I wanna be forced to the ground and fucked. I want to barely have even processed what is happening by the time they began to destroy my ass. I want them to hit me and force me down harder when I try to resist as they take what is theirs. After all if they cum inside me then my useless cocksleeve of a body is theirs right?
in the mood to rape a helpless little thing until all the fight's been pounded out of it & all that's left is a limp body & a listless gaze into some far off corner of the room. in the mood to find out what its reaction is if that's when i decide to take my condom off.
it is important that a captive pet has its energy needs tended to in a way that prioritizes humiliation.
feeding times are ideally at regular intervals twice a day. this structures a pet's daily routine and sets expectation. the routine may be changed to disorient and upset the pet to profound effect.
the food itself should be minimalistic and bland. it is already receiving stimuli during the feeding; it does not need more from the food itself. food that keeps the pet easy to internally clean is also sought after. start with grains and supplemented protein, see what works for each individual pet and adapt as needed.
the only fluids offered should be plain water, electrolyte drinks, or ensure. any open containers of water are a hazard and should be removed, though human sized hamster bottles are practical and helpful to ensure a pet gets enough fluids (note: do not put any dairy products in these).
its diet should provide full nutritional needs but can be adapted at the keeper's discretion if they desire the pet to be smaller, to lose muscle mass, or put on weight for ease of handling or aesthetic.
serve the pet its meal in a dog bowl. do not let it off its leash. do not offer it utensils. optimally, prevent it from using its hands to assist eating (via restraints if necessary). if it makes a mess, then all the better (it can always be cleaned to keep it presentable).
occasionally, a pet will try to decline food as a kind of protest, similarly to how it may attempt to harm itself in other ways [4]. it is important that the keeper does not rise to this challenge. it must be fed at least once every week. if it attempts to refuse food for longer periods, a warning may be issued before the keeper must commence force feeding where the pet is restrained and food is forced down its throat by hand or tube. likewise, a pet should not go longer than two days without water before being forced to consume fluids either by holding its head in a bowl of shallow water (if it does not drink, it drowns), via tube or via IV. the scope of a pet being kept alive via tubes is beyond this section, and will be discussed in detail later in the manual. often, these experiences will traumatize the pet into either complying out of fear or becoming dependent on force feeding and the keeper should be prepared to adapt.
The Clearing. You’ve known about the place for months. A friend of a friend mentioned it at a party, half-laughing, as if she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. A spot in the woods outside town. Girls go there, she said, and men know to look for them. It’s not official. It’s not like there’s a signup sheet. You just go and wait for the worst to happen.
You laughed too. Called it a ghost story that suburban kids make up because they don’t have anything real to be afraid of.
Still, it stuck with you.
You went home that night and searched for it. Found a forum, then another, then a rabbit hole of firsthand accounts that made your face hot and your panties wet. Girls describing what happened to them in that clearing. How they walked in nervous and walked out ruined. That they didn’t see faces and didn’t exchange names. Hands just grabbed them from behind before they even heard footsteps.
At this point you’ve read every account at least twice. Some of them you’ve read while touching yourself, cumming with your hand over your mouth, imagining it was you on your knees in the dirt with a stranger’s cock down your throat.
You’d never go yourself. You’re not the kind of girl who does things like that. You’re careful. Cautious. Always double-checking that you locked the door. Texting your friends when you get home safe. You don’t walk into the woods alone and wait to be taken by men you’ve never met.
Even if you can’t stop thinking about it.
About going somewhere and giving up control completely. Skipping all of the awkward "so what are you into?" conversations, and getting straight to someone grabbing you by the throat. Being used so thoroughly until there’s nothing left of you but raw sensation.
You finally go.
Just to have a look and see if it’s real. To satiate your curiosity. And you can always turn around and run if things get out of hand. That’s what you tell yourself.
You park at the trailhead as the sun starts to drop. The directions from the forum are specific, and you’ve read so many stories you basically know the way by heart. The woods are quiet. Golden light filtering through the leaves.
As you get closer to the point of no return, you remind yourself yet again that you could go back. You could go home and make dinner and watch porn and touch yourself to the fantasy instead of the reality. Just stay the girl you’ve always been.
But all those tiny reassurances feel hollow compared to the excitement of finally being here. Of a world opening up to you as the tree line thins out.
You step into the clearing.
It’s smaller than you imagined. A rough circle of grass surrounded by trees, private and enclosed. Late sunlight slants through the branches. It’s almost peaceful.
