cnc somno fantasy, where my kidnapper/stalker has been visiting me regularly to jerk off while I sleep. at a certain point they start using my hand to stroke themselves, entranced by my soft little hands. a while more and they notice I don’t wear much to bed, so once they’ve cum they use it as lube to finger me. they wonder how I manage to stay sleeping, but they start to make a habit of it. eventually they give in to their urges and start gently using my hole— first just as a place to cum after they’ve jerked off, but eventually it’s just too tempting and they sheath themselves fully inside— careful not to move too much to keep me asleep
over time they become more needy, and actually start drugging me so they can use me more freely. once they’re accustomed to using my hole— and they’re sure their more spirited thrusts don’t wake me— they start eying my mouth and ass as possible conquests. again starting gentle and slow as if they have some doubt about their lack of restraint. rubbing their cock head over my lips becomes popping in and out of my mouth becomes maneuvering me to the edge of the bed, head hanging slightly, so they can sheathe themselves fully in my throat and stroke the bulge with their cupped hand
just… slowly transgressing every boundary they ever told themselves they would never cross, until they are using me completely and freely like a sex doll
Note: Just finished first half of season five and wanted to write more for our eldritch pookie. Reader is also bespectacled. Could be read as a sequel to this.
Imagine meeting Mr. Whatsit and accidentally breaking his glasses by sitting down on his face too hard.
The glass could’ve gotten embedded in your backside, Mr. Whatsit admonished. You muttered an apology.
“Good thing you have thick jeans,” he replied, patting said denim-clad backside with both hands.
His girlfriend was straddling his midriff, while throwing embarrassed glances over her shoulder. Best view he’d had in a long time. Over a year. If he’d been capable of mustering any anger towards you, your pout would’ve completely dissipated it. It wasn’t like he actually needed glasses. They were just part of his disguise. To make him appear nonthreatening. It was an added bonus you seemed to like his eyewear.
Besides, he could just ask where you got yours. He smiled at the thought of you helping him try on different frames. A date at the optometrist’s. Too bad one couldn’t help him with his second sight, which seemed off today. His other five senses were working perfectly. It was his sixth sense that needed checking.
While he was pondering why your mind was closed off, you were thanking God you’d taken the keys out of your back pocket. Otherwise you might’ve bruised Henry’s pretty face.
From accidentally plopping your entire ass on it.
Rushing into sex hadn’t been your plan. Not this time. Henry’d gotten dressed up. Like a date. A proper date. Not just a two person “gang bang” where he’d allowed your eager holes to get acquainted with his tentacles. Switching it up. Pumping in tandem in your pussy. Near one climax, you’d gotten so wet Vecna had been able to slip his cock between two pistoning flesh-vines. That was the only time you’d shown any reluctance. And he’d withdrawn his auxiliary phalluses before fully entering you vaginally.
You wondered how he’d managed PIV, with a seemingly Ken doll physique. Then shook your head. You’d been transported back and forth between dimensions. What was a little penile sheath between boy- and girlfriend?
Still lying casually supine on the bed, Mr. Whatsit tilted his hat back.
Is this another illusion?
Each time you had sex had been a dream. Not just because you loved it, his tentacles and promises of letting other monstrous appendages—other monsters’ appendages—tongues, more tentacles, intermittent organs, and any combo of the three—in your orifices. Your lover hadn’t stepped foot out of the Upside Down.
Henry isn’t much of a monster, is he? Just looks like one. Not now, though.
Kind eyes, obscured by cracked lenses, and a cushiony smile.
Meanwhile, Henry was internally debating whether or not to ask you to turn around. God, he missed your breasts. They were perfect for him. The only way they could be better was to add a bit more softness, make them sag with milk.
But he already had a bunch of other children to mind at the moment. Besides, maybe you’d prefer oviposition. You were pretty kinky. He’d love altering your biology to fulfill your joint desires.
Joint.
Vecna pursed his lips. For some reason, your mind wasn’t as open to him as it once was. But you were more than interested in oral, obviously.
He hadn’t been given a proper blowjob, but you had fellated a tentacle. Deepthroated it, even. And thanked him for suppressing your gag reflex. All while taking in more appendages below the waist. It was only fair he ate you out.
“Okay,” Henry said, transferring his glasses to a pocket. It’d been a miracle yours hadn’t clacked together when Mr. Whatsit had unexpectedly appeared and swooped in for a kiss.
Then I had to go and treat his head like a couch cushion at the end of a long day.
“I’ll brace my hands on your thighs so you can bear down gently. Then we can switch positions afterwards. If you want.”
He smiled again as your grin lit up your whole face.
can we get a furret sitting on the reader's face pleeeeaaaase
Absolutely! Not writing a full fic atm bc I'm bad at finishing them so you get Thoughts.
So like. Furret is 5'11/just shy of 2m. Not tall, it seems - long. Long as a person, and not a short person. You ever see a long ass snake? That but bigger around and super fluffy. Able to curl around you, holding on with those lil paws. Shoving whatever its got in your face, and slinky enough to curl around your head and hold you there, probably even to pin your arms at the same time. Purring up a storm as you go to town on it, thick fur in your face blocking out the rest of the world.
You know I can’t stand up after three or four orgasms—my legs turn to jelly, my knees buckle, and you laugh at me before bringing me a glass of water. Then we cuddle until my legs can support me again.
Usually, anyway.
Tonight, you coaxed me through six with your fingers. By the last one, I was panting and writhing and moaning, my mind empty of everything but the overwhelming pleasure. I clung to you as I rode out the climax, but as soon as you felt me relax, you stepped away.
“Stand up,” you ordered.
You know I can’t stand up after three or four orgasms, but your raised eyebrow warned me I’d better do more than lie there gasping. I scrambled to the edge of the bed and put one foot on the ground, testing it. Then the other. When I pushed myself up with shaky arms, though, my legs collapsed beneath me and I dropped hard to my knees.
“I told you to stand up,” you said sharply, and I looked up at you with wide, pleading eyes.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“No?” You grabbed my chin and forced it even higher. “Why not?”
I flushed bright red, embarrassed by the answer. “You know why.”
“I’m asking you.”
I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t make myself form the words. You let the silence linger, your eyes boring into mine. Finally, you dropped my face and reached for your belt buckle.
“Poor thing,” you mused condescendingly. “I’ll help you out this once, even though you disobeyed me. Your body knows where you belong, doesn’t it? On your knees in front of me, with your pretty mouth open.”
knot my mouth, overwhelm me with more than i bargained for, and leave me panting, incoherent when you finally pull out. i won’t even be able to complain if you fuck your knot into my hole without a condom.
