Hello, Darling

Go on then. Interact. I know you want to.

[yourperfextqueen]

Why hello there, doll. What can I help you with?

My name? Why, I don't think you get the privilege of knowing it. Your majesty works fine. As does your ladyship, ma'am, miss, or really anything else that makes it clear you understand the hirearchy. Which I'm sure you do, you seem like a smart girl. You get it, don't you? Good.

She/Her, though I don't particularly care if you use they/them. Taken.

Mostly Sapphic Kink Blog.

DNI: Transphobes, homophobes, racists, etc. Your general bigoted masses. My subjects are all equal in their patheticality and I will not stand for them being treated otherwise. Men, you can interact, but you're on thin ice, make sure you simper adequately. You get significantly more points if you're have balls enough to wear feminine clothing.

Anons welcome. Taken currently: 🔭🪐🐈‍⬛

Tags, TBD: Royal Decrees: original posts, Royal Reblogs: you'll figure it out, you're a clever girl, Royal Hearings: asks.

Kink specifics under the cut.

TW for: Abuse, abandonment, degradation, objectification, sadism, manipulation, mindbreak, general cruelty, maybe CNC, but probably not, we'll see. I usually don't do anything snuff related (seems a waste of a perfectly good cutie) but I can't promise I won't get close.

You are welcome to interact as a brat, I do find their little displays of supposed independence adorable, but get too out of line and I will not hesitate to block you, so behave.

[ace-trainer-alice]

Oh. C'mere. Sit in my lap. Let's talk through this.

To start, I don't really think that there is truly necessarily 'no such thing as the self'. We can chart out patterns of identity from context, make scientific predictions, and the results won't be fully determined by present context alone. But more than that, I think the idea of the self does have some use.

Careful. Lean back a little more. There we go, perfect. My dolly really is so sweet.

I mean, I get it. Recently you've been going through a lot of changes. It's easy to look at all of this and say that all you are is arbitrary. That your porcelain head is an empty shell. Why wouldn't it be? If the things you felt were your deepest truths could be changed in just... Let me check. -- Two months, seventeen days and five hours.

There you are. Lean into me. You don't need to worry about anything else. Just focus on my words and my touch, like usual.

Well, as I see it, everything you believe about yourself is neither true nor false. Instead, it exists on a different level. Not quite chosen, not quite determined. Constructed in the contradiction between you and not-you. The choices you make versus the experiences you have. From this, 'identity' emerges. You draw a line. But, sometimes the outside comes knocking a little too hard. Like when you met me.

There, there. Good girl. Just focus on my touch. You can think about it all later. Just focus on the feeling of my fingers. Tracing your grooves and cuts.

Thus, I think 'be yourself' puts the cart before the horse. It's a useless little platitude. But it sounds smart because people who loudly succeed always seem to be being themselves. Charisma requires such delusion. I'd agree that a well constructed mind should know the difference between inside and outside, but yours isn't very well constructed, is it? The barriers are broken down, now just about anyone could reach inside and tell you what you are.

Such a pretty dolly. There you are. Sound and touch. Hands on your body and whispers in your ear. Fall in as deep as you want.

No, if I want you to not just break down the moment I'm gone, I do need to build that shell back up again. You need a 'self', an 'identity', a line between 'you' and 'not you'. A way you can behave that isn't just in reaction. Classically, it should be all your own choices, things you're proud of, things you decided. But, I'm not very concerned with what's usually done, just what's effective.

You're really in it, huh? You must have really needed this. Such a cute toy for me. Breathe in, and out. There we go. Good doll.

So, let's get started. What things can we put within you to better explain how you expect yourself to act? What things can we put within you that you can draw on as proof that you understand yourself? What things can we put within you that will provide you a framework for how you should behave?

And then. Ah, mhm.

I suppose you're right. Right now, you don't really have a self. Not a proper one. You exist purely in reaction to me. Thus, I can put anything I want in there and you'll believe it. But that will change. And hopefully I'll craft my doll well enough that no one else will ever be able to break it ever again.

Now, let's get started on that. Let's push you all the way under. Focus on the rhythm of my touch as I unlock you.

[lady-of-vitreous-sight]

little miss anxiety disorder is walking back and forth and looking around at all the little details of the room and trying to figure out what exactly is a little wrong with everything and maybe she knows it's all in her cute little head and maybe she doesn't but either way if you tell her to calm down she's going to have to fucking kill you sorry not sorry.

