Month: October 2014
How long has it been?
It seems like an eternity.
The vibe and plug alternate,
first one sending vibrations through your body,
then the other, but never enough…
never enough to push you over the edge…
you want to cum so badly don’t you?
Will I allow it?
I didn’t yesterday did I?
Nor the day before that.
How long has it been?
A few days? A week?
And each day you find yourself here again…
Why am I doing this?
I want your need to consume you,
to devour the rational thoughts in your head,
for your soaking wet cunt to become the focus of your existence…
Are we there yet do you think?
Perhaps another week or two of this every morning and every night…
Exactly! (Well the words at least, perhaps not quite this level of bondage as pictured above.) I want to be the Master of your pleasure, and through it, to control you utterly. I will tend to and cultivate your need until it is a creature onto its self. A force of nature that you lack the strength to resist. I will watch with evil glee as your need consumes your rational brain, and when it has eaten your last perception of anything out side of your need to be fucked and to cum, I will grant you that last release, finally shattering that last bit of self that could comprehend her own need. And when it is done I will pick up the fragments and lovingly re-build you as my adoring bimbo-slave. My precious pleasing pleasure puppet.
Having gone a month (so far) without orgasm, with a rather high level of teasing during about half of it (the half I wasn’t suffering from major illness), I can say that it doesn’t necessarily break your brain. There’s this thing that happens at about the three week point (for me, though I have heard others say similar), where it becomes the “new normal” and you kind of learn to function. So rather than being a shattering, it’s more of a slow remolding into this… new thing. Bimbo, slut, cum bucket, whatever you call us. 🙂
It’s a wonderful thing, too… because as slow as it is, I’m aware of most of the changes (and I can look back at my tumblr to see them, as well). I’m watching myself turn into this ravening creature. And I love it…
unixslut’s comments explain why, with some subs after a certain point, orgasms are sadistic. They shatter the new and preferable normal. If unixslut were to cum, I’m guessing she’d probably end up looking at porn, teasing herself, and thinking slutty thoughts more… not because she’s horny, but because feeling desperate makes her feel wonderfully owned.
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This is beautiful. And on the topic of sleepovers and kids getting stuck in uncomfortable situations: My mom and I had a code, ever since my first sleepover. I would always call home to say goodnight, and if I asked “How is the cat doing?”, it meant that I wasn’t comfortable and I wanted her to pick me up. I did use this code a few times, and whenever I did, my mom came up with the excuses for me. I was never stuck at a sleepover I didn’t want to be at – and as a child with anxiety and social phobia, this was a great system.
posts like these are the reason i love tumblr
Once, I was at a friend’s birthday party, and they began to play strip poker and 7 minutes in heaven and immature stuff like that. I am the biggest virgin that you’ve ever known, so I pretended like my phone was vibrating, punched in my mom’s speed dial, and when she answered, I said “Hey mom, whatcha need? *Pause* oh, okay. So I have to come home now? Yeah, sorry, I’ll clean my room right when I get there. *pause* ten minutes? Okay, that works. See ya.” and she understood exactly what I wanted, and she came and picked me up, and even scolded me in front of my friends for ‘not cleaning my room’. I’ve used this so many times, it isn’t funny. My mom is so understanding each time.
And now I must hug my mother and post 5 million mom appreciation posts.
(hugs this)
This. is. IMPORTANT. I had a couple of really bad experiences with sleepovers as a child (one which genuinely terrified me), and it honestly has affected me my whole life. To this day, going into anyone’s home makes me feel anxious and out of control.
Whether it’s a sleepover or just a birthday party, my child will always have a ‘panic button’, and I will go get them out of there.
