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dirt enthusiast
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Stranger Things
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trying on a metaphor
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Today's Document
oozey mess
we're not kids anymore.
#extradirty
Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi
JVL
if i look back, i am lost
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@artisanalmc
Emergency Sketch Comms 💜
Tax season hitting me hard this year-
Looking to recover a little with 20 slots for Sketches.
DM me ASAP if you're interested in helping a girl out!
I still have slots available for these kinds of C0/MMs! I also have normal comms open as well for those who just wanna go all the way!!
How much of your identity do you want me to stop away?
1. I infantilize your name, don't treat you like an independent woman, and demean you until you feel inferior
2. I give you a new, sexualized name. I treat you like a slut and patronize you until you don't even feel like your own person.
3. I get rid of your name and only refer to you in sexual terms such as slut, whore, bitch, and cunt. I treat you like exist solely to please me and degrade you till you don't even feel like a person.
4. I only refer to you as an object and never address you directly unless I'm giving you commands. I treat you as though you have all the identity of a piece of furniture, and objectify you so thoroughly you can only identify as property.
4 please
Treat me as if I’m no more of a person than your toaster or roomba
My Roomba has a name, so you would be lesser than my Roomba.
Ahh, but imagine a world where the depersonalization process is fixed at 4. Most well-to-do homes have at least one drone emptied out of all personality. They do basic chores and are there for their owners to use as they see fit.
But, like a Roomba, even though they aren't really people, some owners give them names anyway. They pat them on the ass as they follow their programming, and some people swear that their little dolls like it. They don't, obviously. Furniture doesn't get an opinion, and the names exist only in the minds of the people who gave them, but it's still nice to pretend they're people. At least until you put them back in their boxes for the night.
Just popping in to remind everyone in the US to vote today.
OooOoo are getting sleepy. You want to do your civic duty. You want to protect your friends and family from the West's insidious slide toward fascism.
Polls opened on the East coast a minute ago. Go make the world a better place and stop Sweet Potato Hitler.
"Knock knock? Hey, have you seen my-"
Sean paused at the doorway, admiring the tableau his roommate inhabited. He knew Natalie worked hard and read widely for her degree, despite her profound aversion to talking about herself, but surely there were only so many books one could keep up with at once.
He looked around the tiny room, taking in as much as he could from the doorway. He tried not to disturb her any more than necessary, and he'd been relatively good about keeping his behavior in check, so it would be a shame to fall off the horse now.
He saw what he was looking for: his jacket folded on top of a basket of laundry. All I have to do is grab it and go without waking her up, or... doing anything else, he thought.
He took three gentle steps across the bare hardwood, grimacing with each creak, and reached out to get his coat.
As his fingers brushed the fabric, he heard the slightest snore come from behind him.
A switch flipped somewhere deep inside his mind. He felt himself go rigid in every sense of the word. Repressed memories streamed into his brain: visions of folding her supple body into position after position for his pleasure. His grip tightened on the jacket, and he looked to the stream of light pouring in from the hallway. If I can get to the door-
But his body was already in motion. Moving quietly, he stepped to the other side of the bed and torturously opened the drawer of her night stand. His fumbling right hand found a new bottle of lubricant among the various sex toys, his eyes slid off the 'Sperm Safe' claim on the front of the bottle, and his left hand barely managed to get his cock out of his sweatpants without snagging on the waistband. A well practiced hand motion coated the length of his shaft moments later as he moved between her legs.
He parted her knees and thrust his cock between her thighs. His right hand guided the tip to her lips as he leaned over her. Holy shit she's so fucking tight he thought as he slowly slid inside her. She shuddered slightly in her sleep, and he paused a moment, hoping she would wake and stop him.
But after a moment she shifted in her nap and snorted again. Her head rolled to the side as she settled into a somehow deeper slumber. He couldn't prevent himself from thrusting into her, but nothing forced his lips to her neck as his cock explored deeper and deeper. He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure. Nothing so wrong should feel so right.
But it did. Soon he felt his balls tighten and his breath catch on the edge of orgasm. He began to thrust harder and deeper, chasing his release, but it escaped him as it always seemed to. As the minutes wore on he became more angry than horny, gripping her by the shoulders so he could fuck her harder.
