...

valentine - he/him - 18 - transfag

[transexualpyre]

pinned post

call me valentine or val, im an 18yo gay trans guy. he/him pronouns only or ill kill u. sub/bottom exclusively. i dont follow from this acc.

dms are open but be normal

i follow from @p********** kinks include but are not limiting to: sadomasochism knifeplay dumbification/hypno petplay DNI if ur blog is abt detrans stuff, feederism, ageplay, incestuous stuff, or if ur a minor, obviously

[lagodilot]

[mewnbuns]

men who take a big fistful of your hair whenever you’re sucking them off, using it to guide you along the length of their cock at a pace that they like until the slight sting is making you dizzy, thighs pressing together as they coo down at you and they use it as leverage to tilt your face up to give them a better look

vs

men who can’t help but pet at your hair whenever you’re sucking them off because they use it as a form of praise to let you know it feels good. they’ll push it back from your face, trying to get a real good look at you— making sure it’s not getting caught in your spit as you drool all over their cock, the weight of their hands on your scalp enough to motivate you to go even deeper….

[angelboyliveson]

The idea of using hypnosis to get someone to partake in humiliating activities that they normally would shiver at the thought of doing is making me go insane,,,

Imagine a cocky, self-assured kind of guy being coerced into humping another guys boot, all whiny and eager because of the trance he's in. You could even rip him back into reality mid hipthrist so the embarrassment really strikes when he looks up to meet eyes with the man leaning over him...god

hypnosis to make someone piss themselves, hypnosis for dumbification purposes, hypnosis to get that masculine poised asshole to wear lacy panties....oh so much to consider

may have to write more in depth about this

[touchhorse-deactivated20250131]

the best porn i ever watched was about these two argentinian monks in a monastery during WW3 who witness the end of the world and then have sex in this candlelit stone grotto while nukes rain down outside and it was really emotionally earnest and played super straight i loved it. and like not just because i have a fetish

[touchhorse-deactivated20250131]

both of the monks have eyebrow piercings

[athena-cat-wizard-official]

this is genuinely a piece of art and it belongs in the moma

[em--pulsive]

i think one of the reasons that i'm not super into petplay is that i can't relate to the energy or excitable nature of a puppy. i tend to lean more towards the personality of an old dog that lets out a long, melancholy sigh every now and again.

[carapaceinblue]

forcemasc but I'm a stone top. my partner is molding me into the perfect top, ideal for giving out all of the pleasure they need.

they're encouraging me to workout more, so that I can lift them up in bed and manipulate their position with ease. "c'mon, I know you can do more push-ups than that. you're a guy, aren't you? act like one. get on the floor and start sweating." once I get strong enough to do multiple pushups on my own, they start pressing down on my back just to make it harder. laugh at me a little when I can't do it, then whisper in my ear about how they want me to get all big and strong so I can fuck them better. which, of course, makes me go a little crazy and push just that little bit further.

after workouts, they admire my body, tracing circles into the sweat on my skin, sizing up my muscles and praising me for the man I'm becoming. they sit me down and pull out my t shot and inject me while the sweat is still cooling. it hurts, but they remind me that pain is part of the process, and it kinda feels good, doesn't it? I'm being such a good boy for taking it without flinching.

and then they strap me in and tell them to fuck them like it's my real dick, to practice moaning in time with the thrusts. and once we start fucking, their words start to change from "good boy" to a pathetic repetitive cry of "thank you sir".

[femboyfertility]

A prince who isn't that much of a fan of jewelry receives an amulet from a fellow royal, saying how it will lessen the stressors of living with such high status. Little does the poor prince know that the moment they put it on, they'll be made into a mindless slut who only thinks about how they can whore themself out to their subjects...

[aucprivt-deactivated20250404]

In the mood to grab a kitten by their hips and make them bend over for me. I'd push my hand down their spine to see the way they arch and present themselves while purring, cocky grin spread all over their face as they slowly swing their tails from side to side, while bucking their hips to meet my bulge. I'd happily grab their tail and pull it just harsh enough only to hear them yelp and hiss, just so I could laugh and tell them to behave or they're not gonna get their treat.

