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Felt like writing for the first time in a long while. Will probably flesh it out a bit better later on.
She always thought her new spouse's town was a little odd and she never could quite put her finger on why. Now she knew, but it was too late.
The dress she'd brought with her was ripped from her body by the (naked!) women in his family. She was too shocked to fight back when they put her in a leather body harness, but leaving her gloves, stockings, and shoes on. Then, sent off with a swat to her behind, she was forced to crawl down the aisle, with all eyes staring at her!
Men sat in rows and at their feet knelt women wearing nothing but collars and leashes. The latter had mixed reactions to her: pity, empathy, cool judgment, or most disturbingly, like a new friend. The former eyed her with interest and an anticipatory hunger.
When she finally made it to her beloved, she wasn't sure what to do so she sat back on her heels, hands palm down on her thighs, and looked up at him. She was rewarded with a soft, "Good girl."
"What's happ- glech!" He swiftly forced a gag into her mouth, one formed like an O and forcing her lips into the same shape.
"This one is mine," he announced in a voice meant to carry through the packed hall. The shiver that ran through her wasn't entirely due to the way his deep timbre settled into her very bones, coursing into her blood like bubbles of champagne.
"This collar is to mark my property, which I value and cherish." He'd picked up an item from the altar she hadn't noticed before, being too confused and off guard to even process her surroundings. There had been nothing like this in their planning discussions! Wait, come to think of it, he never brought up the ceremony at all other than it was to take place at his home. And she'd foolishly assumed that it would be the same as in her region; after all, the few times she'd visited him here had seemed very much like her home in many ways.
While she pondered all this, he strapped a collar around her neck and secured it with a decorative lock she caught out of the corner of her eye. Looking up at her lover with fear and pleading, he merely beamed at her in that way that always made her gooey on the inside like warm chocolate.
"As she is not from around here," a round of chuckles at the obvious, "to proceed with the ceremony we need go take care of something first."
Firm, familiar arms scooped her up and deposited her on the altar, pressing her wrists to the surface. Cold, heavy metal snapped around her wrists, pulling her arms taut. When she tried to look at who was at her head, she found it was her father-in-law! He winked at her and kissed her forehead before ripping open a package that smelled strongly of rubbing alcohol.
Another set of manacles clamped around her ankles, pulling them wide as her father-in-law wiped down her nipples, leaving them cold and puckering. She squirmed, trying to get away, but the chains were too tight. Doing this on the altar seemed sacrilegious.
"This is to guide you." Her beloved gripped one nipple firmly between two fingers and jabbed with his other hand. A beat later the pain hit and her hips lifted off the table at the agony. Tears sprung to her eyes and she did her best to scream around the gag. She barely registered the fact that her father-in-law fitted some sort of ring into the fresh piercing since her husband had moved onto her other breast.
She shook her head and begged with her eyes for him not to do it. He simply smiled and continued the torture. She couldn't even hear what he said over the pain and her whimpers.
"Sshh, sweetheart, shh." He stroked her hair lovingly. "You're being such a good little elf for me, just hold on a little longer."
The buttplug inserted into her ass couldn’t penetrate the fog of shock, pain, and despair she was in. The pinching of her clitoris, however, did. Her head snapped up. He wouldn't!
The look in his eyes said he absolutely would and immediately made good on that promise. She threw her head back on a scream. As he worked in the jewelry, he said, "And to remind you who you belong to" before nipping at her inner thigh.
As soon as the chains were removed, but not the cuffs, he manipulated her onto her stomach, him standing behind her and both facing the assemblage. Their faces swam in her vision as his warm, thick finger entered her more easily than she'd expected. Either she'd become wet or there was blood from the piercing, or both. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Thank you all for being here to witness our union," he said to the witnesses as he worked that digit in and out of her, each pass drawing out more of her juices. On top of an altar. Definitely sacrilegious. "Please, feel free to celebrate your own with us!"
"I intend to celebrate yours during the Welcome!" one man quipped.
She couldn't even begin to wonder at what that meant as her new husband entered her, pushing aside all thoughts as he made room for himself. So full! So many sensations! Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she thought she might pass out from overload.