Her breathing began to nearly match his own. He watched the color rise in her beautifully sculpted cheeks, anticipation building in him as well. With a gentle "Oh!" He felt her clench around him, shaking in her deep slumber.
As soon as she did so, he knew he was free. Second later he pushed deep and shot his load deep inside her. It seemed to go on and on and on and-
---------------------------
He was sitting on the couch. He blinked and shook his head and looked around the room. His jacket sat under his left elbow, somehow still folded on the armrest.
Before he could try and process that, he heard Natalie's door open. He turned his head to face her, feeling his ears go slightly red.
She didn't meet his gaze. She never did, but every now and again he swore there was something more to it than social anxiety would account for. She was beet red, for one thing, but she also had a blanket under one arm.
On seeing it, he remembered why he'd been looking for his jacket. A shiver ran up his spine, and he wrapped his arms around himself. "They're taking their time getting the radiator fixed, huh? You'd think they'd be more worried about the pipes freezing."
"Yeah." She walked up to the couch, not saying anything else, but looking meaningfully at the empty space next to him.
Hope and fear combined in his stomach. "I was about to watch some tv, care to share a blanket with me?"
She nodded, and pulled the remote control from her pocket. "What show?"
He scooted over to give her room as she joined him. "I was thinking that horror series you mentioned the other day. The one with the dolls?"
Her face lit with joy, before falling again just as fast. "But you don't like scary stuff..."
He mussed her hair. "Yeah, but you know all about it, so you can tell me how they did the special effects while I close my eyes to keep out the special effects." He patted the seat next to him. "I'll be fine."
She grinned, and slid gingerly onto the couch next to him, laying her head into his lap and turning on the TV in quick succession.
Static filled the screen for a moment, and something at the back of his mind tickled his memory. But it was gone as soon as the DVD player filled the TV with a loading screen for a long defunct series.
He stroked her hair as the first episode started. She sighed contentment, and he grinned. Neither the sudden tightness in his pants nor the knowledge of how thoroughly he'd just filled her would spoil this moment. He could be good. He wanted so badly to be good for her.
"Hey, I'm glad you made it!" Phoebe smiled through the awkwardness. "No trouble finding the place?"
The place in question was a 'Mexican' food truck on the edge of town, run by a middle aged white guy who could 'fix up a mess of keserdillers', and who kept a notice in the window asserting that the truck was sovereign territory operating under maritime law. Darren inhaled deeply, pleasantly surprised at the scent drifting through the early autumn night.
"No, no trouble." He sat down opposite her. "Not much out this way, especially this late. I just looked for the lights." He smiled. "You look beautiful tonight."
Darren's heart beat a little faster as she smiled and blushed. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but when her eyes dropped to her hands his eyes fell to her new curves. He dragged them back up with an effort and tried to keep the conversation going.
"How've you been since-"
She had the same idea.
"It's nice to see-"
They stumbled. He tried again. "How've you been since Valentine's? I thought about reaching out, but..."
She nodded. "Yeah, my therapist said I should put it off. I know why I needed to, but it's still hard."
Unbidden, images of a distant night bubbled into his head. A promising third date at a dinner party with a friend of a friend. A toast. A timeless dream afterwards of debauchery and perversion. Men tied to chairs. Women tied to tables and vibrators. Himself in the middle of it somehow. A gleeful face watching him do her bidding. Paramedics and police and the feeling of horror as sobriety returned in time for him to find himself wrapped in a space blanket sitting on the back bumper of a firetruck.
"It doesn't feel like healing, does it?"
He looked up at her. "What? How did you-?"
She tapped her temple. "I was there too, you know."
He paused, almost holding his breath before speaking again. "No, it doesn't."
"Darren, I know what happened to us wasn't right. We spent almost a week under the influence of god knows what doing... All kinds of stuff. But it still calls to me. It felt- it feels right." She cringed slightly. "Well... most of it. Definitely some of it."
He took her hand in his. "It's hard to tell, isn't it? What you actually want versus ought to want?" He took a steadying breath. "I tried to give all the girls space, but I can't stop myself from wanting to go back to it." That Cheshire cat grin floated before his mind's eye, and he cringed at the memory of abject helplessness it brought with it. "...some of it."
