Name: [EXPUNGED]
Designation: Laci
Physical template: Bimbo/full
Behavioural template: Good Girl Template 6
Current status: In public use
Offence: Repeated instances of troublemaking, repeated instances of distributing misinformation in violation of the Controlled Truth laws, repeated instances of disrupting the peace and startling Good Girls.
[EXPUNGED] was given numerous opportunities to willingly submit to re-education but refused, resulting in enforced templating. In light of her lack of remorse and active hostility to the proceedings the maximum of both physical and behavioural was decided on.
Evaluation: [EXPUNGED] took to conversion remarkably easily, showing only a .6% level of deviation from the behavioural template and negligible levels of resistance while the reprogramming was taking place. This boded well for Laci’s performance and she has not disappointed. Feedback from users has been overwhelmingly positive, and while [EXPUNGED] was widely known as a caustic influence, Laci - by contrast - is a boon to the community and infinitely more valuable.
Recommendation: It is felt that for now it would better benefit the community to keep Laci in public circulation and out of private ownership. In light of this, the Council will be turning down most petitions out of hand.
Those who want to use Laci will just have to wit their turn like everyone else.
Her eyes look empty, now. Not full of intelligence like they used to be.
That didn’t happen overnight. None of this happened overnight. It was gradual. Little by little she was pulled away from what she was and gently pushed towards what she is now, what she was always meant to be. Corrected, you might say.
By the time she noticed what was happening it was already far too late. She knew what was going on and what she was going to end up being, but she also knew - had it burnt as a fact into her brain - that she would have to ask permission for it to stop.
And she did. And she was refused. Correction continued.
That’s all passed, now. There’s no going back. She doesn’t want to go back now. What little bits of the old hers he can remember are scary to her now, confusing. She wants to forget them. She says thank you every time another scary, confusing memory is scrubbed out from her head. She says thank you and smiles a little wider, lets out that vapid little moan she makes so often these days.
And if you look in her eyes now you won’t see much of anything at all. Adoration, maybe, a simple and bovine kind of love. The love of something that wants to be told it’s good, to get a pat on the head.
If you look very closely though - very closely indeed - you might have just a little glimmer of something. Just a hint. And do you know what that is?
It’s the last hint of shame. The very last fragment of awareness she has that she used to be another way, that she used to be more than this, could have been more than this. It’s small, but it’s there.
Emily’s parents were worried about her. They’d tried their best to raise her right, help her to accept her station in life without complaint. But still she insisted on acting up – insisting on ‘going to university’, insisting on 'having a career’.
They were at their wits end when a friend of theirs (who’d had the same trouble with their son’s girlfriend) recommend a tutor they could hire to help straighten her out.
Of course Emily wasn’t happy about it, but that was to be expected. She was, for now, a willful girl. That was the problem.
Their first meeting did not go the way she’d planned. In her head she had imagined herself holding firm and standing tall, turning her nose up at him, making it clear what she thought of him and how little impact he would have on her.
Instead, something about him left her feeling very small indeed, and rather than proudly telling him all of her life’s goals and her desire to achieve them she instead shuffled nervously on the spot, her eyes on the floor, only able to mumble her name and even then only when he asked her for it.
Things went downhill from there, at least to Emily it seemed they did.
No matter what he said or had her do she just couldn’t refuse him. She’d spend hours before their sessions psyching herself up, swearing blind she’d hold tough, but the instant he appeared and the instant he spoke to her she just melted, meekly complying.
Referring to him as sir? Yes sir.
A uniform? Yes sir.
Speaking only when spoken to? Yes sir.
No more reading books that weren’t on his approved list? Yes sir.
It was a very short list, too, and the books had very small words. Still, she had no choice. Her old books were still on the shelf but try as she might she just couldn’t do it. Even looking at them too long filled her with the most tremendous, gnawing guilt.
What was happening to her?
Eventually, after weeks of this with many instances of correction and instruction, Emily stopped feeling unhappy about how easily she’d given in and how pathetic she felt around him.
It must be natural. What else could the answer be? What else could explain how it had happened, just like that? How the sight and sound of him turned her legs to jelly and seemed to chase all the thoughts out of her head? It must just be natural.
What was the use in being unhappy about it? It was just the way things were. Just the way things were always going to be, now. No use in fighting it.
And so she stopped fighting it. And all at once everything was beautiful.
In the end the results were more than her parents could have hoped for. They’re already recommended the tutor to a few of their friends possessed of daughters going through similar rebellious phases.
For her part, Emily is a good girl now. A very good girl. She understands what she’s for and she’s happy. No more struggling now. No more pushing back. No more reaching for things that aren’t for her.
It’s going to be vaguely enjoyable seeing which pictures dodge Tumblr’s PURITY FILTER and which don’t. And vaguely stimulating working with what material that leaves me with!
A lot might just be blocked. And yet my dash remains filthy? Confusing.
Now I could have sworn I’d reposted this one already.
Now superheroines! That’s rich fodder.
The Master fancied himself Justice Girl’s nemesis, but she didn’t rate him that highly. For one thing, he called himself The Master; a sure sign of a feeble imagination or a sly sci-fi reference, neither inflating him in her estimation.
His choice of henchman didn’t help matters. Weird, animate creatures of living clay named ‘Goons’ - again, highly reminiscent of something that she couldn’t take seriously - which were not enormously bright and posed very little threat to her even in numbers. This was ably demonstrated by the contemptuous ease with which she breezed straight into the heart of his lair, swatting aside the gibbering things as they came at her. it was tiresome, really.
"This’ll go a lot easier for you if you just turn yourself in!" She yelled into his lair, to no response. She sighed and kept going, batting Goons out of her way as she went.
