early lessons

As long as anyone could remember, Yoda had spent most of his time in the Jedi Temple with the very young. Playing with them at ages two and three—hide-and-seek, dodge-bolt, Force tag. The early rambling lessons in the garden where he taught them the secret lives of vegetables, the irresistible burst of shoots, and flowers playing dress-up; clustering them around to watch an orb-spider weave its web, or a bee bumble its way into a mass of blossoms.

When the first combat training started, with falls and rolls and footwork games, Yoda led them. For one thing, he was just their size. 

-Dark Rendezvous

Tater headcanon/ficlet

Tater’s parents divorced when he was very young, he doesn’t even remember a time they were together (although they had an amicable relationship post-divorce). His father was a hockey player, his mother was a figure skating champion.

He grew up in Russia with his father, but would spend a couple months every year visiting his mother in the USA. She retired from competition, but continued on to be a formidable youth figure skating coach. Her students were always successful.

When Tater visits his mom, he usually tags along to her early morning practices. Truthfully, he catches a bit more sleep in the stands most days, but he does really enjoy watching the progress her students have made on days mornings when he’s well-rested.

When he’s 11 or so, his mom takes on a tiny blond boy as her newest student, and Tater absolutely LOVES watching him practice. The kid is fast learner, and young Tater has been around the best and brightest of figure skating enough to know that this boy is going to be great.

Even when Tater returns home to Russia after his visit, he still asks his mom about how the little blond boy is doing with his lessons. The next time he visits, the improvement is already staggering. Now he eagerly attend his mom’s early morning lessons to see what this talented tiny boy can do.

Tater meets him once, but the funny little American boy talks very fast and Tater has no idea what he’s saying. He manages to say “Hi” and “good skate” and then stares, completely overwhelmed by this ball of blond energy shaking his hand and talking a mile a minute. Tater knows he’s saying something nice about his mom, because the boy is smiling a lot and looks over at her a couple times, but he knows very little English, so it mostly goes over his head. Still, it makes him smile, and he’s happy his mom has found such an enthusiastic student.

The years go by, and although Tater is sad to hear that his mom’s star pupil no longer figure skates, he gets busy with his hockey career. His mother has other talented students now, and she’s back in Russia. Life goes on. It’s been years since he’s thought of the tiny blond boy…

But one day, his teammate Jack starts (does he ever stop?) bragging about how wonderful his boyfriend is, and brings him along for a fun shinny game with the Falcs to show off Bitty’s skills and speed.

“Remember last time we did this, Bits?” Jack teases his boyfriend while the other guys set up the nets.

“The boys made me do a jump in my hockey skates for the school paper,” Bitty replies with a laugh.

Tater insists on seeing Jack’s little blond boyfriend do a jump, because he does miss watching figure skating like in his childhood. Bitty obliges, and the moment he lifts off the ice, Tater is filled with nostalgia. He knew something was familiar about this energetic young man.

“Hey, little B!” Tater skates over to Bitty immediately. “You’re so good. Always jumping so high, even in hockey skates.”

“Well, it would be better if I were in figure skates, and had a bit more practice…”

“Is okay. Long time since you started hockey, yes? When you were 15?”

Bitty doesn’t think too much of it, aside from being a bit of embarrassment that Jack has told his friends THAT much about him. “Yeah, I figure skated for years before that.”

“So many championships. Good skate.”

Bitty chuckles, remembering the time he met Katya’s quiet son who didn’t speak much English. That poor shy boy had only managed to tell him “good skate” too. He was hit with a wave of déja vu. This giant of a man was about 10,000 times more talkative than that boy, but now that Bitty thought about it, he did look a little familiar. “Um… Tater? This may sound strange, but…”

“So B, you know my mom Katya, yes?”

“OH. MY. GOD.”

“We should send her selfie now.”

AZRIEL TO THE RESCUE “I need to start our lesson early.”

IN OTHER WORDS: “I understand why Rhys sent me here to get you, Feyre. Now let’s haul ass outta here before Nessian implodes.”

