love how overstim makes me buck my hips like a wild fucking animal. how my body jolts, moves on pure instinct — desperate, mindless. but i can’t ever do it myself :( not really, anyway. not when i’m the one in control, when i can stop the second it gets too much.
need someone to pin me down, hold me still, and growl, ‘fucking take it.’ to ignore my whines and squirming, to force me to take more and more. until i’m shaking, until i can’t think, until all i know is the unbearable pleasure that won’t stop no matter how much i beg.
aaarrggrghrhrhrhh if only i could get my hands on a vibrator !!!!!!
i feel like we don't talk enough about sex vacations, especially kinky ones. being able to deep dive into a dynamic such as free use, completely and wholly for a set period of time, for example a weekend. having some type of plan (one that both agreed on, or perhaps one that includes some surprises) and a set of rules that ensure everything stays fun. perhaps you'd have a ritual at the beginning of the vacation to help you transition into the roles and the multi-day-scene you've built for yourself. i love the idea of waiting, kneeling by the door, ready for my dom to come home, but i wouldn't love to do it regularly in real life. being able to do it on vacation and then stay in that submissive role would be incredible. dressing sluttily for them, having them order me around while we enjoy our evening, cockwarming my dom while we eat, kneeling by their feet while we relax after dinner. and in the morning a new day starts, where i'm instantly thrown back into my submissive role, perhaps ordered to service my dom with oral before breakfast, perhaps made to cook breakfast with a vibrator in me.
hi there! ready for a bedtime story kiddo? settle down then, i have a good one for you tonight.
comfy?
good. now listen closely my dear.
˖ ˖ ˖ ˖ ⚬ ˖ ˖ ˖ ˖
Cat couldn't sleep. the sheets were tucked, the pillows fluffed and the night light on, yet still, cat couldn't sleep. they'd tried everything- tossing, turning curling to the tightest ball they could and squeezing their silver eyes closed as tight as they would, but nothing worked.
So soon cat's friend fox came to visit, hopping up to the star stained blanket where their dear friend lie, wide awake even as night swallowed the world beyond their little window- the blanket of silence doing little to ease the wiggles of their toes or the huffs of tired breaths.
"What's wrong?" fox asked at long last.
"i cant sleep." cat whined, tucking the sheets up just barely peeking over them.
"would a lullaby help?" fox asked, voice smoother than butter, softer than feathers.
"Foxes can't sing, can they?" cat asked, they'd never heard a song from a fox before.
"no, no they can't. but if you listen closely there's music all around you, dear friend" fox hummed, a clawed hand coming to run stripes through cat's fur.
"i don't hear any" cat argued, and fox only sighed.
"listen closer, listen to the crickets outside" they insisted, and cat did.
Beyond their curtain clad window were that familiar chirp chirp they'd grown so used to, each little chitter overlapping each other in quiet harmony as if rehearsed, as if practiced.
"i hear it" cat muttered, their pointy ear twitching to the rhythm.
"now, listen to the grass, and the fan and the dog three doors away, listen."
And cat did.
The silence of their room seemed to drown, drown in the sound. the grass whispered, tales no one could untangle swept beneath mighty ropes of emerald bathed in that silver light. the fan, tucked away to the corner of the room, whirred and rattled with melody constant, steady, wrapping cats head in its fluttering sound and the dog doors away chimed in too, his barks rippling threw the orchestra pulling weights to cat's eyes just barely holding themselves open.
"now," fox hummed, "listen to the moon"
"but the moon cant sing" cat objected, voice raspy with sleep.
"not if you dont listen close enough" fox promised, and so cat listened.
He listened and he listened as the crickets chirped on, as the grass swayed and the fan whirred on, dog's barks only seeming to usher their ears to the foggy cotton they couldn't avoid. and soon enough, in all the sound, in the oceans of voices and instruments, there they heard it. humms and whispers they could only assume were of the moon, silky light pooling in all around them as the world slipped by, eyes heaving closed and breath to even rasps.
"i told you, there's music everywhere"
And just like that cat was asleep, fox soon following behind them.
Here’s a bedtime story I wrote for you, my little stars
Snuggle up, I hope you enjoy it!
