avalon - 21 - MDNI

he/him - cer/cers certified deer nerd pfp done through picrew by @crowesn

[sunlit-moss]

also don’t get me started on quintessence manipulation do you know how hot that would be for intox play. aether giving you a massage and working quintessence into your muscles, relaxing you bit by bit until you nearly collapse bc you’re so sleepy and your body is so heavy and you’re so loopy and—

feeling big hands on your body, starting at your hips and slipping under your shirt to grab at your waist and running up to your ribs, and the hands are so warm and they feel so nice, and it’s the only thing you can think about. your thoughts are all jammed and the only ones slipping through are about how nice this is. aether would probably keep the massage going, too, although he’d be working quintessence into significantly more intimate areas. thinking about him working on your thighs, where he just can’t resist the urge, and decides that a little bite on your inner thigh won’t hurt, not when you’re like this…

the biggest reaction he gets is whining and squirming, which he loves. he’s so gentle about it, but he’s still plenty possessive. all ghouls are. but goddd it’s different with him, the way he grabs your waist and tells you to be good for him while he’s making you feel good. ghgghgh

[sunlit-moss]

so like what if i started talking about copia lowkey being a cuck

like hear me out

copia who will punish his partner by not allowing them his touch, instead talking a ghoul through administering their punishment

it’s aether, btw, i have to emphasize that it’s aether. i just keep thinking about copia talking aether through completely ruining his partner. the entire time, he’s making sure that he can see his partner’s face as they’re edged or overstimulated, fucked dumb either way, and having to control himself because the whole point is that he isn’t touching them. not yet, anyway.

on the other side of things, aether with absurd stamina who is constantly whispering praise into copia’s partner’s ear, making sure they know that they’re taking the punishment so well, that they’re being so good for him. copia only allowing it because he loves how his partner looks when they’re overwhelmed. copia telling aether that they’re almost done and he’s free to set his own pace for a bit; aether taking the opportunity to totally wreck copia’s partner because he knows copia will be thinking about their pretty cries and tear stained cheeks for ages.

copia’s partner who, after the fact, while being tended to by both copia and aether, meekly suggests that they wouldn’t mind taking both at once

[sunlit-moss]

some things on creek: he’s a water ghoul with some minor quint traits (instead of using quintessence to heal others, he can use water) he plays the same instruments as i do (piano, violin), and he greatly enjoys time in the greenhouse and library. his main role lies in administrative work (assistant to copia), but he also takes volunteer work in the library and infirmary. he’s closest with cumulus, aether, and mountain, and can often be found infiltrating their rooms and curling up in their nests. creek’s design is based off of seals and deer; seals because they’re aquatic mammals that i really like, and deer because they’re typically found in forests and grasslands, much like creeks (the body of water, not the ghoul)

im him and he’s me, so i like writing about him in situations

[lucifixion-pose]

opened tumblr to make a post and/or send a message about perverted copia and the FIRST thing on my dash was your desire pathways post. it was meant to be

anyway— perverted cardinal copia with a newly summoned ghoul (definitely not my ghoul oc) as his assistant, ordering the ghoul around and running him ragged. he loves the way the ghoul always looks to him for instructions before doing anything, and he loves watching the ghoul do nearly impossible tasks. it comes to a head one day after copia issues a particularly ridiculous order and the ghoul explains that, no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t do it. so copia has him do something else instead.

now this could be absolutely anything from a menial task to something equally as absurd, I actually had something particular in mind after seeing copia in his white suit and with his cane. and oh boy does it involve the cane.

copia who, despite how good the ghoul has been, has been itching to punish him. instead of dismissing the impossible task, he makes the ghoul come to his office in the middle of the night and strip— he should trust copia fully, after all— and (obviously) get on his knees. what i haven’t decided, though, is whether copia should cane the ghoul’s back or thighs. im thinking thighs because it would make it hard for the ghoul to sit and relax between tasks for a while, which would probably lead to a decline in performance and give copia a reason to do it again.

anyway perverted and kinda evil cardinal copia 🤤🤤

-avalon/creek

Oh, no question it's gotta be the thighs. If someone tried to cane my back I would murder them, but the thighs??

