Stories of filth

Sorry for the sudden change to the masterlist but I thought this would make everything a lot more organized. Also I won't reach a link limit as quickly. Love y'all, thank you for reading!

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Blurbs Masterlist- part 3

Blurbs Masterlist- part 4

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Multi-part series Masterlist

He watches baby girl as the days pass. She's covered in a thin layer of blonde hair, something to "keep her warm," the nurse had said.

"Some babies are born hairy, but it starts to fall out as they get older." She assured as she changed baby girl into a fresh diaper. "She's stable enough for you to reach inside, if you want." Simon was on his feet in seconds.

He washes his hands, puts on hand sanitizer, then washes his hands again. He couldn't live with himself if he got her sick. He places his finger gingerly in the palm of her hand, admiring just how small she was compared to him. She grips his finger in a tight vice grip that surprises him, a coo bursting from her as she holds him.

The fuzzy feeling was usually gone by the time you woke up. Sandwiched between Johnny and Kyle, you woke with a grumbling tummy and a very sore body. "Hey, love." Kyle whispers as he kisses your forehead and then your lips. You blink up at him nervously, lower lip pouting out as you let a whine slip. "What's wrong? Are you hurtin?"

"Papa.." Over your shoulder Johnny's eyes widen in panic, his arm around your waist quickly moving to rub your back. You'd never regressed after sex before, Kyle immediately feeling anxious they'd done something wrong.

"I'm sorry, love, Papa's out of town right now." Kyle whispers as he pinches your cheek softly. "What's wrong, hmm?" You whimper sadly, fingers curling in the sheets as you realize you're naked.

"M sore, an I wan Papa." You whisper, looking over at Johnny as he carefully slips out of bed. Johnny quickly slips on his sweatpants, going to the bottom drawer of his dresser. All the boys kept supplies for you on hand because you felt safe enough to slip around all of them.

You came into the bedroom just as Simon started scrubbing the polish off his nails. He was being rough, scrubbing the surface with jerky motions and shaking hands. You had noticed the tension when you got home, the way he hid his hands from you when you gave him a kiss hello.

"Oh, did she paint your nails?" You chuckle happily when you had noticed the shakily applied polish. "It's not half bad for a four year old." You continue, placing a kiss on his cheek. Simon didn't acknowledge it, not even with his usual gruff grunt. You approach him slowly, covering both his trembling hands with yours.

"Simon?"

"Yeah, love?" There it was. That tightness in his tone from holding back tears, hands slowly turning so your palms press together.

"What's wrong with the nail polish?" You probe softly, lowering your head until you catch his eyes. "I think it looks very nice." You didn't know why you were talking so softly, but he was responding to it, squeezing the damp cotton ball between two fingers.

"It's not for boys." You don't respond to that, slowly moving one hand up to his face.

"You can like what you like, baby. I don't mind." You assure, but you notice a grimace cross his face. His shoulders draw up slightly, gaze dropping to your hand in his. "Oh.."

Simon squeezes your hand, eyes shutting when tears start welling up. "I'm sorry, love. I'm sorry, I won't make you love me when I'm like this - when I'm so sick -" Your heart drops, cradling her face in your hands.

"Sick!? No, no, you aren't sick. Baby, look at me. Please, look at me." Simon slowly opens her eyes, head dropping into your reliable hands. "Are you... Do you want to transition? Is that what you're feeling?"

"I don't know. I haven't..." Her chest hitches nervously, glancing down guiltily at the nails she'd already cleaned. "What if I do?"

"That's okay. More than okay." You assure her as you clean her face. "I love you, Simon. All of you. Even if you change... Even if you're my wife." Your voice cracks slightly as you swipe away a tear.

"I know this is a little confusing, but if you have questions, you can always let me know." Your daughter looks between you and her Mommy, little gears turning in her head.

"So, Daddy feels better as Mommy?" She asks innocently, her little hand gripping Simon's much bigger one.

"Yes, baby. She's going to start looking and sounding a little different, but she still loves you very much." You rub Simon's back softly, watching her for any signs of panic.

"Mommy looks happy." Your daughter declares, a proud smile on her face. "Mommy happy?"