Eventually she rounded a corner into what seemed some sort of lab. The Master himself was stood behind a console frantically adjusting things and glanced up as she entered.
"I need a few more seconds! Occupy her, minions!" He commanded, pointing. Fresh Goons - a mere handful - rounded on her. She rolled her eyes.
“More Goons?” Justice Girl asked dismissively as she was surrounded. She had defeated these minor foes dozens of times in the past; dozens of times tonight, even. What could they possibly do to her now? She puffed out her impressive chest in defiance.
“Yes Justice Girl, more Goons,” The Master said as he continued fiddling with something Justice Girl couldn’t see. His schemes and gadgets mattered not; Justice would prevail!
“What makes you think more of your pathetic creations will be able to stop me? They didn’t stop me the last time! Or just now! Ever, in fact.”
“Because last time you weren’t stupid enough to stand in a Passivity Field!” The Master said with triumph, hitting a button. There was a high-pitched sound and then a feeling of helpless calm overwhelmed Justice Girl, a gasp of shock barely managing to pass her lips.
“I think you know what to do, Goons,” The Master said, grinning. Justice Girl struggled to move as the faceless creations moved in towards her, surrounding her closely. One came up behind her and grabbed her wrists, holding them behind her back. The angle forced her ample teen bosom even further out.
“N-no…” She said through gritted teeth, straining every sinew in trying to throw off the effects of the field. She felt a deep-seated sense of weakness and powerlessness fill her up. So weak, so helpless.
“Explore her body, Goons; test that she is worthy to serve as my slave,” The Master said. A Goon stepped up in front of her and grabbed her tits, squeezing them through the thin spandex of her costume. Justice Girl groaned, unable to move away from the hands now molesting her.
“That’s it minions, molest the little slut. I want her body ready for when she surrenders it to me,” The Master said. The Goon continued groping her boobs through her costume while another pushed its hand between her legs. Justice Girl gasped as the creature’s thick fingers pressed hard against her vulnerable young cunt.
“No…no…” She panted as the Goon started to rub up and down the length of her slit. She could feel it starting to get wet despite herself. The Goon fondling her boobs had started to flick and pinch her hardening nipples through the spandex. It was just so hard to fight.
“Try to resist, Justice Girl; it will make your inevitable failure all the sweeter!” The Master sneered. There was another Goon rubbing its fingers between her asscheeks now, caressing over her tight hole through the costume. Justice Girl was breathing fast, a flush rising in her cheeks.
“Oh God…”
“Put her onto her knees,” The Master said and his Goons complied, pushing her down onto the floor. Her wrists were held above her head, pushing her chest out, her nipples proudly on display.
“Try out that mouth of hers.”
Justice Girl watched helplessly as the Goons worked their featureless crotches, forming long, thick cocks from the clay of their bodies. One stepped up to her and prodded at her pouting lips with the head of its dick. Justice Girl couldn’t stop them from opening.
“No…plea-“ her plea was muffled as the cock pushing into her hot young mouth. The Goon began to gently fuck her face, its thick cock stretching her lips taut. Justice Girl found her mouth watering and moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. After a minute or so of quiet, powerless sucking the first Goon cock was withdrawn and immediately replaced by another. And then another.
“Goons cannot ejaculate, for which you should probably be thankful. If they could, they would be marking you with their seed right now,” The Master said. Justice Girl could only groan. Sucking cock had always made her incredibly wet, and now was no exception. She was starting to soak through her costume.
“I see you’re getting ready. Perhaps it is time for some…training…Goons, break her will.” The Master said.
Justice Girl was pushed forward onto her hands and knees, another Goon cock shoved into her mouth as rough hands tore apart her costume, exposing her round ass and soaking pussy. A Goon got down behind her and rubbed the fat head of its cock up and down the length of her puffy slit, getting it coated with her juices before it slid inside her. Justice Girl’s eyes widened and she moaned loudly into the cock that was gagging her.
The two Goons fucking her began to saw her back and forth between them; the one behind her pulling its cock out as the one in her mouth pushed deep into her throat. She groaned wantonly as her body was used roughly, two more Goons moving up either side of her and putting their cocks into her hands. She started to wank them off, groaning as she felt the cocks throb and grow as she pumped them.
All thoughts of resistance seemed dim and distant; unimportant compared to the pressing need to service the cocks around her and the overpowering weakness she felt. She held them tightly in her hands, relishing their firmness as she hungrily gulped and sucked on the one working in and out of her throat.
“Yes! You will make a fine slave, you glorious little whore!” The Master cackled. She knew she should fight, should say something back - even just ‘shut up’ - but she couldn’t She had to do as she was told. She couldn’t do anything else.
She had no idea how long they fucked her for. They kept swapping places, giving her a few moments to gasp and pant before pushing back into her mouth or her cunt. There was a moment of apprehension as she felt the slick head of one of the cocks just graze over her asshole before sliding easily up into her and then everything was fine again; she was weak, she was helpless, she needed it.
One by one and eventually the Goons withdrew, stepping away from her and leaving Justice Girl a panting, drooling, light-headed mess sprawling on the floor. She remained where she fell, half-sitting up, shoulders rising and falling as she stared at the floor, mind all but gone.
The Master gently cupped Justice Girl’s chin and tilted her head up. She looked up with her big, innocent eyes.
“Are you ready, my slave?” He asked.
“Y-yes…my Master…” Justice Girl said, her voice trembling. Her pussy twitched as she looked up at her Master, gasping softly as he pulled out his long cock.
“Then I think we should consummate our new…arrangement…” He said, grinning. Justice Girl lay down on her back, spreading her legs wide and leaving herself open.
