Why Do We Have To Tip Toe Around Minors? It's The Internet, We Can't Police What Kids Are Going To Stumble

why do we have to tip toe around minors? it's the internet, we can't police what kids are going to stumble upon. they should learn better internet safety or figure out that they don't like nsfw and move on

I saw this and was like “do I even reply” because this take is so incredibly headass and stupid that it feels like bait. However, I figured I could use this shitty ask to explain why I take keeping nsfw out of mixed age spaces so seriously.

The reason allowing nsfw material in mixed age spaces is dangerous is because it makes it very easy for minors to be groomed & assaulted. And even if they aren’t, many people realize later that having those lines blurred fucked them up pretty bad.

Minors do not have fully developed brains, and the lack of development is in areas like the prefrontal cortex, specifically things to do with impulse control and future planning - all of the very important things to being able to give informed consent. Given that, they can easily fall into agreeing with things that they later regret (this happens all the time on a less severe scale). Thus, it falls more on the adults they interact with to ensure they draw good, clear boundaries and teach minors what is and is not okay for adults in their life to do.

Saying “just learn better internet safety” means nothing because kids aren’t taught anything meaningful in school, and plenty of adults pretend like you’re supposed to materialize the knowledge of internet safety online. If nobody teaches them, how are they supposed to know what is and is not safe?

This is the absolute bare minimum to do, and I really do mean that. It costs $0 to not talk about porn where kids can see, and to tell kids “hey don’t let adults talk about porn to you” or other adults “hey don’t talk about porn around kids.” Nobody is asking you to adopt them, and as an adult your boundaries around kids should include “don’t talk about porn to me” anyways.

So I am sorry me asking the bare minimum to keep kids safe makes you feel like you have to “tip toe” but uh if you can’t be fucked to do it maybe just... don’t be around minors online. And also block me, because I don’t wanna be around you either

I offer no resistance to the pressure of his index finger on the back of my skull as it guides my head, pressing my face into his tongue. The softness of the muscle rises and molds itself around my face’s contours, the texture of his tastebuds registering on my cheeks. I try to tilt my head up in the hopes of looking ahead of me, but he feels my tiny struggles and a slight increase in pressure is all it takes to quell my movements completely. His breath, warm as dryer exhaust, hangs heavy in the air as it tumbles out over my back, the liquid heat of it seeping into my skin, and I can’t help but give in. Blind, I focus on the pure sensations. His finger slides my head forward, my torso following. He lets the tip of his tongue gently explore my chest, even the tiniest twitches on his part nudging my entire body around. I feel the ambient temperature around me climb as his tongue shifts under me, lifting me and pulling me into his mouth. I finally manage to pick up my head, only for his lips to close silently behind me. The edges of his teeth brush my calves as a slight suction pulls me in past his jaws and I find what little weight I have fully supported by his tongue. Just when I get the smallest semblance of my bearings back, shakily rising to my hands and knees on the subtly shifting muscle below me, he flattens his tongue, cups it around my form, and scoops me forwards, making me faceplant into its supple surface once again. I concede for good this time, going limp and letting myself collapse into it like a beanbag chair. I sink into it like quicksand. It rolls my rag doll body around, dizzying and disorienting me until I don’t know which way is up. Suddenly, he tucks me somewhere tighter, a firmer surface against my back, and I realize I’m pinned to his palate, just before the entrance of his throat. The world around me tilts back and hangs still and tense and I’m left there waiting, reeling… until at last his tongue lurches up under me, folding me into his throat, and just like that I’m pulled down into the darkness deep inside him.

Hey.

Is there something wrong?

You look like you’ve been crying; can you tell me what happened? You don’t wanna? Okay. You’ve got that scared-and-sad-and-don’t-know-why feeling, haven't you? Yeah, I know what that feels like, you poor thing. You don’t mind me sitting here, do you? Great.

I extend a gentle hand, each finger the size of your whole body. Tentatively you climb on, and as slowly as possible I lift you, higher and higher, until you're right between my eyes.

I want to make sure you remember how precious you are.

Do you understand? You are precious, little one, and I love you. I love you, and I'll say it a hundred times until you believe me. You are loved.

I lean forward and give you a tiny, careful kiss, one that still takes up most of your upper body, and pat your head gently with the tip of my thumb.

You're so close to my heart, I'll do everything I can to make you feel safe and heard. I know you're in a bad place right now, but you are strong, little one. You are a strong, kind, beautiful person - and all that’s happened is, you’ve forgotten who you are. You just need to remember.