"Oh no, you can't pass out on me yet, sweetling," he whispered in her ear before biting down where her neck flowed into her shoulder and picked up his pace. Each slap of his balls hit her new piercing, bringing a confusing mix of pain and pleasure, the buttplug joining in with each thrust. Her nipples sparking the same reaction as they rubbed against the altar cloth. Some part of her thought velvet was an odd choice, but she appreciated it as he pounded her into it.
"Cum for me, pet," he growled and sank his teeth into her other shoulder as he spilled inside her.
And she did. She never before would have thought it possible, but she did, screaming out her pleasure for all to hear. Dimly, over the thudding of her heart and their harsh breathing, she heard applause. And some moans. It appeared that more than a few had taken up the invitation to celebrate.
"You did so well, little one, we're almost done here, then the community can welcome you. They've been dying to meet you properly," he pressed a hot kiss to the nape of her neck and she shuddered.
Apparently, that was the cue that the ceremony was over because they were soon swarmed by well-wishers even though he was still buried inside her.
"She's beautiful, especially with those tears!" gushed one woman.
"You said she's never been trained? You'd never know it."
As each person said their piece, they'd stroke her face, hair, arms, anywhere they could reach. She tried to sink into the altar.
"OK that's enough, let's get to the Welcoming," he laughed and pulled out of her, leaving her feeling empty as their combined fluids leaked out of her. After tucking himself away, he scooped her up in his arms and nuzzled the top of her head with his chin as he strode out of the hall, the crowd parting for them, the women shuffling away on knees or all fours.
"After this, we'll get you home where I can explain your new life to you," he breathed into her ear. She hated how much she loved the feeling of his breath and voice pouring into her. "But first there's a feast where the town welcomes you as one of our own. It will be confusing, but I have faith in my good girl to get through this."
He set her on her feet in front of a set of stocks, which she'd seen in the town square before, near to where the reception tables were set up. She started to back away when he opened them. He yanked her forward and easily got her locked into the contraption despite her resistance, which only earned her a sharp slap to her ass, reminding her of the plug again.
"Let all who hear these bells know that today we celebrate with joy." He added rather large bells to the rings now adorning her nipples. The weight of them pulled in pleasure/pain, especially when he flicked one to hear the peals of both the bell and her groan. He laughed and petted her head. "Father, would you do the honours?"
She wanted to squeal, honours? What honours?! She did end up squealing and getting her answer as her father-in-law entered her from behind.
"I'm so proud of you, son, bringing home a gorgeous little elf." Aside from his ragged breathing, he sounded as if he wasn't balls deep in his daughter-in-law.
"Thanks, dad." Her husband's voice was husky with emotion and his hand stilled on her head. Her heart swelled for him, and she did the only thing she could, nuzzle the closest part of him, which happened to be his crotch. Looking down, he laughed, "You're right, this is a good family bonding moment."
Releasing his cock, he took no time thrusting it into her mouth; the O-ring happened to fit around him perfectly as he lodged deep in her throat. Her body rocking between the men set the bells in her nipples to tinkling in the midday sun
"Are you going to breed her right away?"
"No, I want to properly train her before then. She doesn't know our ways."
"Good, very good." Her father-in-law’s words broke off with a groaning climax. "Welcome to the family, little one." With a final pat to her ass, he stepped away.
Warm cum leaked out of her and down her thighs, soon coating her throat as well. She coughed and spluttered quite messily once her husband withdrew from her mouth.
"I'll leave you to get to know everyone as this will go faster if I'm not monopolizing one of your holes," he brushed a thumb tenderly across her jaw as another male thrust inside her cunt. "This is my oldest friend; he'll take good care of you. She's allowed to cum as much as she can since it's a special occasion."
The assenting response was punctuated with a deep thrust that ground up into her and the new piercing, making her see stars. A new male stood in front of her, blocking out the sun and soon her airway, too, as he took advantage of her mouth.