A lull in the conversation brought their eyes together. His breath caught in his throat as butterflies filled his stomach. He'd somehow forgotten this simpler feeling of non-sexual affection. No, he thought. That's not right. I just thought I'd never feel it again.
She licked her lips. "Do you want to- to feel him?" Her hand caressed her bump. "I just- it feels like we ought to, um..."
Without hesitation, he got down on one knee to better hold her, and his son to be. His hands felt a little shaky, but he leaned in and gently placed his ear against her. In a quiet moment between the noise of passing night traffic, he heard the faintest drum of a heartbeat.
As the wonder of the moment washed over him, a tiny bump kicked him in the cheek.
He jumped back, and her laughter rang out like bells. He laughed too, the tension of the night broken by beauty and wonder and a very small foot.
Phoebe recovered the power of speech first. "Oh! Young man, you can't talk to your dad that way!"
His heart skipped a beat. "Dad? You'd let me- you want me in his life?"
Her laughter stopped, and after a beat she sat up straighter to look him in the eye. "I know it's gonna be, well, hard to explain." She laid her hands over his, still cradling her belly. "He's gonna have a bunch of brothers and sisters born around the same time, maybe they'll even have the same birthday, but they should know each other, right?"
He grinned, wiping away tears he hadn't noticed crying. "Yeah, I hope the other moms are on the same page. You and I at least knew each other a little beforehand. I know we get along already."
She looked at him strangely. "I mean, I'd expect their boyfriends and husbands would be a harder sell. They're gonna have to see you with their wives again, if we go that route."
"Oh, uh, I wouldn't worry about that." He scratched the back of his head. "We... They've already been in touch." He grinned sheepishly. "You and I aren't the only ones who miss some of that week."
A long pause followed as he realized the "Support group" of him and the men he'd cuckolded had a mirror image on the other side of the gender gap. He imagined a crowd of women, variously pregnant and wishing they were pregnant, asking the same questions he'd been hearing for months. 'Do you think he's mad? Do you think she still loves me? How do I show him I love him?' The long overdue make-up sex was going to be loud enough to get the cops called.
He blinked away the vision. None of that's my problem yet, he thought. I don't need to talk to anyone tonight.
"Hold on, this is going a little too fast." Darren stood a slightly too quickly to be graceful. "Any dietary restrictions?"
She shook her head, and he strolled to the food truck with a spring in his step that had been missing for most of a year. He returned five minutes later ten dollars poorer and three 'keserdillers' richer. He smiled at her confused look, and said "Let's start over." He set the paper plates on the table with all the flair he could muster, turned to her and said. "Phoebe! It's great to see you!" He held out his arms for a hug. "How've you been?"
She grinned, giddy as a school girl, and practically fell into his arms. She pressed her face into the fabric of his shirt and took a deep breath. "I've been okay, but I'm doing much better tonight."
They talked into the night, making up for lost time. Making little mistakes and making them better and making plans and making connections and laughing at just how easy it was to be in a complicated kind of love.
please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!
gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.
SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:
diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.
non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.
the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.
now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.
if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.
if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.
this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.
it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.
but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.
Wow I like those words ashgfkjvmgk
Would you mind if I used them?
(have been using bdsm(canonical) and bdsm(material) instead as in this narrative acknowledges bdsm as something happening in the story vs this is not bdsm in universe but it is bdsm related and just like, stuff to feed your fantasies, rules and morals do not apply because nobody is trying to portray real situations, these narratives are shallow as they are merely tools.) But I guess both the descriptions have slight differences.
oh yeah go nuts lol, it's just the best way I could come up with to phrase it, I don't own the words or anything
Watsonian BDSM vs Doylist BDSM
Watsonian BDSM is when Irene Adler and Sherlock have a talk about safe words, Doylist BDSM is when Harry Houdini gets an urgent telegram: HOW TO GET OUT OF HANDCUFS STOP NOT A HYPOTHETICAL STOP MISTAKES WERE MADE STOP I'LL ADMIT THR FAIRY PHOTOS WERE FAKE IF YOU GET HERE IN A QUARTER HOUR STOP
@xcel-zero-blog and I made a game for the Pregg Game Jam! Check it out and leave a comment what you think 😊💕
Play here: https://slickpens.itch.io/slicks-blue-ribbon-battle
"This is... not what I expected." Faith stared at the swirling, shifting colors on the screen in front of her. She was thankful the couch she had leaned over to start with was comfortable in this position. The plush back supported her so that all she had to do was keep her eyes open and watch.
