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#cyberratting writes stuff
cyberrat · 5 days
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81st Batch Of Fics: 9th Fill
Husk/Angel – Part 2/2 – gentle dom/sub; dom!Husk; sub!Angel; learning to let go/get into subspace – Angel actually experiencing a first? That's fun :o
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Husk is eating him out. Again. And somehow it is even better than last time.
This time, Angel is on his back – something he is very familiar with – and doesn’t have to do anything other than let Husk play with his body. Something that is also not uncommon. But the way he does it… the way he just keeps licking him, slow and self-indulgent and humming while he is doing it like Angel is such a fucking treat-
It is driving him insane.
He keeps licking at him until he’s somehow had his fill and then he lifts up and just stares at Angel until Angel looks back down. He feels like his eyes are huge and wild in his skull. Like he must look absolutely insane. His upper hands are pressed against his mouth, trying to muffle any sounds that keep wanting to spill out of him.
Husk is smiling crookedly. The fur on his chin is soaked and glittering with pearlescent fluid. Angel stares at it, his hands slowly falling away without him noticing. His mouth his hanging open and his tongue is rolling out onto his own chin.
Maybe Husk sees it as the invitation that it is – or he just knows what Angel needs without having to be told. But he crawls up Angel’s body and plunges him in darkness as his wings blot out the light.
A moment later, they are kissing. Slow and indulgent. Angel’s arms curl around the tomcat, holding on to him like a vice. His tongue wants to do all kinds of acrobatics, but Husk gentles him down until it’s just the painfully slow drag of them rubbing against each other.
Angel’s whole body throbs. His knees are around Husk’s hips, unwittingly hindering himself from rubbing his thighs together.
He’s getting absolutely useless. He can feel his last brain cells and how they slowly stop working just because Husk is taking everything at a glacially slow pace.
Husk is kneeling above him, his paws on Angel’s ribcage between his first and second set of arms, and slowly sliding up. Over his armpits and the underside of Angel’s upper arms. The sensation is so eerily intimate, it makes Angel gasp into the kiss, head falling back while his tongue is still out, obediently offering it up to Husk.
They stare at each other as Husk gently pushes his upper arms up to above his head.
“Are you feeling good?” Husk asks him in that low rumble.
Angel nods slowly, his head swimming – but this time it seems to not be enough for Husk. “Use your words,” he orders, his voice so gentle that it takes all the sting that the command might have carried.
Angel feels… odd. Like the bed is slowly opening up beneath him and starting to swallow him up. He is feeling both lighter and heavier than he ever has. A voice answers is a hushed little “Like it” and it takes him a while to realize that it’s been his own.
“Good boy,” Husk’s voice says in the slowly encroaching darkness.
Angel’s eyes are open and he is seeing, but he is not registering anything. He is both inside his body and outside. Feeling Husk carding claws through his chest fluff and lightly tugging on it, and also thinking that that is something that is happening to someone else.
Everything is warm and prickly and good. He is calm. He’s calmer than he’s ever been. As a demon. A human. A good-for-nothing whore.
“That’s it… you’re being so good for me,” Husk’s voice whispers. His claws are carding through the fur on Angel’s belly, following the pink line down to his abdomen. “You’re perfect like this. Looking like a million bucks.”
Does he? Does he really? Angel is staring up at the ceiling, his upper arms obediently still above his head without any need to hold him down. Husk is… somewhere. Everywhere. He’s started purring and it is almost too much for Angel to handle. It thrums through his body and vibrates behind his eyeballs until he has to close them. He’s drooling and his whole body is throbbing with the need to come.
“Do you know what good boys get?” Husk’s voice answers. It’s so deep and silky and perfect. It wraps Angel up like a damn blanket. He can’t wrap his head around how that is even possible. He opens his mouth a bit wider but all that comes out is a pathetic little whimper.
He feels so shy all of a sudden; all the bluster has been stripped away in just a few short moments, leaving him open and raw like a nerve.
Husk doesn’t say any more, though. His movements have stopped as well, hands framing Angel’s hips and thumbs gently stretching his posterior hole open without touching his rim. He is waiting for an answer.
Angel somehow unclenches one of his lower arms from the bedding and puts his hand up against his mouth. He doesn’t know… he doesn’t… “I don’t know,” he whispers.
“Hmmmn… good boys get all they’ve been gagging for for days,” Husk explains patiently. His breath is tickling Angel’s little spider cock. “They get the orgasm they’ve been fiending for. They get taken care of, like they’ve been desperate for the whole time.”
That rough tongue is back against Angel’s dick, curling around it, bathing it in warm saliva before it is enveloped by the warmth of Husk’s mouth.
He’s so careful with his sharp teeth… he’s so slow and indulgent, sucking the pre-cum out of Angel and opening his mouth to let the copious amount of fluid run down to his posterior hole.
Angel feels like he is dying again… but it feels good. Two claw like fingers slide into his hole while he is getting sucked off, and everything… everything is just so good. So warm and tight and wet and good.
He arches his back, sucking on his own fingers for comfort, limbs moving restlessly… and the most heartfelt little exclamation he’s spoken in… decades, dripping from his mouth: “Oh, daddy- please-”
Husk’s voice is back; all crooning and deep. Calling him a good boy. To let daddy take care of him. That he’ll get everything he ever wanted if he just stays nice and real like he is now.
If he just lets Husk flay him open and look at everything he has to offer.
Angel muscles seize tight as he comes so hard that his ears are filled with static. He is vaguely aware of the warm pulsating feeling of cum shooting out of him and splattering against his belly before Husk can push his muzzle over it and drink it all up-
but it takes a backseat to the feeling of weightlessness. To the delicious pain of his aching, trembling muscles. To the curious emptiness of his head that feels so much more profound than the one he gets from his drugs.
He doesn’t immediately come down from the curious high he’s on, but that’s alright. Husk is there to take care of him. Making him feel nice and cozy and… safe.
He says something about ‘subspace’ later, but that doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like something Angel could achieve.
But fuck this feeling had been everything.
And… once again he got to get off with Husk without getting that goddamn cock inside him.
It’s going to drive him insane.
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adevillikeyou · 2 years
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1) im really really happy we're soon going to be able to read your regency fic. No pressure tho! The speed you're writing is incredible and also while writing other prompts?? I don't think many people could pull that off.
2) ever since I started reading your stuff it's become so hard trying to find other fics that don't feel lackluster in comparison. So, if you (or any of your followers) know any fic or author that you wanna recommend... I would like to know hahaha (published books also count lmao)
Thanks! I used to write with this much frequency way back in college-- even more so because I was also getting my minor in creative writing, so I was making pieces for school all the time while also doing it as a hobby-- but I haven't gotten anywhere close to that pace since. And I don't feel like it's a necessity, I would certainly never want to push myself to make it happen, but it's so nice to feel this... full of ideas and energy I suppose? I don't know if it's gonna stick around after I finish this fic, but I would really like it to. I would love to be able to continue to have this output that is longer fics that take more time to come out with my prompts as little snacks for all of my readers in between. Only time will tell I suppose!
Ah, that's so sweet of you! I'm always thrilled when someone really resonates with my style because I know it's definitely not to everyone's taste and not the most easily digestible way to write things. Especially where I think a lot of fanfiction is catered towards being a little more approachable and bite sized and just fun to consume than full on published fiction. But I wouldn't really change anything about my style at this point, besides areas I'm working to get more comfortable with, and I'm really glad that it works for people.
All of the fanfic authors I would recommend don't particularly upload anymore, or at least not with fandoms that I have kept up on or wanted to engage with. So I don't know that I would have anyone in that arena to suggest, besides of course our lovely @dirtyknots who gives us delicious food every time they post. Filthypeanuts is out of the game and I think all their stuff was kind of nuked. I think cyberrat is still around, but does mostly OW stuff? But ya, most everyone from my era is out of the game or on to other things.
