18+ Only 💙🥀 NSFW 🥀💙 IF YOU DONT HAVE YOUR AGE ON YOUR BIO I WILL BLOCK YOU BLANK PROFILES AS WELL. IM 58 No Minors .....Period !!! DESIRES, FANTASIES, Thoughts & Ramblings of a submissive woman that has had too much reality and so i use this as a way to escape. .... Things i see that id love to try or have done to me I am 61 F w/a bit of a kinky side not sure exactly how to describe my mix of fetishes & kinks so i just post some of this and some of that.....and a touch of silly to compliment my darkness because it gets really dark when im stuck in my head. Submissive through and through to my very core. it is what i am, need to be and the only thing that helps is my love for sexual domination and being tied up to escape my own minds bondage. not masochistic and know what i wont put up with...been through to much to go backwards now. So dont think i wont block someone who tries to get stupid. play nice or dont play at all. My blog is judgment free Everyone has the right to be who they are and live, love, and play how they choose...consent is not optional that includes the right to say no online also.... CONSENT IS NECESSARY IN ALL SITUATIONS.... i own only the rights to the photos of myself all the other images ...gifs and memes have been reblogged or borrowed. ...or copied i claim no rights to them. this is my first blog of three....this is my original blog...
It’s been a few days since I picked you up from work.
Well, from behind your work. You were just getting off- taking the trash around back- and I slipped a cloth over your mouth.
It wasn’t even a full dose- I didn’t even knock you out! I’d never do that to you, you know that. I just knew it would make it easier for you to fall into my arms. The way you were meant to. And it did. It made it easier to get you in my car.
Okay- Sure, I never managed to work up the nerve to talk to you- but I listened! I listened so good I could hear the things you weren’t even saying between the things you did say.
Like your job- you hated it.
Like your car- it wasn’t running right.
And you wanted to come home with me- so I made it happen.
Now you laid in your bed, decorated with a few things I had taken from your room. Nothing you’d notice- but I wanted your blankets to be familiar. And your clothes to be your size. There was a few books, stuffed animals- the things you couldn’t live without. After all, this was your new bedroom- not a prison.
But you just screamed. It was a horrid sound- and that’s why you’re now wearing that gag.
Honestly though- I think you’re prettier in it. Yeah, the leather really compliments your eyes.
Anyways. You weren’t even grateful for the food I made you- and I know it’s the exact flavor you like! The wrappers make up like, half your trash. Speaking of, I got you a brand new hairbrush- since you broke yours this morning and threw it away.
See? I brought you your favorite things- bought you brand new things- and yet you still flinch whenever I move towards you!
So, I remind myself that you just need time. Time is something we have in abundance, my dear. I will watch, and I will wait- I am good at that. For now, I leave you with your room, the cameras- and your wrist cuffed to the bed post.
Maybe after a few days you will be more grateful- and not bite my tongue when we kiss. Hopefully by then, it’s healed- because I plan to use it.
Times Up. The room is dim. Expensive furniture reduced to shapes in the darkness. The only sound besides your own breathing is a quiet hum from a digital timer mounted on the opposite wall. Red numerals glow in the gloom: 00:59:57.
Just under one hour.
"You're awake." The voice comes from somewhere near the door. You crane your neck, wrists already testing the leather restraints, and watch him step into the faint light. You don't know his face. But you recognize the way his eyes move over your body. Roaming. An inventory assessment.
He's carrying things. Metal glints.
"The rules are simple," he says, approaching the bed. His footsteps are unhurried. "When the timer hits zero, I undo the restraints. The door opens. You leave." He pauses at the edge of the mattress, looking down at you. "One small addition."
Cold metal touches your nipple. You gasp as he fastens the clamp, the bite sharp and immediate, radiating heat straight down to your core. The second clamp follows. You arch involuntarily, straining against the leather.
He produces a vibrator. Sleek. Expensive looking. You watch him lower it between your legs, watch the silicone part your folds and settle against your clit. He turns it on.
"Every time you cum, an hour gets added to the clock."
You look at the timer. You look at yourself. Spread open, clamped, vibrating.
One hour. You can do one hour. You just have to not cum.
He steps back. Settles into a chair at the side of the bed and watches.
You try to focus on the numbers. Try to think about other things. Work emails. Grocery lists. The pattern of shadows on the ceiling.
But the clamps send sharp little signals with every breath. The vibrator hums against flesh that's growing wetter by the minute. You clench your jaw. Breathe through your nose. Don't cum. Don't cum.
He hasn't moved. He's just watching.
Your hips twitch. You didn't tell them to. The pressure is building low in your belly, a warmth that spreads and tightens simultaneously. You're wet enough now that the vibrator glides, hits new angles.
You bite your lip until you taste blood.
The numbers blur. 00:47:23. You've been holding on for twelve minutes. It feels like hours. Your thighs are trembling. Your breath comes in sharp little gasps you can't control.
He knows. You can see it in his stillness. The way he's leaned forward slightly. Waiting.
"No," you whisper. To yourself. To your body. To the orgasm building like a wave you can't outswim.