Spending the next few days unable to sit comfortably, constantly reminded of how you'd been bent over in front of him, totally exposed and helpless?

Knowing that the Cardinal is a kind man, but that doesn't mean he's nice, or that he'll allow seemingly minor infractions to slip?

You protest, saying it was just a small mistake, not daring to say he's overreacting, but certainly thinking it loudly...then you find out he's been keeping a running tally of so many small mistakes.

He's been so gracious with you, so patient, and has finally come to the difficult conclusion that you clearly won't learn on your own and thus it falls to him to correct your behavior. He doesn't want to do this; he has to, don't you see?

Maybe he's just sitting back in his chair, totally aloof and seemingly bored by the sight of you trembling and whimpering after each hit, the only hint that he feels anything but a strictly professional need to keep things running smoothly the blush creeping up his neck, so obvious against that stark white fabric.

The cane striking is always preceded by him running it across your skin, gently tapping around, as if he's divining the perfect place for it to land, the exact spot that will make you act right. After the first few hits you manage to stop trying to squirm away, shifting your senses to focus solely on him to try and figure out what he expects of you, what's going on behind those strange, knowing eyes.

Maybe he grants you a few words of praise, if your behavior warrants such generosity. You're trying so hard to please him —doesn't he see that?

By the end just the sound of the cane shifting against his gloves makes you whimper in anticipation. If he notices how obviously turned on you are and how the sounds you make shifted from pain and fear to outright arousal, he doesn't remark on it. He simply dismisses you and watches you dress, and you don't even catch his eyes flicking downward, taking all of you in.

The other ghouls notice how stiffly you're carrying yourself, notice you pointedly not sitting, notice you wincing if you have to take a seat, and they definitely notice your face flushing hot when you say it's nothing and try to change the subject.

You subtly ask around, trying to find out if this is just how the Cardinal keeps all his ghouls in line and find out no, it's just you that received this punishment. The Cardinal has singled you out for this specific brand of attention.

You're the only one that's had to carry the pink and red bruised stripes all up and down your thighs. The only one left with skin so hot and tender that just your clothing shifting makes you all too aware of what he did to you. How he marked you.

Are you just that unruly, that disobedient and incapable, that you're the only one who's deserved it, or...is there another reason?

Why does he seem to be avoiding meeting your eyes now? Why do you catch him staring at you over and over, only for him to look away, stammering for a moment to whoever he was talking to as his cheeks color ever so slightly?

Will he need to call you in again?

Did you really learn your lesson?

[lucifixion-pose]

opened tumblr to make a post and/or send a message about perverted copia and the FIRST thing on my dash was your desire pathways post. it was meant to be

anyway— perverted cardinal copia with a newly summoned ghoul (definitely not my ghoul oc) as his assistant, ordering the ghoul around and running him ragged. he loves the way the ghoul always looks to him for instructions before doing anything, and he loves watching the ghoul do nearly impossible tasks. it comes to a head one day after copia issues a particularly ridiculous order and the ghoul explains that, no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t do it. so copia has him do something else instead.

now this could be absolutely anything from a menial task to something equally as absurd, I actually had something particular in mind after seeing copia in his white suit and with his cane. and oh boy does it involve the cane.

copia who, despite how good the ghoul has been, has been itching to punish him. instead of dismissing the impossible task, he makes the ghoul come to his office in the middle of the night and strip— he should trust copia fully, after all— and (obviously) get on his knees. what i haven’t decided, though, is whether copia should cane the ghoul’s back or thighs. im thinking thighs because it would make it hard for the ghoul to sit and relax between tasks for a while, which would probably lead to a decline in performance and give copia a reason to do it again.

anyway perverted and kinda evil cardinal copia 🤤🤤

-avalon/creek

Oh, no question it's gotta be the thighs. If someone tried to cane my back I would murder them, but the thighs??

Spending the next few days unable to sit comfortably, constantly reminded of how you'd been bent over in front of him, totally exposed and helpless?

