“If You Want To Have Sex With Me All You Have To Do Is Say So. I Know You’re Wearing A Ballgag But

I want to be teased by a hot dom in a cocktail dress until I can’t take it anymore and have to grab her and bend her over and plunge my cock into her ass and make her MINE… until she says the trigger word and I realise I’m actually the one who’s being bent over and fucked and I cum realising how submissive I am and how inside my head my dom is.

Fantasy idea: I get brainwashed into stripping naked, getting onto all fours and mooing. A woman (the brainwasher probably) then sits on a stool next to me and takes hold of my dick, telling me it’s my udder and she’s going to milk me.

“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’d really like a mummydom to teach me how to go down on her strap-on with lots of soft encouragement and telling me how proud she is of me, followed by a pegging where I’m told what a good, slutty boy I’m being. Of course I’d say thank you for the kind treatment afterwards.

“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.”

A few days ago I talked about a fantasy I’d dreamt up about an ex-colleague I disliked (and, for the record, still do). This is a continuation of that, a scenario that I wouldn’t really be totally against getting into in real life…

N part II

I wake up naked in N’s bed. I can remember snapshots from the night before. I remember nodding along passively as N talked at me. I remember drinking a delicious drink. I remember finding myself in N’s flat and wanting, needing, to be naked and kissing her feet. I remember being overcome with the need to apologise to her again and again and again. And I remember having hot, sweaty sex. N had me take her from behind and, once she’d cum, had sat on my face to be licked clean.

I didn’t remember cumming myself. Because I hadn’t.

Now N is nestled against me, her naked body warm and her limbs entwined with mine. I realise I’m taking this all in very calmly and that what I actually want to do is scream and shake her awake and ask her what she’s done to me. I want to leave. I want to be gone. I want to escape whatever this situation is and pretend it never happened. I want out. But I don’t move. I lie still and watch N sleep peacefully.

Eventually N stirs and looks up at me, smiles lazily and gives me a good morning. I feel myself instinctively smile as she looks at me. I want to shake myself away from her but instead I lie there passively, smiling like an idiot. She tells me I look good when I smile, that it’s a nice improvement on my usual scowl, and I should do it more often. I want to tell her off for this, for telling me that I scowl when I actually don’t. I want to tell her I show my happiness as normally and naturally as anyone else. But I also love that she’s complimented me and want more. I want to meekly thank her.

Then her hand is on my erect penis and she’s giggling and telling me it needs taking care of. But no, that’s wrong. It’s not a penis. It’s a peeny. I have a little, unimpressive peeny and I’m very lucky N is touching it. I open my mouth to try and speak. I don’t know what I want to say. Do I want to demand answers? Do I want to thank her? Do I want to ask her to take care of my little erection? No sound comes out. My jaw just hangs open and I find that I’m vacantly staring into N’s eyes. She tells me I look stupid, so very very stupid. But she likes me to look stupid because that’s my true self. And she’s stroking me slowly and firmly, telling me how stupid and boring and rude I am, but that she’ll help me improve and become a better boy. I find I’m nodding along as I stare into her eyes, and then her pace quickens for just a few seconds and I’m cumming and cumming and cumming, grunting and moaning and humping her hand. I can feel my cock pulsing and jetting liquid into her hand, one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. And she’s telling me what a good boy I am and at that moment I so so so desperately want to be that good boy. I want to impress N. I want her approval and love and acceptance. In that moment gaining these things from her is the most important thing in the world to me.

N continues talking, informing and guiding my stupid, rude, inferior mind with her words. I’m rolling onto my front and propping myself onto all fours. And then she’s sitting in front of me and her hand appears below my face and I’m lapping up the salty treat she’s offering me. N is laughing and telling me I’m being so good, so very good. She asks me if it tastes nice. I can’t answer, I’m too busy licking her hand clean. But N seems to know this and tells me she knows I love the taste and I realise I do love the taste, she’s absolutely right. And I’m vaguely aware again of how much I hate her but I’m also grateful and thankful and I love her and need her to approve of me.

Then her hand is pressed to my face, smearing the sticky liquid all over my cheeks and lips and chin before drawing away and patting my head, wiping herself clean on my hair. N’s still laughing. She’s laughing at how stupid I look. She’s laughing at getting away with treating me like this, revelling in her acts of humiliation. I feel angry and weak, my cheeks burn with the impotence of embarrassment. She’s telling me I should thank her for such a delicious morning treat and my hatred for her sears again. She reaches forward and roughly grasps my jaw, raising my eyes to look into hers. I’m told to thank her. Her voice is icy, sharp, commanding.

I tell her I love her and thank her. She laughs uproariously. Then she’s laying back and guiding my face to her crotch. I immediately kiss and lick and suck, desperate to please and make her happy. Internally I’m screaming at this, desperate to walk out, close my eyes, just stop! But outwardly I’m passionate and attentive and I can hear myself making mewls of pleasure, blissful little sounds that indicate nothing but abject happiness. N is breathing heavily, gasping, and occasionally giving instructions which I cannot quite recall but that I know I followed immediately. I hear her tell me to thank her again and I do, my lips brushing against her lower ones as I do so.

This tips her over the edge. N giggles and squeals and moans in delight as she orgasms. After a few moments of leaving me to continue attending to her she lifts my head from her crotch and we each kneel on the bed looking into one another’s eyes. N tells me she’ll let me stay if I want to and I ask her very, very nicely. I’m furious at her arrogance and desperate, frantic, to get up and run, just run as fast and as far as I can away from her and whatever it is she’s done and is continuing to do to me. I open my mouth, determined to scream and swear and rant and threaten and declare that nothing could make me want to stay.

“I love you, N. Please, oh please, oh please may I stay here with you and be made into a better person? I want it. I need it! I’m sorry I was rude and arrogant and naughty. Please please please? I love you!” I hear myself say.

She giggles and tells me she’ll think about it as she takes hold of my head and pushes my face back down into her crotch.

I want mummy to sweet talk me onto her lap, facing her with my legs splayed easing myself down onto her strap-on. Tell me I’m such a good boy for being so willing to bounce on mummy’s cock.

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’ve not mentioned it before but the whole CFNM thing is massively appealing. The man is exposed and humiliated, the situation encouraging meekness. The woman is in complete control, able to humiliate and tease with such incredible ease.

I’d really like to experience it. Be told to strip and kneel down on the floor in front of a woman who’s seated. Given some instructions for cleaning her home, maybe handed some cleaning supplies. But nothing about her tone is gloating or draws attention to the fact I’m naked. Why would she draw attention to it? It’s the most natural thing in the world for a servant to be naked, right?

Then I’d get up and clean and maybe after a while there would be a few comments designed to lightly tease, gently humiliate. Perhaps she’d take pity on me and provide me with a uniform to stop things flopping about. Of course it would be an impractical uniform, just a pair of French knickers or a short maid outfit or something. But I’d still be thankful, and I’d still want to do such a good job of cleaning so that I impress the nice lady and I get to do this again. It’s only right that I clean up, she’s so much cleverer than me and has very important, complicated work to be doing while I’m tidying.

I’d love to wake up in a locked crib in a pink nursery, completely swaddled in a nappy and mittens, feeling groggy and not knowing how I got there. Then a demurely dressed woman who I’ve never seen before walks in and I hear myself say “Hello mummy, thank you for catching me.”