She didn't know how long she stayed in the stocks, how many men used her body, how many women kissed her and fondled her breasts, nor the number of times she orgasmed in the middle of the town square. Everyone showered her with praises and advice, rubbing her belly and breasts for luck with breeding, and with their cum.
With a town this friendly and its quaint customs, and that many orgasms, she found herself looking forward to married life.
You know what really fucking Annoys Me about internet censorship is stuff like swear words being heavily censored because that's entirely an American cultural hangup being forced on the rest of us. I don't know a single country where swearing is as taboo as it is in America. In fact most languages have swear words that would have the same effect on an American as giving a Victorian chimney sweep a pepsi max cherry.
Using the bathroom in general is a human right and should be enshrined as such and I'm not joking. Too many groups of people are denied bathroom breaks or the use of bathrooms entirely--disabled people, blue-collar workers, children, homeless people, prisoners, students, the elderly. I'm surely missing other groups. Not using the bathroom when needed can cause serious, long-term damage, not to mention death. Free, clean, accessible bathrooms should be available everywhere. It's fucking cruel to deny someone the use of the bathroom, regardless of the reasoning. I'd rather every student in the world goof off and every homeless person make a mess and every worker "steal company time" than let one person suffer because they're denied the right to fucking pee in peace.
Since the TERFS have found this post, I want to be explicitly clear:
THIS POST INCLUDES TRANS PEOPLE.
In fact, it was an egregious mistake of mine to not explicitly include trans people in my original post. Trans people are whatever gender that they say and they especially deserve access to clean, safe bathrooms. TERFS are exactly some of the fuckwads that I'm against in this post: you shitty bastards will harass people in bathrooms and pass laws denying trans people their basic rights to use the bathroom in peace and then whine that people rightfully see you as cruel.
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youve been fooled………………by the april fools beeper……………..it was a fully grown bird the entire time…..no egg………………it tells u it hopes u hav a good april 1st
Saw an op-ed that was on the surface a complaint about kids not wanting to take on family heirlooms but read like an elegy to dying traditions. The hardest part was the anxiety without recognizing that they didn’t pave the way for the decisions they assumed their kids would make.
(This is written entirely within the dominant white/western culture - about traditions that have neglectful stewardship rather than those actively suppressed)
The anxiety makes sense. You’re seeing, too late to do anything about it, that there’s no foundation - no space - for the traditions you expected to pass on. Your kids _can’t_ take your mom’s fine china. So now instead of enjoying what you have you worry about its future.
I see a pattern in these op-eds though - a pattern in what’s left unsaid. There were responsibilities tied to these traditions. You collectively assumed they _would_ be passed along. So collectively, what did you do to ensure those traditions _could_ be passed along?
Op-eds never speak for everyone, but it’s worth acknowledging the pattern in what speech is deemed worth sharing widely. And in this particular pattern, there’s an answer: that answer looks like “nothing.”
You want the china passed down but your kids have no room in their rentals. You want grandkids but your kids don’t have the financial stability. You want that cross-country RV neverending road trip but you’ve had decades of wanting lower taxes more than you wanted infrastructure.
The bleak outlook for traditions is a direct result of the unmaintained foundations for them. The second best time is always now - if it’s important enough to op-ed about, what are you willing to change to get it back? What will you give up or re-prioritize?
I kinda think that world-defining assumptions are always gonna break without maintenance. So rather than getting mad at whoever’s next for not carrying on the norms we didn’t do upkeep on, when it’s my turn, I hope I’m introspective enough to help instead of externalize & blame.
The bleak outlook for traditions is a direct result of the unmaintained foundations for them. The second best time is always now - if it’s important enough to op-ed about, what are you willing to change to get it back? What will you give up or re-prioritize?
I follow a Facebook group of “Memories of …” for my hometown - a rustbelt community that has gone from a thriving hub of industry to a much-less-thriving place.
The group is a collective lament. Decades-old pictures of well-kept churches. Aerial shots of the main intersection downtown, lined with big cars. Scanned advertisemetns from local stores featuring pictures of their interiors. These alternate with the drumbeat of news: the Catholic diocese is closing churches. Selling them. Tearing them down. STores downtown are closing. The traffic light has been replaced with a four-way-stop.
