I have 'dead dove' ALL over my blog. Yes, that means I DO write it. I write noncon. I write piss stuff. I write foot stuff. I write all kinds of shit plenty of people in this community list in their rules like it's a cardinal sin.
Guess what? My RP partner has always consented to it and it's fictional, and you have the choice to open the drop down cut to read it or not. I'm not remotely sorry, I'm not going to stop, and I don't give a fuck if you don't like it. Warnings are in my rules and all over my blog.
Nobody is getting hurt. You have every right to set your boundaries. Just know if you approach me and try to take a swing I am going to actually eat your fist off down to the wrist because I'm hungry and I don't care.
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Funny what a few months with a satyr will do to a man. No further invitation needed. He sets down his bag and climbs right onto Omi's lap, facing the goat, hands slipping onto his shoulders for stability until familiar hands support his lower back.
"You didn't text me yesterday. Thought I'd pissed you off somehow." And yet he, too, elected to wait for a response instead of send a message himself. Typical. "Everything good with your household?"
This delicate balance- his life, his job, his friends outside of ending up in the lap of the lord of lust- has become harder and harder to maintain for Lance. Surely Omi's also feeling some pressure.
AKA, let’s talk about the trans body. The language trans people use to talk about their bodies is individual and personal. What is right for him may not be for your muse or yourself. Please don’t assume every trans person operates the same.
The trans body isn’t nsfvv, but as I am discussing sexual preferences I will be putting this under a cut.
CHEST
Gabe has had top surgery. He had a small breast cup size so was able to have it done via the periareolar/keyhole method. This means the incisions were small and around the areola, so the scars are small and not very noticeable. He was lucky on this front. As he has had this chest masculinization done, he doesn’t need to bind. His nipples are not as sensitive as they were before the surgery. It isn’t that he won’t enjoy them being touched and played with, just that it’s duller sensation-wise.
DO- Touch him there! he likes it. Get a handful of pec, even.
DON’T- Refer to his chest using language like “tits,” even jokingly.
BODY HAIR
Being on HRT means Gabe does grow more body hair than he used to, if the beard didn’t give that away. It hasn’t caused balding yet, but it likely will one day. He’s getting a head start on that prep already, clearly.
GENITALS
Gabe has a vagina- labia, clit, all of it. He does not have a dick. HRT causes the clit to grow (known as bottom growth) significantly, so it is bigger than it is for cis women. It can get hard and it can twitch/pulse if he’s aroused. It can’t stand erect, but it will stick out more. You can jerk it between fingers, rub around and under it, flick it, suck on it- exactly what you’d do with a cis clit, just that it is bigger and easier to play with.
HRT can cause vaginal atrophy and dryness. Gabe is doing okay on this front, but he prefers lube be involved anyway. This shouldn’t be an issue since MM sex usually involves it anyway.
LANGUAGE
Gabe doesn’t care what you call his genitals. Whatever feels hottest is right. Cunt, pussy- whatever. It doesn’t bother him.
He is a man. He is gay. Don’t use feminine words (IE “good girl,” he is not a girl) to describe him.
SEXUAL PREFERENCE
He loves anal. He also likes PIV. He also loves oral. Reckless sexual encounters are part of his bipolar, so he has plenty of all of this. You can eat him out if you want to, either hole.
TOPPING
He will top! He will wear a strap or another toy if he wants to or is asked to penetrate. This is no barrier at all.
DYSPHORIA
He doesn’t struggle very hard with this post-top surgery. His vagina does not make him dysphoric. He loves his body. He invites you to enjoy it with him.
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Getting ready for this party had been a treat in and of itself. Mox made it home and dropped into a chair to finally eat something, only for Seth’s hands to knead at his sore shoulders so well he’d melted, for him to gladly slip to his knees, tug at fabric, open his mouth and be still until his lover’s cum painted his tongue, his throat, his palate.
Swallowed, like a good boy.
There was time to shower, and to change, but that’s when Seth’s intentions had become clear.
No shirt. Just the jacket.
Okay. Not so odd. He’s proud of his body, of the hours he’s poured into sculpting it. Besides, this is the sort of party where he knows he’s safe- they’re safe to be themselves. No cameras. No judgment. Some jealousy, sure, but that makes everything sweeter
Pants low on his hips, belt securing them, he’s feeling ready, but not so. Seth, behind him. Seth, gently turning him, murmuring an order to be still, and he is, because even now, even uncollared, he knows when their games are about to begin.
One nipple, pinched, toyed with, pulled. A jingle of chain, and he knows. Oh, he knows. A little noise- a laugh-sigh- gives enthusiastic consent. Looks like he’s getting another decoration before his collar tonight.
So he is still, and he is wanting, and he watches Seth’s hands toy with his nipples with anticipation of the clamps, pulse rabbit-leaping in his chest. He doesn’t need to beg, so he doesn’t. Good dogs get rewarded, and he’ll be sinking into that headspace very shortly…
[ spit ] sender leans over and lets spit drip into receiver’s mouth before kissing them hard (from hangman)
@colby-black-rollins
There are bad decisions with no payoff, and then there’s ending up like this, liquor-breath fervor, throat chain-bruised. He’s found he likes that more than he might have admitted, before.
Back to the closed door, hands grip clothing as he reads intention and meets in kind. No pithy words now, just acceptance, a hitch in breath, and he swears his knees just about give out when he’s got a taste of the man who has so thoroughly derailed his plans for the day.
Then the kiss- breath-stealing, open-mouthed. He shifts his weight enough to feel secure, calloused hand trailing up Adam’s back, fingers slipping into that unfairly perfect hair. (Not that he’s jealous.) He’s bounced against the door hard enough it rattles in the frame. Grins into the contact, too, tongue against tongue, bruising pressure welcome. He’s already covered. Why not kiss-swollen lips, too? A breath, a brief pause, and that kiss cannot get deeper. He moans, inviting it, unconcerned with being the loud one already…