“Take me, Master.” She panted. She yearned for his touch, his cock. She felt empty and alone without it. Her new Lord knelt down between her legs, his cock jutting out proudly. She gasped with pleasure as The Master grabbed her firm ass and pulled her hips up to him, expertly sliding her onto his waiting dick.
“Oh Master!” She groaned “You’re so big!” The Master rammed the teen up and down on his cock like a doll, using her cunt to pleasure himself. Justice Girl didn’t even care if she was being used; it was what was she for now, and she knew it.
Mr foul please come back? I miss your captions and stories, I keep rereading all your old ones but I’m so desperate for something new (or a repost of another old story) from you... Please sir?
Most of my time these days is spent...not doing anything any of you folks would enjoy, heh. I am listless and exhausted and just can’t do the smuts. Or at least not constructively. Sigh!
Also, is it weird that in real life if someone calls me sir it annoys me but here it’s kind of normal?
You know I genuinely can’t remember having written any of this.
Susan woke up before the alarm and was already half-way dressed by the time it went off. She had been doing so for nearly a week now, but only now noticed. She looked down at herself, at the ridiculous clothes her neighbour - her captor - had picked out for her. She looked like a school girl, albeit rather an obscene one. She’d even put her hair back into bunches like she’d been told to, another thing she hadn’t noticed doing. Her shoulders slumped.
She didn’t know how long she’d been here. Since she’d been taken in she hadn’t seen any clocks and the the blinds were drawn anytime she got near a window. This must have been deliberate in an effort to disorientate her, and it had worked. Despite that, she could still remember how she had ended up here.
Susan had never really seen eye-to-eye with her neighbour, Miss Reuben. Just something about her made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. But she wanted to be a good neighbour, and so had decided on making an effort. She baked something - as was the custom, apparently - and went over to make small talk. She found the door open and, curious, investigated. The next thing she knew was a lot of struggling and squirming that ended with her hogtied.
What followed was a period of time devoted to - in Miss Reuben’s words - impressing on Susan the futility of attempting to escape. She would get out in due time, but only when Miss Reuben was finished with her. To her shame, Susan had given in very quickly, and then the proper training bad begun. She didn’t know what her neighbour had in mind for her, but she knew she was changing already.
She could tell because once she’d gotten herself nice and ready she immediately dropped to her knees and waited. She did this because this was what she knew she had to do. Every day. Some time later - she didn’t know how long later - the door to her little room opened, and in walked Miss Reuben. Susan shivered.
"There’s my little girl!" She said, beaming. Susan’s heart leapt. Every time she heard it that happened. It was probably a good sign that she wasn’t fully used to it yet; it meant there was still a chance. She hoped it meant there was still a chance.
"Please…" Susan’s mouth opened to say a name, the name of the neighbour she knew, but then the training she had been through took over and the words died in her throat, Miss Reuben’s stern look not helping.
"Please M-Mummy," Susan mumbled instead, her eyes dropping to the floor.
"Don’t sulk. What do you say?" Miss Reuben said. Susan put on her brightest, biggest smile and looked back into Miss Reuben’s face.
"Good morning Mummy, S-S-Susie is ready to learn!" She said, stumbling over the little-girl name her neighbour had given her. It still stuck in her throat. Miss Reuben didn’t look any less stern.
"Silly girl, you really should remember your name. But it’s good that you’re ready to learn, you still have a lot to get through. You’re lagging behind! Most girls your age are already done by now, tsch."
Susan looked at the floor, feeling shame burning side her. She knew she shouldn’t, she knew she should be annoyed at being treated like this, but she wasn’t. She wanted to be good. Miss Reuben snapped her fingers and she looked back up again.
"Come along, to the classroom," she said, turning and leaving. Susan followed on her knees, shuffling as fast as she could.
The ‘classroom’ was just Miss Reuben’s front room, the curtains pulled very firmly shut. The large television that dominated the room was already on, today’s DVD of smut waiting in the player. Miss Reuben sat herself on the sofa with crossed legs while Susan dolefully crawled to her feet and settled herself there.
"Paying attention?" Miss Reuben asked, remote control in hand. Susan - as much as she might have wanted to look anywhere else - already had her eyes glued to the screen.
"Yes Mummy," she said. Miss Reuben’s other hand went down onto Susan’s head and ruffled her hair.
"Good girl. Legs wide now, let Mummy know you’re doing it properly," she said and Susan obediently parted her legs, tiny skirt riding up instantly. She was already wet. She was wet most all of the time now, really. She shivered as her fingers brushed against her swollen pussy, and the movie started.
Susan had never watched that much pornography. It had just never really done much for her. Maybe once or twice a while ago, at least once with a boyfriend who had been into that sort of thing, but not really since. That had changed. In captivity she had watched more hours of the stuff then she could imagine, and to her horror it had started to have an effect. The lascivious stuff she’d watched was always hovering in the back of her mind, and it was an effort to keep it there.
Today it was the same movie as she had watched for several days previously, and centered almost entirely around sucking cocks. Scene after scene of primped and preened young women who very rapidly lost what little clothes they had to begin with as they sank to their knees and took the astonishingly large organs of the male actors into their mouths. Often, there was more than one, though this didn’t seem to bother them.
Susan watched it all. She knew most of it off by heart by now and even started to mouth along to some parts, especially the muffled moaning and groaning. All the while she played with herself, getting herself closer and closer until, just at the very moment before she’d come, she pulled her hand away. She’d sit there trembling like a leaf for a minute or so before resuming carefully, and this would happen over and over again until Miss Reuben said stop. The movie repeated several times, too.