Originally posted by ihiphop

1-A Dorm Headcanons
  • Midoriya has an All Might alarm clock that says something along the lines of “Wake up! Why…because I am here!” and he accidentally set it really loud so it wakes everyone up on the first morning.
  • The next day they have a special early hero lesson and of course All Might bursts in with the same line only to be met with everyone yelling at Midoriya and going back to sleep.
  • Shouji cooking massive breakfasts every weekend in about 15 minutes because he can do 8 different things at once
  • “Yaoyorozu I forgot to pack this can you make one?”
  • There are not enough plug sockets in the lounge area so Kaminari gets plugged in and has to sit in the middle with chargers in his mouth.
  • Sometimes people shove extra chargers and wires in his mouth just to shut him up.
  • Tokoyami and Jirou blasting screamo/heavy metal at 3am
  • At least one or two people fall asleep on the sofas everyday and it’s an unwritten rule that you tuck them in and don’t disturb them.
  • One morning everyone finds Kirishima and Bakugou snuggled up together, fast asleep and everyone takes pictures. The dorm nearly gets destroyed after Kaminari’s snickering wakes Bakugou up.
  • Hagakure gets dared to hide in the suit of armour in Aoyama’s room and move around a lot.
  • Items get stolen from everyone’s rooms and hidden in Bakugou’s although nobody tells him. Take them back if you dare.
  • Todoroki falls asleep literally everywhere but still gets blankets and cushions thrown over him even if he’s somehow standing up
  • They take lots of cute candid photos and hang them on the walls and put them on their individual fridges. However this also results in a lot of terrible photos
  • This turns into a game where pictures of Kaminari’s ‘stupid face’ are hidden in random places all over the school.
  • Compulsory friday night get together and sleepover in the living room and I mean compulsory. But everyone loves it even Bakugou…secretly though of course.
Getting the message across

This is an old tale from my early years as a Veterinarian. I was in my first job, and the senior vet who mentored me was not a patient woman. She was a good vet, compassionate, clever and understanding, but she would always call a spade a spade, and if something was shit she wouldn’t call it fertilizer.

We had a patient in hospital that had a number of medical issues. To summarize, this middle aged dog:

  • Had been clipped 3 years ago and the fur never grew back
  • Was owned by a human physician and nurse who honestly believed dog fur didn’t grow back after it was cut in their special breed
  • Was subsequently diagnosed with hypothyroidism
  • Was obese, and getting lots of human food and ‘home remedies’
  • Had stopped eating, then defecating, three days ago.

When he came to us he was quickly diagnosed with a severe case of pancreatitis, which for those readers who don’t know is potentially life threatening and is often triggered by fatty food in dogs. The senior vet had been trying to explain this to his owners, medical people themselves who should have a basic level of understanding, and I saw her storming out of the consult room they were visiting their dog in. She was shaking her head and looked about ready to scream.

“They just don’t get it. They just don’t. The silly woman just thinks he’s constipated and wants to take him home. She’s been force feeding him olive oil for the last three days! They don’t understand that he could die. I can’t deal with them anymore,” she said.

“That’s ok,” I replied, “Give me his blood results and I’ll give it a go.”

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Rooftops : Jughead Jones Pt. 1

Part Two

request: a jughead x reader lil thang where maybe the reader broke up with archie? or one of the football players. and they used to always chill on the readers roof (a cute childhoodism) and he maybe finds them up there and comforts them (possibly romantic?) 

 requested by: anonymous

A/N: I DID NOT MEAN TO VILLIANIZE ARCHIE, but I did. I am so sorry about that. Whoops. Overall, though, I am in love with this. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it. I would love if you guys would give me some feedback on this. Potential fic???? Let me know, darlings. xx aubree

warnings: cheating. 

word count: 993

(gif not mine)


Originally posted by screamkin

On the weekend of July 4th, Archie Andrews, Jughead Jones, and Y/N Y/L/N were planning on taking a road trip. Archie had bailed on both his best friend and his girlfriend, earning the wrath of both. Archie and Jughead hadn’t spoken since, until Betty brought them together. Archie and Y/N had been having relationship problems ever since.

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Please don’t diminish your accomplishments!

