Friendly reminder that allowing underage littles/pets/daddies/mommies/etc your blog if you post NSFW or kink material can get you up to 10 years in prison and can get you on the sex offenders registry for the rest of your life.
It’s called “corruption of a minor” and “pandering obscenities to a minor” and it’s a third degree felony in the US.
To the anon that asked why I ask people to be over 18. This is why.
Please, if you like my blog, just wait until you’re 18 and you can then join in the fun.
She questioned again if answering the ad for a medical study had been a good plan. The clean, modern building had felt so comfortable when she walked in, and becoming a paid test subject was appealing during a rough patch at home.
But as the doctor’s gloved fingers continued their firm, professional pressure, she couldn’t help thinking about the look in his eyes as he locked the stirrups in place and fastened the straps. Had it been sympathy? Something else?
“The buckles are strictly so we won’t have to worry about dislodging the sensors,” he’d reassured her, and she nodded absently as she stared up at the ceiling. She tried not to think too much about the process, the exposure, the touch of his hand…
A cool streak of wetness on her inner thigh startled her from her reverie, leaving her relieved she couldn’t see the doctor’s expression past the bright light. “It’s normal,” he mentioned casually, “to experience some lubrication under the circumstances.” She bit her lip slightly, trying not to blush.
As he finished the manual probe and lifted his hand away, he reached for a tiny bundle from the bulky case beside him. The wrapping made a soft crinkling sound as he held the device on his fingertip. “You may feel a slight prickling or pressure-like sensation as this settles into place. Any pain should be temporary. Once we’re done, the study will receive readings from your system to help us ensure you’re safe. Do you have any questions before we proceed?”
She took three or four deep breaths. She thought about the steady paycheck, the benefits of participating, the chance to contribute to an important study. “No, I’m ready, thank you.”
“Good, then.” With a quick and practiced turn of the wrist, his gloved fingers abruptly squeezed the device inside her. She gasped as sudden heat radiated through her abdomen, then settled to a gradual, steady throb between her legs. As she exhaled softly, the doctor glanced over.
“Welcome to the study, test subject #7.”
Beside the exam table, the computer whirred to life and a panel of green lights appeared. While the doctor made notes on the clipboard beside it, he added kindly, “The clinic does recommend you settle anything urgent in your personal life before the full effect kicks in. Some people have difficulty concentrating during the early stages of the implant.”
She wondered if it was because they kept thinking about the examination. It was so awkward. Why would all those restraints seem necessary? But she felt more than ever that it had been the right choice to volunteer. The procedure hadn’t really hurt; in fact, she felt more relaxed that she had in ages. The throbbing in her nether regions continued to feel warm, perhaps even …pleasant …and she found herself looking forward to the new income stream.
She floated gently back to reality as the nurse unstrapped her ankles and offered her a moist towelette. “Go ahead and clean yourself up, and we’ll see you next week,” he encouraged her, and she found herself smiling happily in response.
She felt so refreshed. Now that she could see the case of nerves had just been in her head, her worrying felt silly. In six days she’d be back, with a fully adapted implant. They’d check up on her, and make sure everything was fine. She knew the consent form had warned that the next phase could be more intense, but the “pain” today had been almost nonexistent, so she had no reason to be concerned about "ongoing gentle stimulation,” as the brochure described it.
Piece of cake, she thought.
It was, in fact, her last coherent thought for quite some time.
When the outreach team found her dreamily humping a chair two days later, a trail of sticky objects littering the floor behind her and the implant functioning with impressive strength, they had to wrestle her back to the exam room.
She began to struggle as the nurse lifted her feet into the stirrups. The doctor murmured, “Everything’s going to be fine, test subject #7,” as he tightened each set of straps. “You may need to stay here with us for a few days, but everything will be fine.” While one hand massaged her dripping sex, easing her back to a state of calm, he jotted notes on the clipboard with the other.
“Subject exhibits standard response to implant,” the new entry read. “To prevent injury, minimum 8-week observation period is required. If rejection does not occur after 8 weeks, test subject 7 may be transferred for personal reconditioning. Initial results appear quite promising.”
The secret to why Ravenclaw’s students get the highest marks. The magical belts would kick into action every night, stimulating, masturbating and fucking the students until finally the one who’d worked hardest and got the best grades that day would be given a climax – usually ruined unless they’d performed exceptionally. At the same moment the belts would deeply and painfully penetrate the worst performing students and leave them stuffed and stretched overnight as an encouragement work harder tomorrow. The belts would be unlocked upon graduation.
