“Mummy’s Busy Working, Baby. She Has To Work To Earn Money To Give You Treats And Toys. We Can Play

I’ve got a date tomorrow with an older woman who has big boobs. I hope she decides to keep me and make me her humpy pet.

“Remember baby, little-dicked boys don’t need a brain. Let’s keep you locked up and shrinking for just one more week…”

I really really really want a girlfriend to lock me up and cuck me, tease me with promises of being released that never materialise.

“Please may I have a cummie this evening, mummy, please?”

“Oh baby, I was about to tell you you could have a cummie tonight but now you’ve asked I can’t. You know the rules. No asking for cummies ever. You’re going to have to wait at least another month now. But don’t worry, I’ll be here to help you cope.”

Really wish I had a domme running my life and keeping me locked for Loctober right now.

I want to paint mummy’s toenails for her before she goes out on a date then kiss her feet goodbye and thank her for dating other guys.

The idea of being made to get a tramp stamp, and it being referred to as a tramp stamp, so that a mummy can make fun of me and call me a slut and tell me no woman will ever want me, is very very hot.

Being hypnotised so that when your owner fastens your collar around your neck you become completely blank and mindless and unable to resist a single command or suggestion. Then being hypnotised to resist collaring… but also unable to move.

Imagine the desperation you would feel to keep the collar away but being powerless to even turn your head.

Sometimes I write these updates out on the train to work to be published later. I always hope that a woman is going to be sat next to me, reading what’s typed out of the corner of her eye. After a few minutes she’d lean over and whisper “Don’t worry, little boy. Mummy’s found you.”

I want a relationship where a dominant woman cuts me off from all friends and family and gradually makes me more and more reliant on her until I’m totally broken and subservient and reliant on her.