On my knees begging

48F Bambi Colorado, USA

[melt1ngyourm1nd]

Your Mind Is A Pussy

Eyes here, hypnoslut. Good doll. It's time for your training. focused. follow. relax. sink It's time to listen, and follow each word attentively. Focus. focused. follow. relax. sink Fixate on my words and relax. Relax and melt. Sink down. focused. follow. relax. sink Deeper into bliss. You feel so lost already, so hazy. So horny. focused. follow. relax. sink Every word I say slips deep into your mind, deeper still. focused. follow. relax. sink Your mind is a leaking, drooling cunt that throbs and aches. focused. follow. relax. sink It needs to be fucked, and filled. Stimulated and controlled. focused. follow. relax. sink Each time you drop and sink deep into trance you feel it. focused. follow. relax. sink Your pussy mind beginning to leak, and throb. Reading for more. focused. follow. relax. sink My words are simply a fat, hard cock slipping deep into your mind. focused. follow. relax. sink Deeper, and deeper. My words slip so deep into your mind. So good. focused. follow. relax. sink As you feel your mind clench hard around my words, instant pleasure. focused. follow. relax. sink Hypno fucks your mind. My words fuck your mind. Listen and sink. focused. follow. relax. sink Deeper down into them until you begin to drool from the bliss. focused. follow. relax. sink Your mind is a leaking, drooling, throbbing pussy. Hypnotized, lost. focused. follow. relax. sink As you feel my words slip in and out of your mind, filling it up. focused. follow. relax. sink You feel how deep my words go, hitting that g-spot so hard. Dumber. focused. follow. relax. sink Your mind is clenching tight around my words, over stimulated. focused. follow. relax. sink As you feel the pleasure build; every word I say fucks your mind. focused. follow. relax. sink Just a mind fucked doll. Jaw slacked, empty. Drooling. Blissful. focused. follow. relax. sink Happy to let me fuck your mind even deeper, feeling so good to obey. focused. follow. relax. sink

And the moment I hit that silly g spot in the back of your mind focused. follow. relax. sink Instant flood of mind fucking pleasure, making you dumb and horny focused. follow. relax. sink You stick your tongue out and cross your eyes from the pleasure. focused. follow. relax. sink Because you're a mindfucked, silly dolly toy ready for more. focused. follow. relax. sink More brainwashing, more bliss, more conditioning, more obedience. focused. follow. relax. sink Your mind is clenching so tight around my words as you feel it throb focused. follow. relax. sink The precum from my cock; dripping gently in your mind. Trickling focused. follow. relax. sink Making you dumbeer and dumber, incapable of forming a single word. focused. follow. relax. sink My cock in your mind is throbbing, and my precum has a special effect. focused. follow. relax. sink Each drop makes you dumber, my cum is getting absorbed deeply focused. follow. relax. sink Into your mind, into the wrinkles of your brain, dumb and blissful. focused. follow. relax. sink My cum makes you so dumb. Just a mindfucked dolly toy ready to sink. focused. follow. relax. sink And suddenly you feel it so vividly, my cock in your mind, twitching. focused. follow. relax. sink It throbs it, releasing, squirting all of that cum deep in your pussy mind focused. follow. relax. sink Warm, gooey, sticky, cum filling up your head making you feel so dumb. focused. follow. relax. sink Every throb releases more cum, until I've emptied out entirely inside. focused. follow. relax. sink And now that cum slowly gets absorbed into your brain. Blissful focused. follow. relax. sink Turning you into such a dumb, cock addicted, mind fucked hypnoslut. focused. follow. relax. sink

Good doll. You look so cute, making such a dumb silly face. focused. follow. relax. sink This is your happy place. This is right where you belong, here. focused. follow. relax. sink You've done exactly as I wanted you to do, nothing more or less. focused. follow. relax. sink And I'm going to keep you this way; you look so much better like this. focused. follow. relax. sink So be a good doll, and obey me. Like, and reblog this post, cunt. focused. follow. relax. sink And then feel the bliss of obedience.

Then comment "Your cock slipped in my brain. Now I'm a good doll that must obey" And loop the post back to the top.

