goatgoesmbe

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Here are some of the donations for Congo

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I've been having an hyperfixation on this man for months and thought I might aswell come to Tumblr to find my community, though I don't know how it works

I mean it, like

... Down BAD.

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i miss them.

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“It’s sad that we never get trained to leave assumptions behind.”

— Sebastian Thrun

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..i can confirm i feel better after allat

“Sometimes you have to lose your mind before you come to your senses.”

— Unknown

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BOTH BAD.

But still, learn the difference between orange and apple gdi

..i beg people to learn the difference between systemic racism and personalized racism

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..i beg people to learn the difference between systemic racism and personalized racism

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🦈

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Need this on my wall and in my walls

Feast your eyes, I have made Gaz as promised.

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You already know who it is 💀🧼

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nom

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NikPriceWeek2025

Day 2: Close Call

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When your mum decides your Superior needs a nice handmade Xmas jumper

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I just thought you know that I am once again thinking about Simon Riley on his knees, begging to come

Preferably still fully clothed with his hands tied

God I need to hear him whimper SO BADLY

Hehe, consider this set in the same universe as this one 🥰😚

cw: 18+ | fem!dom!Reader; Mommy kink; sub!Simon Riley; degradation kink; foot fetish (if you squint)

You’re not quite sure anymore how it happened. It was a whirlwind of emotions and confessions once the secret was out in the open, spilled like golden yolk on kitchen tiles when the egg was dropped accidentally. 

Neither Simon nor you had known that either of you was involved in the arrangement. He’d been a sugar daddy spoiling what he assumed was a woman in need of some extra money, while you acted like a sugar babe for a man who’s obviously lonely in his free time.  

Both of you were sort of correct, you figured. 

Once the initial shock and shame were settled, though, the arrangement... changed. 

No more sneaky texts and pictures in between deployments and briefings. No more vagueness and lame excuses. And when all that fell away, you got a whole new look at the Simon Riley who had been hiding behind a cracked phone screen. 

Turns out, he’s not as confident as he’d previously presented himself over text. 

Sat in the well-used armchair of his private flat, you flick through the newest novel that he’d bought for you, legs crossed elegantly. Dressed in a short black silk robe and the smug confidence you’ve been acquiring over the past few weeks―thanks to his help. 

A soft huff catches your attention, and your eyes flicker up almost lazily.  

And there he is, Simon Riley.  

Sitting on his meaty haunches in front of the armchair, stripped naked, hands folded behind his back, fat cock jutting out pathetically from a nest of dirty blond pubes, steadily drooling pre from his dark pink tip. 

The sweetest picture of obedience―were it not for his bratty attitude whenever he feels especially needy. Much like now. 

You haven’t touched him in a week, just because you can.  

Quirking an eyebrow, you finally speak up, “Got something to say there, hm?”  

His jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth, throat bobbing as he swallows a frustrated and, most likely snarky, reply, before he shakes his head. 

“What’s that?” You snap the book closed, jumping on the chance to tease him some more like a dog chasing cars. The book lands on the side table as you toss it carelessly. “Use your words like a big boy.” 

A shudder runs down his spine; you can see his pectoral muscles flex with the slight tremble. His cock jumps, more precum drips on the hardwood floor, adding to the little pool already drying there. It’s an obscene contrast of dark wood and white spunk. You hope that it will stain. 

His shoulders slouch as he exhales the breath he’s been holding, “No... mistress.”  

“Mhmm.” Humming non-committedly, uncrossing your legs and bending forward some as if to inspect him. “Ugh, look at you, Simon.” You sneer. “Look at what a pathetic little slut you are for me.”  

His pale skin starts flushing even deeper, scars more prominent as a dark blush creeps up his neck, up to the tips of his ears. Nostrils flaring with another huff, you can clearly hear the tiniest whine coming from the back of his throat. 

He nods jaggedly. “Y-Yes, mommy.” 

“So fucking needy.” You hum again, a mean thought popping up in your brain before you stretch out your right leg to nudge your foot against the underside of his prick, nearly causing him to keel over with a gasp, dark eyes widening. His biceps flexes, hands balling into fists behind his back.  

You’re testing his obedience and restraint, even though you know that he’s one of the most discipline men you’ve ever met―which only makes this even more fun. 

“Aww, so pent up, ain’t’cha?” you coo, dragging your manicured toes over his tip until your skin glistens with his precum. “Do you wanna cum, sweetheart? Wanna cum like the weak slag you are?” 

His abs clench and unclench, and it’s visible under the layer of pudge covering them; his breathing becomes ragged as he squirms on his haunches, desperate to keep himself from jerking his hips and seeking out more stimulation. 

When he answers, his gravelly baritone voice cracks: “I am weak, mummy,” he whines, eyes hazy and pupils blown. “M’ weak f’you. Please―” 

“Please, what?” you croon before pushing the soft sole of your foot into his crotch, putting pressure on his full sac until his massive body quakes. He cries out roughly, head lolling forward as he trembles, bringing his large hands forward to brace on his thighs. 

“O-oh... Bloody. Christ,” he groans, fighting the sharp pleasure coiling in his gut as his balls draw up tightly. “I–’m gonna mmm’fuck―” You don’t stop as you watch him fall apart with a certain gleeful twinkle in your eyes while you keep rubbing your foot over his throbbing cock and balls, agonizingly slow, so you’re able to feel every twitch and pulse. 

And right before he spills his tremendous load all over the floor and your skin, you pull your foot away to cross your legs again, ruining his climax while he whimpers and grunts like a mutt.  

“Fucking look at me when you cum, Simon,” you demand, voice sharp yet sultry as you peer down at him, arms resting on the armrests like a queen watching over her loyal toy boy. “It’s the least you can do if you disappoint me like that.” 

His hips jerk again, rutting into the air, buff chest heaving, blunt nails leaving crescent moons as he digs into his skin. He lifts his head, onyx eyes half-lidded and pleading. 

“S-Sorry. ‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to disappoint you.”  

He looks about ready to grovel at your feet, begging for forgiveness, for more of your treatment, more insults and praise, like a torturing shower alternating between scorching hot and icy cold water. 

The sight of him, all wrecked and flustered, makes your heart flutter and your pussy tingle. His cock is still painfully hard as thick cum keeps dribbling from his fluttering slit. 

You plan on keeping him like that. 

Then your eyes flit down once more, catch the larger puddle of his cum on the floor now. 

Nodding your chin at the mess in front of him, a sugary smile graces your lips, “You’re gonna clean that up with your tongue now, soldier.” 

And Simon wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Yes, mistress,” he answers, still panting softly, always eager to please you. 

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