This is a dead dove smut loving blog
and a remake of my previous kink side blog. I got locked out of the old one and couldn’t edit it so I gave up and remade. Slowly queueing all my old posts so I don’t spam.
kinks you’ll prob see get reblogged: humiliation, medfet, CNC, incest, bdsm, petplay, non/dub, detrans (but also gender affirming. Into both for me), kidnap, breeding, monster fucking, Oviposition, objectification, the many many wonders of edge and denial
There’s a chance I’ll post my art if I feel inspired! I don’t draw smut as much as I used to and it’ll probably be self insert fantasy stuff. Idk. I’m just having fun
I want a dom to lie me on my back and tie me up so I'm all spread out. I'm wearing nothing but my boxers and I'm already desperate. "haven't even touched you and there's a wet patch," they laugh, tapping it with one finger and making me moan, "hard little dick pressing against the fabric, wet little slut hole leaking all over your ass." I whine and nod and blink. "your slutty body trying to get your ass ready to be fucked, huh? That's why you're dripping all over it, isn't it?" I roll my hips against the air, chasing friction and getting none. "soaking your boxers like a desperate whore. Your body's way of begging for me." I whine out a desperate, "please" and they rumble out a laugh, "no, pet, not yet," rubbing a thumb over my cock they smile, "let him beg some more."
keep thinking ab birth fantasies. theres something so humiliating and invasive about the whole thing: your personhood lowered to the status of an incubator for something else, the high medicalisation where crowds of doctors examine your intimate anatomy and desecrate your modesty. I love the idea of your partner sat close by, allowing the doctors to do their procedures without consulting you. The immense pain of it all compared to the rational, pragmatic and kind of apathetic doctors, the insanity caused by no one sharing your panic and pain.
a fantasty ive been having recently is that after a gynecological exam, the patient is unwittingly sedated, and finds themselves in an operating theatre. labia spread open by forceps and a speculum hinged open inside their vagina, the surgeons dilate the cervix as the sub silently experiences the full pain. through the cervix, they insert a device that expands inside the uterus, that the patient is forced to give birth to to test their body's reaction to labour. Imagine having the indignity of being forced to have a pseudo birth at a routine gynecologist appointment, to ensure you're good stock for breeding
there’s more than enough room for the human that wandered so willingly into your nest of coils. it’s only suspended on two little feet, so it’s easy to wrap around an ankle and yank it in.
it falls easy too, waving its stiff little limbs and making a funny yelping sound. it never touches the ground – you encoil it securely, a few thick limbs wrapped around its middle and a few more under its back for support, and gently pull it in for a closer feel.
it’s a little difficult when the thing is so wiggly, so you tighten down on it and reach with a few thinner, more flexible tendrils.
it’s warm, is the first thing you notice. everywhere you touch is hot, even over the – it’s got some kind of loose, soft, outer… shell? you can get a tendril under it, and it’s unbroken flesh on the inside just like the outer parts. oh, that makes it extra wiggly. it’s making a lot of noise.
you feel around for where the noise is coming from. you can feel it vibrating against you where you’re wrapped around its chest, and even more in the tendril coiling around its throat. it’s got some holes in the head, if you keep following the vibrations up… there, that’s probably it. you slip a tendril in to muffle the sound.
oh, it’s wet. that feels very nice. it’s pushing at you with a hot, wet little organ – does it have a tentacle of its own? you feel it out with your suckers, wrapping around it and sucking at it. it’s smooth… it’s not very big. it is cute, though. how far back does this hole go?
it’s– it’s squeezing its hole around your tendril as you reach farther in. that feels– that feels very nice. you’re getting distracted.
i really wish someone would trick me. I wish someone would bend me over and promise they were using a condom. And they do, at first.
Then we switch positions. He drags me up and handcuffs me to the bed. Then, he slowly takes off the condom and shoves it inside me. He takes it out, then he puts it back in. Taunting me, humiliating me. He makes me look him in the eyes as he fucks me raw and cums deep inside me.
