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valos-venus-doom · 22 days

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In Our Diabolikal Rapture [a VV one-shot]

POV: You're on vacation in Lapland with Ville and a particularly heavy snowstorm has you snowed into your cabin

Requested by @reneetje ❤️

NSFW

The wind was so intense it was causing the windows of the cabin to rattle. It was day 3 of a snowstorm that kept you and Ville stuck inside your Air B&B in Rovaniemi, and Ville was pissed. He had so many plans for you both on this week-long break he was taking from work and so far most of his plans had been foiled by the unexpected snow squall. It least 2 feet of snow had fallen and Ville was occasionally popping out to smoke a cigarette and shovel it away from the walkway. But you knew he was going out there to grumble and cuss his disappointment out away from you. Ville was frustrated, but he didn’t want to rub off on you. He was still trying his best to make it a fun experience, knowing full well he’d be off to the grind in just a matter of days.

The door opened up and Ville stumbled in, quickly shutting the door behind him and taking off his outdoor gear.

You smiled at his frustration, “Babe, I honestly don’t know what you expected. It’s January in the arctic circle, of course its snowing.”

He side-eyed you as he kicked off his snow covered boots, “Shut up.” he muttered playfully. “And this isn’t snow. It’s fine if it snowed, it’s allowed to snow. In fact, I’ve *love* for it to snow. This? This is 315 tons of white bullshit. Not snow.”

“That… is an oddly specific number.” you blinked at him.

“2 feet of snow out there. 20 pounds of snow per square foot. Rovaneimi is 2,927 square meters. That’s 629,890 pounds of snow, or about 315 tons. Quick mental math.”

“Remind me why you dropped out of school again?” you giggled.

Ville had stripped down to his sleek black thermal pants and undershirt, both form fitting and framing his body just right and he sauntered over to the fireplace, throwing another two logs in to keep the fire roaring for you. “So, we’re done watching Breaking Bad. What else is on Netflix that we can binge until mother nature decides to stop being a cunt?” he plopped down on the couch beside you, lifting his arm to summon you so snuggle up against him.

You did just that, pulling the fluffy blanket you had over you over his lap too. “Ohh… I dunno. Do you want to check out–”

You were cut off by the electricity going out.

“You have GOT to be fucking kidding me.” Ville closed his eyes in utter frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s fine.” you assured him. “It’s not going to last forever, I’m sure it’ll be back on soon.”

“I admire your optimism.” Ville grumbled. “I swear to fucking god I’m getting a partial refund.”

You laughed, “You’re going to ask Air B&B for a refund… because it snowed? Okay, Karen.”

Ville smirked, he knew he was being dramatic but he couldn’t help it. "I just want to make sure you’re having fun, that’s all. We only have four more days until we have to go back.”

“I can tell you a way we can have some fun.” you whisper, leaning in for a kiss. Your hand slowly dragging from his knee to the bulge in his tight thermal pants that left very little to the imagination.

“Mmm..” he moaned into the kiss as you lightly touched him, coaxing him into an erection. You pulled back from the kiss just to watch the look of bliss on his face, illuminated only by the firelight in front of you both.

His eyes flicked open for a moment so he could peel his shirt off and you followed suit. You had no bra underneath, you were left in just your panties. The cabin was getting chilly with the electricity being off, and you stood to throw the blanket you’d been using onto the floor between the couch and fireplace and quickly sat down. Ville smiled and slinked down off the couch to join you, placing himself on top of you between your legs.

Ville kissed you deeply as he wiggled out of his pants down to his boxers. He slowly and rhythmically rolled his hips, grinding his hard erection against your panties making you moan into his kiss. You loved when he dry humped you like this, it was flirty. It reminded you of messing around as a teen together and caused you to get even more wet.

“God you’re fucking beautiful.” he breathed against the skin of your neck, leaving little kisses under your ear. His hand traveled south, rubbing against your clothed mound. You rolled your hips against his hand, eager for him to touch you, and he quickly complied. You were soaking wet, making Ville chuckle. “Someone’s excited. I’ll bet you want me deep inside you, hm?” he purred in your ear, causing you to shiver. The baritone in his voice was practically orgasmic by itself.

“God yes, please.” you replied breathlessly.

Ville continued to kiss and nip at your neck as he got out of his boxers and began helping you remove your panties. “Lay back, let me take care of you.” he coaxed.

You laid down flat on your back, the blanket warmed from the fire closeby. “Spread your legs for me, there you go…” he continued, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as he kissed down your belly until he reached his destination. He kissed you gently, right over your clit causing it to throb with desire.

You felt his tongue drag delicately over your slit, still teasing and driving you mad. You moaned in agonizing anticipation, you wanted him to ravish you, but he was taking his time. Ville knew your ticks, he knew just how to keep you on the edge of climax the entire time so that when he finally pushed you over the finish line it would be explosive.

Deeper his tongue went, and your body was electrified. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he licked and kissed every part of you. Quickly flicking his tongue repeatedly over your clit your legs began to tremble and stiffen.

“Ffffuck…” you groaned, your orgasm creeping up on you.

His mouth enveloped you, like he was taking a bite out of the juiciest fruit and he wanted every drop of its sweet nectar. It was like he was making out with your pussy and it drove you crazy.

“God please just give it to me.” you groaned.

“Well I do love when you call me God...” he muttered egotistically, biting his lip and placing his tip at the entrance of you, but not before rubbing it gently over your swollen clit, causing your hips to buck with painful wanting. “Look at me.” he instructed, and you immediately obeyed, willing to do anything to feel him inside you. “Good girl.” he praised before slowly entering you. “I just wanted to see those pretty eyes as I slid my cock in.” he smirked, groaning as he pushed as deep as he could. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it.”

“How bad?”

You didn’t answer, you just whined wanting to to be fucked hard. Ville grinned, knowing he was winning whatever competition he had with himself in his head.

Throwing both your legs over his shoulders he began rhythmically thrusting, you could both hear just how wet you were, and you could feel how rock solid he’d become from all of the foreplay. He couldn’t help but stare at your face, mouth agape as he slowly fucked you. Taking care to thrust right up against your spot, the one he had memorized that would take you just to the edge of orgasm before he’d back off, building the burning desire within you both. He edged you multiple times until it became too much, you removed your legs from over his shoulders to around his waist, locking your feet behind his back. You wanted him deep and hard and you wanted to cum all over him.

Ville grunted as confirmation that the message was received. He began thrusting harder and deeper, picking up the pace. At the point, the only sounds aside from your load moans was the crackling fire and the sound of your bodies slapping against each other and echoing off the walls.

Ville’s eyes were shut tight, breathing through clenched teeth as he methodically pushed you towards your climax while trying to keep his at bay. He was never particularly vocal, but the occasional slip of a delicate, agonized moan from him suddenly propelled you over the edge. Your legs stiffened and locked around his lower back, as your pussy vice-gripped around his dick. “God yes. Please don’t– don’t stop.” wave after wave of rapture coursed over your body. “Fuck! Oh my god, Ville, yes!” you screamed as your orgasm rippled through your entire body.

“Oh… oh fuck.” Ville grunted as his hips twitched, “I’m cumming. Fuck, I’m cumming.” his eyes shut tight, mouth agape, a single strangled moan escaped him as he filled you. His chest heaved and body shivered as he came down from the high and rolled off of you to the warm blanket. Lying flat on his back he regulated his breathing and you rolled into him, head lying on his chest. You could hear his heart pounding.

“I love you.” he breathed.

“I love you too.” you replied sleepily, your voice raspy from screaming.

“Our neighbors probably heard you.” he chuckled. “It’s just as well, they should know Ville Valo knows how to fuck properly.”

You rolled your eyes, “Of course you’d say something dumb like that.”

“Shall I grab the pillows and blankets from the bed? Make up a little nest here in front of the fire for us to sleep in?” Ville suggested. You nodded happily, staring into the fire. “And then round two?” he asked with a smile, kissing the top of your head. You nod even more enthusiastically, making him laugh. “Your wish is my command.” he kissed the top of your head once more before getting up, still naked.

Before he could pull his clothes back on, the lights flickered and turned back on.

“See? I told you it wouldn’t be long.” you teased.