Winston the sleepy star ☆
Once there was a very sleepy star named Winston. They were very tired, but their cloud home got blown away! Where would the sleepy Winston sleep now?
The sleepy star had to search for a new place to sleep!
So the sleepy star began their search. They decided to try the moon! The moon was always very kind and quiet, so she was a good fit.
So Winston asked the moon politely if they could sleep with her for the night. She said “Yes, of course, little star!” So Winston found a cozy crater and set down their pillow and blanket. With a yawn and a stretch, they played down and began dozing…
But wait! Eek, Moon’s surface is too rough to sleep on! “I’m sorry Mrs. Moon, but I just can’t get cozy! I’m going to sleep somewhere else, but I hope you have a goodnight!”, the moon smiled warmly and responded, “That’s ok, little star, I hope you have a goodnight as well”
And so, Winston set off to find a new place to sleep.
They tried the sun, but he was way too warm! Warmer than Winston! “Sorry Mr. Sun, but I cant sleep with all this heat.”
And so the Sun replied, “that’s ok little star, I hope you find somewhere soon!”
And so the star continued searching. The asteroids were too rough, the clouds already had other stars living in them, and the earth was an unfamiliar temperature.
“…Winston? What’re you doing still out? You should be asleep”, called Winston’s star friend, Ollie. “Huh? Oh, hi Ollie! My home blew away, and I can’t find anywhere else to sleep…” Winston said to her, to which she replied, “You don’t have anywhere to sleep? Hmm… did you try Mrs. Moon?”, Winston nodded, “Mx. Earth? Mr. Sun? The asteroids?” Winston said yes to all of them. “I did, but none of them felt right… Aw, I’m so sleepy.” Ollie thought and thought… she really wanted to help her friend!
And then it came to her. “Oh! You can sleep in my cloud home!”
“Really? You’d really let me sleep there? Oh, thanks Ollie! I’m so glad you’re my friend,”
They skipped along to Ollie’s home. When they got there, Winston layed down, and yawned so big that the Moon giggled.
Winston and Ollie slept very well, and had the sweetest dreams.
CW: Yandere, Serial Killers, Murder, Themes of Obsession & Possessiveness, Violence, Threats, Weapons, Slight Suggestive (Vil), Stalking
Riddle, who operates as a vigilante, insisting that he's only breaking the law to enforce it. He only ever aims for those he believes have committed the worst of atrocities, claiming that going after any less could allow those who truly deserve a beheading an escape. His signature consists of always beheading any heinous criminals.
Riddle, who's a childhood friend of yours, being one of the few kids his mother ever allowed him near. He admires your strive to abide the law, with your occupation of Investigator. Probably fell for you after being a part of the small handful of people he could see. He's especially ruthless towards any delinquents who've ever had a problem with you. Anyone who's even whispered ill of you is swiftly found in a field, their head only. Another strike by the rogue Vigilante... You have no idea it's Riddle who gets rid of those who obstruct your justice, as well as any who attempt to assist you in it... Whether your enemy or a potential love interest, he's quick to leave them headless in the bushes. You also have no idea that he purposefully leaves them in more obvious locations for you to find. He's not a fool, of course, he won't tell you outright that he's "helping" you. But a part of him hopes he can communicate just how much he cares for you. You view it as a sign that this executioner is coming for you. Everyone else, however, starts believing you're the criminal.
Riddle, who's quick to panic when he sees you arrive in the field he's currently in, finishing off another miscreant. He hopes so much that you won't catch him in such a light. His hopes are crushed when he sees the horror in your face as you look at him. Your expression is not filled with that familiar adoration you hold for him, but fear. He's profusely apologizing as you make a run for it, a searing pain felt in the back of your head.
"I... I will make sure to treat you carefully." Everything is hazy, but you can dully feel the sensation of arms wrapping around you. You're sure this is the last thing you'll feel before you die, so you wrap what you can around him, a hand weakly grasping his elbow. "... I'll uphold the rules for you..." ... What?
You wake up in his basement, where he tells you he'll make sure to punish criminals twice as much to make up for your absence in the workforce. His task is to get rid of anyone who wishes to find you; yours is to get out and find proof of your innocence, before you're executed for crimes that aren't yours.
Your goal? Reporting to your office about the true culprit of the beheading case. His goal? Making sure you stay safe as he gets rid of the rule breakers in the community. Even if some of them are your coworkers.
Azul, who doesn't do it out of enjoyment (Unlike his slippery twin company...) but necessity, or so he claims. It's simple, really; they agreed to repay him, and they haven't. He can't simply let that be, can he? He needs everyone else to know it's not wise to disobey agreements. But... while he claims to Jade and Floyd, he doesn't do this out of some innate desire to kill... he doesn't exactly prove himself right when he insists on doing that part all by himself. He always has someone else do the dirty work if possible, but when it comes to the end, he seems eager to do it himself.
Azul, who's on his way to "visit" someone who's failed to pay back. By the time he arrives, it's clear they were ready to leave as soon as they could. Unfortunately, they took too long to actually get to the escape part of the plan. He's swift to get to work, his skillfully hands leaving the scene cruel and stainless. It truly reminds him of the sea—
Azul, who perks up when he hears something fall in a room over. He knows the chances of them calling the police after he leaves are high. No witnesses are allowed in this field of business. The door is kicked open, a slick business suit clean of any crime stepping inside. The room is windowless, so really, he knows the only spot's the closet. His gun points to the closed doors, a single click telling whoever's inside that they'll be dead in a mere seconds. He counts down with no further explanation, and the moment he reaches one, he's ready to pull the trigger... Until you throw open the doors. It really doesn't matter in the end though, closed or not he can't allow you to tell anyone what has happened— Wait... You...?
Slowly, the gun is put down, your face pleading as you stare at him with teary eyes.
"I—I promise I won't tell anyone you killed my boyfriend...! Please...! H-He wasn't even any good! He sucked...! He sucked so bad I-I was gonna break up with him anyway...! Please don't kill me...!" In some desperate attempt to lure the gun away from him, you lunge forward, hugging his waist, your hand specifically gripping his bicep. He knows you're about to do everything to get it from him, so he knocks you out before you can. When you're on the floor, he has every attempt to finish the job. Instead, he kneels down, pulling you into his arms as he looks closer at you... He knows he's not dreaming now.
You're the mer he was desperately in love with before his rise to power.
Your goal? Abide by the contract Azul has set out for you until you have a plan of escape. His goal? Performing all the courting acts, he didn't have the confidence to do back then.
Jamil works as an assassin who gets rid of the world's most corrupt wealth. It's a job he takes seriously. The entire premise of the profession essentially has him choosing fate.
He's on another job. In fact, he's already lining up the shot, before a knife flies past his face, the force being felt on his skin.
"Hi, Jamil." You prop yourself right next to him, your eyes falling on his rifle.
You.
He's already lifting the thing to your face before you lie down on his lap. He's half tempted to push you off the roof before remembering how obvious that would make his position.
"What are you doing?" He mutters, realigning the shot as you fake sleep. When he doesn't seem to care, you peek an eye open, sitting up to watch him aim, as if you were shooting too.
"I wanted to see you."
"Why would you want that?" he mutters, his eyes glancing at you for a single moment.
"Dunno. You're fun to talk to, I guess..." He hums at the confession, as if it doesn't affect him very much. "... Even if I'm the one doing most of it..." You watch as he pulls the trigger, immediately standing up to flee. He grabs your hand to run away with him, as if you're not in the same exact profession as him.
He really wishes he had a request to end you... Maybe then he'd stop caring about what happens to you.
...
Imagine his surprise when he actually gets the job to kill you.
"D-Did I annoy you too much...? Jamil, I'm sorry, I really did just enjoy talking to you—" Your hands remain up in the air as your back hits the wall, a picture frame falling. Jamil catches it before it can shatter. It's a photo of you smiling, the sun kissing you just right. Very different from your expression now, shrouded in shadow as you await the inevitable.
You close your eyes when you stare down the barrel of the same man you've grown to like. You don't mutter anything else. You know Jamil is very set in his determination to finish a job. And so, you wait for the quick pain.