Susan knew what would happen if she came. She had found that out early on. Her behind still stung at the memory.
Before too long, Susan had lost almost all concept of, well, just about anything. She forgot where she was, what she was doing and even who she was a little bit. She just dribbled, played, stopped and resumed, all the while panting and moaning along with the sluts on screen, imagining what it would be like to have her mouth stuff liked that.
She was truly surprised when the screen flicked off to blank, staring at it and whining helplessly in confusion as Miss Reuben stood up and moved around in front of her.
Miss Reuben crooked her finger and put it under Susan’s chin, tilting her head up. Her eyes were glazed.
"What’s my little girl’s name?" Miss Reuben asked.
"S-Susie," Susan whimpered, her voice small and lisping. Her head was spinning, and she was at in a small puddle. Miss Reuben nodded.
"That’s right. And what would my little girl like to do for Mummy?" She asked. Susan looked blankly back and blinked slowly, licking her lips. One thought surfaced in her otherwise fuzzy mind.
"Suck…?" The word made her shiver. Miss Reuben nodded again, smiling this time and releasing Susan’s chin.
"Very good. Stephen, you can come in now."
The door opened and in walked a rather nervous looking young man. Had most of Susan’s brains not leaked out onto the floor around her she might have recognized him as the boy who lived in the house next to hers, back home from uni again now that he had graduated. She did not though. All she saw was a cock. A cock she could suck.
"Susie, we have a guest!" Miss Reuben said and Susan looked up drunkenly, eyes snapping wide as they locked onto the bulge in Stephen’s trousers. Without thinking she licked her lips and straightened up on her knees, pushing out her chest. Her heart raced as vivid images thundered through her head; suck, she had to suck, she wanted to, needed to.
Miss Reuben gave her hair a stroke before grabbing a handful and dragging Susan across the floor to the standing boy, her neighbour shuffling frantically as she was pulled back onto her knees.
"That’s better. Susie going to make our guest feel good?" Miss Reuben asked, pushing Susan’s head into Stephen’s crotch. Susan groaned, mouth wide as she helplessly nuzzled against the bulge. A sharp swat on her behind made her squeal.
"Answer me, Susie."
"Yes Mummy!"
"Well then. Get on with it!" Miss Reuben said, stepping back. Susan’s heart was hammering in her chest, her mouth watering. Her hands came up with a life of their own, going through the motions burnt into her pliable brain after days of repetition. She delicately opened up the boy’s fly and pulled out his cock, a gasp escaping her as she saw just how well developed he was. And how eager.
Little Susie was practically dribbling now. Taking him in one hand she looked up at him as she guided him into her mouth. It all seemed so natural, so right; his cock fitted between her lips perfect, like it was meant to be there. It was meant to be there. This she knew. The more it slid in, the more she knew it. This was right, this was proper, she needed this.
She groaned as the last inches disappeared into her mouth. Groaned like the girls in the movie. She understood now how they’d felt. He stiffened and throbbed as she bathed his shaft with her tongue. She wanted him to be bigger, harder than he’d ever been. She wanted her to do that for him. The heat between her soaked thighs was unbearable.
Her Mummy’s hand was on the back of her head. Calming. Reassuring.
"That’s my good girl," she said softly and Susie moaned more deeply. She was a good girl. Such a good girl. She wanted to be a good girl. She lived for it. Was made for it. She groaned and started using her mouth on the cock, like she was meant to.
Miss Reuben stood back with arms folded as she watched her erstwhile neighbour - the very picture of a horny and disheveled schoolgirl - start to give Stephen the fellatio of his life. She had to admit, Susan had come a long way in a very short time. She’d never really thought much of Susan; one of those boring yummy-mummy types who didn’t really much to do with herself now the child had gone off to do whatever and the husband had found someone younger.
At least this way, Miss Reuben thought, Susan could find a new lease of life. It was clear that she was enjoying it. She’d enjoy it a lot more once she was complete, of course, but that went without saying. She was a good girl, but there always better.
You know, I think this was a request originally. Someone sent a picture of some model?
I lose track...
It had been a very dumb bet she’d made. She’d regretted it almost as soon as she’d made it, and especially now she was having to make good on it. A ‘private modelling session’ with her one skeezy friend who fancied himself a photographer. The same skeezy friend who also quite clearly had a very particular type of photography in mind for her.
Still, she felt oddly obliged to do it, if only to get it all over with. She even went along with the outfit he had outlined for her, albeit she had chosen to wear underwear against his recommendation. She had limits, and the skirt was short enough as it was. She sighed, and put on a smile before ringing the doorbell.
He opened the door looking very, very pleased with himself and quickly ushered her inside. He had a camera already in one hand. He was not a good photographer, not that he would listen to anyone who told him so. He directed her upstairs - following close behind her, she noticed - and to his room, shutting the door behind him.
In there, her eyes quickly fell on the jet-black dildo affixed by suction cup to the side of his wardrobe at about waist height. Where and how he’d gotten that she didn’t really care to know. She looked from it to him and then rolled her eyes.
"Really?" She asked. He just grinned.
"Kneel down then," he said, nudging his head in the direction she knew he would. She did so, feeling dumber by the moment for having placed that bet at all.
Now that it was level with her faced, she eyed the waggling phallus warily and glanced up at him. A tiny sliver of worry had crept into her.
"These…these are totally private, yeah? Just between us, just this once?" She asked. She gave the thing a tap and it swayed. She followed it with her eyes, finding it oddly hypnotic. A little silly, yes, but not so silly as to dismiss the little tingle she felt being so close to it.
"Totally and on my life. These are very much for my benefit," he said. His delivery made her grin, despite the situation. A little levity went a long way.
