Trigger

🏜 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱, 𝐀𝐙 🇺🇸 𝒜𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓈𝓉 | 𝕌𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖🏳️‍🌈 Future furry! Into: Rubber, leather, sports gear, bondage, pup play 🐾

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Anubis raised his hands, and strips of black rubber weaved up their limbs, wrapping, binding them tighter and tighter. The cocoon enclosed them inch by inch-every layer compressing, seducing, consuming. Fully mummified, smooth, trembling statues of black perfection.

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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝘋𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩, 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱

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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘹 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦: 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝, 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙩.

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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙁𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 ✨🩵

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@chrastapher Woof! You look stunning! 💚✨🐾

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@tolfdog Woof thank you! I do love to get creative with my Under Armour 😏

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𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘈𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘳���𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

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𝘚𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙑𝙖𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙑𝙤𝙞𝙙, 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮.

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𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘭��𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙭 𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥‑𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙤𝙣𝙨.

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𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘨, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙙.

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𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘶𝘣𝘪𝘴, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘳��𝘯𝘨 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨

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𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙣.

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𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦.

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𝘐𝘵 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚�� 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙢—𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯. 𝘗𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵, 𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳.

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𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘶𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤, 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩-𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘳: 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘤𝘦-𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮

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𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴���𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝙖 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩, 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙩 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦. 𝙄𝙩𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

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𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺: 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙥𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝘢 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝙧𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩, 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧.

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𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙺𝟿 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎, 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚒�� 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛��, 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚.

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𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚—𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦-𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧.

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𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙠 𝘋𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺, 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘹 ����𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮, 𝙖𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝙬𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚.