Mummy Issues - Blog Posts

La merced de las Flamas. (En publicación) - Dolorosas memorias (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1380649523-la-merced-de-las-flamas-en-publicaci%C3%B3n-dolorosas?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Cabra-alpacazaurio&wp_originator=HssL01KHn38zDALbenH8Wecb2m%2BktBAb0UF%2BF0DtwFQmhbZZ1clfk%2FeFSZrT%2Fh6NKSR0Tjp9eYzWNoC2xHinC9NG1ysDPKWGVXHSGC%2F%2Fy5ir36QsJ79tMiVEP4HfivBj 

 ¿Que hacías si lo fantástico se te revelara?¿ Lo seguirías? Pero . . . ¿y si no era lo que imaginabas? . . . Tras un sueño poco convencional, donde una chica hecha de flamas dice reconocerla, Mercedes se ve transportada a un mundo paralelo donde la magia es posible, pero donde es acusada de ser una de las mayores criminales de ese lugar sin siquiera ella saber donde está, no suficiente con eso, la nación entera está en medio de una guerra que tambalea toda la calma y belleza del país y solo Mercedes puede condenar todo y salvarlos a todos. ¿Lo conseguirá? ¿Por qué es acusada injustamente? ¿Qué sucedió antes como para que todo llegue a este nivel? . . . La historia se actualiza como mínimo una vez a la semana, es la primera vez que inicio con un proyecto tan largo por lo que aun me cuesta agarrarle el ritmo, pero haré mi mayor esfuerzo para traer lo mar rápido posibles los capítulos. ¡Muchas gracias por leer <3!

He actualizado :D

  Debería subir más cosas por aquí pero cada vez que entro me distraigo con lo que sube la gente :,D

Catherine 🤝 Peter

Incredibly deep Mummy issues.

i love to see girls with pretty hairstyles:

braids and plats and buns and high ponytails-

hairstyles that would be impossible to do on your own.

hairstyles that would require someone behind you, combing and twisting your hair while you sit down uncomfortably and stare at a wall.

your mother ties a hair lackey before patting you on the back and telling you to go brush your teeth and put on your uniform.

your friends say that your hair looks nice today. some of your friends have half up-half down hairstyles. some of them have neat pigtails. one of them has their hair down.

you come home, your hair now tangled from pulling at your scalp. nails short from biting anxiously. lips bleeding from biting compulsively.

your mother asks you if you did well on the exam.

later that night she reads your university pamphlets.

on your last day of school, your mother sits behind you and curls your hair with a straighter she’s had since she was 27. it’s old and barley works, but it gets the job done.

you kiss her on the cheek before she tells you to go brush your teeth and put your uniform on.

your friends all look very pretty. their hair is straightened, curled, braided. one girl has the same hair as always.

you come home and cry in the shower. your hair is back to how it was before your mother curled it. it’s back to how it was when you were born. the first hairstyle your mother ever gave you.

later that night she makes your toast.

you’re in your university dorm room, and you can’t seem to get your hair right.

you try to put it in pigtails, but strands are falling in the back. it’s not neat or pretty- it’s lopsided.

you try to put it into a high ponytail, but the hair lackey breaks.

you try to curl your hair, but there are too many sections you can’t reach.

you can’t ask your friend for help. she doesn’t know how to do it either.

you can’t ask your mum, she’s halfway across the country.

so you let it be. your hair is down and unstyled.

you look around at your friends and teachers. their hair is all down. maybe in a low pony.

no buns, no braids, no pigtails, no half up-half downs, no plats, no ponytails.

their mothers are gone now.

maybe one day you’ll learn how to style someone’s hair. maybe you can sit behind a little girl and neatly put her hair in plats after watching hours of videos on how to do it right.

maybe one day you will sit down in front of your mother again. maybe she’ll kiss your head, brush through your hair with her fingers, and tell you that your hair is beautiful. she’ll turn to look at you and smile, gazing at the hair that she made.

it’s down and unstyled and natural.

it’s wavy or curly or straight or fluffy or frizzy or thick or thin. and it’s beautiful.

because she is beautiful.

“I know you’re trying baby. That’s what makes it so sad. You try your hardest and you still fail. Time to stop trying now. Time to switch off and be mummy’s naughty fucktoy.”

“Mummy’s very busy now, baby. She’s got to call her friends and then do some work, so you have to be gagged so you’re not a distraction. You can sit quietly and paint mummys toe nails for her so she looks good at the weekend. Do a good job and maybe I’ll let you hump my feet.”

I don’t want to be a grown-up making decisions. I want to sit at mummy’s feet staring up at her adoringly as she makes all my decisions for me.

I want to be on my knees sleepily tugging on mummy’s skirt. “Think for me please, mummy…”

I want mummy to sweet talk me onto her lap, facing her with my legs splayed easing myself down onto her strap-on. Tell me I’m such a good boy for being so willing to bounce on mummy’s cock.

Hold my hand in a leading manner and tell me to watch your bum sway as we walk. I’m not clever enough to lead, I’m mummy’s little follower and watching that swaying is my reward.

“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.”

Please can a hot mummy hypnotise me and get me to kneel in front of her to stare at her feet and tell me I’m mummy’s happy little boy and staring at feet is all I want?

“I know you’re upset that I’m going on a date tonight. I understand but sometimes mummy just needs grown up conversation and a really big cock. Why don’t you kneel down here as I’m getting ready? I’ll finish you off just before I leave.”