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harrysonlylover · 1 year

Text

A Family Guy*

Summary: Your Fiancée’s self control flew out of the window as soon as he heard news concerning your fertility.

Wc: 3k

Trope: Ceo! H

Warnings: Breeding kink .

A/n: i have nothing to say except that i’m ovulating.

Ceo H Masterlist

Harry Styles is a busy man.

He runs a manufacturing company that gained a reputation in the industry without any effort. Pleasing was nurtured from his love for pleasure and lust. He dedicated the past five years to growing his business and making sure it’s known to everyone.

Many CEOs who become important and have hundreds of employees under their hands, tend to sit back and ignore their duties now that they have people to do their job. Harry despised those types of people and would not consider them businessmen.

He loved going to his office every day, it was a reminder of what he achieved and will continue to do. He loves greeting his employees as he walks inside the building, making sure that everyone is pleased with their job and that dissatisfaction is nonexistent.

Working is not something that he dislikes, he managed to remain a respectful gentleman instead of loading up his work on everyone. Perhaps that is why his company is successful, every single person does only what their designated major allows them to do, Harry grants them fair bonuses and vacations and is a nice boss. The safe environment he created was a huge factor in his success.

However, without his own inventions, Pleasing is merely a name. The only thing in the company that is solely managed by him and only him is the sex toys. Pleasing’s fame came from a controversial ad where Harry appeared nude in a photoshoot with only his hand covering his hip. The more he was criticized, the more products he invented.

The ones he first began to make were the regular ones: dildos, straps ins, and vibrators. But everyone noted the shift in his inventions and how he came up with things that radiated pure lust. Little does everyone know that it was all thanks to you.

You and Harry met at his sex club, you had fun along with other members and that night was the best in his life. Not because it was an orgy, he’s been involved in many ones before, but your sexual energy had him mesmerized. He waited for you to return and asked you out, he was apprehensive of your answer and thought you’d prefer to keep things strictly sexual but when you told him you’d only accept if he made you cum in five minutes, he knew that he found his future wife.

After that, you became his inspiration as Pleasing’s name rose to fame and became the number-one sex toy company in the world. He created Panty Vibrators to tease you in public, long-distance sex toys for when he’s travelling, suction toys to watch you wither before him, transparent plugs that suck in his cum so that he can watch how his seed is stored inside of you, butt plugs with all initials but only so he can see ‘H’ sitting pretty at your entrance, a double penetration vibrator that he uses as a ‘warm up’, vibrating dildos that he inserts in one of your holes while fucking the other, and last but not least cotton panties with ‘Daddy’ printed on the ass.

Your sexual energies were connected on a whole other level, you were confident with your body and preferences but still encountered rude hookups from time to time. It’s safe to say that Harry worships you in and out of the bedroom.

Despite being a very sexual person, he also does not fail to show his romantic side every day. You’re glad to say that you have found your man, which is why it wasn’t a surprise when you said yes to his proposal after only one year of dating.

Recently, you’ve been both busy with a tiring schedule that barely allows you to see each other, but that didn’t stop you from at least cuddling at night or preparing breakfast for one another.

Harry is opening his first branch in another country and he’s been preparing for it for over 6 months now. It’s been sitting on the top of his head along with wedding preparations which is why you took over them.

Thankfully you and him communicate well, you also are aware of how much work requires him to be present in his office a lot. Harry vowed to you that after the branch’s opening, he will hire a few people to take over some things and help him run the company. He wants to dedicate his time to you and his future family.

He never tried to hide his desire to have children, in fact, he’s quite obsessed with the idea. He even asks you if the babies would look more like him or you, and what features would they inherit. You could see how he pouts at Bloomingdale when he spots infant clothes with cute little bows.

On the other hand, you can’t wait for him to impregnate you. You never told him that you have a breeding kink but only because you didn’t know of it. To think that he wants to pin you down and fill you up again and again, care for you, and be the reason your belly and breasts swell makes you go crazy.

Your fiancée, a healthy man in body and mind, who treats you like his own queen, knows how to manhandle you only when you want to, and goes down on his knees for you is also the man you’d allow to breed you at any given moment.

The wedding preparations were pushed a few months into Summer so that Harry’s branch opening would be smooth, but that didn’t stop you from taking a few health tests to ensure that all was well before the wedding.

Harry was to return home early tonight as promised, so you finished cooking his favorite dinner, cleaned up, and changed into comfier clothes on time right as he walked into your shared apartment.

“Sweetheart? I need a kiss.” He whined dramatically and you knew that he was going to pretend to be hurt so you could love on him.

“I’m in the kitchen.” You replied with a smile already forming on your face.

Harry followed your voice to the kitchen where you were moving the chicken onto a serving dish. You can feel his body moving towards you until his scent becomes too consuming and his arms wrapped around you.

“It feels so good to come home to you.” He mumbled as he breathed in your hair.

You hummed making sure to not spill the food as you hugged him back. Harry pressed himself on your ass making you let out a gasp. You haven’t had sex in nearly a week which counts as a year for the two of you.

“Baby let’s leave our activities till after dinner.” You spun around to face him, cradling his face in your hands as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

He began helping you by preparing the dining table, cleaning up, and putting everything in its place while you placed the food on the table. Harry spotted a prescription paper near your handbag and got concerned when he saw that it was from the gynecologist.

“Baby, Did you visit Dr. Martins? Are you okay?” He stood next to you with a worried expression as he awaited your response.

“Yes love it was my regular checkup and it happened that my tests came out so we talked and he gave me some vitamins.” You assured him as his jaw immediately relaxed.

“So all is well?”

“Yes, I promise, the vitamins are just a supplement. He even told me that I happen to be more fertile than average.” Harry was relieved to hear your reassurance, however his ears perked up at your last sentence.

“What did you say?” He asked to make sure you’re not pranking him.

“I’m more fertile than average.” You mixed the salad as you repeated your words, forgetting all about Harry’s breeding kink.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as you told him you could easily get pregnant casually while making food as you stood in his oversized shirt and no panties on.

He slowly walked over to you, with his hands in his pockets and suit adorning his body. His body trapped yours and he removed the spatula from your hands making you catch his attention.

“Did you just inform me that you’re suitable for breeding and expect me to stay quiet about it? Hmm?” His voice immediately shifted into the deep raspy version, the one that tells you he entered ‘Daddy’ mode.

You immediately realized what was going on as a gasp left your lips, you didn’t even bat an eye when the doctor informed you having forgotten all about the breeding kink. Harry stared back at you with darkened pupils as his hand traced your thighs.

“You were planning on hiding from me the fact that this cunt is fertile? That it can take my seed and give me a child in one year?” He cupped your pussy and buried his face in your neck as his tobacco vanilla perfume overwhelmed your nostrils. You had to process what was happening rapidly as you still couldn’t get over how the doctor’s news didn’t ring a bell for you.

“Baby it slipped my mind.” You panted as he pressed hungry wet kisses to your neck, trying not to think about how his clad ring hand can cup your cunt and cover it, reaching up to your ass.

“It’s okay darling, the only thing slipping will be my cock from how much I’m gonna fill you up.” Everything was now falling into place as Harry stimulated your breeding kink and you realized the importance of what the doctor said. You humped against his hand as you clutched onto his toned biceps that are bulging through his Gucci suit.

“Please put a baby inside of me.” You pulled him in as you began feeling submissive and in need of your fiancée to manhandle you.

“You don’t know what you’re in for. I’m gonna give you everything. Do you hear me?” The dinner is now long discarded as Harry picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist before heading to the bedroom.

You can feel your pussy pulsating and clenching around nothing at the thought of him giving you a child, he’s too indulged in kissing as he lays you down on the silk sheets before taking off your shirt and his suit.

“Baby tell me you want this. Do you want me to get you pregnant?” He whispered with his forehead against yours, seeking your consent knowing that you were off birth control and could be ovulating.

“Yes, I need it .” You almost cried as you felt Harry’s skin on yours with his hard cock leaking on your thigh.

“Oh poor baby, can’t fight your instinct to be a mother, can you? I’m gonna make you the most spoiled mother. Give you my seed whenever you want it, you’ll use my cock and take what belongs to you.” He sucked on your nipples with labored breaths as the wetness in between your thighs was now too much to ignore.

“Harry I want you inside of me, I can’t take it anymore.” You whined in pain trying to reach for Harry’s cock.

