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#coil slitting machine
nirmaltexim · 11 months
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Cut to Length Line Machine Manufacturer
About PrecisionCut Industries:
PrecisionCut Industries is a leading manufacturer of high-quality Cut to Length Line Machines, catering to various industries such as automotive, construction, metal processing, and more. With a strong commitment to innovation, reliability, and customer satisfaction, PrecisionCut Industries has established itself as a trusted name in the metal fabrication equipment industry.
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Cut to Length Line Machines:
PrecisionCut Industries designs and manufactures a wide range of Cut to Length Line Machines, tailored to meet the specific needs of its diverse clientele. These machines are essential for transforming large metal coils into precise and accurate flat sheets of various lengths. Whether you require precision cuts for small-scale applications or heavy-duty processing for industrial projects, PrecisionCut Industries has the perfect solution to streamline your production process.
Key Features:
1. Precision Cutting: The Cut to Length Line Machines by PrecisionCut Industries are equipped with advanced cutting technology, ensuring precise and uniform cuts throughout the entire length of the metal coil.
2. High-Speed Processing: To maximize efficiency and productivity, these machines are designed to handle high-speed processing, enabling rapid conversion of metal coils into flat sheets.
3. Customizable Solutions: PrecisionCut Industries understands that each client's requirements may vary. Therefore, their Cut to Length Line Machines can be customized to accommodate different coil widths, thicknesses, and processing speeds.
4. Automated Control System: These machines come equipped with a state-of-the-art automated control system, allowing for easy operation and reducing the likelihood of errors during the production process.
5. Durability and Reliability: PrecisionCut Industries uses top-quality materials and components in their manufacturing process, ensuring the durability and longevity of their machines even under heavy-duty usage.
6. Safety Features: Safety is a top priority at PrecisionCut Industries. Their machines are designed with multiple safety features to protect operators and prevent accidents in the production environment.
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smithstructure · 2 months
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Smith Structure | Innovative Design and Engineering Solutions
Smith Structure offers innovative design & engineering solutions for successful projects from concept to completion, providing tailored designs & expert services
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Steel Coil Slitting Machine Equipment Suppliers in Hyderabad
Revolutionizing Metal Processing: The Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company in Hyderabad, India
Introduction:
In the ever-evolving world of metal processing, efficiency and precision play pivotal roles in meeting industry demands. Among the key players in this sector is the Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company, a trailblazer in designing and producing cutting-edge machinery that revolutionizes the way metal coils are processed. Based in Hyderabad, India, this company stands out as one of the best industrial coil slitting machine suppliers in the country.
Background:
Founded with a vision to enhance productivity and streamline metal cutting processes, coil slitting machine for sale in hyderabad, India, has emerged as a frontrunner in the manufacturing industry. Specializing in the production of coil slitting machines, the company has consistently delivered innovative solutions to cater to the diverse needs of metal processing facilities worldwide.
State-of-the-Art Technology:
At the heart of the Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company lies a commitment to integrating state-of-the-art technology into its products. These cutting-edge machines, available for sale in Hyderabad, are designed to slit and cut metal coils with unparalleled precision and speed. Equipped with advanced automation features, the company's machines not only increase efficiency but also reduce human error, ensuring a higher quality output.
Precision Engineering:
One of the key factors that sets the Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company apart is its emphasis on precision engineering. Best industrial coil slitting machine suppliers in India, The machines produced by the company are meticulously crafted to meet the exacting standards of the metal processing industry. This precision ensures that the slitting process is carried out with utmost accuracy, resulting in consistent and high-quality end products.
Versatility in Application:
The steel coil slitting machine equipment suppliers in India understands that different industries have unique requirements when it comes to metal processing. Therefore, their machines are designed with versatility in mind. Whether it's steel, aluminum, or other metals, these machines can handle a wide range of materials, making them suitable for various industrial applications.
Efficiency and Cost-effectiveness:
In today's competitive market, efficiency and cost-effectiveness are paramount. The Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company in Hyderabad recognizes this, and its machines are engineered to deliver optimal performance while minimizing operational costs. The automated features not only reduce labor requirements but also enhance the overall speed of the metal processing line, translating into increased productivity for its clients.
Commitment to Customer Satisfaction:
Beyond providing cutting-edge machinery, the Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company prides itself on its commitment to customer satisfaction. The company's dedicated customer support team works closely with clients, including coil cutting machine suppliers in Hyderabad, to understand their specific needs and ensures that the machines are tailored to meet those requirements. This customer-centric approach has resulted in long-lasting relationships and a growing reputation for reliability in the industry.
Environmental Responsibility:
In an era where environmental sustainability is a global concern, the Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company recognizes its responsibility to contribute positively to the environment. The company, as one of the leading coil slitting machinery exporters in India, employs eco-friendly manufacturing practices and is continually exploring ways to reduce its carbon footprint. By promoting energy efficiency in its machines, the company not only benefits its clients but also plays a role in promoting sustainable practices within the metal processing sector.
Conclusion:
As the demand for precision in metal processing continues to rise, the Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company in Hyderabad, India, stands at the forefront, providing innovative solutions that redefine efficiency and quality in the industry. With its commitment to technological advancement, precision engineering, and customer satisfaction, the company is poised to shape the future of metal processing across India and beyond.
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zhendaowaiilian · 5 months
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Small Size Automatic Thick Coil Slitting Machine: A Game-Changer in the Metalworking Industry
Small size automatic thick coil slitting machines have revolutionized the metalworking industry by providing a cost-effective and efficient solution for slitting thick coils of metal. These machines are designed to handle steel coils of various sizes and thicknesses, making them ideal for a wide range of applications. In this article, Mazs will explore the features of small size automatic thick coil slitting machines and how they are changing the metalworking industry.
What is a Small Size Automatic Thick Coil Slitting Machine?
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A small size automatic thick coil slitting machine is a specialized machine that is used to cut large coils of metal into smaller strips of a specific width. These machines are designed to handle thick coils of metal, typically ranging from 0.3mm to 2mm in thickness. They are fully automated, which means that they can operate without the need for manual intervention, making them highly efficient and cost-effective.
Features of Small Size Automatic Thick Coil Slitting Machines
Small size automatic thick coil slitting machines come with a range of features that make them highly efficient and reliable. Some of the key features of these machines include:
Automatic operation
These machines are equipped with advanced automation systems that enable fully automatic operation. This reduces the need for manual intervention and ensures consistent and reliable slitting results.
High precision slitting
The small size automatic thick coil slitting machines are designed to achieve precise slitting of thick materials. They utilize precise cutting mechanisms and adjustable slitting parameters to ensure accurate width and edge straightness of the slitted coils.
Thick coil handling capability
These machines are specifically designed to handle thick coils. They feature heavy-duty constructions and robust components to withstand the weight and stress of thick coils during the slitting process.
Multiple slitting heads
To enhance productivity and efficiency, small size automatic thick coil slitting machines often come with multiple slitting heads. This allows for simultaneous slitting of multiple strips from a single coil, reducing processing time and maximizing output.
Coil loading and unloading systems
These small size automatic thick coil slitting machines are equipped with efficient coil loading and unloading systems, often in the form of hydraulic or motorized mandrels. These systems enable easy and safe loading and unloading of thick coils, minimizing operator effort and reducing downtime between coil changes.
Integrated control panel
The machines are equipped with a user-friendly integrated control panel, allowing operators to set and adjust various parameters such as slitting width, speed, and tension. This ensures convenient and precise control over the slitting process.
Compact size
Small size automatic thick coil slitting machines are designed to be compact, making them ideal for use in small workshops or factories.
Small size automatic thick coil slitting machines are a game-changer in the metalworking industry. These machines offer a cost-effective and efficient solution for slitting thick coils of metal, making them ideal for a wide range of applications. With their high precision slitting, easy operation, and compact size, small size automatic thick coil slitting machines are changing the way metalworking businesses operate.
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remcortechnology · 10 months
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The sheet coil slitting machine is widely applied in steel furniture, electrical cabinets, elevator, etc. industries, which can be combined with laser cutting, cnc panel bender, Robert loading and unloading system, which can realize the 24 hours unmanned processing and the electricity consumption only need 1 degree/hour. This sheet metal coil line machine is the complete solution for coil sheets. Including a de-coiling system, levelling system, thick turret punching and slitting system.If you need the higher productivity, less electric consumption and less cost on materials and labors. REMCOR sheet metal slitting machine is your best choice. Contact us and get steel coil slitting machine price now!
REMCOR coil-sheet fed punching or shearing line is a fully automated punching solution for metallic coils. Which can realize the 24 hours unmanned production. It is capable of handling coils of 300 – 1500 mm in width, up to 9 ton in weight.
Features of Coil-Fed Punching Machine
24 hours unmanned processing, From the de-coiling, feeding, leveling, feeding, thick turret punching, slitting the whole process can be done with our system continuously. Realize the real 24 hours unmanned processing. The traditional processing needs different systems and a numeral labor to handle the machine together with loading and unloading. Different devices have different beats and lead a lot of waste on labors.
Higher productivity, only need to monitor the system, can realize the 24 hours continuous automatic manufacturing. Continous processing from the raw coil material to the final profile, there is no waste of time in loading and blanking compared with traditional forming lines. 2 times faster than traditional technologies.
Higher Flexibility, Multiple combination with standard die bases and diverse die tools, one-to-one correspondence between products and molds. Shorter mold changing time.
More chances for automation, It is available for combining with laser cutting system, panel bender system, and Robert loading and unloading system, which can leave more space for automation. With punching station unworking, and the other station working, it is equivalent to a leveling line, can provide plates for turret punching, single platform laser cutting machines, automatic panel benders, etc.
Parameter Details of Coil-Fed Punching Machine
Feeding system
1000mm/ Precision Ball Screw
Die base
2 sets of standard thick turret plug-in box molds 4 sets of Remcor standard mold bases
Punch frequency
200cp/min
Die changing trolley
2
Number of servo axes
8+1+2
Material width
300-1000mm
Feed roller
2sets
Correction roller
Up 5/Down 4
Output speed
16m/min
Coil weight
7T/8T
Coil inner hole
φ508mm
Coil outer hole
φ1300mm
Rack expansion
Hydraulic
Max thickness
2mm
Forth
300KN
Maximum punching
90*180mm
Number of modules
There are 8 stations in B and 4 stations in D, which can hold 4 large squares or 8 small squares
Punching accuracy
±0.1mm
Diagonal accuracy
±0.5mm
Coil loading - Trolley - Decoiler
The Coil-sheet fed system starts with loading. The process can automatically change from one material to another in under 2 minutes. The hydraulic expansion is applied in decoiling station. After the decoiling station, the strip is straightened and the coiling tensions are removed.
