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@worstestcasescenario
Backup blog in case I get nuked again. Evil T4T horny blog, content warning for fauxcest, ageplay, occasional gore, piss, cnc. Most posts are just reblogged from my primary account. Also additive of doll posts, which are not on my main
Shout out to that video he sent six months ago of him pissing — truly the savior of the past few times I’ve finally felt like jerking off🙏🙏🙏🙏
What if we were making out and things got really heated and you, wanting to be playful, convinced me to makeout with you in your front yard because the risk of the neighbors seeing would add to the excitement, even if it was dark out. And I just blindly agree, and you get to the front door, shove me outside, and lock it while I’m still half-naked thinking you’re gonna join me. And I’m stuck alone and freezing outside, bare feet feeling like they’re covered in bruises from the cold front steps, banging on the windows and crying begging to be let in. And you only let me in after I’ve run out of tears and I’m too cold to do anything but curl up into a ball against the door and hiccup, fingers stiff and lips tinted purple. I just end up letting you do whatever you want to me as long as it means I’m inside against your warm body.
It’s Kiss Her Soft Penis Sunday!! Everybody say thank you Kiss Her Soft Penis Sunday
He’s talking in his sleep right now about how something is a hundred percent, and I wish I could cut off his little unconscious, barely-coherent mumbling by kissing him reeeeeaalllyyyy deeply and sticking my tongue in his mouth
Was seeing posts on insta earlier today abt people coming home from a long day and getting to put their collar on and finally breathe and just have the weight of the lock on their chest and that sounds just so incredibly good
Perhaps what is so exhilarating about the “you’re so mature for your age” of it all is the personhood that you finally get ascribed with. Like you aren’t a human being until you’re an adult, to be a child is nothing, so you just keep chasing that personhood. Peel back my girlish exterior and see me as someone just like yourself, even if that means treating me in such a way that’s beyond my ability to understand. I’ll get there. I’ll learn. I’m mature for my age.
Your aunt who’s been out of a relationship for so long — who you’ve had a crush on since you were a kid — feeling like a blushing and shy girl again when you teach each other how to kiss for the first time
Wish I could do a scene with him that was more like guided meditation than anything else where he’s insanely high out of his mind and I pretend I’m putting him under anesthesia and that’s how I put my baby to bed on nights when he can’t sleep..
Him holding me and my head buried into his neck and I get to make quiet little breathy sounds while he touches me
Consider: Queen’s wet nurse/captain of the royal guard
Ever since I was a young child, I always knew I was meant to be murdered through a series of accidental behaviors from someone who finds me obscenely obnoxious, and when they shove me a little too hard and my head cracks on the corner of the coffee table, they freak out and frantically apologize and have to quickly bury me before anyone else finds out. And emotionally I feel like I woke up when I wasn’t supposed to in the middle of the burial process, and now they gotta make up an excuse to cover their ass and awkwardly pull me out of the hole they dug in the middle of nowhere. And I’ve sorta just been living in that limbo state since
You must kill the small child inside you in order to move on from any of the benign shit your dad does. You must kill that small child dead and never let it out or speak or cry or do anything ever again. Take my hand. We’re gonna kill that fucking kid
Butch knight and middle-aged queen…. Save me butch knight and middle-aged queen……. Please… please save me………
Oggghhhghhg knight heavy breathing under the helmet as the royal kisses the cold metal on the outside since they aren’t allowed to touch each other
Insert the daily rape intrusive thought every time I get into my car and lock the doors
Today’s was about being held at gunpoint in the freezing elevators to my parking garage and being told to strip
Late bloomer to the dating scene who doesn’t get why everyone’s suddenly obsessed with dating and kissing. Getting into high school feeling like there’s something fundamentally wrong with you because you still don’t get how sex and kissing and dating is just a thing everyone does now. One day digging through childhood toys looking for something to practice making out with, awkwardly laying it down on your bed, peeling off the Velcro-backed clothes and suddenly feeling embarrassed as your hands come up to cup its face. Going in for a kiss, not knowing when to stop, and as a result getting way too into it. Your tongue is nervously pushing at its inanimate face like it can kiss back, you’re groping its small body with hands that splay out on its torso. There’s a weird feeling in your body that’s more like a heatwave at the back of your skull, and you don’t know where to touch yourself to make it feel better. Instead you just dig your fingers into the toy even more, as if you’re trying to bore a hole into it, and there’s a part of you that feels like that helped
