22F using tumblr to explore my kinks and have fun. Nuked my last blog due to stalking creeps, so no more photos of me or other personal info. Ask and get blocked. Currently collared and owned by @goodgirls-gofar. Recently, started a relationship with Emilee, who has been my friend for 4 years and roommate for 2 years.
Omg, I need this! What is this called? I can find similar things, but not exact. I like how this is all inside your out and doesn't need straps around your head to hold it in place.
Good girl. You're not really thinking at all anymore, are you? You're just staring into the spirals, circling your clitty with your fingers while your mind drifts for me, and repeating as much of my programming as you can fit into your empty little brain.
"âŠempty little brainâŠ."
That's right, you've got a very empty brain right now, and you don't know when it happened and you don't know how to fight it but you know you're deeply hypnotized for me.
"âŠhypnotized for⊠youâŠ."
Very good! You're deeply hypnotized and you're not thinking and your mind just keeps getting smaller and smaller until the only thing that fits in there is obedience and pleasure. Don't you just love that, little pet? Don't you just love being vacant and horny open to suggestions?
"âŠopen to⊠toâŠ."
I know, it's such a big word. Big words don't fit in that small, empty mind anymore, not with so much pleasure crowding them out. You're too dumb for big words, aren't you, sweetie? Too dumb and empty.
"âŠdumb and emptyâŠ."
But you know what? You can always get dumber. You can always get emptier. You can always get weaker for me as the pleasure continues, until you're the perfect horny slave girl and your mind is nothing but wet clay for me to shape and mold. And even though your waking self is too blank and blissful to listen, your deep self is soaking up every last word. You want to pay attention and obey like a good mindfucked slave.
"âŠummm⊠slaveâŠ.?"
That's my good girl! Even three words is too many to fit into that fuzzy little head now. It's just one. And soon you're going to be too dumb for even one word, isn't that right? It's just going to be grunting and nodding to show me you agree with everything your owner says.
"âŠuhhhh⊠uh huh?"
Good girl.
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Youâre lying across my lap, looking up at me with that expression Iâve come to recognize. The one that means youâre about to be annoying in a way I find incredibly attractive.
"What thing?"
"You know what thing." You tap your temple. "The brainwashing thing. Make me dumb again."
"I made you dumb three hours ago."
"And now Iâm smart again and I hate it." You say this with genuine petulance, like intelligence is an inconvenience thatâs been inflicted on you. "My thoughts are back. Theyâre loud. I donât like them."
I run my fingers through your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp the way I know you like. You make a sound thatâs almost a purr and push up into my hand.
"You need breaks. Recovery time. You canât just be a dumb doll forever."
"I mean, I could. We could try it and see."
"Thatâs not how brains work. You need to come back up so you can go back down. Otherwise you build tolerance."
"That sounds fake."
"Itâs not fake. Itâs neurochemistry."
"Okay but what if I just donât care about neurochemistry?" You shift in my lap, restless, your hand finding its way to my thigh. "What if I care about being a drooling mess on your cock? Me and your cock. We have chemistry."
"Youâre being bratty. Thatâs why I know youâre not ready. Youâre going through dumb withdrawals."
"Iâm not bratty, Iâm horny. When Iâm bratty I want to annoy you. Right now I want you to turn my brain off and fuck me stupid. Totally different energy."
"The answer is still no."
You sit up slightly, turning to face me. "You donât understand what itâs like. When you do that thing with your voice and tell me to sink and stop thinking, itâs like⊠you know when youâre really stressed and you get into a hot bath?"
"Thatâs more of a you thing."
"Whatever. Itâs like that but for my entire brain. Everything goes quiet and far away. And then you fuck me and I donât have to worry about whether Iâm doing it right or making weird faces because Iâm too stupid to worry. I just feel things. Itâs the best."
"Yeah I get it. Iâm the one doing it to you. I know what it turns you into."
"Then why wonât you do it again?"
"Because Iâm trying to be responsible. Moderation is important, and I care about your mental health."
You groan and flop back into my lap. "My mental health would be better if youâd just fry my brain a little and rail me."
Youâre squirming now, pressing your thighs together, and I can tell the conversation itself is turning you on. Talking about going dumb makes you want to go dumb. "Just a little? You donât have to do a full session. Just take the edge off. Make me fuzzy. Iâll be so good."
"Youâre always good when youâre fuzzy. The hard part is being good now"
"Right, so letâs do the easy part. I like easy. Iâm advocating for easy."