#ville valo #vv #ville valo fan fic #neon noir #ville valo fan fiction #him #h.i.m #heartagram #his infernal majesty #love metal

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4rtificialfolio · 8 months

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i wasn’t going to say anything about the vip but its all over omens tumblr🥴 so here’s my take:

1. it’s perfectly ok for people to be upset and a bit pissed off. They paid for an individual pic, signed poster & a mask (early access comes with any vip) and now they’re not getting what they paid for.

2. people are more upset about how it was handled. legally, veeps would’ve had to send the email anyway bc they’re required to notify paying customers of any changes so people would’ve found out through them first anyways BUT but the band themselves still could’ve put out a statement explaining WHY. Yes they don’t owe anyone anything and no one is entitled to meet them but when you offer a paid service then take away the main part of what people paid for, at the very least give an explanation.

3. people are also upset that it was taken away with no explanation and whilst they’re offering full refunds, there should either be A) a partial refund because im sorry but paying €80+ for something to have part of it taken away and not replaced is not fair. or B) replace the individual pics they took away with a group q&a and/or group pic like the last eu tour. i don’t think its fair to offer something at one price, take way the main thing people paid for and still expect them to be ok with having paid the full price.

4. the most likely reason is because noah got sick on the US tour. This was probably the best solution they could come up with seeing as VIP was already sold out so it’s not like they could significantly reduce the numbers for VIP when people have already bought it. stop blaming people’s “behaviour” for the cancellation. Are you all forgetting noah saying that they will say if they’re all uncomfortable with anything??? its not fair to take a select fee incidents and put all the blame on the fans. they were doing 100+ vips in an hour for every show, it was too much and noah got sick. its frustrating the band themselves haven’t come out and confirmed why they made the decision but my god stop blaming each other. maybe in the future they’ll do smaller distanced VIP’s, you never know.

5. the majority of people have been pretty rational and understanding, they’re just upset and rightfully so. there’s ALWAYS a handful of people in any fandom who will over react, taking those and making out to seem like that’s everyone’s reaction and invalidating how everyone else feels is so unfair. people are ALLOWED to be upset, don’t act like the majority are being unfair

6. ONE person said they were gonna cover their tattoo and only a FEW people said they were gonna sell their merch. You all saw one or two people talking about it, ran with it then made it out as if it was the majority. Yes i think covering a tat and selling ur merch is dramatic but each to their own idc. not a single one of you thought to look up the source of these claims YET AGAIN.

Overall everyone needs to calm down; stop fighting eachother, stop putting the blame on fans and stop invalidating how people feel

oh and remember to check your sources before you spread things like wildfire.

#bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio

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lostelfwriting · 11 months

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angst prompts: dream is physically assaulted or roofied (your choice on how far it gets) in the new inn and hob finds out later, after the fact

Thank you for giving me permission to do what I do best! :D This gonna be dark and very much Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, so everyone please curate your own internet experience!

Btw, I'm still accepting prompts!

TW: noncon, self-harm by proxy, mentioned vomiting

Other notables: Human AU, they are in their 40's, now proofread and uploaded to AO3!

****************************

Morpheus sat at his usual table in the corner of the New Inn and watched Hob work. Every time Hob laughed with a customer or grinned at a colleague or his eyes sparkled as he pulled off a defty trick while mixing cocktails, Morpheus's heart lurched. He was still, even after all those years, very much in love with his childhood friend.

He kept those feelings safely under the lid even though he knew that Hob may eventually feel the same about him, if given time, and he would not be opposed to finding out together. But because what was between them was still fragile, Morpheus decided to wait. Another year or two and they could try again. He had learned from his mistakes. He had come back to Hob. He had apologised. All that work couldn't be thrown away for the sake of his greed. He could wait, and if eventually Hob began to feel the same about him, they could finally be together, as they were meant to be from the start.

As if pulled towards him the same way Dream was pulled towards Hob, the pub owner basically danced towards his table with a colourful drink. Dream preferred whiskey on ice over sweet drinks, and Hob knew that, so he frowned in confusion even as he pretended to be working. That was his excuse to come here almost every night – he was working, using the white noise of a public place to help him focus. His notepad, however, lay untouched for hours most nights as he allowed himself to stare and fantasize.

"A nice gentleman bought this for you, said you have very nice eyes," Hob winked at him as he placed the drink down in front of Morpheus.

"I am not interested," Dream said flatly. "And I don't like cocktails. You know that, both of it."

"I know," Hob said, his way too excited grin softening as he schooled his erratic mood. "I couldn't turn him down on your behalf, but you don't have to drink it. I can give him a partial refund if he's too butthurt about it. But you know, isn't it nice that you got bought a drink?"

Dream had no idea what was nice about it. He didn't suffer self-doubt about his attractivity or his ability to get a partner if he wanted to, even though he was not in his twenties (or thirties) anymore. The man who bought him the drink, who kept stealing glances at him now that the drink was delivered, was young, could as well be Hob's student. Dream cringed at the idea of being pursued because of his age instead of in spite of it. But maybe he understood what Hob meant.

"I suppose," he admitted with a sigh. "I should probably politely turn him down and…" He wondered what the right thing to do clould be. What would Lucienne do? "Offer to buy him a drink in turn? The one with Lucky in the name, so he has better luck next time?" He smirked sarcastically.

Hob laughed and shook his head, his eyes fond when he looked at Dream again. "Sure, you do that. I gotta go back, but if you need anything, give me a shout." And with that he was gone again.

Sighing again, Dream eyed the cocktail varily. At the end of the day, it was one of Hob's creations – cocktail nights at the pub were his idea, after all – so he could at least give it a try and give his friend feedback. He glanced at his work but decided that he had done enough for today – he had filled five lines of the notepad in total, though soome of them with only a single cipher or letter – and put it away. Lifting his gaze, he caught the eye of the man who bought him the drink and he raised the glass into the air in a mock toast before he took a sip. The young man smiled in a way that would probably be seductive and sexy if Dream was interested in him at all. To his disappointment, it didn't end at that and the man stood up from his chair and walked ower to him.

"Hi," he said with another vaguely seductive smirk. "So, what do you think? It is one of my favourites here." To Dream's barely concealed dismay, he sat down. Only the fact that he wanted to be on his best behaviour for Hob, especially at his pub, kept Dream from shooing him away rudely. He could try to make polite conversation. Matthew would be proud.

"I am not a fan of cocktails. However, this one is nicely balanced. Not too sweet and not too bitter." It was a compliment to Hob's skill, but the man took it as if Dream was complimenting him. "I prefer whiskey," he added as he put the unfinished drink down.

"Oh, same, actually," the man laughed, raising his glass that he brought with himself and sloshing the amber liquid around. "So, what is your name?"

Dream attempted to sigh subtly, but it was probably still noticeable. "That is not important," he brushed it off, giving up on the polite part of polite conversation. From up close, the man couldn't be older than twenty-two, twenty-three, but was probably younger than that. "I appreciate the gesture but I am not interested."

To his surprise, the man took it well, with only a small disappointed shrug. "Aw, sucks," he shrugged again. "Well, at least I gave it a try. So, now that that is out of the way, can I buy you a drink as an apology for this?" he gesticulated between them.

"There is no need," Morpheus assured. He was surprised by the younger man's mature reaction. He did not expect that, but perhaps that was prejudice. "I am not offended. It is just that I really have no interest in… anything."

The man chuckled. "I get it, I really do. But still, can I? I'll get my favourite whiskey for us and you can tell me if it's good or not. My friends hate it, but I'm pretty sure it's the finest you can get here."

Well, if that was what it took to get rid of the man, Dream could do it. He nodded and watched the man basically bolt out of his chair in excitement. He tried to remember if he had ever been like that aroud people that he was interested in and… Oh no, he definitely had.

The whiskey was fine. Ha has had it many times, sharing it with Hob. He gave his opinion on the beverage and chatted to the young man for another minute, but as soon as he tried to steer the conversation away from alcohol, Dream stopped him with a raised hand. "I am not interested in a conversation," he said bluntly, aware that he was coming off as arrogant. "Thank you again for the drink."

"Sure," the man said, looking disappointed. One more expressive shrug and he was finally gone. Dream sighed in relief and picked up the glass. He had only taken one sip with the man, but now he could enjoy it while reminiscing about the times he had drank here with Hob.