He holds himself inside me for a long while. He wants to get me pregnant, of course, so that now I'll never be able to leave him.
At the end of it all, he leans down and whispers in my ear: "that's a good girl."
Imagining my Dom taking me to a doctor because they're worried about me touching myself all the time.
I protest, but there's nothing I can do and once the Dom promises me a reward if I'm a good boy, I am sold on the idea. In the doctor's office, the Dom comes with me and tells the doctor about my problem while I'm sitting there, fiddling with my shirt, unable to look away from the floor.
The doctor then has me undress, and my Dom gives me a threatening look when I hesitate before removing my boxers as well. I'm told to climb up onto the stirrups, and before I can react, the doctor fastens belts around my arms, legs and stomach so I won't be able to move. "Just a precaution," he says, as he roughly shoves a large thick thermometer inside my ass, making me yelp, "We don't want him moving around too much during the check-up". He takes out a measuring tape and measure my tdick, and double checks before measuring it again. "That is really small, even for a man like him - or should I say boy, looking at the size of this?" My dom laughs a little, and I try to squirm. My cock is already fully erect, as big as it can get, and hearing the doctor say this makes me want to close my legs, but they're securely fastened to be spread wide in the stirrups.
The doctor starts rubbing my chest, and I gasp as he harshly twists and rolls my nipples - already erect from the cold - between his fingers. "His sensitivity here seems to be normal," the doctor notes, eyeing my tcock - still hard, but not reacting much. "But if you want, it can be increased with time." He moves to rub and press on my stomach, and once he's done with that, forcefully grabs the thermometer that has been inside me this whole time and takes it out, leaving my hole convulsing around nothing. "Looks like he needs something back here," the doctor moves his fingers under my tcock to cover them in my slick, and roughly starts fingering me with two of his fingers, noting how my tcock twitches every time he goes deeper. "Does he experience penetration often, or does he mostly pleasure himself with touching this... Shrimp?" The doctor asks, letting his free hand gently rub my tdick. My Dom shakes their head, "I've been busy lately and haven't penetrated him much, he mostly rubs himself for pleasure." I'm about to come, and the doctor notices it as I clench myself around his fingers. "What a needy, naughty boy, trying to come without permission," he takes out his fingers and cruelly pinches the head of my tiny sensitive tcock between his fingernails, making me howl.
"I think I see the problem. It's not healthy for boys with tiny cocks to rub themselves too much, it makes them forget their discipline and can even hurt them. I have just the perfect solution for you," The doctor goes and takes an ice cube from a freezer in his office to press it against my tcock, making it deflate and shrink even more until you can barely see it's there. Then, he takes out a small metal device - a tiny, minuscule solid cage - and fastens it against my body with soft rope so it presses tight against my tcock. I whine, desperately looking at my Dom who seems to be thoroughly enjoying this.
The doctor motions for him to come over once he's done. "This device should stop him from getting hard - boys with small cocks can't really control themselves when they're hard, this is the easiest solution. I'll give you a lock and a key so only you can undo the ropes. In the meanwhile, make sure to have him penetrated at least once per day, a toy or a plug will do. That way he'll learn to cum just from being penetrated, since it's such a pain to try and rub something this small."
I'm still wet and desperate as we leave, and the doctor tells us to come back in 2 weeks to see my progress. For some reason, I feel my tcock futilely try to harden already as we get home - but the cage painfully presses against it, and all I can do is rub the smooth metal and whine. My Dom smiles at me, starting to take off their pants. "You heard what the doctor said. It's time for me to give you a special medicine."
This is going to be a very long and frustrating 2 weeks.
Oh, you really think you’d be able to hold back if I really wanted to make you cum?
How about this: I tie you up and play with you while you try your best to hold back and not have an orgasm. But if I succeed, you submit to me and give me complete control of your orgasms.
Because if I can just make you cum whenever I want, you were never actually in control, were you?
Oh sweetie…is that a wet spot on your panties already?