Mmmph!
– The students learned to dread summer break because, after nightly stimulation, It was maddening that the belts were completely dormant.
– You can’t be a champion duelist without the capability for quick, decisive, effective, and imaginative responses. Also, Flitwick was the foremost Charms master alive. Any attempt to circumvent the belts earned a punishment that was not only legendary but different each time, uniquely tailored for that particular student.
– No chafing, no poor fits, no hygiene issues. No reason at all for any relief.
– You’d think that most students would be in their beds under what privacy they could get during the belts’ nightly encouragement, but instead the common room was always full, students trying to study hard right up to the last moment, silently gasping as they try to finish just one more assignment before that night’s “winner” is chosen.
– Because of the belts, one might expect Ravenclaw students to avoid sexual encounters. Many do, but most come to realize that sexually pleasing others is one of the few ways to reframe their ever-mounting desires into something positive and fulfilling. Some suspect it’s part of the belts’ magic, but it’s simply how some people are.
– Where others in their first months as a Ravenclaw had a tough time adjusting, Luna Lovegood squealed with delight and would even occasionally confuse many (but not all) of her female first year housemates by intentionally earning a night of punishment. “It’s its own kind of satisfaction, like when you let go to hold on, or vice versa.” Flitwick knew she was smarter than her performance suggested, but didn’t find out why until the beginning of her second year. He squeaked in insight and alarm, and summoned her to his office that evening. Luna spent that night frantically gasping in her bed, twisting, begging, yelping whenever she didn’t stay on top of the covers with her arms and legs spread. From then on Luna tried her best just like everyone else even though it seemed like her nightly stimulation was different than everyone else’s. When her friends asked her what changed, she would only blush in an embarrassed, lip-biting grin and change the subject.
– Most Slytherin-Ravenclaw couples who go on to get married continue orgasm control within their relationship, some light, some extreme.
I don’t see why she’s complaining at the end… She should be glad that she’s finally useful as part of the team, what with having pretty average stats and a meh limit break~
What an obedient kitten she was, completing daily tasks as instructed, and resisting the urge to cum. My God, it has been a week of this delicious, daily torture, and she was about to pop. If the wind blew the wrong way under her skirt, or the seam of her pants were to rub even the slightest, she may just pour one out if she wasn’t careful enough to fend off the aching urge from the sensitivity that physical touch provided. Her mind and imagination were swirling in a chaos of depravity in that everything she saw, heard, smelled, touched or tasted in everyday life felt sexual in nature. Her pussy was a taut bundle of exposed nerves acting as feelers, just begging for it in this wrapped and bound orgasm waiting to be released. Master was in his chair and ordered his kitten before his feet. She handed him the heavy chain link leash attachment with the black leather handle, to which he fastened to her collar. With his kitten sitting on her knees, he strapped a yardstick across her thighs, and fastened a Hitachi vibrator to it within a quarter of an inch from touching her pussy. He turned the vibrator on the highest setting, and then placed a thick dildo with a suction cup base underneath her as she raised her backside up for him. I am only going to say this one time, be sure you follow without fail. The vibrator is not to touch your clit one time, and the head of this dildo will rest against your opening. You must remain still, and neither the vibrator will touch you, nor the dildo be inserted into your pussy. Kitten could feel the buzz of the vibrator so fucking close to giving her what she desperately needed now. The head of the dildo was starting to get wet, and it was taking everything she had to not squat down and fuck herself into a wild frenzy. Master pulled his chair right up to Kitten and unzipped and took down his pants. He pulled her chain right up to him and his fat cock rested right on her bottom lip as she began to whimper and salivate. One last thing Kitten…don’t you dare suck my cock right now. Master pulled out a thick book he had been saving to read when he had time, while Kitten remained in this state of restrained arousal.
Fingering at the same time is always nice, but not in and out, find that gspot and massage it why you lick and suck the clit. I will die.
Touch/grab my thighs, my ass, slowly touch down my spine, everywhere, somewhere. Tease me good before you go down & while you’re down there.
Deadass with the thigh thing Kiss those inner thighs too Pretend you’re passionately kissing the kitty Not a cat drinking water Also don’t even do it if you a)don’t like doing it b)you’re going to do it for 2 seconds
I couldn’t hit reblog fast enough.
