fulfillpurpose

[fulfillpurpose]

Sometimes I wonder what the world would look like if pregnancy didn't necessarily result in making a person at the end. Say, for example, that there was some special supplement you needed in order to actually grow a baby - but without it, the placenta would still grow just as big as a baby would have.

There are so many girls who barely manage to stop themselves from getting fucked full - each one having to tell herself over and over that she has to be responsible, that she isn't ready to have a baby, that she doesn't have the money, or doesn't have the right partner, or needs to finish school, or or or... And all those excuses would go away. Girls, tell me: do you think you'd still be able to tell a man to pull out if the consequences were only pregnancy and birth?

And as for the men - well. A good man won't knock up just anyone because he cares about the life his children will have, and even a cad will worry about child support. If both of those were gone, what man would even think to do anything other than plant his seed?

Maybe most of all, though, it would change marriages. A man can only feed so many children, but without that constraint, who wouldn't keep his wife swelling over and over again? It would be a symbol of virility, and a sign that you'd kept her happy enough - or compliant enough - to give birth for you every year.

That isn't the world we live in - but it's not so very different, is it? If it weren't for the final consequence, the yearly cycle of a girl conceiving and birthing would be considered as commonplace as the monthly cycle of ovulating and menstruating.

Just another perfectly natural part of having a womb.

[fulfillpurpose]

I'm married to a man who doesn't want children and who I would not want to have children with. We have a nonexistent sex life-- on the rare occaison we do anything it's never satisfying. I can't stop thinking about leaving him and looking for a more 'tradwife'ish lifestyle and a man who will just want to get me pregnant over and over again. He's in the other room and I'm getting off to the thought of another man claiming my body and impregnating me like I deserve

It's always tragic to see a girl in a "respectable" marriage when she was meant for a shotgun wedding.

Besides, can you even really call this a marriage? They're meant for bearing children, you know. Oh, sure, they've been adapted for other purposes too - but a marriage that keeps your womb empty instead of full, and leaves you wanting babies but not wanting his, hardly seems like one at all.

The need won't go away. Once you've realized that you're made to be bred - that you're meant to conceive and grow and give birth and give milk, over and over again, while your body is fertile and ready for it - you can't forget it again. Sometimes they call it "baby fever", but really it's like recovering from a fever: finally being able to see the world clearly, after spending your days in a confused, restless haze.

Your fever has broken, now. When are you going to rise from your sickbed?

[fulfillpurpose]

do you have any kink writers similar to you that you would recommend? obsessed with your work! xoxo

"Similar to me" is kind of a tough question, since there's a lot of aspects you could be talking about! Short-form stories? Lots of asks and responses? Sickly-sweet "benevolent" misogyny? Psychological cruelty? Just a lot of rape and breeding?

Still, here's a stab at it:

On b/d/s/m/l/r - slashes added apotropaically because I got my original kink blog nuked for linking directly to it and have been paranoid about it since - there are a few especially worth mentioning:

Me (he said humbly), as fulfilledpurpose

milkspill-captions (amazing)

indulge_me

lustwins

depravedfantasies (mostly cheating)

subsor (permanently inactive)

chloewritesmore (permanently inactive, mostly ageplay)

You need an invite to sign up currently but if you DM me with the email you'd like to use, I can send you one (eventually).

On here:

@properplace writes extremely well about her dynamic with her husband; recently they've been doing an incest RP thing, but there's a lot of more general D/s and misogyny if you go back further, along with the chronicle of her pregnancy and how it took her deeper and deeper into breeding kink. They also have a very sweet and supportive relationship, in addition to / intertwined with their dynamic, which always warms my kinky little heart.

@toomuchbirth, as the name would imply, is heavy on birth kink, but their writing about rape and forced pregnancy is amazing(ly dark). They've had many incarnations, since they keep getting deleted; their old work is floating around as "muchbirth".

@hyenagirlpenis (...can I not tag blogs with "penis" in the name?) is full of delightfully fucked-up ideas.

@lezhuntrr is a trans woman dom who mostly does lesbian orientation play, but thematically and stylistically has a lot of similarities to my writing, and is deliciously cruel.