"You’re kinda sick," she said.
"I know. But it’s fun. Now, do you really need me to tell you what to do?" He asked. She pouted at him.
"You really don’t. Just make sure you get all you want, because this is only happening once!” She was empathetic about that. He nodded, holding the camera up at the ready.
If she didn’t trust him as much as she did she would never have come here in the first place, but the hint of risk still sent a shiver down her spine as she planted a soft kiss on the head of the dildo. She felt ridiculous, but that was par for the course and she kept it in check.
Pigtails swishing about her head - for they had been part of his requirements, too - she played with the fake cock using her mouth. Licking, kissing, taking it into her mouth ever slightly; acutely aware of the pictures he was taking the whole while. Something about the whole bizarre scenario had Bryrony’s pulse racing despite herself. This wasn’t so bad…it was even a little fun…
After a minute or so the guy frowned and stopped taking photos, stepping back.
"What is it?" Bryrony asked, licking some errant spit off her lips. She had started getting a little sloppy with the thing.
"Something’s missing…" he said, tapping his chin. He snapped his fingers and picked something up, though she couldn’t see clearly what it was.
"Just put your hands behind your back," he said, setting the camera down. Bryrony looked up at him sideways but did as she was told, putting her wrists together in the small of her back. He stepped around her and she heard a ripping sound, a moment later feeling something plastic and pliable being wrapped around her.
"Hey…" she said, not really a protest more a mildly annoyed observation.
"Trust me, it’ll be fine," he said, continuing to wind the bondage tape - for that was what it obviously was - around her wrists. Pretty soon they were well and truly stuck. Then, without wasting any time, he wrapped another band of tape around her head, covering up her eyes.
"Really?" She asked, cocking her head. She couldn’t see a damn thing, but she heard him step away.
"Trust me," he said again. The camera clicked. There was another movement and she felt a tug at her blouse; he was undoing it.
"Hey!" She said again, slightly more agitated this time. it was silly, given what else she’d done, but he hadn’t said he’d do that. He shushed her, which only made it worse.
"It’s just a button or two, really," he said. Against her better judgement she stayed still. He was actually telling the truth, stopping after two buttons. He tugged her blouse a little more open and she felt very exposed all of a sudden; blind and bound. Helpless.
"Much better. You have no idea how hot you look right now," he said. The camera took another snapshot, and in the darkness her rather more sensitive ears told her it had been from straight down. A cleavage shot. Without really thinking she pushed her chest out. The camera went again.
"Good girl," he said, chuckling.
"Might as well make it worth your time…" she grumbled, trying not to smirk too much. This was kinda fun, she hated to admit. Silly and wrong, but fun in its own way. She heard a strange sound. Like a zip.
"W-what are you doing?" She asked, looking around to no avail. A hand came down to rest on her head.
"Relax," he said, and despite herself she did. Something in his manner she found immensely calming. She felt safe when her spoke. Cozy. Her shoulders untensed and she knelt more comfortably.
"Open your mouth," he said and she did so, a tickle of expectation going up her spine.
"You can’t see yourself, so I’ll describe what the pictures I’m taking are trying to capture. This is you on your knees with your tits on display with your mouth nice and open," he said. The camera clicked. Bryrony trembled.
"Very nice. Now hold still," he said. She did so, and a moment later felt something very hot and very hard come to rest on her bottom lip. Her heart skipped a beat just as the camera caught it.
"That’s the picture of you about to suck my cock. A very good one, if I do say so myself," he said. Bryrony moaned uselessly, cock enough in her mouth for her to taste it. Her mouth watered. Her tongue touched the tip almost of its own accord. She tasted him. Her mouth watered more.
"All in good time…" He said, pushing forward ever so slowly. Bryrony gurgled and started suckling.Her panties were soaked, but she just couldn’t really bring herself to care. She heard the camera.
"And this is you actually sucking it. Very good girl, your expression is very convincing; really sells it," he said, continuing to ease himself more and more into her mouth.
As she started working her mouth around his cock, Bryrony wondered at what point this whole exercise had gotten away from her. She was fairly sure she had felt more in control when she started, because now she was well and truly lost. She felt so very, very small.
Turning her face up to where the lens of the camera must have been, she realized with a jerk that this was being captured, every moment of it. She had ‘known’ that before, but now she felt the weight of it. She shivered and sucked on him, shrinking down even more. She wondered how she must look.
He pulled out suddenly and with a ‘pop’, giving her a tap on the nose with his finger and leaving her swaying in confusion. Had she done something wrong? She wanted it back.
"That’s enough of that. For now," she heard him say, voice moving around her. She just about got that through her head before a gentle hand took hold of her shoulder and started easing her forward. Obediently she went with it, tipping over on her knees as she was lowered down and down.
Bryrony found her head resting on the floor, her bottom raised high in the air. She whimpered as her skirt was lifted out of the way, her legs parting of their own accord.
"You know, I’ve never actually seen a wet spot before. I’m very impressed," he said, capturing the moment forever. Bryrony’s face burned. A finger hooked into her panties and started tugging them down her legs. The further down they went, the more exposed she felt.
Click.
"That picture is of you, nice and ready and helpless."
She heard him move and come in down behind her. She gasped as something hot and hard brushed up against her, nudging against her inner thigh and settled against her pussy.
"And this picture," he said, rubbing the head of his cock up and down the length of her bare, naked slit "is me just before I start fucking you."
Click.
"Oh Goddddd….what are you doing…?" Bryony moaned, shivering.
"Teasing you, obviously. I’m sure you can feel how wet you are, but you can’t see it. It’s something, let me tell you," he said. His cock was parting her lips around it, his heat making her stomach clench.
