What do you want to do to me?

Mary | 26 | Bisexual

[tiemeup1234]

Name: Mary

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 26

This blog is purely for kink, dead dove do not eat

kinks: see my bdsm quiz below, also misogyny, rape/cnc, bondage, piss, object insertion, hucow, and just about anything else

Anyone can send me an ask or a DM

Please tell me how you would rape me

(minors dni)

(it should go without saying, this is kink, and does not align with my real world beliefs)

(I do not share pics)

[babybriar]

a scientist kidnapping me to test different drugs on me to see which makes me more pliable

[babybriar]

the slow, methodical touch of a doctor playing with my cunt with his gloves on while im in a drugged haze

[hex-yearns]

“Are you on birth control..?”…. “No..” …. “Good…” (as pounding gets heavier)

[doctorlarch]

At your request: The desperate full bladder omo sick fic I wrote when I was sick and feverish a couple months back. Featuring an overprotective partner forcing you to drink plenty of fluids and bathroom denial! Enjoy!

You’re sick. A bad flu and with that: a fever. Your partner is so sweet. Doting on you, waiting on you hand and foot so you never have to get out of bed! Encouraging you to drink plenty of fluids, even holding the glass to your lips so you don’t have to sit up. They say you have to take care of yourself to get better, and as the doctor recommends, drinking water is one of the most important things you can do! You’ve been getting plenty of rest, it’s been hours since you’ve gotten out of bed.

You’ve been in and out of sleep, waking up to be fed another dose of medicine or another glass of water here and there. You felt the urge to pee a little last time you woke up but this time it’s more intense, a little uncomfortable. Your partner is there as usual, placing a wet cloth on your forehead. You stretch and try to sit up just to be guided back into bed by their gentle hands on your shoulder. “I’m feeling a lot better. I think I need to get up for a minute.” not thinking there’d be any issue. They feel your head with the back of their hand then their cheek. “I don’t know babe, you’re still burning up. I think you need some more rest. I’ll get you a glass of juice then you can go back to sleep.” you don’t get a chance to argue as they leave for the kitchen. Coming back with a glass they find you sitting up in bed. “Lay back down sweetheart, I’ll help you. Just relax.” you do so with a sigh, not having the energy to fight and you know they mean well. You’ll drink the juice for your partner’s sake then run to the bathroom down the hall.

They hold the glass to your lips slowly feeding you the whole glass. By the time they’re finished you are bursting! “Let’s take your temperature again.” you roll your eyes. “Honey, I really feel fine. Can you move so I can get up? I gotta go to the bathroom.” They don’t move and look stern. “Temperature. Open...Now.” You roll your eyes more exaggerated this time but you oblige. They look at their watch, “Alright, no talking for 5 minutes then I’ll read the thermometer.” You sit there with your arms crossed, thermometer hanging from your mouth like a pouty kid. You’re starting to get antsy, pressing your thighs together, shuffling on the bed to try to reduce the pressure on your bladder. Your pajama bottoms were digging into your building tummy! Finally your partner comes back, holding the thermometer up to the light to check your temp. They sigh, “101 degrees! We have got to get your fever down, babe. Why are you even sitting up? Lay back down.” They press a firm hand on your chest and you start to protest. “I’m fine, just let me get up!” You snap and they look at you like a sad confused puppy dog. You feel bad and try to explain: “honey, I really need to pee. I’ll come right back to bed, just let me get up real quick.” They stare at you, thinking for a moment as they lay a hand on your forehead and cheek again. “We really gotta get your temp down babe, you are in no condition to be up walking around. I’ll get a fresh rag for your head and a nice cool glass of ice water. Let’s get your fever under control then I’ll help you to the bathroom.” You let out a whine, but are too tired to argue further and you know how they can dig their heels in.

They return quickly carrying a large glass of ice water with a straw and a basin of cool water with a fresh rag. They hold the straw to your lips and you hesitate; “Drink up!” you take a couple small sips. “Come on, a little more. If you drink half now then I’ll let you finish the other half later.” Seems like a fair enough deal, anything to speed this up and get to the bathroom! You chug half. Big mistake. Your overprotective partner sets the glass down and removes the thin sheet covering you. “This should cool you right down. You’ll feel so much better!” They ring out the rag above the basin, the sound of the water trickling causing you to cringe and clench. They gently stroke the cool rag across your arms and chest, you have to admit it does feel nice, you are burning up. Then moving lower to your abdomen, causing you to flinch when they brush over your bulging bladder. “Oh, baby, does something hurt?” They ask full of concern. You blush. Embarrassed to be talking about your bathroom habits. “I just really need to pee…” you let out shyly. They start massaging and palpating your tummy, right on top of your bladder. “You don’t seem that full…hmm. I hope there’s nothing else going on, I’m going to feel around your tummy just to be sure.”

You are close to throwing an outright tantrum and embarrassing yourself. Just let me get up!! They’re pressing right on your bladder! “Babe, I’m getting worried about this pain. On top of the infection you already have, I’m concerned you could have a UTI. Can you spread your legs for me?” You know they’ve seen it all before but you just about die of embarrassment at the request. You forget that your partner is a medical school drop out who thinks they know everything. But you open your shakey legs and instantly regret it. Clamping down trying to stop more than the drop that already came out. They reach down and gingerly spread your labia with one hand and pokes at your urethra with a gloved finger, when did they find gloves? They poke and prod for a couple agonizing moments. Each touch makes you shiver.

“Keep your legs open. I’m just going to feel your bladder again.” One hand reaches up to press on your lower stomach causing you to groan and try to roll away as a little dribble of pee escapes. You blush and hide your face. They won’t let you close your legs. “I think you have a bladder infection, hun. With that and your fever I’m starting to get pretty worried. But the good news is your bladder doesn’t feel too full. You should be good for another couple hours of rest easily. Hopefully with more fluids we can get your fever down a couple notches.” you protest, everything short of begging them to let you get up, but they stay sat on the edge of the bed blocking you in. Massaging your bladder almost absentmindedly as they speak to you, almost condescending sweet.

“Baby I know it hurts but that’s just the infection, you aren’t ‘bursting’ your body is just overreacting. You’re easily only 2/3rds full. In fact the excessive reaction you’re having just reinforces how ill you are, you really cannot be up and walking. Don’t worry I’ll stay by your side, promise. I'll take such good care of you.” They finally stop massaging your bladder and move to stand up. “I’m going to get you some cranberry juice, more cold liquids will be good for your fever and the cranberry will be good for your bladder. I'll be right back. Stay in bed.” They use that voice that scares you a little, reminding you who’s in charge. You know better than to disobey but this is becoming ridiculous! Torturous even! They crawl into bed with you and you sip on the juice while watching an episode of some show that you can’t follow. “Babe, you look really uncomfortable, you’re squirming so much. Let me take another look.” you can’t even fight it as they roll you onto your back and spread your legs slightly. All you can do is groan pitifully and try to use your hands to protect your vulnerable bladder but it does nothing to impede their prodding hands. “Shh, shhh, let me take a look. Oh baby, you poor thing. Your urethra is spasming so desperately trying to hold on.” They’re running one finger up and down the spasming muscle so gently, you wine as a drop escapes. They’re pressing on your bladder again. “You still have plenty of room left in your tummy baby, there’s no reason besides your illness why you shouldn’t be able to hold it.” They look down at their watch then back at you, thinking. “I’ll tell you what; if the pain in your tummy is still this bad in another two hours I’ll take you to the bathroom.”

[of-mutts-and-men]

Them sliding in hot and raw just as you start to say, “I don’t think it’s safe today,” or, “I don’t think we can/should be doing this.”

[greedysadistdaddi]

"The drugs should be kicking in soon. I want you to know I'm doing this because I love you so much. Please forgive me" while ripping your clothes off and rubbing my dick on your pussy

[greedysadistdaddi]

"It's okay, baby, I'm your dad now. I'll raise you right. I'll be everything you needed when you were growing up" while raping your pussy

[secondclassmysogynistgirl]

mysoginist utopia in which a girls nipples are trained from when they’re young.

It starts with puberty, and continues until she’s married. It’s tradition to get your daughters chest pierced when she turns 12, and from then on, her tits are the main focus of the men around her to teach her submission. It’s a treatment plan doctors often reccomend for brats. You’re stripped of your trainer bras and your shirts.