Kyle always preens under your words, head ducked down as he stands beside you in the kitchen. "What's wrong, baby? You're awfully quiet."

"Um... broke somethin." He whispers, tone dripping with guilt and shame as he holds a portion of your shirt in his fist. You hold back a sigh, knowing that Kyle was very sensitive when he felt like he was in trouble.

You knew you'd heard a crash, you had been praying it was just your imagination.

"Were you kicking your ball in the house again, baby?" Kyle whimpers, his face pressed between your shoulders. "Kyle..."

"Yes, Mama." He confesses, a full body shiver rolling through him. "Mama, I'm sorry..."

"I know you are. Show me the mess, baby." He takes your hand shakily, guiding you to the living room where one of your favorite lamps lay cracked on the floor. There was also a sizeable hole in the drywall, a football laying innocently at the scene. "What did I tell you about playing football in the house, sweetheart?"

Kyle immediately starts to sob, large tears rolling down his cheeks as he grips your hand tighter. "Not too! Not supposed to! Mama, I'm sorry!" He sobs as he buries his face back between your shoulder blades. You were upset, mostly about the lamp even though you knew you could buy a new one.

"Thank you for saying sorry, baby, but you have to go sit on your time out rug until Mama cleans this all up." You explain as you walk over to the mat. Kyle hates the time-out mat. He hates being in trouble, but he clings to you as you walk over to the dreaded corner.

"Don't you ever say anything like that ever again, Simon. You are a boy, and that's final." She had warned angrily, a tight grip on her upper arm. "You aren't a girl. Say it."

"I'm not a girl." She whispered back, not understanding why her Mama was so mad.

"Daddy?" Simon blinks back to the present, looking down at his hands. "You okay?"

"You need someone to keep an eye on you. You keep getting hurt. If you stay here, I'll keep you safe." He didn't believe you. You couldn't keep him safe when he couldn't even look out for himself. With Johnny gone, he didn't know where else to go but to your door.

"If you're going to live here, there's going to be some rules."

"I'm a grown man. I can look after myself."

You gave him a small reassuring smile, setting down his sectioned plate for dinner. "I know you can, sweetheart. But you aren't doing a really good job at it, are you?" He glares at you a little, but he knows you're right. "So, you're on my phone plan, I'm restricting your access to the news. I've noticed it stresses you out."

"I want to keep up to date with everything going on." He protests, almost irritated by your suggestion.

"I do too, but doom scrolling isn't the best way to get that. I have newspaper subscriptions, so you'll always have something to read. You can still watch the news, but it's better to unplug." Simon nods quietly at the explanation as he eats, looking at the sealed cup you'd gotten just for him.

He was already letting you take care of him, and you were doing it pretty well. Maybe he shouldn't protest so much. You gave him a routine. Up at five to work out with you and then help you feed the animals at six thirty before a shower and breakfast. He would sit on his porch for a few hours reading the papers, doing the cross work puzzles, and cutting out the comics he found funniest.

His favorite time was eleven thirty on the dot, when you started setting up afternoon tea. He didn't like the finger sandwiches you made, so you made him his own snack tray with ants on a log, apple slices with caramel, and peanut butter sandwiches without the crusts. Sometimes, you even included pieces of chocolate that he would let melt on his tongue.

You made sure his tea was cold in his vacuum sealed cup so it wouldn't spill. After noticing he didn't like getting things on his fingers, you bought some bug themed food skewers.

"What are these?" He grunts, picking up a small square of peanut butter sandwich by the ant skewer.

"It's your peanut butter sandwich, si." You tease, grinning at the deadpan look he gives you. "Food skewer. Keeps stuff off your fingers."

"They're for kids."

"If you're using them, then they are for you." You shrug as you take a sip of your tea. "Do you like them?" He grunts, eating his sandwich square in one bite. He watches as you grab one of your own, eyes narrowing curiously.

"Yours are heart-shaped." You catch the hint of longing in his tone, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Would you like yours cut like that tomorrow?"

"Yes." He agrees quickly, leaning back in his seat.

"Okay. Do you want to do a puzzle after tea time?" He nods, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, just watching the chickens feed.

