ℰ𝓉𝒽𝒾ℯ

Will write anything requested, but I’m not very good In my 20s, but I like to pretend I’m an immortal siren. Fairly inactive

[strikingsiren]

Updated Intro

Hello! I’m strikingsiren. I post short writing pieces when requested.

I reblog stuff a lot, might make a reblog sideblog if i start writing

Requests OPEN!!

Masterlist not ready yet 😭

What I write/ request info

I prefer to write unnamed characters and maybe ocs because I have had a problem with reading fanfiction about characters in shows and it severely affecting my ability to enjoy the show as well as my day to day life.

I typically don’t write unless I get a request. So feel free to ask me anything and everything and I’ll get to writing.

What I usually write:

The following styles:

- Poetry (i don’t post it)

- Oneshots

- nsft concepts

- yapping thoughts

- Drabbles (maybe, I’ve never tried before!

- Imagines

I’ve never had sexual experience so my writing may be inaccurate! :)

[littlecharmingenvy]

Doctor Heat Smut

hello my lovelies~ i love any excuse to write for doctor because he deserves wayy more fics than he has- so here i am, being the change i want to see in the world!

for doctors heat- i don't imagine he would be as needy as pierrot was, but he would still be an absolute mess, so i hope that came across here

WARNINGS: MDNI, smut, doctor x reader, gender neutral AFAB reader, heat, heat cycles, aphrodisiacs (for reader), oral (reader receiving), doctor has a corkscrew penis, size kink, praise, cumflation, monsterfucking, doctor is fucking huge, mention of taxidermy (not part of the smut i promise), doctor loves us xoxo. oh yeah and breeding kink.

WC: 3.7k

Doctor was bent over a diaphonized specimen, using tweezers to delicately pose the small garden snake in the glycerin he was suspending it in. You were sitting beside him quietly, watching his careful movements with interest. The two of you had been sitting in his personal tent like this for about two hours now, sitting in comfortable silence while you watched him work. You noticed when he started that he was a bit rougher than he usually would be with the fragile specimens, nearly breaking the skin on one, though luckily it remained intact; you didn’t think much of it, but you did take note of the oddity. He had gotten through posing nearly all of the batch, and his focus was now entirely pinned on the final snake and the small bottle. 

After sitting so still for so long, your only movement being the quiet fidget toy in your hands, your joints had gotten sore. Without much thought, you raised your arms over your head, stretching your body in a long arc, a small whine slipping from your lips at the relief. You glanced back down, hearing a small splat. Your brow furrowed as you realized he had dropped the specimen. You watched him curiously, waiting for him to pick it up. After several moments of stillness from him however, you tilted your head, growing concerned. 

“Uhh, Doc, you ok?” you asked hesitantly, gazing at him warily. 

He didn’t respond, still staring down blankly at the specimen. You leaned in closer, studying the snake. It seemed Doctor was on a stroke of luck, the specimen appearing fully intact despite the little fall it took. Thinking he was upset about it, you tried to reassure him. “Hey, it’s not broken, it’s ok!” you cheered softly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. 

You froze as a deep, rumbling growl tore through his throat. You pulled away on instinct, standing up as he turned to face you. The eyes of his mask which were normally a beautiful cyan had turned a deep red color, indicating the predatory shift in his mood. You swallowed anxiously. Last time, you had been able to snap him out of it. However, not knowing the cause of this shift, you weren’t sure if you could. 

“Sweetie…” he purred out dangerously, standing up and stumbling slightly closer. You put your hands up in defense, backing up further as you gazed up at his towering figure, eyes wide with fear. The Doctor reached around his neck to remove his apron, placing it haphazardly on the examination table he had been working on. After the cloth left his hands, he pulled at one of his gloves, tugging it off in a smooth motion before moving to the other, dropping them atop the apron. 

“Doc…” you said in a warning tone, hoping he’d hear you. His only response was a low groan as he moved in closer. “Doctor!” you yelled out slightly louder. Your voice finally reached his ears, the red glow fading as the cyan hue returned to his eyes. 

The Doctor cleared his throat, though he didn’t move to step back. “I apologize, my sweet patient, it seems the season has gotten to me more than I realized,” he said apologetically, though with a notable shaky undertone to his voice. 

You cocked your head in confusion at his words. “You mean Spring?” you asked dumbly, confusion slowly overshadowing your previous fear. He stared down at you for a moment, his mask leaving you unable to read his facial expression. Finally, he let out a chuckle before patting your head in a condescending manner. 

“Forgive me; I forget how human you are. Don’t worry about it, sweetie. Your dear Doctor is fine,” he said, his thick accent dripping with amusement and affection. You pouted, knocking his hand away as he chuckled harder. 

“Do allergies make you tweak or something?” you asked. He shook his head, humming as he turned around. 

“No, dearest. But it is getting late, you should probably run along,” he suggested, putting on a clean pair of gloves to continue working on his specimen. You nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, I should head out. See you tomorrow?” you said hopefully. 

“We’ll see,” he responded cryptically. “Be safe, my dear patient~”

…

The next day, you skipped into the circus, excited to see Doctor again. After buying your ticket and having it punched by Ticket Taker, you planned on heading straight for the cyan tent, since the attraction was scheduled to be open tonight. However, before you could wander off, you were stopped. 

“Dear guest, I apologize, but you will find that the cyan tent is closed to all visitors tonight. Please, find yourself at the other attractions,” he said, his voice tired and exasperated. You tilted your head. 

“Oh, is Doctor in the medical tent tonight?” you asked. He had his ‘show’ tent, and then his actual tent, which was tucked away in the back of the circus, both serving as his living quarters and the place for actual medical care, not just scares. His show tent being closed on nights it was meant to be open wasn’t entirely new, as Jester would occasionally have him working on other matters more pertinent to the circus’s function. However, this did not seem to be the case today. 

“I apologize, but he is feeling… unwell. I would highly suggest you find your entertainment at another tent tonight,” he stressed. You glanced around for a moment, before returning your gaze to Ticket Taker. 

“Sooo… will you, like, stop me? Or is this just a ‘suggestion’?” you asked, testing the limits. After staring at you for a moment, he sighed, bowing his head in defeat. 

“I- I don’t care. If you do go see him, make yourself useful,” he said flatly, before moving to take another guest’s ticket to punch. Grinning in victory, you happily skipped towards the back of the circus to find the Doctor’s tent. 

“Hey, Doc, you alright?” you called out as you entered, squinting as you found the interior shrouded in darkness. Not hearing a response, you continued walking in, feeling along the sterile walls to find your way, hoping to maybe find a lightswitch as well. You had a pretty good idea of the setup of the interior, but after entering the doorway to Doctor’s private quarters, you found yourself lost. You walked to the middle of the room, letting out a small huff of air as you ran into a large pile of fabric in the center. You looked around for a moment, hoping your eyes would adjust to the dark faster. 

What you didn’t see were the two glowing, red eyes behind you, watching your every move. 

“Aghk- what the fuck!” you shrieked as you were tackled from behind, a large body wrapping itself around yours as it shielded you from the impact of the… bed? You weren’t entirely sure yet. 

“Why are you here?” came the deep voice you’d come to recognize as Doctor’s. You relaxed in his grip, though the sudden closeness did make your face flush red. Wiggling a bit to let your head free, Doctor turned you around and your gaze met his, the only thing visible being his glowing eyes. 

“Ticket Taker said you were sick, I wanted to check on you,” you explained. 

“You aren’t safe here, little one,” he growled out. 

You blinked. Sure, his eyes were red, but he was speaking to you, and normally he was incapable of holding a conversatoin when he was like this, so you didn’t feel unsafe. “Are you ok?” you finally settled on as a response, placing a hand on his chest to brace yourself. 

Before Doctor could respond, he let out a deep groan, doubling over and inadvertently curling around you. You hadn’t realized it with how fast everything had been moving, but as your hand became crushed against his chest, you realized you were touching bare skin, not the dense fabric of his overcoat. You gasped, realizing he didn’t have any of his clothes on. 

“Shh, sweetie, it’s ok,” he cooed out at your realization. “Just leave here and go to one of the other monsters,” he advised, though his voice took on a bitter edge at the idea of you being with one of his ‘coworkers’, for want of a better word. 

“What’s wrong though? I don’t want to leave until I know you’re ok,” you said with concern, ignoring every human instinct in you telling you to run. 

“It’s my heat, sweetheart. Now, please, run along. I can’t promise I’ll be sane much longer,” he chuckled humorlessly. Even though his words told you to leave, his hands only held you tighter, pulling you taught to him. 

Your brow furrowed at the new information. Heat? They do that? You couldn’t help the pang of sympathy running over you as he held you tight to him. Does it hurt him? What if he needs help with something? You hated the idea of him being alone in such a vulnerable state. Sure, he was 6’9” and a literal monster, but in the time you’d spent with him, you’d found yourself more than fond of him, and the idea of him being alone through this made your heart hurt. 

“...Do you want hel-” you started, not even able to finish the words before you were flipped over, pinned to the pile of blankets and pillows below you. 

“My favorite little patient, comes to my tent, and asks to help me in my heat- and I’m supposed to say no?” he growled to no one in particular. You writhed against his grip, pushing down the masochistic part of you that loved this in order to try and figure out the situation you’d put yourself in. “Oh, and squirming so pretty in my nest for me… this really is a treat, hm?” he purred out, pinning your arms behind your back. 

You let out a garbled yelp as his free hand pried your mouth open, two large fingers thrusting a pill to the back of your throat. You were unable to bite down, so you pushed your tongue against the intrusion, only making Doctor moan. He only relented when the pill began to dissolve, your mouth swallowing instinctively before you could think. 