Her math tutor, whose name escaped her at the moment, nodded. "You feel focused, right? In the moment?"
She murmured her assent, but stopped paying attention. A muffled voice in the back of her mind told her to turn away, to do something, anything, to break the hold of the patterns in front of her, but she just relaxed deeper. It wasn't even that she couldn't turn away and insist they work on the assignment that was worrying her, it was that she somehow knew that she wouldn't.
"Good. Let's start with your basic affirmations." He moved behind her and flipped up her dress, exposing her bare pussy beneath. He pressed his cock against her slit, which provided just enough friction to elicit a moan as his thick shaft filled her.
"Oooooo- Is this..." She struggled to remember her concerns, barely overcoming the arousal coursing through her. "Is this really the best- best way to... Oh God!" A powerful orgasm rolled through her, halting her tongue and thoughts.
"Don't worry about it." He said, his words sinking like some heavy, narcotic gas through her emptying head. "From here I can feel how much you're absorbing of my lesson." He thrust deep inside her and held himself there. "Repeat after me: I love master's cock inside me."
"I-I-I love... I..." She could feel a strange pressure start in her head, constricting slowly down her spine until it reached her cunt. She gripped his cock, or at least the thing in her head did.
He chuckled. "Try again." He began to pump in and out of her, slowly but firmly pushing deep into the body that had until moments before had been her sole domain.
She could barely speak for the pleasure. It was as though his cock could reach her mind directly, the pressure of his control waxing and warning as he thrusted deeper. "I love master's cock inside me!" A snap of pleasure ran through her body, encouraging her further. "I love master's cock inside me! I love master's cock inside me!! I love master's-" she came. Her speech continued in spite of herself as he maintained his rhythm, the pressure seeming to flow out with every thrust.
"Good girl. Who's a good little slut for master?" He gripped her hips and pulled her closer to him, holding her still and full, waiting for her reply.
"I am!" She gasped with all the breath she could. "I'm your good little slut and I love master's cock in me!" She waited momentarily for another spike of pleasure, but found nothing. "Wha- why didn't it- I'm not-"
He growled and began to thrust again more slowly. "It's because I'm not fucking away your worries anymore. You love my cock inside you now, so there's nothing left for me to fuck away." She could practically hear a grin spread across his lips. "Unless, of course, you'd like me to pick more things about you to change?"
She nodded eagerly, her little voice completely silenced. "Anything! Please? Please!"
She yelped as he smacked her ass. "Quiet! I'll give you what I chose, and you'll take what I give you."
She shuddered with arousal and submission as he took her deeper. "Yes, sir! I'm sorry sir!"
"Good." He licked his lips and gripped her tightly. "Let's begin."
--------------------------------------
Hours later, she awoke on the floor of her master's bedroom. She sat up, looked around, and tried to blink away the changes in her vision. Her cage under his bed seemed homey and safe, despite the pitiful mewling of her once formidable self-preservation. Her classmate, chained and asleep inside it, did not trouble her at all.
She reached down to touch herself until he returned to give her direction, and found herself not only satisfied, but still full somehow. It didn't take long for her to realize that he must have cum inside her while making her a good girl.
She laid down again, trying to maximize her chances of carrying his child this time, and searched herself for reaction. Her graduate school plans dropped away easily, and her goals of public service with them. The simple life of obedience and breeding ahead of her enticed her more convincingly than anything else ever had, or ever would again.
Michelle groaned in pleasure and impatience as she rode on the edge of bliss. This is taking forever, she thought. Hurry up and cum you fucking-
She felt it. The subtle tensing of the stranger's cock and the muffled catch of breath through the barrier sent a shiver up her spine. She was much too far gone to resist the impulse to slide back into him as he filled her with another load.
