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"submission_right_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "So like. Trigger warnings. Big ol fat heavy trigger warnings.\n\nAs seems to happen more times than it should when I write stories with a heavy sex element, this shit is going to go into all manner of things you may well not find sexy. Because they weren't written to be the sexy part.\n\nSelf loathing, self destruction, poor self care, minor drug use, all on top of a masturbation and porn cornucopia.\n\nIf at any point you feel you need to stop reading, please go ahead. I promise the next story will make sense still once you get the gist, and I don't want anyone to suffer over my stupid drama-pretending-to-be-smut.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "So like. Trigger warnings. Big ol fat heavy trigger warnings.

As seems to happen more times than it should when I write stories with a heavy sex element, this shit is going to go into all manner of things you may well not find sexy. Because they weren't written to be the sexy part.

Self loathing, self destruction, poor self care, minor drug use, all on top of a masturbation and porn cornucopia.

If at any point you feel you need to stop reading, please go ahead. I promise the next story will make sense still once you get the gist, and I don't want anyone to suffer over my stupid drama-pretending-to-be-smut.", "writing": "Leashed Chapter 15: Kill the Pain Away\nBy TerraMGP\n\n\tSunday was hard. Simon didn’t remember most of it. Just a lot of tooth-brushing and a quick web MD check to make sure that losing so much raw stomach acid, or whatever it had been, wasn’t dangerous. He cried until he couldn’t anymore. He lay collapsed in bed. It took everything he had to make sure Artemis was fed.\n\n\tIt was a lost day.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tSimon was nothing if not meticulous. He sent one message to his boss the night before saying he’d probably have to call in. Then another that day to confirm it. It felt disgusting being that rational. Planning things out the way he did. His life was crumbling and here he was sitting around lying to his boss to get a day off instead of just laying in bed and decomposing. It was one thing to do his routine with Artemis. She didn’t have any say in this. It wasn’t her fault. But he didn’t deserve to go on as if things were normal. He ‘shouldn’t’ be going on as if things were normal.\n\n\tNothing was normal, and absolutely nothing was ok.\n\n\tMaybe that was what propelled him. What pushed him out of bed when the suffering wasn’t enough. When he couldn’t take dwelling on it anymore. He didn’t shower. That’d be stupid. That would make him feel better and Simon absolutely had no intention of that. His gaming chair was home. More than anything the amalgam of pleather, plastic and metal felt right as he slipped in to it. Around him were a few statues of his favorite anime characters, the smaller toys he kept out for easy access and the latest, unopened, pack of poppers he’d snagged off of the internet. He’d been trying to lay off of them. Especially since he had a proper dominant to visit once a week. But now? Why the hell not?\n\n\tHis computer hummed to life. Simon’s shaking naked form starting to relax and slump slowly back. His eyes fluttered. His chest heaved. He pulled a large bottle of water-based lube out from behind the monitor and popped the cap up. \n\n\tTwo monitors came to life. Perverse pictures of girls and feminine boys in bondage filled his view. A girl in an arm binder standing on tiptoe over an electrified pipe, only a chain from her collar to the ceiling keeping her balance. A cute, chubby, femmy guy in knee socks bouncing on a dildo while sniffing a pair of panties. Link and Zelda worshiping Ganondorf’s cock in tandem, as they should. And a gothy goddess stepping down towards the camera in a pair of lacey socks and purple sneakers.\n\n\tSimon dragged that last picture over until it was the one taking up the left side of his right monitor. It was a hot pic. Some gothy bunny girl who pulled off a borderline emo look well. Hoodie and eye patch. Even Invader Zim panties. It also hit all of the wrong buttons right now.\n\n\tHe widened the picture to consume the whole screen, then set the image viewer to slideshow. Next he pulled the headphones from the back of his chair. It was hard finding a pair that worked for Chipmunks and those he had fond still felt a bit uncomfortable as they all but clipped around the ear like earbuds. No sounds started yet. He’d do that later. For now he was getting comfortable. He was removing any distractions. He was returning to ritual.\n\n\tThe quivering pink flesh wasn’t as small as he’d like. Oh, it was hardly porn star sized. The way it twitched t life as the lube shifted the temp around it reminded him of how different it was from most of the femboys, sissies, and subbie trans girls already sprawling past him. Just far enough past the point of average to make him feel ‘inadequate’ in some small way. No real shrinking from a cage. No mild feminizing from hormones to make it cuter or perma-soft. It was just ‘normal’.\n\n\tHe stepped himself from the line of thought that threatened to break though that. He didn’t need to think about Mistress and her preferences. This was about ignoring the emotional wound, not digging around in it.\n\n\tSimon quickly pumped himself up. The familiar feeling of his breath getting shallow. His heart thudding and body squirming as dopamine began to flood him. A pair of twins worshiping either foot of the guy holding the camera. A bunny girl with nasty things written all over her doing the piece sign while a thick fox cock rested on her face, drooling its cum over her cheek and a smeared magic marker ‘pred bait’, A woman holding a blushing hedgehog boy up by his chin. The brown-quilled thing in white silky bridal stockings along with the femmy young stallion behind him. Railing into that cute little ass. Both having the delicious look of arousal and utter shame smeared over their faces.\n\n\tMost of the time he might linger. Let his thoughts run wild about each picture. Try to imagine what he ‘hoped’ the people in it were thinking. But not now. For now it was simply about pleasure. These pictures made him feel good. They made him squirm. They made him feel like pumping. So he pumped. He pumped until he hit the familiar edge, and backed off. Never cumming. He was a submissive little slut. Cuming was too good for him. He deserved to suffer on that edge. To be made into a good little dolly. \n\n\tThe slideshow continued. Thought and effort slowly faded from the process as he pumped his hips. Pre leaking on his hand, but nothing more.\n\n\tHe was a good boy.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tRemixed electronica filled his ears. Simon’s awareness surfaced came into focus with the shameful and wonderful feel of a toy up his ass. A smaller one. His newest little ‘dragon’ friend. His hands were free for this video after all. \n\n\tThe song was painfully simple. A mindless 4/4 beat with a breathy girl on a voice changer. \n\n\t“One, two, three, four. Gonna be a little whore” Followed by an exaggerated, porny moan. Each time the voice did so Simon threw up peace signs and did his best ahegao face. Tongue out and eyes crossed. It was probably bad. That fact the thing sticking in his head as he bounced along to the beat. His poor pleasure button getting hammered only enough to make his shaft bounce.\n\n\tHe could feel his legs burning. That tiny ass ached and his calves felt like they were ready to give out. It didn’t matter. The video told him he was a good slut. He was cute and made boys cum. Not that he actually did. But what domina worth her salt didn’t put a little ‘forced gay’ into the mix?\n\n\tIt was easy to imagine any of these girls behind him, though. Well, any of them that didn’t’ show off their pussies. Thick warm cocks and heavy balls slapping against his own overfull package. Maybe something shoved into his cock-hole because only one of them was going to cum that day, and it wasn’t him. He wasn’t being kind with his own bouncing. The ‘fucking’ shouldn’t be about him after all. \n\n\tThe figure he imagined behind him kept changing in his mind to match what was on the screen. A blonde mink in a fishnet top. A shortstack sugar glider with a big chest dressed in kawaii pastel pink. A lioness with her big poof-ball pigtails dyed cotton candy pink and blue with a split right up the middle. Men would yearn to fuck them. To ravage these princesses with their uncannily doll-like makeup and fur treatments. To hammer their cocks home and claim the sexy toys as their own. But Simon was a boy. He was a sissy. He was week. All he wanted was for them to breed him in time with the tune.\n\n\tHis eyes slipped shut again and he resumed his bouncing. The lids opening to another sexy e-girl practically licking the srcreen.\n\n\tHe was a good boy.\n\n--------------------\n\n\t“What are you doing, Big brother?” The vole on the screen was absolutely not a teenager anymore. She ‘was’ cute. Feathery dark black hair and big brown eyes. Braces and a forced lisp. She did nothing to hide the tattoos, though. Markings showing up under thin leg fur really shattering the illusion of innocence.\n\n\tStill the smiling figure held up a pair of cotton granny-panties and waved them back and forth. The chipmunk had put on a pair of tight white boxers for this, and already he felt his shaft leaking into the material leaving a growing wet spot.\n\n\t“You were stealing my undies? Gosh, big brother! Why would you do that? They were dirty” She slowly and awkwardly held them up to the camera. Twisting the pair this way and that to show off every single scrap of spare fabric. \n\n\tHe’d seen this girls work before. Most of it was the same shtick. Some of that was her being far more submissive. This one Simon saved because she wasn’t.\n\n\t“Well I could tell Mom and Dad you know. You’d get in a lot of trouble” she cooed. Then leaned up to the camera and wrinkled her muzzle in a grin “But I’m kinda curious why you wanted them. So maybe if you show me, I won’t tell.”\n\n\tThe munk moaned softly and began to grip his bulge. He wasn’t going to be taking his cock out for this. No. Instead just grinding on his hand and sniffing at a pair of the panties he’d bought himself. Even without the smell, the feel of sucking air though the fabric was close enough to hit his brain like a drug.\n\n\t“Golly, big brother. That’s gross” The girl absolutely didn’t sell the words. Which was admittedly part of the charm of the whole thing. The whole thing sounded like some ancient cartoon from the 1920s, or 30s, or whenever sound started. And yet here it worked so very well.\n\n\tHis dick needed a brake to regain some sensitivity, and this girl was helping with that.\n\n\tHe was a good boy.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tFinding a shirt was the hard part. He didn’t want to fuck up a good one with sweat and sex stink. It was funny that Simon cared about something so trivial. It had been days now. More sick days used and the living room a sea of trash. Condom wrappers, fast food, pop cans and former milk jugs now used to hold water. Or some used for him to pee in.\n\n\tThat did spark an idea. But for later.\n\n\tNo, now he simply lurched over to the door with phone in hand and waited. He let the delivery guy get in all his knocking before slipping the chain up and pulling the door open.\n\n\t“8 Corner BBQ?” The delivery driver winced at the smell as the door opened fully. Maybe because he was a canine. Maybe because it really was that bad. Simon nodded and took it. For a 20% tip the guy shouldn’t complain too much. Granted the economy was shit and that didn’t go as far as it should either. But it wasn’t like he was trying to hit on him. The munk may consume bad porn, but he wasn’t that porn brained yet.\n\n\tThough god it’d be kind of hot if he was.\n\n\tThat was a thought for later Simon, though. For now he carried the pizza to the couch and flopped down, chugging room temp water out of his most recent jug and devouring a slice of the crusty crispy pizza in only a few heavy bites.\n\n\tHe was a hungry boy.\n\n\n--------------------\n\n\tGood old fashioned fapping. Sometimes that was all you needed. Simon leaned in over the flickering lights of his mechanical keyboard and let the dull glow of his LED monitor hammer him. He practically drooled over the comic before him. Guards in borderline military gear dragging a bunch of helpless boys along by chains attached to thick collars while more of them tied to knee and ankle cuffs kept them in line. It was showing the process of feminization. Watching as different boys from that initial lineup were shown at different ‘stages’. The fist one, a rather cute tabby boy, shoved into something the size of a school locker. Struggling and resisting and cursing his captors out as they shoved a gag with a thick tube in it into his muzzle. The ‘lead’ scientist woman cupping his cheeks and telling him how he’d be getting plenty of food, all laced with exactly the right blend of female hormones to help make him the ideal fuck-puppet for their customers.\n\n\tHe tried to imagine it. That feeling of having no choice. In the story these figures were all captured in one way or another. POWs, prisoners from different facilities, medical patients, prostitutes and even just random nobodies all nabbed up off of the street. Whoever this scientist lady decided was cute enough to play with.\n\n\tSimon was shifting in his seat now as he pumped his sadly average-sized cock in one hand. The order of the pages was fast and clearly designed around getting to the ‘action’. From the boys wrapped in rubber cocoons with only their cocks hanging out and VR headsets blasting degrading things into their ears, to a horrified looking mouse boy looking down at his new little breasts with abject horror. Simon wondered if he was even aware of the tattooed ‘permanent’ makeup, the piercing, or the emo girl pink haircut they’d given him.\n\n\tEvery page, every panel talked about how the trash should be beaten and abused. It showed her looking in on a cell where some poor lizard boy was getting railed by a big beefy pig girl and a wicked looking weasel girl. The fact that the two shoving their thick clittie into him had been cis men based on what the comic was saying only somehow made it hotter. So broken they’d turn on the new victims for relief.\n\n\tA before and after panel set showed a defiant bunny boy with four different guards restraining him. The ginger-furred firecracker screaming about his rights and how he’d fuck them all up. The after showed a boy whose muscles had all evaporated, who’s cock had diminished and chest had grown just enough to be properly called ‘tits’. He was drooling and begging for cock. Begging to be hit. Begging for any attention they would give him. Just so long as they’d please use him!\n\n\tThe scientist kept going on and on about how worthless the sluts were. Degrading them and talking about how they should be grateful she’s letting them suffer for their superiors. Bragging that the money this little paradise gave her allowed her to do whatever she wanted with any of them consequence free.\n\n\tBy the time the comic ended it was all Simon could do to keep from blowing his load all over the keyboard, the monitors and himself. The scientist announcing that she knew all along the ‘interviewer’ was actually there to shut her down on behalf of the government. She knew because making someone disappear doing this was the only way to shut up the few not in her pocket. That she’d hand picked the annoying shi-tzu herself. After all, the scientist had all the dicks she could ever abuse right at her fingertips. But she hadn’t had a cis girl around in a while. She wanted a ‘girlfriend’. The last panel showing the reporter woman tied up by her wrists and screaming into a gag while her new Mistress/girlfriend shoved a cattle prod up her cunt.\n\n\tIt was almost romantic in the most fucked up way one could imagine. It was certainly hot. The fact that Simon found it so hot probably said way more abut him than he cared to admit. Except he didn’t care. About anything. Not right now.\n\n\tHe was a lonely boy.\n\n---------------------\n\n\t“Suck for Daddy. Fuck for Daddy. Obey Daddy. Slave for Daddy.”\n\n\tOnce again a simple beat was put throbbing into Simons ears. Unlike last time he wasn’t comfortably in his chair. His tight virgin hole was filled with a vibe plug. His cock was ringed off and pushed into the tight confines of his automated onahole. The one he’d bought form the sex shop. The one he’d swapped out with the anal attachment. His biggest dragon dildo with a suction cup was stuck firmly to the coffee table about as far from the end that had the milker viced to it as he could get. All of this was arranged in a way that gave him clear view of the TV. Clear view of the music video pounding away at his ears with the song.\n\n\t“Rape me, beat me, hurt me more. Use me like your little whore. Turn me to a slutty boy. I am nothing but your toy!”\n\n\tAs before his body burned. Unlike before there really wasn’t much Simon could do beyond bob his head to the beat, in time with the song. Istening to the bossy girl singing in his ears.\n\n\tIf he was a braver boy he might have tried to cuff himself. Or maybe the rest of the setup was already too taxing on his wonderfully fuzzy brain. He moaned the words without even really thinking about it. Twisting and swirling his aching little tongue around the overly-large silicon rubber. Every knub and knot caressed and licked as if it were real. \n\n\tPart of him wanted to imagine some snotty bratty, sexy dragon lady there. The kind of thing impossible outside of drawings. Wriggling her hips and pushing his head own any time he pulled up too much. The fact that the song occasionally shifted that image in his mind, to something stronger, more masculine, just made him squirm a bit more before shoving it back out. Perhaps one of her pets ramming his cute little cock into Simon’s unexpecting ass, and another wriggling and clenching against his own shaft, denied the chance to feel anything but milked by the slutty creature.\n\n\tYet any time the images started to form they shattered. Replaced by the song and the vague phantasm of the singer. By images of that phantom ‘Daddy’ figure being the one to slowly push ‘his’ big thick dick into the poor rodent’s throat. Of the little icon popping up right before the chorus that was supposed to indicate he should take a hit of poppers, of which he was down to his last bottle. By the overwhelming pleasure that had consumed him for… well he didn’t know how long. It was only a ten minute song yet he’d set it on loop. Between that and the blackout curtains there was no way to tell how long it had been. \n\n\t“Lick your ass. Kiss your balls. Pin me up against the wall. You’re the only one I need. Hurry up give me your seed!”\n\n\tUntil today the now sweat-coated and disheveled rodent hadn’t even paid attention to the lyrics of the song. Not that hard anyways. He was ashamed enough that he wanted to stop. That only made it feel better as he kept going. \n\n\tSmall bursts of energy started to hit him again. He began to buck his aching hips into the toy. Trying to clumsily match its mechanically perfect pace. It only hurt more. That didn’t matter. He was a slutty toy. If there was any justice in this world he’d be strapped down to something designed to hold him there doing this and forced to listen and watch. He’d spend hours, maybe days, just feeling that need and at most only getting small spurts out as his whole lower body ached. The endless unchanging droning beat and Photoshop-throbbing clips from the video numbed him. They made him huff and puff and pant. They pushed him to put more of the fake cock down his throat. To do what someone should be doing to him. To fuck away his free will because nobody else wanted to.\n\n\tHe was so damn tired.\n\n--------------------\n\n\t“In and out. Nice, and deep, and relaxed.”\n\n\tThere was probably a difference between ‘being in a trance’ and ‘being asleep’.\n\n\tSimon wasn’t sure what that was.\n\n\tOnce again his cock ached. Once again he as tired and sore. An alarm had gone off to do his usual care for Artemis. At this point she was probably the only reason he stopped for anything. After that he grabbed the last slice of pizza out of the fridge and plopped down on the couch. He picked one of his play lists at random, resolved to just absorb it and lay on his side to watch the TV.\n\n\tThe fact that it was the audio Mistress Justine had made for him, well, he kind of deserved that bit of unpleasant suffering, didn’t he?\n\n\t“Good girl.” The synthesized video game character voice cooed in his ear. “Now I want you to watch. Watch and listen. Let everything I say sink deep down. Every word is the truth. Just as sure as gravity. It will all feel so good to admit, and think, and feel. Are you ready? Nod if you are”\n\n\tHe fond himself nodding, in spite of everything. Yawning while he laid there curled into a half-ball on the couch.\n\n\t“Jeanette is not a person. Jeanette is a slave. You are a slave.”\n\n\tSimon sleepily repeated it all back. His head in twilight. He was aware of what he was saying. It wasn’t like he was getting forcibly rewritten. It was just easier to go along right now. Easier than thinking.\n\n\t“Jeanette is shy and smart. She never swears. She’s always bashful and blushing. The right boy makes her heart thump.” \n\n\tBits and fragments danced in his head. Nothing concrete. He was too tired and worn down to even attempt to guide the thoughts. Most of it was likely just going to be based around the cartoon character anyways. He was just listening because he was lazy, and because he’d resolved to. In his mind, at that moment, neither fact was contradictory\n\n\tImages flashed on screen. Cute, chaste, nerdy girls. No sex to be seen. Some of it was cosplay, some drawing. The throbbing rolling sounds of a generic hypno track put under the flashing pictures helped keep his head feeling fuzzy. Or maybe that was the placebo effect too.\n\n\t“She’s a good little girl, saying ‘golly’ or ‘gosh’. Never swearing. Never mad. Never defiant. Always reluctant.”\n\n\tAs the voice continued the fact that it was text-to-speech became more clear. He still allowed it to flood him. If anything the artificial nature of it all was just more excitement. That imaginary platonic ideal drifted just out of reach within his own fuzzy brain. Even as the pictures started to get a bit more perverse. A few panties shots or other ‘shy’ displays of awkward and innocent sexuality. Erotic in their ineptitude and borderline sexlessness, which was probably the point.\n\n\tSimon’s shaft was probably twitching a but, but he didn’t notice that. The more he watched, the more he listened, the more aware he was of his bussy, his asshole, clenching and squeezing as if craving something to fill it. The more his toes twitched and his arms tensed to grab hold of the pillow propping up his head.\n\n\tThe voice continued on, though now there were other things under it. Along with it some o the pictures seemed to be more lewd. Girls both cis and trans, still nerdy and cute, tied up or slumped over after sex. Drawings of famous toon nerds in all kinds of increasingly severe bondage. He didn’t recognize most of them. Many even looked like they were from old 80s or 90s cartoons he only knew of though cultural osmosis. Yet he lay there enthralled and shivering. His whole body heaving with deep breaths.\n\n\t“He’s carrying your books, how cool”\n\n\tOne bit of something picked up amidst the small sea of voices. The fact that the main audio was already whispering into alternating ears didn’t help things. Eventually Simon found himself listening with the opposite ear any time the main voice spoke. It took considerable effort to do so and yet in his strange relaxed state the mere act actually felt rather good.\n\n\t“I’m the smart one”\n\n\t“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t talk back”\n\n\t“Why am I so wet down there?”\n\n\t“Golly, is that thingy really going to… wow!”\n\n\tThey were all breadcrumbs and fragments. Nothing that would paint a complete picture. In a more lucid state Simon may have been able to sus something out of it all. As he was now it was all just mnemonic shrapnel dancing in his brain while his blue-green eyes flickered over increasingly obscene displays.\n\n\tSome of the girls were goth now, or emo, or E-girls. Many were trans. More than a few showed bulges and flat chests that indicated a femboy. None of it matched the words very well beyond the escalating perversion. Talk of Jeanette being a little pervert. How it was ‘always the quiet ones’. How a slave obsesses over her owner because her owner is everything. Cooed words from a synthetic voice about how good it felt to not get a choice. To just surrender. Just give in.\n\n\tSimon stopped paying attention at that point. He kept listening, sure. But really all he did was curl more and hug his pillow. The thoughts and words and ideas all going into his head id feel good. Amazing even. In some perfect fantasy vacuum. In a word where that kind of surrender was possible. In a world where people were more like characters written to mesh and not the chaotic nightmare creatures that were, well, people.\n\n\tHe took a deep breath and tried to drift back off to sleep.\n\n\tHe was so fucking lonely.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tSimon Miller woke up with keyboard face. It was the first time sine high school. He could feel the stiff pushback of mechanical keys pushing though his plush cheek fur. His glasses were skewed and his back ached. His customary jug of water lay prone at his feet and his body screamed with the need to pee.\n\n\tNone of that was what woke him, though. No, it was the buzzing. The soft, infernal, nightmare buzzing that could only come from a vibrating phone on a hard surface. How something ‘silent’ could be so loud was beyond all comprehension. \n\n\tHe leaned back only to wince in pain at the plug still lodged up his rear. He hadn’t expected it. For a moment he shifted and struggled to stand as the fear of accidentally injuring himself swept into his mind. The first thing running counter to the days of nihilistic hedonism he’d just put his body through. He should probably be mad at himself for that. Though the real question was mad over the self abuse, or self concern.\n\n\tThe plug came out at one point and the fears of internal bleeding or damage were assuaged. Only then did the munk fumble for the phone. Blurry eyes unable to pick up on the screen. Not that it mattered. Probably someone from work again. He flicked the screen to answer the call and groaned out something that was probably a ‘hello’.\n\n\t“Hey, Dork!” A voice he did not expect. A shrill, nasal, aggressive auditory mallet which knocked away the days long sex haze and shoved him into instant sobriety.\n\n\t“Gretchen?” His voice cracked “W-what are you”\n\n\t“You remember we swapped numbers, right?”\n\n\tHe didn’t. Simon racked his brain trying to pick up on the event. There were too many interactions. Too much to process with his brain in the shape it was. Just too much of everything for him right now. “Ok even if we did, why? Your Master isn’t going to-”\n\n\t“Get yourself ready. I’m sending you an address” She snapped again “We’re getting ourselves some breakfast!”\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Leashed Chapter 15: Kill the Pain Away
By TerraMGP