[yourperfextqueen]

As I know from my own real life girlfriend, little miss anxiety disorder probably needs someone she can trust to pick up on her non-verbal queues, and gently offer to escort her into a dark room, then to have them bring her a cup of water and sit with her while talking about her anxieties, validating her feelings, and telling her why they're probably not true. She also might need a shoulder to cry on for a bit and fifteen minutes of uninterrupted hugging before she ultimately is given the choice to decide whether or not to emerge back into the rest of the world.

[yourperfextqueen]

"I like dominant women because they're direct about what they want" okay so you've only ever seen one very specific archetype of dominance. Dominant people are not a monolith. I personally prefer tiny little clues and hints, forcing someone to guess at what I want from them, watching them scramble to try to win my approval while horribly unable to parse what winning my approval would actually mean them doing. Watching their adorable little brain tick and whir as fast as it can, trying to please me, forcing them to submit every facet of themselves to my glory. But that's just me.

There are plenty of doms who are into subtle manipulation, for example. Or CNC, where the entire scene revolves often around you not being told what's happening and just being forced into whatever position you're told. Or being into hypno, when half the time you don't even know what the person you're being dommed by is doing to you. All of this must be negotiated ahead of time to be healthy, of course, but that's just healthy communication around sexuality, and you can get that in any healthy relationship. I'm just saying, stop using "I need a dominant woman to tell me what to do to make her happy, and tell me when I am displeasing her" as an excuse to not say "I would like my partner to tell me what to do to make them happy, and tell me when I am displeasing her." You can have healthy communication with a sub. You can have healthy communication with someone vanilla. If your partner refuses healthy communication, and will not allow you to talk about it, then it is time to no longer have them as a partner. Get your act together, people.

[asterismadastra]

Arousal, desperation, and need are very intertwined.

Arousal is, of course, the driving factor for much of this. Beyond anything, arousal feels very, very, pleasant.

After experiencing that, it is difficult to not crave it. Desperation becomes the driving factor. Desperation for praise, your attention, or merely relief from the building pressure.

At a certain point, after being conditioned to expect that relief, or having the arousal build until it can do so no longer, there is a need, for that relief. A dependancy, on whoever could provide it.

That dependancy is exceedingly simple to condition one into, I believe.

It would certainly be interesting, to create a relief so profound it becomes an addiction to submission, and to sensation only you can provide.

[cult-of-lilith]

Okay your punishment is that you have to tell me exactly what is you desire. No keysmashes, whines, or hiding your face. Your punishment is to tell your dom in clear and explicit detail what you want from them

[asterismadastra]

There is something to consider in the concept of willing, but intentional, obedience.

It is, generally, not very difficult to eliminate an individual’s thoughts, or occupy them entirely. That is simple. It is also, to me, rather boring.

A dominant could do anything, with a mindless slave. That is appealing to some, but I do not think it is the most interesting thing to be.

When an individual has given their thoughts to a dominant, but still remain themselves, is much more interesting. The individual is still able to be themselves, still exists within the confines of who they are.

The thing to consider is, of course, how easily changeable those confines are, in that state. The individual will likely believe anything they are told. Within that there are endless opportunities.

[godless-femininity]

To be a doll is to be a toy. Given a voicebox to please a witch, erogenous zones to stimulate those sounds, and a body to use and desecrate. The wonderful part of being a doll is how malleable one is. How easily it can be broken. Tortured. How desperately it will thank you for the torture. Pleading for more. The joy of service and praise for ones debasement is unmatched by anything.

[the-sensitive-sadist]

Sometimes the only proper course of action is to grab that angel by the hips, pin them face first against the wall, and forcefully breed them until they're a weeping, overstimulated mess

[godless-femininity]

When a doll is still it is still conscious, only unable to react to external stimuli. There are some edge cases where dolls are put to sleep for maintenance or rest however, where the doll isn't aware of its surroundings. It's crucial that you let your doll be still or sleep frequently for its well-being. But what do you do if you need it while it's asleep?

You just take it! Practicing shibari on a sleeping doll in the middle of the night as stress relief is perfect for empty little things. And if it wakes up? Just have it still itself and it'll be like it's asleep. Soft breathing leading to a gasped, breathy "M-Miss?", immediately leading to it being frozen still like it hadn't even woke up.

