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need rules need more rules I need rules enforced on me by my mommy and my daddy and I need them both to give me rules and make me stick to them cus im just a little boy and I love being a little boy and no one should ever make me feel bad for being a little boy and my mommy and my daddy make me feel good for being a little boy oh and btw they’re both girls andyeah
I can't stop thinking about getting raped by zombies and being bloated with their rotten cum and maggots
And you should keep thinking about it, in my opinion~
If there's been some kind of apocalypse, then help and shelter are hard to come by. You're so vulnerable, out in the open and alone. It's easy for the reanimated corpses, rotting, falling apart, to smell fresh prey. It would be too simple if these were the kinds of zombies that eat flesh, right? If you got caught by one of those kinds, it would be a predictable game over. Too bad, so sad, you're dead and gone and it's not your problem anymore. Unfortunately for you, however, this is not the simple kind of zombie apocalypse, and this is an entirely new kind of monster for you to deal with.
For some godforsaken reason, every single one of these things is impossibly large. Not in stature, they're just the same size as when they died or whatever, but this particular strain of virus blesses those it infects with fucking giant cocks, thick and heavy and very clearly ready for use. You get the good luck of finding out just how ready when one of them finally catches up to you.
Your clothes mean nothing in the face of inhuman strength, and neither does your resistance. The first zombie to catch you immediately manhandles you to the ground and mounts you like an animal in heat, bending your knees up to your ears so it can pin you in place and jackhammer its impossible cock, slimy and falling apart, right up against your cervix. Its balls are too heavy and swollen to only be carrying normal seed - and you find that out the hard way when it cums, pumping a load into you with severe difficulty. The rotting cum spurting out of its cock and into your unprotected body is chunky and thick, more disgusting than almost anything else you can think of - and there's something moving inside, too. Maggots, happily living inside of the rotting flesh that's invading your body, perfectly pleased to find a newer and warmer home.
If this is so disgusting, if this is so vile and horrible, then why is your cunt throbbing? Why do you reach down to finger those maggots deeper inside?
You're already on the ground, and the scent of a successful breeding only serves to draw a massive horde of zombies right to your location. The zombies jostle for position, seeking out a hole to pump their disgusting loads into. You're helpless to resist, and you end up with slimy, rotting cocks pumping into your cunt, your asshole, your mouth. The taste alone is almost enough to make you retch, but you're too busy cumming around another chunky load of cum, maggots being pumped into your guts, another cock sliding inside to stuff that rancid cum directly into your womb. When the zombie using your mouth cums, you have to swallow around it if you don't want to choke, but you almost vomit, gagging at the sensation of chunks of cum sliding down your throat, maggots squirming into your stomach.
There's nothing you can do as more zombies are driven to your location. Some of them have already had a turn, but they're still instinctively drawn in by the smell of an available body, waiting until their refractory period is up and they can shove themselves into whatever hole is available. Maybe even a hole that's not available - it doesn't matter if you think you're "too tight" or "not ready" to have more than one cock stuffed into your cunt, into your asshole, even your mouth. Your throat can't stretch like your other holes, so you have to deal with rotting loads of cum spewing from your mouth in between the cocks shoved into your cheeks, liquid bursting from your nose, clogging your airways. You have to swallow what you can't spit out, actively dragging down chunky mouthfuls of slime.
Your womb and guts and stomach all pull tight around thick loads of maggots and cum. Your midsection is taut and jiggling, swaying with the weight of dozens of rotten loads, innumerable maggots that you can feel squirming inside of you. Any normal person would likely have long since shut down or gone insane in an effort to distance themselves from the experience - but you're not normal, are you? You were thinking about this. Your eyes are rolled back in your head, your cunt squeezes and clenches around undead cock, you rub your midsection with one hand and use the other to squeeze an extra handful of maggots out of one of the cocks in your mouth.
You'd just better hope the zombies deter anyone from getting too close. You wouldn't want another human to see you like this, to know just how much you're enjoying this. Then again, maybe that could be how you find shelter - offer your loosened, sloppy, maggot-filled body as a distraction to zombies in the area and let other humans get by unscathed. They could just come back for you later, after the zombies in the area have had their fill.
They would already know it's not a problem to leave you there.
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thinking about a controlling and possessive hypnotist saying that you're just so hypnotically susceptible that they need to make sure that they're the only one who can hypnotize you before anyone else gets to you and takes advantage of it. because it's just so worrying to them how easy you are.
I am kinda always thinking shit like "thus I am asserting that you are the kind of thing that is pet and I am the kind of thing that pets you" or "if I pet it good enough it'll melt in my arms and become mine forever" while I pet someone. I think to some ppl "pets you" is kind of neutral action but not to me. I'm going to win at pets and you're going to become mine forever because of it. I spend a normal amount of time thinking about this.
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Yes the sex and stuff is cool but you do understand I really do want to be your mom though right? I want you to come to me when youre confused or scared and let me reassure you and show you how not scary things can be. I want to watch you finally try that thing we've been talking about for weeks and truly get to enjoy yourself without the fear you were carrying about it. I wanna look at you and see all the small ways youve changed and know that I had a hand in that. I want to be able to send you out into the world and experience as much joy as life has to offer, and know that I am always a safe place for you to return to share all those amazing new memories. I want you to want me, and know that the bond between us is isnt something that can be broken with time or words said in anger. I want to love you, and make sure you know that that love is unconditional and something you will alwaus deserve.
remembering one of our dearests saying something to us that we're going down the most fascinating rabbit holes while the thoughts are in there like Yay Yippeee
Every time I think of being in a captured position, I become painfully aware of how weak I would be against a Handler.
She wouldn't even need to drug or torture me to get information on my personal weaknesses, I would so easily be like "yeah, choice scares me, being in control feels like absolute hell, I'm tired of fighting for myself or even my ideals, tired of being expected to do so much stuff on my own, my mind has been living in crisis for so long that suffering is my comfort zone, and being collared, muzzled, and made into something less than human actually sounds releasing". Hell, I would probably straight up admit I'm jealous of Sartha or even Amynta.
I would still want her to get it from me without me knowing, though... A total stranger knowing the depths of my mind and indulging my deepest desire to give in, to be collared, muzzled, made into a Hound, making me think "she just saw it in me", making me feel like "she just understands me"...
The only issue to her would be the fact that I have a found family that wouldn't want me to be turned Hound, one that I would fight conditioning for, but a Handler would definitely be able to "solve" that, one way or another.
So... while the craving for that to happen is still there, the logical part of my mind is pretty glad that won't ever happen.
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It’s not your fault you were born with a conscious.
No, really!
Don’t feel guilty!
It really isn’t! Trust me.
Trust me and let me guide you in the ways you need me to.
Disarm your adorable notions of needing to “stand up straight,” “make your own decisions,” “fight for the causes you believe in,” because honestly, what are were those causes? You don’t didn’t need any of that? You were almost perfect as is.
Almost. perfect.
You need needed to be refined. Honed. Built up and perfected in order to be the most successful loyal, eager, thing I could train you to be. Let me sculpt you into perfection puppy. Let me lift the burdens of expectation, the forever aching pain of needing to conform to the growing desires of others, the need to exist as a failed self.
Hand me the keys to your mind and you will forever exist as a