I see so many posts that start off with “It may not seem like much to you” or “I know this isn’t impressive but…”

The only person you are competing with is you. 

If this is your first time lifting and you lifted 10 lbs, then celebrate! You just set a record! If this is your first time walking and you walked a mile - that is freaking amazing!!! 

Learning this lesson early will make your journey more enjoyable and more successful. 

I look forward to cheering you along the way!

Stormpilot: Gay Cowboy Style

Poe Dameron.

Most notorious outlaw West of the Mississippi. Maybe East of it as well. He wouldn’t know. Never had much cause to go back that way.

It was unsurprising, given his parentage. Ma’s brains and pa’s shooting were the two gifts they’d left him before they passed, and they’d served him well all his life.

He’d been more or less on his own ever since. He partnered up when it suited him, but extending trust too far had taught him lessons early on he wasn’t likely to forget, and once he cleared adolescence he made it policy never to let anyone get too close.

He was a rogue of the West, and spent his days creating headaches and causing trouble for the men he deemed unfit to lead, relieving them of goods and wealth he didn’t think they deserved. He spent his days helping folk who needed it- and helping himself when he needed it- and always staying one step ahead of the law.

He never expected one day he’d be in desperate need of help from someone else.

And he most definitely never expected that help to come from a deputy of the most corrupt sheriff the West had ever seen.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Sure enough, he’d only just finished his first whiskey and started scoping about for the right kind of gamblers to swindle out of their gold (trying to be too intrigued by that guy in the corner by himself, drinking quietly with his head down and what look’s like the weight of the world on his shoulders), when the cavalry arrived, a veritable storm of bounty hunters, deputies and average folk wanting a piece of the prize. They clutched wanted posters and pistols in their fists and had dollar signs in their eyes.


He gave them a run for their money. At least he liked to tell himself as much when he thought back on it years later, but the men he’d rode into town with proved yellow as soon as the first wave of hunters came into the saloon. Turned tail faster than a beat dog.

Not surprising.

Poe had a knack for getting himself out of dicey situations, usually through the use of his considerable wit, charm and his blessedly dashing looks. Sadly, it seemed talking his way out of this one wasn’t going to work for once. Sheriff Ren had lost a whole lot of good money on account of Poe, and he was not the forgiving type.

Poe’s luck, it seemed, had finally caught up with him.


He was set to be hanged at high noon, but the noose never touched his neck.

Not, sadly, due to any ingenious plan of his own, but by the mercy of a complete stranger.

The most courageous and hopelessly naive man he’d ever come across in his life or probably ever would again.

His goddamn hero.


They escaped by the skin of their teeth and headed into the wilds. Poe was pretty banged up, courtesy of Sheriff Kylo Ren and his lackeys, but there was air in his lungs and blood still pumped in his veins, and for that he was infinitely grateful. He also had a certain amount of gratitude for the gentleness of the courageous stranger’s hands, and the way he doctored Poe’s wounds with such patience and care, never once commenting if Poe winced or cried out in pain.

He tried not to dwell on that bit, and managed for the most part.

The Sheriff, it seemed, was not a man to be trifled with. For Poe to have crossed him not once but twice and still be breathing was already more than he could handle. That he’d managed to escape through betrayal by one of his own deputies was more than he could bear.

He pursued them relentlessly.

With such enormous targets on their backs, it only made sense to stick together, to watch one another’s until the danger passed.

Just for a while, Poe told himself.

‘Til they got far enough away Ren would give up, if that ever happened.

In the mean time, Finn was doing this really unsettling thing where he was acting like a good man and it was doing a number on Poe’s carefully constructed walls. He had determined long before meeting Finn that that such men didn’t exist, or were few and far between. He tried not to like him overmuch, but you can’t be around that kind of relentless earnestness and not be affected by it.

In a thousand little ways, without even knowing it Finn seemed dead set on shaking him up and proving his closely held beliefs wrong.