As far as published authors go though, I can throw some names in the ring. Of course Maggie Stiefvater would come as no surprise. The Raven Cycle and its sequel series are hugely inspiring to me as a writer. The prose is so decadent and smokey and the way she weaves her magical realism just hits that southern gothic humidity so well. And she's just a really cool person. I went to a reading/book signing of hers with some friends and ate up every second of it.
I really love TJ Klune's works. The books overall can be hits or misses for me, but he does supernatural romance in the way that I would want to if I could make a career of it. I'm really behind on his stuff and haven't read a lot of the sequels to his hallmark series, but The Lightning Struck Heart slays me, Wolfsong had me weeping at work in the middle of my shift, and Bear, Otter, and the Kid is one I go back to all the time. Honorable mentions: Into This River I Drown and Murmuration for being spell binding and concepts I would go to the mat for, even if I didn't think they stuck the landing.
David Levithan was a middle/high school obsession of mine and while I think going back to works of his like Boy Meets Boy or The Realm of Possibility that really hit with me might not ring as true now because they were such a product of their time, I'm always surprised to read his books and realize just how much of his writing mannerisms I picked up without realizing it.
A more recent read that wasn't necessarily one of my favorites, but that friends of mine really loved and that I think is in the ballpark of my more lyrical style of writing was This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. It's sci-fi lesbians and enemies to lovers and I think the prose is really pretty and it's a quick, quick read.
I'm not one to harp on classics too much and I don't think I'd suggest anything ground breaking, but ones that I have loved enough to go back to and find inspiration from are Jane Austen, Shakespeare, William Faulkner (As I Lay Dying is my fave), Beatnik era writers, etc.
Uhm... and then I guess I don't know if you're into games much, but I think there's a lot of good prose to be had there and there's been a lot of great ones as of late. Disco Elysium has terrific writing, I think any Supergiant game is stunning, but Bastion, Transistor, and certainly Pyre are a little more narrative focused than Hades.
Ooh, and if you love writing in games I would suggest to anyone to play Citizen Sleeper. It's probably gonna be my game of the year, you can finish it in sub ten hours I'm pretty sure, and it's just sumptuous in presentation and execution. It's all about being an artificial life form just trying to survive another day on a space station in the middle of nowhere and I could live in that space for forever.
So... hope that helps! If anyone else has any rec's feel free to drop them off.
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cyberrat · 18 days
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I want to see the first time Vox touched Valentino's antenna and got him horny instead of terrified. When Val's trust in Vox overpowered the memory of why he can't fly anymore.
Val has been stretching his wings out more and more, covering the both of them in a blanket. It‘s too hot, Vox‘ fans are starting to act up, but he‘s working on his phone and quite frankly he‘s been waiting for a moment like this since meeting Valentino in that rotten cellar:
Val lying on top of him, his head on Vox‘ chest, watching TV while Vox is working.
He‘s mostly quiet until suddenly gesturing languidly toward the screen with one of his arms.
„This porn is *shit*. I could do far better ones.“
Vox is immediately interested, a small spark flying between his antennae - though he keeps carefully staring at his phone.
„Oh yeah? It‘s not to your taste, I take it.“
„It‘s boring as fuck. They need whores with *personality*.“
Vox puts his free hand in Val‘s neck, scratching through the fluff there. „You got an eye for those, don‘t you?“
Valentino bristles, though only for a split second before he trills all flirtatious and submissive. „Sure, papi.“
Vox‘ hand stops briefly, then slides further up, one sharp claw rounding Valentino‘s fucked up antenna. „I could get you introduced at a few clubs. Let you see what they got to offer.“
Valentino doesn‘t answer. His languid posture has changed; Vox can feel the tension running through his long body.
He hesitates for a second before just going for it. This moment is as good as any to test some boundaries.
It‘s barely a touch as he brushes his fingertip along Valentino‘s antenna. The reaction to it is odd: a half gurgle, half trill; like Val is surprised at his body‘s own reaction.
He turns his head, chin on Vox‘ chest, staring up at him with those huge, glowing red eyes. For a fucked up demon he has no business looking this… cute.
There‘s a flush on his cheeks.
Vox pets his antenna again, watching the familiar expression of arousal relaxing Valentino‘s face, his tongue slithering out and curling around Vox‘ forearm like a hug.
He doesn‘t know why but for some reason tonight seems to be full of surprises.
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cyberrat · 6 days
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81st Batch Of Fics: 8th Fill
Husk/Angel – cont B80F2 – Part ½ – gentle dom/sub; dom!Husk; sub!Angel; learning to let go/get into subspace – Angel has trouble not slipping into a persona when he is getting nervous and excited. Husk helps him unwind.
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Husk is different than Angel had imagined. It occurs to him that he never really knew him until just recently. Like… he would never have thought that Husk would… be like this. Just look back at Angel trailing after him and extend a paw to invite him along.
Angel can feel his heart pounding faster. There’s a tremble going out to all his limbs, energy suddenly coursing through him.
“Oohh so you’re horny too, huh?” he asks with a huge grin.
Husk huffs half a laugh, glancing at him sideways. He only does a lazy ‘uh-huh’ hum, his paw steady around Angel’s trembling hands. He wants to gesticulate wildly but kind of temps down on it. Instead, his mouth is working overtime.
“I can be so good to you this time. Like really suck ya off. I could finger you too… Give ya a nice deep prostate massage. Make ya all boneless an’ shit.”
Husk unlocks his door and opens it, holding it for Angel like he’s some kind of dame. Angel gets inside, full of so much energy now that he feels his fur bristling and prickling uncomfortably against his clothes – so he starts undressing.
It only occurs to him when he’s hooking his thumbs into the elastic of his thong, that Husk hasn’t moved away from the door since closing it. The old tomcat is standing leaning against it, his thumb claws hooked into his suspenders, watching Angel with an odd expression.
“...What? You gettin’ second thoughts or somethin’? Come on, kitty-cat, it will be so good.”
There’s a bit of desperation creeping into his voice. The sudden thought that Husk might let him off after all makes Angel feel a bit frantic. People never reject the chance of a night with him, he has no idea how to handle it if Husk were to-
“I know it will be,” Husk replies easily, his deep voice rumbling through the room. He pushes away from the door and advances on Angel, extending one paw again and waiting for him to put a limp hand into it. “But you got to calm down. Why are you so jittery? …are you on drugs?”
“I…I… no. I ain’t.”
Angel hunches over a little as Husk walks past him and starts to lead him toward the bed. He follows along like a good little puppy, just staring at the back of the other demon’s head. He doesn’t know how to handle this. Husk being so… calm. For some reason he had thought he’d be flustered. Shy. Kind of virginal or some shit. Not like this. Easily commanding and oozing a calmness that envelops Angel and makes him breathe… something he had kind of forgotten to do in what feels like the past few minutes.
Husk comes to a stop in front of the bed. He turns around and peers up at Angel, another odd look on his face; deep and searching.
“Do you want to play?”
Angel exhales roughly. He can feel himself getting wet for this. “Yeah. Yeah I wanna play. Ya wanna be my daddy, Husky? Huh? Want me to be a naughty li’l-”
He’s cut off by a claw on his lips. Husk’s face is so serious that Angel can feel himself deflating, an odd feeling of… embarrassment crawling through his body.
“I can be your daddy, sure,” Husk says easily; like those words spoken with that voice from this particular demon aren’t sending Angel into a fucking cardiac arrest. “But you gotta be real with me for that. Okay? I’ll play with you all night long if you want to. But I want you to stop this little sex kitten act and be yourself. Can you do that?”
He takes his claw away again. Angel opens his mouth, then closes it, then says with a crack in his voice and his gaze sliding away to the side: “I…I dunno.”
Finally, Husk smiles. He squeezes the hands he got still in his paw. “That’s alright. We’ll just work on that. Can you lay down for me? …I want to take care of you tonight.”