“Good, my dear patient. Don’t worry, I’ve tested that one before,” he cooed out before licking a stripe up your neck. The pill worked fast, his touch already feeling amplified. 

“Doc?” you asked, your voice more of a whine than before. 

“Yes, my sweet?” he responded. 

“What's a ‘heat’?” you asked. You knew what a heat was, of course, but you didn’t know if it meant the same thing for monsters as it did for other mammals. 

“You’re asking that now?” he chuckled, nipping at the skin of the back of your neck. You felt him press his hips flush to your ass, his large cock grinding against you as he panted by your ear, the beak of his mask resting along the side of your face. “Think of it like a breeding season,” he explained shortly, groaning into your ear. 

“I thought so,” you mumbled shyly. 

“Oh? So you knew what you were getting into? Oh, my dear, sweet patient,” he purred before running a large hand up your shirt. You whimpered softly, arching your back as warmth bloomed under your skin from his touch. “I’m going to break you~”

Doctor wasted no time in tugging your shirt off of you, groping your chest as he rut his large cock against your ass. You found yourself pressing your hips back against him, making him grunt softly as his hands gripped you tighter. He tweaked a nipple between his index finger and thumb, his other hand trailing up to your mouth, hooking two fingers in your cheek to tug your face towards his. Your jaw went slack, letting him push and pull you as he pleased. 

He released his grip on your chest, instead trailing his hand down your jeans, pulling at the button unsuccessfully. He grunted in displeasure, pulling harder at it. 

“Ait-” you tried to tell him to wait, though it came out garbled thanks to the submissive posture he had your face in. 

With a growl, he pulled hard at your jeans, snapping the button as he tugged them down along with your underwear. You huffed out poutily, but you didn’t have long to think about your ruined jeans, his hand instead shoving itself between your legs. You squealed softly as he cupped the mound of your cunt, grinding the palm of his hand against your clit as your eyelids fluttered. 

“All that little pill did was make you more prepared to take me, little one~ Don’t you feel how wet you are already?” he purred against your ear, licking the shell of your ear. You shuddered, rocking against his hand. He was right- you hadn’t realized it, but your slick had already begun trailing down your thighs, your cunt feeling woefully empty. Your jeans were pooled at your knees, the Doctor not bothering to take them off fully as he played with you. 

With a yelp, you felt yourself pushed down into the nest, ass up in the air as your back was forced into a deep arch, your cheek pressing against the soft fabric below you. It smelled entirely of him, the deep, almost earthy scent of him filling your head and making you dizzy. You yelped as you felt his hot tongue lick a stripe up your pussy, his moaning sending vibrations through your core. He nipped at your clit softly, rolling his tongue over it in apology before trailing up to shove his tongue deep inside of you, coaxing more slick from your needy hole. 

“Mmgh- fuck, Doctor, so good,” you moaned, gripping the fabric beneath you as your body rocked from the force of his tongue. He groaned, slick noises being heard behind you as he pumped himself to the taste of you. Your moans only grew louder as his hands gripped your hips in a bruising manner, the dull pain shooting need straight to your core. 

He didn’t stay between your legs long, just enough to clean up any dripping slick. When he pulled his tongue from your hole with a wet squelch, he moved his attention to your inner thighs, lapping up the remains of your arousal as you whined softly. By now, the aphrodisiac had built up properly in your system, making every touch feel magnified. Is this how he feels? you wondered dazedly. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of him mounting you from behind, his chest pressing against your back, arms caging you in. One hand braced on your hips as he nuzzled his masked face against yours, not bothering to take it off. You felt the tapered tip of his cock press towards your entrance, a deep groan leaving Doctor as his tip rubbed through your slick that had already begun dripping again. 

“Sweetie, please, let me breed you,” he panted out by your ear. You moaned softly, rocking your hips back towards him in invitation. 

“Mm, need it, Doc, breed me-” you whined, being rewarded with the feeling of his cock pressing into you. A groan forced itself from your throat as his cock quickly tapered into something much thicker, the spiral ridges along the sides only helping pool your slick around his length, drawing him in further. 

“So good, so good at taking me. Doing such a good job,” he grunted out, his accent thick and heavy with arousal. “My sweet little mate,” he purred, pressing his cock in further. 

You felt pressure build in your lower tummy as his cock pressed against your cervix, still pushing further even at the barrier. You cried out at the slight discomfort, rocking your hips forward to run from the feeling. 

“Aww, is my little patient struggling to take me?” he asked, giggling in your ear. You whimpered, nodding as you tucked your face in your arm, eyes rolling back pitifully. You squealed softly as he thrust his cock roughly into you, that pressure building further. You clawed at his caged arms. 

“T-too big, Doc, can’t take it-” you whined, making him moan. He placed his forearm in front of your mouth, pulling back against your mouth to make your teeth latch around him. 

“Bite. This will feel odd, but I promise you’ll feel good,” he murmured. You bit down instinctively as his cock rammed into you, harder than the last time. This time however, pure pleasure pooled in your womb as his cock bullied its way inside, his entire length now inside of you. You shrieked against his arm, the sound muffled against his flesh. He cried out, tucking his head into the junction of your neck as he ground himself within your walls, his cock pulsing within you. 

“Mm, and to think you- fuck- to think you said you couldn’t take it. It’s like you were made for my cock, dear patient,” he hissed out, his hips setting a brutal pace against you. Every movement was hard, precise; clearly, he was entirely focused on breeding you, every fiber of his being screaming with the primal urge. 

He groaned as your teeth latched harder around his arm, and if he were human it no doubt would have drawn blood. For him, however, the pain only made him more aroused. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back against him to match his pace. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, sparks of pleasure shooting through you every time his cock hit the back of your womb. The spiral ridges along his cock rolled against your sweet spots as he fucked into you, and you couldn’t help the shaking of your thighs at the overwhelming pleasure. 

With his arm lodged in your mouth, you couldn’t warn him of your impending orgasm. The second he felt your walls convulse around him, he groaned lowly, nipping at your neck. “Cum all over my cock, sweetheart. Feels good, hm?” he grunted, his hips still pistoning into yours, fucking you through it. Your body jerked with the force of your orgasm, legs shaking and chest heaving as you fought for air. 

You came down from your orgasm, but Doctor didn’t pause for even a moment, still pressing into you at that bruising pace. You whined, gripping his arm desperately as overstimulation settled against you, the aphrodisiac in your system only making you feel more sensitive. 

“Come on, you can take a little more for me, hm? You’re doing so well, dear. Just a little more, and you can rest,” he reassured, though his tone was low and needy, strained with the pleasure and relief coursing through him. His hand that was wrapped around your waist readjusted to be able to reach your cunt, rubbing two fingers over your clit, making your walls flutter around him. 

You tried to tell him too much, but you couldn’t get the words out with the obstruction. You were forced to take the overwhelming pleasure as each wave rolled over you, until your mind was mush. A different need began to pool through you as his cock pulsed inside of you, a need that nearly made you delirious as you fought against his arm, pushing it away to babble mindlessly. 

“Please, I need you to cum in me- fuck, please, breed me-” you gasped out, stars popping in your vision with every thrust. Doctor groaned deeply against your ear, his cock throbbing inside of you. 

“Don’t say that, sweetie, I’ll…” he moaned, his voice shaky. You whined, shaking your head. 

“No, please I need your cum, I need you- I can take it, I’ll be good. Just breed me-!” 

At your desperate begging, he let out a final groan, pressing his hips against yours as he shot his cum deep within you, moving from your clit to cup your lower stomach as it bulged around the intrusion. He caressed the bump lovingly as he humped into you, riding out his orgasm as your own crashed over you. 

“Good job sweetie. Taking me so well, especially for such a little human. Take me, take my cum,” he growled out as he ground against you, making sure you took every drop. He came an obscene amount, so much so that you felt your skin begin to pull taught as your stomach bulged slightly. He groaned at the same realization, and it only served to heighten your orgasm. As the two of you came down from your highs, he caressed over your stomach lovingly, almost possessively. 

“You did good, dear patient. I apologize if I was too rough,” he said, tone still shaky but clearly more in control. He slowly began to pull his cock out of you, making you whine as you collapsed into the nest. He relaxed behind you, curling his body around yours as he wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, your body touching his at nearly every point. You panted as you came down, struggling to find your voice after such intense stimulation. 

“Is your heat better?” you panted out, nuzzling against the arm under your head. The aphrodisiac still buzzed under your skin, but it was more manageable than it had been a few moments ago, his cum triggering some sort of satiation within you. 

“For now,” he chuckled, alarming you slightly. “Mm, your heart raced at that. Are you frightened by the idea of my insatiable arousal, sweetie?” he purred softly, nipping the shell of your ear as you shivered. He continued on. “No, my heat will last around a week. Breeding only relieves the ache for a little while. Maybe a half hour?” he explained. 

“Doctor, I won’t survive,” you said in exasperation. Just what had you gotten yourself into?

“Don’t be silly, sweetie, I have enough aphrodisiacs to last the whole week!” he chirped excitedly, as if the idea of you being just as needy as him made him more aroused than his heat. You let out a shuddering breath.  You were so fucked.

[littlecharmingenvy]

anyone whos ever owned birds knows they LOVE to drink out of their bath water and bath in their drinking water. bc birds are weird.

Doctor: "Sweetie, would you mind handing me a glass of water?"