There are lots of other ways women are taught their inferiority since birth, but this period of their life is crucial for them to get it ingrained into their head. from the time a girl is 12 to 15, by the time she’s married, the men in her life are encouraged to use her chest as a reward and punishment system as they see fit. Your father leads you around in public by your sensitive, growing chest, and men chuckle understandingly. They take your other tit in their hands, rolling your oversensitive, clamped bud between their fingers, grinning at you. They give your chest a soft, appreciative slap, and tell your father something about how well you’re being raised.

By the time you’re thirteen, your piercings are equipped with weights- going up, up, up in size to get you used to the feeling. Your toddler younger brother plays with them whenever he wants, squeezing harshly and pulling on you- already sore and sensitive from the weights and the constant clamping. Sometimes he’ll latch, and if your mother passes by, she’ll just give you a sympathetic, proud little smile.

Your older brother on the other hand, will play with them while he’s gaming or studying- sometimes, if you’ve been good, he’ll film you and send them to his friends. Or he’ll tell you to just torture yourself until he says stop, for hours on end. If you’ve been good, sometimes your dad might strap vibes to your chest for the night.

When you’re 15, you’re put through the standard tests. Part of that is your reactivity. If you pass, you’ll be given your first set of lingerie- for graduating into womanhood, and sent off to private bidding at the discretion of your father. after you’re bought, you’ll spend the next decade pregnant, and then spend the rest of your life serving your sons and supporting your daughters the same way your mother did. If you don’t, your father gets to decide if he generously keeps your defective body, which rarely happens. Usually, they either send defects off to the farms, or to be handled by the government and put in service for public use.

[messedupdoggirl]

I wanna see the look in someone's eyes when they realize they finally have me where they want me and they can stop the act they've been putting on. I want to hear alarms in my head the I watch you padlock the door behind us. I wanna ask about it politely, expecting the same kind and reasonable answer you would have given me just 5 minutes earlier, only to be told to shut up and take my clothes off. Almost attempting to run away before I spot a taser in your hand. I wanna see that feral look in your eyes when you know im completely helpless. I want you to rub it in, I want to be taunted, I want to told how easily it would be to kill me, how stupid i was for putting myself in this situation. I need this before I die.

[whitefeatherhawktailbutch]

Making her get down on her knees and rub her face all over my bulge while begging me to use her like a dirty fuck toy.

[b0nestr3ats]

cum to other women online and stuff your cum stained tissues into my pussy as a trash can >w<

[yourabusiveolderbrother3]

Inviting my mates to come over when I’m home alone babysitting my little sister so we can take turns r4ping her. Putting her in a full nelson and letting them m0lest her while I’m destroying her tight little assh0le with my big 4dult c0ck. Not stopping until I cvm balls deep inside of her and then passing her to one of the guys, instructing him to fvck her in the exact same position. She’s too small and weak to fight back, so there’s not much she can do besides crying and screaming while we’re tossing her around like a toy, a mere object for us to destroy and defile. Recording the whole thing too so we can use it against her as blackmail. Wouldn’t want the dumb little wh0re to get any funny ideas or anything.

[softavieisback]

desperately need triple penetration rape rn

[gravedesiresblog]

Wrapping my hand around your throat and squeezing while you claw at my arms until your eyes start to roll back and you go limp underneath me. The second you black out and stop moving, I slap you hard across the face and start cursing at you.

“Who said you could just pass out like that? Wake up, you fucking whore. I’m not done with your worthless body.”

I keep slapping you and shaking you until you come back to consciousness, gasping and disoriented, only to feel my hand wrap around your throat again.

[brattydrench]

It’s the middle of the workday and I’m supposed to be finishing this task, but my cursor has been blinking on the same empty line for twenty minutes. Instead I’m on Tumblr, thighs parted under the desk, two fingers lazily circling my clit through the damp fabric of my underwear.

I’m so wet it’s starting to soak through. Every filthy caption and photo makes my cunt clench and drip a little more. The air feels too warm against my skin. My nipples are tight under my blouse, brushing the fabric every time I shift. I can smell myself—hot, musky, unmistakable.

I keep pressing my thighs together, rocking against my hand just enough to stay on edge, imagining someone walking in right now, yanking my chair back, bending me over the desk and shoving into me while I’m still open and dripping.

I should be working. All I can think about is how badly I need to be fucked.

[lostinallmydreams]

men who aren’t afraid to take what they want even if it means having to force a girl down to take his cock >>