“That’s the church my parents were married in!”
“How could they tear down that beautiful building. Such memories!”
“All the businesses are closing. It must be the taxes.”
”They’ve sold the old lodge downtown.”
“They’re not opening the skating rink this year. We always used to go.”
And sometimes I chime in.
“Do you attend that church? Do you give? Or do you just want the building to look pretty for you? “
“Do you volunteer at that park? Why not?”
“Did you vote for that recreation bond issue?”
“Are you a member of that Lodge? Why not?”
“Do you shop downtown? Or did you start shopping at Walmart and Amazon to save a few bucks?”
If you feel something is worth preserving, why do you not participate in its preservation?
I am American and I have never seen photos like this. I had no idea there are borders like this. Even though I LOVE the idea of open borders, I am staring at these pictures like “wait…people can just…walk across some stones or grass and BE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY??? and nobody stops them?? how does that WORK?!” So you can tell that my country’s propaganda has gotten to me by convincing me that this CAN’T work even though…it…obviously can.
These pics just seem unreal to me. I’ve been taught my whole life that this can’t exist. In 27 years no one has ever sat me down and gone, look, here’s how it is elsewhere. It isn’t impossible at all.
“I’m almost 50, and here is the best thing I have learned so far: every strange thing you’ve ever been into, every failed hobby or forgotten instrument, everything you have ever learned will come back to you, will serve you when you need it. No love, however brief, is wasted.” @louisethebaker on Twitter
ive been reading a book that basically explains how so-called “brain differences” between the genders is the result of gendered socialization and not the cause of it. i honestly expected the book to be very cis-centric but its actually the opposite, the author stresses that testimony from trans ppl is actually indispensable because we’ve, in a sense, “lived both experiences”
one of the first examples that she uses to introduce her point about how perception by others can shape a person’s performance actually uses a trans woman. it explains that as a certain trans woman became to be seen as a woman more and more frequently, the ppl arond her eventually started viewing her as being ill equipped for tasks that they did not bother her about pre-transition. eventually she even found herself underperforming in these tasks herself.
I knew it was this book before I’d finished reading the first two lines. Honestly this book is indispensible if you want to debunk any gender determinism people claim is science. I can’t recommend it enough.
She’s written a new one! It won the Royal Society prize for science book of the year, and it’s called Testosterone Rex, and it is excellent.
(Bonus: it’s making old white men really really mad.)
(Bonus bonus: I am myself a neuroscientist, and the old white men mentioned above – who are not – could not have missed the point harder if they’d actively tried. Which. Maybe?)
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When Guillermo del Toro had a practical effect fish-man suit in The Shape of Water but used cgi to make the eyes look more real.... he had the right idea.
Practical effects are the meal and cgi is the spice. Both important. One sustains me, fulfills me. The other adds flavor and depth. But serve me a plate of spices and nothing else and I will revolt.
This is an honest question I have, for those folks that make a big deal about "freedoms," what do they even think they have the freedom to do? A lot of places, it's illegal to sleep in public or grow a vegetable garden. "Freedoms" my ass
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I REALLY want to film a Star Trek parody where the caption is yelling really tropey star trekkie things at the engineer who in turn just answers with real and truthful responses about mechanics. Like
Captain: how long will it take to get the warp engines back online??
Engineer: at least 2 hours
Captain: *dramatically* you've got 45 minutes
Engineer: well, okay, so it's not going to happen then, because it takes at least 2 hours
Engineer: .... why? It's broken. Putting more power in it isn't going to make it less broken. And why life support? You want us to die faster or something?
Engineer: We can’t do it, Captain! We do not have the power!
Captain: We’ll harness the power of the local sun and divert it into the engine!
Engineer:...
Captain:...
Engineer:...
Captain:...
Engineer: That’s...
Captain: Look, can you figure something out and just tell me that’s what you did? I just really need a win right now. Please?
Engineer: I’ll try, Captain.
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
origamiaround
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gracieabrams
snowghoul
tangentwithtanner
amandla
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blakekathryn