And speaking of orientation play - if anyone following me hasn't noticed already, I also have an orientation play sideblog I keep cordoned off from this one, @reorientation.

I'm leaving off many kink writers I really like but that aren't as similar to me, or we'd be here forever - and I'm almost certainly forgetting some anyway - but that should be plenty to sink your teeth into!

[fulfillpurpose]

My husband has been playing my body like an instrument. He has a cycle app and always seems to know when I’m most horny before I even do. He’s been breaking down my resistance for so long I hadn’t even realised until last month I was desperately begging him to put a baby inside me, something I’ve been adamant I don’t want. He won’t touch me when I really reallyyyyyy need him too unless I tell him what I really need

Hats off to your man - getting you to beg for something you (used to) insist you don't want is one thing, but having you not even realize what he's doing to you until you hear the desperate sounds coming out of your mouth is another!

But then again... from the sound of you, it might not even have been hard. It would be elevating to say that your body is an instrument, and knowing your cycle helps him play you; the blunter way to put it is that you're an animal that goes into heat, and knowing when helps him breed you.

It's funny, too: you've lived with your cycle for many years, and an app lets him know you better than you know yourself? Maybe it's that you're not quite willing to accept what your cycle does to you, because you want to think of yourself as a rational person who makes decisions, not a mammal that makes babies.

Maybe he just understands that, and is beginning to show you.

[fulfillpurpose]

The tragic thing about this blog is that I started doing kink writing largely because so much of it has excruciatingly low standards ("buy her lingerie and fuck her in it", anyone?) and so it didn't set off my perfectionism too much - but writing decent smut eventually makes me feel like I have a reputation to uphold, not to mention that it puts me in the orbit of a bunch of genuinely good kink writers who have styles that I admire, so the whole problem comes back again!

This requires radical treatment: first I Eternal Sunshine my memories of writing any posts on this blog, and then I recalibrate by Clockwork Orange-ing myself through Fifty Shades of Grey --

[fulfillpurpose]

I was married to another person with a vulva for years, and then mostly only fucking a person with a penis *who'd had a vasectomy*. I didn't need birth control. But now that I'm separated, and so feral for cock, it's starting to sink in that condoms probably aren't going to cut it for birth control.

I hated hormonal birth control when I was on it, IUD insertion was dreadful... the excuses pile up. I don't want to be pregnant, but the breeding kink and hunger for dick are making my brain so, so fuzzy. I might need to get my tubes tied so I can fuck in (somewhat) peace.

It's amazing how easy it is to not be careful, isn't it? Condoms are easy and painless, but getting one on is an interruption, and it doesn't feel as good. Hormones mess with your body. Copper IUDs hurt going in and make periods worse. If you really want to get rid of the chance of pregnancy, you need surgery.

Getting pregnant doesn't take any of that.

Oh, sure, pregnancy and birth have plenty of their own complications, to say the least. But those come later. You don't have to make a doctor's appointment to get pregnant. You don't have to endure any pain, or even any inconvenience. You just have to let your body have what it's craving.

So yes, you could get a tubal ligation and never think about it again. But will you? Will you really go through all that trouble, just to fend off the chance of a distant consequence?

Or will you just take cum against your cervix, and let your mind go blank with pleasure?

[fulfillpurpose]

Hi it’s the feral when I ovulate anon back again 👋 that last line of your post really got to me “Don't you know that going feral is how girls end up domesticated?” Like 🥴

We were using condoms before, but we decided that it feels so much better without them these past couple of months, and he’s been making sure to pull out. I don’t know if I’m secretly hoping that it gets too much for him and he won’t one day, but either way I don’t think I’ve been thinking right, my hormones have really been riding me bad

But I thought you might appreciate the update

(Previously)

The update I'm really looking for from you, Anon, involves two pink lines. But the way you're going, I won't be waiting long.

Because you know what feels even better than fucking bare while you're ovulating and then pulling out? Him knocking you up. Him pushing his bare cock as far into you as it'll go and forcing his cum through your cervix.

You already both decided, while as cooly rational as either of you are going to get, that it was fiiiiiiine for him to skip the condoms (while you're ovulating, and he's thinking about making your belly swell, and you're praying that he will) as long as he always pulls out.