The glass was empty soon, and Dream relaxed into his chair for a second. But then he noticed it. A buzz, bluriness, and not from the alcohol. Different, strange, something he had never felt before and yet knew exactly what it was.

Fuck.

It was getting worse fast, and Dream grabbed his bag without thinking, heading for the door while he still could. Hob wouldn't be mad that he had left without saying goodbye – it had happened before. What would definitely make Hob angry, though, was if Dream got roofied at his pub. People would notice even if he tried to be subtle about telling his friend. Hob would have to throw the young guy out and people would film the conflict and the pub would get a bad name. Hob would blame him. No, he couldn't allow that, he had only just gotten Hob back, gotten his life back on track and could finally pursue his happiness. This wasn't worth the risk, he could and would deal with it on his own.

The cold air helped for a bit. Morpheus breathed deeply and kept a swift pace even as his sense of balance, direction and purpose began to leave him. Where was he going? Didn't there use to be a path? How much did he drink again?

"Hey, mate, are you alright? I'll help you get home, okay?"

The voice was familiar. The face, although blurry, was familiar. Young man, could be a student. His hands were wrong on Dream's arm and way too strong. Dream's brain screamed danger but his body grew more and more limp, compliant with the steering touch. He did not remember much after that.

****************************

Dream woke up and fell asleep again multiple times. Even when the drug left his system, even when the headache passed, even when he started noticing all the discomforts of sleeping in the, fuck, tall grass who knows where, he did not open his eyes. He wished to sleep, so he slept.

But eventually, the sky turned bright and he knew that if he stayed any longer, people would find him. People would see him. As long as he kept his eyes closed, reality was just a dream, but if people saw they would make it real. He forced his eyes open and forced his body to move, to pull up his pants, straighten his shirt, check his bag that had been lodged under his hips for his keys and wallet. Everything was in its place. There was an ache deep inside of him unlike anything he had ever experienced even with unexperienced or rough partners. He got up and walked.

By some miracle, or perhaps thanks to muscle memory, Morpheus arrived to his apartment. He closed the door, locked it, and he didn't emerge for a week. At the end of the first day, his phone ran out of battery in the middle of the twenty-eight frantic call from his employees. The doorbell was disconnected with a vicious tug at the wires that powered it on the dawn of the second day. At some point, he killed the electricity in the whole house by running the tea kettle, toaster, and microwave at the same time, and he didn't bother to fix it.

When it was more than a week since he last visited the New Inn but less than two weeks, Morpheus emerged from his house dressed in his usual work clothes and headed to work. He answered no questions, worked until all work was done, and then headed home. The fuses still weren't fixed. The house was smothering hot thanks to the record-breaking summer heats, and empty, and dead, and he couldn't. So, he turned around and walked until he found a bar. He drank until he became brave. He found a man who was interested in finding out exactly how brave he was, how long until he would cry. He returned home early in the morning and felt a little better.

************************************

Somehow, time became meaningless while it also meant everything. It was more than three weeks and less than five. Numbers. There had been more than twenty men, some repeatedly, often more than one in a night and sometimes none as he collapsed in his hallway at home and slept until it was time to work again. Except for talking to these men, he had spoken only sixteen words out loud, none of them to his colleagues, only to a pharmacist and to Hob.

"I am having a rough time. I do not wish to talk." Twelve words. He looked pathetic but just alright enough when he said them that Hob accepted them. Every day, he reminded Dream that he was tere if he wanted to talk but he didn't have to. Hob was glad that he chose to come to him, if only for a while. Only until the clubs that Morpheus frequented became busy and he could go in search of the next scumbag that he would let take advantage of him.

Every time he staggered home with an ache in his ass, he felt a little more alright.

So why wasn't he okay yet?

Morpheus began to worry that he would never be alright, but he couldn't allow that. No, if he just found the right formula, he could fix it all. He could come back to Hob whole again and give him all the love tha he had been harbouring for him for so many years.

Hob.

Hob had been there that night.

Perhaps…

***********

The smile on Hob's face when Dream spoke for the first time in weeks chipped away a bit of the hollowness and hurt that Morpheus carried. Not nearly enough, but it was a hint that Hob was the one who could fix him. He was certain of it. It had to be true. It had to. Because if not Hob, then there was nobody left, and whatever broke loose that night would remain broken forever, and then he would not be able to give all his love to Hob. It had to work.

Dream refused to talk about what happened and Hob didn't pry. They talked about Hob's plans for Halloween. It was far away, but he was full of ideas. The summer was over but the New Inn kept many of the people who used to frequent it for its cocktails in the warmest months of the year. Business was great. Dream ordered a celebratory bottle and drank all of it alone and then some.

Hob was angry when he closed down half an hour early, dragging an uncooperative Morpheus up the stairs to his flat. Dream mentally patted himself on the back because his plan worked. Hob would fix him like none of those strange men could. His stomach twisted and he threw up as soon as he found himself in Hob's bathroom, but then he was able to clean his mouth with Hob's mouth wash and strip his clothes, leaving them behind. Hob was nowhere to be seen but that was okay. Dream knew where his place was by now, having been told almost every night by strange men with rough hands.

"Jesus fucking Christ, pants!" Hob swore when Dream was halfway to his bed. He would be on his hands and knees in the middle of it by now if the world could stop spinning for five damn seconds. He turned towards Hob and frowned at the furious expression on his friend's face. But no, wait, that was okay. That was what he needed. It was what would fix him.

Sauntering over to Hob, Dream fell to his knees gracelessly, older bruises on his knees being renewed. Before he could open his mouth, Hob was pulling him roughly back to his feet. "No no no, you are not sleeping on the floor, come on!"

He misunderstood. Dream tried to explain, and his friend's rage grew, yet his touches remained gentle as he guided Dream to the couch in the living room. There was a bucket next to it and a glass of water on the coffee table next to two pills.

Dream knew what to do, having done that multiple times in the past weeks. He put the pills in his mouth, chewed once or twice, and swallowed. Hob gaped at him.

"What the fuck, Dream?! Those were for the undoubteldy awful and well deserved headache you'll have in the morning."

The words made no sense, especially since the next thing that Hob did was push Morpheus down on the couch and hold him down when he tried to sit up again and entice Hob to finally do what he undoubtedly wanted to do, what all men wanted to do to Dream.

"Close your fucking eyes, idiot!" Hob growled, and there it was. Dream complied even as his whole body shivered. As soon as his eyes fell shut, the world stopped spinning so much. He fell asleep almost instantly, dragged down by the alcohol.

******************

For the first time in a very long time, Dream woke up with no new ache between his legs. As always, he chose to drift for as long as he could, keeping his eyes closed, existing in a dream-world that was real and warm and pleasantly empty and away from the nightmare-reality that was full of hurt. Occassionally, there would be footsteps and huffs and sighs but nothing that would pull him out of his peaceful place.

When he was ready to collect the pieces of himself, Dream opened his eyes and blinked in confusion at a glass of water, a pitcher, and two pills of aspirin. He didn't usually do that; he never had the presence of mind to plan for the morning after. He took it, nevertheless, drinking until the pitcher was almost empty.

"Well, look who is awake at two in the afternoon."

Hob.

All pieces fit together and Dream realised where he was. He wasn't at home. He wasn't even in bed. He was on a couch; there was a bucket vaguely smelling of puke next to him; and he was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that definitely didn't belong to him.

And he wasn't hurt.

Frowning in confusion, he looked at his friend and asked: "What happened?"

Hob scoffed, and his face was not friendly, not fond, not amused. He was angry. Something in Dream shattered at the sight.

"What happened?" he raised his eyebrows at Dream. "From my point of view, you got absolutely shit-face wasted yesterday, couldn't get home on your own, couldn't tell me where you live. I took you here only for you to get naked and try to blow me or something. I thought, you know, we all have our horny drunk stage, right? But—" he cut off, shaking his head and averting his eyes that were suddenly glistening with tears. "But then you started talking. It didn't make sense. But you were asking me to rape you. Not fuck you but rape you. You kept saying that word. What the absolute fuck, Morpheus?!"

Something was telling Dream that he should feel ashamed, but he was only confused and scared. He had screwed up. He should have known Hob wouldn't be interested in helping him. He was a mess. And maybe Hob didn't feel anything towards him anymore and only wanted to be friends, so Dream's attempts to fix himself for him were not appreciated.