You: "Ofc!" *hands him the water*

Doctor: "Thank you" *fucking dumps it all over him*

You: ಠ_ಠ 

[littlecharmingenvy]

TFC characters reacting to your breeding kink- HCs

hihi! this was a request from @sweetlicorice that i absolutely could not pass up, i hope i did it justice !!! i havent written headcanons in a good while so i hope y'all like em <333

warnings: MDNI, smut-adjacent, all five of the boys are here ofccc, jester is mentioned to have an ovipositor, praise, teasing, this is pretty tame as far as my stuff goes tbh not a ton of warnings, AFAB gender neutral reader, breeding kinks (ofc), I think the word pregnant is dropped like once and its in harleys, sub reader for most/all, cockwarming. uhh I think that's it enjoy xoxo

WC: ~1k

Pierrot

<3 Oh, homeboy is so excited

<3 Seeing you all flustered as you tried to explain your kink, your face warm and your heart beating fast is doing terrible things to Pierrot

<3 Once he gets past how cute you look asking him to cum inside you and knock you up, the thought really starts to enter his mind

<3 All of a sudden he can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’d sound, moaning as he stuffed you full of his knot, how good you’d feel taking all of him

<3 Not to mention if it takes, too, seeing you all round and full of his pups. Mmm, yeah you’re not going far after you tell him

~~~~~

“I-I’m sorry if it’s too weird, you don’t have to-” you started, wringing your hands out as you tried to read Pierrot’s face, bright red as the monster stared at you silently. 

“No,” he said firmly, gazing at you with an intensity that locked you into place. “I… are you sure? Isn’t that like saying… you want to start a family with me?” 

As much as his words sounded incredulous, the drool trailing down his mask at the idea let you know he was not opposed to it. You swallowed nervously. 

“Well, I mean, one day..? I just like the idea of you saying you want to breed me,” you explained further, watching a shiver wrack through his body at the word alone. Pierrot leaned in closer, closer, until he was hovering over you on the couch. 

“Can we start… now, my love?” he rasped out, panting softly. “Will you let me breed you?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harlequin

<3 He’s just as into it as you are

<3 That does NOT stop him from bullying you about this

<3 He’s so mean when you tell him, grinning as he teases you about your ‘debauched little fetish’

<3 Unlike Pierrot, he’s not immediately going in for it

<3 He would wait until the next time you two fucked, letting you think he forgot about it, before whispering in your ear the words you’d been praying to hear from him

~~~~~

“Fuck, Harley, ‘m close,” you warned, his cocks pistoning into you at a mean pace. He chuckled breathlessly above you, his arms on either side of your head, caging you in so all you could see was him. 

“Aw, does it feel good, dear one?” he purred out, one of his tendrils rubbing lazy circles against your clit. You pouted up at him, brow furrowed at his teasing. He grinned, leaning down as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “You want me to cum inside you? Hm? Want me to stuff you full of my cocks until I breed you full of me?”

Your orgasm crashes into you as he laughs, entirely entertained, though he talks a big game for someone who isn’t thrown towards his own orgasm as you wrap your legs around his waist, mumbling ‘get me pregnant’ against his ear in a needy tone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jester

<3 He’ll never show you he’s affected by you

<3 As your lover in general though, he pretends to not care about much about you

<3 This doesn’t mean he doesn’t care- just that he’d never show it

<3 He absolutely degrades you about it

<3 He’s totallyyyy never thought about the same thing. He’d neverrr

~~~~~

“What, did you expect me to be surprised?” he asked, legs crossed as he looked at you through his lashes, bored judgement seeping from his core. 

“I-”

“No, you’ve said quite enough, pet,” he shushed you, holding up a hand to keep you quiet. “I don’t understand why you felt the need to say something so painfully obvious. You humans are so obsessed with your base desires, it’s a miracle you’re not begging for it,” he mused lightly, a slight grin on his masked face as he belittled you. You whimpered, keeping quiet. There wasn’t really anything you could say to defend yourself here. 

You looked down in shame, heat rising to your cheeks as you writhed under his gaze. He let you avoid eye contact for a few moments before snapping his fingers once, making your eyes quickly meet his. He grinned smugly at your obedience before letting his face fall to one of boredom once again. 

“Don’t act so pitiful, pet, it’s embarrassing,” he chastised, enjoying watching you squirm. “If you can be good for me until my next heat, maybe I’ll reward you and stuff you full of my eggs,” he said. He huffed softly in amusement as you audibly whimpered, nodding desperately. 

“Good pet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ticket Taker

<3 He’s not jumping for joy about it

<3 Creampies are messy, and a lot more work for him to clean up

<3 That doesn’t mean he’s against it, now. It’s just… a treat more than it is a common practice

<3 He does like how into it you are though- kinks are an excellent motivator when you’re struggling to keep up with certain demands

~~~~~

“If you can’t sit still, you can’t sit with me, dear,” he hummed absentmindedly, tunnel visioned on his paperwork. You whined, your cunt bearing down on his cock once again as you tried your best not to squirm in his lap. 

“‘M sorry. I’m trying,” you mumbled. Your brain was fried from cockwarming him for so long. How long had it been, maybe an hour..?

“Try harder,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. His hips shifted a bit to get comfortable in his seat, the almost imperceptible amount of friction from the movement making you squirm more. You felt one arm wrap around your midsection before his hand held your jaw firmly in place, his lips ghosting against your ear as he spoke. 

“Be still and I’ll cum inside.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doctor

<3 He is a lil confused at first. You know your species aren’t compatible, right?

<3 But when you explain that ‘its a kink thing, not an actual proposal for children,’ he understands a bit more