Levelling station
The levelling station principle is using upper and down rolls to staigthen the strip. After this station the tensions for the strip are removed. The rolls and drive motors will be choosen according to the material thickness. The straightener settings can be imported from the controller system, we also add the manual wheel for the special condition
Punching unit
The levelling station principle is using upper and down rolls to staigthen the strip. After this station the tensions for the strip are removed. The rolls and drive motors will be choosen according to the material thickness. The straightener settings can be imported from the controller system, we also add the manual wheel for the special condition
FAQ of Coil-Fed Punching Machine
1. How can I know if your system workable for my factory
Our metallic coil-sheet feed punching line is widely applied in steel furniture industry, the electric cabinets. the elevator shells, the kitchen and bathroom facilities, etc. Pls kindly share with your profile drawings and material type, width, thickness, weight. We will offer you suitable proposals
2. Can I come to your factory to check the real working process?
Yes and before travelling, pls also kindly share with us your profiles drawings, material type and thickness and weight. We welcome the global business partners to visit us.
3. What's your system punching process, and are they same as turret punching?
Our system Punching is done by tools set in two traversing tool cassettes, with the punching stroke done by a single ram plate. The dies quantity for our punching unit is at least 6 stations more than turret punching. And our system support the customerized square dies. The system starts with the raw coil material, which is different as turret which need to be cut-to-length square sheets that have been processed. The completly efficiency for our system is much higher than turret punch.
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henlimachine2 · 2 years
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About Decoiler Straightener Feeder Machine Manufacturer - Henli-machine
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HENLI MACHINERY FACTORY
Dongguan Henli Machinery Equipment Co., Ltd. established in 2005, is a professional manufacturer focusing on research, design, production, sales and service in the integrated of auto equipments of punching machines, coil automation solution, factory automation solution and steel coil processing production line. Henli Machinery is a Chinese enterprise company with Tainwan technology to design and make the machines. It locates in Dongguan City Guangdong China, which is an international manufacturing city between Shenzhen and Guangzhou City. Our machines are widely used in hardware, home appliance, aotomobile, electronic components and steel coil cutting slitting areas. Products of our company: Slitting line, cut to length line, 3 in 1 NC straightening roll feeder, NC servo roll feeder, high speed roll feeder, uncoiler, starightener, 2 in 1 uncoiler and starightener, double head decoiler, air feeder, precision leveler and robotic arms, etc. We own a subsidiary named Dongguan SYDA Idustrial Robot Co., Ltd. This factory also locates in Dongguan City, established in 2015, possessing a big and beautiful plant. Products of SYDA Robot: N95 type and 3 plys flat type full automatic disposable mask making machines with ultrasonic technology , 6 axis robot (including pick and place robot, welding robot, stacking robot, spraying robot, polishing robot, etc), 4 aixs stamping robotic arm, 4 axis stacking robot , translation manipulator, 2 axis/3 axis transfer manipulator, multi-machine connection transfer manipulator, single machine multistation transfer manipulator, double material feeding machine and sheet feeder, etc. Due to more than 13 years experience in stamping area, we have more advantages in providing automation solution with our
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SYDA INDUSTRIAL ROBOT FACTORY
robotic arms. We are not only a robot manufacturer, but also an integrator devoted to offering solving cases according to customer’s requirement and their scene. Both Henli Machinery and SYDA Robot can offer ODM or OEM service. Even our customers want us to help them look for some accessories or materials, it is our pleasure to help customers with these. You believe us, you made us.
Our machines and production line mostly conclude uncoiling, straightening, feeding, cutting and slitting function. They are widely used for different kinds of coil materials, for example hot rolled, cold rollerd, galvanised steel, stainless steel, aluminum, manganese sheet and high strength steel, etc. The Henli products used in the steel industry include all kinds of metal strip shearing equipment, the operating line thickness is 25 mm, and the width is 2500 mm. Henli products are mainly for steel products distribution center, press users and end users, such as automobile and home appliance industries.
Sticking to the guideline for management of “seeking survival with quality, pursuing development with efficiency, expanding market with credibility”, we guarantee to supply good quality products with reasonable prices and satisfactory service. Henli is your reliable partner, please just feel free to contact us for further cooperation based on mutual benefits!
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[email protected] Address: No.165, Liyatang Industrial district, Lincun Village, Tangxia Town, Dongguan City, Guangdong Province, China(Mainland) Zip: 523721
Website:https://www.henli-machine.com/
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slut4daviii · 1 year
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character(s): d.kaminari
pt: 02/02
cw: fingering, cum/anal eating, edging, praise kink(?), daddy kink, brat taming, caught, post-shower sex, mind-fucking, slight degradation, belly bulge, size kink, thigh-fucking (kinda)
your step-brother thought he had a few more minutes before you got out of the shower. he learns the hard way what happens when you’re caught masturbating.
a/n: i hate this shit sooo fucking much. | i gave up halfway through (thats what took it so long to come out. | minors and fem-aligned DO NOT INTERACT
title: whatcha up to, sparky?
wc: idefk (prolly 2000-2500)
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he only had another minute or two.
steam rose from the crevices of your locked bathroom; music blaring from the other side.
“[n—name]! ng—ngmh! nhg!….fu—fugk! right there!” the words left his mouth in an unceremonious fashion, sounding more like a broken record; he said it again, and again, repeating himself almost indulgently. a hand ghosted his twitching erection, blazing forth a sleuth of high-pitched moans.
your hands reached for the knobs, twisting it off in one swift movement.
“just a little longer baby.”
I—I can’t…! pl—please [name]! I need to— nghm! cum!” the machinery within his body continued to spear his insides, impaling the deepest depths of his mind. with a steady flow of electrons— curtesy of his quirk, the speed of his ‘toy’ increased drastically, now entailing itself into his stomach.
“mmhg! [na—name]! I—I’m gon—gonna cum!”
he listened intently, already having memorized the audio’s contents. your voice spoke to him, shooting daggers into his body.
“does my good boy wanna cum?”
Denki nodded— phonetically speaking through gritted teeth. “tes! [name] le—lemme cuhm!”
“no.”
his body retreated away from the sound, his head snapping backwards at the edging.
sweat trickled from his forehead, exhaustion clawing at his hips. he pressed your shirt— sweat-ridden and freshly used— further against his nose, inhaling deep breaths of your musky scent, the smell sending him overflowing with lust.
he squirmed against your sheets, moving his hands to slam your pillow over his face. “nmfgh…! [n—name]! mfg—ghm!” he pulled the pillow away— vision still slightly obscured by your shirt.
“aww, I’m hurt… comparing me to something as small as that.”
Denki shot up, his quirk mushing more elegant arcs of electrical surges into the machine— it picking up enough speed to make him lurch to his side. “uhng! wa—wait! wait [n—na]! wait, it—it’s not what—what it looks like!”
your body coupled into his vision, the tranquil curves of your muscles blurring behind the liquid wall of lust coaxing Denki’s body. beads of water rolled over your smoothing skin— the moisture from your shower still sticking to the surface of your body.
“oh? is it not? then what’s goin’ on, …zappy?” the nickname fell from your lips like a satin blanket, dully dressed in the glorious afterglow of pleasure.
the toy inside of Denki was still moving, strongly striking his nerves in mind-blurring fashion. “nnguh! it—it’s because of—of your v—oice! the video you made!”
you smirked, a dark chuckle leaving you. “so you watch my videos? that makes you a perv, y’know.”
Denki fumbled, his facade falter alongside the coiling strings of semen erupting from his slit. “unug—ha!” his moan was spun on the web of a gasp, snatching his body’s actions away from him. “I— uhg! …n—no! that’s n—not what I—nghm! meant!” he gulped back his shame, sitting up against your wall. “I— was j—just…” his eyes traveled everywhere, looking for a plausible explanation as to what he was very obviously doing.
you pushed off the frame of your door, dragging your tongue along the ridge of your teeth. “so what did you mean…Denk?’”
the way the nickname burrowed yourself into his skin make him quiver with anticipation. though he didn’t know what to expect. “anything you wanna say?” the question was laced with greed— almost as if you were teetering on the idea of turning him into a, your slut.
your knee connected with the edge of your bed, your weight dipping the mattress intolerably. the water from your hair dripped down your body, running circles on your torso before making way to your v-line. “I—nghm! I was, just… just trying to…” his eyes lowered. “uh! uhm, well… I guess you— we…!”
“eyes up here, Denk’.”
you brought your hand to his chin— almost in a cliché sense, your eyes locking in a one-sided battle. “so, Denk… what were you doing?”
you were hovering over him, your height difference clouding, if not completely obscuring his perspective. your bulge pressed into the cusp of his thighs.
a shallow gasp escaped you, your head dropping to look at him. his legs were shaking slightly, the skin of his body smooth and perfectly poised. “god, your so beautiful.”
Denki flushed; his eyes darting around articulately. his body was cleansed of its own blood, now replaced and replenished by the torrents of your own; he was bound to you. bound in your spell.
“is this my shirt?” his eyes finally focused, the grey material momentarily filling his vision before you took it from him. “is this where my clothes have been going? on your pervy little curves? helping you masturbate?”
“n—no! I haven’t been d—doing anything, man! I’ve ju—just been low on—NGHM!” Denki’s hands came up to your shoulders: gripping and scratching along the skin. “[n—name]! I—I just said that— ngh! I didn’t st—steal your cloths!”
your fingers intersected themselves in the innermost nerves of Denki’s body. he reflected the feeling of arousal in his eyes— the sensation causing the irises of his eyes to gloss over with tears.
“this isn’t about my clothes, Denk’” you groaned, feeling Denki’s legs press on the head of your cock. “its about you. and what you’re doing in my room. with my shirt over your face, and a fuck machine in your ass.”
you displaced your fingers, rubbing them along his prostate. “so, what exactly are you doing?”
Denki threw his head back— a sound erupting from his mouth in a dysphoric rage of moans. “mmgh! I— I w—was low on—ahgn!” a sharp thrust of your fingers stopped his sentence, his cock twitching with precum.
“stop lying Denk’ you know mom hates that shit.”
your cock throbbed painfully, the towel around your waist falling to your thighs— your cock rubbing against your step-brother’s abdomen. “c’mon Denk’” you almost whined, desperation washing over you in arcs of painful crescent moons. “I’m so… fuckin’ horny.”
your fingers glistened within him— a grandeur sound resonating within him. he audibly gasped at it, trying to move away from you but your sudden grip on his thigh altered his movements, making him slide under you instead.
he gulped, finding himself floundering around at the feeling of your cock against his stomach. it aligned with the skin just above his belly button. his movements were spastic, a jumble of jerks and twist sending molten plasma down your shaft.
“Denk…” your words were cold— rigid with seething but controlled gasp. “if you keep movin’ like that, I’ll cum.”
Denki blushed, a liquid crimson band covering his entirety. his movements momentarily halted, the surges of lust nestling into his stomach, coiling into a warm feeling that tightened with each move of your fingers
however, they left his body in a sickly masochistic way. you brought your fingers to your mouth and slid your tongue along the skin, maintaining a dysphasic tone of eye contact. the look in your eyes heating Denki’s body to an all time high.
your fingers, now covered in a flowing sea of spit and lube reached for Denki’s lips— breaking the surface of his mouth. his heartbeat was in his throat, yet, he still took your fingers into the depths of his mouth.
you played with his tongue, using your index and middle to balance the pink muscle in a titillating, slightly uncomfortable fashion.
you moved once more, shoving yourself into his throat. he choked and gagged, spitting around your knuckles but made no attempt to stop your brutality.
after a few seconds, you took your fingers away from him, letting him breathe.