Knowing that the Cardinal is a kind man, but that doesn't mean he's nice, or that he'll allow seemingly minor infractions to slip?

You protest, saying it was just a small mistake, not daring to say he's overreacting, but certainly thinking it loudly...then you find out he's been keeping a running tally of so many small mistakes.

He's been so gracious with you, so patient, and has finally come to the difficult conclusion that you clearly won't learn on your own and thus it falls to him to correct your behavior. He doesn't want to do this; he has to, don't you see?

Maybe he's just sitting back in his chair, totally aloof and seemingly bored by the sight of you trembling and whimpering after each hit, the only hint that he feels anything but a strictly professional need to keep things running smoothly the blush creeping up his neck, so obvious against that stark white fabric.

The cane striking is always preceded by him running it across your skin, gently tapping around, as if he's divining the perfect place for it to land, the exact spot that will make you act right. After the first few hits you manage to stop trying to squirm away, shifting your senses to focus solely on him to try and figure out what he expects of you, what's going on behind those strange, knowing eyes.

Maybe he grants you a few words of praise, if your behavior warrants such generosity. You're trying so hard to please him —doesn't he see that?

By the end just the sound of the cane shifting against his gloves makes you whimper in anticipation. If he notices how obviously turned on you are and how the sounds you make shifted from pain and fear to outright arousal, he doesn't remark on it. He simply dismisses you and watches you dress, and you don't even catch his eyes flicking downward, taking all of you in.

The other ghouls notice how stiffly you're carrying yourself, notice you pointedly not sitting, notice you wincing if you have to take a seat, and they definitely notice your face flushing hot when you say it's nothing and try to change the subject.

You subtly ask around, trying to find out if this is just how the Cardinal keeps all his ghouls in line and find out no, it's just you that received this punishment. The Cardinal has singled you out for this specific brand of attention.

You're the only one that's had to carry the pink and red bruised stripes all up and down your thighs. The only one left with skin so hot and tender that just your clothing shifting makes you all too aware of what he did to you. How he marked you.

Are you just that unruly, that disobedient and incapable, that you're the only one who's deserved it, or...is there another reason?

Why does he seem to be avoiding meeting your eyes now? Why do you catch him staring at you over and over, only for him to look away, stammering for a moment to whoever he was talking to as his cheeks color ever so slightly?

Will he need to call you in again?

Did you really learn your lesson?

[sunlit-moss]

but anyway i was thinking about white suit cardinal copia being mad horny on stage and thinking about how my ghoul would take being caned as a punishment. and i was thinking about a copia who would run him ragged in order to get him to mess up just so he could punish him.

so of course i started thinking about the two combined and came up with the wonderful idea of creek being called to copia’s office one evening after failing to complete one of his tasks adequately. maybe he’d taken too long, done it wrong, whatever— he didn’t live up to copia’s standards. and of course hes incredibly apologetic, but copia shakes his head and tells him to take his shirt and coat off. then his shoes. then his pants. until all he’s wearing is his underwear, and the rest of him is completely exposed. and then he’s told to kneel, and keep his hands in front of him.

hes obviously nervous. with copia circling him like a shark and the cane tapping the ground echoing through the otherwise silent room, it would be hard to not be nervous. but when copia’s hand rests on his shoulder, using him as leverage to kneel down and get on his eye level, he thinks it’ll probably be okay! it must have been a scare tactic!

and then copia brings out rope or handcuffs, something to bind the ghoul’s hands, and creek’s stomach drops. something something tying his hands to copia’s desk and making him count while he takes hit after hit from copia’s cane. it feels like hours and hundreds of hits, but it’s only a few seconds and ten impacts. creek is crying by the end— he has no pain tolerance yet— and, after being unbound, buries his face in copia’s shoulder. copia “comforts” him with gentle words, praising him for taking it so well, gently rubbing around the redness; but obviously sets up for this to happen again. “you understand, no? this is what happens when you do something the wrong way.”

and sure enough, he gets more nitpicky and introduces other forms of punishment. less severe ones, of course, like bending the ghoul over his desk, having the ghoul sit under his desk during meetings.. etc etc i want that old man.