"I am sorry," he said numbly, standing up on wavering legs. "I will get out of your hair."

"No!" Hob growled, blocking the door with his stronger, wider body. "I have spent months assuring your friends and family that you're alright, that you're just going through some stuff, probably a depressive episode, and they have believed me! But that was a lie, wasn't it? You aren't alright and it is not depression. What is it, then? Drugs? You chomped down fucking aspirin yesterday."

"It is not drugs," Morpheus said quietly, still confused. Did Hob not know? Everybody had to know, right? Every time he looked in the mirror, he saw it. It was so obvious, the black mass of goo inside of him that covered his organs and bones and joints and his mind.

But he never told Hob. He never told anybody, for that matter. Maybe Hob didn't know. Of course he didn't know.

"I was working on my recovery," he explained. Had he really said the word rape yesterday? He couldn't say it now and didn't remember saying it in the past weeks.

"From what?!" Hob snapped impatiently. Then, as if he had been slapped, he winced, face going pale, mouth slack, his arms, previously crossed over his chest, falling to his sides. "Dream…" he said quietly. "Have you been raped?"

And Dream, grateful that they were finally on the same note, nodded. "Remember the man who bought me a drink?"

Hob blinked. Blinked again. Shook his head. Blinked.

And then he blew up.

"Fucking hell, Dream!" he yelled, his voice taking on a high, hysteric pitch. "Please tell me that you aren't saying that he slipped something in your drink, please!" He was so angry and Dream trembled but took it all with a weary face. "Are you telling me that he roofied you in my pub, raped you, and you just went about your day?! He still comes to this place, Morpheus, he is a regular! Fuck, how many people did he rape?! Why didn't you tell me about it?!"

Dream felt something in his chest crumble. It was a strange feeling, kind of like what dying must have felt like. Like his soul left his body for good. Hob was so angry with him. Hob hated him. And Hob was right – how many were raped because he didn't speak up? All this time he had been selfishly trying to help himself while he should have been doing so much more. Was he realy unfixable? Not just this wound that he carried from that night, from the morning when he woke up in tall grass, but his other flaws, the ones that his friends claimed were getting better. They weren't. He was a selfish, arrogant, greedy prick.

"I have made a mistake," he said, surprised at how quiet his voice was. He could barely hear himself. "Have no fear, Hob Gadling. Nobody will learn that this happened to me at the New Inn, but I will—" He choked on his words. No, he can't report it. He cannot. But that is what he has to do, for Hob, for everyone, right? "Your business will not be de—"

"Shut the hell up!" Hob hollered hysterically. "Shut. The hell. Up! What are you talking about?! I don't give a shit about the inn!"

Dream looked up for a second, not aware that his gaze had fallen to the floor at some point. There were tear streaks on Hob's face. He was red from the screaming but looked more sad than angry. His hair was messed up from hands running through it. For a second, Dream let himself remember the times many years ago when his fingers ran through those hair. But that was gone.

"I tried to protect you," he said lamely. Then he shook his head, gathering himself. He needed to leave. Hob would ask him to leave soon, Dream was damaged and filthy and bad for Hob's business. He should leave London. He should leave Britain. He should leave.

"Protecting—?!" Hob gasped angrily, but then he deflated. "Dream?" he asked almost softly, almost. Dream didn't deserve even that.

When hands landed on his shoulders and began to steer him towards the couch, he jostled so hard he almost elbowed Hob. It was too familiar, too wrong. But Hob soothed him and continued to herd him to the couch until Dream was sitting, staring numbly at the coffee table.

Hob took several deep breaths. It sounded like he was just a step away from hyperventilating. But he got a hold on himself. "Okay, so…" He took another deep breath. "I am sorry. First of all, I am sorry for how I just reacted. That was wrong. All of what I said was wrong. I was in shock. Am in shock. But that doesn't matter. Or maybe it does, but the point is? Dream, I am not mad at you, it was not your fault, and you don't have to do anything that you don't want to, though I will ban that guy from the inn."

After a while followed a gentle: "Are you listening?"

Dream heard him but the words didn't stick in his head, like most things in the past weeks. Everything got covered in the black goo and slid right off. He could barely keep a thought.

But suddenly, that changed. Hob said more gentle, soothing words and cupped his cheeks, turning Dream's face towards his. Looking into Hob's eyes, urged to breathe in sync with the man, kept in place by the gentlest hold, Dream slowly felt the fog stirring. It didn't lift piece by piece but all at once, once it was ready to leave him. And when it lifted, he blinked and found himself in his friend's living room being held so gently, as if he was something precious.

For the first time since that fateful night, Dream burst out crying. He crumpled into Hob's arms as the last string holding him up snapped and he had no more strength in him, no more energy. Hob gathered him into a bear hug and held him and held him and held him and it didn't hurt. It was warm and soft and gentle and only firm enough to hold the fractured pieces of him together, not so strong that he would fracture further. A pained howl left Dream's lips when he realised that this was the first friendly touch that he had had since that night.

With the tears that had been held back for months came words. "It hurt," he blurted out, because suddenly, he needed someone to know. "It hurt, it hurt, it hurt."

"I know, love, I'm so sorry," Hob soothed, rocking him from side to side like a babe.

"I couldn't fix it. I tried but it didn't stick. I can't fix it, Hob."

"You don't have to fix it now. It takes time. It can take years. Eventually, you will heal, but you can be sad and hurt for as long as you need right now. You can cry. You can hurt. You can hide here when you need it. I'm here, Dream, I'm here. I'm so sorry that I didn't notice sooner."

"Don't leave," Dream pleaded, because that is what his mind somehow interpreted from Hob's words. "Don't leave me."

"Never," Hob swore, cupping his face again and looking into his eyes. "I am here to stay. I'm your friend, Dream, and I lo—"

Hob stopped himself before he could say it, but Dream heard it anyway. The shock of those words stopped his hiccuping sobs and tears. He stared with wide eyes at Hob's suddenly uncertain face.

Tentatively, Dream said it. He had to, now. He needed one thing in his life to be good. "I love you, too."

Hob began to cry again. He let out an ugly laugh-sob and shook his head before he held Dream's face in both hands and kissed him. It was just a gentle peck on the lips, a butterfly touch, but it was enough to convey all the emotions.

"I love you," Hob said through more laugh-sobs. "This is the worst time, the worst love confession in the history of the world. But I love you and I can't take it back because I will never stop loving you. I've loved you all those years. You, we, I think we were just made for each other. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Dream. The fact that something happened to the love of my life and I didn't prevent it snapped something in me. It won't happen again, I promise, just don't leave me."

Dream actually laughed. "Never," he promised. "Hob, I, this—" His breathing quickened as all the things that needed to be said swirled in his head in a violent, all-destroying vortex.

"Too much, I know," Hob soothed, hugging and rocking him again. "It's okay, I've got you. We've got all the time in the world, love. We will figure it out. For now, all you need to do is breathe."

Dream obeyed, taking deep breaths as Hob quietly counted them out for him. Once in a while, he buried his nose in Hob's tear-wet shirt and mumbled his mantra into Hob's chest. "It hurt." And Hob nodded, he knew, now he knew and Dream wasn't the only one carrying the weight of the pain.

"I know, love," Hob murmured into his hair each time, pressing gentle kisses there. "I'm here now. You're safe. I'm here. We will figure it out together, later. For now, all you need to do is breathe. You can be sad. You can cry. Just breathe with me so I know that you are here."

#cw noncon #dead dove do not eat #angst #holy shit this is angsty #dreamling #human au #my writing #nsft

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the-bjd-community-confess · 6 months

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I'll never buy from R4psI993 again. I bought two items, and they shipped one. When notified I was missing one item they shipped it in a bubble mailer and between two weak pieces of card board, and it arrived broken clean in half. Notified about the damage and got nothing in response. So I glued the fucking thing back together and now I don't even use the thing at all. Should throw it in the bin, but to be honest, their customer service sucks. They can keep their garbage merch and suck my dick. Never buying from them, and I suggest you make your problematic transactions with popular artists known as that seems to be the ONLY thing keeping these jerks HONEST, fear of legit complaints being publicly shared.

