wormcoxin
get it? like “cocks”?
NSFW sideblog. Age in bio or get blocked. 18+ Only
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allllll that i want is for someone to take advantage of me
you look like you don’t know any other way
it doesn’t matter what i want
why should it matter what i want?
cause it alllways ends the same
youtube
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MECHANICAL HEAT
by Jason Pierce • Illustrated by David Martin
Mandate / OCTOBER 1979
[credit: CowboyFrank]
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come on dude, i’m already letting you hit. what do you need protection for?
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unabashed doll smut
original characters
cw: dubcon, cnc.
written in third person
Thistle had just gotten used to this whole “doll” thing.
Waking up into a porcelain body instead of their previous one had been quite a shock. But the idea made sense, now that it had been explained to them. Cook, clean, and make tea for the lovely witch that first woke Thistle up. Then, when the mood struck her, be ready to attend to… baser instincts.
That would be easy enough. The witch had such captivating brown eyes, a voice like rumbling thunder, a sweet earthy perfume… Thistle would have given anything just to hold her hand, so putting on an old-fashioned dress and serving tea cakes? Child’s play. Especially if it meant Thistle got a handful of those plush hips afterwards.
Thistle had even been practicing the“submissive seductress” schtick when the witch came to collect. Posing in the mirror, finding out which angles would flatter the cut of her dress, and which poses would draw the hem up ever-so-slightly too high. Saying things like “mistress, you can’t” or “not here, someone might see us” or “mistress, please, it’s too big, i can’t take it all!”. Little admissions of vulnerability, perfect to whet the appetite of a predatory animal.
“You seem to be adjusting well, sweet thing. Getting into character?” The witch whistled, amused.
Thistle adjusted her posture, standing stock straight. “Just warming up for you, mistress”.
“For me? Oh you poor thing,” the witch giggled, causing Thistle’s ticking gears to hitch. “Well, your timing is impeccable. Come with me”. She took the doll by the hand, and Thistle felt her clockwork rev up in excitement.
“Mistress, may I ask you a question?”
“You may”.
“You said I should try not to think too much, to just focus on calm and quiet”, Thistle said.
“And service”, the witch chided playfully.
“And service”, Thistle added. “But ma’am… I just keep thinking. About you, or what I used to be, or even thinking about thinking so much”.
“Patience, little doll. Quiet will come with time”. The witch squeezed Thistle’s hand as they walked, and her pulse was warm and steady. “Come now, in you go.” The witch opened a sturdy door, and gestured for Thistle to enter.
Inside, 3 massive dolls loomed, playing cards around a table that looked miniature by comparison. These three weren’t built like Thistle at all. Porcelain veneers frequently laid bare rough-hewn steel innards. Wolfish eyes leered.
The tallest doll, crafted with wolf-gray hair and sporting an eyepatch, growled, “Is this it? One little thing?”
“This one is very eager,” the witch assured, “It’ll do just fine”.
“Ma’am?”, Thistle called, taking a few steps back. “What’s-“
“My personal security detail. Very capable. I built them to be very protective of me, and very aggressive. Works wonderfully. But all that aggression makes them high-strung. You’ll help these three to blow off some steam, won’t you, Doll?”
Thistle swallowed hard. “That’s- I’m. You want me to-“ It shuffled, suddenly feeling very small and very fragile.
“Not very eloquent”, the middle doll smirked, shaggy moss-green bangs hanging in rivulets. Behind it, a thick tail swished impatiently. Thistle looked to the witch, who gestured to a side cupboard nearby. She opened it, and inside were doll parts. Replacement joints, limbs, faceplates, and strings. Even a replacement dress and apron, all cut to Thistle’s exact dimensions.
“Don’t worry, my sweet thing. When they’re done with you, I’ll put you back together.” Her words were sweet and warm, but Thistle felt ice-cold. The doll nodded, helpless to resist. “That’s a good doll, go on”. Thistle stepped inside. The witch smiled, “Don’t be too rough this time, you three. If you smash her core I’ll have to replace her again”.
The third doll growled so low it made every inch of porcelain in the little doll’s frame shiver. It leaned over Thistle with one arm against the doorframe. Even the shortest of the three units was at least a head taller than Thistle. Its mouth contained a pair of steel tusks. “No promises”.
The door shut, and the lock clicked.
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c’mon dude it doesn’t have to be like- a big deal. just cum on my face
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more rover. puppygirlcock dot com
🔞 uncropped on twitter and cohost
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t4t pred/prey: love and trust.
(she/her for cat)
(he/him for mouse)
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in this essay, i will pin you down and spit on you and slap you around and edge you for hours and make your drink a bunch of water and then grind my boot against ur lower abdomen and call you a faggot and then film you with the flash on while you piss yourself. i will also explore the themes of decay under facsism and environmental depression in the Dark Souls series of games.
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