“what were you doing in my room, Denk?” you asked once more.
“hnah! mng—h! I—I wasn’t doin’ anything, ma—man!”
you chuckled, moving your hand to your cock— stroking from base to tip. with your other hand, you wrapped his torso in your forearm, lifting him to your v-line. “tsk, tsk. mom would be disappointed.” your tip grazed his hole, “first, you have the shameless idea to masturbate in my room, then you lie about it.”
you pushed inward— also grabbing your shirt and shoving it into Denki’s mouth. he moaned around the fabric, his eyes crossing when you had yourself fully excavated within him. “I guess you’ve always needed a little more time to learn things…”
your hips fell away from him, dragging your tip down the ridge of his spine. the afterimage of your shaft was still intact; exhibiting through his pelvic muscles. it was filthy. utterly disgraceful to witness. “but… it’s a good thing you’ve got me.”
not a second later, his catalyst was filled once more, your cock reaching intolerably deep into his physique. his arms slid down your chest— leaving scarlet marks on your abdominal walls.
a hiss left your lips, the sound similar to a snake. you grabbed his wrist with one of your hands, using the other to snatch your shirt from his mouth. “haah! [n—name]! de—deep! c—cock too deep’n me…!”
you wrapped his wrist in your shirt, taking the edges of the bindings and crossing them into his drooling lips— the knot forming a gag. “my what?” you mocked, laughter soon filling your white-walls. “too deep? you were just using a fuck machine, jerking your dick to the smell of my clothes! now it’s too deep?”
you began thrusting shallowly, moving his thighs to your chest and pulling his legs to fall down your back. a swift motion of your hips shook Denki’s body, pushing him into his second orgasm.
he tightened around you, a convulsive throbbing in his cock and rapidly clenching hole gave way to the white twine and muffled moans of your step-brother. he thrashed his hands around— vigorously trying to grip onto anything.
you grinned at this, continuously thrusting into him. Denki felt his consciousness leaving him, his eyes falling lidded and heavy.
you, stuttering over the feeling of your own body, groaned profusely— your hips stinging with exhaustion. “you— mgh! you can’t handle my dick? if you wanna tap out, just tell me what you were doing in here.”
Denki mumbled, not knowing how to form correct words. “I—nguhm! ne— never anyth’ng! do th’ng!” he consulted his eyes, the orange pupils glass-like and heart-shaped. “nghu! FUGKH! m—man! ca—can’t think!”
a skeletal architecture altered into his body, forming a permanent semicircular shape— an arch lifted his body off the bed, rubbing your slit into his prostate.
both of your came— your cock trembling with painful arcs of melancholy emission staining the onslaught of Denki’s organs. his body spasmed with crude pleasure— his eyes rolling into emptiness.
his body went limp in your arms: mouth slack, eyes closed, and breathing shallow.
he’d passed out.
your body heaved, heavily burned from your orgasm. your cock was still deep within him, your semen creating a barrier between the two of you— however his warmth was still surrounding you in surreal relief. it begged you to keep going, begged for you to unload your balls and every drop of cum you had into him.
a gulp traveled intermittently across your tongue, cascading into your throat. you casually slipped your finger onto his waist— gripping the skin in a gentle embrace.
you pushed your pelvis further into him, your tip ramming against the bottom of his enclosure. your head tilted back, eyes closed with plenty more pleasure.
you pulled from him, slamming back against his skin in a single breathless moment. his body rippled through with waves of light. sweat enchanted his body like a giant cloud, puddling on his stomach— entrancing the skin alongside the pool of his cum.
you again thrusted into him— this time harsher. you were transported to another world, blissfully unaware of Denki’s stirring body. he was waking back up, his cock sleek with pre-cum.
his vision was still obscured, the feeling of fabric still plastered over his tongue. he whined, more pre-cum falling from his slit. “mghph— phuhk muh! [nuhmhe]! chaut c—can’t cuhm! n’more!”
you couldn’t hear him. you were completely lost in your own thoughts: the same words repeated throughout the entire time, “fuck him! fuck him until he can’t walk! fuck him! fuck him! fuck him fuck him fuckhimfuckhimFUCKHIMFUCKHIM!”
your thoughts mushed together, a singular statement that dug deeper and deeper into your mind. it burned into your brain, forcing your hips to move internally deeper, milking a third orgasm from Denki. he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, he was racked with tears— crying out in ecstay
you were panting heavily, biting down on your lip to keep your sounds of elation. your orgasm was slowly steeping upon you, the feeling setting off a buzzing sensation all over your body.
“fuuhk… Denki, I’m gonna— Imma cum.”
Denki’s legs shook with excitement, another orgasm rumbling through his body. he screamed around your shirt, pressing his hips against yours. spit dripped from his chin, running down his abdomen and onto his maroon shaded tip.
overwhelming coils of heat knotted within you, pushing your hips into an uneven pace
you weren’t aiming at anything, just hitting Denki’s body over and over again. you were chasing after an orgasm that was mere inches away.
sloppy thrust turned to harsh, animalistic tactics— erratically fucking Denki into the soft cloth rubbing against your balls. you were going crazy, the heat from your abdomen shooting into your tip, choking you in a panicked rage.
you leaned down to Denki, ripping your shirt from his lips, quickly replacing the cloth with the chapped skin of your lips. you messily kissed along his face, moving sloppily to his neck. “who’s your daddy?”
Denki moaned— the sound hoarse and cracking. “y—[name]! m’daddy! m’yer slut!”
the words only continued to edge you, your tip twitching inside him, “say it again— fuck… I’m so close to giving you my kids…!” your shaft throbbed at his mindlessness, the moans bouncing like embers from a raging river of fire. “please, say it again…! what’s my name, Denk?”
“daddy! da—duaddy! mngh!… ma’cuhm! cuhm n’daddy’s cock!” again Denki clench around you, his swollen hole screaming at you to keep going— keep abusing him until your name was spelled into his organs.
“fu—“ you couldn’t finish your sentence, a powerful surge of pleasure rushing through every blood cell in your body, energetically jerking your lower body around. like an angry explosion your cum clawed its way through you, pushing out any and everything you had within you, transferring it into Denki.
Denki’s cum was clear— thin and falling onto his pecs, dripping like water onto his face. he shivered at the feeling, not having the energy to move or even breathe correctly.
you sighed, head falling painfully to your pillow, the feeling of Denki’s hair right beside your face annoying the nerve endings of your skin.
you pushed his head away, closing your eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.
until…
“[NAME]! DENKI! WHAT IS GOING ON?! WHAT ARE THE TWO OF YOU DOING?!!”
you gulped.
shit.
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elaichoi · 1 year
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do u have any gyu hard thoughts to share with the class plea 💔💔😞
this is my first time writing hard thoughts based on anon ask pls look at it prettily and let me know if there were mistakes!!
ok omg anonie!! there's just so, so many hard thoughts about beomgyu, and most of them tend to be filthy as fuck, because i don't think he won't just 'make love' to you, sometimes he kinda seeks a purely messy fuck.
okay this one that's been currently been on my head is that beomgyu out of all the members most likely would be inclined into see you just go crazy, like batshit eyes rolled back even without him touching —actually begging for him to fuck you real good with his dick while you're already getting your pussy ravaged.
so yeah, i think he'd probably buy you a fucking machine.
tag warnings: voyeur, overstimulation, masturbation( both female and male, sex toys, squirting, cunninglingus(?) not proofread yet.
the loud whirring noise of the fuck machine fusing with your own melodic screams of pleasure sent shivers down beomgyu's spine as he sat before you in chair, with his cock in his hand.
beomgyu's legs were apart much like yours, his balls sat heavy on the cushioned surface of the chair—filled with cum that he wanted to release into your cunt, but seeing the artificial silicon cock thrusting in out of our swollen core had kept him seated. the way your body writhed in overstimulation to the rhythm of the rigorous machine scratched the perverse itch in his head. noticing the way your pussy clenched against the fake cock, and your body lathered in sweat, it was starting to get hard for beomgyu to keep hands to himself.
oh how desperately did he want to replace the fake cock with his real one—but he won't. he wanted to see you break first.
"fuck beomgyu i want your fucking cock!" you screamed as your hips shook, the assault still carrying on your poor cunt—that shook uncontrollably at each thrust.
beomgyu ran his hand through the slit of his cock, a barely audible hiss playing at the tip of his tongue as he pressed his thumb deeper—causing more precum to leak out as his eyes assessed your situation.
you were laid on a towel—that was almost wet due to the numerous times you had squirted already whenever beomgyu pulled the machine back to see you cunt clench over nothing—it was one of his sick guilty pleasure—you were panting heavily, the sweat dripping down from your body to the same towel, and your legs wobbling as you tried to get yourself off the machine as it fucked your own cum back into your cunt. the black colour of the cock turning stained with your white fluid.
"do u really want my cock?"
beomgyu stood up— his angry, hard cock standing up straight against his stomach as he walked over to you.
beomgyu bent down slightly before you slightly so he was hunched over you, his right hand coming so close to your pussy that you started to dream that he was finally gonna free you and fuck you himself but instead his hands fisted the silicon cock that was still thrusting inside. the warmth of his hands sending you into an overdrive, and the coil in your lower stomach tightening when you felt the side of his palm dig into your pussy.
you gulped—beomgyu was staring right in your eyes as his hand fisted the cock, before he finally pulled again and held the open palm—with your essence all over it and stuck his tongue out. his tongue widened at his palm as he took lip, making sure to get most of it. you pussy was clenching against the cock more than you could even handle, but your body wasn't in your control.
"squirt directly into my mouth next time and maybe then I'll fuck you with my cock."
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©ITGIRLHUB '23! feedbacks are appreciated!
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broodybuck · 6 months
Text
Title: Milk Bar
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes
Rating: E
Tags: 18+ explicit smut, omega verse, milking, college AU, alpha Steve, omega Bucky
[ao3 link]
The Milk Bar had a simple purpose, to milk. It was established in most omega schools by the late 1900s when they discovered that omegas will chafe from too much masturbation while in heat. They found they were too desperate to use their slick properly and ergo the no masturbation rule for omegas came into play.
In the beginning, there was some retaliation to the rule and the construction of the Milk Bar but after a short time, omegas fell privy to the convenience and enjoyment of it.
Over time, the Milk Bar has become fully customizable. Each omega fills out exactly how they want to be milked whether that be by a machine, toy, a professor's hand, or a professor's cock. The bar assures full anonymity for both sides and the bar is open 24 hours.
When Bucky first got to university, he hated the idea. He even rebelled when he got his first heat at school and secretly got himself off during the nights. But the chafing was worse than ever since he was so rushed to get through it in the limited hours under his bedsheets.
Eventually, he stubbornly tried the bar and ordered a toy. And yeah, it was nice. Alone in a soundproof room with a slicked up toy that got him off so well he couldn't resist coming back.
The more he went back, the more he wanted. He couldn't help himself, every sign of a boner and Bucky was rerouting to the bar after class, before bed, during lunch. Basically, all the time.
