I Want To Watch A Woman Apply Lipgloss. Her Lips Get Thicker And Wetter And Shinier The More She Applies.

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.

Collar me, attach a leash, and slip the handle around your ankle so I have to crawl around after you and can only see your feet. Nothing more arousing for a leashed, chaste puppy slave.

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.

Fantasy idea: you’re relaxing in a warm, soapy bath when you get a voicenote from your crush. You reach a steaming hand out of the bath, suds dripping down to the floor below, grab your phone and press play.

“Knock knock,” says your crush.

And just like that you’re triggered. You find yourself stepping out of the bath and walking, pink, wet, and naked, to the front door. You open it to find your crush looking hot and in charge and so absolutely fuckable and you find yourself sinking to your knees as they step past you into your home, completely in control of your feeble little mind.

You’re cold and naked and vulnerable, totally unable to move without being told. And you’ve never been more turned on.

Give me an indulgent mummydom who coos and baby talks me and gives me soft encouragement and finger fucks my mouth as I pathetically hump her leg.

Put me in skimpy panties and objectify me. Tell me how much you like seeing my cheeks jiggling, like they’re going to wreck the perilously stretched fabric of my pretty panties at any moment.

Fantasy idea: a performance appraisal at work. My boss tells me she’s very pleased with my work and that I’m a valued team member and she really enjoys working with me… but she’s noticing lapses in focus due to me looking at my phone too often. She suggests keeping me in chastity and authorising and-or overseeing any releases I have for “the foreseeable future.”

Give me an ill-informed, right wing Karen-type keeping me isolated and telling me how to think. Making me pliant and thoughtless and believing everything I currently hate is actually right and proper. Poison my mind and my morals.

My favourite thing that I’ve ever posted on here was my story about N. I’ve tried writing a fourth part so many times but every time I do I end up getting carried away, humping and spurting ten losing interest until the next time.

I want to write it though. Because it’s a fun story to think about, but absolutely definitely really truly not something I’d want to happen IRL at all under any circumstances.

So several months ago I went on a date. She was nice and she was demanding and she had big boobs and I could tell she’d have been softly nurturing and gently demanding in a relationship. She was even a nanny!

For reasons I won’t go into she wound up making comments I felt were a little too personal for someone I’d only met once and we haven’t spoken since. There was no big argument or anything, and she actually messaged me a week or so after but I (I think maybe foolishly) ignored her.

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking about her more and more and I kind of want to send her a really simpy, subby message telling her about how I want to be her good, obedient boy (she already had a sense of my nature before we even met). There’s just something so hot about the idea of apologising even though I don’t think I was in the wrong and asking her to allow me to make it up to her with chastity time and foot worship and… and just letting her run my life, basically.

Just typing this out has made me really keen to message her. If anyones wants to give me their thoughts in an inbox it would be appreciated.