[sunlit-moss]

i need that old man and i need him bad. tormenting my poor ghoul oc by making him an assistant so he goes wherever he’s needed— running errands for papa or frater or cardinal copia, whatever era i decide he’s in for the day. but most importantly, he’s more than an assistant; he’s basically a stress toy because I Need That Old Man and I Know he’s stressed all the time. so basically I’ve just been writing bullshit in my notes app about my oc getting railed or degraded or punished or whatever because im living vicariously through him and wishing that one day i could be a ghoul in the ministry and also kind of a pass around party bottom also in the ministry. i write abt him and terzo, copia, perpetua; him and half the ghouls, even him and some ghouls i made up for my d&d campaign. hes a slut but also everything i write exists independently of each other so hes also an inexperienced freak who stands out compared to the rest of the ghouls

[coco-monster]

Creature Perpetua Month 2026 for the lovely @lycanthra! This was also the other half of the tie from the Vampire Mary Goore fic from the poll. Y'all wanted bloody and you're getting it, so be forewarned. Also the "creature" side is deliberately ambiguous, so feel free to self-insert wolfy or what-have-you vibes as much as you like.

Also goes out to @virberos for their prompt ask!❤️

Bloody chase with V- f!reader

I know my love can be the killing kind

Elongated limbs and deafening screeches were quickly gaining on you as your exertion crept into your muscles, aching and burning as you ran. He’d warned you he wouldn’t be able to control himself, that his darker nature would completely eclipse him and as always, he asked if you were willing to put yourself in such danger. Danger, he called it. Truthfully you knew he would never do you real harm but oh how he loved the hunt. Said it made the richness in your blood utterly divine in such delightfully depraved ways. So you would play into this, especially intensely, for him. You knew how badly he needed this, how much he craved you. You would let him chase you. Hunt you. Feast on you. 

You’d all but convinced yourself you were in real danger. That the threat of the creature stalking you through the halls was real. The library offered a maze of shelves and you hoped it would buy you some sort of time to hide, knowing full well he would find you regardless. 

“You can’t hide forever,” a harsh, guttural voice called out. There was a shocking lack of commonality to his usual tone, which was always animated but remained quite calm. Now, it was completely devoid of anything other than insidious mockery.

Ducking behind a bookcase, you held your breath as you tried to figure out where he was, how close to danger you really were.

“I can smell you, pet,” Perpetua called out. “That scent of yours. Your sweat, your fear. But your want... Oh you filthy little thing.”

This should feel terrifying, depraved even, but you knew as well as he did how badly you wanted this. Not even just for his satisfaction, but your own sick, twisted fantasies. The clattering sounds of books and papers being swept from one of the tables echoed through the library, making you yelp in surprise. Immediately a dark chuckle rumbled from behind you. 

“If you’re planning to run, now would be your chance, pet. I’ll even let you get a few steps in before I devour you.”

You knew this was a lie. You know the moment you showed yourself, he’d be on you immediately. Still, you couldn’t help yourself and you leapt forward, sprinting towards the next row of bookcases and even managed to almost make it halfway before something shoved you forward, sending you crashing to the ground. A clawed hand gripped your ankle, pulling you backwards as you screamed, knowing no one would hear you, let alone coming looking. You flipped onto your back, trying to kick yourself away from his steel grip, but he dragged you along the floor with uncanny ease, letting out a sickening laugh as if your pathetic attempts to defend yourself offered quite the amusement. 

“Look at you,” he snarled, letting his gaze trail over your body. “So small, so weak.”

Pinning you beneath him, he hovered above you, eyeing every inch like a lion sizing up his prey. At this distance, his transformation was even more obvious; his green eye glowing ominously while the white burned into you with an otherworldly intensity. His teeth, fangs, were so long that his jaw stretched to an unnatural shape to accommodate them, the ends tapered to razor sharp points. His hair a tangled, frenzied mess of curls. For a moment, he simply held you down, your wrists pinned to the sides of your head as he swayed slightly, his back rounded deeply as he loomed above you. 