Would it kill you to either 1. Tell me which fic this was so I could correct it being properly tagged and 2. Filter your tags so certain posts don't show up in your feed without being censored.

He tried that with you exactly once.

"Oh, so I'm too young for an 'adult conversation' but not for you to fuck me in the backseat of your best friends car? While he drove us home, mind you." Robby short circuits, staring back at you with wide eyes and raised brows. "No, no, don't go silent on me now. Tell me, how immature and childish I am for asking you for a conversation?"

"You're being ridiculous." He scoffs as he rolls his shoulders, trying to releive the sudden tension there. You chuckle softly, shaking your head as you pull your phone out of your pocket. "What, calling a ride?" He presses, trying to see if you would argue with him some more.

"Nope!" You pop the P loudly, opening up your notes app. "The first time we hooked up, Monday, in the storage closet, 5:15 PM. I came once, you came twice. That same day, parking garage, I sucked you off. A week after that at your place, I rode you for almost an hour until you shot blanks -"

"What the fuck are you doing!?" He snaps angrily, snatching your phone from your hand. Typed out, tracked with meticulous detail, was every hook up the two of you had ever had.

"Showing you that you need me more than I need you. If you back out and look at Jack's folder, he's made me cum more times than you!" You giggle as you pull your phone towards your face again.

Robby watches in horror as you click out of his notes tab and open up Jack A. which was above his. "You know, he actually eats me out." Robby drops your phone into your hands, glaring down at you as you start to read off your escapades.

"You think you're funny?" He growls, gipping your chin in a tight grip.

"Kyle, please, stop stop! This is my last pair!!" You shriek in pain as he switches to boucing you into a deeper wedgie.

"Really?? Didn't you just buy two twelve packs of panties?" Kyle hums thoughtful as he cranks your underwear further up your back. "What happened to all of those?"

"You ripped th - Fuck!!" Kyle spanks you, wiggling your jeans down for better access to your ass. Every time you try to speak, he spanks you in time with a brutal yank to your panties.

"You know, you really shouldn't go through clothes so fast. It's a shame your panties aren't lasting longer." Your gut drops at his tone, shuddering when his knuckles brush the back of your neck. "Let's make your last pair special, huh?"

You were still hanging in your closet an hour later, feet scrambling at the wall as you tried to get free. Kyle strolls in, whistling quietly as he opens the grocery bag in his hand. Four new packs of panties that he takes his time folding and organizing in your dresser.

You weren't against the idea of a big family until your ultrasound, where the doctor confirmed two viable fetuses. "Twins?" Kyle gasps as he squeezes your hand, looking at you with a beaming smile. You stare at him wide-eyed, heart jumping in your chest as you look between the screen and his face.

"Two... Wait, no, that's not supposed to happen." You whisper, breath starting to come in short bursts. "We aren't prepared for two kids! Two babies!"

"Hey, hey, hey... Simon already built us one crib he can build another. Look at me, love, look at me." Kyle cradles your face in his hands. "I'm here. I'm here for you, and our babies."

"What if we get them confused? What if they get switched around?"

"They have medical tattoos that can tell them apart, it's okay."

"We're going to give them tattoos!?!"

Jack knew that you needed his help. Working in a run-down diner not far from the OR, obviously barely making ends meet, but oh so sweet. Too sweet for your own good. He would've thought a sweet thing like you would know better than to help him to his car in the dead of night.

You'd already clocked out; it's not like they would go sniffing for you, and Jack already knew the cameras didn't work. "How much did you give her? She's out cold." Robby chuckles as he nudges his cock into your hole, shuddering at the tight warmth sucking him in.

"Enough. She needs to be groggy when she wakes up so we can place her catheter." He explains, rubbing his thumb over your lax tongue. "So perfect, don't you think?" You let out a whine as Robby bottoms out, your unconscious body still registering the stretch down bellow.

"Haven't been hard in ages." Robby groaned, nuzzling the top of your head to breathe you in. Jack was glad he had waited and learned enough about you so that he could make you comfortable. He was a greedy, selfish man who wanted you all to himself and his brother, but he wasn't evil.