Should have offered a partial refund and at least some fucking empathy. I didn't even ask because during the entire shit show they never apologized and made me feel like once they had my money it was done and over with. Every time I look at this piece I wish I would have done a total refund through PayPal or demand a replacement item but the attitude and lack of customer service quickly made me realize that some artists aren't worth supporting. Kiss my ass R4p1993, your merchandise is TEMU level quality 👌

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Confessions #Buyers and Sellers #Shipping

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lionews · 5 months

Note

Salem|g2|tri-ros|Wepwawet (#244708) is a horrible artist to work with. Their art doesn’t really match their examples, they’re blunt and honestly kind of rude, and charged me an extra 55 GB because they didn’t use the references I gave them and made my character’s skin too dark.

I asked to cancel my second comm with them, and asked if that wouldn’t screw them over, and if I could maybe get a partial refund at least since they hadn’t even started my second comm. Their art thread has no rules against cancellation. They told me that I couldn’t cancel, or be offered a refund since they’d already used up all the payment. You?? Used the payment before you even started the comm?? I understand using the half from what you did complete but oh my goodness. They said they’d have my sketch to me on Sunday.

So then they didn’t message me for six days, and it’s Wednesday now. I message them, asking politely if I can still have my comm since it’s fully paid for, and they won’t refund it. Well, according to them, they cancelled my comm and I just wasn’t getting a refund. Then they blamed me for them choosing to turn away other people trying to commission them because of my two comms. They told me if I didn’t respond to their message within 42 hours saying that I still want the art, that they’ll just fully cancel and not respond to any more DMs.

I could go on and on about all the mistakes they made with the art I commissioned from them, despite giving them as many references as I could. I was commissioning a reference sheet from them, so of course I didn’t have too many, but still. I paid 150 GB for the reference sheet, and got maybe 50 GB’s worth at absolute best.

Seriously guys, don’t bother commissioning this person.

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writinginthesecrettrees · 6 months

Text

I got a Panera order through the app. They gave me the wrong order. They gave me an order worth significantly less than what I'd ordered.

I emailed them for help, asking for at least a partial refund (about $11). They said "sure, but it could take up to 30 days... could we give you $35 on the app for future orders?"

Panera is literally a mile from my house. I get Panera a lot.

This is an acceptable offer.

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deardiary17 · 1 year

Text

Guess what this is?

Yes! It's my new dress! I haven't got a picture of me wearing it so I thought I'll at least share the print. The only downside is that the seller sent me a dress with a tear right next to the zip on the back, and I had to spend a good amount of time mending it with supplies that I had at home (not many because I'm not a professional seamstress). It was in a dangerous place because it would grow bigger with every zip movement.

Still, I managed to patch up the tear! I also wrote to the seller asking for a partial refund (1/8th of the dress' cost), and if they react without a scandal (like some sellers do even if you share the clear evidence), I will place 5 star review without mentioning the tear.

The disadvantages of ordering online...

#thoughts aloud

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nathank77 · 2 months

Text

4/4/24

7:20 p.m

I called my Eyewear company and told them my eyes are watery and strained. They are willing to process a replacement... I might proceed with the same Ray-Bans but considering they touch my cheek and have to have very exact placement bc of my asymmetrical face I might switch.

I'm looking at other pairs. Specifically Oakley Overheads.. but they are 136 hinge to hinge they may be too small. My rimless are 136... but I haven't received them yet to see how they fit... my ideal measurement hinge to hinge is 137-139...

My Beau are 138... also the overheads have a 16 nose bridge... it could be uncomfortable I have to think about it.... idk what to do. My ideal nose bridge is at least 17-19 depending on nose pads or not...

I'm wearing my old Ray-Bans waiting for my eyes to feel normal. Part of me wants to request a refund but I feel like an asshole bc I'll have two pairs of Beau, the rimless and one pair of Ray-Bans bc I will return the ones that make my eyes watery.

I really got to start going to lense crafters or stop wearing glasses. Anyways I'm considering these:

Size is my concern. Idk what to do but I reported the issue soon enough.

My eyes are def still watery... hopefully in a couple hours that stops....

I wish i had someone to help me pick frames. It's a lot to consider if I get the overheads and they are tight and I got to return them it's just getting annoying tbh. I just want to get my glasses and stop needing to replace them.

Part of me is like keep them in the case and be partially blind maybe people will think you're more attractive and interesting.

0 notes

0pinnable0 · 3 months

Text

TailPipe Chastity Bootleg

$500. Five hundred dollars for a chastity cage.

How can a cock cage with a plug be worth that much money?

Despite his huffing, Blake knew exactly why it was so expensive. With nanotech smart technology, the ability to shift form upon command, a plug that wrapped under the groin, and a host of other features made possible by a remote control made the LABRATory Tailpipe Chastity well worth the price. Blake unfortunately made just above minimum wage and with rent, bills, and student loans to pay off, he couldn’t go splurging on luxury purchases as much as he wanted to. He scrolled through the rest of the website, everything more enticing than the last, harnesses, masks, plugs, suits, toy models, and everything more expensive than the last $1000, $5000, $10,000, there was even a seven foot lion toy going for $25,000.

Do I buy a new car or a lion dom top?

Blake closed out of the website. He looked at the jar of cash he had been slowly saving up for personal treats like the chastity plug he’d been eyeing for a while. Sadly broken appliances, and accidentally mismanaged payments had leached the jar to a little over $200, and that had taken almost a full year to build up to. He sighed loudly, closing his eyes, thinking of the months he’d have to wait. A thought made him open his eyes and look back at his computer screen.

Hmmm, maybe someone is reselling one, or something like it for cheaper.

Blake had been determined to buy the goods brand new straight from the source, but his patience was finally wearing away. He put the desired keywords in quotes into the search engine, clicking through each link, only to be disappointed with the same price, or an ad, or something different altogether. He was just about to give up when he stumbled upon what seemed to be a knock off Craigslist. The toy in the pictures was almost identical. Same shiny black rubber cockcage with a tight loop to go around the balls, and a strip of rubber connecting to an egg sized plug.

“1 BRAND NEW CHASTITY PLUG UNIT”

“TECHNICALLY LISTED AS FAULTY BUT FUNCTIONS NORMALLY”

“ONLY CONTACT FOR SERIOUS INQUIRIES”

“$100”

Only a hundred?! But what does faulty mean?

Blake messaged the seller.

“Hey, saw your listing for the Chastity Plug, what exactly do you mean by faulty?”

“Yeah, the remote is a little fritzy, but it still works just the same you just have to be patient with it.”

“And it's from the same company, LABRATory right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s still available then?”

“Yeah, if you want it, just put in your card info and shipping address and it’s yours. Just so you know, no refunds or returns, once it’s your, it’s yours.”

Blake was more than skeptical, but at the same time it was one hell of a deal.

“Just curious about why you’re selling it, can it not be fixed?”

“I mean, yeah, you could probably get it fixed, it’s also just not my kind of thing this specific toy. If you want it lemme know soon, I’ve got other people looking at it too.”

Blake thought hard. Sure it might be partially broken, but at least I’ll have one, and I could get it repaired… maybe…

He sent over his info choosing to believe this was too good and true.

DAY ONE

It was sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he came home from a mind numbing day at the office. A medium sized non-descript cardboard box with an unnecessary amount of packing tape sat on the landing.

It’s here! It’s finally here!

Blake grabbed the box and scurried into his apartment. He took his keys and started ripping up the tape on the box. With a deep breath he opened it. Nestled on a bed of plastic packing material, wrapped in a LABRATory plastic sleeve bag was the chastity plug he’d been waiting so long for.

Hell yeah, come to papa.

He pulled it out of the bag. It was surprisingly heavy, much denser and weightier than all the other sex toys he had used before. Most of the weight came from the plug which was firm but still with a nice give. The cage and loop were also flexible, but not so much to be useless as a chastity device. It was the same shiny black material, except for a band of bright blue running around the cage.

Didn’t notice that before. Oh, where’s the remote?

Blake dug through the packing material, but he couldn’t seem to find a remote. He searched until his fingers brushed up against something.

Huh? That’s too big to be a remote.

