I Kind Of Want To Spend The Day At Work With An Enormous Gag In My Mouth. I’d Love To Have My Communication

Just saw a picture of a woman in hot pants and it triggered me into ordering some French knickers for myself.

Sometimes, by which I mean quite often, I browse Tumblr at work and my manager walks by. I have a bit of a crush on her and fantasise about her softly telling me to give her my phone. I wouldn’t want to but I also wouldn’t put up much of a fight and would give in pretty much immediately and then stand there bashfully as she browsed through my phone discovering all my kinks.

Love the idea of being all weak and confused from brainwashing and drugs and knowing I want to fight mummy off but not being able to. Hearing “Hush now, mummy’s got something to keep you quiet” as I’m overpowered and forced down to my knees, where mummy’s cock is thrust into my mouth.

“Don’t be silly, baby. Mummy loves your soft little penis. It’s very cute and so useful for controlling how you think. It’s just not good for sex, that’s all. You’re still mummy’s best boy.”

Give me a daily routine to complete then take away or deny access to key components of it. Leave me weeping and broken because I’m unable to complete my servitude as I know I should. Then make me so happy and thankful when you come along and fix everything so that I can serve you again.

I want a relationship where a dominant woman cuts me off from all friends and family and gradually makes me more and more reliant on her until I’m totally broken and subservient and reliant on her.

Tattoo me. Brand me. Mark me as YOURS. Preferably with a slutty tramp stamp that draws attention to my mummy issues.

This is one of the greatest Tumblr posts I’ve ever read. I absolutely love it.

"That should be the very last injection of your medication. You've been such a strong patient through the last few months, getting your doses on time. I'm so proud of you."

"I know I said it's supposed to be treating your anxiety, but actually it's been making it worse. See, as your insecurities grew, it was easier for me to manipulate them. You only feel happy around me now, which is why you've been taking me to dinner, and on shopping trips, and why you're paying for my car."

*looks down at where you are, on your knees, the syringe still hanging from your arm. She lifts up her leg and places one perfect goblin foot against your lips, pressing her toes into your mouth until you begin to obediently suck on them*

"Now, you're going to sign your power of attorney, but first you're going to clean each of my pretty feet. It will make you happy. It will make you whole again. It will make you my slave."

“You want to go home? This IS your home, silly. Maybe you need auntie to explain it all to you again.”

I want to be taught to get silly and highly excited and touch myself whenever a particular woman with mummy attributes appears on TV. Someone like Liza Tarbuck or Kate Garraway or Ruth Langsford. I just love the idea of being unable to stop myself from losing control over a late middle-aged woman as a sexy mummy sits on the couch behind me laughing and gently encouraging me, deepening my fixation with the presenter.