#front closing straitjacket

[louis-sj]

Rosalía’s Straitjacket

Dumb front closing straitjacket

What are the hands doing out?

From: https://www.wmagazine.com/fashion/rosalia-beige-straitjacket-white-dress-black-boots-nyc

A more entertaining video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psaHLi7-DIs

Mystikal - Bouncin' Back (Bumpin' Me Against The Wall)

With a front closing straitjacket in a padded cell.

[seetangus]

Oh how about: Reader loving Azula throughout her mental health crisis and still visiting her in the asylum. So, as she heals, she realizes how much she loves the Reader… and maybe through the story, you could see her reactions to certain things like if R talked about another girl like Ty Lee or something, Azula would feel jelly but doesn’t understand why or if R talks about Zuko she may think she’d like Zuko more like their mother…

idk but it’s sounds fun and I know you are awesome at writing so I bet it’ll be good!

Healing - Azula x reader

[Masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, no warnings

1.897 words, I hope you like it! :)

The metal door closed audibly, its movement making the torches close to it flicker. They barely spent enough light to make things visible in the cell. Now you two were alone.

Azula sat in front of you, tied to a metal chair in a straitjacket. It was a humiliating treatment for a princess, you thought. Still, your heart felt great relief from seeing her again after several months of waiting. It had been difficult to convince the new fire lord Zuko and his comrades to let you visit Azula, as you were considered dangerous due to your loyalty to princess Azula that you had maintained even during the last days of the war. But here you were, finally seeing her, the one your heart ached for, again.

“Hello Azula. I am happy to see you again.”, you said truthfully but very quietly. You did not dare asking her how she felt. Seeing Azula, who had always been so confident and strong in a weak and broken state like this intimidated you.

You could not make out what Azula was thinking. You had been told that she had for some time behaved like a raving maniac, screaming and trying to attack anyone who came close to her. But that phase seemed to be over now. It was obvious Azula was mentally still in a very precarious situation, but right now she was rather calm. At least it seemed like she was.

“What are you doing here, y/n.”, she asked. Your heart jumped at hearing her voice, even if it sounded differently than before. What she said did not sound like a question, but you still answered: “I wanted to see you.” Quieter, you added: “Maybe you need someone to talk to.”

A small silence followed. You could tell that Azula was, even if it had been months, still very stressed and angry about her defeat against Zuko. Still, with a heartwarming effort, Azula tried to initiate a peaceful conversation by asking you about the current situation of the fire nation and other wide-ranging topics. You happily answered all her questions. The conversation got more concrete when she asked about her old friends. Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh and even her brother Zuko. All the ones that had betrayed her. You told about their new positions and how they behaved. You also told her that, as you had remained in your position in the royal palace even after the changing of the fire lord, you were somehow reconnecting with some of them, even if it went slowly.

While listening to you, Azula increasingly looked lost. You would have expected her to be angry at the traitors taking her place in the hierarchy of the fire nation, but she seemed to worry about something entirely different. Nevertheless you talked with eachother until the visiting time was over and the guards ordered you to leave. You also realised your eyes hurt because of the dim light in the cell - it must be painful for Azula to stay here all day.

Having left her cell, a guard told you that they had feared for the worst and were surprised at how calm Azula had been with you. You couldn’t imagine why that was either.

< • ◇ • >

A few weeks passed until your next visit. In that time Azula had changed much; you were told she was still a bit unpredictable, but her violent outbursts had ended completely and she was overall more stable. That had led to the guards daring to attach extra torches to the walls of her cell, finally making the room brighter so your eyes didn’t hurt anymore. The whole atmosphere was different this visit, it was less depressing.

This time you greeted her a bit more confidently and with a smile. It would have been hard not to smile when seeing your loved one feel better. She also looked better than last time - her hair looked less messy and she did not have bags under her eyes. You were genuinely happy it went uphill with her, and you didn’t hide it:

“Hello Azula, you look beautiful today!”

Your warm greeting seemed to have catched Azula off guard; you could see she hesitated a bit before answering, and you even saw her blush a bit, but surely it was only the warm light of the torches combined with your own feelings that made you imagine it. Azula wouldn’t blush. Once Azula answered though, she did so with her old attitude: “Of course I look good, y/n. Did you expect me not to?”

That might not have been the most welcoming and thankful answer she could have given, but at least it proved she really felt better, more like back when she wasn’t here. Ah, you couldn’t wait for when she would boss you around and insult anyone else again like in the good ol’ days.

But enough of the dreaming, back to reality! Azula simply made you tell her anything that you thought might interest her. She said she TRUSTED you on choosing the right topics. That was obviously a very unusual thing for her to say but you took it as a compliment and started speaking, mostly about how things changed under the rule of her brother and how the people she knew behaved. Every time you spoke about Ty Lee or Mai you could see her eyebrows furrow and she did not comment again until you changed topics. When you mentioned that Mai and Zuko were a couple, her whole face lit up and she interrupted you, exclaiming: “Ha! That’s fantastic! Isn’t it great, y/n?” You agreed but Azula suddenly feeling happy for her brother genuinely confused you.

Anyhow, Azula soon seemed to become annoyed by the things you told her about the people she knew. After some time she simply cut you off and said: “Yes yes uncle Iroh’s new tea shop is interesting and I should care but I want you to tell me more about yourself.” At first, you were dumbfounded, but since she seemed to really be interested (and also since it was impossible not to fulfill any request of hers anyways), you talked about yourself for the rest of your visit.

Some time later, the guards opened the door and told you to leave. You had already said good-bye to Azula and turned to go away, but she suddenly made a harsh move with her head, loosening a few strands of her hair that now dangled down. “Oh y/n, before you leave, would you be so kind and fix this?”, she purred with unusual kindness, inevitably making you feel butterflies.

Hesitantly, you turned around and lifted your hand to her beautiful hair, gently brushing it back into place. She just smirked triumphantly and let you leave. You couldn’t put into words how heavenly you had felt that moment, despite the stares of the guards.

After you were gone, Azula thought about what had happened. Why had she done this. Making her hair messy on purpose to ask you to fix it. Not that it hadn’t felt good, feeling human touch after months of deprivation had actually felt awesome, she just genuinely did not know why she had suddenly felt the need to get your attention. And why did she feel so hurt when you talked about Ty Lee or Mai? She did not like not knowing the answer to something, so she was determined to get it the next time you visited.

< • ◇ • >

You did not let Azula wait for long. As quickly as the harsh regulations of the Asylum allowed, you returned. According to the guards, who prepared you for the visit, Azula had been behaving much better: there had been no angry outbursts or attempts to harm anyone at all since your last visit.

Luckily for Azula, her good behaviour had led to an even greater improvement in the furnishing of her cell: the torches had been replaced with lanterns who emitted a brightness that somewhat resembled daylight, making it much more bearable to stay in her cell.

“How do you feel, Azula?”

“I’m well, y/n. Actually, it is very relieving that you are here now, because I can finally ask you some very important questions.”

Naturally, Azula saying your name made you feel butterflies. She sounded almost like her old self again. “I’m happy to answer anything you ask me.”, you assured, excited about what questions she could have for you. You looked at her expectantly.

She also only looked at you instead of asking questions. Well, she did not just ‘look’, she seemed to have… found something on you that interested her very much. More than any question she could ask you.

“Your eyes look very happy, y/n.”, she suddenly said.

You had not been prepared for that. Your eyes widened, making Azula grin. It was not her usual grin, though. It seemed like this grin was not fueled by self-absorption and superiority as it had been until now, but rather Azula seemed to be genuinely happy, feeling real joy. You had never seen that on her before, so naturally you were very happy for her! And for yourself, for being able to witness such a beautiful moment and being part of it.

“Oh I wish the visits weren’t this short.”, Azula said, her gaze still venturing in the depth of your eyes. You were a bit confused. “Azula, the visit has just started - we have plenty of time. Also, I will come back soon! As soon as possible!”, you quickly assured.

Azula tried getting closer to you, but she was restrained by her chains. You had both almost forgotten about them. “Y/n, I do not only want to be with you during visits.”

You were speechless. All your blood was gathering in your head and your voice decided this would be a good moment to give up. “A-azula … I want to see you more often too…” you mustered up all the courage you had. “In fact”, you gulped, “I feel pained in every moment we are separated from eachother.”

Azula smirked and lifted her nose up, making her look as powerful as before; she was clearly enjoying you being flustered. But there was something different, something new in her eyes. Something that had not been there a few months ago, and that had grown each time you visited her.

“You like me, y/n, don’t you?”

Azula lowered her head, and it seemed like there even was a bit of worry or insecurity in her voice when she asked again: “You do, right?”