He lifted the object out revealing a black mask. It was distinctly feline, like a simplistic tiger’s face made of some black rubbery or neoprene like material. It had a short but distinct muzzle and what seemed to be a rubbery tuft of the same blue on the top of the head not unlike a stylized mohawk. Blue brows above dark tinted lenses. The cute triangle nose was the same blue as the hair as well as a single thin strip of blue coming out from the nose on either side, going right underneath the eyes, before swooping down to the bottom of the face. Blake was too distracted by the very suggestive O shape of the mouth to notice all those details. He turned the mask around seeing not only two holes meant to slide up the wearer’s nostrils, but a cock shaped hollow mouth gag more than a couple inches long.

Whoa, that’s cool, but it's definitely not the remote.

He gave it a closer look, the border of the mask unnaturally smooth with no straps and not nearly enough material to wrap around the head.

How would you even wear it, would you just have to keep sucking the whole time? That can’t be right.

He lifted the mask, he could see through the lenses like sunglasses. He brought it closer opening his mouth, tasting the rubberiness of the gag. He almost pushed it further before the nostril tubes tickled his nose and he pulled it way.

Oh that feels so weird.

He put the mask to the side. He dumped the box upside and kept searching for the remote, but now with a creeping feeling he understood why he got these items for such a steal. After a good ten minutes of hopeless searching Blake gave up.

There’s no remote. There’s no fucking remote. Of course. Of course it was too good to be true.

He went back to his computer to pull up the seller’s page, just to be certain, but the page was gone, not even clicking through his history pulled up the page, just 404’s all around.

God I should have just waited… but still…

He looked at the toy.

I can get it fixed. I’ll get it fixed, and sure getting it fixed might be close to $500 dollars, but now I have a kinky mask to go with it. Even without the remote it’s still usable as something.

***

After a quick shower and some prepping, Blake stood naked in his bedroom, chastity plug and a bottle of lube on the nightstand. He dolloped some lube on his hand, reaching around to slick up his hole. One finger, then two, just enough to loosen him a little, but not enough to give him a full blown erection. He brought the excess around and lightly coated his cock from the tip to base.

Alright, here we go.

After dropping some into the cage, he lined up the head of his penis with the hole and slid it inside. “Ah,” there was an unexpected ribbed texture inside that caught him off guard, and he felt the blood start to pump.

Gotta work fast.

He slid his dick the rest of the way in, feeling a tightness surrounding and holding it in place, and with some strong stretching he got the loop around his balls. The grip wasn’t too bad, like a hand firmly holding onto him. He sat there enjoying the look and feeling before letting out a content sigh.

And now for the plug.

Blake leaned over the bed, holding the plug in one hand, slightly spreading his cheeks with the other. He pressed the tip of the plug against his hole. He shivered, a little chilly, but as he held it there, it started warming up. He kept pressing, lightly put constantly, feeling it sink in little by little. Just as it reached the widest part he let out a big breath and it slipped all the way in.

“Mmmm, there we go.”

He gently clenched enjoying the fullness and the slight prodding against his prostate. He looked between his legs and was caught off guard by a soft blue light.

What is that?

He sat up looking down at his crotch. The blue ring had lit up, gently pulsing light.

What does that mean? Is it-

“Ah! Fuck-” He felt a tongue lap against his constrained cock. It licked up and down, under the head, occasionally flicking.

Oh it works! It still works! Oh wow it- oooo, it works.

He laid back, gently moaning. The licking eventually turned into lips, latching onto the head and then engulfing his dick. “Mmmph, fuck yeah,” Blake could not believe his luck, the toy was working and he was fully enjoying the feeling of something leisurely sucking him off. After a few moments he felt something lap at his balls.

But there’s nothing there to…

Blake stared down watching as the shiny black material swelled covering his junk entirely.

I don’t remember that feature.

Still sucking it eventually formed into a smooth round bulge, the blue ring slowly reforming into the shape of a lock. He reached down prodding the bulge. It squished beneath his touch, but somehow he could only faintly feel it, only really feeling the sucking and licking.

What?

He grabbed the bulge in his hand and squeezed. He felt that, but only just, the simulated mouth sucked hard and he fell back onto the bed.

Well, this isn’t bad, it’s just… different.

And with that he felt the plug pulse.

“Oh, okay, what-Ah,” the plug pulsed again and he swore he felt it get bigger?

Now what?

Blake face his mirror and turned around, spreading his legs. He stared, mouth agape, as a small indentation began to form at the base of the plug just outside his hole.

What is- “Fuck, oh fuck,” the indetation pressed inwards and grew bigger. It grew in size as it pushed inside of him. He panted and stared as the anal sheathe formed, his hole kept agape as it pressed in further, like someone with a thicker than average dick slowly spreading him open before eventually stopping a couple inches inside. He clenched but his hole still gaped. He tentatively brought a finger to his hole and touched it, sending a quiver up his spine.

A lot more sensitive than usual.

He pressed inward, biting his lip. Past the lip of his hole he felt a smooth ridge, then another, and another.

Fuck, I’m ribbed for pleasure.

He waited for more changes, but after a minute it seemed nothing else was going to happen.

Alright, that’s not too bad.

Fully laying down on his bed, Blake started to finger his hole with one hand, squeezing his bulge with the other, thrusting into the fake mouth sucking him off. He built up a rhythm until he felt his body take over, inner walls clenching, hips thrusting-

Shit, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-

And then it was gone. All feeling, the sucking, the sensitivity gone in an instant.

Come on!

He panted, pent up and desperate. Slowly sensation started to return. The faint feeling of licking was first, but he was distracted by the chime of his phone. A text from his manager asking him to come in early tomorrow morning.

Goddamit.

He texted back, confirming he’d be in and put the phone down.

Guess I’ll have to put you away for now.

He felt at the bulge trying to find the seam between his crotch and the rubber… but he couldn’t find one.

Come on.

He felt around the side, and underneath, but no matter where he pulled or dug his fingers in, nothing would lift the material up.

Are you kidding me?

He reached around behind him and felt the ring holding his hole open and tried to get a grip, but his fingers kept slipping. He tried to push it out from within, but it wouldn’t budge.

Just my luck, the faulty product won’t come off. I guess it is meant to be a chastity device and without the remote, gah, this is so annoying.

By that point the sucking had returned and his hole was sensitive once again.

I just gotta… I have to sleep and then I’ll get in early, get out early, and I’ll get this whole thing figured out.

Blake went about his daily bedtime routine, washing his face and brushing his teeth, all the while trying to ignore the toy stimulating him below. He went to bed with a white noise video playing, hoping the sound would help distract him from the pleasure radiating below.

DAY TWO

Blake woke with a buzz, his alarm and the plug going off at the same time. “Ah, come on!” He turned off the alarm, but he couldn’t turn off the buzzing. It hadn’t been a restful sleep, still feeling mentally and physically exhausted, but he got out of bed nonetheless, trying to ignore the vibrations aimed directly at his g spot.

Just gotta, “ah,” get through the day.

He dressed, packed his bag, and drove off while the sky was still dark, the hole plug switching up its vibrations, small and fast, low and slow, even a ripple starting at his hole and going up to the tip inside. When he finally arrived outside the office, he was just about to get out of his car when he realized

Oh shit, I can hear it vibrating… other people will hear it.

Blake hoped with the early morning nobody would be around to hear and hopefully the toy would move on to some other method of stimulation. He walked into the office, thankfully empty as far as he could see and headed to his sectioned off cubicle at the end of the hall. He was especially grateful for the modicum of privacy this allowed. He got to work. He had grown used to buzzes at this point, though combined with the oral stimulation he wasn’t his most productive. Everything was going well until a couple hours in and he heard the tell tale footsteps of his manager.

Shit, shit, shit, would do I do?

He looked around his desk for anything, any noise making object that wouldn’t make him look totally insane. Just as his manager rounded the corner, Blake started rather vigorously tapping his pen.

“Morning Blake!” his manager rounded the corner all smiles.

“Morning Greg!” Blake gritted his teeth. He prayed the tapping would cover the vibrations which he swore were getting louder.

“Thanks for coming in early, everything good so far?”

“Good, great.”

“Not anxious are you?” Greg stared at the pen tapping a mile a minute.

“Just getting some energy out, you know.”

“Sure,” a slightly confused look flashed across Greg’s face, “Think you’ll get the orders in by end of day?”

“If I buckle down, no distraaa-actions,” the plug was shifting, “I should be able too,” Blake twisted his mouth into a semblance of a smile.