It's amazing that he's ever actually pulled out at all. But even in the burning haze of ovulation, you can't really believe that it'll last, can you?

With plenty of time to consider the decision - and plenty of time to take it back - you both decided to fuck bare. And now all it'll take is one instant of him deciding that he wants you full of his cum more than he wants to play it safe.

The instant he decides to really enjoy you, you're a mommy-to-be.

[fulfillpurpose]

By now, everyone who isn't living under a rock has seen the discourse around the cover of Sabrina Carpenter's new album. Concerned Feminists have tutted about it, maledom Tumblrs have gleefully blogged about it. Because I'm plagued by the evil inclination, it's time for me to give my own take:

Are you kidding me? This is BDSM as envisioned by someone who heard a rumor about it once and hasn't bothered to investigate since. I'm discovering a whole new way to be scandalized about this album cover: that it's fucking lame. No one grabs a tenth of a girl's hair at a distance of six inches from her head if they're doing anything interesting with it. And oh my, she's on her knees - barely within arm's reach of his crotch, looking away from him, waving her hand vaguely. I've seen more intimacy from people entirely encased in vinyl.

This is what's supposed to be corrupting the youth of America? No wonder nobody's getting laid anymore, if this is the best the culture can muster. Do we need to dig up Elvis for a remedial course in pop star sexuality?

[fulfillpurpose]

I’ve been finding recently when I ovulate I’ve been going a little feral 😅 the need to be filled up is super super strong, I’ve been coping by fucking a fwb whenever that time comes around and I know for a fact that breeding is a huge kink of his. I’m a little worried I’m going to beg him to breed me one of these months and he’ll happily do so

Some people??? get fucked while ovulating??? to cope???

Snowclones aside, this is very funny. That's how you "cope" with your body needing to have a baby? Maybe tonight I'll "cope with" hunger by having a nice steak. With some plastic wrap over it, if I'm trying to exercise self-restraint.

Come on. How do you expect this to go? You're taking cock specifically when you're most fertile, from a man who you know wants to knock you up. You don't even mention any precautions you're taking - is it a millimeter of latex stopping you from getting pregnant, or just his willingness to pull out and the hope that he doesn't leak too much pre-cum inside of you?

Either of those will be gone soon, if they aren't already. You're going to beg him to fuck you bare, or he's just going to push further inside of you once he's on the edge. There's only one way this goes, and it's the way it's gone since time immemorial.

Don't you know that going feral is how girls end up domesticated?

[fulfillpurpose]

Paid and Played

The sound of her sobs of pleasure are etched into my very soul. When I close my eyes, I can see her bound body, writhing, shaking, breaking under unfathomable pleasure. She’s been burned into my soul and now I own her.

My pretty girl was a bit of an impulse buy. A very, very expensive purchase seeing as I wasn’t expecting to jump into a bidding war but something inside of me just needed to have her when she came onto screen during the auction. And I’ve never been someone who tolerated being denied what I need.

It was easy enough to arrange her transportation to me. I would’ve gone to pick her up myself but that would’ve wasted precious time and I couldn’t stand to wait any longer to play with my new toy. She’ll learn to be so grateful to be owned by someone like me, someone with the means to buy her the very best things.

And I’ve already begun to spoil my girl. After finalizing my purchase, my next course of action was to buy the very best accessories for her. The most beautiful collar, welded onto her neck by an expert I paid to ask no questions, the purest titanium piercings for her precious little clit and nipples, all of which is going to let me completely remold her brain into my perfect girl. Everything was seamlessly done with no delays. It’s amazing what money can get when you know how to use it.

And now, she’s finally here, still drugged unconscious from her procedures and her travel but in my grasp. She’s even more beautiful in person, her face relaxed in sleep and body soft and warm, accented by the special bits of jewelry that make her explicitly mine. She’s finally where she belongs, splayed across my bed, looking like a goddess. I have every intention to keeping every single inch of her to myself.