“I know I know, let me fill you up.” He guided his cock to your entrance, lubricating the tip with your wetness as his eyes darkened at the thought of your cunt flooding with his cum.

He pushed inside you, making you let out a scream of pleasure at the burn and feeling of fullness. Harry could never be able to get over the feeling of stretching you out, especially when he’s doing it to breed you.

“Fuck baby you have the tightest cunt. Will need to keep stretching you out so you can push our child out.” He groaned as your walls sucked him inside.

With or without prep, you were always ready to take him not minding the burn from his length. Yet this time, you could both feel something so different from all the other times, something was tugging at your heart, as Harry closed any gap existent between you and felt each other skin to skin.

“My girl, make me a father.” He was pleading with every thrust he gave, while you whined beneath him. The heat you were feeling where you’re connected along with Harry’s weight on you, his grip on your hips and tongue lapping at yours made you want to cry. Being overwhelmed with emotions never felt this good.

“I feel so full” You cried out as Harry kissed your temple going deep inside of you.

Harry couldn’t think straight when you told him how fertile you are, he saw nothing in front of him but your bump protruding from your sundress, your breasts swelling and lactating because of him.

His primal instinct came out unintentionally as he plunged inside you easily, as your wetness made him more feral. It didn’t take you long to get wet, and he’s sure you’re soaking the sheets from the sound of your shared arousal echoing through the room.

“I’ll put a ring on your finger and take you out to show everyone that I made you pregnant, fuck you over and over again till I don’t have any cum left inside of me.” He kissed your ring finger as his heart thumped against his chest from how much he loved you.

His plunges only got deeper making you gasp as his tip reached your stomach, while your legs wrapped around his hips prompting him to fill you up. You were both greedy when it came to physical contact, never getting enough of each other.

The veins on his shaft scratched the itch you never knew you had, and your walls kept contracting around him uncontrollably, you were already tight as it was but the squeezing made Harry let out a groan.

“Had to get it deep inside you so it can catch.” He pressed on the skin of your belly moaning as he felt the bulge of his thick cock.

“Fuck me harder... fill me up with your cum.” Your words were incoherent as your brain felt fuzzy from the pleasure.

Usually, Harry would last much longer, there were times when you’d spend the night in each other’s arms as you recharge your energy for more rounds. But now, the pleasure he’s feeling is simply too much for him, just when he thought that his stamina was tough, you casually told him you’re extremely fertile.

“I’ll keep stuffing you until I’m drained.” He let out an animalistic groan as he released thick ropes of cum painting your walls white.

His cum reached deep inside of you, while you moaned at the load he gave you, it was like his cock refused to let you go and was adamant about breeding you. You were sure that his cum is now soaking the sheets, as it leaked from where you were connected to your thighs.

“Fuck Harry that’s a lot.” Your own orgasm washed over your body from the feeling of his cum filling your cunt. Your nails scratched his back unintentionally as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Harry arched his back slightly, as he raised his hips and yours in a vertical position before placing a pillow beneath your hips. He prepped kisses on your face in between ‘ I love you’ and ‘Thank you’.

He kept himself buried inside of you, afraid that he’d spill anything. If he wants a baby then he’s going to give you everything. He would never be upset if it took many tries, heck it would mean more breeding sessions. But he can’t help feeding his primal instinct and giving in to impregnating you.

“You can pull out if you want .” You stroked his hair and kissed the pout on his lips which indicates how he doesn’t want to part from you.

He lifted himself slowly and looked down to where you’re connected as he reluctantly pulled out after asking you to ‘squeeze your cunt and hold it in’. The sight before him had him rolling his eyes as he watched his cum covered cock slowly leave your cunt that is swimming with his seed.

You immediately clenched your thighs together but there was simply too much of his load to keep that you didn’t even feel empty when he pulled out. Harry noted how the more you clenched your pussy, the more cum came out and leaked down to your asshole.

“Look at your pathetic cunt filled with my cum, you want to me breed you so bad don’t you?” He caught some of his arousal using his fingers and plunged it back inside your pussy.

Your hands gripped the sheets feeling his creamy cum flood your cunt while he kept fingering you as your shared arousal leaked onto his engagement ring.

“You should go the bathroom baby.” He lifted your body and cradled you in his arms.

“Just a bit more..” You promised him to get up exactly in five minutes as he held you and pressed kissed to your chest.

“I’m gonna spoil you and our baby so bad, buy you everything, and watch as you grow life inside of you. I’ll keep giving you babies for as long as you want, all you have to do is ask and I’ll have the world at your feet.” He mumbled sweet nothings, kissing your engagement ring and smiling at your necklace that’s holding his initial.

Harry was over the moon at the thought of starting a family with you, he thanked you for being the woman of his dreams and already the most beautiful mother. All that he owned in life whether property or assets was irrelevant when it came to you.

After all, Harry Styles is a busy man, but never for his family.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years

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It was all downhill after the Cuecat

Sometime in 2001, I walked into a Radio Shack on San Francisco’s Market Street and asked for a Cuecat: a handheld barcode scanner that looked a bit like a cat and a bit like a sex toy. The clerk handed one over to me and I left, feeling a little giddy. I didn’t have to pay a cent.

The Cuecat was a good idea and a terrible idea. The good idea was to widely distribute barcode scanners to computer owners, along with software that could read and decode barcodes; the company’s marketing plan called for magazines and newspapers to print barcodes alongside ads and articles, so readers could scan them and be taken to the digital edition. To get the Cuecat into widespread use, the company raised millions in the capital markets, then mass-manufactured these things and gave them away for free at Radio Shacks around the country. Every Wired and Forbes subscriber got one in the mail!

That was the good idea (it’s basically a prototype for today’s QR-codes). The terrible idea was that this gadget would spy on you. Also, it would only work with special barcodes that had to be licensed from the manufacturer. Also, it would only work on Windows.

https://web.archive.org/web/20001017162623/http://www.businessweek.com/bwdaily/dnflash/sep2000/nf20000928_029.htm

But the manufacturer didn’t have the last word! Not at all. A couple of enterprising hardware hackers — Pierre-Philippe Coupard and Michael Rothwell — tore down a Cuecat, dumped its ROM, and produced their own driver for it — a surveillance-free driver that worked with any barcode. You could use it to scan the UPCs on your books or CDs or DVDs to create a catalog of your media; you could use it to scan UPCs on your groceries to make a shopping list. You could do any and every one of these things, because the Cuecat was yours.

Cuecat’s manufacturer, Digital Convergence, did not like this at all. They sent out legal demand letters and even shut down some of the repositories that were hosting alternative Cuecat firmware. They changed the license agreement that came with the Cuecat software CD to prohibit reverse-engineering.

http://www.cexx.org/cuecat.htm

It didn’t matter, both as a practical matter and as a matter of law. As a practical matter, the (ahem) cat was out of the bag: there were so many web-hosting companies back then, and people mirrored the code to so many of them, the company would have its hands full chasing them all down and intimidating them into removing the code.

Then there was the law: how could you impose license terms on a gift? How could someone be bound by license terms on a CD that they simply threw away without ever opening it, much less putting it in their computer?

https://slashdot.org/story/00/09/18/1129226/digital-convergence-changes-eula-and-gets-cracked

In the end, Cuecat folded and sold off its remaining inventory. The early 2000s were not a good time to be a tech company, much less a tech company whose business model required millions of people to meekly accept a bad bargain.

Back then, tech users didn’t feel any obligation to please tech companies’ shareholders: if they backed a stupid business, that was their problem, not ours. Venture capitalists were capitalists — if they wanted us give to them according to their need and take from them according to their ability, they should be venture communists.

Last August, philosopher and Centre for Technomoral Futures director Shannon Vallor tweeted, “The saddest thing for me about modern tech’s long spiral into user manipulation and surveillance is how it has just slowly killed off the joy that people like me used to feel about new tech. Every product Meta or Amazon announces makes the future seem bleaker and grayer.”

https://twitter.com/ShannonVallor/status/1559659655097376768

She went on: “I don’t think it’s just my nostalgia, is it? There’s no longer anything being promised to us by tech companies that we actually need or asked for. Just more monitoring, more nudging, more draining of our data, our time, our joy.”

https://twitter.com/ShannonVallor/status/1559663985821106177

Today on Tumblr, @wilwheaton responded: “[T]here is very much no longer a feeling of ‘How can this change/improve my life?’ and a constant dread of ‘How will this complicate things as I try to maintain privacy and sanity in a world that demands I have this thing to operate.’”

https://wilwheaton.tumblr.com/post/698603648058556416/cory-doctorow-if-you-see-this-and-have-thoughts

Wil finished with, “Cory Doctorow, if you see this and have thoughts, I would LOVE to hear them.”

