#overstimulation kink

[the-black-manor]

Absolutely disgusting that aphrodisiac pollen, nectar, pills, gels, etc aren't real. I want to pop a pill and become so horny that my cunt is gushing slick and my cock is throbbing and I grind on anything in sight just to get some friction. I want to fuck for hours, over and over and over and still be insatiable afterward. I want powerful aphrodisiacs to be real.

[kyotokisses]

⌗ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇʀᴅʏ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʟᴀꜱᴛ

ꜱᴍᴜᴛᴛʏ , ᴍᴏᴍᴍʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ , ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ , ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍ , ᴄᴜᴍᴍɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴘᴀɴᴛꜱ , ᴇᴛᴄ.

satoru’s face was flushed a pretty pink, a dewy haze softening his features and leaving his skin faintly luminous as he kissed you with a sloppy gentleness — warm, lingering, and achingly tender — that mirrored his neediness.

“oh mommy — please... oh, my, fu—” his words broke apart, trailing into a strained, breathless whimper. the sound that escaped was swallowed by your lips bracketing his, fingers moving to delicately tug! at the ivory locs adorning his scalp.

he looked utterly disheveled — his glasses fogged and sitting crooked on the bridge of his nose, a faint flush creeping across his features. his breathing came unevenly, shoulders rising and falling as he struggled to gather himself.

the sight stirred something deep within you. you felt yourself clench at the view. there was a rawness to him in that moment — a submissive need electrifying his skin.

you broke apart the kiss with a wet pop. a sultry smile covering your glossy, spit-sheened lips. “it’s just kissing, ‘toru. don’t tell me you’re close?”

satoru’s face burned with embarrassment. that crimson color — which you knew all too well — trailing up the long expanse of his body. his teeth pressed into his lower lip, eyes wet as he stared at—no—admired the soft features of your face. your palm grazed his thigh, dragging itself over where the tip of his hard cock was pressed flush to his sweats. it only took a few grinds before his cock splurted out thick cum all in his underwear.

his head dropped in shame, chest heaving erratically at his own embarrassment. “aww, baby… you really can’t last, can you?” you cooed, finally pulling his half-erect cock out. thick globs of cum still rolling down his hard, veiny length. a shameless moan fell from his lips as he bucked his hips into your loose grip, searching for any semblance of friction.

”oh my gosh… m’so sensitive — mommy, please!” his words slipped clumsily from his lips, head tipping back from the slight touch. you tightened your hold on his cock, resulting in a full body shudder to wrack his muscles. his stomach tightened, and his breath picked up. the slight squelch! of your hand continued to fill the room.

“oh, baby. i know you are..” a giggle bubbled from your throat as you stared at the fucked out expression playing on his face.

his eyes sparkled as high whine punched all air from his chest, his back arching off the bed as he let himself fall apart.

“m’cumming! oh my fu — hngghh!” he came again. hot ropes of cum flying up onto his chest, landing on yours — and his — cheek.

“you filthy boy, you couldn’t wait for mommy’s permission?” you stared down at him, faux disgust covering your features. a wet slap! landing on his aching length, making it bob against his damp skin. he squeaked at your words. squeaked.

“i-i’m sorry, i really couldn’t hold it. it — it felt so good.” he breathed out, voice a raspy mess. he shrunk under your relentless gaze. he knew he would get punished, but it didn’t dim the blooming arousal that clouded his mind, and spotted his vision.

“felt so good, huh? so you looooove the pleasure, don’t you. seems like you wouldn’t mind being edged then, would you, puppy?” he gulped audibly, nodding despite the knot forming low in his belly.

“y-yes, mommy. please edge me — i need it.”

© ᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ᴋʏᴏᴛᴏᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ.