I can barely contain my excitement as I wait for my girl to wake up. I settle onto the bed next to her, running gentle fingers across her skin and watching the goosebumps erupt on her flesh in response to my touch. I can’t stop myself from letting my fingers dance across her pretty tits, flicking across her nipples softly. The tightening of her nipples makes my mouth water and I can’t hold back from letting my fingers pinch and pull gently. The sleek metal bar running through each nipple is beautiful against her skin and I can’t wait for her to be awake and responsive to all her new adornments. Only the best for my pet.

My eyes take in her prone form and I see the matching metal piercing on her pretty little clit. An idea pops into my head and I can’t stop myself from moving to situate myself in between her thighs, my gaze fixed on her pussy. I grip her legs and fold them back against her chest, the position showing off her cunt to my hungry gaze.

“Fuck, look at you, pretty girl. All mine for the taking,” I groan before I lean down and run my tongue gently against her soft pussy. I press a kiss against her new piercing and draw the cold metal into my mouth along with her cute clit. Her breathing hitches as the sensation permeates her drugged mind. I let my tongue trace the metal, the taste of her growing arousal making my mouth water. Fuck, she tastes so fucking good. I lose myself in her cunt, my hands keeping her legs spread and splayed open for me.

I hear her shaky breathing quicken and her legs start to tremble in my hands. She’s close and I intensify my actions, determined to wake my girl up with an onslaught of pleasure so she knows exactly how I’ll be treating her. I hear a soft whine come from her and glance up to see her brow scrunch as she blinks her eyes open in shock.

My grip on her tightens and I watch as fear and panic overtakes her features before I press my lips against her clit and suck hard. Her mouth opens in a cry as pleasure overtakes her senses and her cunt squirts her release onto my tongue, back arching against the bed.

She’s panting softly and letting out little whimpers when I finally let her clit go, the metal of her piercing glistening with wetness and her pussy leaking onto the sheets. I sit up but keep a strong grip on her in case she gets any ideas about bolting.

She’s trembling slightly under my hands and my eyes meet hers. She’s so beautiful like this, splayed out underneath me, pleasure raw in her eyes. I smile, “Hi pretty girl. Welcome home.”

Her eyes widen and I hear her voice for the first time. “Please, please let me go,” she begs, her eyes gazing into mine imploringly. Her voice sends shivers down my spine and I want to close my eyes to bask in it.

I smirk and lean down, caging her into the bed with my arms. “Can’t do that, you’re too expensive of a toy to throw away,” my voice sounds raw and rough, filled with dark promises and desire.

She flinches at my words, her eyes going hazy for a moment, remembering the events of the auction. She shakes herself out of it and meets my eyes again. “What are you going to do to me?” Her voice trembles a little and I can see the fear in her eyes. It makes me immediately want to soothe it.

One of my hands comes up to cup her cheek and I frown when she shies away from my touch. “Don’t be scared, pretty girl. You’re mine now and I’m going to treat you so well, you’ll see,” I promise, stroking her cheek gently.

She whimpers, “Please, I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here.” I coo softly at her, “It’s okay, pretty girl, you’ll learn that this is exactly where you belong, right here by my side. Forever.”

I lean down and press my lips to hers, capturing her mouth in a loving kiss. She fights me at first but settles when my hand wraps around her throat in warning. I dominate her mouth, feeling her pulse jump under my grip.

I groan against her lips, she’s so fucking perfect underneath me like this. I pull away and smirk down at her, taking in her hazy eyes and swollen lips. She looks so good like this. I can’t resist one more quick kiss before I lean back.

“Come on,” I say, standing up from the bed and lightly pulling her towards me. I slide my hands underneath her body and pick her up easily, cradling her in my arms. She’s being so good for me, I’m so proud of her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty girl,” I say, walking us into my bedroom’s connected bathroom. She looks so scared under the bright lights of the bathroom, her eyes darting around the space. I set her down on her feet in front of the large mirror and keep one arm wrapped around her midsection, pressing her back to my front.

I take a moment to savor the feeling of her small body against mine and it makes me a little feral to see our size difference. I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Look at us, pretty girl. This is where you belong, with me. And look,” I smile, letting my hands trail to her piercings, “I bought you presents.”