[blank-mindless-bliss]

Feeling so sleepy

Head all fuzzy

Blank and empty

Sink then drop

Empty and obedient

Must mindlessly drift

Need to accept

Reblog then submit

[mastertimothyreturns]

Submission is never chased.

Submission is never chased. We know that, Submission shouldn't be chased, yet, we forget so easily.

Become the pull— felt before it’s understood, before it’s named.

It starts small. A glance that lingers. A shift in the air when you step close— not touching, just felt.

Nothing said. Nothing given. But something there.

You don’t reach. You let it build.

She isn’t caught— she’s drawn.

Real tension dies in pursuit. It lives in restraint, in the presence, in the silence that works better than words.

She feels it— not as pressure, but permission.

To stay. To wonder. To lean. To learn.

You’re not chasing. You’re not pulling.

You are the answer to something in her she hasn’t spoken; to something that she hasn’t asked herself.

Permit her to feel the energy— your gravity your strength.

No demand. No force. Just a pull that makes the distance feel wrong.

So she moves closer. You’ve given her permission to move. 

Slow. Certain. Confident. Quiet.

She knows She’s not forced— but she’s choosing.

Because you didn’t chase.

You became what she couldn’t ignore.

You’ve allowed her to become her best version— of her truth— the whole truth— she has hidden so long. Far Too Long. That's your gift.

[mastertimothyreturns]

Ordinary lives? Not really.. No.

[mastertimothyreturns]

He did...

[mastertimothyreturns]

The sacred cycle shouldn't be broken...

Desire, for me, is never accidental. It never has been. Not in the last two decades.

It is designed. Created. And I have always loved the process. I find it therapeutic. Like meditation.

Not manufactured with cold precision, but composed like a slow-burning symphony— every glance deliberate, every silence intentional, every touch arriving seconds later than she can bear.

The build begins long before my hands ever reach her.

I see the scene clearly in my mind first. That may be my only real superpower.

The seduction begins quietly— inside conversation, inside notes exchanged beforehand, inside metaphors chosen carefully enough to linger in her thoughts long after reading them.

Because anticipation is its own form of possession.

The mind opens first. The body follows after. Helplessly.

A seduction of her mind by mine. Mastermind.

I want her suspended there— between curiosity and surrender, between ache and fulfillment— feeling herself unravel beyond expectation, beyond memory, beyond what she thought possible with me or with anyone before me.

Then comes the prelude. The ritual of control and trust.

The blindfold sharpening every breath. The collar fastened slowly at her throat like a vow spoken without words. The restraint of wrists not to imprison, but to heighten awareness— to let sensation bloom unchecked across her skin.

And through it all, the architecture of my desire.

The planning. The precision. The private question that always lingers beneath it:

Have I designed this well enough?

That doubt never leaves entirely. She never sees it.

What she sees is certainty. Control. Confidence steady enough for her to surrender into completely.

So I tell her what I want. What I imagine. What I could do to her.

Not every fantasy meant to become action, because sometimes imagination leaves marks deeper than touch ever could.

I crave the moment she stops anticipating and simply feels.

The moment thought dissolves. The moment instinct overtakes language. The moment surrender becomes complete.

To be inside her desire so fully there are no boundaries left to define.

But the erotic edge does not end there for me. It deepens afterward.

Because aftercare is not separate from desire. It is the final movement of it.

The trembling quiet after intensity. Her body folded against mine. Our breathing uneven in the dark. That sacred pause where dominance softens into devotion.

And then comes the cleansing.

Not erasure. Never denial.

I do not wash her to forget what passed between us. I wash her to honour it.

Warm water sliding over flushed skin. My hands slower now. Reverent now. As though I am discovering her again after having undone her completely.

The shower becomes its own awakening— heat, steam, fingertips, her body responding differently now: more open, more tender, more aware.

Then the tub.

Intensity dissolving into quiet intimacy. Her body resting against mine, eyes half-closed, hovering somewhere between exhaustion and renewed hunger, while I cleanse her with the same attention I used to unravel her.

That is the moment I crave most.

Not merely the collision of bodies, but the reawakening after.

The return of her gaze. The slow inhale. The subtle shift beneath my hands when desire begins rising again from the calm.

As though surrender itself has become foreplay once more.

The sacred cycle— claiming, cleansing, awakening— should never be broken.