It hits you anyway. Your back arches off the bed, a sound tears out of your throat that you don't recognize, and you're cumming so hard your vision goes white at the edges. It rolls through you in pulses, each one a betrayal, each one exquisite.
When you can see again, you look at the clock.
01:46:12
"Impressive effort," he says. He's standing now, holding a remote. "Let's try a different setting."
The vibration changes. Pulsing now. It mimics something. A heartbeat. A thrust. Your overstimulated clit throbs in response, too sensitive, too raw, and somehow already building again.
"No... please.." you gasp out, the words weak.
"Please what?" He moves closer. His fingers trail along your inner thigh, impossibly light. "Please make you cum again?" He dips a finger into the wetness pooling between your legs, holds it up so you can see. "You're dripping. Your body knows what it wants."
You shake your head. But your hips are rocking against the vibrator, tiny movements you can't seem to stop.
This time when you cum, you're crying. Tears streaming down your temples into your hair. The clock resets: 02:38:47.
He fucks you for the first time somewhere around hour four.
Slow, at first. Long strokes that let you feel every inch, that build friction to an unbearable degree while the vibrator keeps humming against your clit. You cum on his cock within minutes. The clock adds another hour. He doesn't stop. Doesn't even pause.
He switches to something harder. Brutal. Each thrust punches the air out of your lungs, drives you up the bed until the restraints catch. You cum again. You can't help it. Your body has stopped consulting you. It just responds. Takes. Shatters.
He introduces other things. Hot wax pooling in the hollow of your throat, dripping down between your breasts. Ice traced along your inner thighs until you're shivering and burning at once. His mouth on your cunt, tongue flicking precisely where the vibrator has made you most sensitive, most ruined.
He talks through it the whole way. That's probably the worst part. "You get wetter when you're scared." "That's three in a row. You're getting efficient." "We have so much time now."
The clock climbs. Six hours. Eight. Twelve. You stop being able to track it. The numbers lose meaning. Everything loses meaning except the next wave, the next peak, the next hour added to your sentence.
Somewhere in the blur, you realize you've stopped wanting it to end.
The thought surfaces between orgasms, when you're floating in that shattered space where language doesn't quite work. You should want to escape. You remember wanting that, vaguely, like a dream you had as a child. But the wanting has curdled into something else.
He slows down. You're not sure when. The frantic edge bleeds away, replaced by something almost gentle. The vibrator stops. He removes the clamps. Your nipples throb with the renewed blood flow, a pain that registers as pleasure now. Everything registers as pleasure now.
You blink at the clock. 00:06:43.
Six minutes. After everything. How?
He's undoing the restraints. Your wrists fall free. Your ankles. You can move. You can leave.
The thought sends ice through your veins.
Leave? Leave this room? Leave him? Go back to a world where no one touches you like this, where you're responsible for your own orgasms, where pleasure is something you have to chase instead of something that hunts you down and devours you?
The silence of outside presses against the walls. Empty. Ordinary. Unbearable.
He steps back. Gestures toward the door. "It's almost time."
Your hand moves own between your legs, finding your clit, swollen and slick and excruciatingly sensitive. You rub with clumsy desperation, chasing the build.
"Don't," you hear yourself say. Begging. Sobbing. "Don't make me leave. Please. I need to cum. I need more time."
He goes still. Watching you fuck yourself on his bed, desperate to add another hour to your captivity. The pressure is building fast, your ruined body trained now, eager.
"Let me stay. I'll be good. I'll cum as many times as you want. Just don't make me go."
Four minutes on the clock.
Your fingers work faster. You're so close. So close to another hour in this room, in this darkness, in this endless cycle of being broken and put back together wrong.
Shhhhhh just fulfilling that gross little fantasy you keep posting about. Don't worry after this you'll be able to rub this pretty pussy know just how it felt to have multiple cocks in you at once.
the sex appeal of paralytic drugs btw. your dom holding you down and giving you a quick injection, then watching as your frantic struggles become weaker in seconds. you go limp, no longer able to move, nothing more than a doll for them to play with. they don't need to tie you up. you're not getting away.
and even though you might look quite lifeless, they know you're still conscious. they know you can feel everything.
I want to be molested. I want strong hands all over me. I want men to touch me against my will and when I resist they'd grope me harder. I want them to rub my pussy against my wet undies, to feel their bulge throbbing on my ass, their breaths on my neck. Ugh. Molest me. Make me hate you. Make me hate myself. Make me feel loved and worthless at the same time.
Letting things vanish isn't as hard as you'd think. Of course, an apprentice needs a lot of practice, but they'd be able to learn it within a few weeks.
You didn't know this at first, of course. But he's been watching you. You sit at your usual spot at the café with your books. Sometimes you come here to stury, sometimes just to read or to watch the people come and go.
And he watches you. Thinking about all the things that could disappear in you. Like his cock in your pussy. He knows you probably wouldn't like to get hit on... but maybe, there's another way.