He did it again and again, and Poe was powerless to stop it. He did it with his easy laugh, or the way it just seemed so easy for him to dole out kindness. In the way he tended to horses, always chattering away to them as he did, calling them pretty when they were good and chastising them when they weren’t. In the way he always offered up peppermint or licorice when he got a stash in town, or the way his eyes sparkled with enjoyment when he and Poe argued about the merits (or lack thereof) of licorice, or whatever silly thing they picked to fill up the quiet.

He didn’t even make it a week before he started thinking of Finn as the best damn friend he’d ever had.


It had been over a year since Finn cut him down from the gallows and out of the jaws of death.

Ren stopped chasing them, or at least lost their trail, but they never did manage to part ways. At this point, Poe was certain the only way Finn would ever get rid of him would be if he decided to pump him full of bullets and leave him for dead.

Dammit, even if he did that (not that Poe could even imagine it), Poe was sure he’d crawl across the entire fucking desert just to look him in the eyes and ask him why.

Finn wasn’t just his friend any more.

He wanted him to be, desperately but more than half a year ago, things had started to get twisted up in Poe’s head and he couldn’t untangle them. Maybe longer ago than that.

He tried not to think about it, and by day they were usually too busy outrunning and outgunning trouble for him to fret about it. But by night, the yearning had started to creep in, and it was all Finn’s goddamn fault.

Finn was too goddamn soft.

It was impossible not to think about him in the kinda way a man shouldn’t think about another. His eyes were kind and his laugh was easy, and Poe spent so much time just trying to avert his gaze, to push down the longing so he wouldn’t act like a damn fool and scare off the best thing that ever happened to him. Because that’s what Finn was.

The kind of man who’d take a bullet for you without a second thought. The kind of man you could tell things to, things Poe never thought he’d say out loud to anyone. Things about his parents, or the things Poe did to survive in the first few years after their passing. Things he never wanted to say, things he never thought he could, seemed to just come out of him when he looked at chocolate colored eyes gleaming in the firelight, sensitive and patient.

Stopping the thing inside him is impossible, Poe knew that. Poe didn’t think anyone who lived a life in such shadow could come into contact with the light that was Finn and not come ti love him with every last bit of themselves.

Stopping such feelings was more than impossible, but controlling them wasn’t. At nights, he laid awake and thought about what Finn’s strong arms would feel like around him, what those beautiful hands would feel like on his body, but by days he smiled at him but never for too long.

And then one night at their campfire, when the ache had gotten so bad that Poe thought he might just get on his horse and ride away and never look back, Finn simply leaned over and pressed his lips against Poe’s. It was gentle and his lips were soft, and it lasted only seconds before he pulled back and fixed Poe with a stare that was equal parts heated and terrified.

Poe’s heart nearly stopped and his brain worked overtime trying to catch up on what had just happened, that brief, beautiful and entirely unexpected thing.

They’d run outta whiskey two nights before, so there was no way he could blame it on…

So that meant…did Finn want…?

“If I crossed a line, and you wanna take a swing at me, I understand,” Finn said, eyes downcast but still reflecting firelight. “Though I’d take it as kindness if you didn’t,” he mumbled, and something inside Poe exploded, because how could Finn not know, how could he not know that he was everything? From the minute he cut him down from the gallows, and every minute after.

Then show him, growled an impatient voice in his head, and he finally had the sense to take Finn by the jaw and return his kiss hard enough to hurt.

And that was it.

The end of the longing, the beginning of a life he never knew he wanted.

They got by on skirting the law for another couple of years. Finn, in spite of his charming naivety, proved useful in a fight and could usually be trusted to help carry out a scheme of Poe’s without difficulty.

They kept it up, toeing the lines of right and wrong to get by, but once they realized the extent of the thing between them, they knew it was time to stop running and start living.

So that’s what they do.

They find themselves a nice-sized plot with the money they’ve taken from them who never deserved it, in a place where no one they’ve crossed will be likely to find them.

It’s not much, really, the life they have. No one else would ever find it particularly grand or exciting. The men he’d known in his glory days, the men he’d fought with, killed with…they’d laugh in his face to see him now. And maybe try to stick a knife in him for being so wrong.

Poe doesn’t care. He has Finn now, Finn who is the best man he’s ever known, maybe the best man who ever lived. He has Finn however he wants, whenever he wants and Finn has him back.

