Okay But Going Off My Last Reblog I Fucking LOVE Being Renamed. Like Stripping My Identitty Away Even

My brain is fried mommy you’re right but that’s all the more reason to let you take control instead right?

So I’ll just sit on my knees with my legs parted slightly, shoulders back and my mouth wide open for you mommy…… I promise I’ll be a good little victim for you to bully.

- 🫀

Mmm… you seem like the kind of girl who begs for my riding crop.

Such a sweet little thing… you're probably already trembling, trying so hard to act like you’re not absolutely soaked from just thought of of my voice. But I know. I bet your thighs press together at the mere idea of it. That your breath stutters when I mention words like slap and sting.

You want it, don’t you?

You want me to drag the crop along your soft, warm skin... tap, tap, strike, until you're biting your lip and try not to cry too soon. You want me to mock the way you gasp, the way your body twitches like it's mine already.

Aww… what’s that? A whimper?

Poor little heart.

You're so cute when you’re scared of what’s coming but desperate to be ruined anyway. Don’t worry, little one. Mommy won’t hurt you too much. Just enough to make you blush when I call you my pathetic little mess.

You’ll take it for me, won’t you? Every slap. Every degrading little word. You’ll grind against my thigh like the obedient, filthy girl you are, tears clinging to your lashes while you moan for more.

Because that’s what you really want… To be broken down gently. To be bullied with a smile. To hear me laugh while I tell you how ridiculous you look begging for permission to fall apart.

But shhh, my sweet girl… you know how this ends.

With soft hands pulling you close. With my lips brushing against your ear. With my voice turning low and sweet again as I kiss your damp cheeks and whisper

“There’s my good girl. You did so well for me. Now let me hold what’s left of you.”

No scientific stuff on this btw but you look really good when you eat a strawberry like you’re kissing it I like that

Yall remember that chocolate increases horniness! Completely unrelated note there’s a chocolate fountain on the table feel free to grab some and dip them in the chocolate chip ice cream with chocolate syrup and we can watch Netflix and you can wrap your arm around me while the chocolate makes me seem a little more attractive to you then you pounce on me like a wild animal taking what’s yours I drool and you put your chocolate covered fingers in my mouth

Did that bring all the girls to the yard if not I have chocolate milkshakes hehe 💜

💋 cnc mention 💋

talking a girl through it while she begs me to stop,

"oh baby i know... i know... i know it hurts but youre doing so good for me..."

talking a girl through it while she's sobbing and her body is recoiling from forced orgasm after forced orgasm,

"it's okay baby you can take it, can you take it for me ?"

when her brain is corrupted and perverted and she can't think straight any more, she cant move her body anymore without your help and she cries out

"yes i can take it... i'm yours to use-"

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

I think it'd be really cool if someone saw how pathetic and useless I am and decided that I'm their property now and they're gonna take care of me.

NEEEEEEDDDD PLEASEEEEEEE

TW// impact play

I really need a pain slut <3 someone who begs to be used and abused.

The thought of slapping someone right in their face and watching their eyes light up every time it happens. The feeling of my hands around their neck and choking them while they look at me. Releasing my hands then slapping them again to hear their gasps for air and whimpers of pleasure~

Slapping their chest even harder than their face just to hear the yelps and desperate pleas. I’d grab onto their hips a little too tightly, then sink my teeth into the sides of their neck. Pain sluts enjoy being prey after all~

Laying a bruised up cutie across my lap and spanking their gorgeous ass. Kick your feet up, wiggle, or resist at all and I’ll keep spanking you. If you make a sound while I’m giving you what you so desperately need, I’ll keep spanking you more and more. I wanna bruise you so badly. Let me suck on your inner thighs and leave hickeys there too. Then I’d hurt you with my girldick oh so badly~ I’d dick down your pretty mouth and thrust as hard as I could. I wanna hear you gag. I wanna use your spit and tears as lube while I ruin your mouth. Before you can catch your breath, I’ll be behind you, spreading your cheeks open and forcing my girldick deeply into your tight little ass. I wanna feel my dick in your stomach while I pull your hair back. Let out your pretty moans and groans while I breed you~

After I’m done marking what’s mine, I’d love to kiss every place that I left a hand print, bruise, and hickey. You’d be so sensitive; even the slightest touch from my lips would drive you wild 💋 watching my cum leak out of your ass onto your crotch while I call you a good pet would be perfect rn~

I’m debating… I have some kinks I want to like rant about and just go absolute batshit but then like 60% of people will think I’m really gross

Aka do I ruin my namesake for the funnies or make a secondary blog like day 3 back on tumblr this is definitely either a make or break mental health edition

Stop pretending like you can be human and get by in this society. Let me do that so you can focus on being perfect for me.

"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."

What doesn’t kill me gives me kinks that are difficult to explain