I’ve got thoughts. I think this all comes back to the Cuecat.

When the Cuecat launched, it was a mixed bag. That’s generally true of technology — or, indeed, any product or service. No matter how many variations a corporation offers, they can never anticipate all the ways that you will want or need to use their technology. This is especially true for the users the company values the least — poor people, people in the global south, women, sex workers, etc.

That’s what makes the phrase “So easy your mom can use it” particularly awful “Moms” are the kinds of people whose priorities and difficulties are absent from the room when tech designers gather to plan their next product. The needs of “moms” are mostly met by mastering, configuring and adapting technology, because tech doesn’t work out of the box for them:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/19/the-weakest-link/#moms-are-ninjas

(As an alternative, I advocate for “so easy your boss can use it,” because your boss gets to call up the IT department and shout, “I don’t care what it takes, just make it work!” Your boss can solve problems through raw exercise of authority, without recourse to ingenuity.)

Technology can’t be understood separately from technology users. This is the key insight in Donald Norman’s 2004 book Emotional Design, which argued that the ground state of all technology is broken, and the overarching task of tech users is to troubleshoot the things they use:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/29/banjo-nazis/#cuckoos-egg

Troubleshooting is both an art and a science: it requires both a methodical approach and creative leaps. The great crisis of troubleshooting is that the more frustrated and angry you are, the harder it is to be methodical or creative. Anger turns attention into a narrow tunnel of brittle movements and thinking.

In Emotional Design, Norman argues that technology should be beautiful and charming, because when you like a technology that has stopped working, you are able to troubleshoot it in an expansive, creative, way. Emotional Design was not merely remarkable for what it said, but for who said it.

Donald Norman, after all, was the author of the hugely influential 1998 classic The Design of Everyday Things, which counseled engineers and designers to put function over form — to design things that work well, even if that meant stripping away ornament and sidelining aesthetics.

https://www.basicbooks.com/titles/don-norman/the-design-of-everyday-things/9780465050659/

With Emotional Design, Norman argued that aesthetics were functional, because aesthetics primed users to fix the oversights and errors and blind spots of designers. It was a manifesto for competence and humility.

And yet, as digital technology has permeated deeper into our lives, it has grown less configurable, not more. Companies today succeed where Cuecat failed. Consolidation in the online world means that if you remove a link from one search engine and four social media sites, the material in question vanishes for 99% of internet users.

It’s even worse for apps: anyone who succeeds in removing an app from two app stores essentially banishes it from the world. One mobile platform uses technological and legal countermeasures to make it virtually impossible to sideload an app; the other one relies on strong-arm tactics and deceptive warnings to do so.

That means that when a modern Coupard and Rothwell decides to unfuck some piece of technology — to excise the surveillance and proprietary media requirements, leaving behind the welcome functionality — they can only do so with the sufferance of the manufacturer. If the manufacturer doesn’t like an add-on, mod, plug-in or overlay, they can use copyright takedowns, anticircumvention law, patent threats, trademark threats, cybersecurity law, contract law and other “IP” to simply banish the offending code:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Many of these laws carry dire penalties. For example, distributing a tool that bypasses an “access control” so that you can change the software on a gadget (say, to make your printer accept third-party ink) is a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA, punishable by a $500k fine and a 5-year prison sentence.

If Cuecat’s manufacturers had simply skinned their firmware with a thin scrim of DRM, they could have threatened Coupard and Rothwell with prison sentences. The developments in “IP” over the two decades since the Cuecat have conjured up a new body of de facto law that Jay Freeman calls “felony contempt of business model.”

Once we gave companies the power to literally criminalize the reconfiguration of their products, everything changed. In the Cuecat era, a corporate meeting to plan a product that acted against its users’ interests had to ask, “How will we sweeten the pot and/or obfuscate our code so that our users don’t remove the anti-features we’re planning to harm them with?”

But in a world of Felony Contempt of Business Model, that discussion changes to “Given that we can literally imprison anyone who helps our users get more out of this product, how can we punish users who are disloyal enough to simply quit our service or switch away from our product?”

That is, “how can we raise the switching costs of our products so that users who are angry at us keep using our products?” When Facebook was planning its photos product, they deliberately designed it to tempt users into making it the sole repository of their family photos, in order to hold those photos ransom to keep Facebook users from quitting for G+:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

Companies claim that their lock-in strategies are about protecting their users: “Move into our walled garden, for it is a fortress, whose battlements bristle with fearsome warriors who will defend you from the bandits who roam the countryside”:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

But this “feudal security” offers a terrible temptation to the lords of these fortresses, because once you are inside those walls, the fortress can easily be converted to a prison: these companies can abuse you with impunity, for so long as the cost of the abuse is less than the cost of the things you must give up when you leave.

The tale that companies block you from overriding their decisions is for your own good was always dubious, because companies simply can’t anticipate all the ways their products will fail you. No design team knows as much about your moment-to-moment struggles as you do.

But even where companies are sincere in their desire to be the most benevolent of dictators, the gun on the mantelpiece in Act I is destined to go off by Act III: eventually, the temptation to profit by hurting you will overpower whatever “corporate ethics” once stayed the hand of the techno-feudalist who rules over your fortress. Under feudal security, you are one lapse in corporate leadership from your protector turning into your tormentor.

When Apple launched the Ipad 12 years ago, I published an editorial entitled “Why I won’t buy an iPad (and think you shouldn’t, either),” in which I predicted that app stores would inevitable be turned against users:

https://memex.craphound.com/2010/04/01/why-i-wont-buy-an-ipad-and-think-you-shouldnt-either/

Today, Apple bans apps if they “use…a third-party service” unless they “are specifically permitted to do so under the service’s terms of use.” In other words, Apple specifically prohibits developers from offering tools that displease other companies’ shareholders, no matter whether this pleases Apple customers:

https://developer.apple.com/app-store/review/guidelines/#intellectual-property

Note that clause 5.2.2 of Apple’s developer agreement doesn’t say “You mustn’t violate a legally enforceable term of service.” It just says, “Thou shalt not violate a EULA.” EULAs are garbage-novellas of impenetrable legalese, larded with unenforceable and unconscionable terms.

Apple sometimes will displease other companies on your behalf. For example, it instituted a one-click anti-tracking setting for Ios that cost Facebook $10 billion in a matter of months:

https://www.cnbc.com/2022/02/02/facebook-says-apple-ios-privacy-change-will-cost-10-billion-this-year.html

But Apple also has big plans to expand its margins by growing its own advertising network. When Apple customers choose ad-blockers that block Apple’s ads, will Apple permit it?

https://www.wired.com/story/apple-is-an-ad-company-now/

The problem with app stores isn’t whether your computing experience is “curated” — that is, whether entities you trust can produce collections of software they vouch for. The problem is when you can’t choose someone else — when leaving a platform involves high switching costs, whether that’s having to replace hardware, buy new media, or say goodbye to your friends, customers, community or family.

When a company can leverage its claims to protecting you to protect itself from you — from choices you might make that ultimately undermine its shareholders interests, even if they protect your own interests — it would be pretty goddamned naive to expect it to do otherwise.

More and more of our tools are now digital tools, whether we’re talking about social media or cars, tractors or games consoles, toothbrushes or ovens:

https://www.hln.be/economie/gentse-foodboxleverancier-mealhero-failliet-klanten-weten-van-niets~a3139f52/

And more and more, those digital tools look more like apps than Cuecats, with companies leveraging “IP” to let them control who can compete with them — and how. Indeed, browsers are becoming more app-like, rather than the other way around.

Back in 2017, the W3C took the unprecedented step of publishing a DRM standard despite this standard not having anything like the consensus that is the norm for W3C publications, and the W3C rejected a proposal to protect people who reverse-engineered that standard to add accessibility features or correct privacy defects:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

And while we’re seeing remarkable progress on Right to Repair and other policies that allow the users of technology to override the choices of vendors, there’s another strong regulatory current that embraces companies’ ability to control their users, in the hopes that these big companies will police their users to prevent bad stuff, from controversial measures like filtering for copyright infringement to more widely supported ideas like blocking child sex abuse material (CSAM, AKA “child porn”).