He wanted your transition here to be as smooth as possible. "Ease up on her brother, I want a turn with her next before she wakes up."

When you stir awake, you immediately let out a small pained cry at the aching between your legs. "Shh, shh... Don't tense up. You can't really, you have muscle relaxers in your system." You force your eyes open, stomach dropping when you realize you recognize that voice. The voice from the diner.

Jack.

"Wha - Ja -" A rough palm cups your lips shut, squeezing softly when your eyes flicker in panic.

"Don't try and talk now." You didn't recognize that voice, whimpering when you feel that small ache again. "Jack needs to focus on placing your catheter... Can't have you wondering around all drugged up."

You wish you could move, but no matter how hard you begged your body, there was no response. Why was this happening? Why was Jack doing this to you? "That's it. It's going to inflate now, sweetheart." Jack's voice was so soothing despite everything that was happening, sobbing into the palm sealing your mouth shut when you feel something start to expand slightly in your bladder.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad." Robby softly shakes your head, only letting you go once the catheter was fully placed. "Alright, brother. I'll come check on her after work. See you when you get in tonight." You watch through half lidded eyes as the other man walks away, grabbing his bag before he heads out of the room.

Jack watches as you try to speak again, tears filling your eyes as your brain puts together what's happening to you. "Oh, sweetheart..." He coos lovingly as he swipes your tears away. "No, don't cry... This is good for you, sweetheart." He assures with that same warm smile that convinced you he was safe in the first place.

Simon was a gentle lover. You might not have guessed that by looking at him, and most of the other women were too scared to serve him. The madame made sure his needs were met by throwing him you, the finest piece of meat he could get for the gold he was paid.

When he laid you down in the bed, he took his time with you, training his calloused fingers over your quivering tummy. "You tremble... in fear or arousal, love?" He rumbles, lips pressed to the curve of your ear. He hadn't given you a chance to respond before his hand bullied it's way between your legs.

Simon came often, and he came for you only. If you were busy, he would wait, turning down any of the girls who did muster the courage to approach him. You started to look forward to his visits, to feel his mouth against yours, and his thick cock dragging through your cunt... He would whisper the sweetest things to you, promises to take you all for himself.

"Dress you in the finest silks, love... You'll have a garden to spend your days in, you would like that, yeah?" Simon rumbles as he thrusts into you, nibbling your collar bone. "I'll take you away from all of this, love, I promise. I'll make sure you're only mine."

The weekly visits came to a halt when spring started early one year. He told you he would be leaving, at least. Wrapped in his arms as he held you on his chest. "I'll come back for you, love. You will wait for me, yes? Wait for me to return, be good, and I will take you away."

"Please don't be gone long." You whisper as you press your ear to his chest. You drank in his warmth, the sound of his heart gently thumping in your ear. The two of you lay tangled for as long as you can, reluctantly pulling yourself away from him when the morning finally came. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll return for you." He vowed, and then he was gone.

He was gone for years.

You didn't want to lose hope, but after the first year of no letters, no sign from him, your heart began to break. Year two is when you make peace with him being gone. When the men who pay for a night with you leave, you clutch your pillow tight and cry. If you try, you imagine you can still smell him. That you could still feel his heartbeat underneath your ear and his lips softly trailing between your legs.

"Ladies!! Line up!" You lurch into position, arms locked behind your back as you watch the doorway. Madame glares down her nose at her woman, tapping her riding crop roughly against the thighs of those who won't stand still. "Come in, sir. Take your pick of the litter."

When he steps inside, you can feel the air get thick. His mask was skull patterned. It looked almost adhered to his face as he thumps into the room. His boots echo on the wooden floor, sword swinging slightly as he turns to face the line. "Which of our ladies would you -"

The satchel of gold lands with a heavy thump, shillings tumbling over the top onto the desk. "Her." Your heart leaps nervously, eyes flickering from the masked man to your Madame. "Want her to keep."

"Sir, I cannot -"

"You want my money?" He turns his intimating body towards her, which makes her instinctively step back.

"Yes, sir." He grunts, turning back to you and carefully taking your hand