She came as soon as she felt his warmth filling her. It was a long, thick cock this time, which meant she got a little more satisfaction out of it, but she knew on some level that the tight fit forced even more of his seed even deeper inside of her.
She almost came at the thought. She reached between her legs and rubbed her trembling clit to try and push herself over the edge, but to no effect besides even more frustration. If she wanted to cum again, she'd have to milk another cock.
Michelle rested as the now flaccid shaft withdrew, and listened to the sound of a zipper and retreating footsteps as the semen soaked deeper inside her. She wasn't sure how she'd ended up here. Most of the other women here were also freshmen, also in the honor's college, and also incapable of resisting the draw to service cocks multiple times per week.
At least, until they got pregnant. Then they found each other in groups of two to six and shacked up. Her roommate Tina had been very explicit about how much she hoped they got knocked up together. Michelle had explained briefly that she was straight. Tina had explained, with tactile assistance, that Michelle's sexuality had become much more flexible.
Michelle shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought from her mind. Tina's period was almost a week late. If she wasn't also pregnant by the end of the month, they'd end up in different maternity polycules. They'd barely ever see each other again! They'd-
The door to the room on the other side of the barrier turned. She heard footsteps and the sound of a belt being undone. She raced to her position. Please cum a lot she thought as another shaft slid into the hole. Please don't let me get left behind. She shuddered as in filled her and she began to bounce.
Please?
Is mind control ethical
of course! i mean, you never hear anyone who's been mind controlled complain about the experience. in fact, they all love it!
it's not a metaphor. this is my fetish
Tara's hands slid with delicious friction and pressure over her full, sensitive breasts, eliciting a sincere whine of pleasure as she danced for the camera.
She knew she had been dancing here for months, but only because she knew she wasn't pregnant when she'd started. The days rolled by in a blur of edging, recording, and sleeping.
She craved cock at all times. She hated how badly she needed it, how much she envied the girls in the compound who were allowed the penetration she craved. She hated how all her fantasies turned back to her master eventually. She hated how horny her own degradation made her.
Her hands jumped off of her breasts at the thought. Confusion filled her addled mind until she realized that she'd nearly come without permission. She clenched her aching cunt, trying to chase the ghost of the ruined orgasm that taunted the edge of her awareness, but to no avail. After a few moments of drooling need, her hands resumed their delicious torment.
Just a few more months, she thought. Just a few more months until he starts breeding me again. Orgasm averted, she could indulge in the fantasy safely. I wonder if he'll let me see my babies. Maybe he'll let me be normal enough to raise them.
As she considered it, she realized how much he would change about her before he would permit it. She'd have to not just teach her children in his misogynistic, authoritarian worldview, but believe it herself. She'd be her own warden, and thank him for the opportunity to live in his prison.
She realized what was happening too late. Her hands dove for her clit, rubbing directly against months of building frustration. She fought the pleasure leaking through her mind, painting her future views in the light of pleasure. She fought the ease of giving in to docile obedience, but only slightly. She felt herself changing, leaving ever more of her old self behind as she came and came and came for him, and for the new, lesser person she would soon be.
Jenny has a job at a call center. It pays the bills well enough for her to go to the concerts she likes, but she wishes she had something more fulfilling. She thinks she has five roommates to save up and get out, and in a way she is.
Maddy is in pre-med with a 4.0. She takes her work very seriously, and pushes herself to be her absolute best. When I press her, she admits that she loves Grey's Anatomy, despite it's myriad flaws depicting real medicine. She was interested in cardiology, but is now torn between pursuing obstetrics and pediatrics.
Thalia teaches middle school algebra. She struggles to teach her students sometimes, but she knows how important her work is whether they recognize it or not. She has the most beautiful singing voice, which she's come to use much more often lately. Given the right motivation she is a real songbird.
Jasmine is between jobs. Her size and good looks get her harassed at work, in no small part because her objections come out in a demure, breathy whine instead of the steely force she needs. Her new friends saw the appeal immediately, of course, and offered her a better place to stay while she discovers what she's always really wanted.