<3 You know he’s gonna want to try it out. You were hoping for that when you told him

~~~~~

“Your heart rate increased when I said that,” he hummed teasingly, dragging his cock against the walls of your cunt in a slow, deep rhythm that had you writhing against the exam table. “Do you really like it that much when I say I’m going to breed you?”

You whined softly, nodding. You were so, so close to the edge. All you wanted to do was wrap your legs around his waist until he came deep inside you, but with how your ankles were strapped down, that wasn’t really an option. 

“Mm, always such a good patient for me, sweetie,” he groaned softly, rocking his hips into yours harder than before. He dipped his head down, sharp teeth grazing just over your pulse point. “You know, I find it quite amusing, this little kink of yours,” he hummed in thought, labored breaths fanning across the sensitive skin of your neck. “Aroused by how your body was made to take my cock… is that it, sweetie? Do you just want to be mine?”

[acapelladitty]

examination room #2

Summary - Having signed up for an outreach program run by the Murkoff company, you quickly find yourself subjected to torments beyond anything you could have anticipated.

(tw for: medical testing, non-con, drugging, sexual torment, male and female aggressors, biting, restraints, vaginal sex, mild gore, objectification)

Link to AO3 ☆ Fic Masterlist ☆ Ko-Fi

In the minute since you had awoken, things had only grown from bad to worse. The first concern was the fear which froze your blood in your veins as you took in the filthy room which was spattered with blood and other mess was also rattling your limbs against the standing gurney they were restrained to. And the second was that the two doctors who were surveying you from behind two identical clipboards did not seem bothered by your terror in the slightest.

“Where,” you slur the question out like it meant anything, “where am I?”

“Subject is conscious.” The male doctor comments, ticking something off his clipboard as his bright eyes flick to the female doctor by his side. “Should we commence?”

“Yes. You may apply the goggles while I monitor restraints and vitals.”

Replying curtly, the female doctor surveys you with empty eyes – devoid of anything but a slight sadistic joy which only flicks at the edges of her dark eyes.

Goggles?

Without warning, your head is pulled back tight against the head restraint and secured in place in such a way that it makes any movement impossible as you watch the male doctor pick up a medical drill and approach your defenceless position with confident strides.

The next few moments blur into nothing but a cruel combination of terror, agony, and disbelief.

The pain of the drill is indescribable, the drugs which flow through your veins only just keeping you conscious as you scream and scream – the noise almost feeling like a distant buzzing from some other poor suffering fool.

The goggles feel heavy against your head, pressing into your hairline and making your skull feel off-kilter as you lie back against the tall gurney. The edges of your vision flicker with darkness and you can feel the approaching unconsciousness threatening to wipe you out, a promise of relief which you welcome with open arms as you want to fall asleep and never wake up again.

“Adrenaline.”

As she presses the plunger, the sudden rush from the adrenaline forces you back from the edge of oblivion as you gasp and feel your hear thunder within your chest. Your heart feels fit to explode, your wrists pulling harshly on the restraints which keep you pinned to the gurney until you swear you can feel blood trickling down your fingers.

The doctors observe you for a few minutes, allowing the trauma of your latest headpiece to settle as they occasionally flashed their lights in your eyes and clicked their fingers to test the speed and accuracy of your responses. Your head feels impossible, connected to your neck as always but far too heavy to be your own and the drugs which flow through your veins take away the worst of the pain – turning your experience into something almost hallucinatory.

“This one is pretty.” Tilting her head at you as her short fingernails push your chin up to meet her gaze, the female doctor doesn’t blink as she takes in your heaving appearance. “Perhaps a fuller examination would be required for her. Just as a precaution.”

“A precaution? You think she’s our candidate for the day?”

“Well, we are only allowed one a day. And the day is almost through.”

“Then I agree to your assessment, doctor.”

“Please let me go.” You interrupt them with the groggy demand, the pounding in your skull dulling to a constant roar as you beg.

“You signed the waiver.” The male doctor dismisses you with a look,

“This is all for your own protection, reagent.”

Reagent.

The word meant nothing to you.

“I won’t tell anyone. You can take these,” you dip your eyes up to the goggles, “off and I’ll go back- go back to my life.”

“Life? You have no life. You’re here because you have no life. No family. No real friends. No prospects. But that all changes today.” He continues, lifeless eyes meeting your own as sadistic heat enters his drawn features.

The doctors fingers are cold against your chest, the latex gloves easily gliding across your skin as he slips his hands within your simple bra and pulls your tits free – allowing them to hang over the fabric as your nipples quickly peak in the chilly air.

“Pretty areolas,” the female doctor purrs, leaning in close, “I wonder how they taste.”

Without warning, her lips wrap around your left nipple and suck harshly, drawing the sensitive bud between her teeth to worry it gently as you gasp and arch your back from the gurney. Watching her with a growing tent at the groin of his lab coat, the male doctor nods his approval.

“Give her something to respond to.” He mutters quietly and you yelp in discomfort when pain explodes in your chest as the female doctor sinks her teeth harder into your nipple. The male doctor makes a note on his chart as she pulls away and he smirks as he continues his assessment, “Ah, yes. She’s sensitive.”

Warmth floods your gut, sitting alongside your horror as the drugs leave you victim to their manipulations – every touch amplified as it pierces through the discomfort of your head. The thick metal bands which hold your ankles, stomach and wrists in place keep their tension as you pull against them, an act which grows even more desperate as the male doctor hikes your skirt high enough to tuck it within its own waistband.

Your lower half now exposed, you whimper as the female doctor hooks her fingers within the band of your underwear and pulls it down to your knees. Scissors appear from nowhere in her hands, cutting the soft material at the sides so it falls to the floor and leaves you completely vulnerable.

Shame guts you from the inside out, fear and embarrassment making your cheeks flush as both doctors stare at your sex with open interest – their arousal clear.

“Let’s clean her up and then we can continue.”

You hear the quiet snip of the scissors once more and feel the attention on your cunt as they work together to trim back your pubic hair, the entire process making you wriggle in place as the discomfort of their fingers, pulling and pinching at your folds, is interspersed with the odd, gentle finger rolling across the hood of your clit.

A gasp escapes you as the male doctor brushes his middle finger along your clit and he pauses long enough to pull your clit hood back and investigate the nub below.

“Rather small,” he mutters, “nothing too fun or easy to work with.”

“It’ll do.”

“Hmph,” the male doctor grunts and his head appears before your own as he stands and grabs the goggles now affixed to your skull, “I hate the way they look at us sometimes.” And with that, he pulls the goggles down, stealing your natural vision and replacing it with the intense contrast of the night vision.

The lightbulb which sits high against the ceiling burns your vision for a moment, the stark white glow making you squint and a strangled sound escapes you as you feel warm hands circling your ankle restraints and loosening the metal there.

“I can’t wait anymore.” The masculine voice of the first doctor fills the space, “I need to bury this bone somewhere before it bursts.”

With only your ankles free, it is easy for the male doctor to position himself between your legs – his cock bumping messily along your slit as his erratic breath huffs in the quiet room.

The female doctor is just as busy as you flick your eyes towards her, her hand pushed up beneath her skirt as she watches her colleague grind his cock against your cunt. However, your attention is ripped from her as you feel the doctors cock finally sink home between your legs. It’s pain and discomfort, your cunt nowhere near wet enough to make the intrusion easy and you squeal out your distress even as a traitorous, drugged pleasure scores up your spine.

He falls into a cruel rhythm, his bucking hips and huffing breath painfully loud as you remain bolted in place and unable to do anything but try to latch on to the scant enjoyment which the chemicals in your blood have to offer.

Distracted, you scream as soft finger pinch at your clit, catching the ultra-sensitive nub between sharp nails and you turn your head to meet the sadistic smile of the female doctor – her other hand still rubbing furiously at her own slit as she adds to your torments. Her smile is agonisingly bright in the night-vision and you close your eyes to save yourself from it.

“Please-please, stop.”

“Don’t be silly.” The female doctor moans, pulling her glistening fingers from below her skirt as she wordlessly presses them to the mouth of the male doctor as he continues his assault on your cunt. “This is simply another examination, darling.”

She pinches you again, this time with a slight twist to her nails and you keen out something pathetic as the male doctor audibly mutters something filthy under his breath at the sudden tightness of your walls as the discomfort makes you clench around his cock.

“She’s fucking tight, doctor.” He hisses, one hand pulling at your leg and spreading it wider to the side as he created more space for himself. “Definitely not a whore like the last one.”

He fucks you without care, his cock pulls a wicked mixture of pain and pleasure from your suffering frame as the female doctor manipulates your clit to keep you as aroused as she wants you to be.

“I want her next,” the female doctor huffs breathily as her fingers pick up their pace within her cunt, “and I want to see that pretty tongue buried deep in me.”

“Then buzz Easterman, tell him the latest arrival is being held for additional testing.” The male doctor groans at her, his hand slipping down to grope at your tit roughly. “Tell him she’ll be delivered to the sleep room by morning.”

A vague acknowledgement crackles back from her throat and she pulls her hand free of your clit long enough to go and locate an intercom to pass the instruction along. With her gone, the male doctor picks up his pace, his cock glancing off your cervix with every thrust, and you can tell he’s close as his mouth drops to your uncovered shoulder.

His teeth bury themselves in your skin, the bite forcing you to yelp as his release burns deep within your cunt. Nausea rises in your throat as the line between reality and delusion dissolves as pain and pleasure mean nothing in the haze of your overstimulated frame.

“You’re good.” The male doctor wheezes, “You’re fucking good. I’m looking forward to what comes next, reagent.”

“Well,” the female doctor hums as she returns, “now that we actually do have you to ourselves for a little longer, we should take the time to continue with a more thorough examination. Doctor, if you’re finished, would you like to fetch the speculum and the electric kit while I lower her to a more horizontal positioning?”

So strung-out on a toxic combination of the drugs which flowed through your system and the residual adrenaline from your fear, their words barely register in your throbbing mind as you lay against the standing gurney and feel your sanity slowly continue on its inevitable descent into madness.

[emfaeri]

After Hours #1

I chugged a margarita and had a wine cooler chaser on an empty stomach. (Don't worry, I had a bomb ass Italian sub in between). Fun fact about me is that I get extremely affectionate and flirty when I'm drunk, so here's some NSFW headcanons about our favorite circus boys.

Y'all are not ready for the level of monster fucker I'm about to out myself for.

