It’s been mentioned to me that my last little story needed background - that it wasn’t clear that this story was, in fact, based on my actual weekend. That I did, in fact, degrade myself, humiliate myself, edge and suck until it was hard to think about anything else. That I put my hair up in pigtails, and dressed myself up like a doll, and put a pacifier in my mouth all because I was told to. And now I’m posting this, because good little maids, and good little bimbos, do what they’re told.
At work, or out and about, I have to pretend to be a serious lady. A smart lady. A respectable lady. But of course that’s a lie. How could that be true, such a silly little toy being smart or serious, being dignified or proud. That all ends at the door. That’s where the pretending stops. That’s where the real Fifi is. A silly doll. A dumb doll. A humiliated doll. A doll with an awful, embarrassing, pink name; a submissive doll, not to be taken seriously. A doll with no pride, no dignity. Of course not. Dolls don’t need pride, or dignity, or all those other silly things.
Dolls need to do what they’re told, and be what they’re told. Dolls need to be good little wiggly, desperate bimbos; pretty toys to be played with, pretty, empty brains to be messed with. The old you might not want an oral fixation, might not want to dress up like a bit of fluff, or wear those heels, that skirt, that top. But the old you is gone, so put that stupid, degrading thing in your mouth and start sucking like a brainless babydoll. You begged not to have to wear the ballgag, then you begged to have it back when it was that or the pacifier, and you lost both times. You don’t get to decide - he decides. You are what you are told to be. A pretty maid. A slutty schoolgirl. A toy in skin-tight dresses or nothing at all. An open mouth. A presented ass. Constantly wet, constantly needy, constantly weak, pliable, and helpless.
dailybridgerton
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kianamaiart
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germansingergirl
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