Her eyes take stock of the new jewelry on her body and they widen in shock. “What, what did you do to me?” Her voice is strangled with despair. Her hands come up pull at the collar on her neck before going to touch her nipple piercings and she whimpers, her eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” I coo, “Don’t these look so good? Pretty things for my pretty girl.” I tap her collar lightly and run my hands between her legs and flick the piercing on her clit that she hasn’t yet fully realized yet. The movement makes her let out a choked moan that ends in a sob when the full realization sinks into her head.

Tears are falling from her eyes as she whimpers, “No, no, no, I never wanted this.” Her sobs feel like stabs into my heart, I can’t stand the fact that my girl is sad.

My arms band around her tightly and I press her against my body comfortingly. “It’s okay, love, you’ll like them, I promise. I know what’s best for you, don’t cry,” I murmur softly. Her tears don’t seem to slow and it makes me frown.

I turn her around and let her sob into my chest, soothing her with soft touches and gentle words until she eventually seems to cry herself out of tears.

“You’ll understand eventually,” I murmur, hugging her tight. She quiets down to small whimpers and I press soft kisses to the top of her head.

“Come on pretty girl, let’s get you cleaned up,” I lead her into the shower gently and turn on the hot water, letting steam fill the space around us. She’s listless and limp, her eyes gazing unseeingly around us.

I take my time washing her, my hands gentle as I lather her soft hair with expensive shampoo and then conditioner before moving on to soap her body. She so good for me, letting me move her around the shower to wash off any trace of her tears. I wash myself quickly while she stands underneath the spray of hot water, her gorgeous body slick and warm. I almost want to bend her over and fuck her right here and right now but I stop myself. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

When we’re both clean, I shut off the water and step out of the shower to grab a big fluffy towel. I lead her gently out, wrapping her in the towel and softly patting her skin dry. She’s so good, she doesn’t fight me at all.

I make sure she’s all wrapped up before turning to grab a towel for myself, drying myself quickly and efficiently. I grab her hand and lead her back into the bedroom, pulling her towards the bed. Seeing our bed seems to startle panic back into her and I see her eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“No, please, please, let me go,” her voice is desperate as she pleads with me, trying to plant her feet to keep me from leading her to the bed. I raise an eyebrow at her, “Darling, don’t be scared, you know I’d never hurt you,” I say soothingly.

My words don’t seem to calm her and she shakes her head harder. “Please, please, let me go,” her voice breaking. I loosen my grip on her hand, intending to scoop her up in my arms when she shoves me, hard.

Her shove surprises me enough for let her slip out of my arms and she takes advantage of my lapse to bolt out the door. I let out an incredulous laugh and shake my head, I guess my girl’s a little feisty. I don’t bother chasing her down, knowing that every single exit to the house is locked and she has no where to run. Plus, I have an extra insurance policy.

Suddenly, I hear a scream and the sound of a body hitting the floor. I smirk, turning to grab my phone from the nightstand before I follow the noise. I find her down the hall, crumpled on the floor, body shaking and trembling. I let out a disappointed sound as I walk towards her, “Pretty girl, you didn’t even make it downstairs. Did something stop you?” I taunt, smirking at her shuddering body.

I walk up to her and squat next to her collapsed body, “Did that hurt?” I purr, my hand coming to wrap around her arm tightly. She whimpers, her breath still unsteady.

“I guess you found out the hard way that your new jewelry has a purpose beyond just looking pretty,” I smirk. “Your pretty piercings and that collar, they’re all programmed to deliver varying degrees of electricity to your sensitive little body. I can make you scream in pleasure or pain whenever I want, with the touch of a button.” I wave my phone mockingly at her before pressing a button on my screen that sends a mild shock through her. It makes her let out a little wail even though it’s nowhere as painful as the shock that took her down initially.

“The extra bit of programming that took you down was something I built in myself. It delivers a debilitating shock to your neck, nipples, and that precious little clit if you get more than 100 feet away from me.” I smile at her, taking in her wild eyes and trembling frame, “But I guess you learned that the hard way.”

I pet her hair softly, “Did that hurt, pretty girl?” She doesn’t respond to me, still shuddering and crying. I scoop her limp body up in my arms and walk us back to the bedroom. This time, I set her onto the bed and settle in with her.

