Latest Posts by knowmewell - Page 5
Fantasy idea: a super religious Christian woman kidnaps me and brainwashes me into thinking she’s God’s representative on Earth, leaving me to worship, adore and obey her, completely and without question.
I really like being told how compliant I am. There’s such a big clinical and detached feeling about it. It’s also something society thinks of as a bad thing for people to be. Tell me I’m a good, compliant boy and I’m putty in your hands.
I want to be turned into a stupid, obedient premature ejaculator so much. Make me so far gone that I’m proud of how quickly I spurt for you. Have me come in and perform for your friends then thank you for the privilege. I want to be ruined and happy about it.
Take my mind away from me and make me a good slutty boy who begs passionately and desperately to perform housework and suck mummy’s strap-on.
Give me a woman who’ll make me wear nothing but crotchless lingerie as I’m doing household chores.
“I can see you need some relief, baby. Why don’t you strip naked and get down on all fours for me. You can look at the pretty spiral you like so much while I remind you how fun it is to be empty-headed for me. If you ask very nicely I’ll tell you about the hard fucking I got last weekend.”
Yesterday evening on the tube there were a mother and toddler sitting opposite me. The mother was wearing a thin-strapped, low cut vest top and no bra. She had massive boobs. The toddler was pulled into the mother and made to suck a bottle for several minutes. I was incredibly jealous.
I want to watch a woman apply lipgloss. Her lips get thicker and wetter and shinier the more she applies. I can’t look away. I don’t want to. The motion and the shine are so wonderfully mesmerising. Those lips are so plump that they fill up my whole mind. And I realise that she’s talking. I’m watching those perfect lips mutter instructions to me that I know I’m taking in, I just don’t need to consciously hear them right now.
And now I’m asking if I can please make squirties as I look at those lips. I’m fantasising about gliding my little peeny in between those beautiful, sumptuous, plump lips and squirting. But I’m not allowed. That’s for big boys. Little boys like me are satisfied with watching that lipgloss get applied.
Next Saturday I’m doing a day at work with just me and my boss. I’ve developed a bit of a crush on her lately. She’s really nice and friendly and has a nice plump bum. She can be taken as a soft domme in a lot of ways. I’ve been idly fantasising about how hot it would be to tell her about a bunch of my fantasies and for her to respond by telling me that I’ve been such a good boy telling her and that my reward can be pressing my face into her bare backside and humping between her legs. Having her then tell me that I’m a naughty boy for making such a mess and that she’ll be locking me in chastity would be the icing on the cake. I’d love to be locked up by a soft domme boss, especially her.
“Remember baby, little-dicked boys don’t need a brain. Let’s keep you locked up and shrinking for just one more week…”
“But baby, if you go out with your friends who will give mummy a foot rub tonight? Exactly, no one will, and we can’t have that can we? Mummy thinks it’s best if you stay in with her. In fact maybe I should call your friends and have a talk with them about being bad influences on you. Or maybe we should just stop you having friends altogether. What do you think? Yes exactly, you think whatever mummy says. What a good boy!”
I want to eat out of mummy’s hand like I’m her little puppy dog. She could tousle my hair and call me a good boy. Maybe she could lower her hand as I meekly go to take another mouthful, to the point where I’m practically eating off the floor. And then mummy could gently remind me that I’d be eating off the floor if not for her great kindness, making me love her even more.
It’s a small thing but something that always triggers me on the Underground is Pretty Little Thing posters. Do an image search for PLT if you’re not familiar. All the models seem to be particularly hot. The clothing gives the impression of being raunchy and revealing but isn’t especially. It’s just tight and occasionally short or low cut. The models look like they’d be good at laughing at and humiliating little boys who are too easily aroused.
Switch off my mind and give me a high heel to play with on the floor as you relax for the evening.
I really want a mummydom who’ll seduce me into being a willing participant in my own enslavement. I want to be completely besotted and tell mummy the best way to sink her hooks further into me, how best to mess up my mind and completely manipulate me.
“That’s it baby, look at the spiral. The spiral reminds you of things doesn’t it? Like how lovely it is to be naked and kneeling for mummy. Why don’t you take your clothes off for me? Good boy…”
“I know you’re upset that I’m going on a date tonight. I understand but sometimes mummy just needs grown up conversation and a really big cock. Why don’t you kneel down here as I’m getting ready? I’ll finish you off just before I leave.”