I'd slide my cock in their needy hole as their ears flatten against their skull and they arch their back even more for me to hit the perfect spot. Them meowing out several moans and scratching the sheets as I start pounding into them while keeping them steady by grabbing their tail because I know it pisses them off and fucks with their balance <33

[stupidsadistic-and-suicidal]

it's big? yeah, i know. wouldn't want something like whatever that is sticking out from between your thighs, hm?

what, it's too big?

stop hovering there like a fucking idiot, sit down before i force you down by your hips.

and stop your crying, you've been such a whiny little bitch lately. it'll feel good in a minute, if you're lucky enough to be taking up my time then you're gonna at least make it worthwhile.

that's it.. you look so pretty like this, puppy. finally, something you're good for.

aww.. baby, your legs are shaking. look at you..

but you're not gonna cum until i do.

don't look so confused, doll. i know it's a strap.

you heard me, so.. you'd better keep going, yeah?

[stupidsadistic-and-suicidal]

piercing a sub's tdick as a form of chastity

better when he's afraid of pain, that way he won't risk touching himself just for some kind of relief

the best when he's afraid of pain and can't cum from penetration alone, poor boy :(

we need more tboy chastity in here

[stupidsadistic-and-suicidal]

accusing a sub of faking his orgasms,

"don't give me that shit, you barely moved."

even though he was squirming around and whining so pretty just seconds before

slapping him and forcing his thighs apart for the second of many times that night

"you wanna play this game? really?"

as his knees are drawn up and fastened to the chest harness that's pressing against his pretty chest just right

"you think i can't tell when my own fucking sub is lying to me?"

another slap, this time on the inner thigh

he lets out a pathetic little cry, eyes suddenly blown wide with the realisation of what's about to happen to him

"you've been doing this for days, you dumb fucking dog. you're gonna learn what happens to lying little sluts like you."

forcing a second orgasm out of him, a vibrator held on his tdick on the highest setting, his calm negotiation attempts becoming desperate little cries as the stimulation doesn't stop

it continues, only this time he's stretched open with no warning

"you wanna try fake your orgasms to me? yeah? try it now."

and then proceeding to fuck him stupid and make him cum 12 times in a row

[knights4knights]

heyyy for knight scenarios 👀 what about some knight4knight jealous fighting turned rough fucking? (interpret as you wish - knights in a love triangle, possesive knight dealing a punishment to their lover, whatever you fancy)

WHAT ABOUT IT INDEED

knight4knight dynamic I've been spinning around in my head is being one of two knights who are both favorites of their prince, always competing against each other for the prince's attention and admiration (and each other's)

(tw for dubcon and rough fucking with a sword hilt)

One night, the prince has called you to his chambers to thank you for a service you've recently rendered him. You pass by your fellow knight, posted at his door, and though his helm is on, you know he's glaring at you as you pass. You smirk at him, and say nothing; you know that will make him angrier than any jab you could make, and sure enough, you hear the clank of him shifting, the huff of his irritation within his helm.

Your prince bids you kiss his ring. You don't question why he's asked you to his chambers in the night for this rather than doing it before all your peers; you know why, and it's not your place to question your liege, besides. This, the honor of taking his hand, your lips lingering on his ring, that hand turning to cup your jaw, run a thumb over your lips, turn your face to look up at him where he sits in his fine chair, is greater than any public honor. He guides your head to rest on his knee, his thumb poised teasingly on your lower lip as he thanks you. You wonder if this will be the evening he awards you the great honor of doing him the service you truly desire, but instead, he awards you a fine new sword, fingers running reverently over the hilt in a way that makes your mouth water. He gestures at last for you to stand and hands you the sword, extracting an oath from you to use it in his service alone, and dismisses you.

"Tell my guard not to be too jealous," he says as you go, and you smile, knowing he called you here with your rival at his door on purpose.