I pull her body against mine and press a soft kiss to her head. “You poor, poor sweet thing,” I murmur, voice dripping with faux sympathy. “You still don’t understand? I own you now. Now and forever…”

She shudders, quiet sobs making her entire body shake. “Why are you so sad, pretty girl? I’ll be so good to you, buy you anything you want, make you feel so good.” I stroke her back softly. “I know you liked what they did at the auction, I can make you feel like that all the time.”

I can’t stop the wicked grin that takes over my face when I fiddle with my phone again, changing a couple settings on the controls. The effect on her is instantaneous, a desperate little cry as her eyes shoot to meet mine.

I laugh and wrap my arms more securely around her body, “Feels good huh? See? If you’re a good girl, you can feel like this all the time, all those sensations directly on your sensitive little clit and nipples.”

“No, please stop, please!” Her voice is shaking as she pushes at me weakly. I run my hands up and down her body, raking my nails across her soft, smooth skin gently. I’ve set the programming to a variety of different pulses, each maintained at an intensity that forces the pleasure to the forefront of her very being.

I can only imagine how overwhelming it all feels, the earlier shock she got from running probably pushed her sensitivity levels to the max, every single sensation now dancing across her already frayed nerves.

I can tell exactly when every shock is delivered to her body by the way she shudders. I tangle my hand in her soft hair and pull harshly, forcing her eyes to meet my own. She has tears streaming down her face as she lets out desperate little sobs.

“Please, please, please stop!” Her voice desperate. I shake my head, “Oh no, pretty girl. I know you like this, I know your pretty pussy is dripping wet for me right now.”

I slide my hand down to her core and groan low in my throat when I feel how fucking hot and drenched her cunt is. Two fingers slide in effortlessly and I can feel the pulsing of her cunt in time with the electricity. I curl upwards to press against her g-spot and I feel her shatter in my arms.

The sob that rips out of her throat is devastatingly delicious. I watch her eyes roll and her entire world narrows to the pleasure shooting through her body. I take that moment to increase the voltage, driving her higher in her orgasm and forcing her into a world of painful pleasure.

There’s no way for her to fight the sensations. The electricity is delivered directly to her clit and nipples, and no amount of struggling, writhing, or touching can make it stop. I don’t need a single restraint on her body to make her submit and there is nothing she can do to fight back. Her body, while physically unbound, is entirely shackled to my will and she has nothing to use against me other than the pleas that spill from her lips like a mantra.

She’s noticed that even after her forced orgasm, the stimulation isn’t stopping. She’s gripping my arm so tightly as her body shudders again and again, so overstimulated that she can barely string together words to beg me. She’s so beautiful like this, uninhibited, desperate, sobbing by my own design.

I lean down and lay gentle kisses along her neck, letting my tongue taste her skin. I groan softly and pull her tighter against my chest, her body shuddering against mine.

“That’s it, pretty girl, just take it for me. You’re doing so well, just like that, feeling so good for me. Keep cumming for me, sweet thing, this is for your own good. Pretty girls like you need to learn that they have to listen to their owners.”

I talk her through her every orgasm, bumping up the stimulation every once in a while to keep her mind locked in a haze of pleasured pain. She’s stopped struggling against me after her fourth orgasm, her body going limp as the sensations overwhelmed her. After her sixth, she went nonverbal, begging replaced by quiet whines and whimpers. At her tenth, she passes out and I finally turn the stimulation off.

I’m gentle as I move her body around on the bed so she’s laying comfortably. Tear tracks are evident on her pretty face and her pussy and inner thighs are a dripping mess. I slip off the bed and come back with a warm towel to clean her up before pulling her into my arms.

I press a soft kiss to her forehead before tucking her close and closing my eyes. Maybe when she wakes up, she’ll have a better attitude about her reality.

Note: AHHH PAY TO PLAY PART TWO IS OFFICIALLY HERE! This installment is from the buyer’s perspective teehee I hope y'all like this as a continuation, I had such a hard time deciding where I wanted to take this story so I hope it delivers!