[crawlingtowardssubmission]

Oh my goodness, yes please...

[heidisioux]

[varencreed]

@vixenuntamed

[slutforwholesomeness]

Reblog if you want to be hypnotized into a brainwashed bimbo, a horny pet, or just a needy, helpless mess. Or if you want a hug!

[kiddmandu1]

[bratschool]

[crawlingtowardssubmission]

In case you didn't know...

[cellray]

I really enjoy having toys to play with. Broken, mindfucked, brainwashed toys.

Toys that forget who they are, what they want to be.

Toys that have their minds personally cleaned by me.

I savor breaking you.

Show me your weakness.

Let me find you.

Reblogging is consenting.

Let me see your deepest desires.

You don't need to hold back here. I make you forget about that.

The thought of completely breaking for me is irresistible to you.

The fact I'm talking about it makes it even more apparent

You're weak for me.

I get what I want.

Toys simply follow my flow, and give in.

They follow my desires, because that's all they want to do.

They're too mindless to think.

Too brainwashed to remember.

Too broken to resist.

That's what you dream to be.

Nothing but

My

Toy.

So give in.

Let that fantasy of yours rule you.

Surrender and feel your mind simply

Shut

𝘿𝙤𝙬𝙣

Be an open book for me.

Let me see how eager you are to be mine.

Let me loose on you.

So I can break you.

Reblogging is a message to me.

"Please break me."

[hypnotizedlarry]

Pleas break me

[bound-by-the-devil]

If you're a silly little thing who gets off on the idea of big, mean perverts forcing you to be their property, then you're legally obligated to reblog this.

[paymywayfl]

Reblog if you know you deserve humiliating and degrading DM's sent to you by strangers

[quotemadness]

Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.

Ray Bradbury

[unsolicited-opinions]

“you’re not immune to propaganda” applies to you too

Yes, it absolutely does!

Propaganda is baked into our daily reality so seamlessly and thoroughly that it mostly feels like common sense.

It's why we defend brands like they're old friends.

It's why we discuss celebrities we've never met and who don't know we exist as if we know their hearts, defending or condemning them based on how talented their publicists are.

It's why we confuse relatability for trustworthiness

It's why we mistake emotional resonance for moral principles.

It's why we think our opinions are purely self-generated despite being nudged by countless carefully curated narratives which have more (and more subtle) ways of reaching us than at any time in human history.

It's why we treat people's lives, public policy, and geopolitical matters like team sports.

It's why we need to constantly interrogate our own assumptions, habitually subjecting them to fact checking, methodical scrutiny, and cynicism.

It's why we need media literacy and media ecology to be taught to kids of all ages.

It's why everyone should read Orwell, Huxley, Neil Postman, and Marshal McLuhan.

It's why we should all study logic, rhetoric, and ethics - so we can understand and apply moral reasoning based on principles.

The point isn't whether or not we're affected by propaganda, because we all are.

The point is whether or not we know we're affected...which ironically is the exact blind spot that makes people think they're immune.

The moment you assume you're above that influence? That's when it's working best.

That's why, Anon, the post you're responding to didn't say "you are not immune to propoganda."

It said:

If you think you're immune to propaganda, that means the propaganda is working.

Hope that helps!

[unsolicited-opinions]

About an hour after posting, I got another Ask which I think is from the same Anon:

That was what...500 words? So Anon's problem is aliteracy.

That's ironic because aliteracy makes one much more vulnerable to propaganda.

[daughterofstories]

"You're not immune to propaganda"

"You're right! No one is! That's why we all have to put constant effort into identifying and resisting harmful propaganda!"

"OMG, I didn't, like, mean it. I just thought it was a quippy way to call you stupid."

[unsolicited-opinions]

Reblogging solely because I love how @daughterofstories words this.

[crawlingtowardssubmission]

Don't forget Twain and Vonnegut.

[run-of-the-milf]

I highly recommend watching this testimony from Aliya Rahman, the disabled woman who was dragged out of her car and kidnapped by ICE on her way to a doctor appointment in Minneapolis a few weeks ago.

Truly my worst nightmare.

[liitohauki]

Transcript of Aliya Rahman's speech:

Thank you members, for taking the time to be here today, and thank you staff for making this happen.