Now I open my mouth and bring you closer. A familiar softness opens up in front of you, and with unsteady footing you climb off my hand and over my teeth, settling onto the comfort of my tongue. I shut my jaws and darkness closes in - it's just you and me now.

Remember the time you accomplished a goal.

I move you around with my tongue, gently, playfully.

Remember the time you made someone laugh.

I squish you into my cheeks and to the roof of my mouth.

Remember the time you helped yourself feel happy.

I let you look down into the tunnel of my throat, pulsing and flexing eagerly.

Remember everything that makes you you.

And with a slow, engulfing movement, I swallow.

Everyone feels like this sometimes, like the whole world is against them and that their life is nothing but a never-ending slide into darkness and despair…

You come to rest inside the cavern of my stomach, the safe little hidey-hole you know so well. All the familiar sounds and sensations are there: my heartbeat thumps its gentle rhythm, and every surface is as soft and welcoming as you remember. You give the walls a rub in gratitude.

But you just need to remember that you make the lives of everyone around you so much better - simply by being you.

And if all you can do is be the best you you can be…

Well, that really makes a difference, y'know.

Enjoying the movements you're making, I pat my tummy in reply, and you feel the vibration all around and through you, soothing and comforting.

Do you remember now?

You have so much love to give to the world, and that’s such a blessing, it really is. But all that matters is that you save some for yourself. You deserve love. I mean it. And you'll always be there for yourself, even when no one else is. So learn to give yourself what you need, the way you do for everyone.

I settle in somewhere cozy while you do the same inside me, beginning to feel relaxed and drowsy.

You're stardust, little one, and you shine for the whole world to see.

Never forget that.

Spelunking.

Super short (2.5K) self indulgent story of a borrower!you getting caught by Christopher and swallowed up <3 Maybe bring better equipment next time you try borrowing from a maneater...

G/t, ambiguous ending, rope play in the throat, and mentions of fatal <3 enjoy!

You can’t believe you got caught.

The man who lives in the apartment you’ve been borrowing from is home so rarely that you suppose you’ve gotten careless. After all, he’s never around to hear your heavy footsteps on the counters or the scrabbling of clumsy hands against drawers. His two cats are easy enough to maneuver around as well, seeing as one of them is trained well enough to not go on the counter, and to scream at the other one whenever it gets the bright idea of chasing you along the countertop. 

You’d been testing your new rope, tying it to all manner of things in the kitchen and letting yourself be slowly lowered off the edges of drawers, tables, counters… and hadn’t been bothering to keep your laughter at your successes quiet, nor the thuds of your tiny boots as you’d climbed up the edges of his walls and cabinets. 

Everything had been going so well that you’d somehow missed the sound of the bedroom door opening and the light in the hallway, and by the time you realized that something was amiss… was only due to clawed fingers wrapping around your waist and a soft coo of: “Oh, what do we have here?”

And now, here you are, dangling between his fingers from the rope you’d thought had been such a clever tool to get around the maze of his apartment. You can’t bring yourself to speak as you stare up at him meekly, the light reflecting off his glasses making his eyes seem cold and far away- near impossible to read. 

He hasn’t spoken since his initial greeting, if you can even call it that. All he’s done is stare at you with that coldness in his eyes, almost as if he’s calculating something- blinking every now and again, though it does nothing to set your mind at ease. If anything, it makes you feel worse, and when he opens his lips and finally speaks to you properly-

“Well. You should fit. This should be interesting.”

-it does nothing to calm your nerves. 

Before you can ask him what he means, the air is forced out of your lungs by him tugging on your little rope, effortlessly and haphazardly lifting you into the air above his face and leaving you to stare down at him in terrified disbelief. You’ve never met this human before, but from what you’ve gathered, there’s nothing too horrible about him. 

With your lower lip trembling, you look down into his deep brown eyes, searching for any trace of a joke or flickers of sympathy. 

What you receive in return is a toothy smirk. One that plays out almost in slow motion, leaving you helpless to watch as his lips curl away from his teeth, showing the gleaming, drool-slicked and sharp points lining his gums. Your heart starts racing at the sight of them, and again, you try to find your words- but you’re once again interrupted by something terrifying. 

Those teeth were bad enough on their own, but as you stare down at Christopher’s freckled face… they begin to part. 

A warm blast of air rises from the chasm opening beneath you and you find yourself unable to look away as the huge muscle of his tongue shifts- easily the size of a small mattress and just as cushioned- moving from one side of the pink and dripping cavern to the other. The surface of it flexes in waves, and you follow the muscle back toward the darkest pit in the back of his jaws- marked by a swinging uvula and a streamlined tunnel designed to cram anything it can fit inside down.

