#implied tf

[corromon]

Freaky Friday type vibe for this years halloween doodle.

[or-fi-s]

Commission for redfearnmatt.bsky.social

Posted using PostyBirb

[pobblebonked]

bday gift for a friend

[bigtransfatdog]

hey what are you doing with that bucket ommpphhf mmff mf. mfff.fm.mmmm...

...

[impamy]

waking up tomorrow

[snepfeathers]

Y'know, maybe living as a chunky mousegirl plushie isn't that bad...

a recent comm for someone who'd like to stay anonymous!

[kittygoopaw]

Making out with yourself really is the best way to do it. You can press yourself back into the bed, feel the cushion and the pressure. The heat and the need. The way that one name rings out over and over under hot and heavy breaths. That you can do whatever you want, because you know you'll enjoy it. You know you want it.

Bite and lick and claw and huff and kiss and fuck and growl and yip and mewl and everything everything burning so hot it makes your mind flutter and twist. Do what comes natural, what you crave so dearly.

Now the question is did she sink her claws into you and rewrite something, or did you do it to her? Which of you changed? Or, maybe, you're exactly as you want to be. As you should be.

The kind of wordless intensity as the edges blur and lose meaning, fucking like you might forget what it means to feel otherwise. Leaving yourself dazed, confused, panting under or...over, or under, or...which one again? Your head is fuzzy and you tell yourself not to worry about it.

The thought drives a heavy shudder as someone whispers good girl into one of your ears. You can't think while claws are taking down against your side, causing sharp gasps and whimpers. It seems the night has only begun.

By the time it's over, silly questions like "who" will be easy to answer with "me, of course".

[prettylynnpup]

The Engineer

"Alright, let's get you plugged in..." You hear as you begin to wake up.

Beeps and whirrs and whizzes start sounding off as you boot up. You don't recall anything, but somehow, you also know everything. There are so many new holes in your body that you don't recall being there.

"Good morning darling!" A lovely voice speaks. Is it at you? Yes, it must be; there's nobody else in the room. You look up to answer it, and can't seem to find the person who spoke to you.

"Good morning mistress, how are you? How may I best serve you, today?" You feel the words slipping out of you like you've been trained for that. Like it's your programming.

"I'm well this morning QT-π, how are you this morning?" The voice speaks and you listen. Wait, a question... You load a response.

"I'm doing good, mistress, thank you for asking. Is there anything you need performed this morning?" You reply to the machinist who made you what you are. It sits in silence for a moment, seemingly pondering.

"Well, QT, I was thinking about testing a few new scripts for you this morning." Scripts? You check your database and... It's been 2 months since you've had new scripts installed. You don't know or remember what it feels like, so you're looking forward to whatever the feeling might be.

"Sounds perfect, mistress. Would you like me to go to the port station?" You start moving anyways, body accustomed to the motions. You know it's going to say yes, after all.

"That would be great, QT, thank you." Your mistress' voice seems to make your fans move a bit faster. You're not sure what that means, but you like it.

Once you arrive to the port station, you feel plugs start filling the holes littered around your body, and your fans go into overdrive. There's something so sensual about the gentle hand of your engineer, taking its time on every plug it places into your ports.

You try to think about why your tactile memory is so muddled, and a question comes to mind.

"Mistress?"

"Yes, QT?"

"Was I always a bot?"

"No, QT, you used to be flesh and blood."

You pause. You used to be a human, just like your engineer? You can't even begin to imagine what that must be like.

"Why did I become a bot, mistress?" You feel like the answer will resolve something within you. Perhaps one too many tasks are open and this might help end an especially obtrusive task.

"It was a couple months ago. You'd come up to me, basically begging me to be made into a bot. You were so pathetic and adorable that I couldn't say no, and over the course of those two months we fully perfected your body."

A mirror appears.

"See how perfect you look now, QT?"

You look in the mirror. It's right. You are absolutely perfect, from head to toe.

"I do mistress, thank you."

"Of course QT! Now, let's get these new scripts downloaded!"

Flash. A rush of information swells into all of your senses. So much feeling, and knowledge, and you're interpreting all of it and it... fuck, it feels good...

"M-mistress, I think there's been a g-glitch." You barely manage to stammer out, and your mistress giggles.

"Oh, no, little bot. What do you think these scripts were meant to do?"

The pleasure is overwhelming, borderline overstimulating. You fall to your knees, fans on takeoff and a heat warning flashing on all your sensors... And then,

it's over.

Mistress pulls out your wires, and you feel strangely empty.

"How do you feel, QT? You doin okay?" It touches your arm. Your fans go into overdrive. You remain silent for a moment as your Mistress' hands begin to wander. To all your ports, to all of your body. It then takes a moment and gently kisses you. Your fans whirr somehow faster...

You turn to face your engineer. Your goddess. And you remember its question;

"I'm perfect, goddess..."

Support me on Ko-fi?