hey i’ve been getting some questions/comments about this so:
i am done collecting data at this point!!!!! thank you all for your contributions my beloved interview participants, other informants, and disciples!!!!!!
this blog is 100% my fan space now with occasional thesis updates. nothing else i reblog is going in the paper
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Cumulus looks so beautiful below you, laid out. Your eyes dart across the ghoulette’s body in flashes, greedy to take her all in, the sprawl of her limbs, the sinuous shape of her curves, the dark patch of hair between her legs, the spill of her bright hair across the pillows. She sucks in a happy breath as you bend your body over hers, pushing your leg between her soft smooth thighs, running your hand down her arm to circle her wrist. A shudder sweeps through her as your breath hits her throat, sending a matching thrill through you. She smells of candle smoke and incense here, where her hair lies heavy on her neck and her pulse beats. Your teeth drag across the side of her neck, biting down into the soft flesh where her neck meets her shoulder, and she lets out another soft little cry that goes straight to your core. The smell seems to overtake you as you nuzzle closer.
Her body is so warm, enveloping you as you press closer to her, eager to remove any distance between the two of you, needing skin on skin. You marvel at how plush she is - your fingertips sink into the flesh of her ribs, her hips, her ass, and she’s still making those little happy noises and you feel like you’re on fire. Her skin is downy soft beneath your hands as you skim one hand up over her belly, between her beautiful, perfect tits, around her throat again, to the back of her neck, gripping a fistful of her hair by the roots. She makes a keening noise, so willing to please, her hips bucking up towards yours, back arching, soft breasts mashing into your own. You press your face between those magnificent tits, breathing hard, and her smoky scent becomes thicker here, a wood fire. “I’d gladly die here,” you think, and Cumulus’ warm rich laughter lets you know you said that out loud. You laugh too, pressed against her skin, kissing and biting at every inch of skin you can reach. Your free hand moves to one breast, absolutely manhandling her at first, her nipple pebbling against your palm, trying and failing to take all of one tit in your hand, lost in her.
You’re pulled out of your reverie as she grinds herself against your thigh, her sudden heat and slickness a shock to your system. She’s already so wet for you, and your own cunt throbs in response. She looks up at you, cheeks flushed, lips red from the way she’s been biting them, mouth falling open. “Please?” she breathes, and the sound goes right to your core. Your kiss is hard, teeth against soft lips, but she only grinds harder against your leg, her soft places ready to take all your roughness and beg you for more. She cries out against your mouth as you trace one thumb around her nipple, rolling it between two fingers, tugging at it, then switching to the other. You’re still holding Cumulus by the hair, still refusing to give her what she wants, but she’s riding like her life depends on it, her hips shuddering with need. Your smile feels like it’s going to crack your face in two as she kisses you, desperate.
She cries out in a tone just shy of bratty as you pull your entwined bodies apart, releasing her hair, pressing her knees wider, raising yourself to your knees above her. There’s a good-sized shining wet patch on your thigh, and you trace two fingers through it reverently, bringing them up to your face. She watches you, lips parted, as you slide the fingers into your mouth, tasting the spicy heat of her core. Her cunt always reminds you of cloves or chai or nutmeg, and you can’t get enough of the taste of her. She’s pouting, likely wishing you’d let you taste instead. You chuckle and watch her pupils blow wide at the sound, and the next thing she knows you’re biting and sucking and kissing your way up those thighs, the clove cigarette scent of her arousal growing stronger.
She is so soft and pliable beneath your hands, and the sounds she makes as you touch her light you on fire. The need is too strong for both of you, and you give in to what you both want. You run your tongue, wide and flat, from her asshole up to her clit, and she sucks in air. Teasing her, you press your nose into the soft curling hair on her mound, the very tip of your tongue darting over her clit, coaxing it out, tracing her folds. Scraping your teeth so gently across her nub, holding her thighs as they shake on either side of your head. Your arms wrap around her legs, muscles working to keep her still as she tries to press your face deeper into her core.
“So greedy,” you whisper against her, just before you relent, giving her two fingers, and at once, most of her body relaxes around you, while she squeezes around your fingers, her burning-hot wetness making you hiss a low oath. You start rambling nonsense, but the truth is the velvet-soft heat of her makes you incoherent every time. She looks so fucking good on her back like that, her eyes wide and her need so plain. She’d do anything to keep you touching her, and her cunt has your fingers in a vise grip. You scissor your two middle fingers inside of her, cooing praise for her to open up a little more, your pinkie and index finger tracing her pillowy outer labia. Every part of you sinks into every part of her, so wrapped up.
