AC Before You Go. the name was inspired by A Parting Word from Hekate's Call and the whole point is close range and constant pressure. the left-hand weapon has a charge attack that does almost as damage as a pile bunker and I call it my little hole puncher

girls love running straight into my charged pilebunkers. its like sex really

Motya's log, Operation: Retriever, T-plus twenty two hours. What nobody ever tells you about quadmechs is the way the cockpit's oriented. I hadn't thought about it before, I thought when the mech was on all fours, the pilot'd be sitting upright facing the front of the mech. But, that's wrong.

I need someone to hold me at gun point so I can actually sit down and write the things I want to write

Ancyor ver. (Eri)Ka /j Now THIS one is for the Sartha Thraces out there! I hope what I cooked is good enough for you (y'all?) From #WARHOUND by @kallidorarho.bsky.social (sorry for the tags lately TvT. Also tysm for the color suggestion!) #Mechsploitation #MiniaturePainting #Plamo #Mecha

star wars wouldve been better if anakin and palpatine were women. you know where im going with this

the versatility of those open muzzles seem very fun to me idk

I state with no ego or ulterior motive: I have no sexual interest in most of you, but a profound understanding that if the opportunity to beat many of you within an inch of your life were to arise, I'd do it without a second thought.

they should read it its very very good

my favorite pass time is pissing off beautiful women until they try their hardest to kill me

intermission . i love my friends . they're so good at this . i miss the stage . but to support them fills me with love <3

I didn't really want to pose these bc I think I don't really pull off the Handler look in 3xl pants and a loose fitting button up but whaaaateeeeever

The collection must grow; I want more nudes. I see all you cute little things in my orbit, prospective supplicants ripe for the picking. You want a chance to ingratiate yourself with your Goddess, don't you? Here's what's going to happen: you will reach out, and offer your body to me.

Femslash February 2026, END - OC/OC #nsfwcomm #brart

Slavegirl pussy 😵‍💫

Something I've realized about being a dominant: Those depraved fantasies that have always plagued my mind, they do not need to stay fantasies. You there, aspiring domme: I am living your fantasy life. I wrought it with naught but my indomitable will and my own two hands.

dropping a squad of combat dolls out of a C-130 right into the middle of an enemy base (they don't get parachutes (they will survive just fine))

I don't think anyone realizes just how hentai-brained the Tyrant is. My lust is not beholden to your consent, nor to the paltry laws of physics. You think I'm stopping at the cervix? Shut the fuck up. Put your hand on your stomach, doll. Feel that? Feel the way your guts rearrange around me?

So, take your time. Keep your heart open. And be patient. Earning Domination is a lot like earning Submission in that all you can really do is keep trying to communicate and reach out until you find someone who just... *clicks*. Someone who changes everything. Then it's magical. I love kink ❤️

My Domination was finally earned by someone who truly believed it was worth earning, despite all my hangups and my traumas and my failure to heal. It took love. It took trust. It took patience. It took understanding. And it took a lot of time. But I'm happy that it's been earned.

Let's all get worse, okay? 😘

"tgirl tops will bring you to a room like this" and it's a photograph of a poor woman's room and the joke is that we think it's funny she's poor

rapebait masowhore victim toy

having it be held up by just the collar would be pretty uncomfortable, but it would be pretty easy to modify to be attached to a harness as a secondary point below it. Instead of just the attached collar you could also have a simple strap so you can attach it any collar for better comfort

also wow this picture on their website is making me feel things @~@

I wanted to take this opportunity to do something a little different and talk about Sartha. Specifically why I think I find the tragedy of her character so particularly awful. [thread contains a mixture of analysis and memes. Contains general WARHOUND spoilers, but no HELLHOUND spoilers] 1/19

Professional OPFOR company of washed up mech jocks hired to be Red Team for training missions is caught in a real life crossfire when the planet that hired them for a war game is attacked! Now they're the only 'force' standing between a crack company of invaders and the local civilian population!