[fulfillpurpose]

Did you think, when I took you home, that I was going to fuck you?

I know why you thought so, of course. You would've had to have been much further gone to miss the predatory gleam in my eye when I smiled at you. And even if you weren't used to going home with men like me - or going home with men at all - you couldn't have been too naive to think you knew what I wanted from you.

But you were wrong.

It's not all different. You're still splayed out underneath me, bare and vulnerable - but I'm still clothed, with a hungry smile, and a heavy syringe in my hand.

I'm not going to fuck you. I'm just going to hold you down and fill you with my cum until you overflow with it. I'm going to let you exhaust yourself struggling against me, while every drop sinks deeper into you.

I want you to know - when your belly swells - that it wasn't just a whim, and it wasn't just a side effect of my pleasure. That before I even knew your name, I knew I would use your womb.

[fulfillpurpose]

I want to preface this by saying I don’t actually want to be pregnant (I think)

But I can’t stop thinking about my fiancé tampering with my birth control 🥺 imagining him getting off to the thought he might breed me every time we fuck and I have absolutely no idea at all.

How absolutely earth shatteringly hot it would be for him to comfort me and act surprised when I find out I’m pregnant when he knew all along it would happen, that it’s all down to him

It’s not that I don’t want to be someday, just not quite yet 🥺 but the thought of him taking that choice away from me and not even realising makes me want to start leaving him hints 🥺

Oh, I really like this: you're not just fantasizing about having your fiancé use your womb without ever giving you a choice, you're fantasizing about being denied even the knowledge that you've been used. You just described a scenario where he gets off to deliberately fucking you pregnant, and you don't even find out that he did!

You aren't getting wet thinking about an experience - you're getting wet thinking about a truth. You want to be your fiancé's choiceless little babymaker, and that matters more than even getting to feel that you are.

It's sweet, you know? That even in your secret desperate daydreams, you're thinking of him getting to live out a fantasy though you. You're imagining a story where he's the protagonist, and you're just a way for him to carry out his desires.

That's what you want for yourself, isn't it? To be filled up by his will, until you have to swell just to hold it. To be a vessel, not a character.

[fulfillpurpose]

Same anon from before here, if you couldn't tell 💋

The way you never fail to remind us it's not just /you/ that feels this way never fails to make my pussy pulse. Whenever a dying, weak part of my brain tries to desperately protest, "no, that's not true!" I think to myself... do I ever tell a man when I'm ovulating? Do I ever announce to any of my male "friends" that my cycle's making my cunt drool, that my body's desperate to get pregnant?

I'm not a reserved girl at all. I'm not shy about talking about my period. Deep down, I know there's a difference. Maybe I'm scared about what announcing it will do to them. What it'll make them do to me.

You're right to call me light and small and easy to pin down. Maybe that's part of why my conscious brain has to fight so hard to accept what my body already knows. That being in the wrong place at the wrong time is all it would take. A man I know snapping at the prissy cheerleader denying him for so long. Changing "alone" without doing a sweepthrough of the locker room. Playing Icarus with men online, thinking the digital barrier's enough to stop one of them from being true to their word.

Frantically fingering myself to all these thoughts until I get wet enough to pretend there's cum dripping out of me.

"Bringing me back to earth" is a hell of a way to describe it. One day, I'm gonna have to learn my lesson.

xoxo 💄

(Previously)

As much as I'd like to personally rape babies into all the girls who contact me hoping/begging/fearing for it, I'm only one man; I can't be a credible threat for all of them. But the men around you - the dozens you interact with in any given week, the hundreds you encounter, the thousands you perform for... they're a threat.

Most of them probably wouldn't rape you, even if they had the chance. Even of those who would, some of them wouldn't want to make you grow their rape baby.

But it only takes one man. Once.

It's funny that you wouldn't ever tell a man that you're ovulating, but don't hesitate to talk about your period. You don't have to be a criminal mastermind to predict one from the other, you know?

At most, you're filtering out the men who would do it impulsively - a "friend" who would find out that you're ovulating and rape you pregnant before the end of the night. But for anyone who has the intent and dedication to plan it... Well. It wouldn't be hard to find the right place to rape you at just the right time.