Angel shudders with eager anticipation, his little spider cock starting to emerge from his hole and pressing against the front of his sheer underwear.
“Yeah…”
.o.
Angel hadn’t pegged – hah! – Husk as a talker after their last encounter, though admittedly, his muzzle had been quite preoccupied with other things at the time. Now, though, he seems to just not shut up.
That deep, sonorous voice keeps talking, washing over him just like the touches of his claws as they slide through his fur against the grain, making it lift up enough for the air of the room to tickle the skin underneath.
Do you like that? Is it okay if I touch you here? Will you sing if I do this?
At first Angel had still countered with a coquettish ‘oh, daddy~~~ you’re so good to li’l ol’ me…’ but when Husk curls his claws into the elastics of his panties and slowly peels them down his legs, commenting on the pearly pre-cum already sticking against them, Angel’s words start to die down.
He remembers the last time Husk has been so close to his crotch. That rough tongue lovingly lapping up the whole mess that so many demons had left inside him that night…
He makes a beeline for it now, too; though he is not quite touching yet. He’s more like… sniffing Angel, his breath ruffling the fur there and driving the other demon insane.
Angel must have whined or some other shit because Husk chuckles and croons: “You’re so sensitive here still… wouldn’t have thought that, to be honest.”
“I… I uh…” there are no smart replies flying around Angel’s head any longer. All he can focus on is the feeling of Husk’s voice right against his front hole and his emerged little spider cock.
“I like this… but I’ve never really had something like it to play,” Husk murmurs. It sounds like he’s more talking to himself but Angel is hanging on to every word he’s saying. His lower pair of hands is clutching at the sheets in desperation, while his upper pair is at his head, fingers sliding into his hair, looking for something to hold on to. To get that restless energy out while Husk is right there between his legs, inspecting him.
Staring at him up close. Taking his time to really look his fill and making it feel like he’s in no rush. No rush at all. He could spent hours just looking at Angel’s slippery holes and talking about how interesting they are. How much he adores them. How he wonders how Angel would react if he were to just-
And he does it. Just like that. Licking the underside of Angel’s small horn-like dick with such slow reverence that his feline tongue molds around it and all but envelops his cock.
He doesn’t even realize that he’s curled his long legs in a strangle hold around Husk’s head until he feels him carefully peeling his thighs apart with a low chuckle.
“Oh that is fun… yes, let’s play some more like that.”
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cyberrat · 26 days
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80th Batch Of Fics: 14th Fill
Alastor/Vox – Part 1/2 – shibari; degradation/humiliation kink – Alastor wants to make sure that Vox stops watching him at every turn, but he might just shoot himself in the foot with this one.
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“Where is he? Where the fuck is he?!” Vox slams his fist down on the keyboard, eyes frantically scanning the screens filling the wall.
They all show every single inch of the Pride ring in rapid succession, but one notable fucker is yet to be seen. He saw him leave the premises of that stupid, fucking hotel, but he vanished in the blink of an eye and has yet to reappear.
“Where are you, you slippery little-”
“Are you talking about me, per chance?”
Vox has only a split second to register that fuck awful old-timey, staticky voice before his world is upended, as black tendrils grab him and rip him into the air. White hot pain lances through him as panels along his body are pried open and delicate cables inside are ripped out into the open.
He can feel his face glitching out, a shrill whistling noise briefly filling his audio receptors as the pain overwhelms him for a moment.
When the flare up dies down and he manages to bring his surroundings back into focus, he’s hanging awkwardly, helplessly in the air, bound by his own cables. His information center around him is dead, not a single spark of electricity running through it. All the light in the immediate space is coming from his own face, wildly moving about and causing the shadows to dance as he tries to find his bearings.
All in all, the whole maneuver has taken maybe ten seconds at max. It was swift and smooth and so Alastor that it immediately brings his blood back to a boiling point.
Alastor.
That prick is standing an arm’s length away, fingers tapping jauntily on the crown of his cane and a satisfied smirk plastered across his face.
“How the… how the fuck did you get in here?!”
Alastor’s smile widens. It looks like it could split his goddamn head in two, which is not that bad of a look, to be honest. He takes a step closer, lifting his cane and putting it beneath Vox’ screen to tip it up a little.
“That is a good question, is it not? I think I will keep that little secret to myself. It is quite… useful if I need to talk to you. Like I do now. So prick up your… ears, I suppose, and listen up good, hmn?” He does not wait for an answer – which would have been filled full of rage and vitriol anyway – and continues: “I very much do not appreciate you snooping around behind me, my dear… friend.”
He speaks the word with such gusto that it makes Vox shiver. He tries to pull away from Alastor’s cane, but that only manages to make him lightly rock inside his own bindings, sending more shockwaves of pain through his systems.
“I do neither enjoy the feeling of your little zippy-zaps, nor do I like your eyes constantly on my person. It makes things a tad difficult. You have to understand that I am a busy person and do not have time to constantly play with you, yes?”
Vox grits his teeth, body feeling hot and prickly from the condescending tone Alastor has chosen to take with him. It is as if the asshole is talking to a damn child.
“I am going to crush you beneath my heel once I get my hands on you,” Vox hisses at him.
Alastor cocks his head, eyes briefly flicking over Vox’ person.
“What heel, my friend? You are quite exposed at the moment, I assure you.”
Vox halts at that. It takes him a moment to realize that Alastor is… right. What little clothes remain on his person are ripped to shreds, probably during the brief attack that had so thoroughly incapacitated him that he is in danger of blue screening from the sheer rage just thinking about it.
Vox looks at Alastor – and Alastor looks back at him, his head steadily starting to cock to the side yet again, heavy lidded eyes sliding from Vox’ face down along his body.
There’s a twitch in his brows and his sharp grin looks a little stiff as he says: “Forgive me for my ignorance, but this seems grossly unsuited for the current situation, does it not?”
Vox has no idea what he is talking about until he starts to extend his cane, his facial expression pinched and on the verge of downright disgusted. Vox knows what he is talking about just a split second before the end of his cane nudges his cock slightly.
He’s sporting a fat erection. Had been the whole morning during his search of this very fuckhead currently standing just a claw-swipe away.
Heat suffuses him and the faint smell of burning plastic starts to permeate the air.
Vox reacts in the only way he knows how: by aggressively pushing forward.
“Oh fuck you, you old timey piece of shit! Just because you can’t get it up anymore- I mean it’s not because of you, don’t get it fucking twisted, okay?! I’ve been pent up because Val’s been out and not putting out, and-”
“Disgusting. You really are excited right now, are you not?” Alastor’s voice is quiet. He speaks like he has not heard a word that Vox had said, his eyes still trained on the long, vaguely curved cock.
It’s one of Vox’ favorites; ribbed along the shaft and the tip glowing a cool blue ooze of pre-cum whenever he gets excited like he is now.
Vox hates his reaction go the asshole. How electricity fizzles through his body and he can feel a small glitch forming on his face. He turns his head away so Alastor wouldn’t see, but his voice his already beginning to get away from him.
“It’S noT bEcause of You!”
“Hm.” Alastor doesn’t say more, but there is so much in that derisive little sound, letting Vox know that he’s been way too fucking transparent, that he’s about to combust.
He begins to struggle again, trying to rip himself down from the vines holding his cables like a puppet master. He only manages to get himself even more twisted up, his heels almost touching the backs of his thighs and his arms twisted more behind his back. He’s a neat little package at the complete mercy of the Radio Demon.
The thought comes straight out of his nightmares.
Alastor nudges Vox’ erection once more with his cane before pulling it away and lightly tapping it into the palm of his hand. His expression is one of… mild entertainment at best, and his next words prove just that: “I had been planning on a nice breakfast with an old friend of mine, but I might have to postpone that to see where this farce is going.