His throat flexes, and his whole mouth shifts at once- a mess of moving pieces and parts and flesh and teeth rearranging to allow him a soft swallow- and when it opens again, strings of drool connect the bottom of his jaws to the top like the bars of a prison cell. 

Unable to speak, your own mouth opens and closes as you watch his throat shift with his every breath, the idle motions of his tongue twitching and swaying as more and more saliva floods the cavern. 

You’re transfixed, though the spell breaks when his grip on your rope abruptly falters- sending you falling a few inches closer to the gaping maw with a scream. 

A laugh rolls over you in response, and you gasp, clutching the rope in your fingers despite the knot keeping you secure. You’re spinning now, watching the gullet beneath you pulse as you rotate, unable to keep yourself from noticing that it seems to be pulsing in anticipation, the tongue stretching out from between those lips as if to echo the sentiment. 

He’s going to eat you.

No. No, he won’t. 

Surely he won’t. 

Despite not being human, you think for a moment that you’ll be able to appeal to his sympathy, though when you manage to tear your gaze away from his maw to try looking into his eyes--

The rope slides easily through his fingers, and with a rush of air, you plummet- your scream being cut off and muffled by his tongue greeting you. It all but wraps around your sides, and you feel it constrict, pinning your arms to your torso as its owner tips his head back and allows you to fall backward into the cage of his mouth. 

You scream as the tongue folds over you greedily, drinking in your flavour and slathering you in thick saliva. The surface won’t stop moving beneath your hands- cushy and soft and speckled with taste buds that leave a faint bumpy texture pressing against your palms and fingers- though when he abruptly licks you again, you’re flipped onto your side, helpless to do anything but let his tongue squish tightly against your back. The muscle is hot and explorative, wasting no time in dragging its tip along your flailing limbs. 

Everything around you is hot and slick, but the more you fight against it, the more of his saliva seeps through your clothes, soaking your skin and causing you to slip around easily in the chasm of his mouth. A zigzag of light filtering between his teeth is the only way for you to see the warm pink of his tongue as it continues to effortlessly bat you and part of your flimsy rope around. 

It’s… so easy for him. 

So easy to treat you as nothing more than a sweet treat. You find yourself pushed against his fangs more than once, and each time, you suck in a sharp breath and wait for him to chew you to pieces- all the while trying to peer out past his lips for one more glance at the world you’re leaving behind.

You don’t get one. 

All your squirms earn you is more buffeting from the tongue, more hums of delight from the throat that you know is yawning wide behind you, but you don’t allow yourself to look at it, trying instead to drag yourself forward in the dripping mouth of the beast. You’re close. Your fingers reach the very edge of his gums and you strain to pull yourself up from his gullet even as you feel your legs brush the very edge of his throat.

A throat that twitches eagerly, the muscles there relaxing with a soft slrrrk of noise- and you yelp as you find yourself falling deeper into the squishy tube. 

“NO-”

The tongue that had been idly sloshing you around arches, filling his mouth and squeezing the air from your lungs in a strangled cry- though you don’t have time to be worried about that as you realize what the predator’s doing.

Swallowing. He’s swallowing. The gullet behind you lurches, a tiny hlrk and a bob of the muscles behind you causing you to throw your arms forward as gravity changes- but you’re too covered in saliva to get a grip on anything. Instead, you’re forced to feel his uvula drag across the back of your shoulders as he hums- the noise loud enough to make your chest feel like it’s buzzing. 

You’re squashed under his uvula entirely with another firm swallow, leaving you scrambling against the plush back of his tongue as you try to reach the swinging tab of flesh. Your fingers are tangled tightly in your rope, clutching it in utter desperation. It’s still holding fast. Still tied to something. 

You try to remember if you saw it caught between his molars or canines as you try to hoist yourself further up his gullet- barely able to even paw the backmost part of his tongue in your attempts to reach freedom. It’s still somewhat taut, taut enough that there’s hope…

…as light falls over you, you look up from the depths of his throat, for one fleeting moment allowing yourself to think that he’s about to cough you up. It must be a mistake. He seems like a kind enough man, and you shift your position slightly to see better, wiping a string of drool out of your face as a shadow falls over his jaws. 

His hand. 

And in his fingers…

No…

In his fingers, he’s lazily clutching the end of your rope. He holds it there with a soft chuckle, one that makes the throat around you ripple, before you watch his mouth start to relax as it closes for what you realize in terror is the final time.