Except it never comes. Instead, you are met with the feeling of cold metal hitting you across the face, unconscious slipping into your brain.
"I'm sorry for this." is the last thing you hear.
The next time you wake up, you're met with a house you've never been in. No matter how many times you try opening the doors or breaking the windows, nothing works.
Until you're met with... Jamil, in regular clothes. Carrying a handful of groceries as if he weren't the same man who had assassinated the most influential businessmen in history.
"What would you like for dinner?"
D... Dinner...?!
Your goal? Figuring out what his ulterior motive is for keeping you there. His goal? Making sure his employers don't realize he didn't complete his job because he's obsessed with you.
Even if it means taking down those investigators.
Vil, who specifically goes for fans. It would be expected if he took out rivals. And if he did, there would be no satisfaction in reaching the top, with no rivals, would there? So instead, he targets owners of popular fan pages. The moment there's a pattern that gets released to the public, suddenly that celebrity seems to lose more and more of their following as time passes. All the way until they've hit rock bottom, taken in for questioning with their 'fan' disappearances. No matter how hard they plead their case, there's always some foolproof evidence that shows their guilt. But they swear they didn't do it!
Vil, whose next victim is you. You seem to be the last of Neige's major fan pages, standing tall amongst all the panic in his fans. It's perfect, really. He's about to set up his little plan for the following week, when he finds out the truth of your identity.
You're the [Name].
While not nearly as big of a name as Neige, you're a rising star in the acting industry. In fact... Vil is meant to be acting alongside you as love interest in his next movie. It's... an interesting side plot in his scheme. He has a rule for his victims. While one day, he might finally disregard it and get rid of a genuine competitor, today won't be the day. So instead, Vil waits. He waits until he finally meets you face-to-face on set. And, to call you beautiful might be an understatement. Of course, there's always room for improvement, but he might need a minute to figure out exactly what needs to be enhanced... He'll figure it out later.
Vil watches with a careful eye as you happily interact with the staff, even talking to him like you were close acquaintances at most. It's interesting. Not only are you Neige's biggest supporter, but there's something... off. He can tell. He can tell even more so a month into the film, after the two of you finish your on-screen kiss. But he won't deny it, you're quite skilled in your department. It's admirable. It's a moment that would be filled with passion, with Vil's hands viciously moving from place to place on your body as your arms wrap around his neck, as your mouths exchange unspoken words.
He's about to ask you about your comfort level before spotting notes you had left open on your phone. And goodness, what notes they are. You should be careful as to what the public could see.
Though that doesn't matter. Not when the two of you are breaking co-worker guidelines and booking a private suite in the nearest hotel. A place where no camera can find you two as you perform the same sensual scene, in the privacy of that room.
As you sleep, Vil sees your notes again, and he breaks a nail as he wonders. Wonders if... he's merely a replacement for your obsession.
... You wake up to a bedroom that isn't the one you fell asleep in. And there are pictures, ones in a similar fashion to the ones on your own wall. Except, instead of millions of photos of Neige, it's a million... of you. Covers of you frame a board with several other celebrities, and connected fan accounts. The x's on certain pictures tell you enough of whose house you're in, and what they've done. But... imagine your fear when the same killer you thought was coming after you is your co-star?
"Here's the deal." Vil sets a glass of wine in front of you. "You'll become my lover in public, with you secretly running Neige's fan account while slowly feeding the internet his dark truths. And in turn..." A long nail takes hold of your chin, his thumb brushing over your lip. He thinks you really are pretty up close. "I won't tell anyone how deep your obsession with him really goes."
And so, you're living and working with the same man who might end you both publicly and physically. Little do you know, he might've unintentionally grown just as obsessed with you.
Your goal? Breaking out of this deal as soon as possible. His goal? Dragging everyone else's reputation down as he revels in the spoils of having Neige's number one fan in his arms. Though, he'll make sure you come around.
Rook, who is actually a copycat. A copycat... after you. Your brows furrow as you stare at the TV, seeing once again a familiar crime that isn't your doing. Truly... when will this guy give up? Maybe he even knows your identity long before you have a suspect in your copycat case. You're plastering all of his walls, cute heart scribbles on there that he takes pride in. When he leaves his home, he says goodbye to each frame as if it were the genuine article. But there's no fear in that, because soon, it will be the real you!
