Author: wonderful-vices

[MF] Depths – noncon, sadism, semi-public, degradation, breathplay, violence

The pool’s always empty when Hallie gets there – it’s one of the advantages of coming to train at the very earliest or very latest time slots. She doesn’t mind other people, sure, but screaming kids or splashing seniors don’t really make great background noise when she needs to focus hard on her speed and technique. She’s lucky her building has a pool; few in the area do, but it was one of the most important factors when she picked her apartment. It’s not the fanciest facility, but she doesn’t need it to be, not really. She just needs the water and some space.

She’s been at it for an hour when she notices. It’s so easy to get lost in the rhythm of swimming laps that she usually spaces out or becomes entirely unaware of anything that isn’t her muscles and breath. But as soon as it registers that there’s someone sitting on the side of the pool, it nags at the edges of her awareness even as she tries to ignore it. Read more »

Bleed [non/dubcon, vampire, blood, mindbreak]

The thing doesn’t bleed – that’s Gabriela’s first clue – no matter how hard she claws and tears at it. And it is a thing, she quickly realises, and not a man as she’d initially thought. It looks like one, moves like one, whispers like one, but when she manages to drag her nails down its arm, it’s cool to the touch and completely bloodless. She’s never held much interest or belief in anything supernatural, but now the only two thoughts that she can comprehend through her panic are ‘NOT HUMAN’ and ‘GET AWAY’.

Whatever it is that found her in the dark is not anything familiar.

It’s pinning her to the ground, hard packed dirt beneath her and a hard body above, crushing her into the earth with what feels like muscles of stone. Pure strength, more than she could ever hope to attain, let alone overpower.

“Calm down,” it urges, voice low and hypnotic, infused with something that makes her shudder and shiver in equal measure. “You’ll like it soon enough, sweet thing.”

And before she can even begin to protest or cry for help, it’s at her neck, faster than she can blink. And then teeth – needlelike and ice cold teeth – sink into her neck. Read more »

Necessity – [noncon, breeding/impregnation, dystopia – fiction]

The girl was brought in from the wasteland – one of the first they’d found in the past few years. Cal had to admit, her story was impressive from what they gleaned for her file. Most people didn’t last a year without a safe camp or community, and she’d survived three, apparently all on her own. She’d done well too. The ones they saved were usually half dead from starvation, infection, viruses, injuries, but she was largely healthy; underweight, sure, and a bit malnourished, but she’d obviously done a lot better for herself out there than the others. Cal had been in the village since the beginning, seen the hundreds of people brought in half dead (seen the hundreds brought in all the way dead). He wasn’t a doctor, but his job kept him in the medical wing pretty much all the time. It was small enough that the stretchers were wheeled past his offices whenever someone was brought in or out. Really, it was practically a miracle that the new girl had all four limbs attached and would get to keep them. Read more »

Trial [rape/noncon, gangbang, rough – fiction]

There are a lot of ways to test a witch.

They come for her at night. Clem wakes up with a scream on her lips and hands all over her body, dragging her out of her bed and into the streets outside. She kicks and thrashes, but the men holding her – and she recognises them all, Judd Aker and Hann Fare and Larkin Bryche, neighbours and acquaintances – they’re all bigger and stronger and angrier than she has ever been. It’s cold out in the night, or at least the air is. Because heat presses in from every direction, from hot skin grasping her and the men’s torches. All Clem can do is gasp and stammer ineffectual protests, wincing as her bare feet scrape along the dirt and cobbles. Her dark hair is tangled, hanging over her face, but she can’t push it away with both arms held in bruising grips.

If she survives this, she’ll bear the marks for weeks. But the chances of that, she knows, as much as she dreads it, are low. Because it’s not hard to figure out why this is happening, and what she is about to face. Read more »