terrible side blog

the "milkman" is a common figure in stories depicting a woman's infidelity and adulterous affair.

this implies that the ability to provide milk would both decrease the likelihood of a man abandoning his wife and children, as it would eliminate the need for leaving to get milk AND would secure that man's marriage, as his wife would have no need to seek milk from an extraneous source.

therefore, all men should produce milk, through various means such as:

- being a cow

- being an almond

- being a woman

- being a coconut

- being in the omegaverse

- being an oat

(list is exemplary and not finite)

i'm an adult and i am a beast and i want to fuck like one. i want to pin down a human and decide whether to eat them or fuck them. i want to drown their body in sloppy kisses with a prehensile tongue as long as their arm and savor their little whimpers as the conical papillae on my tongue dig into their sensitive spots. i want to dig my snout into their crotch and sniff to determine if they're worked up enough or if i have to open them with my tongue first. i want to feel them clench and spasm around my tongue as i pull it out and mount them and dig my claws into their hips to hold them still. i want to feel their warm skin on my soft underbelly as i slide deeper than anything is meant to go in them and bite down on their neck to hold them still while i use them

i want to wrap them in my wings and tail after and cradle them and coo over them as they kiss my snout and playfully try and fail to struggle free. i want to preen their hair and nibble their ears and gently bite at their hand when they pet me

He enthousiastically pulls his catch aboard his little fishing vessel, eager to properly lay eyes on the creature.

Realising a few seconds too late he's made a critical error, there's nothing he can do when a strong, frenzied merman--clearly in heat--grabs him by the belt.

Mere minutes after he spotted the unexpected bycatch, his pants are around his ankles and he's speared on the merman's throbbing cock.

He'd worry if he wasn't out of his mind with pleasure.

By the time he knows which way's up again, the merman is disappearing over the side with a splash.

Sprawled against the rough wood, the fisherman looks down at his poor, overstuffed belly. His shakily exploring hands find that squishy mer-eggs have little give when packed in this tight. And there's slick dripping from his still senstive hole.

He looks around, lost. So much for fish...

Three months later, the fisherman's little problem weighs on him even more. He looks properly pregnant now, belly showing through any number of thick coats and sweaters. The... spawn has come alive inside of him, thrashing and squirming under his skin.

He can't fish like this, but one morning he wakes to an inexorable pull towards the sea.

By the time he reaches the water's edge, his belly is cramping up and he's dripping wet between his legs. It's all he can do to pull off his shoes and pants and sit in the surf, groaning against the waves of pain and unexpected pleasure.

Soon, weight has shifted down into his pelvis, and something is crowning.

He's far too busy to notice anyone coming closer, until suddenly the merman is in front of him. It's definitely the same one, although he looks clear-eyed and curious now.

Strong hands lift and part the fisherman's legs, and he sobs with relief when the first egg pops free.

The next one arrives much faster, and after the third and fourth, there's a nearly continuous stream of eggs that don't allow him to catch his breath.

Once he's finally empty, it takes a long while before he can sit up again. When he does, there's a small group of merpeople a little way off, clearly carrying the eggs--which look disappointingly small given the pain he went through--away into the sea.

The original merman is still here, now running his hands over the fisherman's crotch and belly as if to check for any stragglers.

Satisfied that the whole haul has been laid, he swims away, leaving the fisherman to splutter indignantly at his retreating silhouette under the water.

It takes quite a while before the fisherman is back out on the water, and he curses at himself whenever he pulls a net over the side and some part of him is watching for any signs of merpeople.

Luckily, he's quickly distracted by a merman pulling himself onto the boat.

It's not one he's seen before, but the crazed look and obscene, swollen cock are all too familiar.

When the fisherman pulls down his own pants, he tells himself he's just surrendering to the inevitable, but soon his traitorous body sings with pleasure at every egg settling into his belly.

I shifted, but barely. A few patches of fur and I think a tiny bit of a muzzle. Its hard to remember details. It felt like an altered state, but sharper? I can remember how I felt in detail, but everything else is too blurred. I just remembered biting werewolf boyfriend and being surprised that my teeth were further out from my face.

Shifting didn't hurt, but it did feel weird. Maybe that will change. I don't know.

Both me and werewolf bf were surprised by my dick. When he saw it werewolf bf turned and presented himself to me. Ive topped him before, but this was different, it was MY cock in him. I mounted him and came almost immediately. That doesn't stop me. One of the many benefits of being a trans guy, I come until im tired of it.