My udders am a bimbo hucow looking for hypnosis, and maybe some training and a little more depending on how it goes
Cosmic Funnies
styofa doing anything

No title available
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
🪼
AnasAbdin
todays bird

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz

Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from Portugal

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Thailand

seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
seen from United States
@roxymoo
My udders am a bimbo hucow looking for hypnosis, and maybe some training and a little more depending on how it goes
A little reminder ✨
Rescued from an old blog
you need to let me use you like the good girl you are.
respond to this post saying I need to be brainwashed. if you’re a good hypnoslut.
I need to bebrainwashed
I need this
Reblog to make prev a dumber more submissive slut~
but ummm we r objects n stuf?
Hypnotized but for months at a time instead of minutes or hours.
You meet a guy at a bar who seems harmless enough, he tells you about his work in hypnotism — knowing where this is going, you bet him he can't do it to you. You think this will be a fun way to have a one night stand, that you'll probably get some suggestions to do something funny or sexy, and then move on to-
But the next time you wake up it's to the sound of your own voice crying out in mindless pleasure. Your body's hot, you're covered in sweat, your legs are spread apart, ankles high in the air, and your fingers are deep in your pussy. The trembles of your most recent orgasm still ripple through your abdomen and limbs, but past that you can feel something else, an ache in your nipples that makes you want to grope your own tits and a convulsing in your stomach that you've only ever felt after one too many orgasms — both are more intense than you've ever felt in your life. You look around to take in your environment but before you can, you take note of your body. Everything is the same, down to the color on your nails. But your hair is about two inches longer. What the hell-
And then the next time you're conscious, your wrists and ankles are bound. You're on your knees. There's a ball gag- no, a cock gag in your mouth. There's something heavy and cold on your sternum, and something similar around your waist. Your chest feels like you may have some kind of weight strapped to it, and in front of you, in a room of white walls and hard wood floors, is a boot — but the thing you notice before any of that is the fire in your cunt.
The horniest you've ever been washes over your body, starting in your pussy and then out to your toes. Your eyes water, you'd moan but for the gag down your throat. You can't get your hands down past your chest, and you can't situate your legs in a way so you can use your feet to get off. The boot though is right there, you just have to-
You fall to the ground, your mass slamming against the hardwood. Your chest feels heavier than usual, that cold feeling around your waist turns into pain. A moment of clarity passes over you as your squirm and writhe closer to the boot, closer to relief — there's a chain around your waist, another around your chest, both intertwining along your back and bound together between your tits by a heavy lock. Your tits though...
Something in the back of your head twinges, makes you cringe, and corrects you. Your *udders* are bigger, by a surprising margin. Before you could hold one in each hand, they were manageable, fun. These are both the size of bowling balls, and you'd be surprised if they didn't weigh the same too. As you inch closer to the boot, dragging your new found weights, you find a new sensation in your chest — pressure. With each heave, each breath, you feel pressure radiating from your sloshing chest. The veins in your titflesh have become more pronounced, your nipples wider and much, much longer. If it weren't for the heat in your cunt, you'd knead into your chest for the feeling of wanting there.
You're so close, inches away from relief, when alarm bells finally start going off in your head. Where are you? How did you get here?
That doesn't matter, you need to cum.
How long have I been like this? How did I get like this?
That doesn't matter, you need to cum.
Is anyone looking for me?
That doesn't matter, you NEED to CUM.
You wrap yourself around the boot. You manage to right your body despite the unbound mass of your chest. You push your cunt into the toe of the dusty shoe, only to hear a clink.
The chains around your waist. They're not just a harness. They're a chasity belt.
You can't scream, but something old and deep rises from your chest, past the cock gag in your throat. No matter how much you thrust into the toe, you can't feel anything. The fire in your cunt burns a little hotter. And then the black takes you.
The next time you wake up, you're on your hands and knees. The fire is still there, but it's spread to your chest now too. You can feel bindings around your calves and wrists, keeping you low. You can also feel the weight of your udders pulling against your chest even as they graze the dirt of the ground below, sending little twists of need down your spine. The dirt near your nipples and knees is damp, though near your hands and feet, if feels dry. The cow must leaking.
The cow?
That doesn't matter, you need to cum.
There is no boot this time, hell you can't even see, there's something covering your eyes.
But before long, while the bucking in your hips is still within your control, you hear a rattling, then a clanking, then one big boom. Door shut, the scraping of boots on loose earth, a click and then the whir of machinery. Something heavy dragging along the ground near your left.
And then, like handling an animal, rough hands grab a heap of your left teat and stuff it into something tight like a suction cup. Then the right. They don't even do you the service of standing you up right, they just pull your udders to either side.