There are two problems with this. First, if we tell companies they must control their users (that is, block them from running plugins, mods, skins, filters, etc) then we can’t tell them that they must not control their users. It comes down to whether you want to make Mark Zuckerberg better at his job, or whether you want to abolish the job of “Mark Zuckerberg.”

https://doctorow.medium.com/unspeakable-8c7bbd4974bc

Then there’s the other problem — the gun on the mantelpiece problem. If we give big companies the power to control their users, they will face enormous internal pressure to abuse that power. This isn’t a hypothetical risk: Facebook’s top executives stand accused of accepting bribes from Onlyfans in exchange for adding performers who left Onlyfans to a terrorist watchlist, which meant they couldn’t use other platforms:

https://gizmodo.com/clegg-meta-executives-identified-in-onlyfans-bribery-su-1849649270

I’m not a fan of terrorist watchlists, for obvious reasons. But letting Facebook manage the terrorist watchlist was clearly a mistake. But Facebook’s status as a “trusted reporter” grows directly out of Facebook’s good work on moderation. The lesson is the same as the one with Apple and the ads — just because the company sometimes acts in our interests, it doesn’t follow that we should always trust them to do so.

Back to Shannon Vallor’s question about the origins of “modern tech’s long spiral into user manipulation and surveillance” and how that “killed off the joy that people like me used to feel about new tech”; and Wil Wheaton’s “constant dread of ‘How will this complicate things as I try to maintain privacy and sanity.”

Tech leaders didn’t get stupider or crueler since those halcyon days. The tech industry was and is filled with people who made their bones building weapons of mass destruction for the military-industrial complex; IBM, the company that gave us the PC, built the tabulating machines for Nazi concentration camps:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IBM_and_the_Holocaust

We didn’t replace tech investors and leaders with worse people — we have the same kinds of people but we let them get away with more. We let them buy up all their competitors. We let them use the law to lock out competitors they couldn’t buy, including those who would offer their customers tools to lower their switching costs and block abusive anti-features.

We decided to create “Felony Contempt of Business Model,” and let the creators of the next Cuecat reach beyond the walls of their corporate headquarters and into the homes of their customers, the offices of their competitors, and the handful of giant tech sites that control our online discourse, to reach into those places and strangle anything that interfered with their commercial desires.

That’s why plans to impose interoperability on tech giants are so exciting — because the problem with Facebook isn’t “the people I want to speak to are all gathered in one convenient place,” no more than the problem with app stores isn’t “these companies generally have good judgment about which apps I want to use.”

The problem is that when those companies don’t have your back, you have to pay a blisteringly high price to leave their walled gardens. That’s where interop comes in. Think of how an interoperable Facebook could let you leave behind Zuckerberg’s dominion without forswearing access to the people who matter to you:

https://www.eff.org/interoperablefacebook

Cuecats were cool. The people who made them were assholes. Interop meant that you could get the cool gadget and tell the assholes to fuck off. We have lost the ability to do so, little by little, for decades, and that’s why a new technology that seems cool no longer excites. That’s why we feel dread — because we know that a cool technology is just bait to lure us into a prison that masquerades as a fortress.

Image: Jerry Whiting (modified) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:CueCat_barcode_scanner.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A Cuecat scanner with a bundled cable and PS/2 adapter; it resembles a plastic cat and also, slightly, a sex toy. It is posed on a Matrix movie 'code waterfall' background and limned by a green 'supernova' light effect.]

#pluralistic

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ittybittyluci · 15 days

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So y’all remember this scene right?

From Helluva Boss S2 E7? When Mammon threatened Ozzie. And how EVERYONE was freaking out and so scared cuz they though Asmodeus was gonna get in trouble for his relationship,

But, now I’m looking back and I’m like… why IS he gonna regret it. He’ll get public backlash sure, but eventually everyone’s gonna have to get over it. He’s a Sin. He’s the main sex toy manufacturer in Hell. I don’t think ppl are gonna care enough to boycott. They’re too desperate.

The only people that outrank him are the royal family. And like… in all actuality, who’s gonna get mad at him?

This bitch?!

Please!

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goqmir · 3 months

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need to have my throat used while im told over and over again while they caress my hair that im just an inflatable sex toy, a simple rubbery fuck doll whose holes were designed and manufactured for this one domestic purpose over and over until i, broken and breathless, truly believe it in my heart. tbh

#hornyposting

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rineptune · 2 months

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Asmoduas testing new sex toys on reader while taking notes on which one makes them cum the fasts or the hardest

-💅

your darling asmodeus, who got your consent to test his new sex toys, elated and well-occupied with overseeing how his manufactured products made you cum over and over again without getting tired or bored seeing you in this state. of course, he’s the only one who gets to see you this way because it’s only him and fizzarolli that deserve this magnificent view. no one else in hell could see how you’re being so compliant and brain-fucked right now. asmodeus definitely has a lovesick grin on his face as he jots down how the new kaiju-sized dick model made you cum the hardest, and how the vibrating nipple clamps made you cum the fastest. though he has to admit, he does get a bit envious that these toys pull these sweet noises and reactions from you, but it does not matter because he’ll have his way with you as a reward for being so helpful after.

#quenched ໒꒱ thirst #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x you #asmodeus x y/n #asmodeus smut #helluva boss asmodeus #helluva asmodeus #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss x y/n #helluva boss x you #helluva boss smut

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radioapplerevue · 1 month

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See a lot of questions scattered about regarding "Why do people even ship Lucifer or Alastor? They hate each other/Lucifer's married/Alastor's ace etc etc etc." And while I doubt most people are asking in good faith, I figured I'd give my answer anyway! In part because these two in conjunction with each other fascinate me and I want to talk about it.

First off, you have Alastor, this character whose whole shtick is trying to convince everyone around him all the time that he's the most mysterious and most dangerous person around. And... he's not. We know he's not. Hell, he's not even in tier 3 of "dangerous people in Hell." But it's very important to him that he is perceived that way, and he goes to great lengths to manufacture and maintain that image.

Then you have Lucifer, who is the most dangerous person in Hell, power-wise, by far. But he doesn't seem to give a shit about that at all. His power means little to him, he didn't want the throne, he doesn't do anything with this position that Alastor would do everything to have. Lucifer is a deeply broken individual whose only concern is his family, and he's not intimidated by Alastor in any way, and never will be.

So he was pretty much tailor-made for Alastor to hate. This guy who has everything Alastor wants, but doesn't give a shit about having it, who he can't scare. Ever. The only way he can get under Lucifer's skin is by digging into his emotional sore spots, and boy howdy does Lucifer have a lot of those. And here's the fun thing! Or one of the fun things, anyway. Most people, even in Hell, would never dare to try and upset Lucifer. Upset the King of Hell? That's suicide, right?

But Alastor knows it's not, because he sees two things right off the bat: one, Lucifer wouldn't do anything to hurt Charlie, and hurting Alastor would do that -- and two, it's just not in Lucifer's nature to do so. Surprising for the King of Hell, but nonetheless true. Lucifer's a showy guy, but he's not a violent guy -- even against Adam, he only toyed with him until Adam made the mistake of going directly for Charlie a second time. Needless to say, it takes a lot to make Lucifer get violent, and it's unlikely to be anything that only targets himself.

And thus sets the stage for what is already a really fun and interesting dynamic, and one that can become even more so with time. Because these are two characters who treat each other in a way that nobody else can or will. Alastor can poke and prod and peel back Lucifer's scars and peer directly at his insecurities. Lucifer can give as good as he gets and challenge Alastor and there's nothing Alastor can do to scare him off. In short, they can make each other confront things that right now just aren't likely for other people.

I like to think eventually, once they get over the initial "how dare he, this isn't allowed, I hate everything about this" stage, they begin to actually... enjoy it. Enjoy the back and forth, enjoy hitting the ball to each other's court, enjoy having someone around who won't back down. And Lucifer is, at his core, sweet. How unsettling it must be for Alastor, to see this extremely powerful man who is also just. Good. How over ten millennia of pain haven't changed that, even as they crumbled his heart into little pieces.

I think Lucifer would fascinate Alastor. And I think Alastor, with all his idiosyncrasies, and his ballsy manner of never backing down from a challenge, would fascinate Lucifer too. And there are so, so many ways you could go from there. Darker ways, softer ways. But there's so much potential, and I am finding it an absolute blast to explore.