“Great to hear. Don’t work yourself too hard okay?” Greg said starting to walk around the corner.

“Okay!”

Blake watched Greg disappear out of view before dropping the pen and collapsing onto his desk.

Fuck, what the hell is it “mmmmmm,” Blake fought back a moan, what is it doing now?

Slowly, little nubs started to form all along the plug, pressing against his walls.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Blake tightened his fingers into fists, curling his toes in his shoes, panting, face against the desk, trying to gain control.

Just get the work done.

He started to type, but with each key he pressed, one of the nubs would spring to life for a moment, all the while the tongue flicked the head of his cock. After hours of torture, he could finally go home. He stood up with a wobble, hurrying past his coworkers, down the stairs, despite the added stimulation of each step rocking the plug, to avoid any potential elevator nonsense and into his car. He drove like a madman before racing up to his apartment, slamming the door behind him, and once again feeling like he was about to burst before all feeling faded away.

“Come On!”

He fell to his knees, taking deep breaths.

I gotta get this off, I gotta this thing off of me.

Pulling up his laptop, he scoured the LABRATory website until he found a customer service number which he dialed. A chipper almost robotic voice responded.

“Hello thank you for calling LABRATory customer service, if you are currently unable to speak or use your hands please moan or groan twice and we will transfer you to a different line. If you are able to speak freely please press one.”

Blake pressed 1, and after a tone, was greeted by the same happy tone.

“Hello, thank you for calling LABRATory, I’m PETRI, how can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I seem to have um, gotten myself stuck, or rather one of your toys is stuck on me?”

“Ah, sorry to hear that, would you mind telling me which kind of toy?”

“It’s the uh, um, the tailpipe chastity.”

“The what?”

“The Tailpipe Chastity! Sorry,” Blake blushed.

“Alright and you are unable to take it off?”

“Yes.”

“Have you tried turning it off with the remote?”

“I uh… i don’t have a remote, I uh, lost it.”

“Oh dear, well you should be able to come in and we can get you sorted, or we can try the manual method over the phone and try to get it off now.”

“Yes, now, please,” the sensation of the mouth sucking was returning.

“Now if you reach to the base of your crotch in between your groin and rear end you should feel a round indentation.”

Blake felt around, finding nothing.

“If you hold it for thirty seconds, the emergency release should activate.”

“I don’t have that.”

A split second pause.

“What?” the cheery voice of PETRI asked.

“I don’t have a button or whatever down there.”

Blake listened, a pause over the phone.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Sir would you mind describing the toy for me?”

“Uh yeah, it’s a cock cage in the front, a plug in the back, and there’s a blue glowing lock symbol on the bulge in front.”

Another pause.

“Hello?” Blake broke the silence.

“I’m sorry to hear about your predicament, but it seems you have the wrong company. We do not sell a black and blue model of that toy.”

“What?”

“We sell in exclusively solid colors, what you’re describing sounds like a custom job which we have no record of on our part. Would you mind telling me where you got your hands on a product like this?” There was a sudden icy serious tone to PETRI.

“I… ” Blake hung up.

Shit. If I tell them where I got it they’ll probably arrest me for buying illegal goods. Fucking fuck!

He took a deep breath trying to calm down, but failed as he watched the shiny black rubber start to spread out from the toy.

Of course, of course it had to get worse.

The material crawled along his skin, a gentle tickling, until it covered him as much as a pair of briefs would, up to the waist and most of his ass.

Well, that’s not too bad… there’s gotta be someway of taking this thing off.

Blake went to his room to the mirror, looking over every part of the material to see if there was anything new, any lift, any possible seam. Nothing. Nothing except the nubs starting to squirm which in turn made him squirm. He fell back onto his bed, writhing, feet pushing, fingers grabbing sheets, his insides wracked with pleasure.

At least it feels amazing.

He groaned and squeezed his bulge as the mouth started sucking in earnest.

Wait, no, it’s just gonna edge me again.

He pulled his hands away, trying to fight the pleasure, and he stayed there all night. The nubs wiggling and occasionally buzzing, tossing his head back and forth until he passed out.

DAY THREE

Blake woke somehow even more exhausted than yesterday, but more importantly feeling full, almost too full.

God what is it today?

He got up out of bed and looked in the mirror and gasped. It was like he was wearing a latex singlet, from his clavicle to the tops of his knees he was covered.

Shit that can’t be good.

He had to admit though, it did look good. The material hugged him tightly and smoothed everything out, creating a trim toned build. The same thin blue line tracing along the side of his torso and thighs, wrapping around his back and delving between his cheeks outlining his hole.

Oh wow.

His hole was gaping already, but today was something else. He could now easily fit three fingers inside of himself, which when he did sent a delightful shiver through his body, his inner walls involuntarily trying to clench down.

That explains the fullness.

He dressed, learning to push through the licking, and surprisingly able to hand the full sensation in his rear. He got to work early again, the less people he had to be around the better. Settling in at his desk, he got to work.

I can do this. I can totally do this.

As he was working, he searched on his phone in the LABRATory user forums on possible solutions. Nothing seemed to match his situation until a post caught his eye.

“Oh yeah, you gotta be careful of copycats out there. I heard this story of one guy, he thought he was getting this suit for a great deal, but then he started having some issues, and turns out he had bought something that had found its way out of the sex toy black market whatever that is. Apparently he vanished out of thin air one day after he started having issues. They found him months later in some wealthy guys mansion trapped in the fucktoy suit. Zonked out of his mind. The real scary thing was the guy who bought him, didn’t even know there was a real person inside, he just thought it was a toy.”

“Why’d they raid his house if they didn’t know a real person was inside?”

“Oh, they caught him trying to sneak a rhino onto his property, a real endangered rhino.”

The post continued on with the drama surrounding the purchasing of endangered species, but Blake’s mind was racing.

Oh god, what if this is a black market toy? Someone’s probably looking for it aren’t they? I mean, probably.

Blake tried to think, but was interrupted by the plug shifting.

Oh no.

He felt it form into a larger than average cock and thrust into him.

“Fuck-” Blake caught himself, stifling the sounds he couldn’t stop from making. The plug already easily seven inches deep inside him, with a girth approaching a soda can started to gently thrust in and out, in and out, never leaving his hole, just working from within.

Oh god, oh god, I gotta get out of here.

Blake stumbled to the restroom and locked himself in a stall. He sat down on the toilet seat and covered his mouth trying to ride it out. Each thrust a stifled, “Mmm.” Breathing hard out his nose, he prayed it would eventually subside. What was even stranger, he noticed, was despite how full he felt, there was still an emptiness inside him only growing stronger. He reached a hand behind his pants and felt between his cheeks. His fingertips reached his quivering hole, he could feel the thrusts even from the outside. “Mmmmm, ah- shit… it has to- mmmm… stop- unh- eventually,” but it didn’t. Not even even when someone else opened the restroom door.

Shit!

He heard the other person walking and saw their feet stand in front of a urinal.

Just stay calm, stay calm.

Blake gritted his teeth as the cock inside picked up the pace. His coworker did his business, and flushed until, “Unh!” The tongue had started up again making Blake let out a groan, he clamped down on his mouth, terrified. The coworker stopped halfway to the sink.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.

“Best of luck to ya!” his coworker said in a joking voice before washing their hands and heading out.

Oh phew, that was- “Ahhh!” Blake felt the cock “slide out” of him, leaving him panting.

I need to leave, I need to- “Unnhh!” He felt a thinner cock slide into him making him fall forward, catching himself on the bathroom wall. Just as it went in, “Ah-mmm!” it slid out.

Okay I- “Mmmmm!” A different cock, shorter but wider took its place, and then it was out. Blake held himself up against the wall as the two different dildos took turns longdicking him until he felt the thicker one lodge itself firmly inside.

Finally I can… oh no…

He felt it. Tapping at his already full hole, the other thinner but longer dildo.