That doesn't matter, you need to cum.
Another click, then bliss.
The pressure in your chest evaporates, pump by pump, the left, then the right, then back again. You can't help but arch your back, a moan escapes your lips, your tongue lolls between your stupid cow lips.
I shouldn't be enjoying this. I need to leave.
That doesn't matter. You need to cum.
But the fire in your cunt and udders doesn't get any better, in fact, it gets worse. Where before it was a constant burning, it rolls onto you, into you, in waves, crashing against your mind again and again.
I need to cum I need to cum I need to cum
The sucking against your teats is torture. The pressure gone, now the pumps just suck on titflesh alone, each pull pushing you right up against the edge, but never beyond it.
i NEED to CUM i NEED to CUM i NEED to CUM i NEED to CUM
And then a click. The sucking stops but the need doesn't. Your limbs are shaking, you can feel your cunt dripping between your legs. The pumps come off your udders, and the cover off your eyes.
The hypnotist stands in front of you, a grin stretched along his lips.
"you've got a choice."
While you look up at him, still on all fours, still rubbing your legs together in the hopes of any release, he throws a single key to ground. Then without a word, unzips his pants, take off his belt, and pulls out a hard cock.
Your tongue lolls. Your teats brush the ground below you, sending a twist of desperation up your spine. Your empty cunt drips against your leg.
You need to cum.
You push the key away and take his cock down your practiced throat. A click, more whirring, and something pushes into your cunt without you looking.
Finally, with a great moan from your chest, you cum.
But your cunt still burns with want. You feel empty despite being filled. Your chest is already sloshing with pressure again. And the cock down your throat feels soooooo good. The heat didn't leave you. And it never will.
You need to cum again.
Trying to prove a point to my transphobic parents
Reblog if trans men are REAL, VALID AND HANDSOME MEN, NO MATTER HOW THEY CHOOSE TO PASS
Reblog if trans women are REAL, VALID, AND BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, NO MATTER HOW THEY CHOOSE TO PASS
And finally, because it's a part of my argument for this point, and also because they are,
Reblog if nonbinary and genderqueer people in general, are REAL, VALID, AND GORGEOUS PEOPLE, NO MATTER HOW THEY PASS
Yeah okay, I'll reblog that!
mmmmmmmmm yeahhhhhhhĥ
mmmmmmmmm yeahhhhhhhĥ
Correcting Chloe's Confusion
The woman who let herself into Chloe's apartment wasn't intimidating. If she was even four foot six,it was on her tippy toes, and her copper-bright hair was styled in a cute little pixie cut that only emphasized her slight frame and youthful features. Chloe was reasonably sure she could have picked her up, tucked her under her arm, and carried her off to the bedroom like a garden gnome… which made it somehow hotter when she fixed Chloe with a piercing stare and murmured, "Dizzy little dolly, Chloe," and suddenly the former WNBA player felt her knees go wobbly and her head begin to spin until she couldn't stop herself from sinking to her knees in a pose of abject supplication.
"That's a good girl," the stranger cooed, while at a much more manageable height Chloe pulled her sleeveless t-shirt up to display her pale pink breasts and stuck out her tongue in an expression of amiable idiocy. "Your Master sent me over to teach you a little lesson, Chloe. Not because you've been bad--he told me you were a very, very good girl, in fact, soaking up your suggestions like the slave you were born to be--but because he didn't want you to develop any silly little misapprehensions about your place at his feet." She reached out and casually groped Chloe's tits, and the kneeling blonde gasped in helpless lust; they'd talked about a scenario like this, she'd given her enthusiastic consent, but it was one thing to daydream about it and quite another to experience being handed out like a party favor to someone she didn't even know.
"See, if it was a man walking in here and playing with you like this," the redhead continued, pinching and tugging Chloe's nipples with a skill and dexterity that soon left the kneeling blonde squirming and whimpering with arousal, "you might get the silly idea that you're inferior to men, or even more foolishly that women have some kind of natural inferiority to men. And that would be so silly, wouldn't it?" Chloe nodded and giggled, fully aware that she would have agreed just as readily with the exact opposite conclusion--her 'dizzy little dolly' trigger made her vapid and gullible, susceptible to suggestions and eager to please, and it was making her cunt leak into the fabric of her torn and ratty jeans to know that Master had handed it out to a total stranger and it still worked.
The redhead chuckled right along with her, a condescending laugh that made Chloe impossibly fucking wet. "That's right," she cooed, putting her leg forward until it rested against Chloe's crotch and smiling as the submissive instinctively began to hump it. "Women aren't inferior to men, that's just something you tried to tell yourself so you wouldn't have to admit the real truth. And the truth is, it's you, Chloe. You're weak-willed, you're dumb and horny, and all I needed to do was just walk in here and say your trigger and you melted just like cotton candy for me, didn't you?" Chloe grunted in agreement, drool beginning to spill from her lips and down onto her chest. God, she couldn't believe how fucking hot it was to hear herself admit that.