“Wait- wait wait wait-!"

When he swallows, the walls of his throat clutch tight around you, rippling with a soft ulp that folds around you and tries to squeeze you down along with it. Your whole body jerks in place, being squashed tighter into the living tunnel before the rope pulls taut and forces you back up- which causes the muscles around you to quiver and the predator they belong to to hum. 

It’s absolutely deafening this close to his voicebox. 

You gasp as the slimy walls finally ease up, trembling at the sensation of something pressing at you from outside of your new prison. At first, you almost think you’re imagining it, but when the throat around you twitches in response to a firmer press, you realize those are fingers pressing against you from the outside. 

You can’t help but imagine yourself as a lump in Christopher’s throat. 

As you struggle harder, forcing your elbows out against the taunting squishes, in you mind’s eye, you see the small flutter of your movements settled just above his collarbone- the way you stretch the freckled skin and wriggle just beneath it- and as you tug on the rope in a desperate attempt to shimmy back up the way you came-

GLURK.

-the throat constricts tighter, and this time you can’t keep yourself from giving a yelp as you’re sucked further into Christopher’s esophagus- settled just beside his thudding heart. The walls of his gullet have grown tighter, as has the knot of the rope around your waist thanks to said walls hungrily rippling around you in an attempt to squeeze you deeper inside. Again, you struggle to haul yourself further up the rope that’s keeping you suspended in his chest. Your saliva slicked hands fumble to get a grip, and you curse yourself for not having tied too many knots in it before trying to use it out borrowing. In the pitch darkness of his throat, you can’t see much aside a very faint red- the light from outside only penetrating deep enough for you to see the faint outlines of the esophagus squeezing around you. 

Your rope is still being held snugly by the gullet’s walls, the red lifeline almost vanishing into the pulsing darkness, but you squint through the saliva running down your face just long enough to realize how far down you’ve been squeezed. Seeming miles of throat stretch above you, and a flicker of light from the top of the tunnel causes your heart to sink. On either side of you, you hear a rush of air filling your devourer’s lungs, and everything tightens as they fill with oxygen, preparing for another-

Gulp.

-for him, it must be nothing. Just soft and lazy bobs of his adam’s apple that allow your rope to fall deeper into the folds of his throat. You can almost imagine how faint the sound of him swallowing must be outside of the sweltering confines you’re in now- but you can’t quite cling to the illusion long enough to mute the disgusting squelch and ULLLLK that draw you deep enough to feel a distinct change in heat.

Heat from below you.

Heat coupled by the sound of an organic growl, and your heart grows cold despite the warmth of the predator surrounding you as you realize how close to the belly of the beast you’ve gotten.

You scramble against the soft walls, tugging on your slack rope more and more as the sound of gurgling grows louder beneath you. You can’t end up in his stomach. You won’t. You’re a borrower, you’re not-

Glmpk.

He swallows once more. 

Firmly. 

Firmly enough that you manage to look above you in terror, watching the tunnel of his throat constrict in a wave that rushes toward you in the dark, too fast for you to do anything but take a breath in before you’re squished firmly into the upper stomach sphincter. 

Then through it.

Your tiny form lands in his stomach with a wet plop.

The walls around you shudder with a gurgle of greeting, and above you, you hear a long and contented sigh breeze up from the throat you fought for your life not to get squeezed down- unable to keep yourself from envying the air for being able to get past his lips.

You’re not as lucky as the air. The stomach containing you groans in emphasis, the organ steadily starting to rock this way and that, the walls rippling inwards eagerly in what you realize are the beginnings of digestion. Your hands find the rope and you pull on it sharply, earning the sound of a muffled glp from above and the sensation of more and more of it pulling into his belly, coiling around you on the fleshy floor, gulp after gulp ushering it down, down…

The piece of yarn bobs momentarily at the back of Christopher’s throat, and it brushes the folds of flesh there as its pulled down his gullet. It isn’t fully soaked through with his saliva, not yet, and as he sits with his jaws open, he gulps, feeling it stick dryly in his throat- though he persists in his task anyway. 

With a few more short swallows, there’s no trace left of you at all. No rope dangles from between his lips. No shape wriggles in his throat, and as he trails a hand down to his comfortably full stomach… he grins at the realization that you fit so perfectly inside that you’ve completely vanished from the outside world. Not even a lump against his middle surfaces to show anyone where you’ve vanished to, and he purrs in delight, trailing his fingers over his middle and hiccuping suddenly when you squirm. 

“Oh, don’t worry.”