Tears poured from your eyes before you could stop them as you tried to wriggle free and for a moment, there was a flicker across his eyes that mirrored the gaze you’d met a hundred, maybe a thousand, times before- Perpetua. Your Perpetua. It was a look of fear, like he’d taken this too far, beyond the point of no return. And truthfully, he had. But you wanted this. For him. For yourself. He needed you to give in to this beastly, carnal energy he’d been too afraid to show you until now. And you were more than willing.

Slowly, you nodded, a barely perceptible tip of your head, but just enough to show your submission, your sanction of this unholy sacrament given in blood. That was the final show of consent he needed as he immediately dove into you with a snarl, his fangs sinking into the flesh of your shoulder, sending a cascade of blood pouring from the wound. Did you scream? Had you made any sound at all? All at once your senses seemed to fail you, the world around you slipping away as a feverish fog clouded your thoughts. There was a surprising lack of serious pain, only a slight stinging, burning sensation that intensified when he began to suck harder at the wound, one clawed hand digging into your hair to wrench your head backward for better access.

Suddenly, there was no more pain, no discomfort. Instead, a warm wave of euphoria began to wash over you as his claws scraped against your scalp, his teeth sinking deeper into the meat of your shoulder. You reached up, stroking his hair for only a moment before his hand yanked your back to the floor as he growled against your throat, pulling away from the wound with a sickening wet squelch. Turning his mouth to your ear, he spoke in a dangerous murmur. 

“You are mine. You understand? Mine.”

Sitting back against his heels, blood seeping freely from his mouth, he unbuttoned your blouse, letting the fabric fall to your sides. As he ran his claws over your stomach, he let out a pleased moan as you lifted your hips just enough to press yourself against his stiffened cock. The lace bralette was nothing but a thin layer of fabric which shredded the moment his fingers raked across it, exposing your breasts to the cool air. 

Dipping a finger into his mouth, he brought the claw to your hip, drawing two diagonal lines that met at a point. V. He repeated the sigil several times across your body, marking you, branding you with his name in your own lifeblood. Several times his claw nicked your skin, drawing the smallest trace of crimson but he was quick to lap up any trace, sucking obscenely as he began to rut against you. 

“Filthy, filthy little thing you are. My filthy little doll.”

“Yours,” you whimpered, your voice so weak it was barely audible. 

He was more monster than you’d ever seen him but more importantly, he was more himself than you’d ever seen. This is what he was afraid to show you, as if somehow the brutality would be enough to scare you away. Yet he had no idea who he was dealing with. 

You reached out, holding a trembling hand to his mouth, tracing along his fangs and collecting the blood across your fingertips. This time he let you touch him, watching in morbid fascination as you mapped out these new features on a face you thought you knew so well. With your hands slick with blood, you grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking his face down to yours. Streams of thick crimson dripped across your lips as you pulled his gaping maw close.

“Then take me.”

A long, snaking tongue extended from his jaws, licking the blood from your lips before trailing down to your throat. In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your pants to your ankles as his bloodied hands drew a gory path to your aching sex.

“Careful now,” he hissed, sliding a claw along your entrance, stroking along your swollen clit. If you moved in the slightest, the threat of agony was very, very real and for the first time you felt a sickened knot in your stomach. 

“Mmm, how pliant you are, my little pet. How well you heed my words.” Replacing his claw with the pad of his finger, he pressed roughly against your clit, sending a shooting throb of pleasure to your core and making you gasp. 

“Ahh,” he let out a rumbling chuckle. “There you are.”

As he was rearing back, you heard the clinking of his belt as he undid his trousers. In his regular form, he was already large enough to test your limits, you could only imagine what other beastly changes occurred. Hooking his arm under your belly he lifted you effortlessly onto his lap, pressing your back to his chest. At first he seemed content to let you writhe against him, your naked body sticky with sweat and blood, feeling the rabid heat radiating from his skin. His mouth once again found the wound on your shoulder as his tongue lapped at the now-congealing liquid before he leaned back, letting his cock press against your spine.