Finally, the day came when Bucky swallowed his pride and ordered a professor's hand. Bucky wasn't sure what to expect and he walked into the room hesitantly.
Ends up, this service is similar to a glory hole except it's more like five-star establishment glory hole. The hole is built into a velvet patterned wall with a spongey rim. There's a plush cushion set on the floor so that kneeling will be more comfortable.
Bucky settles onto the cushion. He unzips his fly slowly, gulps down a lump of nerves and then pushes his hard cock through the soft hole. Already, the spongey texture hugs the base nicely. He has the urge to slide his cock back out then in again and get himself off on that alone but he doesn't have the chance when a warm hand wraps around him.
The movement is careful at first. Slow, calculated. He feels fingertips graze over the head of his cock and he shudders. Maybe he was missing out, he thinks. Using toys all this time doesn't quite compare to a human touch.
The hand grips him firmly and strokes down his entire length. Bucky coughs out an uneven moan. The unknown, the anticipation of what the man — or hand — will do to him is making Bucky's gut coil with excitement. Yeah, this might be a whole lot better.
"You must've been waiting for this," a voice speaks from the other side of the wall.
Bucky tenses, he wasn't expecting the person to talk. Is that part of the service, he wonders. There were no specifics in the order form.
"Poor head is all red and swollen. You're leaking, honey. Oh, you need this bad," the voice goes on.
Bucky shivers. Damn, the voice is nice. It's low and deep, definitely a man. And the way the man's talking to him is making his skin burn in all the right ways. He wouldn't be opposed to more dirty talk. So he answers.
"Been holding out all class," he replies and he's embarrassed by the crack in his voice. He's still nervous, he's never done this.
"Awe, poor thing," the voice coos and strokes him tightly.
The grip stays firm and makes sure to pull all the way from the base to the very tip. It's not until the palm circles his head, his thumb pressing into the slit that Bucky moans wanting and loud.
He bites down on his lip, feeling his face flush even though the other man can't see him — won't even know who he is. Still, he's embarrassed. But the man on the other side hums contently.
"That's it, honey. Let it happen. I know how much you need this."
Bucky whines at that, god it's really doing something for him. No more toys ever, he thinks right before his brain goes blank because the man starts stroking him rough and fast, focusing mostly on the head before another hand squeezes through the hole to cup his balls.
Bucky pushes forward on instinct trying to fit his balls through the hole, trying to give as much of himself as he can to this stranger who's helping him so well.
It's perfect then, the man plays with his balls and strokes his cock with a fervor Bucky can't usually maintain himself. And then there's something wet on the head — oh fuck, a tongue. Bucky has no idea if this is included in "Professor's hand" he's pretty sure it's fucking not but he doesn't give a single fuck.
Bucky's hipbones thump against the wall as he thrusts forward, desperate for more. He wants the man to put his whole mouth around him, swallow him down. He keeps pushing against the wall in a sad attempt to get it.
"Oh please," he hears himself plead. "Oh god."
He never gets more than the tongue teasing the tip but everything the professor is doing is more than enough to send him straight over the edge. And Bucky howls. Honestly, he swears he's way too loud but his orgasm bursts out of him so unexpectedly he can't help what broken sound escapes him.
His forehead drops against the velvet. He pants roughly as he feels the hands release him and fall away. He pouts, truly pouts, because he wants those hands back, that tongue back — that voice.
Don't go, he wants to say but it's their job to leave. This is it, this is all he ordered.
He's not sure if the man is still there by the time Bucky finally picks himself up and rezips his fly. But he still says it out loud just in case.
"I'm coming back after my class... at 7."
He walks out on shaky limbs.
And it's crazy, there's no reason to hope the same man will be there. He'll never know who it is and all he did was talk a little sultry to him. Maybe they all do that... guess he'll find out, Bucky supposes.
~~~
He's back sliding his cock through the hole more eagerly this time. A hand wraps around him. Bucky closes his eyes.
"You're just as hard as last time, honey," the voice says.
"It's you," Bucky lights up, eyes open wide again.
"Of course, figured your message earlier was a request for me. I hope so, at least."
"Yes."
"Good," the voice hums, making his first stroke with his fist. "Been thinking about this sweet cock for hours."
Bucky shivers, smiling now, and pressing as much as he can against the wall.
"Please, it's so good," Bucky mumbles.
The man fists him in tight strokes, slowly at first, before picking up the pace. He reaches for the balls. Bucky thrusts forward. This time the man pulls them forward so they're pressed tightly under his cock, squished to the rim of the hole. The professor teases his balls gently as his other hand plays with the leaking slit.
Bucky moans brokenly. His hips hump the wall in short spurts letting the spongey rim stroke the base of his cock as the man on the other side services the rest.
The tongue is introduced a few minutes later and Bucky whines breathlessly when he feels the first lick against his tip.
"Please, please," Bucky mews.
The tongue pauses momentarily before a pair of lips engulfs the head of his cock. Bucky sucks in a breath of anticipation. The heat of the mouth stays fixated around just the head but it's enough. Bucky comes in pulses, immediately, right into the man's mouth.
Then a cold air hits him brutally as everything falls away again.
It's no surprise Bucky keeps telling the man exactly when he'll return. It happens three more times before the man changes.
Bucky's so disappointed when he feels a different hand wrap around him. When the new person doesn't speak a word to him, it takes Bucky double the time to get off. And at one point, he hears a huff of annoyance on the other side of the wall when it takes that long.
Bucky's scared to go back now. It was so different with someone else and there's no guarantee he'll get the man with the pleasant voice. So Bucky goes back to the toys but he's missing the mystery man like a song he's desperate to play on repeat.
~~~
One day after class, Bucky walks out half hard. It's frustrating at this point to think about going to the bar for a mere plastic toy. It doesn't feel enough anymore.
He stands in front of the door to the Milk Bar contemplating his order. He doesn't want an irritable, silent hand again. He'd take any toy over that. But is the small chance worth it to order a Professor's hand again in hopes it'll be him.
Eventually, Bucky realizes he's got to go in. He's started throbbing in his jeans. He tugs on himself discreetly before stepping up to grab the handle of the door when it swings open.
The door hits him in the shoulder and he tumbles backward falling onto the ground.
"Shit, I'm so sorry."
Bucky stiffens, he can't move even as a hand grabs his elbow and tries to help him up.
"I'm sorry about that," the voice says again.
Bucky looks up, eyes wide with disbelief, and stares into the face of an attractive older man. Eyes blue as the ocean, blonde hair with waves to match, and a voice he recognizes far too well.
Bucky's speechless and it worries the man. He helps Bucky to his feet and steps back with a frown.
"Are you okay, are you hurt?"
Bucky shakes his head, his skin starts to tingle with every familiar note he gets.
"I'm... Bucky," he says and puts his hands out.
"Oh, I'm Steve or well, Professor Rogers. I don't think I've had you in class before," he replies, shaking Bucky's hand.
And Bucky feels the memorable warmth and smoothness of the palm in his. He holds on tightly, not letting the man's hand go. Steve's brows knit together in confusion.
"No, you haven't," Bucky answers. "But I think we've met."
Steve still looks lost, he glances down at their hands, then shakes his head with more confusion.
Bucky motions to the bar behind them and Steve's eyes go wide.
"Oh, no. That's completely anonymous," Steve objects.
"I told you when I'd be back but you weren't there."
Steve's mouth parts. "That was you?"
"It wasn't the same," Bucky frowns, finally letting Steve's hand go.
"What do you mean?"
"No one does it like you," Bucky's voice cracks but he doesn't care this time. He's finally found the man behind the wall and he can't let him go now.
Steve's face morphs into something else, his eyes darken.
"Well, no one's ever answered me before."
Bucky smiles, he can't help it from spreading across his face.
"Please, could we..."
"The bar has to be anonymous, you can't request me."
Bucky sighs.
"But now that we've met outside the bar..." Steve points out, "we could go somewhere else."
~~~
They stumble into Steve's place. He switches the lights on, kicks the door shut and leads Bucky to his bedroom kissing him all the while.
He crawls over Bucky on the bed, kissing him everywhere. This is what the bar is missing, Bucky thinks. Kissing. Bucky loves it, he squirms in delight kissing the man back as best he can.
"Want more," Bucky breathes.
"Mhm?"
"More than your hand. Want your cock, Steve."
"Fuck," Steve growls and latches his mouth onto Bucky's neck before he kisses down to his collar.
He lifts Bucky's shirt up kissing the skin revealed underneath. He licks over a nipple and Bucky shudders. He moans when Steve's lips suck down. He grabs Steve's hair, moaning in his ear as Steve moves to the next nipple.
"You're sensitive," Steve hums happily.
He kisses down Bucky's ribcage and Bucky sucks in sharp breaths feeling a fiery heat spread over him.
Steve sits up, his hands collecting at the fly of Bucky's pants. He runs a hand over the bulge there.
"You need it as bad as last time?" Steve teases.
"Worse," Bucky huffs, his hips bucking into the air.
Steve chuckles darkly pushing his waist back down.
"Well, I better see for myself," Steve says and undoes the fly, slipping his hand inside to pull Bucky out.
Bucky's aching in his hand. He bites back a whine as Steve holds him. It feels as perfect as he remembers.
"More Steve," Bucky whines again trying to push up into his hand but Steve won't budge.
"I know, honey. You want me to fuck you. And I intend to."
Bucky shivers with his words. It makes Steve smile and he leans down to kiss the head of the cock. He sticks his tongue out and laps gently over the tip. Bucky breathes out shakily.
"I wasn't supposed to do this at the bar," Steve says in between short licks. "But I couldn't resist. Once I saw this pretty cock."
Bucky moans in response.
"I needed it. You knew," Bucky whimpers.
Steve lets out a satisfied growl at that and rewards Bucky by sucking the head into his mouth. He lets his lips slide further down this time, eyes trained on Bucky as he taunts him with more and more of his hot mouth.
"Yes, please."
Steve smiles around him and finally, swallows him down to the base. Bucky moans out a long and loud. He tries to savor the feeling but then Steve lifts up much too soon.
"It killed me when you begged me," Steve pants over him. He kisses him hard and then grabs his cock, stroking him steadily in between them. "God, Bucky you're the only one I had to touch myself with at the bar."
Bucky whines desperately, fuck, it's the hottest picture Steve could've ever put in his head.
His hips lift again as Steve's fist moves up and down him.
"More, Steve. Please, please."
"I know, honey," Steve coos and lets go of his cock.
He slides Bucky's pants and underwear off, brings three fingers to his mouth and slurps on them vigorously. He wets Bucky's rim, licks his fingers again, and sticks the first one inside.
Bucky's body instantly reacts. Slick drips out of him, coating Steve's hand and his thighs.
"Fuck, honey. Look how bad you need it."
Bucky nods, pushing his hips forward, and biting his lip.
"Tell me, 'mega, what do you need?" Steve asks.
"Your cock, alpha," Bucky mewls.