"Please…please just…" she whimpered.
"Please just what?"
"Please just…put it…inside me…"
"You want my cock inside you?"
"Yes yes please please just do it please I need it," she squealed.
Click.
"And that was the picture of you begging like a wanton slut. I’ll admit some of the effect was lost without the sound. We’ll do a video next time."
Before Bryony could ask what exactly he meant by ‘next time’ he shoved forward into her. Not a lot, but enough to knock the words out of her. He felt even bigger in her pussy then he had in her mouth, and even harder. She rippled around him unconsciously, trying to draw him in deeper but not really accomplishing much other than frustrating herself.
"More, more…." She pleaded, only for there to be another click.
"Patience. I want to capture all of this. Every inch. One after the other."
And he did. She could tell he did because it all happened agonizingly slowly, his free hand on the back of her head holding her in place despite her needy wriggling. Click, click, click; deeper and deeper.
"Please…please…" She whined. He was so hard inside her. So hard and so big and so hot. She wanted more of it. Needed more of it. All of it. Nothing else mattered at that moment; nothing at all. His hand removed her blindfold, not that she really noticed. The camera was set down in front of her face, a red light visible. She could see her expression. She looked empty, dumb. She felt it.
"This thing can record videos as well, did you know that?" He asked, one hand resting on her hip as the other continued holding her head. Bryrony groaned, gasping and shuddering as he pushed the last of his cock into her. She felt so very, very full.
"It’s good that it does," he continued, serenely running a hand over her bare bottom "because this is something I’m going to want to relive again and again. Well, your reaction, at least."
Then he started fucking her, and now he wasted no time. In seconds he was pounding into her hard, his hips slapping against hers as he drove his cock deep into her over and over. Bryrony’s mouth hung open as her face pressed into the carpet, a little puddle of drool developing.
"Don’t just lie there and dribble," he panted "tell the camera that you’re a happy slut for being fucked."
Bryrony’s mind was so blank all she registered what she’d been told to do something. She had to do it. Anything else just didn’t even occur to her. More than that, the words had struck a chord. They were true, so saying them was the right thing to do.
"I’m a - oh ah - happy slut for being - unf - fucked," she panted into the camera, body hammered forward on every other word. She tingled and smiled before the expression was fucked off her face, leaving it nice and blank again.
"Good girl. Now just saying you’re a slut. For me," he said, ruffling her hair.
"I’m a slut," Bryrony panted obligingly, eyes empty and staring into the lens "I’m a slut I’m a slut I’m a slut."
The more she said it, the breathier it got until she was barely speaking at all. But she didn’t stop. Not once. At least, not until he came. She came with him, and it became rather hard to talk at that point. Her pussy clenched helplessly around his cock as he came inside her, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he grunted quietly. Bryrony just dribbled some more.
She saw - but didn’t ‘see’ - the camera being picked up from in front of her face, just as she didn’t really hear the click of it behind her as the picture was taken of his cum leaking down the inside of her leg. She was somewhere else at that moment. A very, very happy place. A place where she didn’t mind having the rest of her clothes removed for the rather more involved pictures to come.
She wanted to stay in that place forever. Luckily for her, he rather wanted her to stay there, too.
After swallowing her Master - a treat for which she was also allowed to cum - she followed obediently by his heels as he went to the bathroom, waiting on her knees outside the door. She heard the shower start and immediately her head was filled with images of naked Master soaking wet, which in turn made her wet. A little puddle started to form again underneath her, rear end starting to wag once more.
"Get in here, pet," she heard her Master say and her heart leapt. Scrambling on her hands and knees and she went around and into the bathroom was quickly as she could, settling down on her haunches outside the shower, confused.
Sophie cocked her head to the side, tongue hanging out, as she stared adoringly up at Master through the glass. It was just like she had imagined! Only better. He turned and her doe-like eyes dropped instantly his cock and she panted a little harder. She heard him chuckle and she shivered.
"Stand up Sophie and get in here," he said.
Sophie, blinking, rose to her feet, wavering slightly. She wasn’t as steady on two legs as she used to be, and found it a little scary. Still, she did what she was told, and - wobbling - went into the shower with her Master.
She melted into him the instant he had his hands on her, pulling her tiny body up against his own as the water splashed down on them both. His cock - hard again - pressed flat against her belly as she nuzzled happily into his chest, cooing. He gave her a kiss on the head before turning her in place and pushing her forward away from him, one hand keeping her hips in place.
Sophie’s little tits squashed up against the cold, wet glass of the cubicle as her Master pressed up behind her. She felt so small in his hands, so weak and helpless. She moaned as the fat head of his cock dragged languidly down between the pert cheeks of her ass, nestling against her slit before sliding easily up into her. It felt good to have Master inside her, it felt right.
-
Sophie squealed and tried to turn away, squealing louder as the hand came down sharply onto her rear again. It stung badly, and she reluctantly turned her watering eyes back onto the screen in front of her. On it, she could see herself, and she was getting fucked.
"There, that’s better, that’s a good girl," the woman said soothingly, running a hand over Sophie’s behind. The bound girl groaned and wriggled but otherwise said or did nothing, keeping her eyes on the screen in the hopes of avoiding another slap. The woman was supremely good at them.
She felt the woman shift and settle down beside her, lips level with Sophie’s ear.
"You’re being a good girl there, too. Can you see how good you’re being?" The woman asked. Sophie gurgled into the gag in what she hoped would be interpreted as a ‘yes’.