\tSunday was hard. Simon didn’t remember most of it. Just a lot of tooth-brushing and a quick web MD check to make sure that losing so much raw stomach acid, or whatever it had been, wasn’t dangerous. He cried until he couldn’t anymore. He lay collapsed in bed. It took everything he had to make sure Artemis was fed.

\tIt was a lost day.

--------------------

\tSimon was nothing if not meticulous. He sent one message to his boss the night before saying he’d probably have to call in. Then another that day to confirm it. It felt disgusting being that rational. Planning things out the way he did. His life was crumbling and here he was sitting around lying to his boss to get a day off instead of just laying in bed and decomposing. It was one thing to do his routine with Artemis. She didn’t have any say in this. It wasn’t her fault. But he didn’t deserve to go on as if things were normal. He ‘shouldn’t’ be going on as if things were normal.

\tNothing was normal, and absolutely nothing was ok.

\tMaybe that was what propelled him. What pushed him out of bed when the suffering wasn’t enough. When he couldn’t take dwelling on it anymore. He didn’t shower. That’d be stupid. That would make him feel better and Simon absolutely had no intention of that. His gaming chair was home. More than anything the amalgam of pleather, plastic and metal felt right as he slipped in to it. Around him were a few statues of his favorite anime characters, the smaller toys he kept out for easy access and the latest, unopened, pack of poppers he’d snagged off of the internet. He’d been trying to lay off of them. Especially since he had a proper dominant to visit once a week. But now? Why the hell not?

\tHis computer hummed to life. Simon’s shaking naked form starting to relax and slump slowly back. His eyes fluttered. His chest heaved. He pulled a large bottle of water-based lube out from behind the monitor and popped the cap up.

\tTwo monitors came to life. Perverse pictures of girls and feminine boys in bondage filled his view. A girl in an arm binder standing on tiptoe over an electrified pipe, only a chain from her collar to the ceiling keeping her balance. A cute, chubby, femmy guy in knee socks bouncing on a dildo while sniffing a pair of panties. Link and Zelda worshiping Ganondorf’s cock in tandem, as they should. And a gothy goddess stepping down towards the camera in a pair of lacey socks and purple sneakers.

\tSimon dragged that last picture over until it was the one taking up the left side of his right monitor. It was a hot pic. Some gothy bunny girl who pulled off a borderline emo look well. Hoodie and eye patch. Even Invader Zim panties. It also hit all of the wrong buttons right now.

\tHe widened the picture to consume the whole screen, then set the image viewer to slideshow. Next he pulled the headphones from the back of his chair. It was hard finding a pair that worked for Chipmunks and those he had fond still felt a bit uncomfortable as they all but clipped around the ear like earbuds. No sounds started yet. He’d do that later. For now he was getting comfortable. He was removing any distractions. He was returning to ritual.

\tThe quivering pink flesh wasn’t as small as he’d like. Oh, it was hardly porn star sized. The way it twitched t life as the lube shifted the temp around it reminded him of how different it was from most of the femboys, sissies, and subbie trans girls already sprawling past him. Just far enough past the point of average to make him feel ‘inadequate’ in some small way. No real shrinking from a cage. No mild feminizing from hormones to make it cuter or perma-soft. It was just ‘normal’.

\tHe stepped himself from the line of thought that threatened to break though that. He didn’t need to think about Mistress and her preferences. This was about ignoring the emotional wound, not digging around in it.

\tSimon quickly pumped himself up. The familiar feeling of his breath getting shallow. His heart thudding and body squirming as dopamine began to flood him. A pair of twins worshiping either foot of the guy holding the camera. A bunny girl with nasty things written all over her doing the piece sign while a thick fox cock rested on her face, drooling its cum over her cheek and a smeared magic marker ‘pred bait’, A woman holding a blushing hedgehog boy up by his chin. The brown-quilled thing in white silky bridal stockings along with the femmy young stallion behind him. Railing into that cute little ass. Both having the delicious look of arousal and utter shame smeared over their faces.

\tMost of the time he might linger. Let his thoughts run wild about each picture. Try to imagine what he ‘hoped’ the people in it were thinking. But not now. For now it was simply about pleasure. These pictures made him feel good. They made him squirm. They made him feel like pumping. So he pumped. He pumped until he hit the familiar edge, and backed off. Never cumming. He was a submissive little slut. Cuming was too good for him. He deserved to suffer on that edge. To be made into a good little dolly.

\tThe slideshow continued. Thought and effort slowly faded from the process as he pumped his hips. Pre leaking on his hand, but nothing more.

\tHe was a good boy.

--------------------

\tRemixed electronica filled his ears. Simon’s awareness surfaced came into focus with the shameful and wonderful feel of a toy up his ass. A smaller one. His newest little ‘dragon’ friend. His hands were free for this video after all.

\tThe song was painfully simple. A mindless 4/4 beat with a breathy girl on a voice changer.

\t“One, two, three, four. Gonna be a little whore” Followed by an exaggerated, porny moan. Each time the voice did so Simon threw up peace signs and did his best ahegao face. Tongue out and eyes crossed. It was probably bad. That fact the thing sticking in his head as he bounced along to the beat. His poor pleasure button getting hammered only enough to make his shaft bounce.

\tHe could feel his legs burning. That tiny ass ached and his calves felt like they were ready to give out. It didn’t matter. The video told him he was a good slut. He was cute and made boys cum. Not that he actually did. But what domina worth her salt didn’t put a little ‘forced gay’ into the mix?

\tIt was easy to imagine any of these girls behind him, though. Well, any of them that didn’t’ show off their pussies. Thick warm cocks and heavy balls slapping against his own overfull package. Maybe something shoved into his cock-hole because only one of them was going to cum that day, and it wasn’t him. He wasn’t being kind with his own bouncing. The ‘fucking’ shouldn’t be about him after all.

\tThe figure he imagined behind him kept changing in his mind to match what was on the screen. A blonde mink in a fishnet top. A shortstack sugar glider with a big chest dressed in kawaii pastel pink. A lioness with her big poof-ball pigtails dyed cotton candy pink and blue with a split right up the middle. Men would yearn to fuck them. To ravage these princesses with their uncannily doll-like makeup and fur treatments. To hammer their cocks home and claim the sexy toys as their own. But Simon was a boy. He was a sissy. He was week. All he wanted was for them to breed him in time with the tune.

\tHis eyes slipped shut again and he resumed his bouncing. The lids opening to another sexy e-girl practically licking the srcreen.

\tHe was a good boy.

--------------------

\t“What are you doing, Big brother?” The vole on the screen was absolutely not a teenager anymore. She ‘was’ cute. Feathery dark black hair and big brown eyes. Braces and a forced lisp. She did nothing to hide the tattoos, though. Markings showing up under thin leg fur really shattering the illusion of innocence.

\tStill the smiling figure held up a pair of cotton granny-panties and waved them back and forth. The chipmunk had put on a pair of tight white boxers for this, and already he felt his shaft leaking into the material leaving a growing wet spot.

\t“You were stealing my undies? Gosh, big brother! Why would you do that? They were dirty” She slowly and awkwardly held them up to the camera. Twisting the pair this way and that to show off every single scrap of spare fabric.

\tHe’d seen this girls work before. Most of it was the same shtick. Some of that was her being far more submissive. This one Simon saved because she wasn’t.

\t“Well I could tell Mom and Dad you know. You’d get in a lot of trouble” she cooed. Then leaned up to the camera and wrinkled her muzzle in a grin “But I’m kinda curious why you wanted them. So maybe if you show me, I won’t tell.”

\tThe munk moaned softly and began to grip his bulge. He wasn’t going to be taking his cock out for this. No. Instead just grinding on his hand and sniffing at a pair of the panties he’d bought himself. Even without the smell, the feel of sucking air though the fabric was close enough to hit his brain like a drug.

\t“Golly, big brother. That’s gross” The girl absolutely didn’t sell the words. Which was admittedly part of the charm of the whole thing. The whole thing sounded like some ancient cartoon from the 1920s, or 30s, or whenever sound started. And yet here it worked so very well.

\tHis dick needed a brake to regain some sensitivity, and this girl was helping with that.

\tHe was a good boy.

--------------------

\tFinding a shirt was the hard part. He didn’t want to fuck up a good one with sweat and sex stink. It was funny that Simon cared about something so trivial. It had been days now. More sick days used and the living room a sea of trash. Condom wrappers, fast food, pop cans and former milk jugs now used to hold water. Or some used for him to pee in.

\tThat did spark an idea. But for later.

\tNo, now he simply lurched over to the door with phone in hand and waited. He let the delivery guy get in all his knocking before slipping the chain up and pulling the door open.

\t“8 Corner BBQ?” The delivery driver winced at the smell as the door opened fully. Maybe because he was a canine. Maybe because it really was that bad. Simon nodded and took it. For a 20% tip the guy shouldn’t complain too much. Granted the economy was shit and that didn’t go as far as it should either. But it wasn’t like he was trying to hit on him. The munk may consume bad porn, but he wasn’t that porn brained yet.

\tThough god it’d be kind of hot if he was.

\tThat was a thought for later Simon, though. For now he carried the pizza to the couch and flopped down, chugging room temp water out of his most recent jug and devouring a slice of the crusty crispy pizza in only a few heavy bites.

\tHe was a hungry boy.


--------------------

\tGood old fashioned fapping. Sometimes that was all you needed. Simon leaned in over the flickering lights of his mechanical keyboard and let the dull glow of his LED monitor hammer him. He practically drooled over the comic before him. Guards in borderline military gear dragging a bunch of helpless boys along by chains attached to thick collars while more of them tied to knee and ankle cuffs kept them in line. It was showing the process of feminization. Watching as different boys from that initial lineup were shown at different ‘stages’. The fist one, a rather cute tabby boy, shoved into something the size of a school locker. Struggling and resisting and cursing his captors out as they shoved a gag with a thick tube in it into his muzzle. The ‘lead’ scientist woman cupping his cheeks and telling him how he’d be getting plenty of food, all laced with exactly the right blend of female hormones to help make him the ideal fuck-puppet for their customers.

\tHe tried to imagine it. That feeling of having no choice. In the story these figures were all captured in one way or another. POWs, prisoners from different facilities, medical patients, prostitutes and even just random nobodies all nabbed up off of the street. Whoever this scientist lady decided was cute enough to play with.

\tSimon was shifting in his seat now as he pumped his sadly average-sized cock in one hand. The order of the pages was fast and clearly designed around getting to the ‘action’. From the boys wrapped in rubber cocoons with only their cocks hanging out and VR headsets blasting degrading things into their ears, to a horrified looking mouse boy looking down at his new little breasts with abject horror. Simon wondered if he was even aware of the tattooed ‘permanent’ makeup, the piercing, or the emo girl pink haircut they’d given him.

\tEvery page, every panel talked about how the trash should be beaten and abused. It showed her looking in on a cell where some poor lizard boy was getting railed by a big beefy pig girl and a wicked looking weasel girl. The fact that the two shoving their thick clittie into him had been cis men based on what the comic was saying only somehow made it hotter. So broken they’d turn on the new victims for relief.

\tA before and after panel set showed a defiant bunny boy with four different guards restraining him. The ginger-furred firecracker screaming about his rights and how he’d fuck them all up. The after showed a boy whose muscles had all evaporated, who’s cock had diminished and chest had grown just enough to be properly called ‘tits’. He was drooling and begging for cock. Begging to be hit. Begging for any attention they would give him. Just so long as they’d please use him!

\tThe scientist kept going on and on about how worthless the sluts were. Degrading them and talking about how they should be grateful she’s letting them suffer for their superiors. Bragging that the money this little paradise gave her allowed her to do whatever she wanted with any of them consequence free.

\tBy the time the comic ended it was all Simon could do to keep from blowing his load all over the keyboard, the monitors and himself. The scientist announcing that she knew all along the ‘interviewer’ was actually there to shut her down on behalf of the government. She knew because making someone disappear doing this was the only way to shut up the few not in her pocket. That she’d hand picked the annoying shi-tzu herself. After all, the scientist had all the dicks she could ever abuse right at her fingertips. But she hadn’t had a cis girl around in a while. She wanted a ‘girlfriend’. The last panel showing the reporter woman tied up by her wrists and screaming into a gag while her new Mistress/girlfriend shoved a cattle prod up her cunt.

\tIt was almost romantic in the most fucked up way one could imagine. It was certainly hot. The fact that Simon found it so hot probably said way more abut him than he cared to admit. Except he didn’t care. About anything. Not right now.

\tHe was a lonely boy.

---------------------

\t“Suck for Daddy. Fuck for Daddy. Obey Daddy. Slave for Daddy.”

\tOnce again a simple beat was put throbbing into Simons ears. Unlike last time he wasn’t comfortably in his chair. His tight virgin hole was filled with a vibe plug. His cock was ringed off and pushed into the tight confines of his automated onahole. The one he’d bought form the sex shop. The one he’d swapped out with the anal attachment. His biggest dragon dildo with a suction cup was stuck firmly to the coffee table about as far from the end that had the milker viced to it as he could get. All of this was arranged in a way that gave him clear view of the TV. Clear view of the music video pounding away at his ears with the song.

\t“Rape me, beat me, hurt me more. Use me like your little whore. Turn me to a slutty boy. I am nothing but your toy!”

\tAs before his body burned. Unlike before there really wasn’t much Simon could do beyond bob his head to the beat, in time with the song. Istening to the bossy girl singing in his ears.

\tIf he was a braver boy he might have tried to cuff himself. Or maybe the rest of the setup was already too taxing on his wonderfully fuzzy brain. He moaned the words without even really thinking about it. Twisting and swirling his aching little tongue around the overly-large silicon rubber. Every knub and knot  caressed and licked as if it were real.

\tPart of him wanted to imagine some snotty bratty, sexy dragon lady there. The kind of thing impossible outside of drawings. Wriggling her hips and pushing his head own any time he pulled up too much. The fact that the song occasionally shifted that image in his mind, to something stronger, more masculine, just made him squirm a bit more before shoving it back out.  Perhaps one of her pets ramming his cute little cock into Simon’s unexpecting ass, and another wriggling and clenching against his own shaft, denied the chance to feel anything but milked by the slutty creature.

\tYet any time the images started to form they shattered. Replaced by the song and the vague phantasm of the singer. By images of that phantom ‘Daddy’ figure being the one to slowly push ‘his’ big thick dick into the poor rodent’s throat. Of the little icon popping up right before the chorus that was supposed to indicate he should take a hit of poppers, of which he was down to his last bottle. By the overwhelming pleasure that had consumed him for… well he didn’t know how long. It was only a ten minute song yet he’d set it on loop. Between that and the blackout curtains there was no way to tell how long it had been.

\t“Lick your ass. Kiss your balls. Pin me up against the wall. You’re the only one I need. Hurry up give me your seed!”

\tUntil today the now sweat-coated and disheveled rodent hadn’t even paid attention to the lyrics of the song. Not that hard anyways. He was ashamed enough that he wanted to stop. That only made it feel better as he kept going.

\tSmall bursts of energy started to hit him again. He began to buck his aching hips into the toy. Trying to clumsily match its mechanically perfect pace. It only hurt more. That didn’t matter. He was a slutty toy. If there was any justice in this world he’d be strapped down to something designed to hold him there doing this and forced to listen and watch. He’d spend hours, maybe days, just feeling that need and at most only getting small spurts out as his whole lower body ached. The endless unchanging droning beat and Photoshop-throbbing clips from the video numbed him. They made him huff and puff and pant. They pushed him to put more of the fake cock down his throat. To do what someone should be doing to him. To fuck away his free will because nobody else wanted to.

\tHe was so damn tired.

--------------------

\t“In and out. Nice, and deep, and relaxed.”

\tThere was probably a difference between ‘being in a trance’ and ‘being asleep’.

\tSimon wasn’t sure what that was.

\tOnce again his cock ached. Once again he as tired and sore. An alarm had gone off to do his usual care for Artemis. At this point she was probably the only reason he stopped for anything. After that he grabbed the last slice of pizza out of the fridge and plopped down on the couch. He picked one of his play lists at random, resolved to just absorb it and lay on his side to watch the TV.

\tThe fact that it was the audio Mistress Justine had made for him, well, he kind of deserved that bit of unpleasant suffering, didn’t he?