As for the ace thing, hello, hi! I'm aroace. And on the sex repulsed side, even! I shouldn't have to reveal this in order for people to get off my back, but hey, there you have it. Now please stop expecting people to volunteer their sexual orientations just so you can be sure they have the... what? Right? To ship things? I enjoy this ship in all flavors. A lot of people have been taking the time to explore asexuality in their fanworks with Alastor, and it's been a delight to see! But in the end, fandom is a sandbox, and I don't care how you are smashing your dolls together as long as you're having fun. And if seeing them in a particular configuration is uncomfortable for you, there's nothing wrong with that, either... just back out, and move on to things more pleasant.

And goodness, don't go after real actual people in defense of fictional ones.

#radioapple #appleradio #lucifer morningstar #alastor #hazbin hotel

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beardedmrbean · 1 month

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Bad Dragon is suing SinSaint over copyright infringement of their dildo designs. What I want to know is, can you copyright the shape of a dog's dick? Because if you can, you shouldn't be able to.

I did knot need to hear about this one.

one more pun

TSG is gonna be one of the more reputable sources for this one

MARCH 25--A manufacturer of “fantasy-themed sex toys” has accused an upstart Brooklyn, New York firm of knocking off its distinctive designs, according to a federal lawsuit alleging that the defendant has infringed on copyrights for dildos such as “Spritz the Seadragon” and “Tyson the Water Buffalo.”

In a March 20 complaint filed in U.S. District Court in Arizona, Bad Dragon Enterprises contended that its “sculptural” products have been illegally copied by SinSaint, which is headquartered in a Coney Island warehouse and advertises that all its “Ethically Manufactured” toys are “made in Brooklyn, USA.”

Bad Dragon, which noted that it has had “significant commercial success” in the adult toy field, alleged that SinSaint has been selling the duplicative dildos through its website and other trade channels, including the recent AVN Adult Entertainment Expo in Las Vegas (where the new firm’s exhibitor booth was next to that of the all-nude Palomino strip club).

The lawsuit identifies 13 separate dildos that Bad Dragon claims have been copied (and renamed) by SinSaint, which was incorporated in New York last year. The colorful silicone toys feature scales, tentacles, suction cups, and other design elements meant to mimic the genitalia of dragons, sea creatures, and other fantastical characters.

Some of the Bad Dragon products that SinSaint is accused of swiping are “Kelvin the Ice Dragon,” “Stan the T. Rex,” and “Vergil the Drippy Dragon.” SinSaint has not been accused of pirating other Bad Dragon offerings like “Jason the Demogorgon” or “Cuttlefish of Cthulhu.”

According to the lawsuit, SinSaint’s counsel last month stated that the company had begun removing “some of the allegedly infringing listings for product redesign.” This response, Bad Dragon contended, was “unacceptable,” adding that it “continues to be harmed by Defendant’s ongoing, unlawful conduct.”

The Bad Dragon complaint seeks an order enjoining SinSaint from continuing any further alleged

copyright infringement and seeks “disgorgement of all of Defendant’s profits” related to the artificial penises. The company may also seek statutory damages of up to $150,000 for each of the dildos in question.

For more than a decade, Bad Dragon has sought trademark and copyright protection for various product lines. While often successful, the firm’s application to trademark its “Cum Tube” was abandoned after a government attorney rejected the ejaculating dildo because the “applied-for mark consists of or includes immoral or scandalous matter.” The application included a very NSFW image, which can be found on the U. S. Patent and Trademark Office website.

According to an August 2023 trademark application, SinSaint’s owner is Oleg Semenenko, 50, a resident of Brooklyn’s gated Seagate community. Semenenko lives less than a mile from SinSaint’s warehouse, which shares an address with GlobMarble, an industrial molds business for which Semenenko is listed as “manager” in a separate trademark application filed this month.

In a brief interview today, Semenenko was asked how a dildo firm grew out of his original business. “We work with rubber,” he replied. Semenenko dismissed Bad Dragon’s claim that its products were unique and original: “How can octopus hand can be your idea?” (4 pages) ____________________________________________

Hope the judge that did the recent trump case gets this one, even though I know that's basically impossible, just the thought of making him listen to hours of testimony about how these rubber fantasy dildos are protected by copyright or trademark law, or something like that is funny to me.

It's not a revenge thing wanting it, just a keep him humble thing. I know you think you're hot shit now, so here listen to these arguments for a bit.

Totally different note, I'm wondering how long until the discourse starts up, or if it has already started up, where using horse dildos is either bestiality or a gateway to bestiality because what with the way people treat cartoons of fictional people I can't imagine it's far off or not already here.

Look to japan for the tentacle ones.........

#anonymous

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littleplasticrat · 4 months

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Provocation and Planning (Gortash x Tav)

Tav thinks she's charging into Gortash's palace to seduce him, but he's been waiting for her. She still manages to surprise him.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: PIV sex, sex toys, anal fingering, come eating

Thanks to @bearhugsandshrugs for beta reading. You're cool ❤️

The first time Tav and Gortash had kissed, she'd bitten his tongue hard enough to draw blood. He'd instantly retaliated, setting the precedent for things to come.

After the ragtag group had clawed their way onto the docks from the Chionthar, Tav had looked at the archduke and really seen him for the first time. He was bloody and victorious, encased in his golden mechanical armour that did nothing to obscure the length of his limbs. He slicked his wet hair back out of his face and began unbuckling his breastplate when he noticed her looking, and gave her a slow, suggestive smile. His shirt hung open to reveal his hairy chest; he was steaming like a racehorse in the morning sun. Tav knew that she was going to have to fuck him as soon as possible . He must have seen it in her face, and pulled her into a kiss, first sucking her lower lip and then pressing his tongue into her mouth. That was when she'd bitten him.

Whatever it was - the adrenaline, the relief, or the strangely warm memory of the shin kick he'd delivered after she'd punched him in the morphic pool - the effect had been immediate. Gortash had inhaled sharply, then pulled back to dropping butterfly kisses on her mouth. Tav felt the curve of his smile, and then suddenly his quick hands had found a tear in her leather armour and he'd pinched her nipple through her undershirt, hard enough that she let out a strangled moan. Gale, who'd been standing next to them on the dock with a polite if strained smile, had gone bright red and practically sprinted off to Wyll and Karlach.

Read more below the cut or on Ao3. Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear from you.

Under normal circumstances, if a man kissed Tav like that, she knew she was likely about to get dragged away and fucked shortly thereafter. However, as the heroes slowly made their way back to the city centre, Gortash had withdrawn to his palace to launch the cleanup campaign. It became clear to Tav over the course of the day that the emergency measures for Baldur's Gate had been made in meticulous detail and were set up to be ready to implement at a moment's notice. Case in point: as she made her way to the Elfsong Tavern that evening for the celebrations, she saw Steel Watchers with rescue tools instead of their usual heavy weaponry digging through rubble alongside the Fists. Gortash must have been manufacturing the extra parts in secret. She wondered what else he'd prepared.

In anticipation of seeing him, she'd left her underwear in her pack and applied a few dabs of rosemary oil where her blood ran close to the skin. At the tavern, it didn't escape her that gazes lingered upon her, the light touches of her companions' hands guiding her through the smoke and the crowds. When Halsin lent past her to pick up a round of drinks from the bar, she felt him inhale a deep breath of her as his muscles flexed against her back. One huge hand had covered her hip briefly. She thought it might have been the case that the druid, a little drunk and made giddy by all the people, was just trying to steady himself against a reliable friend. But then his hand squeezed and Tav nearly pushed her ass back against him, stopping herself just in time. Later, she went out onto a balcony with Rugan to smoke and laugh with him. The Zhentarim stole glances at her nipples peaking against her blouse when he thought she wasn't paying attention, which made goosebumps ripple across her skin. When she looked back to his face, he would rest his lip against the rim of his tankard and give her a look that was half-innocent, half-debauched. I wonder if being a hero is going to be like this all the time? she thought to herself. It seemed exhausting.

Adding to the slow decline of her mood was the fact that the one smug, handsome bastard she wanted, that she spent the evening scanning the crowds for, did not appear. Hadn’t he felt the sparks of that kiss shoot through his body the way they shot through hers? Or, perhaps, was his duty to the city keeping him in the office? That seemed strangely absurd. As it neared midnight, it became obvious that Lord Gortash definitely wasn't coming. Tav slipped away from the party and made her way to the Palace with efficiency, weaving through the crowds of revellers. At the gates, she'd been expecting to have to explain who she was, or perhaps even break in, but every set of guards let her pass without comment. The ones outside Gortash's chambers even saluted her.