It interests me: just how far are you depraved animals willing to go for a kick? How long will you keep this pitiful little display-” here he jerks his chin in the direction of Vox’ desperate erection, “up, I wonder. I had known you to be pathetic, but this is a quite fascinating new low that I am willing to explore instead of a truly delightful little dinner date.”
Vox just stares at him, horror slowly dawning on him as he realizes just how deep he’s in shit right now; especially feeling how obediently his body reacts to Alastor’s undivided attention.
Alastor huffs a little laugh. A black chair materializes behind him and he sits down without looking for it, crossing one leg over the other.
“Well then. What show are you going to offer me today, Vox, dear friend?”
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cyberrat · 25 days
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80th Batch Of Fics: 15th Fill
Alastor/Vox – Part 2/2 – shibari; degradation/humiliation – Alastor plays Vox like a fiddle. :)
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“I’m going to- I’m going to KilL yoU! I’m going to riP you apppPppaAAart when I get my claws on your s-scrawny nNnneckkk, and I’ll rip those vocal chords right out of your ch-ch-ch-ch-”
Alastor elegantly drums his fingers against his chest. “My, my… but we ARE vitriolic today, hmn? I can’t help but notice that it does not stop your… member… from its unsightly excitement, though.
As so many things with you, Vox, there is no real conviction behind your words. You will say anything to please the masses but not stand behind what you are preaching. A pitiful creature. I have to admit I am ashamed that I let myself get blinded by you for so long…”
Vox’ tirade fizzles out. He hates that a part of him is actually hurt by Alastor’s declaration… and the way he said it. Like all of this doesn’t concern him anymore. Like he is no longer even interested in Vox. Like he isn’t worth more than the dirt beneath his shoe…
And fuck, why is his cock flexing now? He can feel a fat dollop of pre-cum starting to gather at the tip, tremble, then slowly stretch itself down to the ground.
Alastor clicks his tongue. His brow is furrowed. He looks honestly… puzzled, or maybe angry or some shit. Vox can’t quite make it out, it’s so fucking difficult to know what the Radio fucking Demon is thinking when he always has that fuck awful grin plastered on-
Alastor does the most curious thing then. He gets up and steps closer to Vox. Close enough that they are almost touching.
His heavy lidded eyes are on Vox’ face, watching his reaction as he… as he…
He touches Vox’ cock. The sharp tip of one elegant finger lightly nudging just beneath Vox’ glans, pushing his erection around just a little. Just enough to let him feel it.
Vox can’t help the pathetic fizzle of static briefly rolling across his screen or the little frizzled electricity sound stuttering out of his throat. He can’t help it. He can’t fucking help it.
Alastor is touching his cock. The fucking Radio Demon is touching his fucking cock and he looks like he debates whether or not to cut his hand off after this. Vox’ body convulses briefly, the lust curling through him downright painful.
Alastor nudges his cock again… and again… with the air of a child poking at some roadkill with a stick. Vox’s breathing is labored. He can’t help how his hips try to curl downward, trying to chase the touch. He can’t help how pathetically turned on he is by Alastor’s attention.
The orgasm he’s had after Alastor had come back and shamed him in front of the whole Pride ring had been the best he’s had in years. He’d rubbed it out hard and fast and had not allowed himself to dwell on it too much… but now Alastor is here and he is touching him and looking at his body’s pathetic reaction as he is strung up by his own wires and kept immobile.
“Let’s see… this might make for good radio. A little shallow diversion to the regularly scheduled screams and pleas. I think you would rather enjoy it, though. Having everybody bear witness to your utter depravity… And I can’t have that, can I? Hmmm what a conundrum.”
Alastor is moving around him; slow, measured steps as he looks at Vox from every angle. Looks at his body trembling with lust. He must be able to see how close he is to shooting his load. He simply must be aware-
“There is also a certain draw to keeping this private, however. I have to admit that I am a little curious…” Alastor trails off.
Vox has no idea what he is talking about. He can’t even see him, though he is trying; but there are limitations to what he can do and the edge of his screen keeps getting stuck against his shoulder.
And then there it is: a touch between his cheeks, a brief pressure against the tight clench of his hole and the ruthless thrust past the trembling muscle into his body, spearing him on but a single finger. The leather of the glove catches painfully at his rim though at this point it just feeds into the feedback loop that is crawling up and down Vox’ body.
He can feel his face glitching, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth and then as a viscous, electrically charged liquid from the edge of his TV’s frame.
Alastor has… Alastor is…
“What th-the- ThE FFf-fFFuuUucckkk?!”
“Interesting.”
“WHAT?! TAKE YOUR FF-F-F-FUUCKKKKKING FFFF-FFFIING- I’M GONNA GONNA GONNA GONNA-”
He is cut off by more fingers thrust into him. His mouth, that is. Alastor has complete control over his body with the way it is trussed up. Vox can taste the leather of his glove and the metallic tang of old blood as the fingers press down on his tongue, rendering him mute for the time being.
It would be so easy to just bite down, but… but…
“I advise you to simply be still now. Your stuttering and posturing is quite embarrassing, you know. You pathetic little worm. How easily you are made a slave to your nasty little desires.”
He moves his finger. It’s just a single one, but it is the immediate center of Vox’ obsession as it thrusts deeper into his body and lightly wiggles around. It is as if Alastor is searching for something, though he wouldn’t be able to feel anything through his gloves. Vox thinks. He’s not too sure. He can’t really process what is happening.
His face keeps trying to glitch but can’t really with the fingers rubbing idly against his tongue.
Apparently dissatisfied with what information he is gaining, Alastor forces another finger into Vox and spreading his hole apart on his knuckles.
Vox can feel his cock flexing, dripping more to the ground where it glows in the darkness. Shadow and light are playing off their immediate surroundings as his face keeps twitching.
“I find myself getting surprised despite myself about the utter depravity of some folks,” Alastor suddenly says. It sounds like he is just talking aloud to get his thoughts out there. His utter… disinterest in Vox’ desperation is only adding fuel to the fire burning in his chest. “How gauche you sound. How lewd. I might have been mistaken after all. This makes for very cheap audio indeed. I don’t think I could live with myself knowing I bring my listeners such sub-par radio entertainment.”
The fingers thrust deeper, twisting cruelly and, by some form of miracle or Alastor’s design, press hard and unrelenting against Vox’ prostate.
He is done for. He can’t stop the Bluescreen, no matter how much he is struggling to keep himself together.
The last he hears before his senses shut down in a big show of sizzling sparks is Alastor’s disappointed voice reprimanding him: “I will have to rethink a collaboration. I have standards after all – and you with your little toys are far beneath them.”
When he comes to again, Vox is lying on the ground, his cables an absolute mess and his body aching considerably. His memory only gives him bits and pieces of what has happened, so he painfully drags himself over to his console and slams his fist against a button.
He watches on the screen as he hangs limp from his cables and Alastor’s vines, the little space filled with the cool blue light of his Bluescreen.
He watches as Alastor pulls his fingers out of his body and wipes them clean against his hip with a pinched expression of disgust.
Before he just waltzes out of the room, he twists his head and peers directly up at the single emergency camera that had been recording, his mouth forming the words: See you.
Vox growls, head knocking hard into the edge of his desk, fist slamming repeatedly into whatever he can reach.
Lost. Again!
FUCK!
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cyberrat · 11 days
Text
81st Batch Of Fics: 5th Fill
Husk/Angel – hurt/comfort; double ended dildo – Angel comes back to the hotel after a rough night and Husk decides to finally make one of his dreams come true to get him into better spirits. It works.
---
Angel hasn’t told Husk what’s been going down that night but the way he almost crawls into the bartender’s room, a haunted look on his face, makes him wonder.
He putters around his room, one eye always on the demon on his bed. Angel has curled up beneath the covers and is just morosely scrolling on his phone. It’s more the fact that he has barely said a word, though, that is making Husk feel awkward and worried.