[urvampgirl]

someone let me shove my fingers in their mouth and cover their neck in hickeys pleaseee..🥹 hearing a sub whining and begging in my ear rn would make me wanna overstimulate them until tears start running down their pretty face

[dearcervus]

Bottom growth is actually so hot… I wanna suck on a cute boys tdick until he cries… pinning him down while I make him cum over and over on my tongue 🖤

[corruptedbyhim]

You made me. The rope bites into your wrists. You’re spread wide on the bed, vulnerable, your chest heaving as the aftershocks of the orgasm… the one you were strictly forbidden from having, ripple through your thighs.

He stands at the foot of the bed, fully dressed, taking in the sounds of your own wet, ragged breathing. Watching you unravel. He doesn’t look angry. He looks amused. And that is infinitely worse.

"I explicitly said," he begins, his voice low and calm, "that you’re not allowed to cum."

You try to catch your breath, twisting your wrists uselessly against the headboard. "You… didn't stop," you gasp out. "You kept going. You made me."

He steps closer, reaching out, running a thumb over the flushed skin of your inner thigh, feeling the tremors that are still misfiring there. "I made you? So you have no self control? Is that it?"

"It’s not fair," you whine, the protest falling from your lips before you can stop it. "You forced me. You knew I couldn't hold it!"

He stops moving. His eyes darken, the amusement sharpening into something predatory. He crawls onto the bed, looming over you, blocking out the light.

"Fair?" He laughs in your face. "You think this is a democracy? You think you get a vote?" He leans down, his teeth grazing the sensitive cord of your neck. "I decide what’s fair. I decide what you can handle. And right now, I’ve decided you need a reminder."

He reaches for the bedside table. You hear the metallic clack of the clamps before you see them. You flinch, but there’s nowhere to go.

"Please," you whisper, though you aren't sure if you're begging him to stop or to hurry.

He attaches the clamps to your nipples, one after the other. The pinch is sharp, vicious, cutting through the haze of the previous orgasm and dragging you back into a state of hyper-awareness. You cry out, arching your back, but he settles his weight over your hips, pinning you down.

"Look at you," he sneers, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him. "Leaking everywhere. No discipline."

"You made me like this," you insist, tears of frustration pricking your eyes.

"Clearly there’s more to do."

He picks up a wand vibrator. He hasn't even turned it on yet, but the sight of it makes your stomach flip. Your clit is swollen, hypersensitive, aching from the release you just had. The thought of more stimulation is terrifying.

"Don't," you gasp. "It's too much. I can't."

"I decide."

He turns it on the highest setting.

He presses it directly against you.

Your scream is muffled by his hand clapping over your mouth. It’s an overload of sensation, bordering on pain, a frequency that obliterates thought. You thrash against the ropes, your hips bucking involuntarily, trying to escape the sensation while simultaneously grinding into it.

"That's it," he rasps into your ear. "Take it. You don't get to rest. I decide when it ends."

He presses harder into the over-sensitive nerves. You’re weeping now, incoherent sounds of need vibrating against his palm. The humiliation is total. You’re helpless in his hands.

"Are you starting to remember?" he pulls his hand away from your mouth so he can hear you beg. "I own you."

"Yes," you sob, the word torn out of you. "Yes, Sir."

He pulls the wand away abruptly, leaving you gasping, shivering in the sudden absence. But before you can recover, you hear the sound of a zipper.

"Good," he says, positioning himself between your spread legs. "My personal fuck toy. That’s all you are."

He enters you in a long, smooth stroke, filling the empty ache the vibrator left behind. It’s grounding, heavy, and possessive. He doesn't drive hard immediately; he grinds slow and deep, stretching you, making sure you feel every inch of him claiming the space inside you.

"Tell me," he demands, gripping your hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh. "Tell me whose hole this is."

"Yours," you cry out, wrapping your legs around his waist, desperate for the friction. "It's yours. I'm yours."

"Good girl." He picks up the pace, snapping into a violent, punishing rhythm. Every thrust forcing the pleasure to build again, against your will, against all logic.

The nipple clamps rattle with every impact. The ropes burn your wrists. You’re trapped in a cycle of sensation that he orchestrates perfectly.

