My New Toy Until I Can Find A Real Master/daddy Or Mommy 

Dontcha know, it's true~

Wish I had some nice manly stuff in my messages rn to really make me feel like best girl~♡

(via bathammer2, bathammer2, yuss-property)

I wish I looked like this from behind

It means they haven’t removed my testicles yet

No but it makes my clittie drip

Spooky Season -Werewolf anon

After the trauma of birthing my litter of... pups... alone... two months ago, I spent hours hunting down my one night stand, needing answers. It wasn't as difficult as I expected, turns out he was looking for me, too. We meet behind the bar we met in, at his request. He asked about 'The kids' as soon as he saw me.. He knew?? How? His grin is unsettling, and he nods in approval when informed that he's the father of four healthy werepups, and I get the gut feeling that he must have actually planned to knock me up. I carefully broach the subject of support, and the fact that I have no idea how to raise kids, let alone babies that spend a weekend a month feisty and covered in fur. He agrees to support me and the babies financially as well as he can, but has no interest in the fatherhood part, on one condition: that I sleep with him at least once every six months, no condom, one to two days before the full moon.

Hello, Werewolf Anon! Are you the same anon who wrote about the one-night stand with a guy who's secretly a werewolf, who shockingly gave birth to 4-6 werewolf pups one night during a full moon? If not, that's totally cool, but I'm realizing now that I cannot find that particular post anywhere on the blog and I'm wondering if Tumblr ate it.

Sigh. Goddammit, Tumblr. Let me know if that's the case and I'll get it reposted.

Finding out that you've most likely been purposefully bred is one thing. Finding out that he's eager to keep doing it? That's gotta be something else entirely. He knows that you'll need his support to help raise all of those babies, and he's backed you into a corner-- you'll take his cock raw on a monthly basis, or you'll have to figure out how to make ends meet with four hungry mouths to feed.

But is it really that much of a hardship? You can't help but recall how incredible it felt when he fucked you, pounding you in ways that left you begging and screaming for more throughout that fateful night. One evening of incredible sex a month to leave you and your kids in relative financial comfort seems like a small price to pay. And while getting crammed full of seed once every 30 days might be playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette with your ovaries, you probably won't get pregnant again.

Right?

(A Spooky Season response.)

Who is going to take mine? While down there you can also take the rest. Feminize me & use me

I won’t cry to see them gone & the estrogen you give me will work faster without them

i wanna be cocky n confident on here, talking about how much i can take in my holes n all the things i want done to me

only for someone to come and grab me, throw me in their trunk and keep me as their little toy. explaining to me, as soon as you have me tied up with no where to go, that not only did i ask for all of this. not only did i beg and plead for someone to treat me this way. but that they’re going to do all of the depraved and terrible things i posted about. they’re going to push my limits far beyond what i can take, all because i had to go be a little whore who acted like they could handle more than they’re actually capable of

and if i whine and complain even once? if i try to say i can’t take it? you’ll just make it worse and worse and worse until i realize it’s never going to stop. until i’m so far gone and broken that i’ll start begging on my knees for all the things i know i can’t handle. because i know the alternative is inevitably far, far more unpleasant.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession.”

You are nervous, conflicted, and scatter-brained as you take your seat. The confessional is dark. You shed your coat and lay it across your lap. It’s warm in the church, in stark contrast to the sharp chill of the outside wind. You pull a hand through your hair, taking a deep, nervous breath, and trying to make yourself comfortable.

“May the Lord help you to confess your sins.”

A month or so ago, your church had introduced a new priest as the standing one retired. He is young, brilliant, kind, and absolutely stunning: tall with deep brown hair falling about his jaw and dark brown eyes. His features are sharp — an angular jaw, deep-set eyes, and high cheekbones. His voice is deep and smooth, even alluring. Slowly, you noticed that you had been allowing your mind and eyes to wander during mass. You started to wonder how strong he is. How soft his hands are. What he smells like when he holds you close to him. What his lips would feel like against your skin. How his body looks under his cassock. How big his…

“My child, are you alright?”

His voice snaps you back to reality, and you clear your throat.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you hastily answer. “This is difficult for me.”

“Take your time. I am here to listen and guide you down the right path,” he comforts.

Instead of warm, you begin to feel like you’re overheating. His voice alone arouses you, much to your dismay. You fumble with the top button of your shirt, loosening it and pulling at your collar. You try to ignore the carnal desires of your flesh, but your slacks are beginning to feel a bit tight.

“I have uhm… been having impure thoughts, Father.” Your hands begin to shake, nervous about how this will cause him to view you. He has seen you many times at the soup kitchen, and he knows you participate in a lot of local charity. For reasons you can’t seem to place, you care a lot about what he thinks of you.

“I see…” he hummed. There is a long pause as you fiddle with the rosary in your hand. “Have you acted on these desires that are driving your thoughts?”

“No,” you fib. Even in this confessional, where you are supposed to pour yourself out to the Lord, you cannot find the bravery to admit that you have acted on these desires. But you do it alone, where no one knows the vile things you fantasize about.