In the mood to tie you down and trace my fingers or a pen all over your body, telling you which bones I'm touching or where your organs are located. I'm going to go slowly and keep touching, using you as an anatomy lesson. Who knows what'll happen when I get through marking all your body though..
Oh god yes. I can't move or struggle, and you've probably gagged me so I can't protest. All I can do is stare up at you from where I'm restrained on the hard metal operating table as you slowly, meticulously mark each part of me. Making notes of any abnormalities, occasionally remarking how eager you are for further exploration....
You didn't expect this when you were sent out by the king to slay the dragon. Your back is pressed against a large scaled chest, rough hands gently caressing your body. A warm breath is in your ear, a rumbling purr heard in-between the beast's praises. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet little knight. Letting me take care of you like this...like you deserve." Trying to muffle your moans within the crook of his neck only earns you an amused chuckle in return. A clawed finger lifts your chin, while his other hand travels further down between your legs. "My poor little knight...I beg you, please don't hide those precious little moans. I want to hear how desperate you’re getting for me." A trail of kisses is left upon your neck and shoulder, the hand beneath your chin tipping it further back, allowing the beast better access to the more sensitive areas. Your hands fist the fine silks laid beneath the both of you, you grip them for purchase but can’t help using the new leverage to buck and grind your hips against his hand. "That's it darling, take what you need... so needy and sweet for me. Don't have to worry about anything else but being a good little knight for me. And good little knights know how to follow orders, don't they? So, you'll be good and cum for me won't you?"
You’re just trying to take the subway. Unfortunately, the guys riding with you have different plans, and they’re not taking ‘No’ for an answer.
Click under the cut for fingering, groping, praise, being stripped and fucked in public, nasty kissing, and impending public gang rape. Transmasc protag who gets called a slut and has their hole referred to as a pussy.
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Today I'm fantasizing about… my doctor abusing me when I go in for an IUD removal. Legs wide open in the stirrups, drowsy from an anti anxiety pill. The doctor spreads my lips open, strokes me, inspecting my pussy before pushing two fingers inside. I grunt softly. They pet my thigh, shushing me gently, fingering lube into me until they reach my cervix, and the IUD strings hanging from it. They tug, testing the placement, and I whimper. Another shush, and they stroke my clit as they pull their fingers out. My hips rock a little as I get needy. I hear a clatter of tools moving on the table. Cold plastic slides inside me now, making me shiver. Still stroking my clit, the doctor pushes the speculum into my cervix and begins to spread it open. I groan. They roll my clit as my uterus tenses, then relaxes, and I moan needily as they stroke me and spread me. My hips rock again. The doctor grips the IUD and counts down from three. On three, they begin sucking on my clit, and quickly pull the device out of my body. I cry out, the pain hidden by their tongue circling my clit, soon making me cum while my cervix gapes open around the tool. I groan "Fuck" over and over, dazed, dripping onto the table. They pull back and inspect my pussy again. Watching my body clench at the clear plastic holding it open. My defenseless uterus displayed for them. They stand, cock in stroking hand, hard and dripping precum all the way to the floor. Jerking off the whole time I've been on the table. I try to ask what they're doing. They shush me, step forward, and begin to pulse streams of thick cum into my open, unprotected womb. I whimper, I moan, too drugged to move. They groan lowly, watching their massive load slide down the speculum and literally filling my uterus. When they're done impregnating me, they carefully close the speculum, locking their cum inside me. They stroke my clit again, pull the tool out, and immediately push their still-hard cock in its place. I cry out, aching, and needy again. They moan as they fuck me. Their cock is warm and thicker than the speculum, veins bulging and girth spreading me even more as they thrust. Stroking my clit slowly. Gently forcing me to take their cock all the way in. Pushing at my sensitive cervix. I whimper. I moan. I swear as they push in and out and swirl my clit into confusion. I cum again. Pussy suckling on their cock. The doctor fucks me harder, faster as I tremble. They grunt. Swear. And as they flood my pussy with another load, waves of cum pool at my cervix, waiting to sneak inside. I whimper. They shush me, fucking their second load inside with their softening cock until it slides out and my pussy oozes cum.
okay but thinking about being stuck on a thick knot and not able to move as it just pumps more and more cum in, every so often just another pulse and a twitch and getting heavier which only traps you more firmly on that thick stretch…
Your father, by any account, is the most important human within a hundred miles. So, even as the streets became more and more frequented by those hulking green-skinned beasts, you ought to have been safe. Off-limits.