As you exit the prince's chambers, you repeat his message to your rival. "Don't worry, sir knight," you tell him, resting your hand on the hilt of the sword that now hangs at your side. "Perhaps you too may one day please our prince as I have." As you walk away, you pause consideringly, and add, "or perhaps not. Certainly not as well as I have, at least."

Youve scarcely turned away again before you hear the clank of his sudden movement. Your hands have already unsheathed your new sword before you even fully comprehend his advance. You came to the prince's chambers unarmed and unarmored, vulnerable as you rarely are. He is out of your measure; a single step could bring him in it, but he is fully armored. Still, he has not drawn his sword.

"Drawing your sword outside our lord's chambers?" Your rival says. He still doesn't unsheath his own sword, but you remain on guard, eyes tracking him. "I do not think spilling my blood would impress him."

"I've already impressed him," you point out, tilting your sword slightly so the true edge catches the gleam of the nearby torches. It's this slight shift, this momentary distraction of your own smugness, that he takes advantage of.

He moves swiftly; you hesitate for just a moment--you have never honestly considered your rivalry such that it would come to blows, and truly, you don't believe the prince would be pleased if you wounded him here--but that moment is all it takes, and he is too close to strike.

He moves to grab you by the back of your neck and your hip; you attempt to thwart him, jamming one hand into his elbow and trying to catch the other of the arm going for your neck with your right hand, but the sheer weight of his armor prevents you from taking control, and he throws you hard against the wall, knocking the wind from you. Your head cracks against the stone, and in your shock, he grabs the wrist of the hand holding your sword and pins it against the wall, taking the sword. His other hand remains against your hip, painfully tight, pushing you into the wall.

You wrap a leg around his, attempting to pull on his knee and tip him over, but the weight is simply too much, and it only brings you closer together, hips meeting hips, and with the greater closeness, you realize there is something hard beneath his chainmail skirt. He freezes at the contact, the press of your body against his cock. You shift, and it's a testament to his sudden distraction that you're able to move your hips despite his grip. You press against his groin, and--yes, you can feel it; beneath the mail, there is only his braies and tunic. He flinches, hand tightening again on your hip.

"You're a worm," he spits. "Gnawing your way through the sweet apple of our prince, tempting him, corrupting him."

"I don't think it is the prince who finds himself tempted, sir knight," you murmur, and the gauntleted hand around your throat tightens. You think it will probably bruise, and the thought makes you dizzier than it should. "What is it that excites you? Brutality? Laying hands on your fellow knight? Or is it the thought of me, alone in his quarters with our prince?"

"How dare you?" He growls, but you can feel him throb as you speak. "You don't deserve this sword." You feel the point of it slip beneath the skirt of your tunic and up to against your stomach. There's a moment of alarm--surely, he doesn't mean to kill you right outside the prince's chambers with the very sword your liege only moments ago awarded you?--but then you feel it push behind the knot of the drawstring of your braies.

You gasp as the knight shifts the sword, slicing cleanly through the knot and grazing the soft skin of your stomach as he does. You feel blood beading, dripping down the trail of hair leading to your bush, and the sword is pulled away, replaced by the cold metal of the knight's gauntlet. He pulls your braies down rougly, and with them your hose, and you suck in a breath as you feel his gauntlets pass over your bush, across your inner thighs, and then press roughly between them. Your legs open obligingly, and his armor is so cold against your warm legs. Your hands adjust on his shoulders; you're not sure when, exactly, you decided to hold onto him rather than push him away, but it feels immaterial as the knight's cold gauntlets press against the warmth of your cunt. You can't say you've never imagined it before, alone in your bed at night, hands working between your legs, just as his fingers now move back and forth. He seems to notice something about the ease of how they slide, because he looks up sharply. "You're wet," he says accusingly, and you can't help but grin.

"You throw a man against a wall, press your hard cock against him, and pull down his trousers, you can't expect him to be unaffected," you point out, and you hear him take a sharp breath.