It was having an effect on the redhead too, although she had too much self-control to give in to it… which only made Chloe's pussy ache that much more with helpless desire. "You're weaker than everybody, Chloe," she intoned, strumming the blonde's nipples with her thumbs to the accompaniment of tiny little mewls and whimpers. "You're even weaker than your own cunt, and that's why your Master owns you. Isn't that right?" Chloe nodded. She would have nodded to anything the stranger told her… but the hottest thing of all about that moment was that she knew the other woman was telling the truth.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
Alicia Drifts Into Ahegao Bliss
"You know I didn't have to train you to do that, right?" Alicia came back to herself to realize she'd once again drifted into an eyes-open trance staring at the tunnel of swirling lights on the screen, her tongue extended as far as it would go and drool spilling down onto her chest where her fingers were already massaging her small but sensitive breasts. Her cheeks flushed a vivid rose, but she didn't say a word as she made a conscious effort to refocus her gaze from the bridge of her nose to the man she called Master. She wasn't sure she could speak right now, not with her jaw still slack and her thoughts still mushy. But she did manage to look at him with interest.
His response was to give her a playful pat on the head. Alicia felt her shaft twitching in erotic excitement at the praise, but she tried to keep her focus. "It was a few months after you began hormone therapy," he continued, "back when it was clear to everyone but you just how well you were responding to it. You said you didn't really see any changes, and I put you in a very light trance--just to relax you, you still had a lot of residual anxiety about your body back then--and I told you to play with your nipples and see how it felt. Remember?" Alicia blushed deeper to realize she didn't, at least not beyond the vaguest and fuzziest sense of the term. Being Master's dumb horny titslut felt so much like her default identity that it was hard to really recall a time when it wasn't true.
"And anyway, you really liked it," Master went on, perhaps recognizing that the drooling girl who kept struggling to uncross her deep brown eyes might not be the most responsive when it came to questions. "I mean you really liked it--it was maybe a minute before you started squirming on the mattress, and that cute little bulge between your legs was actively leaking with excitement. You started to pant and moan, and it wasn't long before your eyes kind of went unfocused and you got the most adorable little cross-eyed stare for me. Just like that." Alicia knew she was slipping back into trance, but she didn't care. She knew Master enjoyed seeing her go all blank and dumb and horny, and he'd be happy to repeat anything she really needed to remember when she came out of it again.
So she almost completely missed it when Master added, "You got so hard once your tongue started lolling out--I think you'd been watching a lot of ahegao porn, and you were really just waiting for permission to turn into my dizzy little slut. And with all that pleasure, and that trance lowering your inhibitions, well… you know how that feels, don't you, sweetie? You know how good it is to be dumb and horny for Master like a needy ahegao girl." Alicia's head bobbed up and down, but she wasn't really listening anymore. She didn't need to. The pleasure was throbbing away in her nipples and between her legs, the tunnel of light was soaking up her every thought… and most wonderfully of all, she had her eyes crossed and her tongue out in the perfect pose of a stupid slut for Master. And she loved every second of it.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
A Bouncing, Giggling Confession
"Look, can I tell you something kind of weird? Like, I mean… okay, maybe it's really weird, but if I don't say something about it pretty soon I think my head's going to explode. It's just that, um, well, you remember that stupid choker you gave me on our trip to Puerto Rico a few months ago? I don't mean actually stupid, sorry, that sounded mean, but you know. It was just a little silly impulse buy, and I don't think either one of us expected me to ever wear it, and--oh. You did? Well, um, then I guess I have good news. I haven't been able to take it off in weeks.
"I don't mean like it's stuck, or anything. God, if it was I'm pretty sure I'd be dead by now, it's right around my neck. No, I just mean that every time I think about taking it off, I somehow change my mind before my fingers can actually do it, and I don't… I mean, I don't really think about why I don't want to take it off anymore, I just kind of let my hand fall to my side and lose track of what I was doing. Honestly, I kind of forget I'm even wearing it now unless I see myself in the mirror, and then I just kind of get this warm happy feeling thinking of you and the time we spent together. Not, like, um, in a romantic way or anything, that would be--I mean, that would be weird, right? But, um, yeah. I can't take it off and I kind of don't want to try anymore.
