This Is One Of The Greatest Tumblr Posts I’ve Ever Read. I Absolutely Love It.

“Remember baby boy, don’t cum and stay dumb. Mummy likes you dumb.”

Love the idea of being all weak and confused from brainwashing and drugs and knowing I want to fight mummy off but not being able to. Hearing “Hush now, mummy’s got something to keep you quiet” as I’m overpowered and forced down to my knees, where mummy’s cock is thrust into my mouth.

Yesterday on the way home an Indian woman got onto the train in tiny, tight white hot pants. She had beautiful brown skin and wonderfully thick thighs. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over at her every few seconds. I think I just wanted to be caught and confronted and embarrassed. I was so desperate to kneel down in front of her and worship.

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.

I want to be on my knees sleepily tugging on mummy’s skirt. “Think for me please, mummy…”

“Hard cock and empty head, that’s how mummy likes her good boy.”

Tell me I’m mummy’s big, strong boy as you make me cum after ten seconds of humping your leg.

I want to be taught to get silly and highly excited and touch myself whenever a particular woman with mummy attributes appears on TV. Someone like Liza Tarbuck or Kate Garraway or Ruth Langsford. I just love the idea of being unable to stop myself from losing control over a late middle-aged woman as a sexy mummy sits on the couch behind me laughing and gently encouraging me, deepening my fixation with the presenter.

Brainwash me into identifying as Tinkerbell from the Disney Peter Pan, complete with very short dress and inability to speak but without the sassy attitude. Make me loyal to you and compliant and desperate to serve you with magic… and maybe convince me giving blowjobs to strap-ons is “magic.”

This morning a woman wearing a long, flowing ankle-length white dress sat opposite me on the train. I could make out her big boobs through the dress. I couldn’t stop thinking about being put over her knee all the way to work. To the point where I thought about trying to talk to her. But I didn’t. I know my place.