When she entered, she saw a lavish bedroom through double doors which lay ajar at the end of the corridor. The bed was very neat. On either side of the hallway leading to it were a small library, a bathroom, and a combined workshop and office. Gortash was sunk in a battered armchair at a small circular table in the latter room. Looking around the room, Tav saw that his desk, placed so that he could sit with his back to a corner, was piled high with paperwork. Occupying the centre of the freshly-swept floor was a thick, expensive-looking rug. There was a whole wall of drawers and shelves of various sizes, with each labelled in his precise handwriting. On that side of the office were two large workbenches; one was a tidy wooden trestle and one had seemingly been improvised from a sheet of metal and stacks of old documentation. Half-hidden beneath a pile of clothes and rubbish in the corner was a low camp bed, the kind that military recruits would start their careers in. The whole place smelled like pine, with an undertone of male musk, milled steel and oil. Through a nearby window, she could see the city stretching into the distance, half-ruined but surviving another day. Sounds of revelry were carried into the room on the wind.

When Tav came to the door they made eye contact immediately and he showed no surprise; she knew then that he'd been waiting for her. With a lazy hand, Gortash plucked a grape from the dish in front of him and slowly slipped it into his mouth. Tav's eyes followed the movement of his fingers and she had to try hard to keep her face blank as a tingle flitted down her neck. As he leaned back, she noticed he was wearing a raw silk shirt and tight leather trousers, but the lacing on both was slovenly, as usual.

They stared at each other, and Tav felt herself start to blush under the archduke's open gaze. To hide her reaction, she stepped over to his table and picked up the bunch of grapes. She saw Gortash's strong fingers twitch as she swiped the fruit, but he did nothing.

"You missed the party at the Elfsong," Tav said, moving across the room to lean against the windowsill. "Didn't fancy being celebrated with the other heroes of Baldur's Gate? I'm surprised you'd pass on a chance to be fawned over."

Gortash scoffed and crossed his long legs.

"Yes, I had reports you were carousing in that rat hole with your little friends - and I can smell it on you now,” he said, inhaling. “I'll be holding my own celebration here in my palace . You should join me. See how it feels to wield power against the nobility of this city rather than its enemies." He looked her up and down, his eyes half-lidded. "I've been thinking about jewellery designs for you. Something to show off how magnificent you are."

It was Tav's turn to snort. "What about me has given you the impression I want to become some bejewelled whore on your arm?"

"Bejewelled whore… Ha. My dear, no one is immune to the pleasure of being draped in gold and gemstones," Gortash told her as he stood. "Especially not those of us who started life clad in rags." He approached Tav with slow steps and she reclined further against the window frame, holding the grapes out of his reach. "As for the second part... That wasn't a one-sided kiss this morning. Maybe I just want you by my side to keep an eye on you now the city is safe. A woman of your talents - What's the saying?" he asked, maintaining eye contact as he moved into her space, pressing his broad chest against her breasts to reach for the fruit. "Ah, yes. Devils make work for idle hands." She felt his fingers slip the grapes out of her loose grasp. "And-" Gortash's steady, sonorous voice suddenly wobbled off into a groan, and he snaked his other arm around her waist to crush her body against his. "Sweltering hells, Tav, have you come into my office without undergarments?"

She gasped and he rested his forehead against hers, their gazes meeting. She nodded, a blush creeping into her cheeks. The raw lust that pooled in his dark eyes in response made her back prickle with sweat as her nipples hardened against his chest.

"What are you doing to me, Tav? Gods, I need to see you. Take off your clothes. Let me see your body."

Gortash was almost snarling with arousal as he commanded her. Tav sighed at the slow melt of wetness in her cunt and pushed him gently backwards to give herself more space. Expression hungry, he watched her as she slowly undressed. She thought he might seize her when she bared her breasts to the moonlight, but he just swayed, eyes roving over her eagerly. His breathing stopped when she unlaced her trousers and let them slide down; something about his boyish thirst gave her a sudden vision of herself as a noblewoman being seduced by a young Gortash, grateful lordling and ardent worshipper of the powerful. But - there was nothing for him to gain from this, was there? All she had to give him was her body, which was now nearly bare under his glittering eyes. Kicking off her boots completed her strip, and then she was nude, standing there expectantly as she took in his reaction. She could see that there was a bulge in his leathers. Gortash was trying hard to modulate his breathing.

"I'm glad you came here tonight," he said. His voice was gravelly and low. "Tell me, Tav. What do you want?"

Tav felt another knot of insecurity inside her as she recognised her desire for him. What if he just saw this as a minor distraction? She decided to fall back and hide behind her old tricks. "I think you know," she replied in her best sultry tone, trailing a hand down between her breasts. “I want you to have sex with me.”

He moved into her space again, leaning one hand against the window frame above her. “If you wanted to fuck, you could have stayed in Elfsong Tavern. I saw the way some of them were looking at you this morning. And I’ve had several grateful and eager members of the aristocracy calling on me throughout the day, but I’ll be damned: all I could think about was you.” With the other hand, he lifted the bunch of grapes to his face and nuzzled his nose amongst the sweet, purple beads of the fruit. "So, I’ll ask again. What do you want?" Eyes boring into hers, he plucked a grape from its stalk with his teeth.

It was ridiculous, but also the horniest thing Tav had ever seen. Something about his confession and the boldness of his flirting opened something within her heart: In a breathy voice, almost a moan and nothing like the falsely seductive tone she’d just used, she said, "I want to have you and I want you to know me. I want to teach you what it sounds like when I come wrapped around your cock." Gortash pressed his eyes shut at this, and she heard a squelch as he crushed the entire bunch of grapes in his broad fist, their juices weeping to the floor. And then his lips were on hers.

They were both soon gasping into each other's mouths, their kisses wet and lavish. Gortash was clasping her face in his hands, pulling her hair, digging his fingers into her hips and squeezing her ass, almost in a frenzy. Under his onslaught, she was barely able to pull his shirt laces open. He broke their kiss to bite her neck and take fistfuls of her tits and inhale deeply from her cleavage, groaning as he did so.

"I thought - ah! I thought I stunk of carousing and revelry?" Tav said, trying to strike a mocking tone in her voice as her head fell back; Gortash had just begun to swirl her nipple in his mouth, his tongue firm and hot.

In response, he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Carrying her over to his wooden workbench, he perched her on the pitted but clean surface. "While you do smell like a tavern whore, I never said I didn't like it," he groaned, then slowly licked a stripe up her neck and to the side of her face. He finished the trail with a kiss that was almost affectionate, punctuating this with a thrust of his hips so the bulge in his trousers pressed against her clit.

They looked at each other in open admiration. But the moment was cut short when he reached past her and picked up a small metal cylinder, about the width of his thumb, from the bench. Holding it up, she could see a small piece of leather attached to it – a strap. Gortash used it to slip the strange device onto her index finger.

"I made this for you today," he said softly.

She tried to hide her confusion then. Was he - was he proposing to her? With a weird leather ring?

She was soon proven wrong when, with one hand, Gortash pushed one of her thighs to the side to expose her folds. With the other, he took her hand and guided it downwards, placing her finger so it rested on her clit. His hand flowered briefly with magic and he muttered something. Tav yelped as the item began vibrating against her, a noise which morphed into a moan.

Gortash dropped kisses to her lips and whispered encouragement as he pushed against her hand, pressing the vibrator further into her folds. The sensations were unusual at first, but it began to feel incredible. She felt her cunt throb, get more slick.

Tav whimpered when he stepped out of her arms, giving her one more kiss before pulling out a chair so he was sitting in front of her. His eyes lingered on her face, although he observed the movements of her hand against her clit with a mixture of hunger and cold calculation.

In between gasps, Tav said, "I think it's... It's only fair that you show - me how you find your own pleasure."

Gortash smirked at her and began unlacing his trousers. His cock jumped free quickly - it seemed she hadn't been the only one to skip putting on underwear that evening - and he began stroking himself, leaning back in the chair. His cock curved enough to arch against his stomach and Tav couldn't help but admire the girth of it. She propped one foot up on the workbench to expose herself further. The sensation of dipping the vibrator into her slickness and bringing it back to her clit drew a new sound of pleasure from her that had Gortash moaning in response and speeding his hand up. She felt her juices begin to dribble down to her asshole. The archduke noticed too.