He casts around for something, anything to say that could make Angel feel better, but comes up short until his eyes land on a cloth bag that’s lying in the corner of his room. He pulls a face, heat immediately crawling through his body, but… it might just work?
Husk shuffles over and grabs the bag, sticking his paw in and pulling the thing inside out before he can think better of it.
“Hey. Angel.”
Angel just rolls his eyes over to him but when he sees Husk standing there with the soft, double-ended dildo dangling from one of his paws, he rips his head around and sits up so fast that it actually looks painful.
“You gonna try it with me?!” he asks.
Husk feels so fucking stupid with that toy in his paw, hunched over and wanting to die of embarrassment, but… it kinda is worth it seeing the absolute excitement that suddenly fills Angel.
“...Yeah… let’s try it.”
.o.
Husk’s ears are folded back but not because he’s particularly unpleased about the experience. He more so wants to try and hear Angel behind him. His voice sounds so… so… so good. All soft and breathy and mewling as he keeps working himself up into a tizzy – and Husk along with him.
Each enthusiastic backwards thrust has the toy slide deeper into Husk’s guts and makes him dig his claws into the bedding. His tail is curled high in the air above them, the feathered tip occasionally tickling his own neck and adding to the odd sensations crawling through his body.
Angel sounds like he’s about to hyperventilate while Husk feels like he’s going through molasses. His whole body feels so heavy. It’s difficult to even keep up on all fours, his hole wrapped around the toy, suckling and wet.
He can feel the sweet little smacking contractions of his rim around the squishy silicone. It makes his fur stand on end and his cock feel like bursting.
Whenever he lets his head hang to stare down between his arms, along his furry belly and toward Angel on the other side, he can see how his front hole is leaking generously; a pearly, glittering webby fluid that stretches down to the bedsheets. Hell, if he can focus his eyes enough he can see that delicious little hole contracting… so hungry to be stuffed just like the other one.
“Fuck, H-Husky- feels so damn good-!” He thrusts his body backwards, spearing himself on the dildo and ramming it deeper into Husk in turn. The sensation zings along Husk’s spine like a bolt of electricity.
He just groans softly. He closes his eyes and tilts his body back into it, trying to keep up with Angel’s enthusiastic bouncing but getting nowhere near close. It’s just so… overwhelming. Especially when the fur of their thighs suddenly starts brushing together, letting them both know just how deep they have managed to fuck themselves on their toy.
“Oh shit… oh damn-! Come on, come on- I wanna… wanna kiss your hole with mine-” his voice is cracking. He sounds so fucking jazzed about it.
Husk bites into his forearm, struggling to remain quiet, cock bouncing now every time Angel enthusiastically pushes backwards, hellbent on pressing their asses together. Hellbent on getting their rims to touch. The thought makes Husk feel like his brain is overheating.
The pain from his teeth digging into his flesh kind of calms him down, but it also leaves more room for him to think about other scenarios. Just how possible would it be for him to push his cock back between his legs and stuff it into Angel’s hole? Absolutely impossible, but in his lust-addled mind it just seems plausible enough that he stops biting his arm and instead furiously licks his fur and the aching spots his teeth had dug in.
It’s a self-soothing mechanism; a tactic to try and distract himself from his imminent orgasm, guts filled with a soft, jiggly silicone cock and Angel’s cracking voice in his ears, twisting around his spine.
It’s horrible that they both like to be filled so much. Horrible, no good, bad-
“Come on, please… p-please baby c-c-cakes; I can’t do it alone, hmn? I can’t fuckin’ do this alone-”
Angel’s voice has gone so soft and small. He sounds on the verge of tears. Husk peers around one of his biceps and is shocked to find Angel is doing the same. Just two sluts staring at each other, speared on a double-ended dildo and losing their fucking minds.
At least his gamble came true and Angel looks a lot less depressed than he had earlier.
Difficult when there’s a fucking snake winding its way through your guts, he supposes.
Angel’s eyes are still locked with his. He’s stopped all movement, leaving the two of them trembling with their bellies full and their holes stretched and oversensitive.
“...Please,” he finally whines. It sounds bratty, yea… but also heartbroken; and Husk is a fucking sucker for that shit.
His tail trembles at the base, the motion moving through its whole length. He nods, feeling the tips of his ears bobbing in unison with the motion.
“Yeah,” he answers softly. “Yeah… okay.”
And he starts moving. Nervous little rocking motions pushing more of the cock into his body. Filling him inch by inch. He can feel its slippery length twisting around the turns of his intestines. It leaves him drooling with his tongue lolling out and a blessed emptiness filling his skull.
He’s too old for this. He’s no cute little fucktoy like Angel. He’s an old fucking cat that likes way too much how it feels when his furry ass touches the furry ass of this pretty spider boy.
Angel, now that he doesn’t have to do more work, is folding in on himself. Bracing himself on his shoulders, his lower arms reach back and grasp his ass, spreading what meager cheeks he has nice and open.
A lot of things happen once Husk manages to squeeze their asses together.
His tail develops a mind of its own, curling around Angel’s waist and holding on tight while they both loose their collective mind over this entirely alien, entirely wonderful, entirely overwhelming feeling.
Husk, to his unending shame, yowls like the cat he has become; just once and sharp as an orgasm pushes through him that leaves him a drooling, fucked-up mess.
And somewhere in the middle of him grinding his ass back, rubbing their cheeks together, and pumping out his load to mix with the pearly, glittery mess that Angel is leaving behind, he feels like he hears a soft, high-pitched voice chant: “Love ya, Husky! So fuckin’ much!”
He’s not… entirely sure about that one, though. All he knows is that shit paid off and Angel is a lot more happy now than he was an hour ago.
And that’s what counts.
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cyberrat · 3 months
Text
78th Batch Of Fics: 10th Fill
Alex/Horse – Stardew Valley – Part ½ – strapped to the underside for a few hours; body inspection; DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT – Right what it says on the tin. It's the continuation of a fic posted elsewhere, but you don't need that to enjoy this one.
---
His play in the barns has left Alex nice and relaxed and absolutely prepared for what is about to happen for the next few delicious hours. He does not even bother putting on clothes anymore; just gets into his husband’s work boots which he took this morning and moves out into the farm on wobbly knees with watery cum running down the insides of his thighs.
What a morning workout. Just a few months ago he would never have gotten this kind of exercise in. But now?
The horse sees him even before his husband. It is wandering somewhere close by, going about its business and waiting for whether the farmer decides to jump up on short notice, but the moment it sees Alex aimlessly wandering around, naked and erect, it comes over to bully him.
It’s as easy as that. The beast is more intelligent than it has any right to be and it knows exactly who its bitch is and what it can and can’t do to her.
Alex is a manly man but for these animals? Shit, he’ll put on lipstick and a wig if they’d love that more.
The horse is rumbling through its chest, nosing against Alex’ cheek and starting to push him with its body. It’s big and warm and gets him sweating even more than his previous exercises in the barn. He nervously curls his arms around its neck and just holds on while it tries to bully him into kneeling down for it.
It’s a pushy animal, that’s for fucking sure. Only with him, though, it seems – for his husband, the little stallion is a perfect gentleman, not putting a damn hoof out of line.
That’s alright, Alex supposes. He’s not too familiar with animals in general; he never gave much of a fuck about them other than Rusty who he brought to the farm with him once he got out of his grandparents’ house and started living with the Farmer.
They probably need someone they can respect or something, and he’s not that person. That’s alright, too. Really, it is. Actually, it gets him pretty hot to think that all these animals see him as someone that is beneath them. Just a convenient hole for them to plug whenever they get horny.
A year or two ago, before his husband moved to Stardew Valley, Alex would have probably thrown a tantrum at the mere thought of someone or something thinking they’re better than him but… he supposes he has grown in that regard. He just feels calmer and happier these days without the imagined pressure of his deadbeat father at his back.
