Yesterday I Acted On This And Text The Person In Question. I Apologised For My Behaviour And Then Immediately

I want to paint mummy’s toenails for her before she goes out on a date then kiss her feet goodbye and thank her for dating other guys.

“Please may I have a cummie this evening, mummy, please?”

“Oh baby, I was about to tell you you could have a cummie tonight but now you’ve asked I can’t. You know the rules. No asking for cummies ever. You’re going to have to wait at least another month now. But don’t worry, I’ll be here to help you cope.”

A few days ago I talked about a fantasy I’d dreamt up about an ex-colleague I disliked (and, for the record, still do). This is a continuation of that, a scenario that I wouldn’t really be totally against getting into in real life…

N part II

I wake up naked in N’s bed. I can remember snapshots from the night before. I remember nodding along passively as N talked at me. I remember drinking a delicious drink. I remember finding myself in N’s flat and wanting, needing, to be naked and kissing her feet. I remember being overcome with the need to apologise to her again and again and again. And I remember having hot, sweaty sex. N had me take her from behind and, once she’d cum, had sat on my face to be licked clean.

I didn’t remember cumming myself. Because I hadn’t.

Now N is nestled against me, her naked body warm and her limbs entwined with mine. I realise I’m taking this all in very calmly and that what I actually want to do is scream and shake her awake and ask her what she’s done to me. I want to leave. I want to be gone. I want to escape whatever this situation is and pretend it never happened. I want out. But I don’t move. I lie still and watch N sleep peacefully.

Eventually N stirs and looks up at me, smiles lazily and gives me a good morning. I feel myself instinctively smile as she looks at me. I want to shake myself away from her but instead I lie there passively, smiling like an idiot. She tells me I look good when I smile, that it’s a nice improvement on my usual scowl, and I should do it more often. I want to tell her off for this, for telling me that I scowl when I actually don’t. I want to tell her I show my happiness as normally and naturally as anyone else. But I also love that she’s complimented me and want more. I want to meekly thank her.

Then her hand is on my erect penis and she’s giggling and telling me it needs taking care of. But no, that’s wrong. It’s not a penis. It’s a peeny. I have a little, unimpressive peeny and I’m very lucky N is touching it. I open my mouth to try and speak. I don’t know what I want to say. Do I want to demand answers? Do I want to thank her? Do I want to ask her to take care of my little erection? No sound comes out. My jaw just hangs open and I find that I’m vacantly staring into N’s eyes. She tells me I look stupid, so very very stupid. But she likes me to look stupid because that’s my true self. And she’s stroking me slowly and firmly, telling me how stupid and boring and rude I am, but that she’ll help me improve and become a better boy. I find I’m nodding along as I stare into her eyes, and then her pace quickens for just a few seconds and I’m cumming and cumming and cumming, grunting and moaning and humping her hand. I can feel my cock pulsing and jetting liquid into her hand, one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. And she’s telling me what a good boy I am and at that moment I so so so desperately want to be that good boy. I want to impress N. I want her approval and love and acceptance. In that moment gaining these things from her is the most important thing in the world to me.

N continues talking, informing and guiding my stupid, rude, inferior mind with her words. I’m rolling onto my front and propping myself onto all fours. And then she’s sitting in front of me and her hand appears below my face and I’m lapping up the salty treat she’s offering me. N is laughing and telling me I’m being so good, so very good. She asks me if it tastes nice. I can’t answer, I’m too busy licking her hand clean. But N seems to know this and tells me she knows I love the taste and I realise I do love the taste, she’s absolutely right. And I’m vaguely aware again of how much I hate her but I’m also grateful and thankful and I love her and need her to approve of me.

Then her hand is pressed to my face, smearing the sticky liquid all over my cheeks and lips and chin before drawing away and patting my head, wiping herself clean on my hair. N’s still laughing. She’s laughing at how stupid I look. She’s laughing at getting away with treating me like this, revelling in her acts of humiliation. I feel angry and weak, my cheeks burn with the impotence of embarrassment. She’s telling me I should thank her for such a delicious morning treat and my hatred for her sears again. She reaches forward and roughly grasps my jaw, raising my eyes to look into hers. I’m told to thank her. Her voice is icy, sharp, commanding.

I tell her I love her and thank her. She laughs uproariously. Then she’s laying back and guiding my face to her crotch. I immediately kiss and lick and suck, desperate to please and make her happy. Internally I’m screaming at this, desperate to walk out, close my eyes, just stop! But outwardly I’m passionate and attentive and I can hear myself making mewls of pleasure, blissful little sounds that indicate nothing but abject happiness. N is breathing heavily, gasping, and occasionally giving instructions which I cannot quite recall but that I know I followed immediately. I hear her tell me to thank her again and I do, my lips brushing against her lower ones as I do so.

This tips her over the edge. N giggles and squeals and moans in delight as she orgasms. After a few moments of leaving me to continue attending to her she lifts my head from her crotch and we each kneel on the bed looking into one another’s eyes. N tells me she’ll let me stay if I want to and I ask her very, very nicely. I’m furious at her arrogance and desperate, frantic, to get up and run, just run as fast and as far as I can away from her and whatever it is she’s done and is continuing to do to me. I open my mouth, determined to scream and swear and rant and threaten and declare that nothing could make me want to stay.

“I love you, N. Please, oh please, oh please may I stay here with you and be made into a better person? I want it. I need it! I’m sorry I was rude and arrogant and naughty. Please please please? I love you!” I hear myself say.

She giggles and tells me she’ll think about it as she takes hold of my head and pushes my face back down into her crotch.

Anyone reading this want to be the mummy I go to to ask if I can please have a cummie?

“Are you going to thank mummy for making your peeny permanently soft and little and pink? Good boy. You’re very welcome. Now take two fingers and make some quick tug-tugs for mummy before she leaves for her date.”

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

Imagine having a loving, caring, nurturing girlfriend who tells you she’s booked you a spa weekend as a treat but it’s actually a reconditioning facility to regress you into her helpless baby.

Train me. Brainwash me. Make me absolutely desperate to please you, terrified any time I think I’ve done something that will even slightly displease you.

This morning on the train to work a woman got on and sat down next to me. She was much shorter than me with jet black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She was wearing a black suit, black tights and flats. I immediately wanted her to slip a chloroform soaked rag over my mouth, looking dispassionately into my eyes as I slip into unconsciousness. Then I’d wake up later tied up on the floor of her bedroom wearing nothing but a nappy and a (thick) mouth gag.

Then the brainwashing would begin. “You like it here.” “You’ve always lived here.” “You never want to leave here.” “Being here with mummy is all you’ll ever want.”

Fantasy idea: dress me up in a onesie or a little sailor suit. Cuff my wrists together and my ankles together and then cuff those sets of cuffs together. Put a gag in my mouth. Leave me to awkwardly crawl around on the floor all weekend. Tell me I have to do my best to always be in your view and then, of course, find lots of reasons to keep moving around the house. When you do settle somewhere make it somewhere awkward for me to sit. Go for long stretches of barely acknowledging me and then occasionally overload me with praise and maybe some touching.

Watch me become yours.