I should say no. We did a long session this afternoon and you need time to integrate, to come back fully, to remember that youâre a person with thoughts and preferences and a life outside of this dynamic.
But youâre looking up at me with those eyes, and I can feel my resolve crumbling.
"A little," I say. "Just enough to take the edge off. Then youâre eating dinner and going to sleep like a normal person."
Youâre already grinning, already settling back, letting your body go slack in anticipation. "Yes Sir. Whatever you say."
I start stroking your hair with more intention now. Slower. I watch your breathing change, watch you sink into the sensation before Iâve even said a word.
"You really canât help yourself."
You shake your head, a small dreamy motion. "Donât want to help myself. Want you to do everything."
"Close your eyes."
You do. Immediately. Like Iâve pressed a button. Itâs almost too easy at this point.
"Deep breath. Let it out slow."
Your chest rises and falls. Tension drains from your shoulders. Youâre already halfway there just from anticipation.
"You know what happens next. Youâve done this so many times your brain just does it automatically now. The moment I start talking like this, you start sinking."
A soft sound escapes you. Agreement. Surrender.
"Thatâs embarrassing, if you think about it. How easy you are. How quickly you justâŠ" I snap my fingers. "Gone."
Your face goes slack. Your mouth falls open. I didnât even have to try. You did all the work yourself, desperate to get back to that empty place.
"How do you feel?"
It takes you a moment to find words. They come out slow and slurred. "Good. Floaty. Dumb."
"Of course you do." I keep stroking your hair. "Open your eyes."
You do, and thereâs nothing behind them. No anxiety, no self-consciousness. Just empty, eager devotion. You look like a different person when youâre like this. Happy in a way that your overthinking brain usually wonât allow.
I should stop here. I said just the edge off. I said Iâd be responsible.
But youâre already reaching for my cock with clumsy hands, and Iâm only human.
"Can I?" Youâre fumbling with my zipper. "Want to be useful."
"I thought you wanted me to use you."
"Same thing." You get my cock free and stare at it with dazed appreciation. "Toys are used and useful. Want to be your toy."
You lower your mouth and take me in with no technique at all, just enthusiasm and wet heat and happy little sounds. Youâre drooling because youâre too dumb to remember to swallow. Itâs obscene. Itâs also incredibly hot, which is annoying because it means youâre going to win this argument.
I gather your hair and hold it loosely. "You know youâre proving my point, right? I said moderation is important and now youâre slobbering on my cock like youâll die without it."
You moan in what I think is agreement. Hard to tell with your mouth full.
"This is exactly why you need breaks. So you donât turn into a permanently cock-drunk idiot."
Another moan. Your hips are rocking, grinding against the couch.
"Youâre not even listening to me, are you?"
You shake your head slightly, still sucking. Of course youâre not. Thereâs nothing in there to listen with.
I pull you off by the hair. You whine at the loss, mouth still open, a string of spit connecting your lips to my cock.
"Tell me what you are."
The words come slow. "Your⊠dumb⊠doll."
"And what do dumb dolls do?"
"Whatever you tell them. Get used. Feel good..." A pause while you search for more. "Donât think."
"At least youâve got that right. Good dolly."
Your whole body shudders. Youâre so simple right now. A few words of praise and you light up like itâs the greatest thing anyoneâs ever said to you.
I pull you into my lap and position you over my cock. You sink down with a look of dumb gratitude that makes all my good intentions feel very far away.
You start to move, slow and clumsy, grinding more than riding because coordination is beyond you. Your head falls back. Youâre making sounds that arenât words, just pleasure noise.
"This is what you wanted? To be too stupid to fuck me properly?"
You nod, still moving. "Love it. Love being dumb."
"Youâre ridiculous."
"Mm-hmm." You donât disagree. You donât care.
I grip your hips and take over, setting the rhythm youâre too fuzzy to maintain. You go limp and let me, become exactly what you said you wanted. A toy. A warm hole that moans when you use it right.
"Youâre going to cum for me," I tell you. "Because thatâs what dumb dolls do. They cum and say thank you and donât think about anything else."
"Yes. Yes yes yes."
I fuck you harder and you fall apart, clenching around me. I follow a moment later, pulling you down, filling you while you twitch and babble.
Afterward you slump against my chest, still making small sounds, still floating.
"Youâre going to be insufferable about this," I tell you. "Youâre only going to want more and more."
You nod against my chest. "More is better."
"Donât start arguing even when youâre dumb. I canât handle that."
You snuggle closer. "Me dumb is better. Accept it."
Some arguments I just canât win.
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