His voice rumbles around you, echoing over the sounds of digestion. One of the fleshy walls folds inward with a prod against you and you feel the tip of one of his claws massaging you into the lining. 

“I think I’m going to let my guts take their time with you… best get comfy in there.” 

Beyond The Reef [3]

Content: G/T, Fearplay, Mouthplay, Unwilling Prey, Shark Mer Pred

Word Count: 2012

Fandom: N/A; Original Content

A/N: New chapter! No full vore this time, but not for lack of trying 😂 

-

Aless tried to calm his racing heart as he wrapped himself around a hard coral, in a low grove on the ocean floor. He could see Skim from there, and watched as his tail swung from side to side lazily in the sunlight.

A part of him had been so sure that it was some kind of trick. That as soon as he rejected the offer, Skim would grab him and shove him in between those multitudes of teeth and crush him into bits. Even if the story was true, there was no way he’d let Aless get away with wasting his time, when he could easily ‘repay’ him by becoming lunch.

Except… That didn’t seem to be the case.

Skim showed no signs of wanting to track him down or even try to go back to Hali Reef like Aless had feared. He simply basked in the sun lazily.

Maybe… Was it possible that he had really been telling the truth? About everything?

Keep reading

Mouthplay

I love the concept of a pred trying to ease their prey into allowing themself to be eaten.

The pred opens their mouth wide, letting little hands feel around. Trailing their palms over the smooth glistening teeth, tracing over sharp canines. Bushing over the tongue with a feather light touch, making the pred shiver and exhale. A puff of warm breath blowing over the tiny.

Small hands holding onto their bottom lip as they lean down to press a kiss to their pred’s lip. In turn the pred gently flicks the prey’s chin with their tongue. They close their lips over the prey’s hands, licking and sucking at them. Shivering at the odd feeling of tiny fingers against their tongue.

They open their mouth to let their prey take their hands back. Gently pushing the prey back to lay down, the pred tracing their finger down the prey’s side, gentle hungry eyes gaze down at them. So full of love and awe at their trust. The pred leans down, face hovering above them as warm puffs of air fan over their tiny body. The pred’s tongue slips out from between pink lips to drag up the prey’s front.

The pred laps at them, soft licks slowly becoming stronger, pressing their body into the table top below. The pred hums at their flavour, they taste wonderful. The pred leans forwards to lick from their torso up to their chin, pulling back to admire the beautiful blush that pools in the prey’s cheeks.

The prey leans up to brush their hand across their pred’s bottom teeth and in turn the pred takes the prey’s arm into their mouth, using gentle pressure to nibble at their arm playfully.

Pulling back the pred moves down, tongue slipping out to scoop the prey’s legs up, drawing the limbs into their mouth. They push down, closing their lips around the prey’s waist. They hum at the prey’s taste, smiling around their body.

The prey watches as their legs disappear into the pred’s maw. They reach out to stroke the top lip, smiling as the pred melts under their touch.

Ever so small, yet they hold so much power over the pred.

The pred sits back taking the prey with them, a hand hovering beneath their tiny form. The pred leans completely back, tilting their head back so the prey is vertical. The prey stares down at the pred’s blissed out expression as they softly taste the tiny on their tongue.

In one fluid motion the tongue slips out beneath the prey to curl over the top of their head. Lips opening just long enough to draw the prey down between them. Teeth clicking shut behind them. The pred groans at the feeling of their tiny weight resting in their mouth. So perfect.

The pred flicks the prey over their teeth and into their cheek, sucking their tiny form. Righting their head, the pred opens their eyes to look in the vanities mirror. Smirking at the sight of the prey’s squirming outline through their cheek. They watch on for a moment, enjoying the feeling of tiny hands pressing to the soft flesh of their cheek. The pred eventually rolls them back onto their tongue opening their mouth, they grin at the little face peeking from between their lips in the mirror.

The prey rolls over onto their stomach to look for themselves. They like the reflection, their pred looks so happy and they’re so comfy. The pred’s tongue flicks up to lick their face, chuckling at the disgusted look the prey shoots them through the mirror.

The tongue below them bucks and they’re drawn backwards as the pred swallows them. Mouth still open, the pred watches as they disappear from their maw. They close their mouth and tilt their head back slightly to watch the bump appear in their throat. They trace it with their eyes as it disappears behind their collarbone.

Delicious.

The pred sighs, satisfied with their little snack as the prey spills out into their stomach. They recline in their chair, patting their stomach softly. “You really hit the spot, sweetheart~” they grin as the prey curls up warm and comfy in their pred’s stomach, blushing at the praise.