“Yes Azula, I do.”

You wanted to hug her, caress her and hold her close, but knowing that the guards would rush in and restrain you, it was better to remain sitting. You did not hold back expressing your affection verbally, though.

Azula was, like always, the first one to regain her composure, and you tried to do so as well, although it was not easy.

“Well, it’s settled then.", Azula said.

“... What’s settled?”, you asked, unsure of what she meant.

“When I get out of here,'' Azula answered, “I will arrange that we see eachother much more often than we currently do and that the royal family welcomes a new member. And now tell me again how much you love me, y/n.”

[ghost-whump]

For Your Own Good

Second part to my first post!

CW: Institutionalized whump, (mental) hospital setting, vaguely creepy whumper, doctor whumper/patient whumpee, [discussed] shock therapy/ECT, restraints, implied future electricity/shock whump. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

Whumpee didn’t struggle. Couldn’t struggle.

“Come on,” Whumper held on tight to the front of the straitjacket, hand wrapped around the belt, “We shouldn’t waste time, should we?” A vicious smile tugged their lips.

Whumpee remained silent, biting at the skin of their lip. Their feet dragged slowly forward, a death march into the dark, dark room. The fear that shot down their spine at every step couldn’t hold a candle to the fire that lit under their heels, pressing them forward still.

Then, kck! shhhh… whoomph. Door closed.

No more escape. Even without the jacket, even if Whumper couldn’t catch them, the air-locked door wouldn’t budge for anything. Only illuminated by the glow of the various screens and panels and buttons and keypads, the room is a void.

A single cold slab of a “bed” stands menacingly in the center. Adorned with worn leather straps that rubbed skin raw, scuff marks from banging and scratching at the surface, all topped off with a tasteful spatter of blood near the middle.

Though, large hands undid each buckle on their person, leaving the jacket to fall to the floor. Whumpee immediately wrapped their arms around their torso, trying to cover as much bare skin as possible. Not that it would help, but it made them feel better.

“Well?” Whumper, who had pulled away by now, “You know what to do.” They gesture vaguely to the table and turn around to play with the buttons and screens.

And the doctor isn’t wrong. Whumpee does know what to do. Lay down, head forward, legs together, stare up and up and up at the ceiling.

“You’re getting quite good at this, Whumpee.” Whumper’s face came into light above them, a wicked grin twisting their face into one even scarier than usual.

Whumpee closed their eyes. They couldn’t look anymore. If they didn’t look, maybe it would stop. Maybe they’d wake up in their cell (…or their home, if they dared dream that far) and would behave this time. Never have to—

“Ah!” A thick strip of leather tightened suddenly around their wrist. Whumpee yelped and their eyes flew open.

Whumper shook their head, “Tsk, Whumpee. You were doing so well,” They buckled the strap, far too fast and tight than anytime before. They tilted Whumpee’s head, doing the same to their other wrist. “You know, I was even considering letting you off easy with some solitary. Yet you had to go and look away from me. You’re usually so good at eye contact.”

“That—agh, that hurts!” Whumpee pulled at the restraints, though they knew it was futile. “P-Please, I’m sorry, I—mmpf!”

The final strap of leather struck their face, its specialised rubber gag worming between their teeth. Protests now barely audible, Whumper smiled and pulled away. “There you go, Whumpee. That’s better now.”

Phantom pains shot through their veins, preparing for what’s to come. Each sticky node placed under their shirt wracked another sob from their chest. No matter how much it happened, it never got easier. Feeling their body seize with each passing second, flashing colors and lights that didn’t really come, nightmarish terror that never stopped.

“It’s alright,” Whumper flashed their teeth, placing the final two nodes on Whumpee’s temples, “The ECT is for your own good. Don’t you feel better after it’s done?”

They tried to shake their head, No! It feels bad! Bad bad bad! It hurt! But it didn’t stop Whumper. The doctor turned around, taking their time in approaching the large lever on the wall.

Whumper’s hand gripped the lever tight, throwing one last glance to their writhing patient. Readjusting their grip, they get ready to finally pull down. “Don’t worry, Whumpee, you’ll feel much better after we’re done.”

really not sure how happy i am with this one, but i figured it be best to post it! enjoy :]

[hopesndreams-au]

(From my Amaris Undertale sideblog)

*Whoa, what kind of AU did I fall into?

*Is this (gestures vaguely at the trio) normal for you guys?

*Cuz in my universe, Chara isn’t the most…alive anymore.

*Like, at all. We got them a robot body.

*What the heck.

*Eh, dad’ll probably come pick me up.

*You guys want some fruit snacks?

(Before I answer this, I'd like to say how excited it makes me to receive an ask from you. Also, do you think you could send me a link to your sideblog(s)?)

Uh, this is a post-True Pacifist AU. And if you're talking about Chara having a human body, then yeah. It's been like this for about a year.

You've really come at a bad time. Frisk just went geno and I can't find the straitjacket anywhere.

*Frisk is at the top of the stairs, their eyes glowing red. They're smiling creepily and holding the Real Knife*

What the– HEY! Gimme my knife back!

No.

*Frisk disappears for a moment and then reappears in front of you. Now that they're up close, you see that their sclera is black.*

I'd love some fruit snacks.

What the heck!? *Asriel turns to Chara* When'd you teach 'em to shortcut?

I didn't.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Okay, it's not the weekend yet, but I had a very tough day and need a lot of some fluff with eventual smut with Choso. Since you're my fav JJK person here who accepts requests, I thought it was worth trying to send a request out of schedule.

I'm sorry to hear that. And I'm your favorite JJK author? Really? You have no idea how big and ridiculous the grin on my face is rn. Like I'm giggling and tapping my feet rn. So the reason I made Thirsty Weekends is because it's hard to say when my schedule will get busy and IDK when I'd be able to answer requests in the middle of the week. My inbox is by no means closed, and I'm always open to listen about people's days if they need to talk. Feel free to inbox me with requests, or just random stuff. I try to respond to everything. I'm very nice. I only bite when I'm hungry.

(actual writing below)

You slam the front door shut, your angry footsteps alerting Choso instantly. He sees your face, that tight, pinched, look of pure anger and quickly runs over to pull you into a tight hug. You struggle against him.

"Don't want a hug." He doesn't let go and you feel helpless, thrashing about until tears start falling down your cheeks.

"I don't want a hug," you say softly as your voice cracks.

"It's ok. I wanted to hug you anyway." Choso's arms are like a straitjacket around you, preventing movement, pressing you against his warm, muscular chest. A sob escapes you and you bury yourself into the crook of his neck.

"I fucking hate everything Cho."

"It's ok. Let's take a breath and calm down." He scoops you up into his arms and carries you into your shared bedroom, laying you down on the bed before spooning you possessively, arms around your waist, gently squishing the softness of your belly. His presence instantly calms you down. "Tell me what happened."

"It's just everything. Work was awful. I got dragged into a meeting that wasn't my responsibility. And I'm fat."

"Hey. No. You are not. You're perfect. And screw those people for making my baby cry." He presses kisses to the back of your neck and holds you tighter. You sniffle, trying to calm down.

"Promise?"

"Yes. My sweet doll, yes. So perfect. An angel. I'm blessed to have you." His knees float under yours and bend upwards, bringing you into fetal position and tucked in more intimately with his body. That feeling of being rolled up like a little bun against him was so sweet and you feel a wave of peace wash over you. You sigh deeply.

"You're the best Cho." He continues to nuzzle your hair, and you suddenly can't ignore how firm his chest was pressed against your back, the cut abs pressing down the length of your spine. Teasingly, you grind your ass against his thighs, grinning wickedly as a whimper leaves his lips and he hardens.

"Cho." You turn to face him. "Fuck the negativity out of me."

"Ah...are you sure?" His cheeks start to show a smattering of pink.

"So sure." You brush your lips against his encouragingly, sending a current of heat through him.

Taking this as a cue, he wastes no time slipping you out of your clothes, pressing wet kisses along the length of your neck. You paw at his clothes, the garments thrown about carelessly, and press your softness against the warm, chiseled, wall of his body enjoying the intimate skin-to-skin contact. Your fingers tangle in his hair, let loose from his usual double top knots before kissing him greedily, a gasp escaping your lips, muffled by his as he rubs your clothed clit with his thumb.

The gasp becomes a moan, legs parting as he touches the needy little bud, enjoying each throb and spasm.

"So wet my angel...You really wanted me huh?" Choso's free hand tugs your nipple, adding to the growing desire in your belly.

You whine and bury your face in the crook of his neck as pleasure flows through you , and suddenly, it peaks, and you sob your delight as it passes through you, wracking your body as you spasm uncontrollably. You feel his hands pull your panties down and before you can process what's happening, he lifts your leg and throws it over his hip and slips his stiff, throbbing cock into your slick folds.