"But, like, that's not the weird part. I mean, it's weird, but it's not the weird part. The weird part is, well, ever since I've been wearing it, I've kind of had this urge to… um… to, well… okay, look, we are friends, right? No judgment here, no funny looks, no getting freaked out when we talk about real shit. If I say, 'Ever since I've been wearing this choker, I've had this bizarre urge to bounce my big tits around,' I don't want to hear a single laugh out of you, okay? Because I know how it sounds. I know how fucked up it is. But it's true. I just, I keep wanting to stand in front of a mirror, or, or another person, and just sway and jiggle until my boobs are flopping all over the place. And when I do, I….
"I laugh. Like, a lot. Like, just these really helpless, dumb giggles that feel like they're filling up my head with bubbles until I can't think anymore and all I want to do is keep bouncing my big t-titties like a stupid s-slut--sorry, it's just, it's kind of getting to me. It's really hard to stop myself from doing it right now, right here in front of you, and I know if I did I'd get all dumb and ditzy and, and… oh. Um, s-sorry. I guess I didn't wear a bra today. Or anything under my jacket. I, uhh, I've been having a real hard time resisting the urge lately, it kind of started as just this silly little itch in the back of my head and now I--I can't, I--
"Ohhhhhh. Oh fuck does that feel good. It, f-fuck, it feels even better when you're watching me. S-so much better than the mirror, I just, I--teeheeheeeheee! S-sorry, I just, I--I can feel it, I can feel myself getting so dumb, so--teeheeheeheeheehee! I, please, you've got to take it off me, I can't, I--teeeheeeeheee, oh, oh fuck, I… I… teeeheeeheeheeheehee! Teeheeheeheehee! Heeheeheehehee! Heeheeheeeheehee! Uh huh. So dumb now. Thank you for, for making me--teeheeheeheehee! Heeheeheeheehee! Heeeheeheeheehee! Heeheeehee hee hee! Ohhh…."
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
Elle Seeks Out Validation
"So, uh, w-what do you think?" Elle assumed Warren would immediately tell her that he thought the outfit was far too much, and to go and change immediately into something that didn't center her heavy tits so dramatically or show her wide pink nipples straight through the sheer lavender fabric. Honestly, she didn't even know why she'd put it on in the first place, or why she went to her husband for approval instead of simply recognizing that the dress was far too slutty to ever be seen in out in public… but something about it had called to her, and she felt like she had to at least see what Warren thought. His approval was--it was very important to her.
And sometimes surprising. "I think it looks lovely, darling," he drawled, running his hands down the silky fabric to leave them resting possessively on her chest. "You're going to be the envy of every woman in the room… and I'm going to be the envy of every man." Despite her continuing anxiety over her appearance, Elle couldn't stop herself from squirming into her husband's touch--the honeymoon had ended only a few weeks ago, and Elle still had the enthusiasm of a blushing bride when it came to sex. And the enthusiasm of a whole new relationship, she admitted to herself; their whirlwind courtship had lasted all of a dizzying three weeks before she wound up eloping with Warren, and the way he caressed her still felt intoxicatingly new.
His other hand went to her other breast, groping and pinching her pendulous tits and stiffening nipples through the thin fabric, and even though Elle's bright blue eyes were beginning to cloud over she still heard herself ask, "Y-you don't think it's, um… too much?" It felt strange, questioning her husband's decisions, and it felt even stranger that it felt strange in the first place--Elle hadn't expected herself to fall into such immediate and automatic deference to Warren, but somehow even as far back as the first date he had a knack for getting her to go along with him. It felt almost like a kind of… a kind of hyp, hypno, hypnos… hypnos…. God, did he know just how to play with her big cow titties. It drove every other thought clean out of her head.
Warren's condescending chuckle brought her back to reality, and Elle blinked in befuddled confusion as he said, "Of course it's too much, darling. It's going to make you look like a total slut. But that's what you are, aren't you, honey? You're my dumb big-titted slut." Elle's brow furrowed as she tried to parse out the complicated emotional nuances of his statement; she felt certain that being called a dumb big-titted slut by her own husband was a bad thing, and yet his voice was so full of affection and praise and charm that he made it sound like the most wonderful idea in the world. And his fingers kept teasing Elle's nipples the whole time, suffusing all her thoughts with an all-too-familiar ecstasy that made her feel drugged and… and dopey and s-suggestible….
"I'm your dumb, big-titted slut," she heard herself reply, her voice drained of all volition, and she sighed gently as the warmth of compliance seeped into her mind and smoothed away all her worries. Warren loved her. He loved for her body and for her brain. And if he wanted the world to see her as his slutty, ditzy arm candy then that would be just fine. Elle brushed aside her skirt with a vacant smile, happy to show the man she loved that underneath her latest outfit she wasn't wearing anything at all.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)