Sweet Satan, his size. 

Behind you, you heard him spit into his palm as his hand stroked along his intimidating and impressive length, coating it in a lurid mixture of blood and drool while his other arm lifted you upward to align with your entrance. 

“You were made for me. You were made for me to bury my cock inside you and you’re going to take every inch. You belong to me.”

You let out a whining moan as his tip teased at your entrance, already sopping wet with your arousal. For as badly as you knew he needed this, you knew you did as well. His perfect, subservient little pet.

“You are mine.”

Jolting himself upward, he fucked into you, stretching your walls with exquisite agony but still mercifully allowing you time to accommodate the change in size. And fuck what a change it was. You knew he was holding back, his panting, desperate growls and claws digging into the flesh of your thighs. Part of you wished he would simply split you in two but the other part knew you being unconscious wouldn’t be good for either of you. With a snap of his hips, he sank further into you, making you cry out as he angled you forward, coaxing you onto your hands and knees as he gripped your waist. 

One hand clawed down your spine, surely leaving welts and scratches in their wake, while the other dug into the curve of your ass, his thrusts becoming deeper as you both became more ferocious with your movements. You arched your back, pushing yourself backwards against him to take him into your heat, feeling more full than you ever had before. Your own moans were becoming more guttural, more akin to the growls freely erupting from Perpetua’s throat as he fucked into you relentlessly. 

In another mind-numbingly swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, sitting up as he pulled your hips tighter against him. From this angle you could see just how deep he was buried, your stomach swelling and pulsing as his cock strained against your walls. The sight was enough to push you over the edge as your legs began to tremble violently as pleasure coiled within your core. 

Sensing your release, he leaned over you onto his palms, rutting into you at full force- impossibly fast, impossibly deep. His tongue roughly lapped against your face, so brutally animalistic and feral in his attempt to claim every inch of you for his own. One arm hooked under your leg, bending you nearly in half as he completely sheathed himself with your cunt. Your throat burned from your screams but caught in your throat as you felt a swell at the base of his cock, inflating at your entrance and stretching you even more than you thought possible. Reaching down he stroked mindlessly at your clit, finally sending you over the edge even as his claws raked against your thighs as you clamped your legs around his hips. 

With a final, ear-splitting roar, his own pleasure crashed into him, a flood of heat filling you, spilling inside of you and being sealed completely by his knot. His frantic, awkward thrusts faltered as he leaned his head to yours, eyes clamped shut as he panted. 

Your entire body trembled, you struggled to catch your breath, even more so with the weight of his body on top of you, but you didn’t dare move a muscle. Your eyes stayed closed, eventually feeling his hands thread into yours. His hand. Completely absent of claws. 

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open to see Perpetua’s gaze intently focused on your face. Your Perpetua. His features in all their familiarity were largely back to normal from what you saw but he also looked…terrified.

“V,” you said quietly, your voice still ragged but adding tenderness in your nickname for him. “I’m okay. I promise.”

His eyes darted doubtfully between yours before falling to the wound on your shoulder, making him wince in disgust. 

“Hey,” you stressed, reaching up with shaking hands to grasp his face. “I wanted this. I wanted to do this for you.”

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours gently for a moment, chuckling as your lips briefly stuck together from the tacky blood still coating both of your mouths.

“I guess we should get you cleaned up. You filthy little thing.”

[sunlit-moss]

[lucifixion-pose]

Perpetua’s cologne transfers very well to fabric and stays on it for a very long time. Source: sprayed it on my pillow

made me think about a possessive perpetua who sprays his cologne on things before giving them to you. ie a hoodie, shirt, other gifts, etc. as a way of making sure others know you’re his, OR an obsessive perpetua who straight up goes into your room just to make it smell like him and make you think about him. it’s one of those things where you *think* it’s your idea, you can’t get him off your mind, but it’s all going according to his plan and he gets giddy every time he sees you staring because he knows exactly why you’re staring

same anon (although not technically anonymous anymore) as b4 i might just start leaving stuff here. in that case ill sign off lol

avalon 🦌

Hey can I steal this because it gave me Big Ideas ◉_◉

All I'm sayin' is my Vampire Perpetua is already an established cologne-wearer and this could slot in REAL FUCKIN' NICE to his upcoming sequel.