His cock felt so good, angled to hit your G-spot each time he thrusts, and you snuggle as close to him as possible, trying to touch every inch of skin possible against his, whimpering.

"Feels good Cho...mhm...don't stop...need your cock..."

His teeth are clenched as he keeps up his rhythm, and soon, you cum again, crying out weakly as he too, with a guttural groan, lets himself orgasm, cock twitching inside you as he spills himself deep into your womb. He doesn't pull out, instead pulls you against him, stroking your back and kissing your forehead tenderly.

"How was that?" he murmurs against your hair. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah." You let out a breath. "Much better."

banners by @/ thecutestgrotto

[sashi-ya]

𝔈𝑦𝔢𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤 +18 äsnödt.x.f!reader

✦ requested by @stygianoir for the valentine's event ➜ For your event, cinnamon and dark chocolate, please For as nodt  Fem reader plz. ➜ I hope you enjoy love! ♡ ✦ tw: dark! content. blood play. mentions of mental health issues. please if you can't stand strong topics do not read, it's As Nodt you won't find something super sweet here. fucking to have a kid as Yhwach requires, if you know the lore you will understand. size kink. vag sex. reader is also a quincy, she has the perfect ability to compliment Äs ~ ✦ wc: 2.3k

Your majesty assigned you to the F Sternritter. You take a look at him.

He isn’t really that tall; his body probably weighs less than a feather. Fear? how scary… Is he that scary?

Long, dark tufts of hair dancing like the claws of the devil in the wind. He is so pale, why is he under the sun? what is he doing? Maybe he enjoys the solitude…?

“Don’t get too close, he is probably going to try and terrorize you” Gisselle tells you; she scares you too and you are still right close to her.

“I mean, there isn’t much to talk to him so…” you mumble back, taking a cracker from the plate.

Gigi laughs. “There is, sweetheart!” she scoffs, jumping away to go search for her beloved Bambi.  You scratch your head. You begin to wonder if this is actually a mental health asylum, and the white uniforms are in reality straitjackets. Am I a Quincy after all?

Some days passed, and, little by little your curious nature begins to root inside you. When will the flower of intrigue finally bloom? Perhaps, tonight.

After so many hours spent into simply watch him sit outside, allowing his pale almost white skin to feed of the sun, you concluded he either likes being alone -or- hates people. Maybe, both. However, you wanted to know him, you really wanted to hear his voice and understand exactly what is exactly his power can do and how he uses it.

And oh, love… didn’t you hear curiosity killed the cat?

“Sir… I was assigned under your order” you murmur, with your white hat in your hand and the uniform feeling like strangling you. Something about him, even if you can only see his long hair raining on his back, makes your skin turn bumpy.

You swallow. You notice him putting his mask up. You can’t see his real face, you never could. He always uses that black mask over.

“You… are you afraid of me?” he asks, the first time you hear his voice and it’s way deeper than you imagined.

You blink, watching the oranges rays of the sunset hitting on the silver Starcross embroidered in his white cape. “I- I am- not. Sir” you answer, trembling. Is he already using his power? Is it ok to tell the Sternritter of Fear that you are actually not scared of him?

Suddenly, he isn’t in front of you but behind you. Cold hands with claw like long nails cover your mouth, like the mask that covers his. The spiritual pressure he imprints in you makes your legs weak, your lips become cold, almost like ice under his touch. A shiver runs through your spine. You can feel his cheek against yours, the spikes of his mask grazing your skin.

“How comes my fear does not work on you? What are you?” he asks, always so calm and yet with a commentary filled of annoyance.

You wanna talk, but your lips are absolutely sealed by how he has you trapped. In any case, you wouldn’t be able to move your lips, you are paralyzed. “Mh…” you mumble, muzzled still and trying to deny side o side.

“You think you can’t move your mouth, but your lips are trembling… I can feel them in my palms… are you cold? Are you scared of me?” he repeats; how dare you tell him you aren’t.

You nod. Some moans escape your throat, it’s all you can do.

Äs lets you go. He turns you around, and his eyes narrow as he looks like he might be smiling under the black covering. Tilting his head to the side, his long hair falls on top of his neck and into the void like a black waterfall.

“Did Giselle tell you I was going to terrorize you?” he asks, trying to sound friendly. (No matter how much he could try, though… he is scary as hell)

You nod. Again. Little to anything is the oxygen flowing to your lungs; you have forgotten how to breathe. You think you are scared, you wanna believe is that what you are feeling.

And yet… what is it? Why can’t you run away? Why you want him to keep doing whatever he is doing with you? You wanna scare me… keep doing it, as long as I can feel that pressure on top of my shoulders… just, once, more.

“I won’t terrorize you, you are working for me and if the Majesty assigned you to me then you should be next to me. Follow me…” he straightforwardly orders you. Where does he wanna go? you have no idea, but you follow him either way.

The cold halls of the Silbern receives yours and his steps. But only yours seems to resonate around. Äs Nödt is like a weightless creature, like a ghost perhaps, crawling through the floors of the silver palace.

He stops right before one of the equally sterile door of many more, and with the same hands that covered your mouth some minutes ago he unlocks the latch. “Come in… please” he mumbles, reinforcing that constant shivering sensation on your back.

You get inside. Everything is made of metallic materials, everything so white and silver. And what else would you expect from a Quincy?

“Nödt-sama… why are we here?” you ask, naïve enough not to understand his true intentions. But really, why would you think of something immoral with him? I mean, does he even know what a woman’s body looks like?

The man in front of you turns around, once again facing you, making you slightly take some steps back, making you feel cold. His black orbs scanning you. Why are those so big?

“You weren’t informed why you were assigned to me?” he asks, really curious and again tilting his head to the side.

You take a quick look at his neck. It’s completely fair… and you wonder if that type of skin would get bruised easily if you were to bite it.

“I asked you something” he impatiently urges you to answer, this time rising his voice a little more.

You shake your head, focus (Name)! “I- I really don’t know. I was told to serve you, sir. I… I can use my bow fine and- I’ve been targeted as a fearless woman by our Majesty himself” you quickly answer. It is true, you were brought as part of the Wanderreich as one top tier Soldat, specially because you weren’t scared of the things most of the others were.

Äs laughs; it makes you jolt from your place. You weren’t sure he could laugh… at all. Why, though, is he laughing?

“Perfection. I’ve read your report! Let’s give our King what he needs, ok?” he whispers, coming closer to you, grabbing you by your nape.

You swallow; exactly… what does he-

His long nails graze your lips, he plays with them, turning them white as he presses down on them. “These are…” he exclaims, amazed at your human beauty. Those claws then, carve in your cheeks. It hurts, it makes you grimace. “Does this hurt? Can you feel pain?” he asks, pressing harder once more before stopping.

“Y-yes. Sir. It hurts” you mutter, your lips tremble again. You feel like frozen. You are shaking, but you don’t want him to go away. In fact, you want more. Take that mask off. Take it off.

He is barely taller than you, but you still look up at his big onyx eyes. He is barely bigger than you, but you want his skinny frame to collide with yours.

As suddenly carves the tip of his index nail under your eyebags, dragging down, making a little cut. The few drops of blood run like a crimson tear down your cheek. But you don’t mind, you don’t care… perhaps it is your own Quincy ability; you are able to conceal the fear, you are able to transform it into pleasure…

Oh, what a perfect pair; total opposites that compliment each other. You, a revolution for the beliefs, for his grief. Him, a challenge.

Show Our Majesty, show him how deserving you are of his soul.

“Am I here to give our King Yhwach a new soul in which he would feed, Äs Nödt-sama?” you ask, now completely sure of what is about to happen.

He smiles again. His eyes turn little, his black irises now tint the whole socket in dark matter. He smirks so pleased; he lifts his arms just a little and his wrists look like dislocating to the outsides.

The Sternritter pushes you against a desk with a single Bible on top of it. Long arms that doesn’t seem strong, have enough strength to lift you up and sit you over the desk.

“Take off the mask” you plead, as he has already ripped your Soldat uniform.

His pupils dilate, or maybe that’s what you think his eyes do. In any case those become bigger. Is As scared of something, after all?

“It’s…” he takes time to answer, until his fingers pull the thick black fabric down. As looks to the side, he is for some seconds unable to look at you in the eyes. Everybody has at least a little bit of humanity left, still.

You take his hand, causing the soldier to freeze. How- why is a woman taking his hand with hers?

The sharpness of his nails, you take it directly to your lips. And you press down, carving yet another cut. It’s so easy to make them bleed, the red fluid drizzles your chin and down your neck. You don’t activate Blut Vene. You don’t want to.

