Today is the last day to join, so if you want in on it, be sure to read over the rules and PM Shakespearicles!Beastmode (NSFW? Maybe? Mostly risque talk...) · 5:47am Jun 12th, 2016
I killed the day. I may as well have cut off its head and mounted it on my wall. Let it be known that Saturday, June 11th, 2016 was struck dead between the eyes by NineCaliber.
I cleaned my house. Top to bottom. Both bathrooms, kitchen, dining room, living room, and master bedroom. Vacuumed, swept, and mopped this house till it was begging for mercy. Did the laundry. Laid fresh sheets down. Dusted. Disinfected. Dominated.
I wish you guys could have come over. This house would have felt like heaven to you.
Air was fresh and lightly fragrant. You could walk around barefoot and not feel the need to brush off sand or dust. Carpets looked nicer than ever. Fuck, I even vacuumed and washed the couches.
I did it, mostly because I haven't done that kind of heavy-duty spring cleaning in months. I also did it because of my impending family visit. Not FOR them. My sister-in-law and niece wouldn't appreciate the detail of cleanliness I put in. (I fucking dusted nooks and crannies no one even looks at, guys. Thoroughness. I made it my bitch.) I really did it because this level of cleaning would have been far more awkward to do with two more people in the house... AAAaand, okay, it was also an excuse to not go out with my mother on errands today. After last weekend's clash, I just didn't think it was a good idea to be stuck in a car with her and my fidgety son for 2-3 hours (noooo thank you.)
I cleaned so much i worked up a sweat. Took me 4 hours of solid work. My hips and back hurt. Once my mother returned, I excused myself to bed and played Valkyria Chronicles until the painkillers set in.
And then I wrote.
I wrote like a woman possessed.
I willfully blocked out my son's natural kid volume (which is always set to high) and my mother's high-strung responses (which seems to like to match his volume for some reason) and just went BEASTMODE into writing. The result?
A rough draft completed for Her Collar, Her Love's chapter 6.
Yes... I know. Nothing for What They Expect to Give (to you people who care.) It's almost done! I swear. But I really only had time and energy to do one thing today, and my brain said Flarity was it.
A little before that, I finally got a full understanding of what vore was. I knew it had to do with eating people and/or being eaten, but... Now that I've looked at it more closely, I find myself equal parts intrigued and horrified. It's kind of like watching a train wreck and being unable to look away, y'know? In other fetishy news: I MIGHT be developing a taste for macro. I never would have thought it, but after reading Megapone and Troublesome Beast's stuff, plus various arty things, I have to wonder... DO I like it? How do you get into this stuff anyway? Gradually warming? Or do you just dive in? I feel like I just kind of dove into pet play. But I guess certain things just have to be an acquired taste, right? Emphasis on 'acquired'?
...My posts lately have been exceedingly rambly and bloggy, haven't they? For a while I was putting in more solid effort to produce more thought-provoking stuff. Buuut, I've just managed to put my son to sleep, and I'm all goofy from a tall glass of Ojsvedka (and contemplating another in anticipation of relatives coming at 11-ish...?) so... yes. I'm being a little crude heathen right now. Please... suck my left one.
N-no. Really.
(I'm a flirt when I'm drunk, just fyi)
If that were me, this would be playing:
I was always a chatty, slightly amorous drunk.
Why is it the left one anyway? Shouldn't both sides get attention I don't understand plz advise
YAY HER COLLAR SOON
Vore scares the hell out of me. I've had nightmares about being eaten alive since I was a child.
4017135
I have two settings when drunk: happy flirt, and horny mope.
Why the left one? Well, since since you asked...
It's true! Both sides deserve attention. However, when suckling the left one, this makes it easier for me to use the right hand to caress and encourage my lover... Or to smack him if he has the gall to end his niplove prematurely.
4019646 I am delighted that I jokingly asked because that is a fantastic answer and I agree that this is most excellent.
I have this image in my head now that I want to write, Rarity with a empty wine glass, red faced, draped over the side of her plush couch with one hoof lazily pendulum-ing. "Everything is terrrrible darrrling. We are all slaves to entropy."
Aplejack: Uh... pardon?
Rarity: nevermind that, you're not nearly refined enough for ennui. Take me, you rough beast!
4019884
AJ: Broken heart? Ah can fix that! *gears up*
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Rarity: MUST you insist on doing that every time? You could have ravaged me three times over already!