“Hm… well. Everyone has lustful thoughts. It is natural, as we are born with a sinful nature. It happens to us all.” His voice is calm and comforting. Your imagination runs wild with more questions yet again.

“Even you, Father?” You say it before you can manage to stop yourself. The tinges of curiosity got the best of you. You tell yourself that it’s for own comfort — to know that you aren’t alone in your thoughts and struggle with them. But under the surface, part of you yearns to know what he thinks about when he’s alone, with no other outside influence. You wonder, does this servant of God have the same sinful thoughts? Does he have to repent for the same sins? And even more so — am I the reason?

“Yes, my child. Even me. I, too, have been born into sin. I am human, just like you.” You wonder what he likes… his preferences. If he likes it rough or if he’s more of the gentle kind. What words he would whisper to you while he touches you. You wonder how he sounds when he cums.

You finally work up the courage to look at him through the screen. His eyes are serious, but not judgmental. He is beautiful in the dim light of the confessional. With your eyes locked together, the sparks inside you catch, and you have decided you are no longer here to be cleansed of your sins. You are here to give yourself over to them.

But this man has taken very serious vows. He has made unbreakable promises — to himself, his colleagues, his superiors, his congregation… and to God. You know there is no way that he would throw all of that away. You recognize that these desires are one-sided killing that flaring spark in your mind, but oh, how you crave him. At this point, you can deny it no longer.

“This is a heavy and serious topic with many complexities. This conversation may take a little while to get through. We may want to meet about this in a more private setting, where I have more time to tend to your concerns. Would that suit you?”

“Yes.” You answer quickly. So much so, in fact, that you blush, embarrassed once again.

“Wonderful. In an hour, I will meet you here again, and we can discuss this in my study. Peace be with you.”

“And also with you.” You take a deep breath to calm yourself. “Thank you, Father.”

As you sit in the chapel waiting for him, your mind races. Your mind is occupied with images and ideas most disgraceful. The way he would feel deep inside you, crying out in ecstasy. How beautiful his bare body would look in the low, orange-yellow glow of the study lamplight. What he may do with you when you are alone, with only God to judge. Your body is filled with can ache that only he can satisfy. You pray for release.

Soon after, you are on your knees in his study, hands clasped together in front of your chest, rosary tangled in them.

“The best thing about our Savior is that he is all-forgiving. No matter what horrible things you may think or say or do, you can always seek him for forgiveness…” You open your eyes and see his cassock falling off his shoulders as he glides it off. Under it, he wears black pants and a black button up shirt.

You feel yourself getting hard all over again. Your heart is absolutely racing. In this moment, with him towering over you, you come to the jarring conclusion that you do not want him despite the fact that he is your priest. You want him because he is your priest.

He places a hand on top of your head. You tilt your head slightly back, welcoming his touch, and feel the cold beads of his rosary resting on your forehead. He closes his eyes to pray, and you do the same. His hands are soft and warm, tender and comforting. His cologne is intoxicating. Your mind begins to stray yet again, but his soft, yet authoritative voice brings you back in.

“Lord, forgive us for what our flesh leads us to do.”

You repeat his words in your head… ‘us?’ Before you have time to question what it may mean, you hear the quiet ringing of a belt buckle and open your eyes to see him unbuttoning his slacks, his belt loose and undone. He looks down at you.

“Is this the kind of cleansing you have come here for?” He coos. You freeze, afraid to answer. But he comforts you again as he pulls his boxers down just enough. “It’s okay. You can tell me. It’s just between me, you…” he spits into his hand, “…and God.”

You nod, hands still folded in front of you. Inside, you are melting. He wraps his fingers around his big, thick cock, slowly and gently stroking as you watch. With the other hand, he gently holds your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. The rosary is still tangled in his fingers. You admire him, in all his filth and sin. This is what you wanted. What you were desperate for. What you thought about and touched yourself to in the shower. What you dreamed about last night. This is it.

“Stay still. Just open your mouth.” His gentle instructions are your permission. He teases your tongue, barely allowing you to taste the tip of his dick. Your mouth waters as you gently suck on it, watching heavenly pleasure wash over his face. If this is sin, why does it feel like such a release? A victory? A relief of so much painful tension? Why does it feel so good? His once gentle fingers grip your hair as he lets out a soft moan, wiping your mind clean of all these worries and stresses. You decide will let him guide you. “That’s it… let me cleanse you, my child… from the inside out.”

REBLOG IF YOU LOVE BIG BLACK COCKS TOO.

54 male 6,3” large build 280lbs. Want to be someone’s Amazon Queen.

Take me away from my male life and feminize me. I’m willing to go all the way if that’s what you would like.

Use me to provide you pleasure.

Take pleasure from feminizing me.

Start me on the journey to becoming your Amazon Queen.

I do love the outdoors & outdoor sports like atving, snowmobiling & fishing. Think of the fun we could have on a trip with me there to suck you off or bend me over & thrust into me.