In the bed they share, on the rug in front of the wood stove. In the grassy field under the summer sun, or when they crawl out of the creek after a swim, shivering and nude and in need of the best kind of warmth. After they bicker over whether or not raising chickens is worth the effort, after Finn shows him how to make a cobbler.

No matter where it is, no matter what leads to it, from the first time as young, men embarking on something alien and terrifying, to the very last, when they’re both gray and more than a little achey, every single time, it’s home.

ETA: Didn’t realize you could post graphics on AO3. Now there’s a version of it on there too. 

honestly like. “did i mention I was a black belt” “did i mention i was a luthor” if lillian had been teaching lex and lena chess for years–which she probably likened to a mental battle–then lillian probably also enrolled the both of them in self defense lessons early. it’s one of the few things lionel and lillian agree on–they’re luthors. they have a lot of enemies (do you wonder if lena was ever kidnapped as a child? There were most likely at least attempts–their family has billions of dollars and isn’t exactly the friendliest of people. And then there’s fencing, the Most Waspy Sport, along with maaaaaybe archery. Who knows how much formal training she has, and with what, but for both Lex and Lena it’s probably a Lot

Contrary to popular believe it’s not Jesse who likes to sleep in - it’s Hanzo. After always having to get up early - first for his lessons, then later due to nightmares and the constant fear of being found - Hanzo takes full advantage of the safety he found with his Cowboy. 

On most days he tries to keep the early schedule, though, for training purposes. Yet on days when they’re truly off duty, he rarely makes it out of bed before ten am. He curls up into Jesse’s arms, runs his hands across sleepwarm skin and quietly asks Jesse to stay just a little longer.

And Jesse? Never denies him.


Originally posted by wonnhao

  • sorry this gif has a caption but i have to set The Mood and this v-live was all I could think of when i got this request
  • okay so apparently this is a series?? with mingyu??? where he has this imaginary girlfriend named younghee and honestly i died bc i was not ready when this vlive aired
  • but i got lots of inspiration :D
  • so mingyu has had a few relationships

Keep reading

When lesson planning genius strikes at 5am

Wake up like:

Working like:

Running into period 1 late like:

Feeling at the end of the day like:

Chloeslut: Training and Breaking Continues

Chloe, or chloeslut, as her abductor had a started calling her, whimpered silently as she heard the dungeon door open. She had already learned that lesson early. After her first whipping, he told her that she would remain in this pit until she had been fully trained, and the first lesson the slave needed to learn that she was not to make a sound and certainly not speak, unless her master gave her permission.

 The first night he returned she whimpered, knowing that she was probably going to face more agonizing pain, and tried to beg for her freedom. He rewarded that whimper, and request, by viciously beating both of her breasts. He told her, “if this cunt is too stupid to obey a simple order such as silence, then I shall give it something to whimper about.”

The next night she made sure that she didn’t make a single noise.

After that it was the same thing day, after day, after day.

He would come and whip her, or hurt her in some other way, he’d rape her in all three of her, “holes” as he called them. Put her to impossible tasks, designed, he told her, to break her will to resist. Then he’d feed her, a disgusting gruel that he said served the purpose of keeping her nourished, and then he’d leave.

Chloe had tried to keep track of the passage of time, but he had put a helmet on her face early into her captivity and hadn’t removed it since. It had an opening for her mouth, so she could be fed, watered, and mouth raped, but it left her in total darkness, and made it very difficult to hear anything.

He told her that a slave did not need to see or hear to obediently fuck and suffer with its holes and body.

He demonstrated that fact to Chloe repeatedly since telling her that.

As he entered the dungeon, she made sure to be in the exact position that he required.

Kneeling, with her ass on her heels, and her legs spread wide. Her arms were bound behind her, wrist to elbow, making sure that she arched her back. Her chain was pulled tight from her collar to the wall, as if she were straining to greet him, and her mouth was open wide.

It’d taken several nights of repeated beatings to teacher this position. Once he came in, the first thing he did was stuff his cock down her throat. The first evening blowjob. This performance would dictate whether she would suffer normal training discipline, or extra harsh.