Why, then, are you strapped to a table, arms by your sides, legs parted and held in place by thick leather belts?
Your father is an important man. But even the most important man is not an orc. And as it happens, the orc who you saw walking down the high street, arms laden with books, from your seat on the veranda of a city salon, and turned to your companion and murmured "I doubt the beast can even read the covers of all those..." That was the orcish Governor's new alchemist.
The Governor did not take the insult lightly.
He might have taken your family's holdings, his lands and business, for your slight. Instead your own father suggested another trade. The alchemist, you see, is always in need of subjects. In one sense, you commanded quite a high price. That could have been a comfort. Of course, the alchemist also insisted on paying in coin, and in that sense you fetched half the gold of a milk cow.
And so though that morning you had woken in a fine four-poster bed under sheets of silk, night falls on you trapped in a cramped workshop, your legs spread as the orc alchemist peered between your thighs and inspected their purchase. Stroking, spreading, stimulating, penetrating - hands gloved all the while, as though your body was precious and infectious.
If they were smug and sneering, it might be bearable. Or cruel and mocking, or even lascivious. Anything you could mount resistance to. But they offer none of that. Only cool, undisturbed silence as they examine you. The same silence as the examination goes on, and you break yours.
It isn't your choice. Of course it isn't. It's your body's reaction - you feel no ownership over it. And the panting moans that grow louder and louder, you don't own those either - or the trembling that shakes down through your hips and legs, rattling the fixtures that keep those leather belts strapped tight.
You don't own the orgasm that they pull out of you, calmly and efficiently stimulating until the pleasure wells up and spills over, electricity running through your gut, your hips arching. They keep their fingers on you, teasing, tugging, forcing the pleasure into you until it hurts--
Then they straighten up. In their hands, you see a glass vessel, half-filled. Half-filled by you, you realize.
They strip their gloves off. Toss them into a basin. Pull on another pair. Pick up the vessel, and return to you.
You think you can't cum again, and you learn you're wrong. Your body responds at first, eagerly welcoming that skilled touch. And then, when you've cum several times more, you start to ache, skin raw, nerves pleading for rest. You're pleading, too, babbling, your mouth running, but what hope is there for mercy?
The alchemist retreats.
Your breathing still stutters, your heart rushing to slow down. You mumble thanks, gratitude for mercy unexpected.
You're wrong, of course.
The alchemist returns with a pot in their hand. They stick their fingers in and emerge with a thick gel coating them, and reach between your legs once more. Try as you might, you can't get free; you have no defense as they slather it onto you. It's cool, but only mildly relieving. You can't imagine their hands on you again, not without going insane.
The tub disappears. And now they approach the other end of the table -- your head. Flask in hand.
You jerk away, of course. But you can only move so far, your arms and legs belted down. They catch your jaw in one gloved hand, and your nose fills with the smell of your own sex. Then your taste invades your mouth as two of their fingers force your jaw open. Exhausted by these hours of forced pleasure, you can't even try to spit as they pour the contents of the flask down your throat.
It starts as a heat in your stomach, searing, overpowering. And just as suddenly it spreads, and mellows, and saturates, and roars back into being from your head to your feet and every delicious inch between - need, pure agonizing need, and now you open your mouth to plead again, for their hands on you, on your face, your chest, between your legs, anywhere, anywhere!
And they oblige. They touch you, and you scream, because the electric pleasure tearing through you has no other vent; it needs to emerge, and you let it, bucking and thrashing and writhing and cumming and cumming and cumming.
