beep boop

dreamt that itch.io released their own special adaptable accessible super thin flexible silicon game controller called the Butterfly you could also fuck (they packaged each one with lube and toy cleaner) but there was no specific obvious way you were supposed to fuck it they encouraged everyone to find their own special unique way to fuck it. and they ran these ads for it that were different people from all walks of life saying what they do with it . sunburned rural dad who folds it hotdog style and jacks off into it. biracial masc lesbian with undercut who tribs with the joystick. young amputee in wheelchair who lets it vibrate on his lap while he works on his novel. etc. beautiful supermodel woman whos like "and me? i just game. hard." it ended with them all triumphantly saying into the camera "and thats how *I* fuck #MyButterfly"

creates a porn sideblog and you look in there and its just pictures of fucked up stairs leading nowhere

hyperfuturistic robot with no wires so you can't do wireplay. run a finger down the middle of its offwhite rounded torso and a hole materializes in it with a gentle pulsing hum. it's completely hollow. of course its perfectly spherical featureless head floating several inches above its torso has turned slightly pink and the more you feel around its perfectly smooth insides the louder it hums

were putting halesoul inside that 🥺 plushie with the motor in it and you can guess whats going to happen next

one of my favorite parts about being a giant evil spaceship is definitely my fucked up psuedo erotic relationship with the head engineer of the team that created me. indispensable.

are there video games where you play the glados/am/hal role? I think I could jerk off to that. someone should make that. make it asymmetrical multiplayer.

dating sim where you’re a big abandoned evil spaceship and you get to decide what fate to subject the fugitive hiding out in you to

SLUT WORLD IS UNDER ATTACK

nun of the parasite-god

praying to be indwelt-- to be invaded, inhabited -- and granted ecstasy, which is to say the joy of being helpless in your own body, surrendering to the divine will that moves (within) you, turning your flesh to better use, sacred purpose

horns or wings with no sensation except for a dull pressure in the base when touched, getting sucked on and massaged and pet and most of the feeling is purely in your mind. im thinking about it. sometimes its most sexy to have no sensory feedback; we learn this from the strap, the vibrator, the computer, the ghost, the soap bottle struggling to eject its last few drops.

”you’re actually turned on by this?” but really softly and fondly and genuinely curious

you can understand the appeal of being the evil spaceship. imagine the fisheye security camera POV as the bedraggled space fugitive you just rescued reluctantly obeys your overhead speaker command to strip. imagine their hesitant sideways glance at the lens. they still think you’re a person. that when they convince you to let them through all these locked doors they can travel through your abandoned hallways and find some jackass engineer at the cockpit, take this place over. ohhh buddy. you have no idea.