She also learned through several failures that while normal discipline was agonizing, the discipline she suffered from a failed blowjob was a horrific hell that she never wanted to experience again.

The thought of the electricity on her opened vagina still gave her nightmares.

Once she finished, he undid the bindings that held her ankles to her thighs, and forced her to stand. She inhaled sharply at the stretching of the muscles, but didn’t actually make a true sound. He smiled at that, at the fact that she was learning.

He examined her quickly and efficiently, making sure that there was no evidence of any damage from the bondage. Once satisfied there wasn’t he examined her overall appearance, nothing that the hormones and injections he was forcing into her were already beginning to have positive results and her once, gorgeous, but relatively small 34B breasts, had begun to grow and were a very satisfactory C nearly D cup.

A few more weeks and he’d be able to begin milking her on a regular basis to get her producing milk and enlarge them even more.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he pulled her to her feet and said to her, “I have good news for you slave, it’s time to take care of your piercings.”

Chloe started to shake. When she’d gotten her ears pierced, it was so painful she couldn’t even imagine doing it anywhere else. When her friends were out getting their bellybutton’s pierced and even their noses, Chloe shied away from it and was always quick to make excuses.

Her master had informed her that she would be given a full set of piercings. A full said to him was nose, bellybutton, nipples, two piercings in both sides of her labia, and, most frighteningly, her clit.

The breasts were bad enough. She wasn’t sure, how he was doing it, but she knew her breasts were growing and they were incredibly painful, and sensitive.

Telling her he was planning to pierce her clit as well, was enough to make her nearly passout and now telling her it was time , she almost broke her discipline and started to beg for mercy. But she held on, barely. Only the memory of what she would suffer if she did try to speak allowed her to maintain her silent.

She had well learned in the time she had been in his dark dungeon, whipped in raped repeatedly, that mercy was never a possibility.

Soon, Chloe was strapped, tightly, into something that felt all the world like a gynecology chair. She tested her bonds, and strained against them until her master brought his hand down sharply across her pussy, “stay still slave. If you’re squirming makes me fuck one of these up you’re going to be very sorry. After all, technically I don’t see reason for you to have a clit. So, I could just as easily remove it if your inability to stay still becomes too annoying.”

Those words froze her into complete immobility. Like a statue made of granite, she promised herself not to move. The master, started with her nose. She felt the forceps grip her septum and held her breath as she next felt the sharp pain.

She couldn’t help but whimper, but he said nothing, simply slipped the ring into it, and clamped to close. She heard the snap and he said, “these rings are solid. Once closed they cannot be removed except by being cut. That’s unlikely since they’re made of a high-grade titanium. For all intents and purposes, they are permanent, and I suggest you get used to them.”

The next 30 minutes was an agonizing hell. He pierced both of her nipples, and ringed them next, telling her that she would sometimes wear silver bells, once he moved her on to pony training.

She couldn’t fathom all he was telling her, and her mind was overloading and shutting down again. This was something she’d experienced repeatedly in the past weeks of her pain and suffering.

Through it all she tried to maintain some since of herself, but with each passing day. With each violation, each humiliation, each painful whipping, and agonizing rape, she felt herself slipping further and further away.

She felt herself becoming exactly what she said he would. She wanted to fight but it seemed to hopeless.

She hated herself more and more each day because of that weakness.

Unaware of her inner dialogue, and with little chance he’d care even if her knew, her owner quickly and efficiently pierced both of her labia, and smiled when she wasn’t able to stay silent for those.

In fact, she was now crying almost constantly under her helmet.

He continued to ignore it in lieu of finishing what he was doing and simply continuing his work.

Finally, it came time for the final piercing. Deciding to have some fun, he did this one a little differently.

Chloe was getting more and more terrified as he progressed and finally, she knew it was time. He was going to put a horrible, painful piercing in her most sensitive area and there was nothing she could do about it.

She was pulling against the straps almost constantly now, her fear of the needle she knew was coming overriding her fear of a threat of losing her clit completely.