Don’t be to shy to open it up and really get the clit. Like if dudes really spread the lips and focused on the clit I would lose my mind
slow down on the flickering thing, that rapid shit isnt pleasurable, slowly running your tongue back n forth tho? Yes.
thigh kissing is nice, ass grabbing, thigh gripping, a little passionate teasing takes you far and honestly gets her wetter by the minute
slow down, take your time at first, dont just dive in, enjoy your meal
that rapid flicking thing doesnt do much for me (i cant speak for every girl) but slow runs across the clit are lovely, just focus on the clit, let your fingers do some work if you get tired or something
I dont know about every girl but that mimic-my-dick-with-my-tongue technique doesnt do shit
Notice how they’ve all basically said the same thing? I hope you men pay attention. Every woman is different but here are the basics to pleasing us.
1. Stop the fucking flicking shit.
2. Focus on the CLIT. Suck it, circle it. Engulf it. If she moans, keep doing that.
3. But pls, do visit thighland. Inner thigh licking and kissing will set us on fire.
4. What is this fingering shit? Massage the gspot or get out. We feel nothing with that little stabbing motion. Also, stop sticking your 2 inches of tongue in there. Come back up to the clit.
5. LONG stokes with the tongue.
6. Stop humming. Most of us use vibrators so that little humming trick you learned from GQ will pale in comparison.
7. Speaking of vibes, the reason you’re in our bed is because you can do 1 thing our wands and rabbits can’t do. And that’s grab us. Grab us, squeeze us, we want to feel your hands on our body.
8. If you can reach, grab a titty.
9. Some women are self conscious about how they look/taste/smell down there. Or worry about taking too long to orgasm, so let her know you’re enjoying it. Moan, groan, sound like you’re eating a plate of ribs
10. Do it til we cum or GTFO!
Oh damn 😳😳💕💕
Why aren’t things compiled and published like this more often??
And more importantly, why aren’t we being told this stuff while down there? Esp those of us who love doing it and doing it right….. feedback, ladies, when we’re there. Please?
I don’t often post shit like this but all of this is important. Guys, you want the goods? Learn to earn it. And please enjoy yourself. If you do it right you’ll enjoy the sheer fact that SHE’S enjoying it.
Taking notes for when I feel like putting some natural facial hair growth serum on my face.
Reblogging for awareness…
Worth another reblog, nothing edges a woman better than a well educated mouth. Nothing.
Here’s my take on how to give cunnilingus like a superstar
This is the original/long-form version of the story that was read so fuckin’ sexily by @digitalswitchgamine at Hysterical Literature of Entranced 2017. (Seriously, it was tooooo goddamn hot. Thank you for that, friend!)Enjoy 😉
* * * * *
Jenny had been on the job for a week when the office got the massage chair, and for another week before she tried it out. It was part of the firm’s new employee health and happiness initiative, along with the new fancy drinks and snacks in the break room, and the inspirational posters going up all over the office that said things like “You deserve to feel good” and “Relax and work right” and “Pleasure is productive.” Still, she held off trying out the fancy-looking massage chair for a bit, out of fear that her new coworkers would think she was slacking. Eventually though, after she saw that the management really was enthusiastic about all of their employees feeling relaxed and well taken care of, and after she saw enough coworkers leaving the massage room with blissful smiles on their faces, she decided to try it for herself.
The massage chair was off in a side room, behind a folding screen, facing a wall. The rest of the room was desks and chairs that were mostly not in use–one man sat tapping away on his computer in the far corner, a serene smile on his face. Feeling a little self-conscious, Jenny slipped behind the screen. After a moment of consideration, she kicked off her shoes, and settled herself into the chair.
Without her even needing to press a button, the chair whirred to life. The footrest adjusted itself incrementally upwards until her bare feet rested perfectly in it, and the seatback adjusted itself similarly. And then the chair started to massage in earnest: the rollers somehow found all the tenderest parts of her back and pressed into her with just enough pressure; the footrest rumbled a massage into her feet, the headrest into her neck, and pneumatic sacs inflated on either side of her arms and her legs, squeezing them deliciously.
She lost track of how long the massage lasted. At first, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how she was here relaxing in this loudly whirring chair while the rest of the office worked, while there was someone working just yards away behind a flimsy folding screen. It became harder and harder to focus on those thoughts, though, and soon she was lost in the sensations, delighting in the feeling of all of the tension in her body being rubbed away.
When the chair clicked back into silence, Jenny drifted back to herself slowly. A blush rose in her cheeks as she remembered her guilt about the rest of her coworkers hard at work while she luxuriated in the massage chair. But she did feel much better, she noticed, much more focused now. Maybe pleasure really was productive, she thought to herself with a smile as she rose on unsteady legs, slipped her shoes back on, and returned to her desk.
FallingUnderASpell 
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