"I'm. going. to. ruin. you," he promises, punctuating each word with bites along your neck, hard enough to make you bruise. More marks. More reminders. "I'm going to make you cum, and then I’m going to make you regret it. Again and again."

As the tension coils in you, sharp and inevitable, you realize there’s no fairness here. There’s only him, and the beautiful, terrible things he decides to do to you.

[twd-bee3]

Hush

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Reader

Summary: You and Rick take full advantage of finally having a roof over your heads.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni, smut with no plot, overstimulation, female reader (she/her) with female anatomy, soft dom!rick, unprotected p in v sex, dacryphilia, use of the term 'good girl', aftercare, season 5, pre-established relationship, no use of Y/N

Word count: 976 words

A/N: I've never written for Rick before, so I hope this does him justice. So far, I've loved writing for this challenge, and it's curing my writer's block. When I first created this account, I intended on solely writing for Daryl, but I've enjoyed experimenting with other characters from the show.

This is for kinktober day 02 - Overstimulation.

Masterlist | R.G. smut masterlist

“You need to be quiet for me, honey.”

Rick's large, calloused hand was clasped over your mouth while he thrusted into you. The two of you hadn't had a roof over your heads since back at the prison. Not that he would've been fucking you like this then. In the here and now, your back was pressed into the mattress and Rick's body was hovering over yours. The Alexandrian home still had people in it, though. The last thing you two needed was for the group to hear this.

Whimpering against his palm, the way that his cock was stretching your walls was overwhelming, and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. It wasn't that it didn't feel good - it was the complete opposite. You felt immensely full. Rick continued rocking in and out of you. A hot tear fell on his skin and he realized you were crying. Leaning forward, he kissed your forehead and swept away your tears with his thumb.

“You're okay. Breathe for me, baby.”

Rick's gentle tone made you want to cry more, but you did as you were told and took a ragged breath. You matched your breathing to the rhythm he used while rolling his hips. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took steadier breaths through your nose and calmed down.

“Good girl. Keep takin' those deep breaths.”

With his hand still over your mouth, you whimpered again at his praise and nodded. All you wanted was to be good for him. Rick made sure that you were reassured before he picked up the speed of his movements. Every thrust was pushing you closer to the edge, and he fully intended on getting you there. As he felt you tense slightly, he stroked your cheek and spoke in a softer tone. He was determined to carefully coax the orgasm out from you.

Adjusting the angle, he hit a certain spot and was rewarded with a muffled scream. It wasn't overly exaggerated - just a sound you couldn't contain. Thank God, Rick's hand was still pressed against your mouth. He kept working that spot and grinned wickedly as you writhed beneath him. Your muttered words caught his attention.

“Too- too much.”

Rick didn't stop, though. You didn't use the pre-established safe word, which made it clear that you didn't actually want him to cease his movements. He knew that you were strong enough to keep taking him, and you were too desperate for your own release to genuinely tell him to stop. He kissed your temple and gingerly wiped away more of your tears.

“You're takin' me so well, babygirl. I'm not stoppin' now.”

Feeling your walls clench around him, he was certain you were close, and he quickened his speed. You still felt achingly full, and tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were overwhelmed with ecstasy. He switched the rhythm again and your body convulsed. Your cry was suppressed by his hand, again. Your trembling form beneath him was enough to send Rick over the edge, and he spilled into you. Between ragged breaths, he peppered your face with kisses and reassured you.

“You were such a good girl for me. Thank you, baby.”

Unlike the man-children that you'd been unfortunate enough to date in the past, he was grown enough to know how to take care of you. This wasn't going to be a quickie where he threw a paper towel in your direction and rolled over to sleep. Rick was a gentleman - even if he'd just fucked you like he wasn't. After making sure your breathing had calmed, he stroked your hair and spoke quietly.

“Are you sore, sweetheart? I'm gonna clean you up.”

“Just a little bit.”

Your voice was much softer than usual and you were completely subdued. Rick had wrecked you. You weren't complaining, though. He smiled at your sweet voice and kept his hand in your hair. He loved how soft and messy you looked after sex. It was divine, in a way. The intimacy of being seen like this, at your most vulnerable, was surreal.