If you see any grammatical errors, nuh uh, we're letting the coochie type this one. I'm also doing this all in one sitting and letting auto correct light the way.

Tags: NSFW, pet play, hunter/prey, breeding ofc, oviposition, wax play, temp play, tentacles, overstimulation, edging, shibari, praise kinks, gentle dom, mirror sex, knife play, degradation, spanking/impact play, marking, body worship, annnnnnd blood play

The Freak Circus is an 18+ Visual novel Themes include but are not limited to: dark elements, strong language, sensitive graphic content. My works can depict similar themes and are not intended for minors.

One extremely Spicy Order Up!

Pierrot

Your sweet Pierrot's shyness goes out the window once love making is on the table. He'll often ask you what type of love you'd want in the moment, whether it be sweet sensual love making, or a primal mating session. He's always willing to accommodate his darling the best he can for as long as he wants. (Best to set up a safe word with him beforehand, for your body's safety).

It's no surprise he has a raging body worship and breeding kink. It doesn't matter if it's gentle, rough, primal, he will always sing your praises and show his devotion to your temple of a body whenever there's oxygen in his lungs. He'll smother you in kisses and lick trails across every inch of your body if you'll let him. Your skin under attack from his sharp teeth that gently scrape and nip at your sensitive zones. He always asks to bite you however, starting off with complete pleas but eventually devolving to a desperate "please". But once you give him permission one too many times he loses his self control.

You'd have to use the jaws of life to pry his mouth off of your core, this man will eat, suck, and tongue fuck you to tears nearly every time, and then some. He loves holding you in place as you writhe under him, his tongue explores every nook and cranny in your sensitive hole. The sweet sounds you make egging him on to see just how far he could push you before your complete and utter ruin. Your body is a temple he swore to worship, but sometimes a little desecration gives him even more reason to rebuild his devotion.

Pierrot also has a deadly breeding kink and a knot to match. His primal instincts take hold once feels his knot start to inflate, gutteral growls and pants filling the void of his usual praises, his petnames transforming into a slurry of possessive "mine's".

He purrs into your neck once his knot finally slots itself inside you, his cock pulsing rhythmically as he shoots his cum deep inside you. Sometimes even chasing the pleasure for both of you by pulling his knot out just to ram it back inside you, knot-fucking you, sinful squelches only encouraging him to fill you to the brim again. He yearns to leave his mark on you in every sense, including watching his cum seeping out of your abused hole.

Harlequin

His usual flirty banter seemingly hits new highs as sex becomes a regular occurrence for you. Often accompanied by sarcastic remarks about how long it takes for you to warm up enough for his tastes. Foreplay for him mostly just includes a hunter/prey dynamic that gets both of your hearts racing. His usual petnames change to prey items, "bunny, rabbit, lamb, and fawn" being common ones. He loves the thrill of a chase and the accomplishment of an easy catch. "Run, little rabbit, let's see how far you make it this time."

Without a doubt his tendrils come into play routinely. Restricting your movement, snaking their way under your clothes, teasing the sensitive flesh underneath. All while he has his way marking what is rightfully his, sometimes to the point of blood play, his personal reward for a successful hunt. His ropes often stretching your hole thoroughly before he even reveals his cocks. Yes plural.

Just like Pierrot, he enjoys seeing you squirm and buck against his tendrils in a pitiful attempt for a break. You're a sopping wet mess around him and he always reminds you of it. "My my, such a sinful little disaster you can be, little fawn~. Keep crying out, maybe someone can bask in your misery~." His dirty talk works better than most vibrators ever could dream of.

Harlequin is quite proud of his cocks, stacked on top of each other with the top having a dramatic curve upwards and the bottom being girthy. Although his favorite thing is to take advantage of your spent state only to push both of his cocks in you at once, using his ropes to move your weakened body like his personal fleshlight. It takes him a while to cum so be sure to make yourself useful, little lamb.

If you show him genuine affection and love it honestly takes him aback. Sometimes completely stopping the encounter with an utter of your mutual save word from his trembling lips. After enough talks and bonding he'd be more inclined to allow you to take the lead and show him the true side of intimacy. Gentle caresses, loving kisses, and slow rolls of your hips sending him to a whole new plane of pleasure, one that only you hold the keys to, treat him gently and he might get addicted to this side of sex, just don't mention his choked whimpers and groans as he tries to hide his face into his arms.

Jester

"Come pet, entertain me." He purrs as he yanks your leash closer to him, his hand trailing from your jaw to your chin, it's sharp claw cutting your skin ever so gently. You were nothing but a means for stress relief to him, and you will serve your purpose. Before any stress relief takes place however, you both have an extended conversation on boundaries, safewords, terms and conditions, he even went as far as to compile a contract for you to initial, and he will enforce any violations.

One of his favorite bonding activities with you is shibari. Seeing you tied up is one thing but seeing what kind of intricate designs he can place on your beautiful figure is an art form to him. He always offers his pet the choice of color. Sometimes you two talk about anything that comes to mind, others however you must be in your best behavior. "Good pets don't bark unprompted. Try that again and we'll have to refresh your training."

His dirty talk is an intoxicating combination of degradation and praise that keeps your breath in your lungs. "Such a sad little creature, I haven't even done much to warrant this much of a reaction from you. And yet, look at the beautiful mess you've become." Your moans are his favorite symphony and he is but a humble composer. Often using toys to bring you pleasure, vibrators strapped to your tied form, always being pulled away if you get too close to cumming. Blindfolds to keep you guessing what would come next, gags if you get too lippy for his tastes.

He absolutely is just in it to watch you come undone under his touch. Edging you for hours to the brink of tears, seeing how far he can push you before you disobey and act out of line. Often avoiding your hole and opting to tease the rest of your body, featherlight touches dancing around your eager body. Being a greedy brat is often met with a fierce reminder to your sensitive skin. His often marks your skin with a riding crop, although if you've learned your lesson he might honor your skin with his handprint.

"I suppose you've been good enough to warrant release, my sweet pet, do you wish for me to take you now? To finally ravish you? To claim you as my own?" He eventually pities you enough to ravage your hole with his Eldritch cocks, although a collection of smaller tentacles, he has complete control over each of them, often twisting them into one cohesive appendage. Every single one of your sweet spots inside of you thoroughly ravaged as he expertly angles individual tentacles to mercilessly bring you release after release. He only officially marks you right at the pinnacle of his release, sinking his fangs into the crook of your neck as his cocks pulse deep inside of you, pumping fertile eggs into your warm body, a few of the cocks slithering out to coat your body in his essence, smearing his scent around your claimed body.

Ticket Taker

It's not surprising that Ticket Taker will train you and train you well. After all, good humans earn their place with obedience. He will Pavlov you into behaving with positive reinforcement. "Tell me what you want and it will be yours, but I will not stand for silence." It's surprisingly a good trust building activity between the two of you, a sense of intimate closeness and fully exploring each other's open boundaries, and a confidence builder for any insecurities you may have.

"I want you to look at nothing but my eyes, my dear." Your glazed eyes flicking up to his as his mirror form splits you open on its phantom fingers. The stretch filling your eyes with tears as you tried to concentrate on the simple order he gave you, only to give into your body and shut them only for a moment. "Ah ah ah, you know the rules," he tuts as the feeling of being full seemingly vanishes, a desperate whine escaping your pretty little throat.

If you have body image issues he's just the monster to fuck some sense into you. He'll position reflections of every sinful angle so you can watch his grooved cock sliding deep within you, your stomach bulging out at the overwhelming curves of his smooth ridges. "Your beauty is marvelous, my dear, look at yourself," he firmly grabs you by your chin moving it towards one of the mirrors, the sight of your disheveled body something out of a fantasy. "I want you to list off the qualities that you like about yourself as I take you to the edge of oblivion."

Some nights when he's especially pent up expect his mirror doppelgangers to join in on the night's indulgences. Spit roasting, Eiffel towers, double penetration, even him just allowing his mirror images to turn you into a breathtaking sight as he finishes up his work for the evening.

When he does reach his limit he opts to claim you from the inside out, his ribbed cock inflating into multiple knots as he pumps his cum into you, often seeping out from your opening. He rarely ever allows his knots to deflate before gingerly pulling from you, opting for immediate aftercare, always praising you for your performance, even going as far to highlight his favorite parts to boost your ego.

Doctor

Doctor is immensely curious about every single facet of your body. It's no surprise that he'd make every instance into an experiment after the first time you had vanilla sex. (His control for future intercourse). Anywhere from watching how you squirm away from hot wax dripping on your warm body, to your startled gasp when an ice cube was pressed to your nipples. But his favorite so far has to be using you as his personal anatomical model. Taking a marker and intricately drawing representations of your internal organs where they lie beneath your delicate skin, annotating terminology accordingly. Using your body's curves as guides for muscle groups, tracing your pulse points drawing snaking lines where your arteries and veins lie.

Although if you bring up the obvious roleplay with him he'll not only find it amusing but also indulge your wishes, if that's what his sweetie wishes. Your arousal is intoxicating to him regardless of what you decide on. The way your heart races, the change in blood pressure, the way your body screams out its desires in its silent language he would spend centuries to decipher. If you turn the tables on him and try to run your own diagnostics on him for a change you'll hear a genuine chuckle, "my sweetie wishes to be my personal nurse? How can I object to such a tempting mutual learning experience."

It's not uncommon for the Doctor to accidentally nick you with one of his claws, the smell of your blood sometimes sending him into a frenzy. Licking at the wound, throwing away any chances of a meaningful experiment he allows his impulses to take hold. Gutteral growls and snarls replace his usual mutters of hypotheses. His frantic movements sometimes cause more scratches and more blood to rise to the surface. His cock straining painfully for any form of friction. His hands frantically try to prepare you for him, using whatever control he has left to not wound you internally with his claws. "Sweetie, I fear I cannot hold back any longer. I must take you as you are."

Normally he prefers a few hours to your preparation if you agree to penetration. His cock is the most well endowed of the troupe, fitted with multiple ridges that increase in thickness, the curve dangerously similar to a hook. Every ridge accompanied by a metal ball of his jacob's ladder, and a prince albert to boot. He always lubes himself and your hole to avoid any potential tearing, but when he gets this worked up he just squeezes a sloppy amount in his hands and gives himself a few strokes before lining himself up at your entrance. "I know, I know, sweetie. Just a little more." he gently lies to you as his cock stutters inside you, each ridge popping inside you stretching you to your limit.