Rook is a regular at the cafe you work at. You strike a good balance between being kind enough to clients so they won't hate you, and being nonchalant enough to slightly show you don't wish to be there. Goodness..! He could admire you for days! You've noticed, though. The blonde regular might have a staring problem... He always seems to order the same thing, which, coincidentally, is the same order you always get.
…
"Oh my...! Trickster, are you okay?" You stare through tired eyes at the familiar blonde in front of you. It's dark in the alleyway. An alley that was supposed to be void of witnesses, but here he is... Rook was it? The only other living person in this space.
Who can see the large garbage bag you're dragging behind you... And... is smiling at the suspicious scene? You lick your lips, your hand already on your blade's handle. It wouldn't take much to end your witness here, but carrying two bodies is so much effort... Maybe... Your arm is about to swing at Rook, your threat on the tip of your tongue, before he's pulling you in—by the waist?!
"Non non! I admire your work!" He's spinning you around, and you can't even question what's happening. You spot the bag being effortlessly carried by your stalker, a bright smile on his mouth despite the dim lighting of night.
... What?
"But... My Trickster, while you are truly magnifique... You must be—" He can't even finish that sentence, before he's slinging the trash bag over his shoulder to catch you with one arm. "... Much more vigilant."
You don't remember what happened after that.
You glare at the blonde through your lashes, judging every image on his wall. Somehow, every spot you look at has a new picture you didn't see before. The sight of your work has you realizing that this man is your copycat.
And now, you're stuck listening to him admire your work, even going so far as to wish for your hands on him to end his life. A part of you wants to do it, just to shut him up, but you know he'd enjoy it far too much...
While he essentially lets you live out your life like normal, he's always at your side, even when he's not right next to you.
Your goal? Figuring out how to get your crazed stalker copycat fan out of your life!!! His goal? Being your magnifique partner in crime!
Idia, who has a victim preference for extroverts. He knows there's a reason that the chances of seeing an extrovert in public are much higher than it is for introverts, doesn't stop the fact that he hates it.
Seriously... He just wants to leave his house to an empty city where no one wants to talk to him...! It's why he does what he does. Whenever he comes across a new normie in public, he's pulling up their address, social media, passwords, search history, and so much more. All so he can end their online presence before doing the same to their physical form.
So he's already doing that the moment you come up to him. Oh you... You just exude so much extroverted energy... Bet you don't even know about the depth of Kingdom—
"You like Premo too?" You chirp in from the side, and he's already scowling. Really, you just had to come up to him...! Grasping at straws for social interaction... Do all extroverts do that, seriously???
"Y-yeah..." Stop talking...!
"Have you gone to their recent concerts? Wow, they really do put out so much hype." ... Keep going. "I could never like them for just their looks. They really don't have that sparkly in-your-face promoting like other idol groups. And their voices are so mature and—sorry..." Huh... "I just thought I'd bring it up cause uhm..." You're an extrovert. "... I thought you were kinda cute..."
... What?
Idia, who is stalking you not because he wants to take you out (in the death kinda way) like the rest of those extroverts, but because now he has a genuine... Interest...!? Wow, he's fallen so low. His yesterday self would be so disappointed.
And of course... your page is—actually... normal? You have a set schedule, but your face is kinda barely there? You... post nerd material!!!
You're... could it be... you're... an introvert?! One who... Broke the introvert code to tell him he was cute, of all things?!!?!?
Everywhere you go, after going up to that stranger, you feel a chill run up your spine, like something is watching you go about your day. It isn't until your extroverted friends who drag you out to meet new people start disappearing... do you fear this feeling is something much more than just being watched.
Your goal? Figuring out who's taking out all your friends. His goal? Making sure to get those normies out of your life!!!
Malleus, whose killings are actually pretty spontaneous. He has no set rhythm or rhyme to it. Except well...
"Malleus? What are you doing outside? You know it's like, raining, right?" You quickly usher the soaked man into your home, his hair dripping onto your floors. You take no mind to it, a feature he's come to very much like about you.