“Baby you know your peeny is too small for sex. Take your frillies off, get on all fours and you can have two minutes of humpies with mummy’s hand. But you won’t need that long will you?”
I want to be locked up by a really affectionate woman. Kiss me. Snuggle with me. Grope me. Make me whine and groan and be so totally needy and desperate. Just give me all the physical affection. Being with someone really physical and unable to get hard is such a great combo.
Give me a daily routine to complete then take away or deny access to key components of it. Leave me weeping and broken because I’m unable to complete my servitude as I know I should. Then make me so happy and thankful when you come along and fix everything so that I can serve you again.
Put me into a deep trance, dress me in a short skirt and a tight top, then take me for a walk. Sit with me on a bench and put your hand up my skirt to fondle me. Tell me what a good boy I’m being for mummy.
Tell me I’m mummy’s big, strong boy as you make me cum after ten seconds of humping your leg.
Make me emotionally and financially dependent on you. Give me a very small, strictly controlled allowance. Make me desperate for your praise. Just manipulate and control me and make me absolutely adore you despite you treating me badly!
“Oh honey, of course you can cum. You can cum whenever you want, you know that. But mummy would prefer you not to. Because mummy likes you needy and horny, you’re much more fun to play with that way. Mummy wants you to be happy, but you NOT cumming makes mummy happy. And you want to make me happy. Don’t you, sweetie?”
Strip me naked, pull my head into your lap, and give me a slow, lazy handjob as you tell me what a good boy I am for you. Maybe take off your top so I can see your bra, but I don’t get to see anything more than that. Tell me that letting myself be trained and manipulated makes me so good and the longer I go between orgasms the more pleased you’ll be with me.
N part III
N thinks about my desperate plea to stay with her as I provide a few more orgasms to her. Afterwards she says yes. I’m absolutely elated that she’s allowing me to stay. I hate myself for this. I can see the basic manipulation she’s employing: she knows she’ll say yes but holds off on saying so to make me worry she’ll say no, which makes me more thankful at the eventual yes. I can see it but I’m powerless to act or bring it up. All I can do is obey her.
N pulls on a dressing gown and leads me, still naked, from her bedroom into the flat’s lounge. I feel exposed, helpless, vulnerable, and something about that feels very exciting to me. She settles me onto the couch and gently ties my hands together, then my ankles. I sit passively and allow this, screaming at myself to move or fight back, this is the perfect chance. But I just sit and allow N to bind me, a stupid idiot smile on my face because the traitorous part of my mind wants to make N happy and knows she wants me to smile. N said I look good when I smile.
N busies herself around the room and I find myself watching her. Her gown rides up and I see a hint of white, flabby buttock. It comes a little loose at the front and I see her breasts hanging free, catch a hint of nipple before she pulls it closed, seemingly unaware of what I’ve seen and the raging erection I detest myself for having. I don’t even know why I have it. N is not physically attractive to me. It must be the admitted eroticism of the situation, having my mind affected, or perhaps some sort of training she’s snuck into me.
Then N is standing over me and I’m looking up into her eyes. She tells me she’s going to make me better by making sure I’m permanently passive and pliable and submissive. I won’t be rude or argumentative any more. I won’t want to scowl or argue. I’ll just want to let N take care of everything for me. I’ll understand that N knows best and I’ll want to defer to her and let her make my decisions for me. I’ll be weak and mindless and obedient, and I’ll thank N for making me that way.
I sum up all my mental strength, absolutely desperate to stop this and get out. I force my mouth open, trying to push out the word no. But my jaw just hangs slack. I try to shake my head. I manage to move it a fraction of an inch to the right but as I move it back the other way it comes to rest where it started as I stare up at N. She’s smiling a broad smile. I’m convinced she knows. She knows I’m trying to get away and she’s enjoying watching the struggle. She knows I’m losing to her.
As I continue my futile pushback N brings her hand up to my jaw and gently pushes it closed. Some part of me knows that was my final chance and I blew it. I stare at N’s breasts, hanging out of her gown as she leans forward and pushes earphones into my ears. Her hand returns to my chin, gently lifting my head upward so that I’m looking into her eyes. She blows me a kiss and I feel myself return an eager smile. I begin to think about how disappointed I am in myself, how angry I am with the situation, but soothing music and tinkly sounds and N’s voice start up in my ears and I realise within moments that it’s so much better to listen to them than be angry.