Just when the horse starts getting a bit rambunctious and trying to rear and mount him up forcefully, a short whistle cuts through the thickening morning air and both the horse and Alex turn to watch his husband lightly jogging towards them.
He is already covered in dirt and profusely sweating and the Summer heat has barely even started yet. He pulls his straw hat off and wipes at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand while eying Alex up and down.
“You up for more work?” he asks instead of inquiring if Alex has done what he’s set out to do earlier. It is blatantly obvious what transpired in the barn.
Alex nods but it feels like that isn’t enough of an enthusiastic answer, so he blurts out: “Yes!” and after a second hangs on a quick: “Please.” Because sometimes his husband likes to play rough with him and wants him to jump through all kinds of little hoops to finally get what he wants.
That’s okay too. More than that. Alex finds that little gets him hornier than the Farmer being strict with him. Maybe grabbing him harder than he needs to, leaving bruises behind that will stay for a few days and feel so incredible whenever Alex presses his fingers into them to feel the deep ache that they radiate.
The Farmer does not react immediately. He has his hand on the horse’s neck, causing it to stand there sweet as a lamb. Instead of letting Alex know if he did enough or wants more of him, he just looks him up and down again, gaze lingering on the mess dripping down the insides of his thighs or the desperate erection straining toward him.
“Show me.” His voice is conversational, as if talking about the weather. There is a small smile on his face, oddly reassuring as Alex feels all the air leaving his body and his blood starting to pump faster through his veins.
On legs that feel not like his own anymore, he turns around slowly and bends forward, his grasping hands reaching back and pulling his cheeks wide apart to let his husband see his hole; the rim swollen and dark red from the fucks he received in the barn.
His husband’s rough fingers push into him without hesitation, scissoring apart and testing out just how soft and receptive his body is for what he has planned for the rest of the morning, it seems.
He hooks his fingers, pushing them rudely against Alex’ prostate until saliva is dripping from his open mouth and his knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Just when he wonders how long the Farmer will drag this little inspection out, the fingers are pulled out again, leaving him bend over and whole lewdly gaping.
The verdict is in his favor, thankfully. “Yeah, you seem ready. Alright, come here.”
The Farmer gets the special harness ready. The horse dances around on the spot some, obviously aware what is about to happen and very excited for it all. As always it is awkward to get Alex strapped into it but eventually he is beneath the horse’s belly, arms and legs around it like he is hugging the thing while his husband just casually makes sure its quickly extending cock is in the perfect position to push into Alex’ sloppy, waiting hole.
It certainly is bigger than the other cocks he’s had this morning but it’s also absolutely not the first time he’s taking it. Alex relaxes into the sensation of getting spread out nice and wide, feeling the horse’s hips hunch down to fuck deeper into the pussy that’s been bound to its belly.
Once it’s deep enough that it won’t just accidentally slip out again, the real fun starts as the Farmer clicks his tongue and has it follow him back to the spot where he had been working earlier, thick saddle bags slung over its back so he does not have to run back and forth to the shipping bin as he inspects the crops and pulls out anything that is ripe.
He doesn’t pay any more attention to Alex; as if him being a living cock sheath for his horse is an everyday occurrence. Like it is normal.
And that makes this all even hotter.
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cyberrat · 7 days
Text
81st Batch Of Fics: 7th Fill
Adam/Lucifer – Part 2/2 – degradation; sub!Adam/dom!Lucifer – Now it's Lucifer's turn to grab the bull by his horns and take him for a ride :)
---
The satisfaction Lucifer gains from the knowledge that Adam has become one of Valentino’s bitches is something that should not be underestimated. The only thing that would have been even sweeter would have been if he had gotten that contract under his belt before the moth.
Adam is already in the room as he thrusts open the door. In fact, he is lying on the bed, his robes rucked up to his belly, jerking off with a truly impressive anger.
He taps his staff against the door behind himself, as Adam seems not to have noticed his entry. “Knock knock!”
Adam jerks his hand off his swollen cock as if burned. “Holy f…UCK!” he exclaims, the expletive becoming more pronounced as he looks over and recognizes Lucifer standing there. “What the… what the actual fuck?! What is wrong with you and your fucking family, huh?! Are you here to torment me personally? Is that it? Fuuuck!”
Lucifer cocks his head slightly, a confused smile on his face.
“Beg your pardon?” He comes closer as he speaks, gently putting his cane at the side of the bed and shrugging out of his jacket, eyes never leaving the sight of the now demon Adam. He looks absolutely delicious. Nice and sturdy and with a pair of impish horns that are just made to be used as reigns…
“Your damn daughter was here just like… minutes ago? Did you not see her? The fuck-”
Lucifer chuckles. “Ah… the apple truly doesn’t fall far,” he murmurs, tail slowly lashing behind him with eager anticipation. “If she’s been here, I don’t need to tell you what I’m here for, then. You look ready enough, boy.”
Adam’s anger suddenly falters at that, his eyes flicking from watching Lucifer’s hands work with his belt, up to his face to just stare at him, stunned at being called ‘boy’ by him.
Lucifer wanders what is going on inside his head as he crawls onto the bed, his tail swishing behind him and his horns slowly emerging as he gets excited about what he is going to do. He has been thinking about this for… so long.
And all Adam is doing now is stare at him with his eyes wide open and his mouth in a little dumb ‘o’. Like he can’t believe this is what is going to happen. Like he can’t fathom that Lucifer would take him after he’s taken both of his wives already.
He grunts low and pained when he’s flipped over and his angry erection crushed between his soft belly and the mattress.
It does get him to wake up from his stupor, though, it seems.
“Hey… hey wait a second!” he exclaims, voice trembling with nerves as Lucifer pulls his hips up in the air and slots in behind him. He drags his cock along the crack of his ass, a copious amount of fluid dripping from the tip and getting everything nice and wet. “You can’t be for real,” Adam whines. “Can’t we talk about this? Like… like face-to-face?”
“Oh? You want to look at me while I fuck you?” Lucifer croons, one hand curling around the thick base of one of Adam’s horns, making him turn his head so they can peer at each other like that. His cock is now nudging against his tight hole; just playfully pushing and threatening with sliding in nice and deep. “Sounds kind of gay, not gonna lie,” he sing-songs.
Adam’s mouth opens a bit wider. He looks absolutely stunned again before stuttering: “No! I don’t want to look at you, I want you to not-”
“Well then everything’s just dandy, isn’t it?” Lucifer interrupts him with a broad grin as he pushes forward, forcing Adam’s muscle to spread apart for his slippery cock. The silence that follows is loud, but doesn’t take for long. Not at all. Not when Adam is so fucking tight that Lucifer can’t help the low gurgling groan bubbling from him chest deep.
“Fuck… fuck, you feel like a virgin,” he grits through his teeth. As his words register, Adam’s hole screws even tighter around his cock, holding him in a strangle grip that is borderline painful.
He can hear the moment he finally regains the use of his own lungs. He exhales forcefully, claws digging into the bedding. “Sh-shit-” Adam whispers. The muscles in his back are trembling as far as Lucifer can see. He grabs the robe he is wearing and pushes it up even higher. He needs to see more of this. He needs to see everything.
His tail is lashing behind him, betraying how much he loves this moment of utter dominance over this man.
“Shit… fuck,” Adam says again, his voice a bit louder but also more whiney. Lucifer’s sharp toothed grin widens. He slowly pulls back, watching how his cock emerges nice and glittering with wetness before he slowly moves back in. Adam gurgles on his dick and arches his back like a pro.
“Hey, if I weren’t like… 99 percent sure you’ve never done this before, I’d say you’re a fucking pro at this, my guy. You’ve been holding out on us? You’ve been secretly fingering yourself all this time or something?”
He starts up a rhythm; nice and loose-hipped and easy, the hand on Adam’s horns a steady, calming presence. Keeping his head down and against the rumpled sheets at all times.