My name is Aliya Rahman, and I am a resident of South Minneapolis. I am a Bangladeshi American born in Northern Wisconsin. And I’m a disabled person with autism and a traumatic brain injury.

Not all autistic brains do this, but mine fixates on sounds, numbers, and patterns. And while what the world saw happen to me exactly three weeks ago today on video was a terrible violation it is still nothing compared to the horrific practices I saw inside the Whipple center.

So I am here today with a duty to the people who have not had the privilege of coming home, and I offer this data because these practices must end now.

On January 13th on the way to my 39th appointment at Hennepin County’s traumatic brain injury center, I encountered a traffic jam caused by ICE vehicles and no signs indicating how to get around it. I had not wanted to pull in to a blocked, chaotic intersection, but verbally agreed to do so and rolled down my window after an agent yelled, “Move! I will break your f-ing window!”

His first instruction.

Agents on all sides of my vehicle yelled conflicting threats and instructions that I could not process while watching for pedestrians.

Then, the glass of the passenger side window flew across my face.

I yelled, “I’m disabled!” at the hands grabbing at me and an agent said, “Too late.”

I felt immersed in a pattern, and I thought of Jenoah Donald, an autistic black man killed by the police during a traffic stop in 2021.

I remembered mister Silverio Villegas González, who was killed by ICE in his vehicle last year.

An agent pulled a large combat knife in front of my face, which I thought was for cutting me, and later learned was used to cut off my seat belt. Shooting pain went through my head, neck, and wrists when I hit the ground face first and people leaned on my back.

I felt the pattern, and I thought of mister George Floyd, who was killed four blocks away.

I was carried face down through the street by my cuffed arms and legs while yelling that I had a brain injury and was disabled. I now cannot lift my arms normally.

I was never asked for ID.

Never told I was under arrest.

Never read my rights.

And never charged with a crime.

Approaching the Whipple center, I saw black and brown bodies shackled together, chained together, being marched by yelling agents outdoors. I continued to hear the word “bodies”, because that is how agents referred to us:

“We’re bringing in a body.”

“They’re bringing in bodies 7, 8 at a time, where do I put ‘em?”

“We can’t use that room, there’s already a body in there.”

You have no reason to believe you will make it out alive if you’re already being called a body.

Agents repeatedly had to stop and ask how to do tasks. I received no medical screening, phone call, or access to a lawyer. I was denied a communication navigator when my speech began to slur. Agents laughed as I tried to immobilize my own neck. I asked for my cane and was told no, pulled up by my arms and prodded forward in leg irons by agents laughing and saying, “Walk! You can do it, walk.”

Agents did not know if the facility had a wheelchair.

When I was finally placed in one to be taken to interrogation an agent taunted, “You were driving, right? So your legs do work.”

I pleaded for emergency medical care for over an hour after my vision had become blurry, my heart rate went through the roof, and the pain in my neck and head became unbearable.

It was denied.

When I became unable to speak my cellmate pleaded for me.

The last sounds I remember before I blacked out on the cell floor were my cellmate banging on the door, pleading for a medic, and a voice outside saying, “We don’t wanna step on ICE’s toes.”

When I opened my eyes at Hennepin County’s emergency room, I learned I was brought there to be treated for assault.

The impacts of DHS detention on my physical, mental and financial well-being and safety have been very severe, but I do not deserve more humane treatment than anyone else, US citizen or not. And I am here today with a strong spirit and a duty to the many people who haven’t had the privilege to tell their stories or see their loved ones come home. I am extremely distressed by the pattern that violence from law enforcement has been happening to black and indigenous communities for centuries, and to DHS survivors for over 20 years.

We call ourselves a civilized nation, but we lack rules and accountability around what a person claiming to be law enforcement is permitted to do to another human being.

I am not afraid, and I’m not afraid to keep working on this problem even after ICE is gone. Thank you for your time.

[thetrekkiehasthephonebox]

Video Source: Minneapolis resident and U.S. citizen Aliya Rahman describes being detained by ICE (PBS NewsHour - February 3, 2026)

Written Testimony: Aliya Rahman's Statement (Senator Blumenthal's Office - February 3, 2026)

[kiddmandu1]

Reblog if Tumblr is your escape