He studies magic. The best real magicians of the country teach at his school. He just started, all he can do yet is to move stuff with his telekinesis, read a few seconds of the future, basic spells. But he's getting better fast, becoming the best of his class.
And you are his motivation. Crazy, right? But it's true! He studies very hard. And then finally, he's skilled enough to fulfill a fantasy of his. He practised at moving things from one place to another. Here and then, in the blink of an eye, it's somewhere else. He practised until he can move an object to a location so exact that even his teachers have been impressed.
He's in the café. A small sized buttplug is in the bag he brought with him. Can you imagine where it will end up? He puts the backpack on his lap to hide his growing erection. Then he opens it, reaches inside and smears some lube on the plug.
Concentrating very hard, the slippery plug disappears from his hand.
You squeak when it suddenly fills your ass. Your breath comes out in pants, all muscles clench, including your sphincter. It clenches hard around the base of the plug. A plug that wasn't there a moment ago.
Now is not the place to panic, you tell yourself.
You never had anything up your ass before, had you? Poor thing. Filled so suddenly. Lucky for you he chose a small plug.
Maybe if you never come here again, you'll be safe? That's what you think when you rush home and lock yourself in the bathroom to examine what's been done to you.
In the mirror you can see that the base of the plug is jeweled. You clench again. Your pussy got wet from walking home so fast with your ass stuffed full. Do you think he knows?
Will the plug disappear again? Probably not. You'll have to pull it out yourself. Your body is already accustomed to the intruder. You still want it gone, of course.
You take a deep breath and pull, moaning a little bit when the widest part slips free.
You avoid the café for weeks. But still, you're curious. The feeling of the plug inside you wasn't... horrible. You could put it in again; maybe you have.
One day you go back, sit in the same spot again and nothing happens. I bet you're disappointed now, are you? Slut. You keep coming back.
And the small plug doesn't stay the only thing he puts in you. The next time is about three days after you come back. A small sized plug again. Then a medium sized when you stayed put with the small one in for an hour. A medium one again. And again. You collection of buttplugs grows.
A big one, but not while you're at the café. It suddenly stretches your ass wide one night while you're studying at your desk. You get so aroused now, your pussy's dripping wet. You sit with it inside your ass for as long as you can stand it.
The plugs are always lubed up, always high-quality. You can't tell anyone of course. What would you say? Butplugs keep apprearing inside my ass? No way. So this has become your dirty little secret. You orgasmed more than once with a plug deep inside of you and your fingers rubbing furiously at your clit.
Tonight will be different.
You're studying again at your desk. That's why you don't notice the rope sneaking at you like a snake. It's fast and efficient and before you know it, the rope wrapped around your wrists, pulled them behind your back and fastened. Next your clothes disappear, you're sitting naked at your desk. A blindfold materializes.
The way you don't scream for help tells a lot about how you've been trained to be like this. How you accept this new thing happening to you.
You expect a plug to appear inside your ass, not a cock. But a cock is what you get. With a swoosh of air, you're on his lap, his cock inside you without even pushing in. He sits in your chair now.
He moans into your ear from behind you when you clench at the sudden intrusion. The cock is bigger than the biggest plug you had in you in the last few weeks and now you realize what's been happening. He'd trained your ass for this, so he could fuck you. Fuck your ass. You can't even see him.
He holds you by the waist as he starts to move you. His cock is inside your ass balls deep. He pushes you upwards so it slips free before letting you fall down onto it again.
It's an incredible feeling. You're so full. The friction is so, so good. You moan.
He chuckles, "I knew you'd like this, slut." He moves you up and down his cock faster. "What other girl would just accept the plugs I kept appearing in your cute, right ass, huh? Only a slut."
"Like I had ah- ah-", you moan when he starts pushing up into you at the same time he loweres you onto his hard, thick member. "Choice", you ground out. He starts playing with your nipples and slowes his pace.
"Right", he says and tweaks a nipple, making you squeak. "But still, you liked it. I could see it in your eyes and face. You trained leaving it in. You kept squirming in your seat while it was inside you, stretching you out for me. I saw it. Only I knew there was a plug deep in you."
The mental image makes you moan again. He knows. Of course, you should've known this.
He stands up, taking you with him, impaled on his cock as you are and bends you over your own desk. One hand on your back holds you down while he starts fucking you in earnest, pistoning in and out of your ass at a fact pace.
He reduces you to a moaning mess in no time. His thick cock is doing incredible things to you. You come two times during this fuck. And then, at last, he pushes in all the way and stays still while his semem pumps into you.
The second his cock pulls out, a plug appears. "Wouldn't want to waste a drop, would we?" he asks.
When you don't answer, he tweaks your nipple again and starts playing with the base of the plug.
"Of couese not", you say.
"Good girl", he praises you. "Leave it in for at least an hour", he instructs. Then he's gone, together with the rope and the blindfold. You sink back onto your chair, it's a mess of juices. You're naked, your pussy's dripping wet, ass full.
He will be back.
Please consider leaving a tip for me on ko-fi :) I appreciate it!
andulkaphoto
jacobvanloon
2087
origamiaround
titsay
annaxmalina