“I… I… n-no… fuck you-” his ire is not as impressive when he’s whining like he is now, shuddering intermittently on the cock gently reaming him. His hole still has trouble getting used to the feeling, it seems; trembling around him, occasionally clenching down in sudden desperation to push him back out… “Get out… g-get ouuuut,” Adam whines, clawing the sheets into ribbons.
There’s a flush on his cheekbones that is all too delicious looking.
Lucifer watches him intently as he fucks him in even, easy strokes; reaming him without any particular brutality, but also not letting him get all too accustomed to the sensation of having his pussy spread on dick.
And oh, would you look at that… Adam is getting all quiet real fast, whimpering softly as he drools into the sheets, his insides starting up a nice, rhythmic squeezing motion…
“Oh someone is enjoying himself,” Lucifer croons. He can’t deny that he’s downright disturbed about how good this bastard feels on his dick. He leans over Adam’s back. “Are you going to come on my cock? Hmmmn? Are you going to cum on your first ever dick without a hand on you? Huuuh? Are you going to call me daddy while you do it?”
Adam’s whole body jerks beneath him. His eyes, previously half-closed in reluctant pleasure, suddenly are wide open again. There’s genuine hate in his gaze, but his body is betraying him as he starts to cum like a good boy, pumping out his desperate load while speared deep on Lucifer’s dick.
There’s a sob in his voice as he rattles out a “F-F-FffuuuUUuck YyyooouUUuu” all uncoordinated and vitriolic.
Lucifer is grinning but out of breath himself. He hangs on to his own orgasm out of sheer spite. He wants to drag this out for hours. He wants Adam to lick his boots like a puppy and say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ by the time he is done with him.
No… This is just the fucking beginning.
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cyberrat · 18 days
Note
Ok jfc fuck me im sitting here at WORK and I just
1- Vintage Staticmoth cameraman Vox/PornStar Val—Vals pimp would sweetly tormenting Vox under the cover of “needing the best angle” and making him get on the bed with his little handheld recorder under Val while he’s getting railed for those so absolutely necessary upshot perspectives. He’s not allowed to touch but Val is on top of him giving his best performance, grinding on cock, and there’s so much heat he can’t breathe and his lap is soaked because Val and his John are dripping over him and Valentino is looking him straight in the eye. It’s not enough and everything he’s ever wanted at the same time.
Their boss makes Vox thank him for letting Val grinding on top of him at a discount (yeah he docks his pay for this) because he knows how down bad the loser is for his prized whore. And hey if Vox behaves and stays in his lane maybe next time he’ll let Valentino say his name when he cums, wouldn’t that be a nice treat for both of them?
2-current day— Vox actually misses filming those upshots and since his whole face can function as a camera now with all his nice upgrades he loves having Val ride his tongue and cum on his screen for their own private movie collection
Vox is nearly alone in the room. It is dark and the air is thick after all the fucking that‘s been going on throughout the day.
It would be too disgusting if it weren‘t tempered by the sweet perfume Valentino is oozing out of every pore.
Behind him, the moth is slightly moving in his cage, a soft rustling of him adjusting his wings anew; a little trilling whimper that he might just be so used to that he is doing it in his sleep.
Vox turns and peers behind him. From the dim light of the screen and his own face, he can see Valentino curled up like the pet he is, using his neck fur as a makeshift pillow. He is not quite sleeping, though. He just pretends to be.
Vox can see the tiny red slits of his eyes that he keeps cracked open. He must not realize Vox can see his bluff and he lets him be for now.
He turns back around and stares at the screen he‘s got there with the still frame of Valentino‘s cock, his plump little cunt beneath stretched almost brutally around a cock.
Vox bounces his leg restlessly, then presses the play button.
His camera work is excellent as always, of course. He does not really need to sit here and review the footage, he does not need to tinker with it much.
But he needs to see Val in action again. He needs to relive the moments of him beneath the tall demon, filming as he is getting railed. He needs to make a copy of the *sounds* he made while speared on cock.
All trilling and high-pitched and sloppy, tongue dangling from his sharp toothed mouth.
Vox‘ camera work is so good that it‘s barely noticeable how one stud stops fucking and another takes his place. It seems like one continuous session. One hyper potent bull that fucks Valentino until all four arms cave and he stops trilling and starts *wailing*.
He‘s been so close to Vox like that. Eye to eye. Almost like *Vox* was the one fucking him and abusing this perfect little peach he‘s got. The one that‘s all swollen now from the rough treatment.
He hadn‘t been able to keep himself from kissing Val. Wet and needy. Just one more thing Val‘s Master and Vox‘ employer took out of his paycheck. But it was worth it.
He keeps stopping and rewinding and repeating the same scenes, the object of his obsession just feet away curled up in a cage. Waiting for the next time he‘s drug out to perform like a circus animal.
Vox aches.
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cyberrat · 5 months
Text
76th Batch Of Fics: 11th Fill
Cazador/fem!Tav – Part 3/3 – pre-established Tav/Astarion; rape/non-con; blood drinking; forced impregnation; changing POVs – Cazador's winning in every conceivable way.
---
The despair on Astarion’s face is delicious. It is almost enough to satisfy Cazador in and off itself – if he weren’t currently enjoying the warm, generous hole of Astarion’s sweetheart. She takes him like a pro despite her growling.
He curls his arms around her hips, chin hooked over her shoulder as he pumps his hips against her ass, cock spearing her pussy over and over again.
It’s when she starts to become more quiet and her cunt trembles around his cock that things start to get really interesting.
Cazador’s gaze snaps back to Astarion, a smile slowly spreading across his face.
“Oh would you look at that… she’s about to come, isn’t she?”
Tav shakes her head violently no, her eyes clenched shut.
Cazador can’t keep from grinning, a positively unholy joy filling his chest.
“No?” he asks her, head turning so she can croon into her blood hot ear. “Are you saying your thighs aren’t trembling? Or that your delightful pussy hasn’t clamped down on my cock like it wants to strangle it?” He has completely stopped his thrusts just to feel the throb of her walls around his flexing shaft; and now he starts to move again. Slow. Deliberate as she immediately fights to stop everything that he mentioned – without success.
Tav is shaking her head again wildly. Cazador has to be careful so she wouldn’t knock him out but that’s fine. Everything is fine because this whole affair keeps getting better and better and better.
He barks out a single note of laughter, eyes boring into Astarion’s pale, agonized looking face. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” he announces, his hips still pumping nice and slow, taking care not to change the angle with wich he is spearing into her silky, throbbing body. The heat around his crown is intense; like he keeps dipping right into the very center of her being.
He can feel the tension mounting throughout her body. How desperately she is fighting against her response to be fucked by him.
Cazador thrusts harder, the snap of his hips causing Tav to throw her head back, her throat flushed and straining as she can’t cry out the lust she reluctantly feels. Slick keeps sliding down her thighs and glistening wet in the flickering lamp light of the room.
“You know what I think, my pet?” Cazador announces over her animal grunts as he fucks her faster; deeper; meaner. “I think that you did a wonderfully fine job in choosing her! She is a natural, is she not? So very easy; so eager for cock she even let a mongrel like you mount her.”
He stands up straighter, his arms around her body, forcing her more upright as well; her knees are visibly shaking as she tries to find some kind of purchase with her bound feet.
“It will have been the last time, though. Because from now on… she is mine. And she will pump out an army of loyal little pets for me! I’ll use her as my personal breeding bitch; I’ll fuck a new spawn into her the moment she gives birth to the last. I’ll have her swollen with my young over. And over again.
And the best thing is that she will love it. You know it as well as I do, do you not?” He’s starting to get out of breath as he fucks her, one hand cupping her stomach beneath her navel; the heel of his hand pressing into her to stimulate her from the outside as well. There are screeching little peaks in her moans now. She hates it but she can’t help it either. Her body is utterly betraying her and the sweetness is too heady to bear.