“I can tear them even more” you smirk… after all you were out of your mind. You all were out of your minds.

“No need…” he whispers, licking your lips clean from the blood and lifting your legs so that your heels are also over the desk.

Spreading your legs more and more, you watch him unbutton the long coat that covers his skinny body. You anticipate to see his anatomy, you really wanna know how he looks.

You smirk at the very first sight. It’s not what you thought, it’s even better. Yes, he is skinny, sure. His ribs protrude just a bit, and his stomach completely plain has tight skin that looks delightful. Down, down you go, hipbones absolutely noticeable. They kinda hurt against your inner thighs, and even if he doesn’t seem to be the biggest man you ever seen… don’t judge a book by it’s cover… The way his erection gits against your panties is all you wanted to try, and even under his white trousers it perfectly shows.

“You seem to enjoy looking at me way more than I expected” he grunts, before wanting to bite your neck.

“Hng… yes…” you whine, as he finally nibbles on your skin and squeezes one of your breasts.

You smirk, not always beautiful is what people believe it is. With great expertise your hands unbutton his trousers, sliding down your hand, groping until his sex you gasp.

With your head thrown back as he is now sucking for dear life your nipples, you take his hardness in between your hands. Pleased, to find out is way bigger that you were really imagining, your walls already spasm… it’s gonna be hard fitting it inside.

The more you pump, the more he bites. You moan louder, he grunts harder. Harder, yes, faster. Your palm, the back of your hand gets covered in sprouting delight. And every time it oozes out, his bony anatomy shivers, spasms. The same trembling motions of his terrorized victims…

You pull him closer, near your entrance. Just do it, once and for all. Fuck me, scare me, stretch me, show me my worst fears and also, impregnate me while you do.

He doesn’t have, he doesn’t hold mercy for you. It goes hard, painfully delicious, sliding inside as you clench to him. You whine, moan, and scream louder until you get used to. Your nails carve onto his jutted shoulder blades.

He traps your shoulder with his teeth; it’s true, he can’t kiss you like butterflies on your skin… but he can drag you to the darkest, unexplored piece of your soul… there, where moral and prejudices don’t reach, there where there is no light, where you are in complete darkness, and in terror and pleasure you rejoice... because nothing can’t stop you, nothing can judge you, you, yourself can’t judge your actions.

It feels like breaking you in half. How comes he is so big? Was he that big before being a Sternritter? Who cares…

“Ngh… it- hu- it’s so good” you grunt, mixed sensations collide in one to create lust. You can see your belly bulging. You can see his black eyes disappear and turn white. They go totally blank, never has he ever felt, nor experience such rapture than right now.

“Thanks to Our King for the strength, I can’t lose it, I can’t lose it” he repeats, as he now goes faster and it’s easier to pound into you.

Your back finally hits the desk, you are laying there, he has crawl on top of you. His hair tickles your face, the muscles of his neck tensing, the ones on his lower belly too. Yours, following. You can feel the climax coming to you, his amazed expression hits you harder that it should…

He is, perhaps, for the first time, experiencing other’s reaction that’s not fear, that’s not terror towards and because of him… is this pleasure? Did I create this?

Yes, Äs… you are also able to do this. You see… there isn’t just one fear.

Your heels carve in the small of his back, trapping him in your orgasmic milking convulsions…

It is him, who is now frozen, who is now only driven by pure instinct. Welcome to your heaven, the Fear!

Give more eyes to the King, for him to see, the last nine days of this world

[sympathyformephisto]

Kindred Spirits Chapter 23 sneak peek

CW: Illness, emetophobia, menstruation

Azula

Though the bath a few hours ago made her feel better for a couple of hours, she quickly grew nauseated and sweaty. The idea of ever eating again was unthinkable; her stomach felt like a sun burning her from the inside out.

So did her heart, her core.

When she exhaled, sometimes smoke or even a stream of blue fire poured out. When she sucked in a breath, doing her best not to singe the sheets or set the room on fire, it hurt. Her throat spasmed with heat. She had to let it out, but she couldn’t control it when she did.

When she did sleep, nightmares plagued her. She awoke in midair, head snapping back and forth, until she collapsed on the mattress and spat glowing bile all over the front of her night shirt. She dressed in another shirt, which was soon also drenched in sweat.

In the morning, she was miserable. Vlad attempted to get some porridge in her, but the mealy texture bothered her, and soon the food came back up. She darted to the bathroom and coughed and vomited until her throat seized.

In the past few months, her hair had grown longer, so Vlad knelt with her and pulled the sticky hair from her face. He kept his hand at the crown of her head, keeping any strands from falling. She no longer had the strength to rebuke him. At least, not now.

This close, she could feel his burning ghost core, the heat, and she almost wanted to tell him to go. No wonder her temperature was one-hundred and seven degrees until Vlad stayed up all night to lower it. He gave Azula a steady stream of cold washcloths to dab on her face or press to her neck and water for her to furiously gulp down. Eventually, he gave her something she kept down—mango-flavored Italian ice and a strawberry drink full of “electrolytes.”

Though, truth be told, she didn't so much taste them as inhale the cold and find ease in how it soothed the boiling acid in her. She was too sick to be ashamed at her lack of manners, and her helplessness—wasn’t that the way of things? It was long before she ended up in this world, ever since Zuko sentenced her to a lonely room and a straitjacket.

Even as sweat pooled in every corner of her itching body, chills coiled down her spine. If she stayed under the sheets, she burned, and if she slept atop them, she froze. She wished she could take off her skin. Perhaps as a ghost, she could.

That evening, Vlad changed the sheets and calmly picked up the discarded clothes that were soaked in either sweat or sick. As he did, she shivered on the ottoman at the end of the bed, salty mucus leaking into her mouth. In his ghost form, he'd taken off his cape and draped it over her shoulders.

May I? Vlad always asked before he wiped her face with a wet cloth or a tissue.

By the next day, Azula was exhausted and slept through it, waking to her pillow dampened by ectoplasm-blotched saliva and lumpy phlegm. It felt as if she'd endured a year of illness. She was cocooned in Vlad’s red and white cape.

Ectoplasm leaked everywhere, and she spent so much time in the bathroom, even when Vlad gave her medicine for an upset stomach. She couldn’t keep down broth, and she knew that whatever soups they tried Vlad had made himself. The man himself did everything he could, but she could feel the anxiety rolling off him as he kept himself from pacing. Anxiety and contrition.

All that helped was the ice and fluids, almost painfully cold. The buzzing and whirring around her, from the humidifier and large fans, were unbearably loud.

But it was never enough.

[kleenexwoman]

I'm finally getting out of my fog and writing again!

Naturally, I'm writing about brain chemicals more. This time it's Steve and Eddie, and there might be a surprise mentally ill guest star I will make you feel unexpectedly bad for. (@thorniest-rose you are literally the mortal inspiration for me writing this all tbh)

Sneak preview:

Billy oozes by Eddie’s locker after lunch, and Eddie expects him to say something about Steve, but he doesn’t.

“Need some white heat,” is Billy’s opening line.

“Dude, your dealer in Los Angeles might know what the fuck you mean, but you gotta be a little more specific with us hicks,” Eddie says. “That could be, like, anything.”

“Nose candy, moron.” Billy rolls his eyes.

“Are you fuckin–” Eddie stuffs his books into his locker and lowers his voice. “What are you, a narc? You can’t just buy cocaine off me in the hallway, idiot!”

“I’m so bored, man,” Billy whines. “What, do I gotta come to your special little goblin rock in the woods or whatever for anything halfway decent?”

“Look,” Eddie says. “It’s pizza day. I have oregano, ‘cause the pizza here is basically grilled cheese, and then I have antacids so you can concentrate in class. And I have some aspirin for girls on their periods. If you want anything more interesting than that, you gotta come to my place.”

“I thought you delivered,” Billy says.

“You can walk to my place,” Eddie points out. “I don’t deliver when I can hear you blasting Speedwagon across the park.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Speedwagon,” Billy says.

“Didn’t say there was,” Eddie says. “I’m just saying, you can walk. Or drive, or whatever.”

“Fine,” Billy says, and points at him. “Five-thirty, sharp.”

“Yeah, whatever, man,” Eddie says as Billy walks off.

Whatever. He’ll be at home or he won’t. It’s not like Billy has that much money, not unless Hagan is sending him to get the drugs, which seems like a reversal of dynamic on their part. But the world has changed, who knows what bright new social order blah blah.

It’s a little more of a surprise when Eddie closes his locker ten seconds later and Nancy Wheeler, of all people, is standing there.