You stand in the center and wait.
Nothing happens. Five minutes. Ten. You start to feel foolish. The whole thing was probably made up. Some elaborate fiction for lonely people to jerk off to. You’re about to leave when you hear it.
Footstep behind you. Not on the trail, they’re coming through the trees.
You freeze, a scared doe that’s forgotten how to run, standing perfectly still, fists clenched at your sides, heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears.
The footsteps stop. He’s close. You can feel him there, just behind you.
"You came here on purpose?"
You nod. It’s all you can manage in the moment.
"You know what happens to girls who come here."
Another nod. Your legs are shaking.
A hand fists in your hair. Yanks your head back. You gasp, and then his mouth is at your ear.
"Then get on your knees."
You drop. Leaves and twigs pressing into your skin through your jeans. He keeps his grip on your hair, keeps your head pulled back at that sharp angle, and you still haven’t seen his face. Not that you’d look if you could. Even you know better than to make a mistake like that.
"Hands behind your back"
You comply. He lets go of your hair long enough to grab your wrists, and you hear a zip tie ratchet tight around them. Your pulse spikes. It’s actually happening. You’re in the woods with a stranger and your hands are bound and you’re so wet you can feel it soaking through your panties.
He comes around in front of you. You keep your eyes down. See his boots, his jeans, his hand working his belt open. He’s stroking himself slowly, already hard, and you watch as his cock dangles in front of your face.
"I own you until I cum. So open up, slut."
You open your mouth. He feeds himself in without ceremony, one hand gripping the back of your head, pushing deep enough that you gag. He holds you there. Your eyes water. Your throat spasms. Saliva pools around his shaft and drips down your chin.
"Breathe through your nose."
You try. It’s hard to think. His cock is thick and hot and alive in your mouth and all you can do is take it, let him use your throat.
He fucks your face with no tenderness at all. Long strokes that make you choke, that leave you gasping each time he pulls back. You’re drooling. Crying a little. Your arms ache from being pinned behind you. You wonder if he’ll ever finish. If you’ll be trapped here forever.
When he finally pulls out you gasp for air, chest heaving, and he’s already hauling you up by the arm, spinning you around, bending you over a fallen oak. Your cheek presses into rough bark. His hands yank your jeans down, your underwear, and then his fingers are sliding through the wet mess between your legs.
"Soaked," he says. Almost to himself. "Knew you would be. You sluts always are."
He pushes two fingers inside you. You cry out, hips jerking, cunt clenching around the intrusion. He fingers you roughly, carelessly, like he’s testing your limits. Finding out how much you can take.
"It’s usually the eager whores like you that end up here."
He says it with a laugh as his fingers withdraw and then the head of his cock is pressing against you, pushing in, stretching you open around him. He bottoms out in one long stroke and starts fucking you like you’re nothing, like your only purpose is to be a warm place for him to empty himself.
Your bound hands chafe against your lower back. The bark bites into your cheek and breasts. He’s gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you back onto his cock with each thrust, and you’re making sounds you’ve never heard yourself make. Animal sounds. Desperate, wordless begging.
You cum without warning, your whole body seizing around him. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down. Just keeps pounding into you through the spasms, through the second orgasm that builds right on top of the first.
"One more," he says. "Give me one more and I’ll fill you up."
You shake your head. You can’t. You’re too sensitive and raw and broken.
"Yes you can."
His hand snakes around, finds your clit, starts rubbing in tight circles while he fucks you. The pleasure is almost painful. Too much. You’re crying now, really crying, tears and snot and drool smearing all over
"Come on. Give me what I want. Be a good whore."
The third orgasm rips through as if it had claws, and you feel him slam deep and hold there, feel his cock pump ropes inside you, feel the hot rush of him filling you up just like he promised.
He pulls out slowly. You feel his cum leak down your thigh. He cuts the zip tie, and your arms fall to your sides, numb and tingling.
You hear his belt buckle, his footsteps retreating back into the trees. And then you’re alone in the clearing, bent over with your jeans around your knees and your cunt full of a stranger’s cum.
Your mind is quiet for the first time. Like someone reached into your head and turned off the noise that’s been buzzing there for years.
You pull up your jeans slowly. Wipe your face with the back of your hand. Your legs are unsteady as you make your way back to the trail, back to your car and the rest of the world.
You sit in the driver’s seat for a long time without starting the engine. Your body throbs. Your wrists are marked. You can still taste him in the back of your throat.
