💫swirly💫

"You've got your tits out again, don't you, Kimmie?" Devaughn's voice was silky smooth in Kim's ears, and so warm and soothing like honeyed whiskey that she barely even felt the tiniest bristle of frustration at his condescending nickname for her before it was brushed away by curiosity. She looked down to see that yes, her bikini top had been peeled up, exposing her light brown breasts and stiff, dark nipples, and before she could even think to be embarrassed something in the back of her mind melted into warm, sleepy bliss and she wound up just staring at her own chest for a long, thoughtless moment. The muscles in her jaw relaxed, and it seemed like everything else relaxed right along with them.

Slowly, she remembered that Devaughn had asked her a question, and her words came out in a drowsy monotone as she answered, "Yes. My tits are out again." She felt a fierce tingle in her nipples at the sound of her droning voice, and she was vaguely surprised to discover that both the arousal and the sleepy murmurs were familiar to her; she was used to coming over to Devaughn's house and hanging out at his pool, which was honestly about the only reason she stayed friends with the patronizing man she used to know in high school, but she was certain she would have remembered if she was in the habit of… of…. Oh. Huh. She was drooling into her own cleavage. That was weird.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Devaughn adjusting his swimsuit to let his ebony cock and heavy, hanging balls swing free… but it didn't really seem all that important when compared to the sight of those stiff, aching nipples. They begged to be played with, teased and pinched and sucked, and really that was all Kim could think about right now--but the water was warm from the summer sun, and Kim's whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, and moving felt too much like work. Even when Devaughn asked her, "And what are your tits, pretty Kimmie?" she felt like she floated in soft, sleepy fascination for ages before it finally occurred to her that she needed to answer his question.

Fortunately, she didn't need to think to know the answer, because thought was becoming increasingly difficult. "My tits are my trigger, Master," she mumbled, her voice slurred by the slackening in her jaw, and if she wondered why she was calling Devaughn 'Master' the question was quickly erased by another wave of tingling lust that seemed to pool in Kim's tight, stiff nipples. She was so excited for Devaughn to tell her to play with them. It seemed somehow intuitive and obvious that a command would break the lethargic catalepsy that gripped her and let her hands go to her breasts, and that sounded so wonderful that despite her drowsiness Kim could actually see her breathing quicken.

It was such a joy when Devaughn purred out in response, "That's right, Kimmie, your tits are your trigger. And your nipples are the off button for your brain." Kim knew without being told that his words were a command, an implied insistence that she demonstrate her susceptibility to his suggestions by reaching up and squeezing her stiff nips until her mind shut down and she rocketed into insensate oblivion for her Master. There was a tiny, infinitesimal moment of self-awareness when she realized how vulnerable she'd be when she was empty and open like that, but the need for pleasure was too strong and her hands were already in motion, and once she began to grope herself even the inner narrative of thought finally ceased.

took me a second to put this up <3 features some serious mouth sounds. much longer version on my substar if you're into that (i hope you are <3)

doll tf microfic. cw for dubcon

My words may be honey, but they carry a poison. Soon I am dragging away her ability to think. Drawing out that feral beast as I strip away intelligent thought. The dumber she gets, the hornier she gets. The hornier she gets, the more feral she feels. Like a bloodhound with the scent of prey.

Waiting...

Waiting...

For the signal to chase.

When she's quivering and barking and struggling to keep her sanity, I reinforce the idea of a beast on a leash. In a cage. Waiting to be freed. Waiting for the command to hunt and take what it thirsts for.

As I drop to my knees my lips and tongue continue the teasing my fingers had been doing. I steady myself, pull her hands to my head and feel her fingers in my hair.

By now she's waiting for a command. Any command. She's dumb and horny and feral. She can't think. She only wants to rut and fuck.

So I prepare myself, I open my mouth and set her beautiful cock on my lips. I look up at her and give the command.

And the beast is loose. The dog has let their need take them. She can't control it. She can't do anything but fuck and thrust and groan. No control. No way to stop her now. Not until I feel my pet's cum flow down my throat.

And then my beast slumps back against the wall. I take a moment to recover. I stand. I kiss her and call her my good dog. And then I take her to bed. After all, getting railed like that has given me a mighty need.

All day he'd been asking me to write words for him on my body and all day directing certain letters to be in the 'special glowy pen'. I of course couldn't tell you which was which, that wasn't important. Afterall, I just do what I'm told and thinking about that wasn't part of today's to do list. Reading the words back, I try and find the ones I'm looking for. 'Enthralled', I sigh, 'brainless', 'mindless', the more I read the more each word takes a hold of my mind. Making me feel each and every syllables power over me. 'Powerless', a wave of submission trickles down my spine, 'more' sitting just above 'dumb', 'Yes Sir'. I can't help smile at that. I do love saying yes. All in cute handwriting and with each 'i' dotted with a tiny heart. Maybe I am a bimbo afterall. All these other words and yet, no empty and no bimbo. Weird. "I um, don't see them?" I say shyly. Giggling to myself and twirling my hair. I can't help it. "Have you tried looking with your special flashlight?" He asks with a smug grin. He's playing a trick on me, I know it.

I pick up the flashlight on the table. It's uv reactive and makes things glow. Special uv things. Shining it over the words across both of my thighs the trick comes clear. Shining clear as day in pretty glowy pen are the words 'empty' and 'bimbo'. I giggle. He knows. I've found the trap he laid out for me and walked right into it again, as I do everytime. This wasn't the first time seeing it, hardly would be the last, but the more I focus on those two little, pretty words I get lost in their pull on my mind. It gets 'empty' and I become more of a dumb, helpless, giggling 'bimbo' because its written on me.

It must be the truth.