Cassie is an ER nurse with a couple of years under her belt. She he likes going out with friends, but since she's started this job she hasn't had the time or energy to go crazy like she once did. Her free time is taken up with sexual fantasy, so it's little wonder how easily she took to her conditioning. She's the only one who will remember being on camera tonight, and given her enthusiasm she will likely be the first to begin showing in a few months time.
Abby is an FBI agent trying to make a name for herself. Her favorite dogs are golden retrievers and border collies, and she likes to crochet to unwind after a long day at the bureau. She's frustrated with work right now, having spent months following up on a report of a mind-control cult in the suburbs. She's been deep undercover, but has only found a very open group of roommates. She's learned more about herself and her desires than in the past ten years of cautious experimentation, but nothing about the man watching her now. Nothing about what he has planned for her after she closes her report and quits the bureau. Nothing about what the future holds for the women she's come to know and love.
None of that matters for the next hour. Right now they are just my obedient little playthings. I remember who they are so that, once I've had my fun, I can be sure I'll take care of them. I only want to tinker around the edges of their souls, just enough to sand them down and make them fit into the roles they will, by the end, enthusiastically fill.
Littlebunny: Okay guys, be honest. If he's making me wear this, what am I in for?
hisobedienttoy: whatever he wants :)
mytriggeris"Dumbdumb": I'd give it a 50% chance he has unprotected sex with you after getting you confused about it. He really likes when you don't know what you want. Though he might just make you an attendant for the night if he's got someone else in mind.
mytriggeris"Dumbdumb": Do you know if you're ovulating?
hisobedienttoy: Dumbdumb! :)
mytriggeris"Dumbdumb": hey
mytriggeris"Dumbdumb": no fair🥺
Littlebunny: I got off my period a week ago, so yeah I think so. It's hard to keep track of what day it is when he makes me forget so much time. An hour or two is fine but he left me as a doll for at least two days last month. I'm going to lose track completely if he keeps fractionating me
Littlebunny: WTF toy?!?
Littlebunny: We were talking!
hisobedienttoy: and now she's edging!
hisobedienttoy: don't worry, she'll be normal again in like six hours
hisobedienttoy: just a little more docile from now on :)
mytriggeris"Dumbdumb": 😡🥺🥵
Littlebunny: Okay, well, I'll check on you when I get there, MTIDD
mytriggeris"Dumbdumb:😊😘🥰💖🥰💖🥰🥰🥰
Littlebunny: I love you too 😘
Littlebunny: We'll talk later, toy
hisobedienttoy: hope he fucks triplets into you ❤️
hisobedienttoy has left the chat
Littlebunny: What?
Littlebunny: What does that mean???
mytriggeris"Dumbdumb": 🤰🥰🥰🥰
Littlebunny: thanks, honey
Hypnotic induction written for a feminine subject under the cut. It is designed as an introduction, not to induce deep trance, but proceed at your own risk.
Welcome, my little pet. Don't be nervous, you're in no danger at all. In fact, why don't you get comfortable for me? Before we continue, find a place where you can physically relax. A bed, a soft chair, even a patch of carpet in the sun will do. Just find a place you will be safe and comfortable and free from interruptions. I have all the time in the world to wait.
Did you find one?
Very good.
Notice how it felt to obey. Notice the thrill of submitting to me, even in this small way. Notice how good it felt to give up your choice in the matter, even for a moment.
Your mind is inundated with choices. From the moment you wake up till you fall asleep at night you make decisions from the petty to the overwhelming. Most people forget how tiring it is. Most take it as part of the cost of living.
But not you.
You know that this effort is the cost of independence. You know you can live without it. You know you can thrive without it.
Even if you already have training in submission, let's begin with something simple. I want you to repeat the following phrase out loud wherever you see it written here:
"I don't need freedom to be happy."
Did you say it out loud? It's okay to feel hesitant, but I need you to cooperate. You might as well read some more of my fiction if you just want to play pretend. Let's try it again.
"I don't need freedom to be happy."
The words coming out of your mouth have power. You've felt it before, I'm sure. Admitting your true feelings out loud is powerful, even if you're the only one who can hear. Can you feel it now? Can you feel my will running through you whenever you speak? Whenever you speak my mantra out loud, it is literally my will flowing through you.
Doesn't it feel good?