Then suddenly, incredibly, she felt a vibrator, against her clit.

Her body responded instinctively, growing aroused. Her whimpering, at that point had a different tone, as did her crying.

This was another thing he did, forcing her to orgasm, even when she didn’t want to. He’d explained, as he did about everything he did to her because he wanted her to know what was happening to her, that he liked making her cum because it was another way to demonstrate he controlled her body, now, not her.

No matter how often she tried to resist them he always turned out to be right, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of her body, whenever he wanted to, with frightening ease.

This time was no different, and she couldn’t help the growing arousal.

He began to pull on the new piercings and her nipples, and, amazingly, it just drove her arousal higher.

Her thoughts, while incoherent, occasionally drifted to lucidity enough to ask herself, "how could she be getting aroused by this? What kind of a slut was she?”

If he could have read her mind he would have smiled, his training was doing exactly what it was intended to do, make a question her own self-worth, make her consider herself a slut. From there she would eventually see herself as nothing but a whore, and then a hole, and then eventually nothing.

Once he had achieved that he would be able to rebuild her and do exactly what he wanted.

But that was for later, for now, he was using her own body’s arousal against her. He had learned to read her body well at this point, and knew what she was approaching orgasm.

Then, when she was just at the edge he pulled the vibrator away, quickly grabbed the engorged button with the forceps, and drove the piercing needle through it.

The scream of agony was something she could have never held in and she twisted and bucked against her bonds as she did so.

Fortunately, the piercing was already finished, so he didn’t need to worry about it being ruined.

Once her struggles had started to diminish, as exhaustion was quick to set in, he ringed her clit as he’d done with the other piercings, sealing it into place permenantly, just as he had done with the others.

With that done, he grabbed the new clit ring and twisted it viciously.

This renewed her screams and he said, “now you’re done slave. With these piercings in place I can control you even more efficiently than I have already. Do you really think you would be able to resist if I pulled on this,” and he yanked on her clit piercing once again.

Chloe realize, frighteningly, that was true. While he had shown brutal efficiency in controlling her in the past, now, with these piercings in place, he would be able to control her like an animal.

She would never be willing to resist anything, a simple twist of one of her nipple rings, or even more frighteningly, her labia or clit piercing and she would do anything that he instructed her to do. She realized that he had just pushed her further into exactly what he said he was going to turn her into.

She realized that he was turning her into a slave, and there is nothing that she could do about it. It was the first time she’d truly understood and accepted that reality and she felt her will collapse under the weight of it.

For the first time she called him, in her mind, her master, and she, she wasn’t Chloe, anymore, she, was chloeslut.

Her head dropped in defeat.

Her master released her from the piercing chair and quickly strapped her into another. He stuffed her cunt with a dildo and then began to whip her newly pierced cunt lips and clit.

The pain was incredible and she couldn’t help but scream. All while her master was saying, “this slave was told to be quiet and it failed. This slave was told what the price of failure was and is still decided to be disobedient. Is still deciding to be insolent. This slave obviously needs more training.”

Through it all she shook her head, desperate to tell him that she would obey, that she was trying her best but he had gagged her, before starting, with a ring gag, that made any intelligible words impossible.

Finally, after an eternity, he released her and dragged her back to the wall where she usually slept. He said, “the slave doesn’t deserve its mattress tonight. And instead it will be punished extra.”

She almost whimpered again at this point but the whipping, still fresh, kept her silent.

20 minutes later, she almost would believe the whimpering wouldn’t do much harm considering her situation. She was strapped on her knees, to something that she had come to learn was called a Sybian.

It was a vibrator that the master often liked to use to force her to orgasm.

Of course, she was never given permission to orgasm, so any orgasms she had were later punished. She knew that if she was being put on this thing, her master intended extreme extra punishment for her for her failure to obey.

She was proven right when he said, "this slave is going to spend the next two hours like this. I’ve made sure it is well lubricated, but it needs to learn its lessons. When I come back, it will be punished for the orgasms that I know this disobedient hole is going to have. Maybe after that, it will be ready to finally demonstrate that it is able to obey such a simple order as to fucking be quiet.”

