Valiaheart - It’s Giving Weird

the “i just need to hear your voice for 5 min” down bad

Not to be like super kinky or anything but could you hold me and tell me that everything will be okay ? Sorry if I’m too kinky haha

thoughts on bimbos?

I'm under the impression they don't have many.

Don't get me wrong I love being fully passing but it can be weird sometimes.

Somebody said that they loved the name my parents choose. I'm like uhh yeah it's really nice. The urge to say I choose it myself was high.

But it can be hilarious. At the start of my apprenticeship when I hadn't gotten my name changed yet. Pretty much everybody knew because when they did attendance my name came up and then I'd say but call me Lucy please.

As my deadname was neutral this one guy didn't get it. On a random day as we were joking I made a dick joke and he was SO shocked I think I broke him for the day. He literally didn't believe me, absolutely convinced I was lying. My NB friend and I just lost it.

Fear is such a useful tool. There's the lesser fear of the knife, the fear of injury, death. And sure, that's lovely. But it's like a spark- burns hot and then it's gone.

I prefer the type of fear that lingers. The fear of starvation, the fear of being forgotten. Of losing status or the respect of a role model. Of everything you've built for yourself collapsing around you like a house of glass cards.

The type of fear that gnaws at you when you're struggling to sleep or looking through your bills.

Give me control of that fear, that tool? And I'll be able to do anything I please with you.

sometimes all a girl needs to be happy is to be degraded and humiliated by another girl while touching herself

STOP treating me with respect or like a person. I’m porn. I’m a pet. I’m property.

"Position."

You drop to your knees before the word's even finished leaving my lips. Hands behind your back. Eyes down. Back straight. Knees spread just enough to show you know your place—obedient, eager, owned. The shift in your posture is immediate, seamless, practiced to the point of perfection, like your body has memorized what I expect and delivers it without a second thought.

I watch you settle. The way your breathing evens out. The way your muscles go soft under the command, tension draining from you like you've slipped into something familiar and safe. It's not just habit. It's instinct. Something deeper. Something trained and nurtured over time, until this pose became less of a performance and more of a truth—your truth.

I smile.

Good pup.

"Did you miss this?" I ask quietly, stepping close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off me.

"Yes, Mommy," you breathe, voice small and steady.

"How much?"

"So much it hurts."

I circle you slowly, savoring the moment, the leash already in my hand. You hear the soft jingle of the clip brushing my thigh and your ears twitch, metaphorically—or maybe not, depending on thenight. There are nights when the line between roles blurs so thoroughly that you are my puppy, not just acting the part. And tonight, I can already see you slipping—willingly, blissfully—into that headspace. You're deep in it now. Open. Vulnerable in the most beautiful way.

"You want all those things, don't you?" I ask as I circle behind you.

"Yes, Mommy," you whisper, voice already dripping with need. "Please..."

My fingers trail along your jaw, then down your throat. I feel the hum of your submission just under the skin, that subtle shiver of awareness that always blooms when I touch you like this—delicate, but laced with ownership. My touch dips lower, across your chest, pausing just long enough to remind you who it belongs to. Who you belong to.

"You're beautiful," I murmur, crouching beside you, lowering myself just enough that you feel my breath near your ear. My hand cups your chin, lifting your face just enough that I can see the shine in your eyes, wide and waiting. "And so eager to be used."

"Please use me, Mommy," you say, not even trying to hide the desperation in your voice now. "I need it. I need to be yours."

Your breath stutters. You nod. Not because you're unsure, but because words would only get in the way. That small, breathy movement is enough—it tells me everything.

Good puppy.

Hope glows behind your gaze. That look—the one that says you'd crawl through fire just to be toldyou pleased me. That look that melts into desperation and loyalty and love, all tangled together in the way you look up at me like I'm the center of your world.

"Say it again," I whisper.

"I'm yours."

"Louder."

"I'm yours, Mommy. Only yours."

I reach for your collar, the one you wear only for me. The soft leather is warm from your skin, shaped perfectly to your throat. The leash clicks into place with a satisfying snap, and I tug—not harsh, just firm. A reminder. A claim. A connection.

"You've needed this, haven't you?" I ask.

You nod, a quiet moan escaping as the leash pulls your neck gently. "So badly... I ache for it."

"You ache for me," I correct, voice firm. "Don't forget the difference."

"Yes, Mommy. I ache for you."

You shuffle forward on your knees with no hesitation, your body already slipping into movement like it's muscle memory.

"You're not just my sub now," I say, running the leash through my fingers as I walk, my voice steady, calm, with just enough edge to make your breath hitch again. "You're mine in every sense. My pretty little pet. My sweet, obedient creature."

"Yours," you say under your breath, like a mantra. "Always."

You whine softly at that—high, breathy. It makes my chest tighten. That sound is everything: need, gratitude, devotion. It hits me deep, because I know exactly what it means coming from you.

"Now," I say, voice warm but commanding, a tone you know to obey without pause, "be my good puppy and follow Mommy."

"Yes, Mommy."

You drop fully to all fours. Palms flat. Knees padded. Back arched just right. You follow behind me, crawling in sync with the gentle tugs of the leash, each pull a wordless direction you understand without needing speech.

"You're doing so well," I say softly, glancing back as you crawl. "So proud of my perfect pet."

I need someone cruel to kick me till I cry and then make me grind on their boot untill I cum

I want them to grip me by the neck so I have to look into their eyes as I degrade myself for their entertainment

Manifesting so hard pleaseeeeee

Ugh, where's a sub with a greedy little mouth for me to use when I need it most, hm?

Oh?

Right here?

This adorably thirsty little pet?

Well hello there, sweet thing. Aww look at you squirming, excited already? Yeah? You wanna please Mommy? God, you're the most precious thing I've ever seen.

Well, I've had a long day, little love. Please just let Mommy lock her thighs around your shoulders, and keep you there for a little bit. Well, maybe not a little. Who needs a vibrator when I've got such a hungry darling already on their knees for me, aching to show me their skills, hm? I can see how excited and squirmy you are, but look at me right now, there we go, eyes on me. Good job. I need you to be my favourite fucktoy tonight. Can you do that for me? Yeah?

Repeat what I need from you.

That's right baby, good job!! So who's Mommy's favourite fucktoy? There we go! Look at that smile. Keep that mouth open for me now <3