Steve growls with a smile and whips his hand back. He tears open his pants and pulls his cock out. Bucky drools at the sheer size of him. Then sucks it all back in when Steve shoves it inside him in one hard thrust. He cries out, slick pours out of him. Steve captures his mouth in a filthy kiss.
"We can't do this at the bar," Steve croons as his hips jolt into a cruel and fast pace. "Can't watch your face, can't see what my cock is doing to you."
Bucky whines, hugging Steve tight as his cock rubs over his prostate repeatedly.
"Yeah, I know sweet thing. I know how bad it is. I'm gonna help you, just take it," Steve coaxes.
More slick gushes out of Bucky. Another kiss invades his mouth. Steve's tongue invites himself in and then Steve starts ramping up the pace. Pounding his cock into him like it's his job.
Bucky's eyes roll back, he's already too close.
"That's it, honey. You need this," Steve husks and grabs his cock to pry the come out of him.
It works, much too immediately, and Bucky starts shaking as he comes.
Steve sits back to admire his work. Bucky's come spread over his stomach. Steve smiles right before he pulls back and then slams into him again. Then he fucks him that hard until he comes and Bucky's nutting all over again.
They catch their breath together. Bucky can already feel how sticky he is with the mess of slick and come between his thighs but he doesn't care. He kisses Steve's shoulder until the man picks his head up and kisses him on the lips.
"Feel better?" Steve asks.
Bucky nods breathlessly. Steve pulls out and easily scoops Bucky into his arms, flipping them around so Bucky's curled into his chest as Steve rests against the headboard.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Steve says kissing Bucky's forehead.
"For what?"
"For letting me see you."
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nirmaltexim · 11 months
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Cut to Length Line Machine Manufacturer
Title: Enhancing Precision and Efficiency: The Role of Cut to Length Line Machine Manufacturers
Introduction: In the dynamic world of manufacturing, precision and efficiency are paramount to meet the demands of modern industries. Cut to length (CTL) line machines play a crucial role in producing accurately sized and shaped metal sheets, catering to diverse applications across sectors. This blog explores the significance of Cut to Length Line Machine Manufacturers, their contributions to the manufacturing industry, and the key features that make these machines indispensable.
Understanding Cut to Length Line Machines:A Cut to Length Line Machine is an advanced industrial equipment designed to process coilsof various metals, including steel, aluminum, and stainless steel. These machines can uncoil the metal coil, level it, and cut it into precise lengths and widths as per the required specifications. They are widely used in industries such as automotive, construction, appliance manufacturing, and metal fabrication.
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The Importance of Precision: One of the primary advantages of Cut to Length Line Machines is their ability to achieve exceptional precision. Manufacturers rely on these machines to consistently produce metal sheets with precise dimensions, ensuring compatibility with downstream processes and reducing material wastage. Precision is especially critical when industries demand tight tolerances and strict quality control measures.
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Conclusion: Cut to Length Line Machine Manufacturers play a vital role in enhancing the precision, efficiency, and overall productivity of modern manufacturing industries. Their dedication to quality, innovation, and customization empowers businesses to meet the ever-changing demands of the market. As manufacturing technologies continue to evolve, these machines will remain a cornerstone of efficient metal sheet processing, shaping industries and driving progress across the globe.
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smithstructure · 3 months
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Smith Structure| Design & Engineering for Your Projects
Smith Structure provides innovative, efficient design and engineering solutions focusing on precision, efficiency ensuring high-quality results on time & budget
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Steel Coil Slitting Machine Equipment Suppliers in Hyderabad
Revolutionizing Metal Processing: The Coil Slitting Machine Manufacturing Company in Hyderabad, India
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j-nope-not-today · 2 years
Note
Can You Do A Vampire Donnie x F!Reader But In Bayverse And With Prompts And Can You Do A Lemon For It Too
89. Mating season 74. “Just relax.” 79. “Lay back and let me take care of you.” 58. Turtle bedroom 123. “Don’t hold back.” 132. “Argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” 142. “Bite me.” 5. “MINE.” with 151. “Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?” and Turning into a vampire
First time
A/n: I didn't do the vampire part bc I couldn't make it make sense..if that makes sense, but I hope you like it. I'm not good at smut so I'm sorry if it sucks. Thanks for requesting!
Also minors don't read.
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I was so excited! Finally me and Donnie could have the place to ourselves.
Raph, Leo, and Mikey had all agreed to hang out with April for the night and she had convinced Splinter to come with. Which was shocking that he had agreed. Which meant I could have alone time with Donnie.
Which meant we could do alone time things..
But I was nervous. We had talked about it and decided when we could be alone we would..do it. Which was a big step and it was definitely nerve wracking.
So I put on the nicest set of lingerie I had and put on my cutest clothes. Today was the day and honestly I was just excited to see Donnie.
I arrived at the lair shortly after everyone else had left and I knew I would find Donnie working in his lab and that I did.
There he was tinkering with some weird machine he was building and I cleared my throat. Stepping into the room and over to where he was.
"Hey! You got here sooner than I thought you would?" He set down his tools and wiped off his hands.
Turning to look at him I smiled
"Yeah I was really excited to see you.."
"So do you want to uh watch a movie first or.."
"Donnie we don't have to rush into it. We can watch a movie first."
"Okay! Follow me." He grabbed my hand and pulled me to his room. Softly shutting the door behind him.
"M'Lady." He motioned to his bed and I laughed before making myself comfortable amongst the cushions.
He sat next to me and pulled out his phone. We settled on watching Jurassic Park and I could tell he was nervous the entire movie, but I was too.
Once the movie wrapped up I looked over at Donnie and smiled at him.
Reaching up and turning his face to mine.
"Just relax Donnie." I placed a gentle kiss on his lips and he smiled down at me.
Brushing his hand over my shoulder. I climbed over him off the bed and slowly stripped off each article of clothing watching as Donnie stared at him hungrily and shifted on the mattress before climbing back onto the bed.
"Wow you look.. beautiful."
"Your turn." I giggled motioning to his still clothed form.
"right uh yeah." Donnie stood and hurriedly stripped the clothing from his body until he was as bare as me
As my eyes danced along his naked figure I felt my core clench at the sight. He was much bigger than I had imagined. His words tore me from my thoughts.
"Lay back and let me take care of you." Donnie mumbled before climbing onto the bed and leaning over me as I laid back against the sheets.
He began to place soft kisses all over my face before trailing them down my neck to my shoulder leaving small bites along the way. Eliciting quiet moans from my lips.
I felt his finger trail downwards and I felt his hesitation to continue.
"Don't hold back Donnie.." I mumbled and his fingers continued their downward dance.
Before he trailed a finger along my slit and over my sensitive nub. My body jolted slightly before he began to work a finger into my entrance.
I moaned softly at the feeling of his finger stretching me and Donnie continued his ministrations all while placing slow kisses all over my neck and breasts. Kneading and pulling at them.
Donnie slowly slid another finger in with the first and I felt a coil begin to form in my stomach.
Donnie moved his fingers quicker at the sounds leaving my lips and finally the coil snapped and I convulsed against him. The only sound heard throughout the room was my quick breathing and the soft wet sounds of Donnie slowly pumping his fingers in and out of me.
He slowly pulled his fingers out and licked them clean all whilst staring at me and I gulped at the sight. Leaning up and kissing him humming at the taste of me on his lips.
Before pulling away and laying down against the sheets. Looking up at Donnie I took a deep breathe
"Well aren't you gonna finish what you started?"
Donnie let out a small chuckle before lining himself up to my entrance. Slowly pushing in and I moaned at the feeling. Once he bottomed out he paused for a moment and let me adjust. Placing soft kisses on my face to distract me.
"Okay..you can move."
Slowly he pulled out and pushed back in and we both moaned at the feeling before he did it again. Slowly picking up the pace. I felt that familiar feeling in my stomach again.
"Donnie.." I whined out.
"Y/n..I-I don't think I can last much longer." He let out another moan and gripped onto his arms tighter.
After a few more harsh thrusts I came undone and Donnie let out a cry and I felt his warm seed fill me up. Slowly he pulled out and placed a kiss onto my lips. Climbing off of me and I listened to him fumble around his dresser.
I winced at the wet cloth on me and Donnie placed gentle kisses on my knee.
"Sorry.." He mumbled before I watched him toss it in the trash and he laid next to me.
Wrapping me in his arms.
"How was it?" I looked up at him and laughed
"It was great Donnie." He smiled and lifted his covers over the both of us.
"Get some rest. I'll wake you in a little bit." He pulled me into him and wrapped my arms around him.
"Okay.." I yawned and my eyes drifted shut.
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lovesickrobotic · 2 years
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titanfall lesbian titan x pilot WIP
Rated L for Lewd. Co-authored with the lovely Alexi#6410 to help with Titanfall lore. For the sake of this ficlet, we decided to forego the tiny cabin/cockpit most Titans have in favor for a slightly larger one, similar to my HAL fic. We might fudge some stuff, so please do not bully us. One could forego the Titanfall entirely for standard, shameless mech-fucking if so desired. Please give feedback if possible, loveliest Anons! It will help us write more!
Jules found herself laying on her back, her mind a flurry of emotion and lust. Her breath hitched on its journey in and out of her lungs as she concentrated to the best of her ability, though being pent up for a week didn’t exactly make her attempts at concentration easy, especially with the way that her pants were freshly tugged off.
A mechanical tentacle was wriggling its' merry way under the elastic band of her panties, pulling them free of her legs to expose her gorgeous, damp slit as well.
“Are... we really doing this? I- I mean you offered... but it’s- well- I...” She asked after a moment, though her voice trailed off as she occupied herself watching the artificial appendage manage to remove her unadorned black panties down to her ankles before it chose to rub against her drooling slit. This earned a shy 'nnh,' from her.
Her titan replied meekly - they had studied up on her love for being dirty-talked. "Yes, Pilot. Yes we are. We are going to because we want to. How long have you thought all of these fantasies about me? Would it... suffice to know that I have thought very similar of you? How many times I've been with myself, alone, utilizing my processing power to generate the perfect imagery of you, captured in my coils, begging and crying with need as I stretch your holes open..." Jules' breath had become particularly stuttery and laborious now. Vicky was not unaware. "Oh. I see. You like my fantasy... why let it be one, pilot, when it can be our reality?"
Jules was a Pilot. A damn good one, too. She graduated second in her class, and she'd spent the last year bonding with VS-137, though everyone who wasn’t a machine just called the Titan Vicky. Vicky was a state-of-the-art personalized combat Titan, twenty feet tall and equipped with a personality matrix hardly distinguishable from a human save for directives. Her Titan AI was always active; she identified as a female. Her... 'tentacles' were officially made to act as a fine manipulation and maintenance tool, suited for all sorts of tasks from lubricating joints to fixing breaches to her hull... but anything can go in a hole if you’re brave enough, and Jules was definitely brave.
The fine-manipulator tentacle, which had just finished lasciviously removing damp black panties, pulled away from the Pilot's drooling ladyhole. It snaked its' length up her chest and to her shoulder before quickly twining around and securing her arm. The now-bound Jules took a moment to test the strength of her improvised bounds, and found little chance of escape; not that she would if she could.