You’ll come back. You know that now. You’ll come back next week, or the week after, and wait in that clearing for whoever shows up to use you.
He finds them in the middle of the act, both unaware of his presence as they rut and grind against each other. He can see his oldest is mostly in charge, but his youngest seems... unsatisfied. Not necessarily having a bad time—they are whining, begging, crying for more—but simply... not as pleasure hazed as they could be.
So he enters their room. Slow. Quiet. He doesn't want his babies to realise he's there until he's pressing right behind the oldest, who yelps and jumps, but is held in place by dad's strong hands. He shushes them, tells them he's not mad, he just wants to help, and demonstrates this by rolling his hips against his oldest's ass, making them grind against the youngest.
The oldest, possessive as they were, were just about to protest until their younger sibling keens and bucks their hips, chasing the pleasure only dad can provide. With a grumble, they accept, leaning over their little sibling and peppering kisses along their cheeks, shaking their hips onto dad's bulge.
The father just grins, proud of his babies, and grips his oldest's hips. Then, he begins to roll his hips, dry humping his kid while they fuck their little sibling. It's a mess, a heated, disgusting, immoral mess. And they're all moaning and feeling better than ever.
At some point, the oldest feels empty, so they beg dad to take his pants off and just take them right then and there. Dad, unable to deny his sweet children, obliges, plowing his kid and fucking them into their sibling, gifting them the best orgasms they'll ever feel.
Now, they can't get it on unless he's present, either helping and guiding them, or just watching. Dad HAS to be there. It's innegociable.
little brother who wishes he had a thick cock instead of a little tdick, and confesses this to his big brother. he wished he knew what it felt like to have one, what it felt like getting harder, jerking off with it.
"do you want to try with mine? just so you know what it's like?" his big bro asks. before he can reply, his big bro is pulling his dick out of his pants and it's already semi-hard. little bro's mind goes blank and he feels his mouth start to water, unexpectedly, and he can't find the words to reply. he's not supposed to get turned on by this. his big bro is just teaching him. it's not sexual.
little bro's silence suits big bro just fine. he takes his little bro's hand and places it on his growing cock, keeping his own hand wrapped around it. "you stroke it like this, and give extra attention to the tip," big bro instructs, and jerks himself off with his little bro's hand. little bro can't keep his eyes off it, can't get over the heat of it, the weight in his hand.
it doesn't take long before big bro removes his hand and little bro is jerking his big bro off all on his own, still mesmerised. he's conscious of the growing wetness between his legs and embarrassed about it. his big bro is trying to do something kind for him and in return, he's having these inappropriate feelings. he can't help it.
"you're doing great," big bro says. "now i'll teach you how to suck dick." little bro can't think straight as his big bro repositions them so little bro is kneeling between his legs, eye-level with his rock-hard cock. "lick it," big bro commands. little bro does, the heady scent making him feel dizzy. "now put it all the way in your mouth."
little bro can't think of anything except his big bro's cock - so he doesn't think about how this has nothing to do with experiencing what it's like to have a dick. he just obeys. he lets his big bro grab a fistful of hair and set the pace, eventually forcing his little bro deeper onto his cock, cumming into his throat like he was just a fleshlight.
"you could do better, so I can teach you more next time," big bro says, all smiles, putting himself away. little bro nods, gasping, trying to remember where he is. the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants his big bro's cock, more, more, and how he's a terrible person for it. his big bro is trying to teach him. he's going straight to his bedroom to touch his tdick until he cums.
Sometimes all a girl wants is to tear up while she feels her big brother stretching out her cunt and he covers her mouth. Whispering for her to be quiet as someone walks past them while he's struggling not to moan as he is cumming deep inside her.
Hmmm... i think i should be taken to the vet, "extreme mood swings" and "anger issues" being cited as the issue. Sitting there in my muzzle while they explain to the doctors how I whine, cry, snap, bark, bite, and spiral into depressive states. They ask the doctor if it's best to have me put down on the spot, murmuring about how "it's clearly suffering" and "nobody will ever want it the way it is now." The vet would explain that we don't need to take quite so drastic measures yet, there is an alternative, and that's that they essentialy preform a modern lobotomy on me. It'd render me pleasantly dumb and smiley, gentle puppyboy with all of that unnecessary brain matter disconnected. Those dramatic thoughts and feelings just... vanished. Sweet. Happy. Presentable.
growling and snapping and barking @spice-dice - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag