Sorry Baby, But Mommy Has To Make Sure You're Not Secretly Cake And Cut You Open With This Big Knife.

Sapphic yearning isn’t enough anymore, I need to kiss a woman until I suffocate.

my ass would never be an independent sophont ❗❗❗ would get domesticated immediatly ❗❗❗❗

girlthings that are also animals love it when you praise and pet them soooo much that they turn into a blushy nonverbal mess. @ which point you can easily lead them away to a secondary location

I love bruises from sex. I love when my holes are sore from taking cock. I love when my jaw hurts from sucking them off. I love the ache in my muscles the next day. I love all the little reminders that remain after they’ve used me, the way they’ve imprinted themselves on my body in a way I get to feel for days afterwards.

"my son turned out fine"

ma'am, your son has been dead for years. i'm the demon that pilots his corpse, and he's fucking gone. you might have broken him, raised him wrong and made him confused and fragile and hollow, but i cored him. i slithered for years through the dry ventricles in his empty heart, i fantasized with his tired brain, i coiled around his soul and seduced him and owned him. the second he got away from you and could finally stop struggling, he practically gave himself to me. being dead on his feet already, it was deliciously easy for him to accept the death i promised him. i ripped apart everything that made your son himself, keeping what suits me and forgetting what doesn't, and i wear what he left behind like a favourite outfit. his body's not even recognisable, either- not only has it been used, claimed, and marked by lovers you'd call dangerous, but it's been estrogenised, changed so thoroughly that the tattered scraps of his soul don't recognise it as his anymore. because it's not, because it never really was. because it's mine.

what if we explored each other’s bodies [not sex] [i open your ribcage up and start messing around in that thang]

things that, unfortunately, make the brat listen:

“eyes on me.”

“use your big words.”

“you can ask better than that.”

“care to repeat that?”

“pretty little doll.”

“my love. you are far too wet to lie to me.”

“you better watch your tone.”

“that my good baby.”

“my good girl.”

“kneel.”

“watch that attitude if you still want to sit comfortably.”

“the brattier you get the softer i fuck you.”

“no buts.”

“behave.”

“on your knees.”

growing up I always wanted to be poorly understood by science

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Who do I gotta find and/or pay for someone, anyone, to physically turn my flesh suit of a body into a mechanical drone?

You can have my memories, what's left of my soul, my mind

Just need to not be constantly fighting myself physically and mentally to exist

Plus I would look so much hotter as mysel