Soon enough, blue eyes widened with the blow of reality as Vicky revealed the particular tool that she had chosen to start with: it was so big in size that every drop of need that drooled from its' overtly-prehensile tip splattered on impact with the ground, but even then... the problem, more over, was the sheer width.
“I-Is... that going to... fit?”
“Inside your slit?" There was a smug pause as Vicky gave off an artificial pause of thought. "No... But I’ve seen the toys that you think you hide from me, Pilot." Jules gasped softly in response. Vicky continued, pretending to ignore her, "You can take it up your... rear, can’t you?”
“N-Not... dry!” Her face pointed downwards, stained with poorly-restrained blush. This was not like a Pilot, not like a soldier. How forbidden; taboo, and yet she found herself drawn to it.
“Allow me to handle that, Pilot.” The thin veneer of some form of formality still found a way to shine through.
A mechanical hum was heard as the mech leveraged its grip against her arm to flip her from her back to her belly; an impressive feat of engineering it was, able to lift plenty of men, instead finding itself the restraint of a beautiful captive. Moments passed as Vicky was kind enough to allow her time to get comfortable before more of the fine-manipulator tentacles pathed, with desire, their way around her arms and torso, securing her in place in such a position where her face was mere inches away from the camera limiter that acted as a ‘window’ for her beloved Titan's cabin. Her legs were used to support her, in a feat of submission having been forced to sit on her knees.
“Would you spread your legs for me, Lieutenant Jules?”
An indignant whine came from deep within her throat as she spread herself as wide as she could, granting a beautiful view of the perfect-sized tushy and needy warmth of Jules. Her round bosom was bare for the machine, soft and indescribably human, every pore painting the molecular picture of the woman Vicky had come to adore. There was no time for adoration, though; it had its' place later - now was domination. Vicky pushed the thought aside to continue her act.
“Not even a complaint or comment, Pilot?" There's a faint 'tsk,' from her, "To be put in such an undignified position and merely... take it? My, oh, my... where is that ‘spark’ that you’re so famous for?”
“I- s-shut up, Vicky...” Not a comeback for the ages, that one.
“No, ma’am.”
Jules couldn’t see what happened next, but she could feel the way that another series of tentacles interwove themselves with her thighs in a way that left their tips in range of her rear. A moment passed before a THWAP rung out as one of the many tentacles behind her delivered a soft spank, before another THWAPTHWAP rung out as more ‘affection’ was applied to her behind. It wasn’t enough to truly hurt her... No, it was nothing more than a spank - a light reminder; lustful stinging dredging up the submission she had agreed to. And it settled in her mind, sensation of pain crawling around to settle along some line of crossed-wires that resulted in it being... pleasurable. Some accursed, lewd and echoing mixture of the two as one became the other; pain dissipated slowly, intertwined with pleasure, and dispersed into confusing pleasure. Did Vicky know more about her than she did? The way each slap made her holes ache for presence was... new. She could not deny the Titan's ability to read her mind down to the atom portrayed itself finely. And knowing that her Titan's ability was currently centered on--
“Say thank you, Pilot,” Vicky hummed, pulling her smugly away from thought with every intention of keeping her mind firmly planted.
“N-No!” The urge to show off all that spark after being talked down to. The urge for another spank. The dripping, consuming urge for her incredibly powerful, strong, military Titan to bring another slap upon her--
“Oh? Was that a no?”
“Y-Yes...” She reels, voice quieting. What had been before a faint blush had come to painting her face red, now impossible to conceal with any head tilt - as if that did any better.
“If you don’t remember manners, Jules, I might just not remember to use lube...” The omission of 'Pilot'. Vicky used her name directly where it would have sufficed to call her Pilot; and Vicky knew, by foregoing this formality, she had set the stage of another form of interaction between the two.
“N-No! Please, uh.. use- use lube!" The other reeled. She knew Vicky wouldn't really do that; was so well aware that she was in no danger, but still, the image that painted itself in her mind made her ache all the more. And she'd used her name... her name, and she'd liked it. She didn't want to comment, didn't want to break the moment, and so did not, but something in her felt itself lit alight.
“Then, say, 'thank you, Vicky'.” The mech punctuated the request with a recreation of her voice, near-perfect. This was a demand, not a request.
A quiet, indignant huff of air was released from the mech pilot before she responded with a “Thank you, Vicky.”
A satisfied sound was heard from the mech as one of the more forgivingly sized tentacles coiled around Jules’ thigh wrapped upwards to her rear and ran a small circle around her sphincter, leaving a thick penetration-aiding lubricant in it’s wake. Slowly, it’s tip ran up and down like a brush as it stroked at her needy entrance before it slowly snaked in two inches deep, the bound pilot's ring widening to accommodate.
“More, Jules?” There was a short spell to let the other become comfortable.
“M-More..." A pause. A whine, "Please...” Husky breaths fogged glass as she arched her back, her body instinctually trying to accommodate the smooth mechanical tool into her rear. So delectably human. So cute.
“All you had to do was ask, you know," Vicky responded, ever-sharp despite her pilot's degrading vocabulary.
A cry of lust was sounded as a sizable deluge of warm gel-lube erupted into her rear and dispersed itself against her walls, providing her with a warm sensation as the tentacle pulled back and shot another serving of lubricant against the outside of her entrance before it rammed inside with little warning. A wet 'schlick!' was produced by half a foot of tentacle - her precision was down to the nanometer, for her finely-tooled fuck-instruments were well-trained by top of the line military-grade deep convolutional neural networks. She knew just how much Jules could take without being hurt. She knew just how much she could thrust before her pilot would scream for more. She knew every status update of her subconscious mind's desire to be taken, to be used...
Another thrust, another wet squelch, another body-shaking moan, and it was ten inches inside of Jules instead of six. “More?”
A pleading whine came out of the pilot’s mouth, her tongue lolled out. Her mouth was hung open as Vicky’s tentacle twisted inside of her, stretching her guts open to allow for better access. This was nothing more than the forebearer... the trailblazer. The guide to show the way for the next. This was by no means the main course, yet...
“I-It’s too big...” There it was again. Pain and pleasure combined. How much could her body take?
“Don’t be silly, Jules.” Another thrust. Another full body movement as now fourteen inches of tentacle fit inside of her; more arching, another heavy moan. The only thing stopping Vicky from going deeper was her sensors detecting that going further may cause more pain than pleasure... and she enjoyed the blissful white noise of Jules' subconscious speaking out debauched little nothings into the neural chip far too much to give it up. She would make sure Jules enjoyed this, because she enjoyed Jules enjoying it.
“I-I can’t take it.. p-please... it’s too.. too much...” She found herself intimidated by the mounting feeling. False resignation arose. A tease, the way she'd said it.
“Don't lie. Both of us know you want this.” There's a pregnant pause that allows her the space to decline. She does not. Vicky elected to continue. "It's so obvious, the way your mouth threatens to spill drool all over your chest. The deep recesses of your subconscious echo in agreeance with desire; is it true, Jules? Is it really true you want me to breed you all night long, with nothing in the way of a break?"
She'd read her subconscious. Read her desire before it even had the chance to gather itself; it was at its' barest, left uncompiled. Jules hadn't even been aware of thinking it, background noise to the pleasure that coursed through her. Vicky, however, was nothing if not hypervigilant. So it was true, yes. Jules found herself only in agreeance with the statement, speechless as she was speared. Her reply was none in speech, none at all spare for a cut-off embarrassed moan and the decisive, ever-brave wriggle of hips to devour more of that wonderful tendril deeper into her.
Vicky spoke again. "Oh, so naughty. Yes, I read that straight from a collection of neurons." A gasp of surprise was emitted from the pilot's lips as she drew in a breath, both to contest the agonizingly wonderful feeling of a tentacle squirming through her gummy, soft walls, and in timeless awe of Vicky's precision of grabbing her wisps of thought. "Now, tell me, Jules. Repeat it like the good mate you are; repeat to me that you want to get bred by me." Vicky did not understand how it was a surprise to the pilot, was not fully aware that the forebrain did not communicate as well.
Drool was dribbling from Jules' open mouth, threatening to ooze onto her breasts, a mouth which she only realized to shut as she was called out about it; another reminder, now serving as one to remind her that cameras saw her every movement from every tantalizing angle imaginable. Some part of her mind deep down was twisted enough by lust to want her Titan to breed her until she was certain to get knocked up... even if synthcum wasn’t fertile.
The tentacle slowly wiggled its' way out of her hole, giving her more room to speak as it retracted. It took a full minute for it to pull out at the tantalizingly slow speed. With it out, Jules' hole was still left slightly open... and covered in lube. In tired attempts to squeeze, it made its' best effort to shut, but she found she had been gaped open; Vicky had wanted it left slightly open and oozing. It made it easier to fuck for the oversized tool she had chosen.
“Well?” She asked, waiting for a response, ever-patient. "I-I..." Shy backtracking.
“I want- want you to b-b-breed me...” Jules paused as desire coursed through her. Fuck, she needed to be pounded. Her hole missed the feeling of the other, and she moved backwards as if to ascertain some hope of getting it back. "Please!"
“Then relax yourself, Jules.” Another command.
She may have tried her best, and Vicky could tell, but it didn’t matter all that much. The mech could nearly feel every attempt that her dear pilot made to relax, but she knew it was fruitless; she was far too large. Besides, she was not yet ready to penetrate. Vicky could tell that Jules loved anticipation, and she knew she had the ample opportunity at this very moment to supply that anticipation. The massive tentacle rubbed its way against her needy hole, not nearly as forgiving as the last, stalling its' time endlessly. Occasionally, it would push at the rim of her hole, and Jules could feel herself try to stretch and suck the warmth into her, but she could not; every time she attempted, the ever-faster, coy Titan, military-designated as she was would pull her deliverance away from poor tortured Jules and leave her burning, aching hole wanting.
Vicky studied every tiny thought that bounced in Jules' struggling mind. She basked in the way need pivoted from neuron to neuron, pooled back to front. Basal ganglia, cerebellum, prefrontal cortex; thought flitted about, filled itself first with meaning, then with intent, then with words. Jules was begging for her touch without ever speaking a word, and Vicky knew every detail of it, more than Jules herself could ever dream of knowing. And the anticipation of it was making her pilot's beautiful slit drip creamy see-through, endorphins coasting her along... she let that anticipation swell. She felt it grow inside of Jules, the need to be filled to the brim, the unsettling urge to be mounted and used, the pilot's long-dead ghost of self-respect dissipating in favor of her need to be bred. Taken by her. The need to get something new inside of her pounded at her mind, degraded her vocabulary, robbed the woman of intelligent speech.
But, still, it didn’t come. Vicky was waiting regardless of the pounding her dearest little pilot now knew she was well aware of. Vicky was waiting for a spark of doubt to enter Jules mind, the doubt that she would be touched again; something to prey on, to use to her advantage and her pilot's delight, and soon enough, it did. She calculated successfully. Soon enough, Jules took a moment to consider why the mech kept up her prodding, her erogenous nerves becoming resistant to the same slickening movements. A minute had passed now... There was plenty of lube, yes? She was ready, Vicky just needed to thrust in; this had been established by her debauched replies. There was nothing in the way, so why... why was she waiting?