He answers his own question before Astarion can take a breath. “Of course you do! You can see how wild she’s getting for me. So lets hear her proper, shall we?”
Cazador snaps his fingers. The magic he used to keep her mouth shut had not been a big feat of power but it still feels good to only have to uphold one spell while he fucks this bitch’s brain out.
Just as predicted – and hoped – Tav wails her little damn heart out as he rabbit fucks her on his cock, pumping it into her with single-minded intent.
Her insides are having a death grip on him and the slick keeps sliding down to his balls where it itches and drives him wild in wholly different ways.
“FuuUuuuUuuuUuuUck!” Her voice keeps warbling as she is bounced on his dick, high-pitched in the cadence of a true whore that gets her cervix pummeled by the insistent push of his glans.
He wishes he could see her face; how she’s going cross eyed. But at least he can see Astarion as he witnesses his precious Tav’s corruption.
Cazador grabs her jaw, feeling her throat vibrating in his palm as she whines. She starts to fight again, her whole body trying to twist out of his grasp; one desperate last ditch effort to prevent the unpreventable.
He keeps his dick inside her. It’s like trying to ride a bucking horse, but she is trussed up and he is determined-
And finally she comes. Gurgling and sobbing, her whole body tensing as she convulses on his dick; a squirt of piss shooting from her lap and hitting the ground half a foot from her quiet, seething lover.
She slumps forward, all the tension gone out from her limbs.
Cazador would think her passed out from the intensity of her orgasm if he weren’t able to feel the warm pulsations around his cock and hear her low groaning.
“Easy now… we are not done yet, my precious little breeding sow,” he murmurs. With the hand still around her throat, he pulls her back up into position. His heart is racing. Her blood smells absolutely divine through the thin membrane of her skin. He is so close, he can taste the release on his tongue… but it is not as sweet as she will be once he’s pushed his fangs into her skin and drank her.
He has slowed down somewhat, giving himself time… but more so giving her time to regain her senses. He wants her to know what is happening.
He wants her to be alert and as filled with hate as Astarion is, kneeling in the corner, impotent and quietly raging.
Cazador searches his gaze and once he is sure that he has his undivided attention, he finally does it: he bites Tav.
It takes everything in him not to rip her throat out. Her blood gushing over his tongue and down his throat is orgasmic. Him pumping her full to his seed to the point of it gushing back out of her slick, overworked cunt is only prolonging the feeling into a sweet, sharp edge that lets him see the nighttime stars before his closed eyes.
Victory is so very, very sweet.
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cyberrat · 2 months
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79th Batch Of Fics: 15th Fill
Shane/Pigs – Part 2/2 – Does the Mayor's little scheme actually work?!
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Shane is not talking but the sounds he’s making beneath his pig lover hit Farmer deeply. He sounds like he’s about to choke on his own damn tongue, gurgling and whining and wheezing with every labored breath he is taking.
She can only imagine how intensely exhausting it is to carry the weight of a grown male pig on one’s back. She definitely has to reassess her opinion of Shane. She hadn’t had much of one in the first place, given that he had been intensely standoffish that one time she tried to talk to him… but she certainly didn’t think him strong enough for something like – that.
Not that she had much thought about someone fucking her animals in the first place.
It’s so interesting to watch how the pig is not moving much while its cock keeps corkscrewing its way into Shane’s body. Farmer tries to figure out just how long the thing is but keeps coming up short of any type of answer.
All she knows is that it is wet and that Shane is enjoying himself immensely. His cock is just about visible between his belly and the mud, occasionally dipping into the warm sludge until it looks like he is actively fucking into it while he gets bred up.
His low sounds of pleasure are nearly overshadowed by the wet noises of the pig’s cock inside his guts. There’s the sound of it displacing the watery pre-cum it seems to be constantly producing. Again and again. And then there are the fat testicles that keep swinging between the plump pig thighs, promising so much more cum in the future…
“Shane, my boy!” Mayor Lewis suddenly calls out, lightly banging his fist against the fence. The Farmer flinches, back immediately going straight. She had forgotten about the old man for a moment, too lost in watching her pigs breed Shane. She glances at him out of the corners of her eyes but the Mayor’s gaze is solely fixed on his… assistant.
“There are two more animals waiting there turn and I do have some other responsibilities today! If you would please hurry it up a little?”
Farmer wonders what he means by that. How the Hell should Shane ‘hurry it up’?
He nods, a low sob wrecking his body.
“Y-Yes, sir.” His answer sounds pathetically weak.
Farmer has no idea what he is doing; but somehow Shane does manage to get the pig to climax. His insides must squeeze down on the corkscrew cock something fierce… or is he massaging it? She would simply love to know what it feels like to fuck this man in this moment.
The pig squeals briefly, saliva dripping from its chewing mouth and onto Shane’s back as everything stills for a few long, desperate moments. A second pig already starts to waddle its way up to them.
Suddenly the three are so civilized… just politely waiting in line for their new breeding sow to be free for them. Farmer wouldn’t believe it if she didn’t see it with her own two eyes. Who would have thought that all it took was a nice wet hole?
The first pig dismounts. While the second one starts to get into position, Shane just kneels there, forehead in the mud, tongue lolling. He is breathing like he’s run a marathon.
“Are you okay?” Farmer calls out hesitantly. To her unending surprise, Shane nods before he is covered by the next pig just a moment later.
Farmer clenches her thighs together, her hands wrapped in claws around the fence she and the Mayor are standing at. He is watching it all happen with an expression of joy; like his assistant getting pumped full of gallons of pig cum is something adorable to witness.
It makes her wonder what… other things he’s made him do. What did she miss?
The second pig is smaller than the first and has a better time navigating around. It means that it finds its place almost immediately, spearing into Shane and settling for the laziest fuck the Farmer has ever seen.
It just rests on its sow’s back, happily drooling onto Shane and snuffling into the hair on the back of his neck – all the while Shane sounds like he is being skewered.
Which he is, she supposes. He keeps making those throaty, breathless sounds that tickle something in her brain and make her antsy to get closer and have a better look at the proceedings.
She doesn’t know if Shane had come on his first stud’s cock but he is still sporting an erection. Or maybe he’s having one again already? It is still getting fucked into the warm mud of the pigpen; still pushing deep into it with squelching, bubbling sounds while he gets filled with a wet corkscrew cock.
Mayor Lewis is humming a little tune next to her. He looks completely jazzed by the proceedings; bouncing on the balls of his feet, watching his assistant getting fucked within an inch of his life. He’s getting filled with even more pig cum. It keeps splattering out and onto the mud between his thighs; and still when the second pig dismounts, there is practically a deluge of watery pig cum squirting out of his puffy hole.
“Very good, my boy!” Lewis calls. “Just one more, yes?”
Shane wheezes as an answer. If Farmer is concerned for a moment that he might have changed his mind after all, her worries are being put to rest by Shane trying to turn his way around for the next beast. Stuck in the mud as he is, it is faster for the pig to waddle around him and mount up.
The Farmer’s gaze flicks up to the other two pigs. They are lying right next to each other in one of the corners, stretched out and languid. She’s never seen her pigs so content before – and certainly not so peaceful.
She looks back to Shane. At this point it seems like the stiff mud that his limbs have sunken into is the sole thing keeping him kneeling pretty for his last stud. His forehead keeps getting smeared into the ground. He looks oddly natural in this position. Like it’s the true place for Shane to be.
In a pig pen? Or speared on cock?
The Farmer blinks slowly. She can’t quite make up her mind on that regard. She can’t deny that his standoffishness had kind of annoyed her and seeing him like this is… oddly nice.
But.
Without taking her eyes off of him and his last breeding session, Farmer says with a crack in her voice: “Thank you for coming over and helping me with my problem, Mayor Lewis. It has been… enlightening.” She swallows thickly. “I think… I think I’ll go to Marnie’s tomorrow and get myself a sow, though.”
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