"I knew you were going to act like a slut for me," he told her, his voice hoarse. "But you've got the wettest cunt I've ever seen. Are you going to come on my desk? If you do, I'll make you lick it clean."

The filth of Gortash's idle threat made Tav flutter against her fingers. She was nearing the edge. Instead of pursuing her climax, she stretched her leg out to push Gortash's cock out of his hand with her foot. He gave her a grin as she pressed his shaft against his stomach.

"C'mere," she said. "I want to come on your mouth."

He closed his eyes delightedly and slid off the chair to kneel in front of her. She started moving her finger again as he parted her folds and thrust his tongue into her body. One of Gortash's hands was busy out of sight; he was touching himself as he ate her out. Tav felt the heat creep up then, her body tensing, quivering, vision going white or- or-

Her orgasm rippled through her and she cried out. Gortash dug his fingers into her thighs and pushed his face against her center. She felt him shuddering and he groaned into her cunt as his climax followed hers.

They stayed like that for a peaceful moment as their heart rates returned to normal. Tav had lifted the vibrator away from herself and Gortash uttered the word that made it stop running. She removed it from her hand and then stroked his hair as he nuzzled at her folds slowly, still enjoying the wetness her body had made for him. After some time, Tav pulled the man off her and stood up on shaky legs.

On the floor beneath where the archduke had been kneeling, she saw a wet gleam. Had she done that? Bending over to look closer, she saw that it was Gortash's spend. She turned to him and saw the heat still roiling behind his eyes as he looked back at her.

"My Lord," she said sweetly. "It appears one of us did make a mess. It wasn't me, though, was it?"

He shook his head.

"And what did you say should happen if I came on your desk?"

Gortash remained silent. Tav slid her fingers into his hair and gripped gently. "Say it."

"I said I would make you lick it clean."

Tav smiled then, and leaned closer. "When we first met, you said we would be equals, my Lord. My understanding was that if I joined you in an alliance, we would have parity in all things... Including what we're expected to follow through on. L ick ."

With that, she pushed his head towards the floor. He gave her a furtive look of adoration as he went down, filling her with a new flush of nameless excitement. His face neared the paving stone beneath the bench and she watched, her heart flickering with shock, as he used the tip of his tongue to daintily taste his mess. Her fingers remained in his thick hair as he bent lower to take a bolder lick, leaving a trail of spit on the stone. His eyes slid to hers, and he cleaned another stripe of cum off the floor. Something about his expression told her that she was in trouble, but it was too late; he'd already surged up and driven her to her knees. Squeezing her chin in one hand, he gave her a brief, searching look. He must have seen the excitement fizzling within her, because he nodded briefly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, and straightened. His cock, soft but slowly hardening, was at her eye level.

"Here's a lesson I'd like to share about co-leadership then. It's all about coming to an agreement. I put it to you that you've been trying to provoke me to fuck you like a whore." As he spoke, Gortash was wrapping Tav's hair around his fist. "Tonight, I would have made love to you so tenderly - until you swooned. But I think we can both agree that that's not what you want, is it? Is it, you slut?" With his last question, he gave her a little shake.

"It's not what I want, my Lord."

"Do you want the privilege of coming on my cock?"

The thrill, the sheer smuttiness of him, left Tav gasping. She had to swallow hard and get control of herself before she could reply, "Yes, my Lord."

With that, he pulled her by her hair to the centre of the room and threw her down on the extravagant rug. She moaned as she hit the floor. His cock bobbed hard as he stripped off his clothes, revealing a lean, muscular body, dark hair foresting his chest and his taut stomach.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered, and Tav scrambled to comply. She felt him kneel behind her, then slowly begin to rub the head of his cock between her folds. She wiggled her hips in frustration, trying to tempt him into taking her.

"You're still so wet," Gortash muttered, pressing the end of the tip in, then pulling it back out before it brought Tav any stimulation.

She looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm so turned on for you. Please - "

His smirk caught her gaze before he pushed her down roughly, her face turned flat against the rug.

"Touch yourself, but don't come until I tell you to."

She sighed as he began to bully his thick cock inside her, the press of it against her walls driving her to moan and then howl as he pushed himself in to the hilt. It was so deep . In this position, with his size -

Any marvelling thought she had was cut off by the electric snap of her nerves as he pulled out and thrust in again. She heard her name on his lips as he reached down and gathered a fistful of her hair. It was amazing how he groaned for her. He began fucking into her in a steady rhythm, her hips rolling back to meet him as they both made unabandoned noises of pleasure, losing themselves in it. Tav's nipples grazed the rug every time his thrusts pushed her forwards, making the nerve endings in her upper body sing. Her fingers rubbed her clit in a frantic motion that made her whole cunt quiver.

"Your ass - It's perfect," she heard Gortash gasp. "In fact-"

Tav was in no state to understand. She felt Gortash's thumb against the seam between his cock and her cunt as he ran it through her folds, gathering up the juices of their sex. Then, the pad of his thumb was rubbing against her asshole and then slipping in. The blunt pleasurepain of her ring being breached made her moan loudly, her core beginning to tense. With one hand on her hip and the other splayed across her flank, he pumped his thumb in and out of her. The steady roll of his cock drove her to hoarse cries; feeling her cunt tighten as she neared her climax, Gortash gave a triumphant laugh that turned into a moan of his own ecstasy.

"Come for me," he commanded. Tav bucked beneath him, pressing her face into the carpet to muffle her scream as she rode the waves of wet pleasure that seared through her, white-hot lightning wrapped in the velvet of her veins, turning her inside out from the soles of her feet to her scalp. She felt Gortash's cock throbbing inside her as he followed.

As she tried to slow down her breathing, Tav felt a strong arm wrap around her waist. Gortash pulled her upwards so her back was against his chest, then rolled them both onto their sides on the rug - which Tav distantly realised was spotless and smelled freshly cleaned. In her blissed out state, she decided not to worry about it. The archduke tucked his other arm under her head. His cock lingered inside her, and lying on her side squeezed it within her, making her twitch slowly. Her fires were calm for now, but the sensation of this intimacy would surely start to heat her up again. The evening wasn't finished, of course - and who said she had to go back to the Elfsong the moment the sun rose?

They lay still for a while. Tav enjoyed the sound of Gortash breathing steadily against her neck. Eventually, her leg twitched and she realised she'd been falling asleep. Nuzzling her, he brought his lips to her ear.

"Shall we move to the bedroom, my dear?"

She nodded and they helped each other stand up. Taking her by the hand, he led her into the lavish bedroom she'd seen when she'd entered. He pulled the bedsheets back for her and tucked her in; a gesture that was surprisingly sweet - or was it really that surprising? Beginning to drift, she counted the ways he’d prepared for her arrival that evening. The guards had even saluted her...

"What do you want to eat for breakfast?" he asked, stroking her sweaty hair off her forehead.

"Your cock," she mumbled. Gortash chuckled and Tav smiled sleepily.

"That's a deal."

Tav was already drifting off again as Gortash climbed into bed next to her and pulled her to his chest.

#gortash #enver gortash #lord enver gortash #gortash x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #gort is such a fucking dork #i can't believe he got a clean rug out so he could fuck tav on the floor in comfort #my writing

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rjcoltd · 1 year

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I am happy 🤗 on Valentine's Day received "gifts" from our hard-working designer Bruce Mishell (an American living in Hong Kong, R & D Director of RJ CO., LTD.) as he shared me with two print screen images on his working computer~

Original Design from RJ CO LTD (Hong Kong)

#American #Original #Designer #ID #Industrial #Design #RJCOLTD #HK #adult novelty #adult vibration novelty #wholesale sex toys #sex toys oem manufacturer #rj co ltd (hong kong)#adult novelty and lingerie fashion and health amazon online best seller

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frillyfacefins · 8 months

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So the only time before now that I was really involved in the Helluva Boss fandom was right after the Ozzie's episode, and people were absolutely disecting EVERY frame of that episode, and then later, same with The Circus

So a lot of things that apparently didn't get confirmed before Oops were just canon in my head? 😂

I mean, the fire, Blitz being responsible for the fire, Tilla dying in the fire, Blitz' injuries, Fizz' injuries (inkl his skin being burn scars, not make up), Fizz' lack of horns, Ozzie (who we knew ran the robo fizz factory) building/taking care of Fizz' prosthetics, Ozzie manufacturing sex toys, the two of them living together....