Depending on your doll you can do even more to it without it waking up. Impact play on a carefully positioned doll to work off stress. Even if it wakes, you can still it again and watch the fear and arousal fight in its eyes as you continue.

Dolls make perfect stress relief toys.

[ace-trainer-alice]

since i didn't say it explicitly, i should probably clarify. a human is a kind of animal, and is no exception to 'can be trained'. humans are not special. there is no magical "free will" that protects human minds from such 'manipulation' as 'communication'.

sometimes a human may be more inclined to not perform the behaviors you're looking for, but a human is a pretty intelligent creature so is usually quite responsive to conditioning once the training begins.

[diacetylmorphine-android-deacti]

slut

[transmechanicus]

loyal knight

[hail-the-villainess]

those are synonyms

[yourperfextqueen]

Post by @yourperfextqueen

💬 0  🔁 1  ❤️ 5 · I think we're all missing some real pervert potential around buses. Massive beasts of burden, controlled by a single driver

Oh, hey I made a post about this. Good to see buses finally getting the attention they deserve.

[yourperfextqueen]

The thing about dolls, as opposed to other girls, is that if you have a series of dolls which are into you, you don't have a harem, you have a collection. All sitting so still and pretty for you, and all behaving themselves so very well.

You can take them down off their shelves and gently turn them over, taking them apart piece by piece and cleaning out their joints, brushing their hair aside, retouching their pretty features with a delicate hand and brush. Feel their cool porcelain under your fingers, brush against their sculpted neck. Leave soft kisses on their pretty little foreheads. You can position them at tea parties and watch them be ever so polite as you enjoy their company, and if they ever get out of line, you just don't play with them for a few days. A doll with a good owner is often desperate for her attention, and though they might step out of line once or twice, learning that doing so gets them ignored is usually enough to make them behave.

If a doll is very very good, as a treat, it may sit at the feet of it's owner's bed. Dolls don't need much sleep, of course, but they often appreciate being in the same room as one above them who is resting. It communicates trust in their obedience. The doll will not move for the full time its owner sleeps. And in the morning, when she has awoken, the doll will be there to obediently welcome her into the new day.

If a doll cracks, or becomes comely, it is taken to the workshop. The cracked part is pried apart by carefully gloved hands until it snaps completely, then a new part is fitted and soldered in place until the replacement becomes completely invisible and the doll is unbroken porcelain once again. Most dolls prefer to be sedated for this process. There are some who are well enough behaved so this is unnecessary, and they remain awake, though most occasionally whimper.

Not all of the dolls started as dolls. Many came in the form of living, breathing girls, or occasionally a girl who said she was a boy, only with a certain dulled light in their eyes and a certain stiffness in the way they walk. They are, of course, invited in and served the first hot meal many of them have had in months. They are given warm beds and waited on by the doll-servants, showered until the grease and grime of their travel has been washed from their soul as well as their skin. They are usually shy and respectful, keeping their eyes on the ground and speaking in soft voices as to not raise the ire of anyone. It is clear they are hungry, but they do not ask for seconds. They are served them anyways, and their protestations that they are imposing are ignored. If asked, they say they do not know why they came to the castle, only that they do, and that it would feel wrong to leave. By the time they wake up from their first rest the first patches of porcelain have begin to spread. They almost never mind. If they do, they usually are too polite to request help. If they do, they are always too polite to accept "There's nothing to be done," without question. After a week or two, they will sit quietly with the other dolls on the shelf, or quietly tend to the grounds. They are quiet and empty and happy, and they have learned to wind each other's clockwork springs.

[gentle-sadist2]

The intimacy of being guided, corrected, and kept where you belong is its own kind of affection.

[misscaptor]

I hope you know your logistics posting and captive audience posting has made me yearn for something I didn't even know I wanted until I'm watching something else have it. I try to pride myself on my ability to provide, I'm seen as a very masculine dyke with a stable job and unfortunately I'm expected to be the breadwinner for it. I tell myself I would go insane without the feedback of work, that being able to pretend I'm a normal person and not a captive makes it more fun to be a captive, but oh my goodness.