Just a little planning, to take away everything you worked so hard for. Just one man's seed, to keep you planted on the earth.

[fulfillpurpose]

As a flier on my uni's cheer team, I can't say the attention doesn't get to me. I get so weird about it when I catch a guy looking at me instead of the game. I've literally made my number #1 hobby flaunting my taut tummy and perky tits in front of a crowd. Can't help but think about what I'll become, what will be left of me, if all the "perkiness" leaves me when I become swelled with milk and babies <33

But part of being a flier means you're weightless and easy to throw around. The lack of meat on my bones means I have petite hips instead of "child-bearing" ones. It's my biggest insecurity, but it's tough to explain to other girls how badly you wanna look breedable 😔 Maybe the solution to my insecurity would be grabbing them and showing me how easy it'd be to knock me up after all... xoxo 💄

Do you understand, I wonder, how much the men looking at you want to bring you down to earth?

You've made a hobby of advertising yourself through your athleticism: all grace and balance and precision, with your flat belly bare. You're constantly showing off how hard you work to take care of your body - and how light and small you are compared to the average man, who could pin you down without any work at all.

Not every man is like me, but many are. And I could never watch you perform like that without thinking about forcing you to the ground and pushing those strong legs open. Without thinking about you starting to wobble during practice as your belly just began to curve, and you struggling to even stand from the full weight of my baby on your slender frame.

Your hips are narrow? That's part of what I want to change in you. They're not built for child-bearing today, but it isn't just breasts and belly that pregnancy reshapes in a girl; your hips realign themselves, widening and opening, to prepare you to give birth. Sometimes it's permanent.

Watching your hips as you flew, I wouldn't be thinking that you weren't ready to carry for me; I'd be thinking how completely I could alter you. How easily I could turn what you are - light and strong and free - into what I want you to be - heavy and helpless and taken in hand.

[fulfillpurpose]

You know, girls are strong too. Maybe stronger than men, even.

It's just a different kind of strength: a strength of endurance.

The strength to be wracked with cramps every month, from your body rehearsing for the day you conceive - and to go about your business as if nothing were wrong.

The strength to be pinned down and fucked full of cum, with or without your consent - and to stand up afterwards and walk away, even if your future has just been chosen for you.

The strength to grow, to carry - to be altered from head to toe, hips and breasts and womb, to bring new life into the world.

The strength to grit your teeth and push a baby out from between your legs - or to endure the surgeon's scalpel and the long recovery, all to the same purpose.

Isn't that empowering? Sure, men can open jars and lift weights and pin you down and rape you. But you're built for so much more. You may not have sheer physical strength, but you have the fortitude to do what needs to be done to ensure the survival of the human species - sometimes even willingly.

It's a gift. And you should be grateful for it.

[fulfillpurpose]

How does it feel to have your destiny inside you?

To have a man's bare cock filling your pussy, and know that when he comes, he's claiming your future?

Do you know what that feels like?

You should find out.

[fulfillpurpose]

most recent life story anonymous here. two things:

my first anon to you that I referenced was here -> (https://www.tumblr.com/fulfillpurpose/751842881096089600/well-its-currently-5am-the-sun-is-starting-to?source=share) and-

that last sentence about being able to drink on my 21st made me come after being nowhere near doing so, passively getting off before checking your blog 🫠

(Previously: the last post, and the first one)

Truly, that makes it so much better.

You're "very anti baby", but for years you've been constantly thinking about your womb - you've had to, because every monthly cycle was a rollercoaster and a threat. For years you've known that - medically speaking - you're burning to be bred. That a man knocking you up would fix you.

And now... You've never even been filled, but you're desperately hungry just from the idea, and you're with a man twice your age who's starting to realize just how much the thought of fucking a baby into you turns him on.

Your body's crying out for it and the idea of it sets both your minds aflame, and - again - he hasn't even come in you yet. This is the very start.

Do you ever think, when you're talking to him, about how his cum could soothe you? How your raging, cycling, dangerously powerful hormones might finally settle down - busy but at peace - as your body happily went to work making him a daddy?

Do you really understand yet how much your body wants him to make you complete?