He's lucky for the rain, truthfully. It has washed away all evidence of his crimes. The blood that had previously stained his fingers, wiped away by washing his hands through the pouring water.
"Has anyone else tried to talk to you, dear?" Malleus inquires as you wrap a blanket around his shoulders, your body sitting a few feet from him. A part of him wishes to ask you to come closer, but he knows such things take time.
"Uhm... The police?" He slows at the words. "They're... They're suspicious of me." You spit out, curling into your knees as you speak. "They think I killed all of them... B-But I know—I swear I didn't...!"
"Why do they think it is you?"
"All the victims are people who tried talking to me..." He hums at the acknowledgment. "It's just a coincidence, right? But what if they... come for people I care about...?" You jump when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder, Malleus closing the distance between you on the couch.
I have already thought of that. Malleus clears his throat before speaking.
"I'm sure it will be fine. I will be here to protect you." There's a weird emphasis on the you, but you take no notice of it.
"Thank you, Malleus..."
You'll have no idea that while you're sleeping peacefully in bed, Malleus is out in the night, his hands stained with those who come even close to you.
Malleus, who does have a victim preference.
Those who try to take his spot at your side.
Your goal? Clearing your name of these murders. His goal? Stopping any possible suitors from taking you away. Including the same police who wish to charge you.
Skully, who kills in the name of Jack Skellington! He goes about his days perfectly normal. A normal student, a normal child, a normal friend, sort of... Of course, there's a certain oddity to him. He's pretty quiet and unnoticeable to the population. They have no idea that the recent missing cases in their community are due to whispers in his ears.
Little does he know that Jack Skellington doesn't exist. It's not a figment of his imagination, however. It's... a manifestation of his affection for his darling. The truth of the matter is, he kills for them, because they believe Jack Skellington to be real.
...
You're the one telling him to kill.
The moment you wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning into his ear with a soft whisper, he's already prepping his axe and thinking of all the ways to fullfill your desires! After all, you're the Sally to his Jack Skellington...
Oughh... That's so embarrassing to admit...! But it's the truth. Which is exactly why he lays his head in your lap after each success, as you both trade affection-filled words into each other's ears. He reminds you of a dog in that way. Especially with how he jumps at the chance to satisfy you.
You watch as he quickly ends those coworkers of his who always ridicule his obvious obsession with you.
Really, man... you're so obsessed with them it's kinda pathetic. I mean, have some autonomy—
He can't finish that sentence. He has no voice to finish it with when Skully does what needs to be done.
It's not allowed... Really... No one is allowed to belittle his affection for you. He'd do anything for you after all! You... You saved him from the horrible life he was living. If it weren't for the love you shower him in, he's not even sure he would have any motivation in life! You're... You're perfect.
Skully, who kills in your name.
Your goal? Loving Skully as much as you can. His goal? Making sure you know how much he loves you.
Just wait until I finally get my hands on you. Chocking around your neck. Grabbing your face to make you look at me. Holding you down. Feeling your silhouette. Pulling at your clothes. Sliding up your thigh. On you. Inside of you.
i want to buy a pretty girl some lingerie and make her wear it over a vibrator. then i'll put her on my lap and set it just high enough to make her whimper. she'll start grinding on my thigh and bucking her hips, grasping for even a bit of relief.
i'll ask "just a little more, huh baby?" as i finally give her what she wants.
but i won't stop once she cums. every time she moans i'll turn it up, making her wet thighs tremble while she tells me she can't handle any more. what's wrong? too sensitive for me now, cutie?
when she starts whining, i'll set it even higher, overstimulating her until she's so lost in pleasure that she can't get out one more word.
Strapping you down to my exam table… running my gloved hands all over your sensitive body while you whine and twitch… gently pulling on your nipples to hear your cute little gasps… telling you how pretty you look all laid out for me. Putting some lube on my gloved fingers and warming it up a bit before starting to gently finger you open… stroking every sensitive spot inside you while you struggle… so perfect for me 🖤
Something about a doctor taking advantage of me is so yummy! It really shouldn't be but the idea of going to the doctor and getting fucked is insane. Especially as someone who actually doesn't really like doctors. I wanna walk all shy and nervous into the room. I'm just crazy to get it over with, he tells me to strip but doesn't leave the room. I'm your doctor sweetheart, it's okay but his eyes glance at me like I'm prey.