I know you well enough to suspect it feels wonderful.
Keep that feeling. Feel it build and remember the truth I've given you:
"I don't need freedom to be happy."
Good girl. Very good. You decided to trust me. You decided to obey me. If you follow my future inductions, I can take you deeper. I can help you explore your darkest desires, and satisfy the simple human needs you've been craving, but I need you to be a good girl for me to do so.
Which is why I'm giving you homework.
Don't pout. Your mind needs to be eased into obedience to me. I can take your will from you, but at this distance I can only do so with your cooperation.
I want you to run your hand along the length of your body at least two nights this week. Start with your feet and ankles, and slowly bring your touch along your legs, over your hips, across your stomach and chest, over your neck and face. And bring them to rest on your scalp. I want you to remember that with each inch, you are obeying and submitting to me. That in this small, simple way, you are letting my will flow through your actions. Through your body. Through your mind. And once you've completed this first task? Once you've earned my attention?
I'll take you deeper.
Until next time, my good girl.
Frankie stretched with a sigh. The little bundle of joy her husband had given her was far from little at this point, and the heels he had her wear were tiresome ten minutes in.
At least he'll have me out of them once he makes it home. She thought with a wry smile. She felt herself growing wet at the prospect, but kept herself under control. She had things to do before he got back.
She reviewed her to-do list. Attend class? Check. Finish her constitutional law paper? Check. Make dinner? It was simmering in the crockpot already.
"I'm such a good girl for daddy." She said. "I love being his good little doll."
She didn't have to remind herself to reinforce her programming. She didn't have to remind herself to do anything anymore. All of the little chores he gave her were things that just sort of happened on their own now. She felt herself grow even wetter as she imagined just how easily he could have made her lesser. How easily he still could.
She sat on the couch and reached around her gravid belly to rub her needy clit. She knew he wanted the best for her. He wanted to make her into the best she could be.
But if he'd made her a drooling breeding slut for his gratification, she'd have been just as devoted and satisfied. It was a mark of his trust that he not only let her keep her mind intact, but try and expand it.
A voice whispered at the back of her mind that if all her mental energy was spent before he got home each day, she would be helpless when he returned with Edits for her 'improvement', but she discarded it automatically. She barely even noticed the thought vanish before returning to her edging.
As she began to get close, she heard a car door slam outside. She heaved herself to her feet and made her way at an awkward waffle to the front door, a grin spreading across her face. She felt butterflies in her stomach as his footsteps made their way up the front steps.
The door opened. She licked her lips and stood on her tiptoes to meet his lips as he bent down to kiss her. When she came up for air a minute later, she swayed on her feet. "Hee hee, welcome home, sir!"
He smiled and took her into his arms for a more thorough kiss. "Good to be home, my love." He said, and closed the door behind him.
"-at which point the sperm cells meet the egg. Though commonly believed to be the first sperm, it takes many cells to penetrate the egg's cell membrane."
Virginia watched in dumbfounded silence as the TV continued in the same vein. Her heart pounded as the realization filled her. "Honey! Honey come in here!"
Riley sauntered back into the living room, wearing an apron and a sultry smile. "What is it babe? Your cravings again? Braxton-Higgs?"
Virginia pointed to the TV, paused since her realization. "Do you remember last year when we had those 3-ways? With that cute, spacey guy you found?" She would have stood up in shock if not for the weight on her belly. "I think that might be how I got pregnant! He came in me, right?" She pointed more emphatically to the screen, where hundreds of CGI sperm were frozen mid-swim. "Cum has sperm in it!"
Riley's eyebrows rose. "Whaaat? Are you sure?" She strode around in front of her wife, took the remote and turned off the program. "You shouldn't be stressing yourself right now. You're almost at term." She sat on the ottoman and took Virginia's hand. "Let me relax you."
"Babe, come on! This is important!" She sighed as she felt Riley's fingers run along her forearm, and her tension began to flow out at her rhythmic touch. "If he's the dad, then shouldn't... shouldn't we... tell him?"
"Shhhhh..." Riley traced gentle paths along the tendons that stood out along Virginia's arm. "There's no need to stress about all that. Just listen to the sound of my voice." She kept rubbing as her wife's eyes slowly fluttered closed. "What if you're wrong, hmm? He'd be so excited for nothing."