"You're demented," he says, disbelieving, but his hand has not stopped moving, and you feel one sharp finger press questioningly against your entrance. You gasp again, pressing against the finger, a little apprehensive of the overlapping plates, but also curious about how they'll feel within. It pushes in and you groan, bearing down on it--yes, you were right, the ridges of the plates are just what you wanted them to be, and the finger is so hard, so cold, so thick, but the knight pulls out immediately, making an irritated noise. His hand remains between your legs, and you grind down against it, sighing when your clit presses against the softer leather heel of his palm.

"You're degenerate," he tells you, and you nod impatiently, pressing against him. He presses his hand harder against you, his finger pressing again at your entrance. "You are a corrupting influence on our prince," he says, and this, you can't agree with; your prince remains faultlessly--well, if not proper, or formal, at least decorous. "You don't deserve this sword," he says again, and his hand leaves your cunt.

You make a noise of protest, but before you can even try to follow it, something else presses against you.

It's cold and hard and round, and before you can fully process it, it pushes into you, stretching you further than you thought you could take, and you gasp, a high keening noise slipping free.

"Sir knight--" you say, but his other hand covers your mouth, hard steel against your lips. His blank helm reveals nothing, and your eyes flick down to see--

Your tunic is rucked up around your waist, your braies and hose in a pool at your ankles, and between your legs is the sword your prince gave you, turned in the knight's hand. The round thing that entered you was the pommel of your sword. The knight is fucking you with your sword.

You try to say something against his hand, but he pushes it deeper into you, and all words are lost. The pommel is stretching you like you've never felt before, an unyielding metal ball pushing its way in, whatever your cunt has to say about it, and God, it feels incredible. He pulls out and pushes back in and he's fucking you with it, hard and fast, in and out, the pommel moving from your entrance to somewhere deep within you, finding deeper purchase with every thrust. You moan, hips pushing down to meet it, over and over, until you feel it hit your cervix. You cry out, but the knight doesn't react, continuing his ruthless pace until you feel what must be the guard meet your entrance, slamming against you, and your eyes roll, head falling back against the wall, realizing you've taken the entire hilt.

"You--you took it all," he says, sounding disbelieving, and he's breathing hard. You don't think it's with the effort of it, and when he's done, you'll have to take a peak beneath his mail skirt. You pant open-mouthed against his hand, the metal warming with your heat.

With every thrust, the guard hits your clit, drawing a moan. Heat builds deep in your stomach, the pommel moving hard and unyielding within you like--like the voice of God, like a revelation, and finally, you come hard with a shout. He rewards the noise with one last savage thrust before he pulls the sword out. The sound of the pommel's removal is a lewd pop that you'll remember for the rest of your life.

He releases you, stepping back as he inspects the sword. There's a bit of blood on the hilt, and he wipes it on his surcoat. "You don't deserve this blade," he says again, and you roll your eyes, trying to hide how weak your knees are. You can still feel the pommel within you, the pressure of it right at the heart of you. You think you'll feel it for a long time.

"So you said," you say, and hold your hand out for it, but he doesn't move. "The prince will notice if you wield it."

"Then you will tell him I won it," the knight says, and your face colors. It's not untrue. You wonder if the prince will guess how, exactly, he won it from you, and then you think to wonder why the prince never came to investigate the ruckus just outside his chambers. The knight hadn't been quiet, couldn't be with his armor clanking, and you certainly weren't either. You wonder what the prince might have made of the sounds outside his door--if he'd imagined what their source might be.

"I suppose I will," you say, and something about your smile makes him sigh.

"Get out of my sight," he says, resuming his post beside the prince's door.

"Gladly, sir knight," you say, and bow despite your shaking knees. "Goodnight."

He doesn't dignify you with a response, but you hear the sound of his head turning to watch you as you go.

[knights4knights]

it's Christmas, don't forget to call your loyal knight to your chambers after the festivities to reward him for his good service all year long. get on your royal knees for him, get on all fours and let him take you from behind like a dog in heat, serve him. You've both been waiting all year for this. he will protest that it is beneath you, to allow him to debase you in this way, but he knows how badly you want it, how you yearn for any excuse to give yourself to him, and he'll forget any objections once he has you crying under him

[knights4knights]

@sirkendryan this is all the knight kink community needs for Christmas 🗡️ please sir kendryan 🙏

[gauntlyt]

well since you asked so nicely...