All she saw was herself, bound as she always was, being taken from behind by her other captor, the man. She could remember that particular one, too; it hadn’t been that long ago. Or had it? It was hard to tell. And while they told her that the movie she was watching was herself from yesterday she was sure they were lying to her about that.
It hardly mattered. The pattern went on regardless. Bound and made to watch herself helplessly used while the woman whispered into her ear, duly followed by the man using her again so she could be shown the next day. How long had it been now? Sophie had no idea. A week? A month? On screen, she saw herself shake and moan as she came on the man’s cock. She blushed. Times like that, she just couldn’t stop herself.
"See? You’re being a very good girl there, cumming on your Master’s cock. That cock owns you, you know. That tight little hole of yours is made for it. I know you understand," the woman whispered. Sophie shivered. That voice of hers seemed to press down on her brain, squashing it. She blinked to try and clear her head but all she saw was the cock sliding in and out of her on screen. She could imagine it clearly.
She wanted it. The desire came out of nowhere but was unmistakable. She wanted it back inside her again. Needed it. Had to have it. She whined without realized, bucking against the straps holding her down. The woman patted her on the head soothing, a hand sliding between slender thighs.
"There there, you’ll have it soon pet, you just need to be patient and watch your movie. My, you’re eager, aren’t you?" The woman asked, fingers coming away dripping. Sophie blushed more deeply but couldn’t deny it. She was wet for her Master.
Wait. Master? No. That was…she was being held captive. These people were, were…Master and…no…
The fingers slid back again and all thoughts dripped out of Sophie’s head with a quiver. She wished it was Master’s cock.
"There there," the woman repeated "not long now."
-
Sophie shuddered as she came on her Master’s cock. She couldn’t help it. When Mistress was around she knew she had to control herself, but Master had always been a little softer with her and Sophie knew she could get away with just that little bit more.
The water from the shower was still cascading down, making their bodies slippery against one another but Master never slowed down, not once. He bit her on the neck and she came again instantly, helplessly. So weak.
"Mistress would be very upset with me if she knew how much I was spoiling you…" he murmured, biting down again. Sophie just whined needily, greedily, enjoying every inch and every second of the cock she was made to serve.
-
Sunlight fell suddenly across Sophie and she woke instantly, eyes opening blearily. A figure was standing over. A man. he was holding something. Without needing to think Sophie rose up onto her knees by his feet, head bowed, hands behind her. Thinking wasn’t need for that.
A finger came to rest under her chin and tilted her head up. The man was standing in the light so he was hard to see. Sophie looked up at him with blank, empty eyes. She blinked, slowly. Who was he, again? It was so hard to remember. He was someone…important? Yes, important, that felt right. Very important. But why…
She stretched her neck out without thinking as he reached down to fasten a collar around it. As the lock clicked shut it jogged something in her head: Master. Yes, that was it. He was Master, that’s why he was important; he was her Master. Immediately her blank eyes took on a more adoring aspect as an intense and simple love started to fill her up. He smiled down at her and gave the leash attached to the collar a gentle tug.
Sophie loved her Master. The fact was plain and prominent in her head, impossible to ignore. She followed after him on her hands and knees, glancing up at him every so often. She loved Master because she was made for him, made to serve him. She understood that, she knew it. She loved it.
She was led out of the room she slept in and through the house. The layout confused her, so she tried not to think about it and just thought about Master’s cock instead. That made her much happier, and she was still smiling dumbly by the time they arrived. She was led into the middle of a different room and settled in position on all fours. A screen was moved in front of her and her Master moved down behind her.
On the screen, a woman appeared. That woman. The familiar woman. The woman Master was always with. Sophie blinked in confusion and then groaned as Master pushed into her.
"That is your Mistress," he said, pulling up her head which he started hanging limply "And I am going to teach you how much you love her."
-
Sophie had come more times than she could count - which wasn’t hard - before she felt Master stiffen. She knew what was going to happen and practically quivered with excitement as he pushed up one last time deep into her, cock twitching. She felt him shoot into her, hot and thick. She loved that feeling especially. It meant she had done well, been useful. Master stayed buried in her for maybe a minute or so, breathing heavily, water still splashing down. He then pulled out and Sophie very nearly collapsed into the shower.
With help from Master she managed to clamber back out onto the bathroom floor where she immediately sunk back down onto her knees. Much more comfortable. She stayed there and watched Master finish his shower, his cum dribbling down the inside of her leg the whole while.
Old stuff. Don’t think I posted it here? Can’t really tell because, since my blog is so hawt, I can’t even look at it to check!
Man, none of this old stuff is any good...
Sophie rested on her haunches, her rear-end wagging from side-to-side unconsciously. She tended not to notice when she did it nowadays, but it had caused her no end of distress when she found out she was doing it and not being able to stop. Not noticing was probably for the best. Certainly, she was happier this way.
She had woken up not too long ago and had - on all fours - automatically padded along to her Master’s bedroom to wait for wake up time. She did this every morning, like clockwork. A little better than clockwork, in fact; or at least a lot more enjoyable than clockwork. She waited with her eyes on the clock by the side of Master’s bed. It was getting close now.
Mistress was away. She sometimes went away, not that they ever told Sophie why. She missed her, but she also liked that it meant that wake up time would just be her and Master. Something special about that. She could focus all her efforts on it, especially because it was extra-important to keep him company with Mistress away.
Tongue hanging out the edge of her mouth, dribbling quietly, Sophie anxiously watched the minutes tick down; seeing the time until she could finally have Master back in her mouth shrink and shrink.
It hadn’t always been like that, of course. Sophie had needed a lot of work to get her to where she was. Not that she remembered most of it. It was just always running beneath the surface of what was left of her brain. Unconscious, ingrained, and irresistible. Much happier this way.
