microposting

@microposting.bsky.social

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“Jesus…” Spencer muttered. How had he been this into this guy for this long without realizing it? The excitement every time they got to collab, the anxious need to make him laugh… He rubbed his thumb between Nick’s nipples and dragged it down his stomach. In a sudden aggressive urge, Spencer shoved Nick down onto his back and leaned in. Spencer laid his full hand against the little torso and pressed it into the pillow, feeling the hard cock pressing back against the soft base of his thumb. Nick tried to adjust himself underneath, but when Spencer pressed down harder, he took a sharp breath and laid still. He panted and his eyes darted around Spencer’s face, but his expression was unreadable. Spencer’s dick throbbed.
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Mark said. The hands snuck ever closer. Claire bit her lip. They seemed to take that as permission, and their thumbs approach to fondle one breast each. Mark laughed heartily. “Woah.” “Just like full size, huh?” Kelan teased back. Claire giggled. She was so, so sexy.
“Cause humans don’t dress like that.” “Really now?” He brought her into his bedroom and gently set her down on his bed. She giggled as she sunk into the comforter. Tim threw open his closet. “What do humans dress like?” “Um… they wear shirts with a lot of tiny buttons.” He pulled out a pinstripe button-up. “Like this?” She nodded and bit her lip. Tim opened a dresser drawer and grabbed a dark blue tie. “Maybe one of these?” “Yes! Yes yes yes.” Uh
They were both silent on the walk back to their room. Nick was a hot little ball of shame tucked away in his hand, probably in no shape to string a sentence together. But Spencer was... if he opened his mouth, he worried it would slip out. This sick pleasure, fermenting in his chest. Nick was traumatized. Spencer was intoxicated.
Brooklyn licked her lips and pressed her thumb against one cheek. The shrinkee squealed. “No! No, no, please, don’t! I-I can pay you, I─” “Sh.” And she shut up, just like that. Brooklyn giggled. She squeezed her ass a little harder and massaged it in a circle. The lady whimpered weakly, like an animal, fuck. A firm tap, and she gasped. A full flick, and she yelped. She pulled uselessly on her bindings. Brooklyn flicked her a few more times. She shouted and writhed, and Brooklyn beamed.
“Your jacket’s so awesome,” Persephone said. “Thanks. Uh…” She searched her outfit, again lingering on her chest. Persephone’s shirt was black, sheer, and tight, with her exposed bra framing the bulky charm resting on her cleavage. An oversized bomber jacket, purple with handpainted solar systems, hung loose off her shoulders. The punk gulped. “That’s, uh, nice top.” Persephone smiled. “Thanks.” In a casual blip, the woman vanished unnoticed. Persephone gasped and squeezed her thighs together. Those squirms, so delicate, pressed tight against her tit… The spikes dotting the battle jacket were like electric shocks to her nipple. She looked down and couldn’t help but moan, seeing the little lump in her bra move around. God, was it really that easy?
forced doll fucking would be soooo fucked up with doll tf actually. your fellow shrunken captive gets a little too rebellious and your owner snaps their fingers. they abruptly freeze, limbs stiff and straight, and clatter to the ground. you rush up to them, feel their cool smooth skin, look at the passive empty smile on their face. the sockets at their joints. you’re not sure if they’re conscious in there or if their brain was frozen too or if they’re just dead. your owner seems bored by the whole process. they pick you up and force you to straddle their smooth crotch. “I think your friend needs to relax a little,” they say. “how about you help?”