N leaves. I’m alone and naked and listening to a recording. But I realise I’m happy. I’m happy that N will make me better and take care of me and break down the boy I used to be to make me someone better. I’m so lucky to have found someone as caring and giving as N. And she’s cute too. How had I not realised that before? She’s cute and intelligent and successful and I’m the opposite of these things. My role should be to make N’s life better in any way I can. I should support N by submitting my life to hers. That’s the sensible thing to do.
And gradually I zone out. Maybe I fall asleep, I don’t know. Time passes but I don’t know how much. It doesn’t matter. What matters is listening and learning. Occasionally I become lucid for a moment or two to find N standing over me watching me listen, or switching around the earphones, or casually molesting my little peeny. And I’m so happy to see her and be touched by her and have her attention before I drift away back into my lovely trance.
I come back around. It’s like slowly waking up from the most peaceful, relaxing, refreshing sleep ever. I can’t wait to see N and show her how good and obedient I can be. How well I can passively follow instructions and allow her to think for me. The part of me that hates N is still here but it’s subdued so it has to watch on as I obey and worship and unconditionally love N. It’s part of how I’ll become a better boy, having that little kernel of hatred locked away inside me being worn down by my love and adoration of N. Eventually it will see that it should have been loving and worshipping and listening to N all along.
As I continue to wake up I realise I’m lying down on the couch and I’m wearing what feels like a onesie. And a nappy. It’s a strange sensation. I’ve never worn one as an adult and it feels bulky and restrictive but also comfortable and right. I realise I’m very thirsty. My mouth is dry, like I haven’t drunk anything for a day or two.
Then the door clicks open and I see N sweep into the room and she is a beautiful vision of loveliness. I had never appreciated how sexy and cute and pretty and fuckable she looked before. I feel my peeny harden in my nappy and try to greet N but there’s something strapped into my mouth stopping me. So I just smile up at her around it. And she smiles back! I know it’s a smile of condescension and triumph, but it’s still a smile from a strong, beautiful woman who is so much more than I could ever hope to be.
And then N is sitting down with my head in her lap and she’s removing whatever’s in my mouth and I’m staring up at her hoping I’ll get to speak. But N slips a bottle into my mouth and it’s the yummy, delicious liquid I like so much. I settle back and feel warm and safe and protected as I suck my bottle and N talks to me. I can’t remember what she’s saying but I know it’s true and very important and it will stay with me even though I can’t exactly remember it. I finish the bottle then drink another. And another. N has to force the third one into my mouth and hold it there and I realise I like N overpowering me and making me do things so I smile blissfully around the bottle in my mouth.
I begin to wet myself as I near the end of the sixth bottle. N coos at me and tells me how good I am when she realises. She says maybe she’ll keep me in nappies forever. And then she’s spoon feeding me a mushy paste that tastes similar to the yummy liquid and I eat it all up like a good boy and N tells me I’ve been very well behaved and taken to my training so well. She tells me I’m more submissive than she expected and that will make it easier. I don’t know what “it” is but I’m so happy I’ve made N pleased.
Then N is standing up and telling me it’s bedtime. I try to stand and walk but my body can’t seem to remember how. N settles me onto on fours and tells me if I can’t walk like a big boy maybe I should just crawl like the baby I am. And then I’m crawling after her, looking up her dress at her wobbly thighs and big pants and I’m in heaven. I realise I’m drooling at the sight and then N is turning around because she’s stopped walking and I worry that I’ll be in trouble for looking up her dress at her lovely bottom but I can’t help it and I’m still drooling… but N simply laughs at me and motions me into a large cot. N fastens a large dummy into my mouth and I feel more drool running down my already slick chin.
N tells me it’s bedtime and I have to be good and go to sleep like a good boy. I nod sleepily, trying to let her know I’ll do everything I can to be a good boy. Then she’s turning the light off and a recording starts up. This time it’s not in my ears it’s on some speakers. I’m so happy I get to listen to N’s voice and teachings as I drift off. N leans over the cot and tells me I belong to her now and there’s no escape. I’ve never felt happier, even with a tiny part of my mind screaming at me to rebel.
N walks out. A lock clicks shut behind her and I drift off to sleep as I stare at the early evening light filtering in through the curtains and listen to N’s beautiful voice.