-
Sophie squirmed uselessly, squealing into her gag. It was pointless. She knew it was pointless. She had known it was pointless from the moment she came to, finding herself bound, blindfolded and unable to move. That was bad enough, but the infernally buzzing toy between her legs - not quite enough to let her cum but enough so that she couldn’t ignore it - made it unbearable. There was no getting away from it.
Calling out was impossible thanks to the gag strapped around her head and so her moans and pleas went unnoticed. Not that they would have had much attention paid to them anyway. Her jaw ached from trying, though the trying had stopped some time ago. She was mostly just whimpering now, variously trying to escape from the constant vibration or grind against it enough to finally get some release without much success either way.
It felt like hours went by before anything else happened, and when it did it made her jump nearly a foot in the air. A voice, very clear and very close. For a split-second of total confusion she thought it was coming from right inside her skull, until her still vaguely rational mind worked out that she must have headphones on. She hadn’t really been paying enough attention to notice.
"You need a cock," said the voice. Sophie wrinkled her nose and mumbled something insolent into the gag. Of all the things she needed right now, a cock seemed pretty low down on the list.
"Nice, hard cock. Need a cock."
Well, on seconds thoughts, she was pretty turned on; maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But on her terms. A nice hard cock would certainly hit the spot, but escaping would be better first. Yes. Nice and hard.
"You can’t stop thinking about cock."
A chill ran down Sophie’s spine. They wanted her to think about cock. This much was obvious, but that she had so easily started doing what they wanted worried her. She wriggled some more but that only made it worse. A nice hard cock. No, wait, no; don’t think about that.
"Good girls think about how much they need cock. You need a cock."
She tried to ignore it, tried not to think about what the words were telling her, but it was impossible. On any other day she would have found it laughable, but naked, bound and half-insane from frustration she found the words compelling. As ridiculous as they seemed on the face of it, simply being told she needed a cock was making it truer by the second.
Sophie couldn’t help herself. She thought about cocks. Hard cocks. Cocks she needed. That made her a good girl. Was it good being a good girl? She didn’t know. It felt good. She couldn’t help herself.
"Need a cock. Need to serve cock. Made to serve cock."
Yes, that made sense. She hadn’t really been thinking much about what she would do with she so desperately, desperately needed, but serving it certainly sounded right. Made to serve cock. That made sense. She was such a good girl.
The words started looping and overlapping, playing over the top of one another over and over again. Every so often Sophie would think she heard something else, something different, but it was too hard to pick out and it was getting so hard to think. She arched her back and strained against the straps holding her, her naked rear splashing down wetly into the little puddle she’d managed to make.
She froze instantly when she felt something against her cheek. It was hot and hard. A cock. It had to be a cock. There was nothing else it could be. Whining, she started trying to escape as though her life depend on it. Needed it. Needed it. The head of it was dragging across her face and she followed after it, jaw straining to try and open around the gag. It was so unfair. She was a good girl, wasn’t she?
Strong fingers grabbed her head and held it effortlessly in place, while others moved back around and fiddled with the strap of the gag. Sophie let out a long, relieved gasp as it came free, drool slopping down her front as she gulped down air. She was mid-way through a breath when the cock - the cock she needed, the cock she was made to serve - slid in between her lips and filled up her mouth again.
Sophie couldn’t help it. She came. It was all she needed. The moment she tasted it, the moment she started sucking it, serving it, she came harder than she had ever before in her life. Her eyes rolled back in her head and a loud, incoherent noise was thankfully muffled, her whole body quivering. The cock didn’t seem to care, it was just sliding in and out of her mouth almost lazily. Sophie sucked it even as she clenched and shook. There didn’t seem anything else to do.
The next day, it all happened again. By the third day, it happened twice, although by that point Sophie had rather forgotten what a ‘day’ was.
-
Sophie was moving the instant the clock ticked over to wake-up time. Numbers were sort of hard now, but she recognized what they looked like, and that was enough. Quickly and quietly she slipped up under the covers and into the bed, crawling between her Master’s legs. Master slept naked, and within seconds she had found his cock.
Master’s cock. She lived to serve it. Was made to. She took it into her mouth and did everything she knew she had to. It was all burnt into her brain, impossible to ignore, and all so very important. She licked and sucked and fluttered and felt him harden. His body stirred.
Master’s hand came down to her head, fingers lacing through her hair as he stirred. She heard him groan and her whole body shivered like a leaf.
"Good morning, pet," he said, sleepily, and Sophie’s heart leapt.
I've followed you since probably the beginning, man, and one of my first big worries was what was going to happen to you. Hell it was bad enough losing you before you remade - if that treasure hunt extends to the whole internet I'm not going to have a shit show in hell of following again. Your porn's great & I enjoy it as much as you (hopefully) enjoy producing it, so a link to a new website or secret email address or co-ordinates of your carrier pigeon would be appreciated if it comes to that.
Ah,OG's! I have been here a while now, on and off...
I'dsay I'd try and keep the name but this is the internet so the instantI let my guard down someone'll snap it up, probably. Probably alreadyhave, somewhere.
Hey,remember when that random asshole was stealing Tumblr smut andposting it to Wattpad? What a crazy time.
Butanyway. Who knows what'll happen? Maybe Tumblr will just purge allthe picture posts and we'll be left with a shell of written smut.Maybe they'll come around my house and punch me in the gutpersonally.
Hah! Ijoke!
That'dtake effort. They’d sooner die.
If -when - I do slither off, I'll do my best to make my destinationclear. Right now things are so chaotic planning is troublesome.
What afucking palava.
Foul, Foul Stories @foulfoulstories - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