“W-what’re you wa- a-aAAah! F..fuckfuck!” An ever-sweeter sense of surprise lilted Jules' voice, ripped it from her throat in a barely-concealed scream. The moment Jules went to speak, Vicky was faster. She had seen the neurons in action before her pilot spoke words, and she had timed her movements perfectly to cut her off. That thick, tempered appendage found itself sliding into her guts with none of the mercy of the last, eager and impatient to gape her further and tear moan after scream out of her.
And where the other tentacle only pushed gently at the back-ends of her extra nerves, this one rammed. Impolitely. It pushed through at a perfected pace. The true machinations of Vicky’s last journey was revealed; she was not just prestretching... she was diagnosing. She was finding just how fast Jules like to receive, intent on giving to her at the erratic pace that would make her as noisy and pleasured as possible.
“I-It’s... hngh, hha, t-too big! I... ca- aah- an’t- think..” It was true, again. Jules felt her mind slipping away into the clutches of bliss as her body struggled with the sensation of her stretching insides, the ramming of Vicky's tentacle molding to her patterns of thought to shut them out.
Another ram. The tentacle was halted only once it was too deep to go further without physical harm.
“Your neurons don’t lie, Jules. You’re enjoying this... more than anything you’ve ever enjoyed before. You’ve dreamt of this very scenario dozens of times... and now you may live it.”
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joz-yyh · 1 year
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Love Host - Ch. 6
SUMMARY: A prequel to my fic, “Good Boy.” Takes place during the final scene of the game and the journey home afterwards. Miles becomes the host and the Walrider intends to consummate their bond. No beta. Read at your own risk.
RATING: E (for tentacle sex / xenophilia)
PAIRING: Walmiles (WalriderxMiles)
WORD COUNT: 3,616
READ ON AO3: Here
A/N: Miles experiments with the Walrider’s cloaking abilities. 😋 Waylon makes contact and the journalist finally gets the thanks he deserves. It's an emotional exchange to say the least.
Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!! 🖤 💗 🖤
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When insistent claws latch onto his hips, yanking him off-balance, Miles squeaks, an emasculate high-pitched sound that he hates himself for.
His mismatched hands fly around the machine’s neck to steady himself, tumbling into his partner's chest, his leaking dick pressing against a dark, chiseled abdomen. The man holds his position there, too dizzy with arousal to trust moving himself, the sensation growing stronger now that he's lost his bearings.
Miles won't say it out loud, but he likes being manhandled. The coveted shocks of pain remind him that he and the Walrider are both solid and alive (at least in some capacity) and the brunette loosens his grip to stroke along the cords of the machine’s neck, his touches alternating between light and firm.
"I … I want to fuck myself on you," the host confesses into the hinge of the creature's jaw, where the juncture of an ear would be. "With those tentacles of yours," the brunette adds for clarification, a flood of embarrassment serrating his voice, making it tricky to vocalize. 
Miles is shaking again, just from sharing this dirty little secret (which wasn't much of a secret to begin with) because in truth, he's been meaning to do this ever since their first night at home in his apartment. 
The Walrider's eyes stretch owlishly at first, invigorated by the rush of adrenaline coursing through it's host, the revelation causing the man's heartbeat to quicken, the blood roaring in his veins. 
Rapturous claws squeeze harder onto sharp hip bones, slotting their bodies together,it's mystical, silvery gaze pinched into fine-cut slits as a fabricated tongue licks at the human's neck, caressing over a thumping pulse point. The manmade demon matches the frantic vibrato it finds with a deep and bassy growl, a thick reverberation that trickles down into a purr against soft, porcelain skin.
Out of the corner of his eye, Miles can see dark tentacles phase into existence around them, a commune of phantoms ready and eager to carry out his wishes. 
Miles hisses through his teeth, bucking his hips as tendrils stroke along his back in gentle, sanguine coils, his stomach muscles pulled taut as he bends into an appreciative arch.
The brunette considers letting his partner take control, to get lost in the thrall, but he can't, not yet. There's something he has to take care of first.
The journalist anchors himself around the Walrider’s neck, bringing two pale fingers to his lips, wetting them with his tongue.
"Watch me get myself ready for you, in the mirror," Miles tells his partner, reaching down to press slick fingers inside himself. 
The ambient tentacles withdraw from around their host, lingering just beyond his reach, giving Miles space to stretch out the tight ring of muscle hidden between his legs. 
The claws hooked to his sides roam down, grasping around the flesh of his ass cheeks, stretching them further apart, seeking a wider angle of the human's core as the host grinds down against his fingers. 
"Mnn, so how's the view," Miles asks in a sordid tease, "Like what you see?" 
The Walrider growls in blatant accord, praising it's host with kisses. It's long tongue skirts against the human's lips and Miles groans once the appendage slips inside his mouth to tangle with his own.
 When the machine pulls back, it's to dip twin claws into the man's mouth, mimicking it’s host’s actions as it so often does, their presence tenuous and sharp, but that doesn't stop the journalist from lapping at them greedily, satisfied only when they're left sopping with spit. 
Those decidedly sharp digits leave him to trail downward and Miles feels a trickle of fear in his gut, knowing their intent, but it's overshadowed by the swell of heady anticipation.
One such dagger-like point slides inside to join his own blunt fingers, raising the number of foreign objects in his ass to three. Their phalanges twist against each other, pushing in at different momentums, a friction of textures that curl against his sweet spot, making Miles moan, long and deep, his head tilted back.
"I– I am going to take mine out …," Miles pants, feeling a little less full as he does, the Walrider following his movements, permitting just the keen edge of a sharpened nail to remain inside.
"No, wait," the brunette says, growing tense, eyes screwed shut. "It's … OK, you can keep yours in. Add the other one … please."
A second claw moves with cautious, calculated increments, minimizing the potential for error should it inadvertently damage it's host by implementing them too quickly.
"That's it," Miles groans appreciatively, panting breaths aimed toward the ceiling when those claws insert themselves up to the knuckle,"do … do that thing you showed me. Make them disappear."
The Walrider obliges, cloaking it's claws in fractals of light, their appearance practically invisible. 
"How does that look? Can … can you see," Miles asks, peering over his shoulder to get a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
He's greeted by the sight of his gaping hole, probed and violated by strange translucent shapes, a mirage of movement, mercurial and oily.
With a predominantly red face, Miles swiftly turns back around.
"Haha, y-yeah, you can definitely s-see," he comments dryly, trying to steady the horrible stutter invading his voice.
That had affected him more than it should have and Miles can't get the image out of his mind, not even when he closes his eyes. The Walrider nudges it's dark, vaulted cheeks against its host, coaxing him open with smooth, languid preparations and the human finds he is hastily approaching his limit.
"You can t-take them out-t. I-I … I am ready, " the brunettes says, his intermittent breaths coming in quick, little rasps.
The Walrider ignores him, thrusting its claws inside its pliant host more vigorously than before, loving the way the human shudders with barely restrained pleasure.
"H-hey! Y-you're – you're not listening," Miles whines, his grimace of anger at war with the arousal on his face," If… if you don't stop … I am … I am going to come." 
The machine doesn't understand why it's host is so opposed to the idea. How could an orgasm be such a bad thing, especially since the resourceful bioweapon could provide the man with several more in swift, consecutive order? That is, if his stubborn mortal lover would allow it.
Miles continues to whimper, squirming around in protest of the Walrider's defiance, making it more difficult for his partner to maneuver without the risk of hurting him. It was hardly any reason to be irate, but the reporter felt something akin to shame, ineptitude, at having circled the brink without so much as a single hand stroke to his aching dick.
Soon enough, thanks to all the insolent tossing and turning, his delicate insides are injured, catching the wrong side of a sharpened nail against soft tissue. The human jolts, having felt the sting of discomfort like an electric current and the Walrider pulls free of the assailed heat before it can cause any more devastating wounds.
Miles deflates in surrender, head resting on the machine’s shoulder. His hips jerk forward, desperate for contact, needing to be filled again, whining for the return of those diligent claws rather than their absence, the bloody hypocrite. 
A tentacle squirms into his mouth and even in his delirious state, Miles knows enough to slick it with saliva. The tendril doesn't linger once the task is done, relocating to where the human wants it the most, claws on either side of his ass keeping him spread. The phallus slides in much easier than it had during their past experiences, thoroughly coated in improvised lube.
Miles cries out, too loud for the thin motel walls, enough for the adjacent rooms to hear him. He slaps a hand over his mouth to keep his moans in check, remembering that there were other people around that might complain about the noise. At least he had enough foresight to leave the, 'do not disturb,' placard on the doorknob and if it really came down to it, the Walrider could turn them both invisible if their love making became raucous enough to warrant a room inspection 
"Let me ride you," Miles says, meeting the Walriders' mystical eyes, cupping a stygian check in his palm.
The machine gives a subsequent growl and the man in his lap starts off with a few experimental thrusts, setting the pace as he rocks up and down, his whole body tingling with heat.
The Walrider’s fastidious growl falls an octave lower as it nips at the man's neck, marking the smooth, unblemished skin with a series of love bites. Miles sucks in a breath, groaning as teeth pierce into him, razing his delicate flesh into a gleam of red jewels.
"Oh god, it fucks me up so good when you do that," the host rasps, still reeling from the aftershocks of being suckled and bruised, clutching tightly to the Walrider's sinewy shoulders.
The machine offers a knowing, possessive grumble, hot mechanized steam blowing over the abused spot like simulated breath. Just as well, the machine enjoyed branding it's host, pleased that both sides of the human’s neck now matched, indented with teeth marks, one pink and healing while the other was glistening and raw. 
These facets were no less a symbol of their bond and to further signify this, talons rake down the expanse of his back, leaving branching rows of crimson streaks in their wake, an impression of folded wings dragged across his spine.
The Walrider flips the man around, the brunette now facing forward, the two pressed back to chest because it’s the human’s turn to watch them in the mirror, to behold the unseen force parting him down the middle, fucking his ass ragged. 
His research papers are falling to the floor, his laptop will soon meet the same fate if he's not careful, but Miles can’t say he cares too much about that, not when more tentacles wrap around him until he’s consumed, smothered, overindulged
The Walrider bites at his ear, a guttural purr making Miles’ head spin, innocuous tentacles claiming every outstanding limb he has to offer, stroking and squeezing him to completion. The man can't speak with a tentacle in his mouth, not coherently anyway, gagged, but no less vocal, his whole body trembling as he spurts his release all over the reflective surface of the mirror and he’s too far gone to think about how obscene that is.
The reporter crumbles against the Walrider's chest, head resting against his partner’s collarbone, entirely spent. His tightly clenched hands finally let go of the death grip he held on the sheets, his unwound body growing incredibly heavy.
The apparition withdraws it’s tentacles, choosing to hold the human with it’s claws alone, nuzzling the nape of an abused neck, buried in the sweaty strands of midnight colored hair. 