Once he's fully seated inside you he allows you to accommodate only for a moment before dragging his cock out of you, his thrusts starting off as gentle before escalating to a brutal pace once he was confident you could handle it. His cockhead pummeling against your sensitive walls causing him to growl at the sensation. His hand snakes down in between your bodies to bring you further pleasure as if his overwhelming body wasn't enough. He simply just wants to push you to your limits and see your reactions, feeling your body's reaction to his was intoxicating enough. He always cums deep and hard, thrusting roughly in between pulses to guarantee any chances of impregnation, biology be damned. After a moment he pulls out to watch your body spasm, making mental notes of how his cum seeps out of you. Next time if he angles your body just right, maybe more of his cum will remain inside you.

[accessibleposts]

could you explain the post about shoelaces and presidents? it would be greatly appreciated thank you

Sure! Do you mean this post?

So, it started in a post in 2012 (or earlier, I don’t know the exact date). As the Urban Dictionary entry explains, you would say “I like your shoelaces” in public as a sort of secret code if you suspect there’s another Tumblr user there. And if there is another Tumblr user, they would reply “Thanks, I stole them from the president” to let you know they understood the message and are, in fact, a Tumblr user. 

I don’t think people do this anymore, and if they ever did, it probably wasn’t a very common thing to do. Maybe they did back in 2012 when the post was recent and Tumblr wasn’t as popular as it is now. 

I also don’t think there’s any deeper meaning to the phrases. “I like your shoelaces” seems like a pretty common and nice thing to say, and if it turns out the person you thought was a Tumblr user doesn’t recognise the ‘secret message’, nothing would happen. But then “Thanks, I stole them from the president” seems weird and specific enough that you would know they understood the ‘secret message’, unlike if they just replied “Thank you”. 

Then other posts appeared making references to the shoelaces and president posts:

[neil-gaiman]

Whoa. I’d missed that one. Then again, late 2012 was when I arrived here…

[babydollcer]

Isn’t it so hot when you’re constantly teased and edged while the person using you gets to cum as many times as they want???

I need you to stretch me out on my biggest dildo, add a plug so I’m nice and full, then lock me away in a chastity belt. Make the belt so tight that no matter how much I hump, I can’t feel any friction at all on my needy little clit.

Don’t forget to add nipple clamps so you have something to play with while using me!

Tie my hands behind my back and use my slutty mouth to make yourself cum. Fuck my face until I’m drooling and crying.

You need to cum more than I need to breathe.

When you’ve finally cum all over my face and down my tits, use the chain to yank my nipples until I’m clambering to keep up with you.

Hang the chain on a hook so I’m stuck on my tiptoes, facing the wall, desperate and needy but with no relief.

Go about your day until you’re ready to fuck my face again!

[applefishing]

medical kink with zayne doctor/patient, dubcon, cum as medicine

You’ve only been seeing him a few weeks when he suggests you have a full checkup. He's calm, composed and professional when he explains exactly what that means, and it should be completely normal.

But he's not just your doctor. The unspoken agreement to ignore the relationship you shared as children during each appointment has suited you perfectly fine. But as he hands you a small thin gown and draws the curtains around the small bed so you can change, you suddenly find yourself wishing you’d faced the elephant in the room before now.

The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard is the only accompaniment to your undressing. And it’s only when you hook your thumbs into the elastic of your underwear that you find your voice. “Do you think… maybe I should see another doctor for this?”

He stops typing. Silence, 1… 2…

A draw slams.

Your nails dig into your hips as you jump, startled.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says. Calm. Matter of fact. Final. “Are you ready?”

You quickly let your underwear drop and slip into the flimsy hospital gown. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… ready.”

You blink into the light as the curtain is pulled back, exposing you the full glare of the fluorescents.

A large shadow offers you a little relief.

“Lie down for me, please,” he instructs as he snaps a pair of blue gloves onto his hands.

It starts just as you expect, you lace your fingers together across your stomach and stare at the white ceiling and pretend it’s normal to have your childhood friend positioning himself between your legs under bright fluorescents at 10 in the morning, or at all.

He parts your thighs with gentle confidence. “It’s just a quick look,” he says. “Nothing invasive. Try and stay still for me.”

You nod, closing your eyes to seek a little false privacy.

His chair squeaks as he adjusts himself between your legs, but apart from a hand on your thigh, he doesn’t touch you. The air hits you, remining you of your starkness, and it’s unlike anything else, that feeling of exposure.

You attempt to keep your breathing steady, to match his own.

Then his chair squeaks again, and you can feel he’s closer. So close his breath warms the skin of your thighs. “Mm,” he hums, “just a little cold from the gloves now.”

You hold your breath. The chair squeaks. And despite your best efforts, you flinch at the light brush of his gloves. It’s not from the cold. In fact, they aren’t cold at all. You can feel the warmth of his hands through the plastic. But you were expecting something a little more assured, firm, purposeful.

This touch is light. So light it almost tickles.

“It’s alright,” he says. “Just do your best to stay still.”

You suck in a deep breath, and his finger returns. Still far too light. One single, continuous stroke from your mound to your entrance. Feather-light.

That’s how he touches you for what feels like minutes.

It’s long enough that the moment he applies a little pressure to part your lips, you don’t flinch at all—accustomed to his touch. Maybe that was the purpose, you ponder. Maybe this was normal.

“Are you sexually active?” he asks suddenly, his fingers continuing their inspection.

Your eyes blink open into the harsh light. “No,” you mutter.

“Pardon?”

“No,” you answer, loud enough to reach him this time.

“At all?”

You shake your head. A gesture he must catch, because he doesn’t repeat his question. Instead, he hums, continuing his prodding and stroking. He mumbles something too. You’re sure of it. But you can’t bring yourself to question him, and he doesn’t repeat himself, so you assume it’s unimportant.

When the tip of his index finger brushes directly over your hole for the first time, your knees involuntarily snap shut. Or at least, they make an attempt.

He catches your thigh. “Did that hurt?”

“No. Sorry, I—”

“It’s okay,’ he says. “I’m not going inside, remember? Just touching.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, letting your legs relax again.

“Good girl.”

Your breath hitches. Your eyes fix to one spot on the ceiling. Good girl. You have to breathe again. You could breathe. You force yourself to breathe.

You’d misheard him.

This was normal.

His finger prods at your entrance, like he was testing how much pressure he would have to apply to breach you.

Then, “What do you use for menstruation?”

You blink, processing like he was speaking a foreign language you’d just started to pick up.

“Tampons? Pads?” he adds.

“Pads.”

“Have you tried tampons?”

“No.”

He hums. “And have you used any toys?”

You take a shaky breath in. “Toys?”

“Sex toys.”

His warm hand presses against your thigh, holding you spread open before him. “I… No.”

“Fingers?”

Your breathing is uneven now. You can’t control it. You’ve lost the reigns and the only thing you have to ground you is the eye-watering white light above you.

“A little.”

His finger prods, still not breaching. “A little?”

“Mm,” is all you can offer in response.

And then you feel it. His finger moves just enough to spread a little wetness across your skin.

Oh god.

Your eyes squeeze shut.

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “It’s healthy.” He’s only used one finger from the start. And it’s the same index finger that now works to spread your own humiliation up from your entrance to your mound, where he started. “It’s perfectly healthy,” he says again. “Do you know what it’s for?”

Yes. Of course you did.

You’re silent, focusing on breathing. You take a few shaky breaths. He waits.

Then, without yet understanding why, you shake your head.

His finger pauses. A heavy moment of silence. Then his chair squeaks. His breath brushes against the top of your thigh.

“It’s to reduce friction,” he says as his finger works up and down your slit. “Keeps you nice and comfortable…” His voice is different now, you realise. Distracted. “So it’s very good that you get so slippery,” he continues. “So, so healthy. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

There’s one press after that: one you are sure will push past that little cushion of resistance and slip inside.

He rolls back right at the moment you’re sure he’ll enter, separating himself from you with such a suddenness you are laying there spread wide for an embarrassing long moment before pulling your knees together.

He walks across the room. You don’t dare watch him directly, just track him through your periphery. His gloves snap off and fall into a bin.

He clears his throat.

Then he’s at your bedside. He blocks the light from above you, towering—his normal stoic expression gracing his pretty features. “Sit up for me,” he instructs, all confident professionalism again.

You tuck your knees up into your chest as you pull yourself up.

Then he reaches for his chair and tugs it around to the bedside. “Legs over the edge.”

They hang between his knees like this, and you have no escape. You’re facing him directly now. So you stare at the I.D tag on his chest as he speaks.

“Just a quick breast check. Alright?”

You immediately regret the way your eyes flash up to meet his, dropping them back to his chest as you nod.

He leans forward, right into your space, and it takes you a moment to release he’s reaching behind you to untie the flimsy little string holding your only form of protection against your body.

You grab his forearm, fingers resting against one of his many smooth scars.

His green eyes flick between your own, waiting.

Your arm drops.

His finger brushes against your bare skin as he gently pulls the thin fabric down over your shoulders.

There’s a poster on the wall behind him. A childlike drawing of a boy and a girl playing together on a swing set. You can’t make out the text. But as your doctor’s ungloved hand cups your breast for the first time, you're thinking of the last time you saw him, before all this—not as your doctor, as your playmate.

Your breathing is harder to disguise now. It’s almost more exposing than when he was between your legs. You have nowhere to hide. Your chest rises and falls as he squeezes and gropes–-examines you.

“Do you do regular self-checks?”

You shake your head.

He looks up at you. You keep your eyes fixed over his shoulder.

“You can do it when you shower,” he says. “Just like this.” His fingers press into your skin, each hand working at one breast each now. “Okay?”

You nod.

“Good g–-” His lips press together. Your eyes had snapped to his face at the word good. Quick enough to catch him stop himself.

When he stands, you assume it’s all over. You’re tugging at your gown when he settles his large hand over your wrist to stop you. Then he sits on the bed and shuffles back a little, arranging his long limbs behind you.

“Not quite done,” he says. “Lean back.”

You don’t move, unsure, despite his clear instructions. Lean back… into him?

He applies gentle pressure to your shoulder, guiding you back against his chest. And after a moment of tension, your muscles relax. This was better somehow. You couldn’t see him—weren’t forced to avoid his gaze.

