Currently Fantasizing About Someone Sitting Me Down In Front Of A Metronome Holding Me Close As I Watch

suspension bondage but it’s a mech trussed up and hanging in a repair bay, limbs disconnected from hardpoints, reactor exposed.

Didn't expect to be called out this hard tongiht

A story I just keep coming back to is

Submissive who is broken and traumatised, who can barely hold their life together, and who, in a desperate act of self destruction, throws their entire self into worshiping the first domme who shows them any attention

X

Domme who sees this devotion for the gift that it is, accepts that she is worthy of this gift, and uses the enormous power she has over this submissive to make sure they're happy and healthy and looked after

Which could mean nothing

force vulpinization we're turning you into a foxgirl you cannot resist

Some monster womeennnnn

so sick and tired of acting like i don’t want to be used. use me, please

shove your fingers down my throat, or maybe even your strap and just make me choke and gag until my jaw hurts and there’s spit all over my face and the floor

fuck me with the smallest or biggest toy you can find, tease me, overwhelm me, make me cum, deny me

make me suck you off and pull my hair so i suck harder

leash and collar me and yank on it when i don’t fuck you fast enough

just please, please, please use me however you want i’ll be a good dog i promise

Being shibari'd in my own wires. Gently tug at my cables and pull them out, watch as I twitch and squirm when you do. The strain on my cables causing my breathing to hitch, fans stuttering to keep up.

Wrap the cables around my limbs. Send me into a feedback loop, every time I twitch I tug on my wires. Every time my wires strain I twitch and moan. Make my circuitry overheat with pleasure, overstimulate me with my own body.

"my son turned out fine"

ma'am, your son has been dead for years. i'm the demon that pilots his corpse, and he's fucking gone. you might have broken him, raised him wrong and made him confused and fragile and hollow, but i cored him. i slithered for years through the dry ventricles in his empty heart, i fantasized with his tired brain, i coiled around his soul and seduced him and owned him. the second he got away from you and could finally stop struggling, he practically gave himself to me. being dead on his feet already, it was deliciously easy for him to accept the death i promised him. i ripped apart everything that made your son himself, keeping what suits me and forgetting what doesn't, and i wear what he left behind like a favourite outfit. his body's not even recognisable, either- not only has it been used, claimed, and marked by lovers you'd call dangerous, but it's been estrogenised, changed so thoroughly that the tattered scraps of his soul don't recognise it as his anymore. because it's not, because it never really was. because it's mine.

Werewolf: Careful, sweetheart. You play with claws, you’re gonna to get marked. And trust me, I mark deep.

Me:

no one's doing somnophillia anymore

because of woke

forcing a cute girl on her knees and lifting her chin up roughly with one hand so her eyes meet mine and scratching behind her ear with my other hand while saying in a happy yet condescending voice, "whos a useless little faggot? is it you? hm? why dont you bark for me mutt?" until she understands that she is so far below me that she might as well worship me like a goddess