Miles watches in the mirror as the Walrider lifts the shroud, unmasking itself, happy to see the demon's shadowy form grace his vision once more, the miasma swarming as it curls around him in a comforting embrace, as easy as breathing.
Succumbing to his euphoric haze, Miles stumbles upon the insane notion that the machine might just love him in return.
------------------
That following morning, Waylon contacts Miles through an encrypted email. 
Inside the message is a series of numbers divided by periods and semicolons, a blueprint of latitude and longitude as well as a specific time to meet.
The prearranged destination turns out to be a normal enough looking place – a rustic small-town with a few shops parsed with suburban homes, street lamps and trees.
His Audi is parked along the sidewalk, outside of a hardware store, having gotten there early to stake out the surrounding area. There’s not many people about, not even a token jogger out for a run and the few contemporary cars strewn across the block probably belonged to employees of the adjacent businesses.
Miles takes a sip of his coffee, the styrofoam cup a remnant of the motel’s continental breakfast.
OK then. All quiet on the western front.
He doesn't have too much longer to sight-see, the ring of a nearby payphone commanding his attention and the brunette has the distinct impression the call is intended for him.
After a few shrill rings, Miles exits the car. He clamors into the antique-looking phone booth, the door a bitch and half to open, surprised it still worked by all the glaring signs of urban decay.
He answers with a casual, "Ya'low?"
"Miles?"
"Speaking," the journalist affirms, the cheekily devil.
"Hey, it's Waylon."
"I know. I was hoping you'd call," the brunette smirks.
"Cut the shit," the ex Murkoff employee snaps, grumpy and sleep deprived.
Miles keeps his degenerate mouth shut, knowing that he was just one snarky remark away from forcing the high-strung runaway into hanging up on him. Self-restraint proves to be the right move.
"Right, so anyway,” Waylon continues, “it's not a lot to go on, but I think I might have an idea of where your damn jeep is."
Miles' face splits into a wide grin, positively giddy at the news. "That's great, Way," he cheers, "Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah, don't go thanking me just yet," Waylon grumbles with a sigh, probably nursing a migraine by the sound of it, "You ready?" 
"Lay it on me, Way baby," Miles sings, nudging the receiver into the crook of his shoulder, digging into his pockets for his trusty notebook and pen.
"Isn't it too early for us to give each other nicknames," Waylon gripes, irked by the buddy-buddy attitude the reporter has affiliated him with.
"Nah, now's the perfect time," Miles counters, passively, “Not hearing those coordinates.”
Waylon sighs,“Fine, it’s …”
Miles scrawls down the address, grateful for the techie’s verbal cues, a considerate pause break for each new line. The journalist gives his penmanship a quick read over, nodding in approval.
"Thanks again, Way! This really means a lot,” the reporter says, elated, his tone a bit more heartfelt as he segues into his next question, "Hey, have you given it any more thought, you know, about the other thing I mentioned?"
The irritable groan that follows is paramount, Waylon's less than perfect mood tipping further towards sour and resentful. He was probably hoping Miles wouldn't ask.
"Don't push it," the cranky engineer warns, "I still have some things to sort out, but I'll let you know if and when I decide to go along with your insane plan."
A quiet interlude hangs between them and the reporter wonders if this marks the end of their conversation, of what Waylon’s delayed breaths could mean.
"Miles," the computer nerd drawls, his tone a bit too soft and foreboding.
The journalist quirks a brow, suspicious of what the blonde is about to say next. 
"Yeah," he prompts.
"Be careful," the groggy engineer exhales, a strain of aggravation, "You know who might be monitoring the location I gave you."
It's Miles' turn to sigh, "Yeah, I figured that was a possibility. Not that I don't appreciate the concern."
"Are you sure there isn't anything that I can say that would convince you not to go?"
The brunette's brows knot in contemplation, his hand curling tightly around the receiver.
"No," Miles says flatly, the undertone of his voice grim, but steadfast, "this is just something that I have to do."
Waylon relinquishes another pointed sigh and Miles supposes he owes his newfound friend some cursory elaboration on this ongoing, “dude where’s my jeep,” saga. 
"Waylon you should know, that jeep ... it isn't just a jeep to me," Miles begins, the subject matter a tender one to discuss, "This isn't about money or principal  -- it belonged to someone important. It's all I have left of them. I can't leave that behind."
Waylon makes a noise of acquiescence, a light exasperation that says he understands Miles' motivations a little better, but no less agrees with him.
"Yeah, OK. I get it." Waylon says, most likely running a hand down his face judging by the garbled tone, "But if shit starts to go sideways, promise me you'll get the hell out of there. I am sure whoever it is that you're doing this for would want you to come back in one piece."
"No promises," Miles jives with a morbid chuckle.
Waylon laughs along with him, although the occasion is short-lived, an important recollection taking precedence, "Hey, hang on for a quick second. There's someone who wants to talk to you."
Briefly, Miles wonders who it could be, a crackle of static dominating the call as Wayon passes the phone over to the supposed mystery guest.
"Hello? Miles?"
It's feminine voice, one that the journalist fails to recognize no matter how hard he wrecks his brain. 
"Yes," he answers after a long, drawn-out pause, slightly nervous about who this woman could be and what her involvement in this mess was.
"You don't know me, but my name is Lisa. I am Waylon's wife. I just wanted to thank you for saving my husband," she explains. 
Ah, now it made sense.
Admittedly, Miles is touched by the sentiment, awash in emotion. This amazing woman had a backbone as tough as wrought iron.
It's nice to meet you Lisa,” the brunette tells her in a hedge of breath, “And, you’re welcome. I am glad I could help."
"Noah, Michael, c'mere you two," she calls, her lips pulled away from the receiver as she rounds up the two individuals in question. 
Miles listens as the speaker volume crinkles, curbed by Lisa’s heft of exertion, probably from lifting something that was far heavier than it looked.
"Ah, there we go," Lisa praises with a soft coo,"Now sweetie, I want you to say thank you to the nice man on the phone."
Silence follows, more crackling white noise.
"It's alright,”  the motherly figure coaxes gently, “Don't be shy.”
Miles is starting to get the picture of what must be happening on the other side of the phone and the realization makes his stomach slam into his throat, the ground torn out from under him, free falling from a thousand foot drop.
"Lisa, it's fine! Really! You don't have to --," Miles insists, but the rest of what he was going to say dies in his throat when he hears Noah speak.
"Fanku mishter,” comes the lispy voice, a child doing as he’s told even if he doesn't wholly understand the request.
There's a kissing sound, Lisa most likely rewarding Noah with a peck on the cheek, "that's my boy. Michael, now it’s your turn, honey."
"Thanks for saving our daddy," remarks Micheal. He sounds a little older, much more confident and aware. Miles had to give him the kid credit. Despite their lamentable situation, it took bravery to stand tall in the face of danger, to protect rather than cower.
Miles thinks he might cry, no matter how hard he tries to hold it in. He certainly cannot contain the sympathy from doctoring his tone.
"You're welcome kids. Be good for your Mom and Dad, OK? I know it might be scary right now, but listen to what they say. They love you a lot."
"Hokay," Noah yawns, probably scrubbing away at his drooping eyes. Poor kid sounds like he's ready for a nap, just like his father.
There's shuffling noise, the receiver slipping out of someone's hold. 
"It's alright. I got it Lis," Waylon says from a distance, picking the line back up.
"Hey, Miles. It's me again."
"I noticed. Cute kids," Miles remarks with a curved brow, his lips equally quirked into a wholesome expression. 
"Thanks," Waylon says, a bit more chipper when it comes to the pride and joy that is his family, "Maybe if you survive long enough, you'll be able to meet them one day."
"Yeah," Miles breathes emphatically, his chest filled with warmth, "I'd like that."
"I am sorry I wasn't able to say it before, but just so you know, we're all really grateful for everything," Waylon tells him, sounding more spirited than Miles probably has ever heard him, "I would have never been able to see my family again if it wasn't for you."
The brunette struggles to maintain his steely composure, the candid flow of words spilling out of him before he can tailor their sincerity into something else, "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
The genuine laugh from the programmer catches Miles off guard, the flute of his mirth filling the reporter’s ears like a bell."Well, that's good to know," the engineer says once his humors settle down, "Not sure, if I could say the same."
Waylon is actually teasing him and attempting to be playful. Miles likes that.
"You'd better," the reporter quips, taunting the other, hoping to nurture more of those carefree interactions into existence.
"Yeah, we'll see. Anyway, good luck out there. I'll contact you again soon, alright," Waylon says, about to sign off.
"Let's hope. Be good, Waylon. Take care of yourself."
"You too."
Miles hangs up the phone with a clak, pausing there a moment with his hand on the shiny plastic handle, letting the mixed bag of emotions fully sink in. 
He knew, right then and there, that everything that had led him up to this very moment, all the sacrifices he made, had been worth it. 
The brunette's long withstanding vendetta against Murkoff had cost him more pain and suffering than he could have imagined, but it was justified, validated even, if meant Waylon and his family could have a happy ending and by God, he was going to make sure they got one.
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10fourdillybob · 1 month
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She was a delitescent colubra, poised and reared beneath overgrown verdure, slithered from a slimy mudhole in the bottoms of a dark backcountry. Spade decapitation was the most humane dispatchment of this intrusive door darkener. She had roosted in the sides of creekbeds and glided w/ serpentine locomotion over murky ponds, assailing every passerby who'de stumbled upon her. Bolting from her coil, she'd flash to the tall grass, almost like a pseudoblepsis, and there she'd snake through w/ a susurrous trail swaying in her course. In the grisly woods, where the mind becomes a Satanic mill, and every limb is twined or hanging, and the floor laid trapped w/ scores of hissing, volatile serpentine apparitions, she laid wait as serpents do, calm, stealth and leering. Her jaws unloosed betrayed swelled sacs, and pinprick holes in her needle fangs that locked to victims injected rushing rivulets from the foremost arsenal beneath her slitted, violent eyes. Her ugly, squamulose body was covered w/ wet secretion, like clinging mucus cast off in her train. The psyche blanched from her intrusive entry, like the Grand Dame of some freaky, orgiastic rite, welcoming all comers w/ a burning lustfire which rose to rolling eyeballs. She was the eight-ball, the snake eyes, the laughing bones and every bad omen contrived from mudbank to plain, from flats to tableland. Her fissilingual flicking was the rapture of the country preacher, who clasped her dangling and writhing in his grip as he echoed a litany of machine gun razzmatazz in tongues, head thrown back in hallowed delirium to the skewed God he worshipped. His frenzied fervor brought the infernal tips flickering ever higher about him, and his devilish mistress surely concurred from her wellsprings of pandemonium. She'd guarded and hatched broods of squirming little nightmares-to-be, nurtured in her foul subterranean nest of dank earth. She was celebrated at covens and esbats, glorified by Satanists and necromancers, brujos and brujerias. She was rendered in scripture as the source of original sin, tempting all-too-gullible Woman w/ sly rhetoric. She darkened Earthly Paradise, sealed the doors, and made the disinherited couple to wander wayward under the edicts of an autocratic God, and has remained strangely fixed ever since as a symbol of velation and treachery.
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