(cw: alcohol, slight dubcon)

I press my body to the closed door like a barricade against it, overwhelmed with the reflex to shield my prince. he looks so vulnerable there on the bed, endless bare skin washed in amber candlelight, gazing over his shoulder at me with eyes bright creased by a grin. he's sprawled on his belly, knees bent and feet lazily kicking in the air, the draw and gather of his soft flesh offering peeks at his ass, arched up ever-so-slightly.

still buzzing under the possess of the wine from the feast, I think for a moment that I'm dreaming awake to see him there like that.

"took you long enough," he jests. "I've been waiting for you."

I look away and then look back, drawn by opposing manner and desire. my neck and cheeks are burning.

"oh, don't play so coy, knight. hardly a fresh sight to you."

I am suddenly very aware of my body in that most private of spaces, the heart of the prince's bedchamber. the room smells faintly of orange, cedar, and spice drifting in from the corridors like a wandering ghost. the air is chilled, but even entirely unclothed the prince doesn't seem bothered by it in the least.

he drops his legs to dangle his feet from the bed, peering keenly at me as he parts his knees just a touch. I could have guessed as much, but now there is no denying how wet he is, his cunt glistening and the hair there beaded with drips of slickness.

the rush of blood through my body leaves me dizzy. my tongue sits lame in my mouth.

"do you not think we deserve to celebrate amongst ourselves, something more intimate than the banquet?" he inquires, exaggerating an innocent tone.

he shifts again, rising up on his knees and pedestalling that perfect ass higher. I know now he must have been touching himself in my absence because I can smell him all over the bed even from paces away. as if reading my mind, he brings his right hand to his mouth and sucks his middle and ring fingers slowly, face still smushed to the bedspread as he angles his head to look back at me. he gives a light chuckle.

"say something, you dunce."

"I am... surprised," I manage to say. the only armour I have on is my chainmail, but the weight of it against my crotch is restriction enough to hurt. "sire, perhaps the festivities have gotten the better of you, I don't think..."

my words slip from my mouth when the prince slides a hand between his thighs and his fingers run against his swollen cock.

"you don't think what?"

"I... it's just... this is rather unbecoming," I protest, but I am already worrying at my gloves, distractedly tugging them off. "I would object none to closing the night with satisfying you, but I don't see how such a position—"

"you have done me good service the whole year through, gentle sir," insisted the prince, voice huskier. his fingertips trace his dripping hole. "it is the season of goodwill and giving. allow me to reward you for a job well done."

"your highness..."

"yes, sir knight?"

when his fingers dip inside of himself I flinch and my resolve slips.

I unclasp my cloak and let it fall to the floor. I move in a frenzy to kick out of my boots and shuck off my belt and breeches, brow drawn hard, watching my prince breathe a soft groan into the mattress. a moment later I am standing mid-stride and half-naked, still with my chainmail upon my torso veiling my released cock, hard and leaking against the chilled metal. I hesitate again a mere pace from the bed's border.

"my lord," I gasp out, "this isn't proper. to do this... to enter you like this would be..."

my hands hover at my sides. my palms ache for his hips. I want to dig my fingers into that giving flesh and hold him fast and fuck him like a devotee of pain worshipping their god in a brothel—but this is my prince I am lusting for so perversely.

"turn on your back, sire. let me please you with my mouth," I offer. my mouth waters as he draws his fingers from his well-slicked entrance.

"tonight is about your pleasure, knight. you can have me any way you want me. if that's truly what you desire, I will have no issue in obliging," coos the prince, smiling puckishly, "but something tells me that you'd like me to stay this way so you can ravish me just like this. am I wrong?"

he's eyeing my cock as it twitches, bouncing under my chainmail. the hunger on his face burns as bright as that in my guts, and the last of my resistance snaps.