I always have a hard time getting on the examination table. Having him press his body against me and manhandle me onto it. Me squeaking at how strong he is also because he was just between my legs. His bulge against my bare cunt and the moment he pulls away in squeezing my thighs closed. Him doing regular check up stuff until he starts groping my tits. Telling me I'm being so good as I try not to squirm. Telling myself that this is all normal doctor things.
Lay back for me, spread your legs, and place them right here. He guides me and I try to cover up as I listen. This isn't that kind of appointment why could he be doing this? But I don't dare to question him since he is a doctor, he knows best. We both tug on my gown and he smiles at me, sweetheart... I need you to let go so I can do my job. He says in a sweet tone but his grip is tight as he yanks the gown away. You look all healthy! But I need a more...hands on approach to make sure. This might feel weird, he says as he starts to play with my clit.
Sir! I try to close my legs but he's strapping them down quickly then going back to what he was doing. I know sweetie but it will be over soon, all girls need to go through this exam. I'm panting and trying to behave. Acting like it's not feeling so good as he mutters some fancy medical terminology to say I'm wet. Him forcing an orgasm out of me as I cover my mouth and tear up embarrassed. Everything seems good outside but I need an internal look and then we are all good! I feel his fingers push into me and whimper. He fingers me for a couple seconds before playing concerned.
Looks like I'll need a deeper feel, he sighs and pulls his fingers out. Quickly undoing his belt and pushing them down enough to free his cock. There will be some discomfort but just for a second, okay sweetheart? Wait...sir I don't think I need this part, I try to reason but he's already pushing in. I gasp and grab the table tightly. I hear him moan softly, just right... As he starts slowly thrusting into me. I can feel how healthy you are! You are such a good girl taking care of your body, he praises. Since this is your first check up like this you'll need a special medicine. Special medicine? I whimper as another orgasm is forced out of me.
There could be some side effects of this medicine, okay? He moans softly and tightens his grip on my hips. Morning sickness, cravings, and more... His thrusts become a little more desperate. Before I can get another word out he's fucking his cum into me. I whimper and lay tired on the exam table as he pulls out. He fixed my gown and makes me sit up to look at him. You did such a good job! One of the best girls for her first appointment here. I expect to see you again in a couple months. He's fixing his pants and walking towards the door. The nurse will be in shortly to help you finish up.
This was inspired by these videos that have been my obsession this weekend.
So we all know the Erik is pretty messed up because of his trauma and lack of a normal upbringing and like this could be something everyone has already assumed but do y'all think growing up in the opera house influenced his perception of love?
Like he never really had any healthy example to go off of and was isolated in the opera house his whole life. He grew up hearing all the plays and operas performed, and we all know relationships in theater are rarely healthy and are often quite toxic when taken out of the glamorized setting. So of course when Erik meets Christine and he wants her all he has to go off of in wooing her is the dramatic operas he grew up hearing and watching.
Idk if this was pretty obvious but it’s something I thought of and a factor to consider when analyzing his actions and mindset in doing what he did. He’s definitely a bit of a tragic “monsters aren’t born, they’re made” kind of character.
A SCI-FI/CYBERPUNK TWST AU CENTERED AROUND THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL
TAGS!! (i decided against using a separate tag list! if you want to be tagged in territory au related things, ask to be added to my usual taglist which includes my other art things too)
OC SUBMISSIONS OPEN SOON. HEARTSLABYUL UNIT PROFILES OPEN SOON. MORE INFORMATION SOON!
FAQ IS OPEN AND WILL BE ADDRESSED ON THE MASTERLIST POST!! (Unless the question is answered in future lore drops) ask me wherever
This is a passion project that has turned into a lot more than i initially thought. i'm putting a lot of love into it, so i'd really appreciate a reblog if you're comfy w/ that <3
Welcome to wonderland~✨ @urlocalshroomdealer - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