I s2g I didn't remember that these things were not canon before s2ep6

#Fizz fans are wonderful extremely perceptive people who go HARD with the analysis #helluva boss fizzarolli #Fizzarolli #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss Ozzie #fizzarozzie #asmodeus x fizzarolli #fizzmodeus #If we get incontinent fizz or intersex fizz somebody out there will get to yell bingo

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lullabyes22-blog · 11 months

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Silco Headcanons - NSFW🦈💕💀

Dating Silco headcanons🦈💕💀

Dating Sevika headcanons🐉💕

Jinx Headcanons💣

Mel Headcanons 🦊

Sevika Headcanons 🐉

Silco Headcanons Part I and II 🦈

Heavy NSFW - Dirty talk, bondage, sadism, mind-games, general awfulness

Some men are patterned lovers: a certain way of touching, kissing, fucking, with only minor variations. They know what they like, what they're good at, and rarely venture off the beaten track.

Silco is not one of them.

Despite his outward veneer of control, the bastard thrives on unpredictability. He's also got a taste for exploring the taboo and pushing both social and psychological boundaries. Definitely one of those people who believes in leaving both morality and political correctness at the bedroom door.

If you’re in the bedroom at all.

The downside to this attitude is a restless boredom once routine sets in. It also means that he discards his partners (playthings) without batting an eyelid, and is always on the prowl for more stimulation.

Sex for his younger self was once a form of intimacy and connection-building. For his older self, it's a means of ownership and an insidious tool of control. Think of how a mermaid's song lures you deeper into the waters. Then the waves fill your head, your eyes, your lungs, and swallow you inside-out.

That's sex with Silco in a nutshell.

Abandon sense, all ye who enter.

He initiates the way he does everything else.

Talking.

He has no preferred pattern: it can be anything from banter to argument to insults. In each case, the aim is singular. It's meant to destabilize you - and make your whole body pay attention.

In the middle of a businesslike discussion in his office, you might feel a cool skim of fingertips on along your thigh and the dark chill of a whisper in your ear: "Since my lunch is late, I'll just have to feast on you. And what better place than on my desk?"

Or in the middle of an argument, he might seize you by the nape of your neck, corner you against the wall, and hiss, "Let's see if that mouth is good for more than backtalk. Get on your knees. Now."

Or bent over his knee, your legs dangling and the blood rushing to your head as his hand moves languidly over your welted ass, he'll murmur, "I can't decide what's the prettier sight. You, choking down tears. Or choking down my cock."

His verbal play is always aimed squarely at what's between your ears - because that's the fastest feedback loop to sparking what's between your legs. He's also practiced at tailoring his approach depending on who he's with, what they respond to, and what he wants from them.

On a dime he can be courteous or crude. Patient or possessive. Tender or terrifying.

For instance, he might notice your fondness for family anecdotes and accurately deduce that your walls come down when transported back to the idyllic era of childhood. He’ll engineer a situation where you feel like an innocent again, and trust him wholeheartedly… all the better to inveigle his way into your pants.

Or he might notice you're ultra prudish, and have a ramrod’s need to be in control - only to put you in a situation where you're utterly at his mercy, thereby stripping away both your inhibition and resistance, so he becomes your sole anchor to sanity.

Or he'll observe you have an innate desire to help others, then manufacture a façade where he's the needy one, and confess how you are indispensable to him, and must help him with X or Y. All the better to stoke your ego and lure you into his web.

The aim of each strategy is sexual. But it's the same approach he employs in the boardroom, in the back-alleys, and in the streets. He preys on what people want, and convinces them he's the door to what they desire: transgression, freedom, strength, salvation etc.

In terms of foreplay, it's as colorfully varied as everything else he enjoys.

With his tarts and toys, he's purely into self-gratification. After all, he's shelled out coin for it - and expects his money's worth. In those settings, he's rough and straightforward - very much, Wham-bam-there's-your-tip-my-crew-will-see-you-out. Even his conversation is tersely monosyllabic: "Strip, kneel, suck, there, harder, fuck, take it, come."

With a fun fling, he's much more wryly accommodating, albeit still calling the shots. But he will go through the dance of give-and-take, and take an interest in what gets his partner hot. "If you'd like me to stop, do share. If you'd like more-" A crooked little smile. "Beg."

With a partner he actually cares about (!?), the foreplay is in motion from the moment he's in your company. He'll be much more attuned to moods, receptive to body language, and softer in his overall approach. During the act itself, expect spontaneous generosity and lots of patience. Even his wordplay will be different - almost reassuringly simple. "Sssh. Take all the time in the world. I'm right here."

Re: penetrative sex - once again, it varies. On the whole, he prefers it rough, and enjoys a little pain mixed in with the pleasure: giving or receiving. His affinity for water also comes out in his rhythm: languid or brutal, a rolling tide or a punishing tempest, depending on his mood.

The man has a black cauldron of rage bubbling inside, and has spent a good decade microdosing on Shimmer.

Suffice it to say: there's some serious snap in those hips.

With his tarts, he's all about chasing his own high: just a good hard dicking until he's shot his wad. No real banter: just a sensory instruction-manual of grunts and gasps: "Take it", "Move your arse", and "So fucking good".

With a fling, he's attentive, but keeps a check on his libido, a corner of his mind always focused on observation, leverage - and that perpetual edge of mockery. At certain points, he'll slow down or stop altogether right when the going gets good. When his partner starts bucking or clenching to maintain friction, he'll chuckle "Eager, are we? Where's the rush?" and continue the grinding torture until they're a quivering wreck - right before he pounds them into jelly.

With a lover he's fond of, he'll tend to switch it up, depending on his mood and their desires. At times, he'll be so dreamlike as to verge on doting. Plenty of smooth, deep, languid strokes and praise practically spoonfed like dark honey into the ear. "Ssh. Let me take care of it, petal. Just let go." Other times he will pin them facedown into the sheets and absolutely wreck them - as much for his pleasure as theirs. "Mine. Only me. You belong to me."

In all cases, he is unapologetic in what he wants, and can be a demanding beast - especially if you're being coy.

"Want more?" he'll whisper, right before he slaps your ass red. "Beg for it."

He's flexible in terms of positions. His favorite is doggy-style. It lets him control the pace, leaves his hands free to roam, and to see his partner's expressions if there's a mirror ahead. The view of your ass is a fetching bonus.

Preferred orifices: down the throat or up the ass. Less mess afterward, and more peace of mind.

Fundamentally, he enjoys pushing limits - both his own and his bedmates. It's less about the act itself, more the visceral honesty it evokes. He's also got a range of kinks. Bondage, blindfolds, and edgeplay are a given. But he equally enjoys voyeurism, choking, sensory deprivation, impact/knife and temperature play - as well as multiple partners.

In fact, his favorite game is to push two playthings together, then step back to savor the fireworks: at once the spectator and the master of ceremonies.

As for oral, he's a devotee to both sides of the coin. He likes suckjobs - a lot - and takes them with an attitude of idle entitlement. One moment his fingers will be playing with your hair, the next he'll coax you to kneel right under his desk. "Mmm, that's it, sweet. Harder. Like that. All the way down."

He also likes giving suckjobs. He's patient, canny, and has a filthy tongue. He enjoys edging his partners, and has a cruel streak for orgasm denial. It's as if he has a vested interest in making you beg, even when he's the one on his knees. "What's that, tartlet? You want to come? Hmm. I don't know. I quite like the view." A hand caressing your face - right before he hooks a couple fingers into your mouth. "Now be quiet. You're not finished until I am."

To summarize, Silco is a psychological sadist. His aim is to deconstruct your mind, and decouple your defenses. Sex is less a way to assert power so much as a way to demonstrate its fluidity. It's also a form of violence - whether it's a palm circling your throat or a voice husking commands in your ear.

If you want him as a lover, you should come armed with an attitude of unshakeable self-confidence. He's never met anyone he couldn't bend to his will, but there's nothing more attractive to him than a strong-willed playmate. He's also attracted to partners with a smart attitude and a stubborn streak of independence. Be prepared for him to bait you to the breaking point. Beware that once he's got you vulnerable, he'll have you so convinced he's all you need that you'll beg him to keep you.

And be forewarned:

“Like everything in Zaun, nothing comes without a price.”

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #silco headcanons #silco headcanon #silco x reader #fanfic #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo

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