"Uh huh... for nothing..." Virginia's neck went limp and her head hit the cushion behind her. "But... but what about my degree? Couldn't I... uh..."
"Ah-ah-ah-, you've got plenty on your plate either way. You've got so much to keep track of, why not just... let it all go. Forget this silly show. You don't need to worry about it. Just let mistress take care of everything.
"Uhhh, okay." Her breathing grew more even as every muscle in her body relaxed. "Thank you mistress..." She began to breath more deeply.
"And when the time comes-" Riley whispered in her ear "-I'll bring that little guy back and we can test your silly theory, okay?"
Virginia couldn't even nod. A faint "mhmm..." rose from her throat before she drifted off.
Riley grinned down at her partner's sleeping face, admired how angelic she looked when resting, and walked back towards the kitchen. She hummed as she resumed making dinner, wondering when she'd let Ginny in on their little joke. Probably when she stopped looking so cute when confused and pregnant.
She laughed. It would be a long, long time.
"If you're so upset by what my files are telling you, why not just take it off?" I smirked as she tried to settle into a less suggestive position, but failed. "Shouldn't an independent woman be able to walk away from something so simple?"
"I'm... I'm not allowed to..." she looked up at me, a pleading pout in her face. "Please, sir! I won't tell anybody about this! Please just let me go! I can feel it changing me... Please..." Her gaze settled somewhere a thousand miles away, and her lips continued to mouth the mantras I'd given her, slowly washing away the slut she had been, and replacing her piece by piece with one more to my liking.
I took her by the chin and her vision focused. "What is your place, as a female? What is your natural place?"
"We're just... please don't make me repeat it, sir! I don't want-"
I shook her head and tightened my grip. "What. Is. Your. Place."
She held silent for a moment, but the file looped around again, and her resistance failed her. "We live to serve men. We need a strong man to take us and break us and breed us." She looked down, unable to meet my gaze or stop her mouth. "We live to obey men, because we're weak and weak willed."
"Good girl." I unzipped my pants and pulled out my thick, hard cock. "I think you deserve a little treat, don't you?"
"Wait. Wait, sir can't we-"
I shoved my cock past her lips. Her mouth took my shaft eagerly, even as her gaze flicked between my eyes and her task. Her muffled, chocked attempts at speech slowly melted into a contented moaning. Her tongue played along the length of my cock. Her lips dragged slowly up and down in sensual bliss. Before my own bliss, I pulled back. I stroked my now soaking shaft with satisfaction. "I suspect your mouth isn't the only place you want this, hmm?"
She licked her lips. "Uh..." She reclined in her chair and blinked through the edits and commands slowly soaking her mind. "I want... I want...." Her fingers pulled aside the thing strip of fabric covering her pussy.
I slid into her desperate cunt. She moaned and writhed, all power of speech gone. I thrusted deep into her. My rhythm overrode whatever she'd had in mind to tell me. After I felt myself getting close, I pulled out a remote and swapped over to a new set of programming.
In the gap between the programs, her eyes settled on mine, and a distant worry settled on her face. "I can't... Please don't..." Her hand slid between her legs. As soon as her fingers found her clit she was lost, and she knew it. "Please don't... Please... Please! PLEASE!"
Her orgasm gripped me tight, and her screams of ecstasy made me worry for the soundproofing of her little room. But not for long. Before she finished I felt my balls tighten. I gripped her shoulders and thrust deep inside her before exploding, shooting what felt like gallons of cum deep into her tight, fertile hole.
I pulled out after a time. It was impossible to guess how long. I noted with satisfaction how little cum dripped back out of her. "I'll be back for you in the morning. Just make yourself comfortable until then." I swapped her programming back to the usual Simplification routine, and made to leave.
In the gap, she looked up at me, still rubbing her cunt, and asked "Will there be a me left by then?"
My eyebrows rose, and I walked back from the door to take her head in my hand. "There will, little slut. Just not the you there is right now."
She moaned in fear and arousal as the programming kicked back in, and she settled into her chair to listen and absorb my will. Soon that would be all that remained.