Wow Seven Mech Pilots is my favorite film-

everyone look at my beautiful gorgeous girlfriend

So I guess just, remember how important these rituals are. Remember how important being muzzled or being collared is for everyone involved. It's a two-way street, and it's so so so intimate. It's trust and love and oppenness that so many people just dont get to experience. God, I love kink. ❤️

There's a beauty in surrendering. In being collared, in being muzzled, in being Kept. There's a certain magic to someone looking at you and saying "you don't need to be a human for a little while - you can just be yourself" and that's a magic that I live for. Those moments are so, so precious to me.

thanks! have a nice d- *remembers that i hate everyone and im evil* i’m going to kill you now

Not enough leather perverts understand and appreciate how weird the early Soviet Union was about leather. It was widely perceived as a revolutionary aesthetic and often favoured by both senior figures and the Cheka - hence photos like this that look like they could be from a gay bar leather night

I've been thinking a lot lately about a submissive that is genuinely no more than a sex toy - not a person treated like a sex toy, not even an emotionless android programmed for pleasure - truly just... An object. Maybe it had a soul once. Maybe it would've decried this treatment. I don't care.

I was asked to do it with the Handler-style broomhandle pistol so here you go you sickos ❤️ Even did it in leather gloves for you.

the sound of cocking a gun might be one of the most erotic noises possible

Wardog. Tomorrow.

but have you considered that the Dark Queen of Supreme Murderviolence actually gives her transgender soldiers access to hormones? surely you can’t say everyone who serves her is evil…

Muzzle Scars

Okay but one of the most intimate service sub things I've ever done is hold Master's plate for Her while She's eating. She gets to sit comfortably wherever She wants, facing me. I kneel in front of Her, facing Her. Then I hold the plate up with both hands from the bottom while She eats. Romantic!

Oh, you're in her DMs? She's stalking me through the woods after releasing me, knowing she'll catch me all again, just to break my mind more and more for her whims. We are not the same.

After beating mutt for quite a length of time. We left it alone in the basement. Left with a little space heater, a dog bowl of drugged water, and the flashing light of a water heater to shine light on the pitch black basement. Until about 30 minutes in when I slipped away from everyone upstairs..

I don't fucking care if it's embarrassing. I don't fucking care if you don't want everyone to know. I don't fucking care if you think it's too weird. You WANT me to relentlessly tease you about it Mommy knows best and she's telling you to get on your knees and beg for it.

i want to be kept as a trophy by someone better than me. a once-useful once-capable tool, reduced to nothing but a pretty little reward to be utilized

In those black voids, you find nothing. Not mercy, not reason, not purpose, only the lack of it all. It is the wild incarnate, it is the outstretched hand of disorder. They are the lionblood champion, the hoof of the wanderer and the claw of the kingdomless. They are Salem, Warrior-King.

Where order once rose from chaos, the untamed now returns to its rightful throne. Thick, black blood spills onto the patchwork armor and heavy furs adorning your conqueror—no, your ravager. Life's final gift to you is a single glimpse into the vengeful eyes of the beast.

Not a single fiber of a single muscle in your body can so much as twitch before the monster's serrated claws wrap around your throat. Its chest heaves with unbridled rage, bloodlust riding on its hot breath, as your cartilage and sinew twist and tear beneath the weight of its hatred.

At last, it comes for you. The embroidered fabric of your camp tent is swept aside by a long, blood-tinged blade. The hunched, muscular figure that passes into your domain belongs to neither man nor woman; it is a predator of vile legend, spoken of only in hushed tones and mournful prayers.

You hide away in your tent with bated breath, clutching the rough, gold-hewn hilt of your family's heirloom shortsword to your chest. The last of your soldiers, loyal to their dying breaths, fall to the sickly, unceremonious death that rises like the tide to cull the herd.

It starts at it always has: a skull, picked clean of its flesh til the crimson sheen of fresh gore gives way to the matte white of old bone, rolls from the treeline into view of the watchmen. The low howl of an alarm-warhorn resounds through your encampment for but a moment before it is silenced.