“I don’t sell study pills to bitches,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, I’m fine on the… study pills,” Nancy says, wrinkling up her nose like she’s not going to be slamming Mother’s Little Helpers come her frosh year of U of C or wherever the fuck she thinks she’s headed. “It’s about Steve.”

Eddie points at himself, then at Nancy, then raises his eyebrows.

“Please, please don’t sell him anything,” Nancy says.

Eddie angles his whole body towards the retreating Billy, looks back to Nancy, back to Billy, shakes his head, and then turns back to Nancy.

“That’s Billy over there,” Eddie says, “unless I’m very much mistaken.”

“I saw you sitting with him at lunch,” Nancy says.

“Yeah, well, nobody else was,” Eddie says. “Can I go to class now, hall monitor, or do we need to take this to the interrogation chamber?”

“I’m just saying that he’s been through a really hard time,” Nancy says, and raises her hands defensively, “and yes, I know I was part of that–”

“So you understand the unfeasibility, nay, the pure absurdity of your negotiating position here,” Eddie says.

“–but just because we’re broken up doesn’t mean I don’t care about him,” Nancy says. “I mean, six kids? Who has that many children in one lifetime?”

“Mormons?” Eddie blinks slowly. “I’m sorry. Are you coming to me to ask me not to engage in the commerce that is my trade, or are we discussing birth control now?”

“I’m saying that it’s probably unethical for you to target Steve for, like, drug-selling reasons when he’s just been through a really bad weekend,” Nancy says. “So please? Like, please? I don’t want to have to call his parents and explain why their son is in a straitjacket at Central State Hospital.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have called the guy ‘bullshit’ in front of all his friends then,” Eddie chirps. He opens his locker door, shoves his math book inside, and rattles it around for a few seconds just to make a point. “Seems like anything I’m gonna do after that is just gravy.”

“Look,” Nancy says from behind the locker door. “It wasn’t my best moment.”

“It wasn’t,” Eddie agrees. “Neither is this. But I’m willing to do you a favor and forget it.”

“But I’m really serious,” Nancy says. “You have no idea how much harm it could do–”

“Rule One of the Munson Doctrine.” Eddie slams his locker. “Do not give opinions or advice unless you are asked.”

“What?” Nancy tilts her head forward in that way smart girls do when they’re not sure if they’re hearing you wrong or they just think you’re stupid.

“Ethics,” Eddie says. “You mentioned ethics. I have ethics, and I’m sorry they don’t line up with yours, but that’s a big one. Rule Eight: Do not complain about that which you need not subject yourself.”

“Those are the Satanic Rules of the Earth,” Nancy says slowly. “I saw Anton LaVey on Geraldo too, y’know.”

“Okay, you got me.” Eddie throws up his hands. “Twenty bucks and I won’t sell anything to Steve this week. Are you happy?”

“Fine.” Nancy visibly sets her jaw, like she wasn’t the one just accusing Eddie of preying on the weak-minded for sport and profit, and digs a crumpled twenty out of her purse. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

“And I appreciate making a sale without even having to move any product,” Eddie says, stuffing the money into his pocket. “Break up with a few more guys, and I might be able to get into Warhammer.”

[wheelercore]

It's really interesting how we get 3 versions of the creel plotline:

1. The creel trailer, which has alice and henry running up the stairs excitedly together and alice finding the dead rabbit, not in the playground, but what I assume is either the front yard or the backyard. Also henry and alice are noticeably younger, but children grow quickly so I don't know if that was intentional.

2. The show itself, which has the difference in the beginning entry way scene and alice in the playground.

3. The First Shadow, in which alice strikingly missing, despite the fact that the play still takes place when the creels just moved to Hawkins, supposedly. I believe the first promo refers to henry as the new kid in school, emphasizing that henry may be an only child in this play... somehow.

So either something happened to alice before the creels arrived to hawkins (doubtful, this show places a lot of emphasis on hawkins as a setting and I doubt the it would make its central 'cursed town' irrelevant to its plot twist)-

Alice never existed (?? Lol) -

Or something happened to alice after the creels moved to hawkins and what we see in the show is not what it seems.

The third option isn't exactly out of this world. The show, since the beginning, put a lot of emphasis on PTSD, flashbacks, and repressed memories. It's all the more obvious with El recovering memories of Henry and the massacre, but s2 was filled to the brim with allegories and mentions to flashbacks, starting with Phineas "totally not used in the show as an allegory for the psychological effects of trauma" Gage and how will's supernatural experiences were compared to PTSD.

Vecna's curse was intentionally made to be subtle to the victim. None of them knew they were in a hallucination until it was made obvious to them. And... there are just some very interesting word choices going on here:

Hopper corrects Joyce in this scene but the association of flashbacks and nightmares continue. Victor describing his own vecna vision, reminiscent of his own traumatic memories:

Him describing waking up from his later vision, describing both that vision and his "reality" as nightmares:

We don't see Alice dying. Not even in Henry's pov- it's intentionally obfuscated from us.

In the beginning of s4 nightmares are also framed as a sign of the vecna curse, we see specifically Max's nightmare being more so a flashback, or a memory, to Billy's death. Nightmares are also a core symptom of PTSD so it fits the bill with season 2.

Funnily, enough we see Alice also experiences nightmares- which we know what that's associated with:

What exactly were in Alice's nightmares?

In the beginning we also got these very sus lines by Alice of all people, saying how the home looks like a "fairytale" and a "dream", which you know is what people say when they mean something is too good to be true, the opposite of nightmare, used to mean something that is so dreadful its hard to believe.

These lines arent in the creel trailor, which is... interesting.

Also I wonder if there is a hint to this when Henry gains his abilities in the first place. Weirdly enough this is symbolized by Henry forcing a clock to go backwards, metaphorically into the past (and I am obligated to mention this, but the parallel to fred):

Where others saw order, I saw a straitjacket. A cruel, oppressive world dictated by made-up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades. Each life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die. Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. All while performing in a silly, terrible play, day after day. I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join in the madness. I could not pretend. And I realized I didn't have to. I could make my own rules. I could restore balance to a broken world.

Also makes me so curious about the rainbows on the clock during this monologue/scene... a reference to the rainbow room? Makes sense because it seems like the lab kids were killed in a similar fashion to Alice- their jaws weren't broken unlike virginia and the vecna victims. Why?

It's interesting how directly after this scene it cuts to the rabbit being killed- and with the predator/prey theme often represented by animals and a rabbit is definitely a prey animal- and that rabbits body being left for alice, who would later be killed in a similar way.

Why is Henry forecasting Alice's own death to her? For funsies? We see he repeatedly that he used tactics against his parents to hold the mirror up because they've done "terrible things" (still unknown what Virginia's terrible thing is yet). For vecna victims its slightly different, while fred and max fit that bill, patrick and chrissy don't. Their visions were more along the lines of showing them the darkness in their lives that they hide. So it seems to me that vecna shows not just sources of guilt, but the harsh unbridled truth of their lives. So what business did Henry have with Alice?

I'm not saying that there is possibly some weird fucky altered reality/time loss stuff happening in hawkins but. I am.

[ask-the-becile-boys]

Burn

Previous | Next

[11 digitally sketched panels in greyscale. All the shadows are deep and stark.]

[Panel 1: A gray gradient, over which fire sparks fly.]

[Panel 2: A pile of firewood and kindling in a fire pit, in front of a wall of metal plates and a small gravestone reading 'TB' (this is the backyard of Becile Manor; the fire pit is over Pops' grave, in the skeleton of a Copper Elephant). The fire is roaring, giving off many sparks.]

[Panel 3: The Skull, arms crossed and stern, and Scratch, quiet and thoughtful, watch the fire, sparks flying around them.]

[Panel 4: Locksmith, expression inscrutable and holding his cane, and Riker, smooking a cigarette and looking away from the fire. More sparks fly.]

[Panel 5: The Jack walks up, toward the fire and sparks, holding a bundle in his hands. A great shadow is cast behind him by the fire.]

[Panel 6: Close-up of The Jack. He looks down pensively. Sparks fly in his face.]

[Panel 7: Close-up of the bundle from The Jack's POV. It is his straitjacket; the fire burns in the background.]

[Panel 8: The Jack throws the straitjacket into the fire, causing it to flare up with a (SFX) *FWOOM*]

[Panel 9: Shot from the attic. Hare watches from the open round window as the others watch the fire. A few sparks make their way from the fire in through the window.]

[Panel 10: The Jack closes his eyes and tilts his head back as the straitjacket burns.]

