yes of course!!! i’d be down!!!
do you have any ideas on what to write tho? im bad at keeping things going when there’s no plot :c
also i gotta go sleep in around five minutes just so u know
yes of course!!! i’d be down!!!
do you have any ideas on what to write tho? im bad at keeping things going when there’s no plot :c
also i gotta go sleep in around five minutes just so u know
/ anything in specific u wanna do?
/ hewwo
/ if host is king, he isn’t one to really be a mean asshole though
/ he’s very very kind and nice
Markus winced when the alpha pulled on his collar. He was quivering in fear, being blind not making anything easier. The only good thing was, that he wasn’t very fertile. He was very unlikely to get pups, even during heats.
He whined, trying to beg without words not to be used by someone else and be watched. He would do anything for that not to happen.
Markus whimpered, nodding. He didn’t want to be shared! He tried his best to obey whatever his alpha told him to do, but it was hard, he was scared of the alpha. He tried to please them as best as he could..
Send “Scars tell Stories” and My Muse will explain the story of how they got a scar on their body.
Host traced his fingers along thick scars on the sides of his arms, two lashes against his outer arms, both of them.
“The Author had been foolish. His character had a knife, and was very intend on trying to kill the writer. He had to raise his arms and cross them to not be hit more painfully or threateningly. Scars are all that is left of that story.”.
Host looked scared as he was pushed along with the other pups. He was still young, and he didn’t really understand what was happening, nor what made him and the rest different from the woman. Sure he might have different ears than her, standing atop his head, and he had a tail where she didn’t seem to, but he still couldn’t understand.
He wasn’t too good with speaking either though.
Host nodded lightly. He didn’t really know how it worked like, since he was an omega. Omegas were kept dumb, so to say. Not allowed to know anything about politics, not allowed to do most any jobs, and many other things as well. He just agreed, because he was trained to agree.
Author leaned back lazily in his seat. He had written a pretty sadistic piece of erotica for one of his characters, and alone imagining them screaming in pain, begging for it to stop, to stop hurting them, and gotten him hard.
So he had a hand wrapped around himself, stroking slow and teasingly, rubbing over the tip with his fingers. He knew exactly what felt best, light squeezes at the base, twisting his hand beneath the head, pressing against the tip, pulling his dick lightly.
He groaned softly when he came, coming into his hand. He kept sitting there for another minute or so, before cleaning up and continuing to write.