With every stroke of your fingers, she gets wetter and wetter, soaking your palm. “I love to feel you open up,” you tell her, and she shudders beneath you. “More fingers,” she breathes, and you slide a third finger inside of her. It’s immediately not enough - she asks you again for more, louder this time. “Brat behavior won’t work,” you scold her, and she cries out, indignant, as you remove your fingers.
You know she can take everything you have to give her, know she wants it harder and rougher than this, but it would kill you to hurt her. And, selfishly: the way she writhes and begs is so fucking hot, It would kill you in a different way to do anything other than take your time with Cumulus. You lean over the edge of the bed and fish out the Hitachi, and a satisfied smile stretches across the ghoulette’s face as you set it to a low rumble on her clit, then give her your fingers back. She throws her head back, her chest heaving with her ragged breaths as you stretch her open, your fingers pushing against her walls, her hips rising to meet your hand as you stroke her. You let her direct you for a bit, obligingly pressing and stroking the spots she wants, until she’s wet and open enough for your thumb, too, your hand curling into a fist inside of her. She chokes out a moaned sob, and you still, letting her get used to the fullness, her inner muscles flickering over you.
Her body starts to relax in earnest, surrendering around you, her cunt so hot and tight around your fist, closing and squeezing even tighter around your wrist. “Such a good girl,” you whisper, and her eyes flutter closed at your praise. “You take me so well, baby. Do you like being so full of me?” She gags out a yes, your hand inside her clearly drawing all of her attention, and you wait until she pushes herself further down on you to start moving again. You love the way you can make her jerk and shake, the way you turn her into your puppet queen. “You’re so beautiful spread open like this for me,” you tell her, and she arches her back more, her thighs shaking with the effort of pushing her hips up to you. “More,” she begs, and you give Cumulus what she needs, turning the vibrator up and pressing hard on the spot she’s guided you towards countless times. She clenches and unclenches on you, and you laugh and tell her not to cut off the circulation to your hand. She looks so far gone you’re not sure that she knows English anymore, and you give it to her harder, each breath shoving out of her in a soft hiss.
Your muscles are burning, Cumulus needs it so hard it’s a full-body workout, but the way she tightens up more and more on you, so fucking hot around your wrist, is more than worth it. You debate edging her again for a second, debate threatening her not to cum just to see what she’ll do, but before you can even issue the command her eyes lock onto yours, her mouth open, drool sliding out the corner. You match her thrusts, pushing up as she pushes down, and suddenly she’s boneless and squirting, hot fluid pouring down your arm, dripping off your elbow. A scream tears out of her throat and you keep working her, more and more liquid pooling beneath your knees, your arm quickly becoming soaked. A laugh breaks out of your mouth, she’s so perfect and beautiful like this, you’re cooing her name, “Cumulus, Cumulus, baby, princess, angel, you’re so good, such a good girl, squirt for me,” and she’s still screaming herself hoarse and absolutely covering you in her juices. You let her take the lead, so subtly, and she’s so far gone she doesn’t notice anyway, her hips setting your pace, your body at her command, as you wring orgasm after orgasm out of her.
You know she’s finished when she’s totally limp, shuddering at your slightest movement, unable to bear the vibrator even on the lowest setting, and the tears are sparkling on her eyelashes. She always cries after squirting this hard; the release is so powerful. Slowly, so slowly, and as gently as if she’s made of glass, you slide your hand back out of her, the cold air a shock to your fevered skin. She’s got her eyes closed still, lying back in a puddle of sweat and squirt, but you can’t help but stare at her reddened folds, at the way she took so much of you, as you slide your soaked hand back out. She’s so open, limbs starfished out, cunt fully on display for you, a sight that never gets old, pink insides glistening and fucked out. You can’t help but run your tongue over the palm of your hand, one more taste of her, before you tuck your body to the side of hers, holding her while she drifts off to sleep.
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academia is fun as hell actually (lying) bc today I think I finished my 10,000 word doc on why the university should let me start writing my actual thesis/dissertation
which would feel like a weight off, except, I now have to do my presentation on what my dissertation will be about for a symposium
here is what I have so far
image ID: Mist Ghoulette holding a pride flag and Swiss, Rain, and Aurora (???) holding a trans flag with the Ghost logo printed on it, with the text "It's about queer joy" superimposed over them
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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