He's already a nasty little man and this is something that could make him even more of a nasty little freak 😩

[sunlit-moss]

YES go ahead hehehe

[sunlit-moss]

i can’t wait to get my d&d campaign really going so I can start fantasizing about these au papas and ghouls ive made

[lucifixion-pose]

hello i’m spreading the word. i bought a sample of perpetua’s cologne (Sequoia Wood by The Perfumer’s Story) and want people to know that if you breathe it in deeply, it stays in your nose and throat. it’s a very sharp and woody scent that smells really good and is absolutely something that a vampire would wear to mask the scent of blood; idk how it feels for others but for me it gets in my head in a very “vampire-trying-to-command-you” way. do with this what you will x

This is excellent information anon, thank you for bringing this to my attention.

Cologne with hypnotic/mind-altering effects is already in one of my stories and will be playing a significant role in the future >:3

[sunlit-moss]

hi im anon it wouldn’t let me ask from my alt (this acc). love to hear it and very much looking forward to it 😛

[hylagratiosa]

One day I hope to see Secondo as wide as he is tall with tits to match

[transalphabf]

Owned

You were scared, at first, to hear and learn that your Alpha had inhibited empathy, did this mean he was dangerous? Was he a risk? Could he experience his own emotions?

It was silly, thinking he couldn't, really, but you'd never encountered anyone who openly had no issue talking about their lowered empathy for others, but your Alpha wasn't shy about it. He'd told you, more than once, and that in of itself was intoxicating for you.

He didn't care about other people's feelings, what they experienced, except you. He wanted you to to feel good. He wanted you to be so deeply pleasured that you were putty in his hands. He wanted you sobbing with pleasure and purring and bred full.

It was always methodical, when he warmed you up, his gaze so intense as he fingered you open, his fingers brushing over your cervix and a small growl leaving him when your sweet cunt clenched down on him. His eyes were dark and burned as you writhed and whimpered for him, despite how hard it was for you to be open with your sounds.

His thick, swollen cock always seemed to press into you so carefully, after he'd made a point to force your little omega cock to 'make out' with his swollen, dripping Alpha cock. He loved smearing his precum over it, because then your little dick would be scent marked with his potent cum, as well as the rest of you. He said something about ensuring that it knew who you belonged to.

His cock was always searing hot as it began to press deeper into you than any previous boyfriend had even come close to, and you'd always feel the tip smooch your cervix, pressing slow and deep into you once more, when his body started moving faster and harder, he was always just staring at your face, obsessed with watching you.

Watching the way your eyes rolled back when your cervix was forced open, watching the way you arched up and tried to chase each moment, watching when your brows squeezed together to tell him you were about to cum.

That, you realised, was his favourite. The way you look as you cum was something more he was obsessed with. Besotted by.

His second favourite was the feeling of cumming inside your womb, feeling your cervix gripping the tip of his Alpha cock and forcing load after thick load into it. His knot felt good, though.

Like it was pressing against every part of your body that needed him.

And he was so loyal to making you feel good. You always, always came first.

He cared about nothing, and nobody except you, you were his only focus. And what an Alpha to have that focus from.

He was addicted to you. You loved it.

You owned him. Your own Alpha.

[tsunderrated]

i believe its important for women to be irredeemable perverts too

[sunlit-moss]

yes and they need to get in touch with me . and touch me,

[rabbiddyke]

older feral dog woman pinning you down and rutting against you. biting and licking up and down your limbs before really going in on your stomach. drawing blood with her mouth, maybe. looking a little too crazed in the eyes as she tastes you. she’s growling and barking and drooling all over you. what can you even do?

[sunlit-moss]

slowly falling into the vampire section of being a trans guy. big fan of the taste of blood i fear.

(this is about me nursing a paper cut on my hand)

[sunlit-moss]

franken stein