I Just Want To Stare Vacantly At A Pretty Pink Spiral As Mummy Slides A Strap Into My Ass And Tells Me

“Remember baby, little-dicked boys don’t need a brain. Let’s keep you locked up and shrinking for just one more week…”

Make me emotionally and financially dependent on you. Give me a very small, strictly controlled allowance. Make me desperate for your praise. Just manipulate and control me and make me absolutely adore you despite you treating me badly!

I want to be turned into a stupid, obedient premature ejaculator so much. Make me so far gone that I’m proud of how quickly I spurt for you. Have me come in and perform for your friends then thank you for the privilege. I want to be ruined and happy about it.

Being hypnotised and repeating back each instruction in a dull monotone. Being completely powerless to fight off my mind being altered and changed, being made to WANT that.

Give me this.

A good boy is allowed an erection. Erections make good boys happy and pliant. Be a good boy so you are allowed erections.

Fantasy idea: there’s another lockdown (I don’t want this in reality but let’s work with it in this fantasy world). My boss asks me if I’d like to stay with her and her partner. She tells me she knows I just want to be a mindless pet and that’s how she’ll keep me. She puts me in a chastity cage, takes my phone and all my clothes away, puts a gag in my mouth, and shows me the new clothes she’ll be giving me to wear.

New clothes are frilly knickers and small, too-short T-shirts that ride up as I wear them, exposing my belly for that extra feeling of vulnerability. Maybe some mittens and ankle socks or booties too, just to make me feeling that bit more childish and subdued.

I then spend my days curled up at my boss’s feet, sometimes kissing and massaging them. Maybe occasionally I’m allowed to snuggle under a blanket with her. At meal times I eat from a bowl on the floor as my boss and her partner eat at a table or on the couch with me at their feet. At nighttime I curl up to sleep in a big pile of pillows and blankets, or maybe a big quilty basket. Occasionally, or maybe often, my gag is removed and I have normal chats about our shared interests with my boss, as if me kneeling before her dressed in such an embarrassing fashion and completely at her mercy is the most normal situation in the world.

“But baby, if you go out with your friends who will give mummy a foot rub tonight? Exactly, no one will, and we can’t have that can we? Mummy thinks it’s best if you stay in with her. In fact maybe I should call your friends and have a talk with them about being bad influences on you. Or maybe we should just stop you having friends altogether. What do you think? Yes exactly, you think whatever mummy says. What a good boy!”

Recently I’ve been having a lot of thoughts about lying on my back naked looking up lovingly at my boss standing over me as she finger fucks my mouth with one hand and teases my butthole with the other. She’d tell me how well behaved and slutty I am as I moan around her probing fingers and thank her for guiding me and making me her good boy.

Today my boss came in with her nails painted the colour of dark red wine. I wanted to strip naked, kneel in front of her and suckle on her fingers like a good boy.

I just want a kind, pretty woman to mother me, dress me up in panties, and tell me how pretty and trapped my peenie looks. Is that really too much to ask?