[Panel 11: The fire sparks drift away into the night. A crescent moon shines in the background. End ID]

[louis-sj]

Front closing straitjacket

Leather collar

[simpywriter]

Flames (Bonus Chapter - 1)

Blue Fire

Pairing: Zuko x Reader Universe: Canon Words: 866

Flames - Main

Summary: you can't stand the way it ended with Zuko's sister. (This is a bonus chapter for my three-chapters fic 'Flames', but you can also read it separatly)

Warnings: angst, angst, angst, a lot of angst sorry

«Are you sure you want to do this?» «I am the Fire Lady, how would I look like to the people if I didn’t take care of unresolved issues?». Zuko smiled looking at you, his eyes drifted to the small crown adorning your combed hair, «It’s been a year and it’s still weird to see you dressed so formally» «Well it feels weird too, I certainly prefer my old uniform» He lifted the corner of his lips, looking at you from top to bottom «Or your ‘bed uniform’». His lewd comment earned him a soft punch to the chest, even if you doubted he could feel anything under the royal armor.

«Alright, for the last time. Are you sure you want to be alone?», he asked when his chuckles died down, thumb caressing your cheekbone «Yes, your presence would only make her more hostile» It was obvious that he didn’t like your idea, but he also knew how stubborn you could be when you got something into that hot head of yours, «I’ll be right here, if you need anything». He left a small kiss on your lips before letting you inside the room.

During the Agni Kai against the former Fire Prince, you noticed how battered Azula looked like; but seeing her in that condition, tied to a chair in a straitjacket, with dirt hair covering her hallucinated eyes while she angrily muttered under her breath, made you realize how fragile Zuko’s sister really was. «Look who’s back», she chirped before you could open your mouth, her voice almost consumed and piercing through your ears «The little whiny kid who decided to entirely destroy my life»

«You know it’s not like that». But the girl in front of you just burst in a hysterical laughter that made you jump, her shoulders were shaking before she stopped abruptly looking to her right and growling a “Shut up!”. «You’re just like those two fakes I used to call friends. You used me for power and then, when you realized that you would never be at my level because of your weakness and stupidity, you conspired to destroy me. And you’re the worst of all, with those big innocent eyes… now look at you wearing my crown» Her words dug a hole into your chest, raising an upsetting sensation of guilt inside of you «Why do you hate me so much?» «Because it’s all your fault!» she screamed, trying to jump from the chair and making the restrains struggle to keep her seated, the creaking of the wood and the fabric accompanying Azula’s screams «You convinced that stupid moron of my brother that he was a good person, a leader. So he went against my father and was banished. And I was left alone with him! No mother, no uncle, no friends! Ty Lee ran away right after and Mai didn’t come back to the palace anymore. I was here alone with my father and his rage! You think you’re good and that I’m evil but you’re a horrible person just like me!»

Spit ran from her lips and you found yourself trembling under her red-hot gaze «I-I always considered you as my friend, I didn’t have any idea that they…» Another dark chuckle, «Don’t make me laugh. I was you enemy from the start» You shook your head, trying to blink away your upcoming tears «Azula… I’m sorry…» «Don’t pity me! You hear me?? I was never your friend and I’ll never be!», locks fell from her messy bun, framing her face in a even more disastrous way «So cross that door and go back to my fake excuse of a brother and sleep in my bed in my palace» You just ran away from the room, letting the servants to close the door before collapsing against the wall with ragged breaths. «Hey hey, Y/N», Zuko, who was just a few feet away, reached your side in less than a second, immediately holding your shoulders. «Are you alright? What has she said to you? I swear I’m gon-» «I’m fine», you muttered. You found comfort in his caresses, his soft gaze and the little kisses he placed on your temple.

«She’s not okay Zuko», you said after a while, you hand searched his and you interlocked your fingers together, feeling your boyfriend breathing softly against your hair. He was tense, but at the same time he knew he could trust you with all his being, letting his guard down; «Just… don’t leave her alone» «I won’t». He kissed your neck softly, nothing mischievous behind it, just a reassuring little gesture.

«Do you want to feed the turtleducks?», you asked after a while. He moved away from your neck with a happy grin creasing his lips.

Spirits, he’s just So. Fucking. Cute. But before you could blush at your own thoughts he took a step behind keeping your hands locked together, «You lead, my Fire Lady» he said, and you could feel your heart skipping a beat as he pulled you to him, bringing his lips to your before you could even start to act upon his words. Yes. He’ll be a perfect Fire Lord, brother and partner.

| The End |

Hiiiii, so sorry for the angst ;) BUT I tried to make it up by adding a bit of fluff at the end. Aaaaaand.... Hype your avatar stand ass*s because the next bonus chapter is gonna be a full and juicy SMUT. Hope you liked this chapter! See you next fic!

[feverinfeveroutfic]

love is not enough | chapter twenty-four

He let the dress dangle over his head and shoulders like that of a regalia as he made his way through the backstage area in search of Jay. Anywhere where there was the sight of a black mariner hat with a taro root broach that shone with the glimmering orange of black coral against the darkness that fell over the British Isles, and he could continue the mood of being up on the stage dressed in that manner. He could hardly put his finger on the feeling that scorched through him, but there was just something about having that ring on him while having the leather pants pressed up against his flesh as if it had been made all for him, and then there was the dress being put out there out in the open for all of Great Britain to bear witness to in the meantime. It sent a shiver up his spine, and it didn't help matters that the night was a bit on the damp side after he had been up onstage: though he hadn't broken out to a sweat, he was on that borderline of doing so, and he knew that Jay could bring more sweat to him if he so wished.

He stopped right at the doorway to the backstage area, and he glimpsed around in search of her. That taro root. That taro root broach with the black leather fitted to her body like that of a straitjacket, somewhere amongst the hustle and bustle of the stagehands and the techs.

He hesitated with one hand up on the edge of the doorway, but then he stepped out of the way to make way for the others; he then closed his eyes and relished in the thought of her there somewhere. To channel the behavior of a dog with his nose to the ground, a bloodhound in search of the flesh and blood that led him along like a trail of honey.

Onward to that mischievous smile, and the one that lingered near the corridor to the dressing rooms.

He showed her a playful little smile in return, to which she followed up with a gesture for him to follow her.

“That dress,” she remarked once he came within earshot.

“You have no idea,” he said with a shake of his head. “I feel like I just crossed some kind of borderline.”

“You did!” she proclaimed, and she ran her fingertips down his chest, down the skirt and the bodice as they both dangled down over his chest, and a chill shot up his spine in response.

“Yeah, you like that, don't you, big boy?” she teased him, and he bowed his head a bit, just to accentuate his brow for her. Jay lowered her gaze to his neck and his chest, and she leaned in closer to him. He hooded his eyelids at her as if to seduce her right then and there, right in front of everyone no less, but she paused right before his face.

He nibbled on his bottom lip, much to her amusement.

“Come with me,” she whispered right into his ear, and he swallowed at the feeling of her fingers on the back of his hand, especially since his hand was still down by his hips. He nibbled on his bottom lip once again as she linked her fingers with his: she was so close to touching him, and more so when he realized he was still wearing those snug leather pants. For a moment, he swore that they had grown even more snug with the coupling of the sweat from the show and the feeling that burned inside of him, but they had never changed their size even for a second: Jay led him back to the privacy of his dressing room, and a part of him expected to see Q in there as well. But it was just the two of them.

He thought of bringing out a glass of wine to further loosen the mood in there, but she had beaten him to the punchline with the sight of a vibrator, a dildo, a sleeve, and what appeared to be a massager right before the mirror. She shut the door behind him, and he turned his head to find her locking the door on top of that.

“Oh, dear,” he muttered. Jay then unzipped her jacket to reveal her bare breasts to him, bare except for some tape on her nipples striped together to form the shape of little “x”s. She let the jacket fall to the floor right behind him, and he watched her sashay to the toys on display before him. He shifted his weight and brought his hands to his chest, right underneath the dress that had been draped over his shoulders and chest: he only did it to feel his own skin.

“You got anything in here that might add to it?” he blurted out.

“Like what exactly?” she asked him with a little grin.

“I dunno...” And he finally slipped his hands underneath the skirt and bodice of the dress and lifted it off his head and shoulders. He then shook his black curls about as if he had dunked his head under a cascade of water. “…a bottle of wine, maybe?”

“We are going to France on this little grand tour, are we?”

“Indeed, we are. We'll go to the Riviera and southern France if you so wish, my dear.”

“I can perhaps arrange something like that to happen, baby,” she assured him, and she picked up the dildo, which was about the size of a cucumber and of a hot pink color. She locked eyes with him as she clicked it onto the lowest setting and then rubbed the end of it against her nipples. She moved at a slow, deliberate pace all the while, and he then held his breath as he watched her. The tip all around the rim of her nipples and onto the smooth surface of the tape. Another chill swept over him, and he couldn't help but let his lips part at the sight of her.

Jay showed him her tongue as she slid the dildo's tip in between her breasts, and she clicked the button again to turn it up a notch. He could see her nipples tightening into points from under the tape. With her free hand, she reached to her left for what looked like one of those respiratory pumps from a hospital, except it had a bright blue suction cup on one side.

“Is that what I think it is?” He held his breath when she stuck the suction cup onto the crotch of his leather pants, all while still keeping the dildo pressed onto her chest.

“You know it,” she whispered to him, and she squeezed the bag part of it. The cup tightened down on him and made his knees quiver. The rush of blood to the space between his legs and his heart pounded in his chest. The feeling was enough for him to fall down onto his knees right before her, and as a result, she dropped the pump to the floor. It made a loud clanking noise all the while, but it was loud enough out there beyond the door that no one would hear it at all.

He leaned forth onto his hands so his leatherbound ass was up in the air. Panting, and with his hair dangled down around his head and shoulders towards the floor, he held still. It sucked on him particularly hard, and he knew that the leather added to it.

Jay let out a low whistle, and all manner of thoughts ran through his mind at the sound of her breathing. The first thing he could think of was his own dick between her breasts just for her own pleasure. He raised his gaze from the floor underneath him to the backs of his hands and his wrists, the way that his veins emerged from the backs of his hands in a delicate spiderweb.

Those fingers in between her lips and lightly on the crest of her breasts. To have it light and soft.

But then he caught the sight of her feet before him as she strode around him. He could hardly move as the suction cup had left his knees into some kind of jelly.

The sound of vibration, like something lay underneath the floor boards under him.

But then he realized it wasn't underneath him.

She was behind him with something else, something that vibrated so as to take the effect of the suction cup away. He could feel her reaching between his legs, right between his thighs and onto the crotch of his pants. He wasn't going to let her win this time, however: he rolled over onto his back so she could see him there on the floor before her.

Not once did he think that through, especially as Jay lightly ran her fingers along the inside of his thighs and he held still again, that time flat on his back with his hair over his chest and his hands up over him. He lay there like a bug that had accidentally rolled over onto its back.

Jay licked her lips and brought the bright blue vibrator down to his crotch. He breathed heavily as she moved the side of the vibrator over the top of his leather pants. The leather was snug against his thighs and so if he held still long enough, he could have sworn that he sat there without any clothes there down before her. He locked eyes with her as she moved the vibrator down to the space between his thighs.

He let his lips drop open a bit, but she placed a finger over his lips to stop him right in his tracks.

“Don't say a word,” she whispered right into his face, and his eyes widened at the sound of her voice.

“I—” he sputtered, and he could hardly think much less speak. “I—” He gestured at the waist of his pants.

He was growing so hard, so hard in fact that he was about to lose it if he never took them off. Jay then kindly nodded, and she reached down to the button and the zipper and helped him out with it. Once he was broken free, she helped him onto his hands and knees again, and that time he could relax his muscles as well as his nearly full erection.

He kept his head bowed as she reached for something else.

“Here—stay right where you are,” she beckoned him.

He held still there on his hands and knees, and he thought of looking up at her to see what she was doing, but he needn't risk it. He needn't ruin the surprise that she had in store for him.

But then he felt the leather slide down the backs of his thighs, down to his knees. He glanced down underneath his body to see himself, nearly fully erect and hard, and he couldn't help but wonder as to where else she was taking him. He couldn't help but wonder about it as something brushed against the back of his thigh followed by his ass.

“What is that,” he flatly said, and he finally took a glimpse over his shoulder to see the long black bit of silicone strapped onto her waist. “Christ on a bike,” was all he could muster.

“Hold still,” Jay ordered him, and she held onto his hips so as to steady herself. A part of him wanted to tell her that he was unsure of having something shoved up his ass, but he stopped those thoughts right in their tracks once she inserted the tip inside.

It felt so wrong and so right at the same time.

It was something that left him confused and yet he never wanted to stop the feeling of the silicone on that delicate stripe of skin. He opened his mouth and let his tongue hang out as far as he could let it go like the filthy dog he was. For a brief moment, he had all but forgotten that Jay was a woman, but then he could feel her body rested upon his back, and her breasts were unmistakable.

While his knees had done the quivering, it was his elbows that finally gave out, and he fell onto his shoulder and onto his back once again. He could feel the rush between his legs, and once again, much to Jay's amusement. She lay down next to him, still with the strap-on wrapped around her waist so the tip would brush against his hip.

“God, that was... what even was that, that was... that...” He could barely speak, and she pressed her lips to the side of his face.

“That... gave me a feeling I can't explain,” he breathed out.

“But, did you like it, though?” she asked him with a light stroke of his chest.

“Like?” he repeated. “I would feel that over and over again for the rest of my life if given the choice.”

“Blame Q for that,” she whispered into his ear, to which she followed up with a kiss on the rim and the running of her tongue on the side of his face. “Speaking of, I should probably let her in now.”

“Keep the tape on,” he told her in a very low tone of voice.

“As long as you keep the pants on,” she retorted, but he knew there was no way they could properly fit him again after all of that.

[hornystorage]

Reconditioning (Part 4)

[Originally posted by rubberpupthoughts. Re-posted for archival purposes.]

(Two boy get trapped in an abandoned asylum, known for the perverted spirits that come to life at night. Connor goes through pup training in Part 3. Ash’s story continues here.)

Ash was not only the youngest in his group of friends, but at late bloomer. His friends always teased him, and Ash tried hard to act like a man. That’s why he whipped out his dick when the others made a bet who could cum farthest. That was a mistake. His pubic hair had barely come in, and he was too shy to get hard in front of his friends. So he didn’t cum at all. Instant loss. Connor “came” in second-to-last because his cock fired prematurely. Ash was embarrassed, but he remembered how defeated Connor looked when his cock weakly dribbled its load.

Ash followed Connor into the abandoned asylum for the same reason he entered the bet. He didn’t want to be seen as a baby. When Ash was in high school, he often wet the bed. His parents forced him to wear nighttime briefs until he moved out. A few of his friends knew.

Ash still had nightmares about waking up wet. He could feel the warm sensation spreading, like he did now. Wait. Was he dreaming? Now?

Ash woke up with a groan. The last thing he remembered was running down a rubble-scattered hallway in the asylum. Connor was trying to put a straitjacket on him. No, he succeeded. Only, it wasn’t Connor. It was as if the straitjacket came to life and wrapped itself around him.

Ash opened his eyes. He was looking at a grimey ceiler, where a mirror was mounted. Ash tried to move, but found he was still in the straitjacket. His legs were strapped down to some sort of bed, too. He tried to talk, but was muffled by a large rubber gag. The gag had a thin tube attached, which dangled up to an IV bag. The gag force fed him a salty liquid, one drip at a time.

The boy could only remember running down the hallway, trying to escape. He must have tripped and knocked himself out. Ash began to panic and thrash against his bindings.

The door to the room creaked open.

Ash looked over to see a young man enter the room. The man reminded Ash of his older brother.

“Hey little bro. You’re up,” the man said. He walked over and patted Ash’s crotch. Ash had almost forgot he wet his pants. Except, he didn’t feel the man touch his pants. His hand patted against a thick diaper bulge.

Ash was wearing a diaper.

“Wow, still dry. Good job, little bro!” The man said. He walked across the room, out of Ash’s limited view. “I’m surprised you lasted this long. The serum usually takes effect instantly.”

Ash looked up to the IV bag, tasting the salty mixture on his tongue. He heard the man flick a small metal switch, and the mirror above him filled with light. The mirror reflected a monitor across the room. The ancient tube TV flashed with static for a few moments. When it settled, Ash could make out black-and-white cartoons.

“There. I found your favorite show.”

Ash didn’t recognize the cartoons. But he was enthralled by them. They looked old, for sure. The style was edgy, even a little sloppy. Though they appeared harmless at first glance, Ash could not help but feel something sinister lurking just beneath. He felt fear building in side him. His ears felt hot as they filled with the sound of static. Ash felt another sensation building. The need to pee.

The boy closed his eyes and bucked in bed, trying to resist the urge. He felt the man’s hands on his chest.

“It’s OK, little bro. You’re safe with me.”

Ash melted. His fear wiped away, and he relaxed on the bed. He felt almost sleepy now, and distant.

“There. Now let go. I’ll protect you.”

The words wrapped around Ash like a warm sensation. He felt the soothing warmth, especially around his groin.

Ash knew he was wetting himself. But for the moment he felt distant from his body. He held back tears, feeling both comforted by his “brother” and “humiliated” by the loss of control.

“Oh, did somebody go potty?” The man patted Ash’s wet diaper. He grabbed the bulge firmly, and Ash felt himself getting hard.

“Good. From now on, you will no longer be able to control when you pee. I know that sounds scary, but your big brother has your back. I will send you home with enough diapers for tomorrow. But I suggest you stock up. Otherwise, you’ll wet your pants in front of your friends.”

Ash whimpered. He felt himself close to the edge of an orgasm. The man let go of his diaper.

“It’s cute that you want to cum like a big boy,” the man said. “You still have some training left. These cartoons will teach you to submit to any boy that’s older than you. You will do whatever they say, including sex.”

Ash tried to shake his head. But when the man grabbed his diapered bulge again, the boy was whimpering.

“You already enjoy it, little bro. This will just make it impossible to deny. There will be one side-effect of the treatment. You won’t be able jerk yourself off.”

Ash was swimming in arousal, but the statement brought him back to reality.

“Your dick will match the little boy you are. You might have wet dreams from time to time. But it’ll never feel the same.”

The man groped Ash again, then slowly removed the boy’s gag. “But I suppose I could help you cum like a big boy one last time, before the serum takes full effect. If you ask your ‘big bro’ nicely.”

When the gag popped out of Ash’s mouth, all the boy could say was “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please let me cum… big bro.”

The man grinned. He rubbed Ash’s padded dick a few more times. Ash bucked against his restraints, this time from an orgasm. He felt his small, slimy load of cum against the wet diaper. The last load he would shoot while awake.

“Good. Now you’re ready for more cartoons.”

[divinekangaroo]

weirdest Tommy dream ever (don’t normally dream characters so also first and hopefully only):

He escapes an office building with the help of someone mysterious who gives him a suitcase; see none of this but the building in the background and the suitcase and know. He’s wearing a straitjacket. He has to escape-artist his way out of the straitjacket, all that wrenching and heaving ensues in a public park. He hides under a bush during so ppl don’t think he’s busking. How did he carry the suitcase? Mind-camera-view does that thing where a bus drives by, obscuring him, and when it drives on what is left is a group of dark-haired girls and a momentary confusion: is one of them him? Was there a disguise in the suitcase? No, he’s sprinting down the busy street wearing an undervest, striped faded pants, dirty with old sweat, no shoes, carrying the suitcase. Finds some shitty bedsit room to hide. After some agonising and gasping, opens the suitcase. He is immediately attacked. During the fight, his huge, sweaty, raucously-laughing assailant stabs him in the eye with a fountain pen. In his office in his full tweed suit in his chair, he pulls out the pen calmly and places it on his desk. The eye seeps ink. The assailant pulls him from the desk back into the bedsit and his disarray. Face down on the filthy floor, arms up behind his back like a policeman about to cuff him; the assailant holds him easily one-handed and takes drug paraphernalia from the suitcase and injects him with something clear.

After a while, Tommy gets up reeling and staggers into another room where a scrawny man and scrawny woman are waiting at a table for him; one of those ‘interview’ lamps swings overhead. Furious and mocking, they insist he sits to dinner but all there is: many shot glasses filled with something clear. He sits, the camera spins. He’s covered in blood and sweat and tears, except from the raw, empty eye-socket; from that eye socket, black ink has spilled and created a clown’s tear, of the sort more like an inverted triangle, the full length of the eye and tapering to a sharp point halfway down the cheek, at the scar Sabini left him.

They provoke him to eat with the raucous insensibility of the Businessmen at that table in the final scene of Requiem for a Dream (ass to ass!). He can’t stop dry-weeping. He gives in, he picks up a glass. His hand wavers, confused; for a moment it looks as if he’ll put the shotglass to his eye socket to drink through the wound. When the glass passes in front of that socket, an eye can be seen through it, restored, but the iris is filled with something clear. He drinks. Next they insist he does a magic trick. He shakes his head, he drops his head, he can’t. Their insistence grows. He drinks. The camera blurs in and out. They drum the table. They shout. He can’t. It’s a room full of people but it’s only two. He can’t. He drinks. Despairing, he throws up a hand and pulls a gun to him from the opposite wall through the power of the mind. He laugh-weeps ink. They laugh; see? See? Why didn’t you do that all along? But it’s not a gun: in his hand it’s a red tube of pawpaw moisturiser. They tell him he should take better care of himself. He smashes his head into the table full of glasses.

And he fights with the scrawny woman on top of a pile of logged trees, trying to avoid her but unable to turn his back; then he’s on his back, propped on hands, and he and her move back and forth, lunging in that fight on the uneven logs in a manner reminiscent of contemporary dance or Jackie Chan.

Through the entire dream, two middle register adjacent piano notes play repeatedly with two other piano notes striking random and infrequent discordance, one in the upper register and one in the lower. Through the entire dream, a sense of irrational worry: he left the new puppy alone in a closed room and no one knows. He can’t die or it’ll starve.

[persoc30]

Kinktober Day 7 - Armbinder / Straitjacket

(Follows from Here)

With almost uncharacteristic eagerness Shining picked the next piece of gear up off their bed and held it up for inspection. It was a bulky white leather straitjacket, a recent acquisition she and Liz hadn’t had the chance to put their favorite sub in yet. They’d picked it from a small Leithanien shop other operators swore by when a mission took them nearby, and they’d both been desperate to get the opportunity to use it.

From the integrated collar one strap ran down the jackets front, broken in the middle by a loose buckle before continuing near the bottom, and another two each ran down a shoulder and down an arm. Once at the wrists those straps connected to integrated cuffs, below which each sleeve terminated in a large pocket. D-rings were placed strategically on each of those straps and the collar. Despite the thickness of the leather and padding it was even heavier than it looked, thanks to weights sewn into the seams on the back and tips of the sleeves. Finally they’d picked one slightly oversized, in accordance with Liz’ belief that the bulkier the restraints the cuter the sub locked in them looked.

Shining had stayed up late last night while Liz kept Marge distracted, cleaning and conditioning the leather, putting more care than was strictly necessary into it almost as a ritual to prepare for its first use.

She gathered the jacket in her arms and turned back to her mistress, who was currently amusing herself by… puppeting the kneeling dolls useless hands into rubbing and grinding her inner thighs and crotch. She sat with her eyes closed, clearly just enjoying the feeling of the leather on her sensitive skin and through her soft leotard.

The maid cleared her throat. “Ahem, mistress I’m ready to put the final pieces on your toy.”

Liz gave a soft sigh and slowly opened her eyes. “Just putting them to use while its got them.” Nevertheless she let the dolls arms droop and maneuvered her chair back to give her maid room to work.

-

The dolls hands hung limply at its side as it waited patiently for whatever came next. It had enjoyed its mistress controlling it, enjoyed being useful for her. But soon it felt one arm lifted and something slid down its length. That something soon covered its arm up to the shoulder, and a heavy weight fell on its lap. The process was repeated with the other arm and the mass on its lap moved up to spread between its arms and cover its front. Hands then brushed against its shoulders and whatever it was was pulled tight across its front and left hanging loose on its back. This was new, some kind of full body covering, a straitjacket? It had never worn one before but had seen them at parties.

 The doll was torn from its thoughts as the garment was shaken out around it, roughly jerking it up and down a few times in the process. It felt the slight vibrations of a zipper being pulled tight and the jacket closed up around its back, sealing its arms and torso in another layer. Probably another layer over its hands and neck too, though it couldn’t feel those as easily through what was already there.

Now that it was closed this jacket was quickly becoming a favorite of the dolls. It held its body gently but firmly, spreading a comfortable weight over its torso. The tightness increased slowly up its body in steps, the doll pictured a series of straps being drawn tight across its back. Its arms were positioned crossed across its stomach and around its sides, and the sleeves were drawn tighter a moment later.

Just as the doll was settling in to enjoy its new bondage, it felt a foot on its chest firmly pushing it back. It complied and fell onto its back, legs still bent above it. The pressure still on its chest, another pair of straps were connected on either side of its groin, digging slightly into its thighs. Finally its torso was lifted slightly against the foot’s force, before a final strap lashed its forearms together.

-

With her foot still on the dolls chest, Shining turned back to her mistress and gave a small bow.

Nightingale gave a small clap and smile at her maid’s performance. “I appreciated the flourish at the end!”

 As the maid stepped back she wheeled forward and drank in the sight of her doll in its new jacket. The built in collar sitting on top of its neck corset hinting at the layers at play. The way the thick leather enhanced her toys curves by exaggerating and obscuring them. The sleeves bulking out the shoulders and arms only to be squeezed tight by the stomach strap.

It was so cute, laying there helpless in its bulky restraints, she couldn’t wait to get it into her bed, to wrap her arms around it and feel them sink into the leather.