Time abandons you. Some of it has passed when you begin to come down. The orc is no longer between your legs. Their back turned to you, they stand at a workbench, hunched over an alembic. A liquid is dripping into a flask, slowly and evenly. It smells... familiar.
"You used to be kept as slaves," the alchemist says. Their voice is not as you imagined. They reach behind themselves, and you see their ungloved hands undo the strings of their leather apron. "Not for your labor, or for warfare. You are quite evidently unsuited for both. You were kept for pleasure--" They lift the apron off and drop it. Beneath it, their torso is bare. "--and for... stock."
They turn. Sweat slicks their body. Dark hair surges over their chest and coils in their armpits. A trail of it, you cannot stop from noticing, runs down under their trousers.
"You see, you do have some use to us in warfare. Your... extractions. They have a certain... effect." They turn to the table and slide a flask away from the alembic, lift it - with a wink - as if toasting, and drain the contents in one gulp.
"Our warlords used to enjoy their slaves before battle. Hours and hours, fucking - rutting, soaked in sweat and cum. And how they fought, after those nights!"
They set the flask down, delicately. And are you imagining it, or do they loom over you a little more?
"Superstition, you must think. But I disagree. I have isolated it, the essence your bodies produce that reacts so powerfully with ours. And it can be extracted, refined, purified... strengthened."
And now their hands reach for the laces of their trousers - not a moment too soon, as you watch them grow in a heartbeat. Muscles jump under their skin, cast in shadowy silhouette into carved perfection. Their trousers drop, and you see them slick and swollen with arousal. As if it is a threat. As if it is a promise.
"There is a problem. The solution... takes something." They breath, raspy and raw. Their tusks protrude, two curved swords bursting from their jaw. Their eyes gleam in the candlelight. "Thought... struggles. Intellect, subsumed by... need."
They step closer, and you smell their musk, their sweat, their arousal.
Holding down my little fakeboy when the dysphoria is raging and they lie naked in the bed trying not to look at their body. Letting my thick, erect cock stretch out next to their tiny little clit they insist on calling a "t-dick" as I loom over them. Softly petting them as I watch them whimper in shame and frustration at their body. Pushing their legs further apart and back up towards their chest, as my cock shifts down through their slick, swollen folds.
"Please. Not tonight. I can't." They beg. I ignore them as I sink inside of their pussy and hear them let out a pathetic cry. They're wet. Why are they always soaking wet, even when they claim they don't want it.
"Shhh..." I whisper in their ear as I fill their soft feminine cunt. "It doesn't matter how you feel." My hips slowly thrusting into them as they whimper. My eyes locked with them, our faces inches apart as I take them. My bare cock will put another load inside of their fertile body tonight, whether they want to risk it or not. They never stop me in the end.
"Shhh... Just take it like a good girl." I hiss down at them as my pace quickens. Delighting in the broken look they give me as they remember how I really see them. How they see themselves when they look down and see a masculine body spreading them open and sinking into their soft feminine hole. "You're just a good girl. Now don't fight it princess. Take it like one."
just,,,, collaring. a pretty boy on his knees while i sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at me with those big puppydog eyes, gently placing his collar around his neck, ghosting my fingers across the skin where i'm draping it, making him shiver and get goosebumps from my touch, then clicking it in place right on his adam's apple, tucking two fingers underneath to make sure it's nice and snug, not too tight, "good puppy, all mine", him rubbing his head into my hand for pets, making me giggle, telling him i have a surprise, reaching in my pocket and pulling out a dog tag, maybe i got him a silver heart shaped one, letting him hold it to read the engraving, his name and my phone number, showing his appreciation by laying his head on my thigh, petting my good boy, taking the tag back, my puppy exposing his collared neck to me, rolling the ring on the tag in place, that little clink when it's perfectly set on my boy, "so pretty, my sweet pup, come lay on the bed, i need to fuck your brains out for being so good"
