing with my clit, and after I cum for them they gently cradle me against their soft belly while their limbs hold me close before they go about their day. Leaving me a little mess of myself as I’m stuck cockwarming them for as long as they want, only able to whimper and whine as they cuddle me through every orgasm, purposefully lifting me up and down their girthy shaft so they can feel my walls squeezing the life out of them in front of its tribe. Flustered and bashful as I get undying praise and worship from other monsters alike, getting rubbed, groped and kissed everywhere as I sit on my monster’s cock. A pretty little human girl that needs the direction and attention of scary beasts in the woods.
Also, not much of a prompt because hnnn brain empty BUT big, big monster? just- able to cradle the tiny human in their hands and barely fit them on their cock? not quite understanding this kissing thing but well they've got a nice long tongue, they might as well use it- maybe to prep the human for their cock?? or just because the human tastes so good? and their tongue is big enough to just reach from thigh to chest in one sweep??
sorry,,,, head empty,, but big monster
your blog is just so good, I'm big fan kskskdj
(g/t mode ACTIVATE)
Transmasc human X dragon
Content warnings: somno, dubcon, mentions of noncon, extreme size difference, a frankly irresponsible amount of tongue
There are so many reasons I love to hold you while you sleep.
The way the curve of your body fits the hollow of my palm as though you were made for it. Your warmth on my cool skin. And there, my favourite- that hitch in the slow, regular press of your breathing as you sigh and rock your hips slightly. What are you dreaming about, little one? Something pleasurable, I hope.
I am not overly concerned with the pleasure of humans, as a rule. I'm hardly even interested in their safety. Even now, your little rabbit-heart twitches wake the impulse in me to treat you as carelessly as my other, hardier toys. I want to stuff your body into my mouth feet first, as much as will fit without immediately breaking a limb, grip you in my teeth and rut into my blankets as you struggle to escape, the heady, coppery taste of your fear-scent coursing through me with every breath in. The thought floods my stomach with heat and my mouth with saliva.
I can't do that to you, though. Not you, who reads aloud from books too small for me to study for myself, who burnishes my horns and claws and takes such loving care around the cuticle, who never wakes when I cradle them in their sleep, who works their hands elbow-deep in my slit until I am writhing and whining and wet. What power, little thing, that you wield over something so much bigger and much, much hungrier than yourself.
No. I could never hurt you. But I can have my fun in other ways.
Carefully, I lay you on your bed, one of my pillows, and tease at your collar with one claw. You won't thank me for this later, but then again, it's not my fault you insist on these fiddly little buttons, even in your nightclothes. I slice the fabric in one motion, neck to ankle, and lay you bare. You moan a little at the cool breeze and try to roll over, but no, that won't do. I want you open for me. Stay there, let me nudge your legs apart. There we are.
I rest my head below you on the pillow and uncurl my tongue. The first salt-skin taste of you is too much and I have to pause and swallow hard, or else make a fool of myself by drooling everywhere. Bad enough that I should do that in my sleep and you should tease me for it. Bad enough that I should care.
The second taste is easier. One limb of my split tongue slides across the soft expanse of your belly, over your chest, and curls around the back of your neck. The other presses against your groin and slides beneath you to wrap around your hips. The motion trails the taste of your dream-lust against my tongue- familiar, intoxicating and nowhere near enough.
Now you're settled in the fork of my tongue, slick, warm flesh pressed from your clit to the small of your back. You fumble for me, already beginning to grind your hips, and nuzzle your face against me with a hum of satisfaction. I can feel your little heart beating, your breathing deepen.
My cock is already achingly full, pressed hard against my belly. I rock my hips in time with yours against the fabrics of my nest while you buck and cling to me. Trapped as you are, you can do little more than rub the engorged nub of your clit back and forth, well and truly slick as much from yourself as from me. You once accused me of producing some kind of aphrodisiac in my spit, or deliberately coating my tongue in it when you weren't looking. I laughed harder than I had in years when I realised you meant it.
Every thrust builds the arch your back, until, with a broken cry, you come and the spark of it leaps from your body to mine- but misses. I'm left on the edge, keening with the pain of disappointed lust, and you shudder and exhale, and go limp.
I let you lie there, kneading my claws in frustration as the tension ebbs away without release. I am aching, the edges of my slit sensitive from too much rubbing fabric, but I'm reluctant to lose the pressure I still have.
Your touch makes me jump, pulling me out of my own irritation. You're awake- or at least, only just more awake than asleep. Your palms find the tip of my snout, fingers curling over the hard ridge of a jutting scale, and adorably, you pull. You haven't a hope of moving me by yourself. I follow your prompting, and move my head close enough for you to plant kiss after kiss on the bridge of my nose. Then you shove down, trying to force me back again but succeeding only in sliding yourself back along my tongue for a moment, legs kicking as you whine your disappointment. You've only just come and already you want more. Greedy little thing. I've always loved how your appetite matches mine.
I scoop you in my palm again, roll onto my back, and push you down against the tip of my cock. Pinned as you are against the curve of my belly, you still spread your legs and lift your hips, rutting desperately against my head. I rake my claws along my length, shoving myself against you with every stroke. I can feel you clenching fruitlessly around nothing in your frantic hunger for me.
There's no way I could fit, no matter how willing you are. Even if I could find any purchase, I'd only tear you in half. But fantasy of it, the thought of somehow, impossibly, forcing my way inside of you, filling you beyond anything you could bear, wrapped tight and walls working around me, the thick swell of me bulging your stomach and then when I came, oh fuck-
I don't mean to crush the breath from you. I tell you this as you sit grumpily nursing your bruised ribs, drenched and sticky and very put out. I nose close to you, one hand cupped around you to stop you from wriggling away as I lick you clean (I've never minded the taste of myself, still less when there's the taste and feel of you there beneath it). It's not my fault that you're so perfect, so perfect to hold my cock in every way but one. And you're so eager for me every time. Don't deny it, I can smell you getting wet again at the thought. Trust me, I would fuck myself on you endlessly if I could. As it is...
The tip of one fork of my tongue just about fits into you, if I can stand a little pinching from your fingers as you help it along- which I can. You want to stay cross with me, I know, but your sulking melts away as you fill yourself with me. I'm content to watch you for now, and lazily stroke myself as I listen to your moans and taste your slick arousal. I'll let you tire yourself out, little thing, let you fuck yourself into a stupor on me, and then, when you're limp and sated and as good as unconscious, maybe I'll take you between my teeth after all.
Forced to be a professional cuddler for an orc village, but… you get to cockwarm them for hours and hours and if you’re extremely good they let you bounce on their cock till you cum, then they get to breed you as slowly as they want. Making you remember all of your customers not by name, but how they helped rewire your brain to collect your payments in either gold dabloons or deep creampies. Ultimately you can’t get pregnant by them, but that doesn’t mean your womb can’t hold gallons on gallons of thick, buttery, creamy cum. Your descending belly scaring you at first but ultimately becoming your main source of pride and joy as you carry yourself tall and proud while your belly is completely swollen and rounded out by enough orc cum to look heavily pregnant with quadruplets. But that doesn’t bother your customers, if anything, it brings you even more orcs, revenue, cuddles, and of course, more slow, lazy nights of getting cuddlefucked in the coziest positions. There’s no surprise when you’re slowly bred awake, positioned into a deep mating press as they eagerly blame you for causing extremely severe morning wood, and you take on the blame with pride and joy as they paint your womb milky white before serving you a hearty breakfast, so you can wobble off to your next cockwarming session- wait- cuddle. Cuddle session…