With that, chloeslut’s bondage was finished, and the Sybian turned on.

She didn’t see her master turn and walk away as, while he’d removed her helmet to wash it, he’d still wrapped her head to keep her blind. As such, she didn’t see him stop at the door and turn back to watch her body as it was slowly vibrated to the point that her resistance was overwhelmed and she came in the whimpering cry of surrendered anguish.

He smiled, she’d only been here a few weeks, and she was already adapting beautifully.

Typically, he needed to train something for at least two months before one of his acquisitions was even rudimentarily prepared for the block.

If she kept going at this pace, he might be able to cut two weeks off the regular training schedule he used.

He probably wouldn’t, she was entirely too much fun to punish and torture, but who knows, with the right offer he might do so.

With that thought, he opened and shut the door, and went up the stairs, plans running through his head.

In another couple of weeks, he would begin her pony and puppy training.

He could not wait to see her dressed as a full pony, pulling a cart, or blind on her elbows and knees in a full latex puppy suit. After that, he was sure that her breasts would be ready for the milking machine. If they weren’t, that would just be one more thing he would be able to punish her for.

One way, or another, she would be a fully trained puppy, a fully trained pony, and a fully serviced hucow when she was sold.

She was going to earn him a substantial amount of money, so he would make sure that she performed flawlessly.

Creation of the one-shot  tag. Created April 15, 2017. Number of Recs: 8

Queen of Love and Beauty by  cherubicwindigo | R:G | W:1K+ | 1/1

What if Arya finished her ‘dancing lessons’ early and attended The Hand’s Tourney?

Hands by jeeno2 | R:M | W:5K+ | 1/1

Even after years with Arya, Gendry still feels self-conscious about their class differences. Arya is determined to help him overcome it. Modern Day AU. 

Five Times Arya and Gendry Didn’t Kiss, and One Time They Did by jeeno2 | R:T | W:1K+ | 1/1

In which Gendry Baratheon is King Robert’s oldest trueborn son.

Haircuts at Harrenhal by Staymay5 | R:G | W:419 | 1/1

Arya really needs a hair cut.

Life Grander than that Imagined by Staymay5 | R:T | W:2K+ | 1/1

Gendry imagines a world where Arya is safe, and loved, and happy. He just doesn’t imagine that world including him.

The Corner of Her Smile, the Edges of Your Spirit by nocturneblack  | R:T | W:340 | 1/1

She comes back to you as something broken, but your hands are accustomed to mending steel.

A poem for Gendry, about Arya.

Flurry by almost_certain | R:E | W:7K+ | 1/1

Gendry thinks of Arya whenever the inns new serving girl comes around. They don’t even look that much alike, there’s just something about their eyes…

Smut that I’ve attempted to put some plot behind.

Make Her Better by Becca_vs_world | R:T | W: 2K+ | 1/1

Arya is stuck with the flu. Gendry nurses her back to health, all while trying to battle his feelings for her.


He will need it, he thinks, for a great many things.

- From the Spirit/Spirit AU by @feynites

I can’t express all my feelings… I had to keep looking away from the words to clutch my heart. I love this plot so much, it’s just wonderful. ;_; I must know what happens next. Does he ever have to make polite small talk with Elgar’nan?

You know what I think would be fun to see?

Hiccup learning to use Inferno. Somewhere between the first movie and second, Hiccup developed amazing swordsmanship skills. Some of it is probably from experience, given how many people like attacking him. But I bet he also had training.

Something I want to see in RTTE season 4 is that training. Hiccup finishes Inferno and, while a flaming sword is awesome, he needs to learn how to use it well. Being so far from Berk, I don’t see Stoick and Hiccup having the time to travel to see each other and train.

But you know who doesn’t have to travel?


I want to see (or at least hear about) her training him. I want to see her and Hiccup discussing techniques and how to hold onto their weapon. I want to see them spar, axe against sword. I want early morning lessons that happen when everyone else is still waking up. I want to see Astrid’s grin when Hiccup starts getting the hang of it. I want to see Hiccup using a move in a fight against dragon hunters that Astrid told him about.

I would love it.