km098
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Kyle hunkered down on the seat of the bus, trying not to squirm too much since it tugged on the buckles clipped to the leather belt locked around his waist.
It was one of the only things actually keeping him on the bus.
He knew where the bus was taking him.
His boyfriend had enrolled him in the institution. What made Kyle the most anxious was how flexible the curriculum was. The firm’s site boasted that each enrollment was specifically catered to each patient, and that a recovery plan was built up from each person’s needs. There was no set time that Kyle would be locked away, counting down the days until he was free again.
He wouldn’t know how long he’d be attending Woods until he arrived and was evaluated.
Series
- Part 2 of forced orgasm
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From Man of the House to Cuckolding Mutt by I_hate_picking_usernames1234
Fandoms: Original Work
21 Sep 2025
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Kyle goes secretly jerks off while his wife is getting fucked right next to him. He wakes up to find out that the bull has locked his cock up.
"Cuckolds don't need to be cumming. You're not doing any work to deserve it."
It all goes downhill from there.
Bookmarked by km098
22 Sep 2025
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On a person’s 18th birthday, they received an official government evaluation, consisting of a lengthy interview and multiple conversations with trained therapists to designate them into one of many social categories. The first main distinction was whether or not an individual was a Dom or a sub.
Either distinction was labeled on your ID, and it was generally understood that Doms required regular sessions of control and power play, while subs needed stimulation and a corrective eye.
From there, if a Dom wanted, they could be evaluated to be categorized even more specifically--sadist, caregiver, leather and rubber categories, pet owner--the list went on. A Dom could seek out an evaluation on their own, at any point, and could then be evaluated again if they wished to add or remove any label on their ID if they wanted.
A sub didn’t have that freedom.
Series
- Part 1 of diagnosis universe
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Jackson Morrow had thought his life would be over when he had gotten his first diagnosis.
He dreaded all the usual worsts. He already knew in his gut he was a sub--jerking off to audios of deep-voiced studs telling him how pathetic he was wasn’t the best indicator of Dom tendencies--and Jackson had made peace with that a long time ago.
The other, more involved diagnoses made his stomach twist into knots.
Any version of rubber or latex sub would be difficult, not to mention Jackson would sweat himself into a puddle with the hot California weather. He didn’t think he would qualify for any pet designation or animal screening--but the prospect of it still made him nervous.
The outcome of a formal evaluation could result in anything.
Being medically labeled as a brat was . . . not expected.
Series
- Part 2 of diagnosis universe
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“Here he was, restrained, face down and ass up, gagged with soft silk on a white, sterile table. Holdren stepped in to get to work.“
Holdren ‘teaches’ a Railroad Sole Survivor what control looks like.
Bookmarked by km098
18 Sep 2025