“You're so pretty. My pretty girl.”

“Thank you, my love.”

Even though you were blushing and exhausted, your man had taught you how much he appreciated it when you took a compliment. Rick hummed in satisfaction and nodded. Careful not to shock your system, he held your hips and slowly pulled out. Your cunt felt empty without him, and the cold air made your skin prick with goosebumps. A whimper escaped, and he placated you with a kiss.

He'd had enough forethought to lay a towel beside the bed before things got intense. Picking it up, he used the material to gently wipe up your skin and patted you dry. He'd hate for his baby to feel sticky and uncomfortable. Rick's own skin was flushed and warm from his orgasm. A few damp curls stuck to his forehead, and you drowsily reached up to move them. You brushed them out of his eyes and smiled a little.

“Thank you for makin' me feel so good, Rick.”

“You shouldn't expect any less from me, sweet girl. I take care of what's mine.”

Making sure that you were clean, he used a different part of the cloth and cleansed his own thighs. Your skin was still trembling slightly, and he soothed you by brushing his fingers over your side. He wanted to carry you downstairs and get some food in your stomach, but that was risky. You could barely keep your eyes open, anyway.

Rick helped you sit up and reached for the water bottle he'd set out on the nightstand. He brought it to your lips and watched as you took a few sips. Seeing you like this made a small wave of protectiveness wash over him, and he mentally vowed to take care of you.

Taglist: @imadisneyprincessiswear @josephisblog @t-folklore13 @madyb17 @storiesofthev01d @aphroangelis @dixondisease @angelwings-crossbowstrings @idkwthgoitmww @smuttfuelled @glennseyeball @tvduxveil @death-in-a-tar0t-card @spookysturnz @nichemint @asparagus-antics @xanaxiii @hail-yourselves

[rosemarryheart]

fucking breathe you dumb fuck

I am but a humble child when it comes to 69

Taglist: @writerandstudent

Character: Ticci toby

🥀 Pluck a rose for a request 🥀

Tw: Cunningligus, overstimulation, dubcon, sadism, child abuse, violence, organ stealing, bad sex?, painful sex, biting

Disclaimer: I do not have tourettes syndrome nor CIPA , while I have study these conditions I may not be accurate because I simply don't have it. Any correction will be appreciated.

Best read with a fem reader in mind

Toby was fully aware that he could hold his breath for an insane time, the burn that was supposed to happen just never did. He remembers the time that his father was grab his hair, the rough hands over his hair as he pushed Tony into the toilet.

"you fucking disgrace! Do you know how much you fucking cost?" His father slurred, the alcohol tinting the room with nausea, staining Toby with the thought of something so evil being around him. But Toby could handle it, he knew it was supposed to hurt. The way his mom flinched and hissed out, the way Lyra always touched her once and jumped back.

Better him then them.

Yet, you simply didn't care about that. You always tried to focus on his wounds. You always made sure to tell him to breathe when he was holding his breath. Sure, you both were killers in this fucked out weird, culty bullshit. Yet, you cared.

You always told Toby to stop taking the hits from everyone: Masky kicking him, Jeff stabbing him, even Eyeless Jack stealing his organs late at night.

But you also begged Toby to stop licking your cunt.

He doesn't even know how this happened, Toby just wanted to taste you. It started out small: licking your hand, biting your shoulder, kissing your collarbone. You probably told him to stop but he looked up at you like you were perfect.

"Tobyyy." You wined, your nails gripping his scalp, digging so hard to draw blood, to plead with him to stop. That it doesn't feel good anymore, that this was becoming so painful to deal with his tongue swirling haphazardly, his tics jerking his head to the side of your thigh, even biting it to the point of drawing blood.

But it's okay, he just wants to taste you. Even if you can't breathe, because he can.

[the-black-manor]

I can't seem to overstimulate myself. I cum and then I don't want to continue. I need someone to tie me down and make me cum over and over and over until I pass out.