\t“Good girl.” The synthesized video game character voice cooed in his ear. “Now I want you to watch. Watch and listen. Let everything I say sink deep down. Every word is the truth. Just as sure as gravity. It will all feel so good to admit, and think, and feel. Are you ready? Nod if you are”

\tHe fond himself nodding, in spite of everything. Yawning while he laid there curled into a half-ball on the couch.

\t“Jeanette is not a person. Jeanette is a slave. You are a slave.”

\tSimon sleepily repeated it all back. His head in twilight. He was aware of what he was saying. It wasn’t like he was getting forcibly rewritten. It was just easier to go along right now. Easier than thinking.

\t“Jeanette is shy and smart. She never swears. She’s always bashful and blushing. The right boy makes her heart thump.”

\tBits and fragments danced in his head. Nothing concrete. He was too tired and worn down to even attempt to guide the thoughts. Most of it was likely just going to be based around the cartoon character anyways. He was just listening because he was lazy, and because he’d resolved to. In his mind, at that moment, neither fact was contradictory

\tImages flashed on screen. Cute, chaste, nerdy girls. No sex to be seen. Some of it was cosplay, some drawing. The throbbing rolling sounds of a generic hypno track put under the flashing pictures helped keep his head feeling fuzzy. Or maybe that was the placebo effect too.

\t“She’s a good little girl, saying ‘golly’ or ‘gosh’. Never swearing. Never mad. Never defiant. Always reluctant.”

\tAs the voice continued the fact that it was text-to-speech became more clear. He still allowed it to flood him. If anything the artificial nature of it all was just more excitement. That imaginary platonic ideal drifted just out of reach within his own fuzzy brain. Even as the pictures started to get a bit more perverse. A few panties shots or other ‘shy’ displays of awkward and innocent sexuality. Erotic in their ineptitude and borderline sexlessness, which was probably the point.

\tSimon’s shaft was probably twitching a but, but he didn’t notice that. The more he watched, the more he listened, the more aware he was of his bussy, his asshole, clenching and squeezing as if craving something to fill it. The more his toes twitched and his arms tensed to grab hold of the pillow propping up his head.

\tThe voice continued on, though now there were other things under it. Along with it some o the pictures seemed to be more lewd. Girls both cis and trans, still nerdy and cute, tied up or slumped over after sex. Drawings of famous toon nerds in all kinds of increasingly severe bondage. He didn’t recognize most of them. Many even looked like they were from old 80s or 90s cartoons he only knew of though cultural osmosis. Yet he lay there enthralled and shivering. His whole body heaving with deep breaths.

\t“He’s carrying your books, how cool”

\tOne bit of something picked up amidst the small sea of voices. The fact that the main audio was already whispering into alternating ears didn’t help things. Eventually Simon found himself listening with the opposite ear any time the main voice spoke. It took considerable effort to do so and yet in his strange relaxed state the mere act actually felt rather good.

\t“I’m the smart one”

\t“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t talk back”

\t“Why am I so wet down there?”

\t“Golly, is that thingy really going to… wow!”

\tThey were all breadcrumbs and fragments. Nothing that would paint a complete picture. In a more lucid state Simon may have been able to sus something out of it all. As he was now it was all just mnemonic shrapnel dancing in his brain while his blue-green eyes flickered over increasingly obscene displays.

\tSome of the girls were goth now, or emo, or E-girls. Many were trans. More than a few showed bulges and flat chests that indicated a femboy. None of it matched the words very well beyond the escalating perversion. Talk of Jeanette being a little pervert. How it was ‘always the quiet ones’. How a slave obsesses over her owner because her owner is everything. Cooed words from a synthetic voice about how good it felt to not get a choice. To just surrender. Just give in.

\tSimon stopped paying attention at that point. He kept listening, sure. But really all he did was curl more and hug his pillow. The thoughts and words and ideas all going into his head id feel good. Amazing even. In some perfect fantasy vacuum. In a word where that kind of surrender was possible. In a world where people were more like characters written to mesh and not the chaotic nightmare creatures that were, well, people.

\tHe took a deep breath and tried to drift back off to sleep.

\tHe was so fucking lonely.

--------------------

\tSimon Miller woke up with keyboard face. It was the first time sine high school. He could feel the stiff pushback of mechanical keys pushing though his plush cheek fur. His glasses were skewed and his back ached. His customary jug of water lay prone at his feet and his body screamed with the need to pee.

\tNone of that was what woke him, though. No, it was the buzzing. The soft, infernal, nightmare buzzing that could only come from a vibrating phone on a hard surface. How something ‘silent’ could be so loud was beyond all comprehension.

\tHe leaned back only to wince in pain at the plug still lodged up his rear. He hadn’t expected it. For a moment he shifted and struggled to stand as the fear of accidentally injuring himself swept into his mind. The first thing running counter to the days of nihilistic hedonism he’d just put his body through. He should probably be mad at himself for that. Though the real question was mad over the self abuse, or self concern.

\tThe plug came out at one point and the fears of internal bleeding or damage were assuaged. Only then did the munk fumble for the phone. Blurry eyes unable to pick up on the screen. Not that it mattered. Probably someone from work again. He flicked the screen to answer the call and groaned out something that was probably a ‘hello’.

\t“Hey, Dork!” A voice he did not expect. A shrill, nasal, aggressive auditory mallet which knocked away the days long sex haze and shoved him into instant sobriety.

\t“Gretchen?” His voice cracked “W-what are you”

\t“You remember we swapped numbers, right?”

\tHe didn’t. Simon racked his brain trying to pick up on the event. There were too many interactions. Too much to process with his brain in the shape it was. Just too much of everything for him right now. “Ok even if we did, why? Your Master isn’t going to-”

\t“Get yourself ready. I’m sending you an address” She snapped again “We’re getting ourselves some breakfast!”
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