I can't wait. I ruck up the bottom of the mail as I close in on him, grabbing at his ass and forcing his hips farther to the edge of the bed. he yelps but spreads himself diligently before me. I can feel his heat even before I position myself, priming with selfish strokes of my hard prick in my hand, grunting with my building anticipation.

"go on, my knight," huffs the prince, his hole twitching eagerly. "make me yours."

I want to draw it out, to savour him like this, to rub myself against his cunt until I can't stand it anymore, but impatience takes me. I slide bit by bit into him, pulling him in until flesh meets flesh and I am as deep as I can get.

he's moaning now, dreadfully loud, but I don't care about the risk of his voice carrying beyond the walls of his chambers. I am enveloped in pleasure and all I want is more. I try to grant mercy with a slow pace, but I need more of him, more of his slick cunt gripping me, and considerations of mercy are exceeding my reach.

I cannot help myself from slamming into him. my force knocks him back down his to belly and I follow, clambering atop my gasping prince, trapping him on the bed beneath me. he grabs at my arm when I plant a hand by his shoulder and the feel of his hands on my sleeve ground me a little. for a moment I slow.

"s-sire," I pant, my voice trembling. "you feel so good... you feel too good—"

"please, knight," he whimpers. from the pitiful sob in his voice I fear he may beg my halt. "please... don't stop, sir knight, please... ruin me."

like a struck pressure point, those words drive me back to relentless, wild rutting. the chainmail slaps between us and scrapes against the prince's back and ass, painting it a raw pink. I cover him with my body, dropping to my elbows and burying my face in the nape of his neck. I breathe in the scent of his hair and taste his skin with a stolen kiss as my ears fill with his beautiful cries.

"if I had known," I grunt, my voice tightening with each thrust, a harmony to the prince's choppy whines and sobs, "oh, your highness, if I had known what rapture it is to have you this way, to sink myself into you and keep you beneath me this way, by jesu, I would have taken you sooner." the words run together in a ramble as the tension in my gut tightens. "each time— each time you called upon me to kneel and please you, I would have laid you out and taken you like this, taken you and made you mine—my lord, my prince, oh god, mine, my own—!"

I do not ease my pace as I come inside my prince, lost to the pleasure. he is writhing beneath me and clawing at my arms, helpless and howling, chanting pleas of my name on strained breaths. for a moment I see stars and a ringing underlines the symphony of raw cries, striking flesh, and jingling mail.

I slow when the ringing fades. I can barely hold myself up but I do, lest I crush the prince entirely beneath me. gradually, my sense returns as my peak wanes.

"sire?" I huff. "are you... alright?"

a chuckle rumbles up against my ribcage between heavy breaths.

"don't tell me... you're bowing out now, knight... we have all night yet before christmas ends."

[strappedsword]

There are benefits to your knight's visor having a locking mechanism.

One benefit being - is once you put their helmet on them, you give them a deep kiss and lull them into making out with you. Get them to sit down so you can grind into them; it’s important to let your lord get handsy and eager to the point they’re moaning into your mouth, so that you know they’d chase after if you stopped. Once you’ve got them panting and trying to dominate you, give their lower lip a bite, then pull away from them. Shut and lock that visor in place like the good squire you are. Give the outside a drawn-out kiss for good measure and be content knowing you’ll be feeling the aftermath of this for the next few days.

The second benefit is safety.

[aroused-arachnid]

By the way if you interact and you call yourself a "fakeboy" just know I'm waiting until you're alone and then locking you in a room while I pin you down and edge you for hours until you're crying and apologizing. Wanting to get fucked stupid and submit doesn't make you a girl, it makes you a perverted dirty minded guy and you should be proud of that and I am going to make sure you know it.

[pretty-manufactured-boy-deactiv]

it's actually gender affirming to have a strap large enough to stretch out someone and make them cry that it's too big, it hurts, and still take it so well. so this is your sign to whimper and whine and cry around your local trans guy's largest strap <3