There’s no way, no, no way it could- “Hnnng!” He couldn’t hold back his voice as the second cock started pushing in next to the first. “Hah! Hah! Hah!” Slowly, achingly he was dp’d, his knees shaking, hands holding on tight to the top of the stalls, his hips pushing back into the slow thrust. His body shook waiting for the second dick to bottom out. He had never felt this stretched before in his entire life. At long last, panting all the while, the second dildo reached its destination, and after two thrusts that made his vision almost turn to white, they were both gone in an instant. Blake fell to the ground, not caring he was on a bathroom floor, his entire being overloaded with pleasure and physical fatigue, trying to calm his breathing. He eventually picked himself up, opened the stall and walked over to the sink. As he was washing his face, he noticed a gleam by his neck. He peeked down his button up to see the rubber had climbed all the way up to just below his neck.

Fucking hell, can’t I catch a break?

Looking down his neck he caught a glimpse underneath his shirt sleeve and the inky black had almost reached his wrists. He pulled up his pants and pulled down his socks as he watched his ankles halfway covered.

That’s it I’m leaving.

Blake sneaked out of the bathroom and headed back to his desk. He turned the corner and jumped. His manager was waiting.

“Hey Blake, everything okay? You’ve been away from your desk for a little while.”

“Sorry, I was in the restroom. I-”

The plug sprang to life again.

Not now, please not now!

“Yes?” asked Greg.

“I wasn’t feeling- mnh!” he cleared his throat as he felt what was undoubtedly a tentacle start to squirm inside of him.

“I wasn’t feeling so well, so I went to the restroom and I- ah!” the tentacle pushed deeper inside him, slipping past his second hole and into his colon, causing him to double over.

“Oh my god, Blake are you okay?” Greg held him up.

“No, I, ummm, I think I, ah, need to go home,” Blake groaned as the tentacle pushed and prodded every inch of his spasming walls on its way deeper.

“Do I need to call you an ambulance?”

“No! No, thank you, no, I can- mhp!” Blake straightened up, fighting against the sensual assault.

“Alright, if you’re sure?”

“Yes, mmmph, sure,” and with that Blake grabbed his belongings and bolted. As he was pulling out his car keys, he saw the rubber creep onto the back of his hand.

Shit! I have to get home before it fucks with my hands too.

He drove, for sure breaking the speed limit, the adrenaline helping him push past the sensation of a tentacle filling his guts, and the mouth in the bulge kicking back into gear, seemingly trying to be his demise. He took three stairs at a time up his apartment building as he felt the rubber creep around his neck and around his toes. He fumbled with the keys, the slick black palms now ending in the bright blue rubber covered fingers, slightly puffier, and a lot harder to get a firm grip on his keys. After a good panicked minute, he was inside, and locked the door.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

Blake thought he was about to start crying from the sensory overload when he felt the slick sensation of something covering the back of his head and popping into his ears. All the sensations faded to a gentle sucking of his cock, and a gentle pulse in his hole.

Toys don’t worry.

What was that?

Blake whirled around trying to find the source of the sound.

Toys take deep breaths.

Who are you?

Blake pulled at the rubber around his head, trying and failing to make it budge, his chest suddenly moving making him breathe slower, deeper.

Toys don’t wear clothes.

What are you talking about?

Blake’s arms suddenly froze, then methodically began unbuttoning his shirt.

I can’t control my arms, what-

Toys don’t worry.

His arms took off his shirt, then his pants, and finally slipped off his socks and shoes.

Toys feel better without clothes.

How are you doing this?

Toys don’t worry.

The suit marched him to the full length mirror in his bedroom. The shiny black suit had almost covered his entire body, defining his muscles on his arms, pecs, thighs, and calves accented by a thin blue line running along his sides. The only bit of skin left was around his face sparing his eyes, nose, and mouth. His ears had been smoothed over and replaced with round feline ears.

INITIATING TOY MODEL T-89

Toy model?

The rubber rippled all across his body. He felt a tug along his lower back as a little lump grew into a nub then into a long tail slowly flicking behind him, his fingers puffed up slightly, blue paw pads swelling on his fingertips and palms. The suit changed his stance, putting more weight on the balls of his feet, as muscle was packed onto the thighs as the feet grew out into paws, giving a slight digitigrade appearance, his ass plumping into a perfect pert peach. He looked himself over, his body now a supple, toned, rubbery black and blue tiger toy, except for the pink skin of his face.

Good toys put on their mask.

Mask? What… oh…

The suit marched him back into the living over to the box and dug out the tiger mask from before. Just as the suit raised the mask he gained control over his body again.

Good toys put on their mask.

Blake slowly raised the mask before stopping himself.

Why the hell would I do that, I need to- “Ahh!”

The thrusting returned, the sensation of being longdicked, fast and hard. His newly grown tail standing straight at attention, his new paws tensing and squirming, toes splayed out, still sensitive despite all he had been put through already.

Good toys put on their mask

He fell to his knees, his hole spasming, clenching at nothing “Hah, hah, hah, no, hah, ah, I just-mmmmm,” the sucking joined in, tight around the head of his cock and sliding up and down, still held flaccidly in place, driving him wild.

Good toys are rewarded.

Blake’s thoughts started getting hazy in all the feelings overtaking him.

If I could just cum, I could think clearer.

He squeezed his bulge trying to push himself over the edge, but still nothing.

Good toys are rewarded.

He looked over at the mask again, and picked it up. As he did, he felt his erection starting to be freed from the bulge, the mouth sliding up and down, licking around the head, pushing him another step closer.

So close.

Good toys are rewarded.

He brought it closer to his face and as he did he swore he could feel a strong hand push his back to the ground, and another gripping his hip, “Mmmm” he moaned, the fucking in his ass gaining a human like rhythm. Each thrust hitting his prostate, “Hah! hah! fuck! yeah!” opening him up deep. His dick quivered beneath precum dripping out of him.

Just a little bit more.

Good toys are rewarded.

And with those words in his ears he opened his mouth, wrapping his lips around the phallic gag, “MMMMM!” the sensation transfering to his own cock. He worked the tubes into his nostrils, the length sliding down the back of his throat, powering through his gag reflex as the edges of the mask lined up with the edge of the rubber, melding into one seamless suit.

Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-

The lenses over his eyes darkened to black as all sensation left his body, his dick snapping back into a smooth bulge, the lock symbol shining brightly.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

A flash of light, swirling colors, and static filled his view, and Blake fell into a deep suggestive state. Small LED-like heart eyes appeared on his lenses where pupils would be.

Good toys suck.

He tried to resist, but his need for some satisfaction made him obey. Blake started to suck on the gag and he felt a faint tickle against his dick.

Good toys clench.

Blake clenched and he felt a faint thrust against his prostate.

This repeated over and over, Blake learning to do what he was told to do and receive his reward of a little more pleasure, learning to earn it, percentage by percentage. Many hours later, still sitting prone on the ground, there was a faint clicking at his door. It opened, the lockpicker standing up as two “movers” walked in. They looked at Blake, fully enraptured by the toysuit, gently rocking back and forth, lube like drool dripping from his mouth and ass. The lockpicker pulled a thick silver collar out of his bag, and locked it around the tiger toy’s neck.

ANTI-HUMAN DETECTING COLLAR INTEGRATING

The words GOOD TOY lit up around the collar, Blake letting out a moan as the “movers” picked him up and placed him inside a crate. “All clear here, the sweepers can come in and clean this place up,” the lockpicker ended the call and headed out following behind the crate.

EPILOGUE

“Where did you say this toy came from?” asked the toy club owner. The lockpicker had the black and blue tiger toy on chain connected its collar, the light up eyes in a half lidded state.

“We were doing a sweep of our warehouse and we found this toy in the back of storage. We couldn’t sell it as a suit as someone put this permalock collar on it, so we put a responsive AI in the suit instead.”

The owner gave him a skeptical look. He pulled out a small device, not unlike a handheld metal detector and gave the toy a once over.

NO HUMAN DETECTED

The owner gave it a long look before looking back at the lockpicker. “How much did you say you wanted for it again?”

“Well its a custom toy, unique coloring, obedient omega programming built in, sure it’s a little old, but I’d say, $20,000.”

“$15,000.”

“$17,500.”

“Deal, but any funny business and-”

“No funny business, just think y’all would put it to better use. It’s just not my kind of thing, this specific toy. Also,” he fished into his pockets, “Here’s the remote.” With an exchange of cash, and the handing off of the remot, the lockpicker walked out. The owner looked over at his newest member of staff.

“Who’s a good toy?” the tiger toy mewled, rubbing its bulge, its hole clenching.

“Yes you are.”

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