But then his hand falls to your stomach, and his breath hits the shell of your ear as he looks over your shoulder at your exposed breasts. “Easier to show you like this,” he says. His large hands cup you, lifting their weight entirely from your chest. “Just wash as usual,” he starts as his thumbs brush past your nipples. “It’ll be easier when you’re all soapy and slippery. Less friction. Like I explained before. That way you can be nice and thorough. Take your time.” His grip tightens, squeezing in a way that forces you back against him. He lips brush the shell of your ear. “You can do that, can’t you?”

You nod. Then, “Yeah.” It’s a pathetic little sound. A squeak more than anything.

“Does this hurt?” he asks as he fondles you. There’s no precision in his movements now. Not like there was when he was between your legs.

“No.”

“That’s good,” he says with a hum, and you’re sure his lips brush your neck.

“I’m healthy?”

He inhales deeply, his lips touching your bare skin again. “So healthy,” he exhales. “Perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head falls back, and you go limp. You thought you’d let your muscles relax before. You’d thought wrong.

His breath continues warming your skin as he speaks—as he gropes and presses you firmly against him. “I should do one more check without gloves,” he mutters. “Just wanna make sure.”

“Mm,” you hum, feeling entirely docile now—pliant. A passenger.

One of his hands leaves your breasts and works at the fabric bunched up at your hips, so he can slip his bare hand between your legs. He barely touches you. His entire palm ghosts over your entire cunt, cradled between your thighs. Then a finger drops down, right at your hole, tapping at your slick—playing with it. Like tapping at his keys.

“Feel that?” he says from his position over your shoulder. Tap, tap, tap. “You have such a soft, healthy, drippy little hole.” His lips press against your neck, confident now. No plausible deniability. No accidental brushes. He’s kissing your neck.

Then, without warning, he dips inside. Thick and warm, guided by all your wetness. “I know you’ve never had anything in here. But you’re made for it.” His breathing is heavy. Hot against your skin. “Feel the way it sucks at my finger?” His prods you, dipping in and out, just at the entrance. “It’s all empty. Not good for you to let it get all desperate like that.”

“I—I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he soothes. “You’ve always been so good.”

His other hand lifts from your breast to your chin, then his fingers are against your lips. He almost fumbles around a little before his thumb tugs at your fuller lower lip.

“I can help you,” he mutters, breathy. “I can get it all nice and full, warm and sticky and full. It’ll be so good for you. Like medicine.”

“Medicine?” The word comes out a little wonky, distorted from his continued exploration of your lips.

“Mm,” he hums. “Medicine.”

“Mm, ‘Kay.”

He inhales again, deep and long, with his nose pressed into your skin. Then you’re being manipulated—rearranged onto your back with a scratchy pillow beneath your head. His warm hands, one wet from slick, the other from saliva, press your thighs back so you are exposed beneath him. It’s nothing new. Your eyes meet the familiar white ceiling and you cradle one breast in your palm for comfort as his large body settles between your legs.

It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he was sitting in front of you. It’s all different now. His lips are pinker—wetter. They rest a little apart, relaxed. All the controlled stoic professionalism has been replaced with… something else. Less tension. Less control. His movements aren’t careful and precise. He fumbles with his belt. He tugs a little at his tie, like it bothers him. And the entire time his eyes don’t move from your pulsing cunt.

You’re long past shame.

You ache.

And when he rests his heavy cock on you, you’re consumed. “Medicine,” you whimper.

His eyes snap to yours.

You nibble on your knuckle, unsure what to do with your hands.

When it’s clear you aren’t repeating yourself, he grips himself. “Pardon?”

Your hand snakes down your stomach, haulting at your mound, and curling into a fist before going slack. “Medicine.”

He leans forward, touching his leaking tip to your hole and applying the slightest pressure. “That’s what you need? You need your doctor to fill you up with medicine?”

His eyes fix on your lips as he nudges at your entrance, as you nod, as you suck your own finger into your mouth. “All right, sweetheart. Your doctor will make sure you stay exactly like this… just this perfect… give you lots and lots of medicine.” He slips up between your folds a few times, playing in all the wetness he’d worked so hard to tease from your hole and spread over you.

And when he’s worked himself inside, it doesn’t take long before he’s falling over you, before he’s muttering something about checking your mouth, before he’s mumbling about how healthy you taste around tangled tongues, before he’s grinding his hips into yours and telling you how important it is he gets the medicine nice and deep.

[indulgnc]

pissing off the corrupt mad scientist doctor who wants you to be scared of them by going “heeeey heeeey i think i need a checkuppppp” and flopping on their exam table like a cat

[prettypinkpumpk1ns]

doctor wearing flavored gloves while inspecting my mouth and teeth

[bashfulbottombutch]

i couldn't sleep last night because i got distracted thinking about medical kink 🙈

just... wanna find myself lying on a surgical table. naked, cold, uncomfortable, nervous. surrounded by a team of masked, scrubbed, gloved doctors

want to feel all their hands on me at once as they grope me, stroke me, tease me. their gloves feel so strange against my bare skin and my brain gets confused by the pleasure they're bringing me because it just doesn't feel quite right with that nitrile barrier between us

want them to get me all worked up, bringing me right to the edge, but never letting me slip over into bliss. want their hands to slowly settle down until my shoulders are pinned and my hips are stilled and gently, carefully, my legs are pulled apart and secured into cold, uncomfortable stirrups

and one of them takes a seat between my legs, eyes boring into my aching cunt, on full display. want to whimper and squirm as they prod at my pussy, completely unfeeling, completely clinical, despite the moans they pull out of me stroking my clit and dipping their gloved fingers into my sopping wet hole

and when they take up a syringe, i start to panic, sobbing as it disappears between my legs. struggling against the hands still holding me down, i cry out when i feel the sharp sting of an injection, whining and whimpering as my pussy starts to go numb

and when the doctor between my legs stands up again and takes out their cock, i can't help but cry. i can't feel it when they sink into me but they pull an orgasm out of me all the same, my body going through the motions of it without giving me any of the pleasure. just a swooping sensation in my stomach and a brief fading of my vision before the next doctor lines themselves up

they each fuck me, use me, make me cum without letting me really feel it, while the others hold me down, keep me still, ignoring my whines and sobs as they watch their colleagues each take a turn with me

and when they're done, when the feeling starts to come back to my pussy, i ache. i sob as my cunt throbs, as my clit twitches, swollen and oversensitive. i wait for the hands holding me down to pull away, to let it be over, but then the first doctor reappears between my legs, cock out again, stroking it as they peer down at me

"One more round should fix it," they say, plunging into me again, as the hands on me go back to groping, eager to overwhelm me as they wait for their turn...

❌ dni cis men, minors, terfs or ageless blogs ❌

[theghostofjayne]

doctor who reassures your parents that it’s okay if you come into the room on your own, who sits on his chair and instructs you to take your clothes off, hushing you when you ask why, reminding you that they’re a professional, who gets you to lay on the examination table and open your legs, placing a gloved hand on your lower tummy with little pressure…

‘just a little wider for me… there you go’

doctor who slides cold tools inside you, prodding and stretching you out while he ‘hmm’s at himself until he uses that same gloved hand to slide two fingers inside you, making you squirm and blush bc no one has done that to you before, and it makes you feel all tingly down there, you put a hand over your mouth when you notice little involuntary moans coming out and you don’t want the doctor to notice, still feeling his fingers moving inside you and you can’t stop the overwhelming feeling come over you he starts to move faster, your body shaking and try to push him away but it’s too late, you let out a much louder moan when you start to cum all over his fingers, panting and heart racing out of your chest, once the doctor removes his fingers you feel empty again, his gloved hand shiny from how wet you are and he examines the evidence, slides the glove off and throwing it in the bin before turning to you and letting you know you can put your clothes back on while he finishes his notes.

[nosoc0mial]

Routine inspections. Uncomfortable and lengthy, once a week. The doctor makes me strip naked for him every time, and it's freezing in his office. He inspects my breasts, my abdomen, my skin. Comments on my weight and posture before pulling my legs into stirrups. From there, it's a pelvic exam. The leather restraints go around my wrists and thighs. It goes like this every time. I wish he would stop, but he's not going to. He probes me, inserts a speculum, measures me, all while I can't move away. The doctor's gloved fingers slide again and rub my clitoris. I struggle, and he calmly notes how I'm responding to him. By the end of the examination I'm forced to orgasm by his hand. The doctor frees me from the table, and hands me a wipe to clean myself up with, as I've been left dripping wet. He tells me he'll see me next week at the same time. I know I have to keep coming back, and I will. Until he says that I'm cured.

[applefishing]

medical kink with zayne doctor/patient, dubcon, cum as medicine

You’ve only been seeing him a few weeks when he suggests you have a full checkup. He's calm, composed and professional when he explains exactly what that means, and it should be completely normal.

But he's not just your doctor. The unspoken agreement to ignore the relationship you shared as children during each appointment has suited you perfectly fine. But as he hands you a small thin gown and draws the curtains around the small bed so you can change, you suddenly find yourself wishing you’d faced the elephant in the room before now.

The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard is the only accompaniment to your undressing. And it’s only when you hook your thumbs into the elastic of your underwear that you find your voice. “Do you think… maybe I should see another doctor for this?”

He stops typing. Silence, 1… 2…

A draw slams.

Your nails dig into your hips as you jump, startled.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says. Calm. Matter of fact. Final. “Are you ready?”

You quickly let your underwear drop and slip into the flimsy hospital gown. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… ready.”

You blink into the light as the curtain is pulled back, exposing you the full glare of the fluorescents.

A large shadow offers you a little relief.

“Lie down for me, please,” he instructs as he snaps a pair of blue gloves onto his hands.

It starts just as you expect, you lace your fingers together across your stomach and stare at the white ceiling and pretend it’s normal to have your childhood friend positioning himself between your legs under bright fluorescents at 10 in the morning, or at all.

He parts your thighs with gentle confidence. “It’s just a quick look,” he says. “Nothing invasive. Try and stay still for me.”

You nod, closing your eyes to seek a little false privacy.

His chair squeaks as he adjusts himself between your legs, but apart from a hand on your thigh, he doesn’t touch you. The air hits you, remining you of your starkness, and it’s unlike anything else, that feeling of exposure.

You attempt to keep your breathing steady, to match his own.

Then his chair squeaks again, and you can feel he’s closer. So close his breath warms the skin of your thighs. “Mm,” he hums, “just a little cold from the gloves now.”

You hold your breath. The chair squeaks. And despite your best efforts, you flinch at the light brush of his gloves. It’s not from the cold. In fact, they aren’t cold at all. You can feel the warmth of his hands through the plastic. But you were expecting something a little more assured, firm, purposeful.