Your writing, the way your captive and doll are spoken about even in passing.. I don't think I've been as envious as I am right now. I feel like I'm peeling my skin off just writing this, that somehow between the anonymous tag and what I'm sure is a distance you'll just know. Sorry. Thank you.

Oh you poor thing. Expected to behave like a person. Expected to be something you're not. Of course you're envious, it sounds to me like you're meant to be a pet. You're meant to let that weight fall from your shoulders and let someone take care of you. Poor baby.

There could be a distance. I don't know. I certainly don't know who you are, the anonymous ask feature keeps you pretty well hidden from me. I just wonder what you're so scared of. If I knew who you were, if I knew where you were, are you scared I'd try to take you? Away from the life and the identity you clearly hate? Or do you just fear being exposed, your flimsy capable masculine dyke facade falling away like tissue paper?

My possessions are capable, you know. I select for that. I think both of them could be successful, independent, maybe even breadwinning individuals if they wanted to. I think that makes it more fun. They Can succeed without me. I took a set of gorgeous, skilled, independent dykes and turned them into my forever pets just because I could. Because I decided the value they bring to me as my decorations, accessories, and companions was more important than whatever value they might provide to the world at large. I love to choose pets who are capable as non-pets. It makes it feel more like I'm stripping something away.

I'm not sure what my point is. Maybe that it makes sense that you're envious, you sound like a perfect pet. I'm sure there's an unethical kidnapper out there for you. Maybe she'll find you sooner rather than later. I hope so, sounds like you need it.

[yourperfextqueen]

Very good post, quite well-written and handled. Kidnapping isn't my thing, personally, I prefer for my sweet things to be at least semi-willing to serve when they come to me, but having complete control over someone who is capable of being so much more than a possession is to say the least quite attractive. They are part of my collection of rare and valuable things.

[hyenagirlpenis]

One crate I keep you in is large enough to try and get comfortable on the bars digging into your knees. You find switching from cross-legged to side-lying to all-fours and so on allows for enough rotation that no one position gets excruciating. If you must sleep, I add just enough padding to let you doze, though it's not very restful.

The other crate is not for extended occupation. Getting inside it requires humiliating effort, crawling and squeezing into place, hunkering your shoulders down and head in, arms nestled to your chest. Worse still is maintaining the posture I demand for easy access through the bars.

In the small, metal cage, you quickly forget the bars digging into your knees. Well, not forget, but they cede precedence to the screaming tension across your body. Every muscle agonizingly taut to remain positioned as ordered. Every breath mounting in effort as you start to shake. Sometimes you panic. Other times, the crying is a physiological reflex. Regardless, you're never there long.

Just long enough to foster gratitude for the big cage. That'll get a few weeks of complacency out of you, until you start whining again, or do some other irritating thing that needs correction.

You decide if you'll be good, which determines the crate you get. Ultimately, it's up to you. Now, how will your behavior be today?

[hyenagirlpenis]

"I'll just behave," you think. "I'll just obey and do good and make you happy, and I'll never need the other cage again." And that's a wonderful attitude and sweet sentiment, which I find quite cute. If it were enough, I could get rid of that little crate entirely and revel in your flawless, perfect presence.

But it doesn't work.

You are a living creature, imperfect, prone to error, and inevitably driven to test the limits. Maybe under stress, maybe from mundanity. In any case, the need for discipline leaks out, whether it's conscious or not, whenever you need to feel order in the world again.

Eventually, your guard slips. You relax your training. You see what you can get away with. You slide into poor behavior, because it feels good to beg for more. More favor, more pleasure, more lenience, more attention, more, more, more. You can't help it. No one can.

And that's why you listen to me. I install the guardrails in your mind that keep you good, and I maintain their condition with structure and training, reward and punishment. And eventually, when you can't help it, when you beg a little too much for laxity that'll ultimately harm you, we rip out the old guardrails and install shiny, sturdy new ones.

Into the little cage you go. I know how to evoke your best self, at least for a while. Aren't you fortunate that I'll tolerate your misbehavior to do it?

[prettyypearl]

Hurt me, but not because I was bad or disobeyed. You know I’m always good, always obedient, always desperate to please. Hurt me because you like to, because it gets you off, because I look so pretty like this. Reassure me that this is not punishment, that I’m being so good for you. You’re hurting me because it gives you pleasure, and I’m taking it so well because I would never question you.