This touch is light. So light it almost tickles.

“It’s alright,” he says. “Just do your best to stay still.”

You suck in a deep breath, and his finger returns. Still far too light. One single, continuous stroke from your mound to your entrance. Feather-light.

That’s how he touches you for what feels like minutes.

It’s long enough that the moment he applies a little pressure to part your lips, you don’t flinch at all—accustomed to his touch. Maybe that was the purpose, you ponder. Maybe this was normal.

“Are you sexually active?” he asks suddenly, his fingers continuing their inspection.

Your eyes blink open into the harsh light. “No,” you mutter.

“Pardon?”

“No,” you answer, loud enough to reach him this time.

“At all?”

You shake your head. A gesture he must catch, because he doesn’t repeat his question. Instead, he hums, continuing his prodding and stroking. He mumbles something too. You’re sure of it. But you can’t bring yourself to question him, and he doesn’t repeat himself, so you assume it’s unimportant.

When the tip of his index finger brushes directly over your hole for the first time, your knees involuntarily snap shut. Or at least, they make an attempt.

He catches your thigh. “Did that hurt?”

“No. Sorry, I—”

“It’s okay,’ he says. “I’m not going inside, remember? Just touching.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, letting your legs relax again.

“Good girl.”

Your breath hitches. Your eyes fix to one spot on the ceiling. Good girl. You have to breathe again. You could breathe. You force yourself to breathe.

You’d misheard him.

This was normal.

His finger prods at your entrance, like he was testing how much pressure he would have to apply to breach you.

Then, “What do you use for menstruation?”

You blink, processing like he was speaking a foreign language you’d just started to pick up.

“Tampons? Pads?” he adds.

“Pads.”

“Have you tried tampons?”

“No.”

He hums. “And have you used any toys?”

You take a shaky breath in. “Toys?”

“Sex toys.”

His warm hand presses against your thigh, holding you spread open before him. “I… No.”

“Fingers?”

Your breathing is uneven now. You can’t control it. You’ve lost the reigns and the only thing you have to ground you is the eye-watering white light above you.

“A little.”

His finger prods, still not breaching. “A little?”

“Mm,” is all you can offer in response.

And then you feel it. His finger moves just enough to spread a little wetness across your skin.

Oh god.

Your eyes squeeze shut.

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “It’s healthy.” He’s only used one finger from the start. And it’s the same index finger that now works to spread your own humiliation up from your entrance to your mound, where he started. “It’s perfectly healthy,” he says again. “Do you know what it’s for?”

Yes. Of course you did.

You’re silent, focusing on breathing. You take a few shaky breaths. He waits.

Then, without yet understanding why, you shake your head.

His finger pauses. A heavy moment of silence. Then his chair squeaks. His breath brushes against the top of your thigh.

“It’s to reduce friction,” he says as his finger works up and down your slit. “Keeps you nice and comfortable…” His voice is different now, you realise. Distracted. “So it’s very good that you get so slippery,” he continues. “So, so healthy. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

There’s one press after that: one you are sure will push past that little cushion of resistance and slip inside.

He rolls back right at the moment you’re sure he’ll enter, separating himself from you with such a suddenness you are laying there spread wide for an embarrassing long moment before pulling your knees together.

He walks across the room. You don’t dare watch him directly, just track him through your periphery. His gloves snap off and fall into a bin.

He clears his throat.

Then he’s at your bedside. He blocks the light from above you, towering—his normal stoic expression gracing his pretty features. “Sit up for me,” he instructs, all confident professionalism again.

You tuck your knees up into your chest as you pull yourself up.

Then he reaches for his chair and tugs it around to the bedside. “Legs over the edge.”

They hang between his knees like this, and you have no escape. You’re facing him directly now. So you stare at the I.D tag on his chest as he speaks.

“Just a quick breast check. Alright?”

You immediately regret the way your eyes flash up to meet his, dropping them back to his chest as you nod.

He leans forward, right into your space, and it takes you a moment to release he’s reaching behind you to untie the flimsy little string holding your only form of protection against your body.

You grab his forearm, fingers resting against one of his many smooth scars.

His green eyes flick between your own, waiting.

Your arm drops.

His finger brushes against your bare skin as he gently pulls the thin fabric down over your shoulders.

There’s a poster on the wall behind him. A childlike drawing of a boy and a girl playing together on a swing set. You can’t make out the text. But as your doctor’s ungloved hand cups your breast for the first time, you're thinking of the last time you saw him, before all this—not as your doctor, as your playmate.

Your breathing is harder to disguise now. It’s almost more exposing than when he was between your legs. You have nowhere to hide. Your chest rises and falls as he squeezes and gropes–-examines you.

“Do you do regular self-checks?”

You shake your head.

He looks up at you. You keep your eyes fixed over his shoulder.

“You can do it when you shower,” he says. “Just like this.” His fingers press into your skin, each hand working at one breast each now. “Okay?”

You nod.

“Good g–-” His lips press together. Your eyes had snapped to his face at the word good. Quick enough to catch him stop himself.

When he stands, you assume it’s all over. You’re tugging at your gown when he settles his large hand over your wrist to stop you. Then he sits on the bed and shuffles back a little, arranging his long limbs behind you.

“Not quite done,” he says. “Lean back.”

You don’t move, unsure, despite his clear instructions. Lean back… into him?

He applies gentle pressure to your shoulder, guiding you back against his chest. And after a moment of tension, your muscles relax. This was better somehow. You couldn’t see him—weren’t forced to avoid his gaze.

But then his hand falls to your stomach, and his breath hits the shell of your ear as he looks over your shoulder at your exposed breasts. “Easier to show you like this,” he says. His large hands cup you, lifting their weight entirely from your chest. “Just wash as usual,” he starts as his thumbs brush past your nipples. “It’ll be easier when you’re all soapy and slippery. Less friction. Like I explained before. That way you can be nice and thorough. Take your time.” His grip tightens, squeezing in a way that forces you back against him. He lips brush the shell of your ear. “You can do that, can’t you?”

You nod. Then, “Yeah.” It’s a pathetic little sound. A squeak more than anything.

“Does this hurt?” he asks as he fondles you. There’s no precision in his movements now. Not like there was when he was between your legs.

“No.”

“That’s good,” he says with a hum, and you’re sure his lips brush your neck.

“I’m healthy?”

He inhales deeply, his lips touching your bare skin again. “So healthy,” he exhales. “Perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head falls back, and you go limp. You thought you’d let your muscles relax before. You’d thought wrong.

His breath continues warming your skin as he speaks—as he gropes and presses you firmly against him. “I should do one more check without gloves,” he mutters. “Just wanna make sure.”

“Mm,” you hum, feeling entirely docile now—pliant. A passenger.

One of his hands leaves your breasts and works at the fabric bunched up at your hips, so he can slip his bare hand between your legs. He barely touches you. His entire palm ghosts over your entire cunt, cradled between your thighs. Then a finger drops down, right at your hole, tapping at your slick—playing with it. Like tapping at his keys.

“Feel that?” he says from his position over your shoulder. Tap, tap, tap. “You have such a soft, healthy, drippy little hole.” His lips press against your neck, confident now. No plausible deniability. No accidental brushes. He’s kissing your neck.

Then, without warning, he dips inside. Thick and warm, guided by all your wetness. “I know you’ve never had anything in here. But you’re made for it.” His breathing is heavy. Hot against your skin. “Feel the way it sucks at my finger?” His prods you, dipping in and out, just at the entrance. “It’s all empty. Not good for you to let it get all desperate like that.”

“I—I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he soothes. “You’ve always been so good.”

His other hand lifts from your breast to your chin, then his fingers are against your lips. He almost fumbles around a little before his thumb tugs at your fuller lower lip.

“I can help you,” he mutters, breathy. “I can get it all nice and full, warm and sticky and full. It’ll be so good for you. Like medicine.”

“Medicine?” The word comes out a little wonky, distorted from his continued exploration of your lips.

“Mm,” he hums. “Medicine.”

“Mm, ‘Kay.”

He inhales again, deep and long, with his nose pressed into your skin. Then you’re being manipulated—rearranged onto your back with a scratchy pillow beneath your head. His warm hands, one wet from slick, the other from saliva, press your thighs back so you are exposed beneath him. It’s nothing new. Your eyes meet the familiar white ceiling and you cradle one breast in your palm for comfort as his large body settles between your legs.

It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he was sitting in front of you. It’s all different now. His lips are pinker—wetter. They rest a little apart, relaxed. All the controlled stoic professionalism has been replaced with… something else. Less tension. Less control. His movements aren’t careful and precise. He fumbles with his belt. He tugs a little at his tie, like it bothers him. And the entire time his eyes don’t move from your pulsing cunt.

You’re long past shame.

You ache.

And when he rests his heavy cock on you, you’re consumed. “Medicine,” you whimper.

His eyes snap to yours.

You nibble on your knuckle, unsure what to do with your hands.

When it’s clear you aren’t repeating yourself, he grips himself. “Pardon?”

Your hand snakes down your stomach, haulting at your mound, and curling into a fist before going slack. “Medicine.”

He leans forward, touching his leaking tip to your hole and applying the slightest pressure. “That’s what you need? You need your doctor to fill you up with medicine?”

His eyes fix on your lips as he nudges at your entrance, as you nod, as you suck your own finger into your mouth. “All right, sweetheart. Your doctor will make sure you stay exactly like this… just this perfect… give you lots and lots of medicine.” He slips up between your folds a few times, playing in all the wetness he’d worked so hard to tease from your hole and spread over you.

And when he’s worked himself inside, it doesn’t take long before he’s falling over you, before he’s muttering something about checking your mouth, before he’s mumbling about how healthy you taste around tangled tongues, before he’s grinding his hips into yours and telling you how important it is he gets the medicine nice and deep.

[m-at-night]

is it bad that i want to do a doctor scene so bad, like i want to have my pussy inspected to make sure i've been stimulating my clit and my pussy is always wet so i'm ready to be fucked. i want the doctor to stick his finger in me to see how many i can take without stretching and laugh at me when i moan. i wanna be tied to the table and told it's a routine check up and then have them open me up with a speculum and bully my gspot with their fingers while they tape a vibrator to my clit. maybe they'll track how long it takes me to get close to orgasm just for them to stop and wait for me to calm down before they start again. maybe they'll put a vibrating plug in my ass or fuck it with a dildo, check and see if anal pleasure is at good levels. maybe they'll talk amongst themselves and note how easy i am after being praised or how wet and whiny i get after they mock me and call me pathetic for liking this. it's just a routine checkup after all

[assumemyposition]

I feel like medplay and intrest/kinks about teeth/mouth/dentistry is becoming so performative and its making me sad