Your gateway to endless inspiration
“I know you’re trying baby. That’s what makes it so sad. You try your hardest and you still fail. Time to stop trying now. Time to switch off and be mummy’s naughty fucktoy.”
Tattoo me. Brand me. Mark me as YOURS. Preferably with a slutty tramp stamp that draws attention to my mummy issues.
“Mummy’s very busy now, baby. She’s got to call her friends and then do some work, so you have to be gagged so you’re not a distraction. You can sit quietly and paint mummys toe nails for her so she looks good at the weekend. Do a good job and maybe I’ll let you hump my feet.”
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.
Hold my hand in a leading manner and tell me to watch your bum sway as we walk. I’m not clever enough to lead, I’m mummy’s little follower and watching that swaying is my reward.
I want to be locked up by a really affectionate woman. Kiss me. Snuggle with me. Grope me. Make me whine and groan and be so totally needy and desperate. Just give me all the physical affection. Being with someone really physical and unable to get hard is such a great combo.
Tell me I’m mummy’s big, strong boy as you make me cum after ten seconds of humping your leg.
“Oh honey, of course you can cum. You can cum whenever you want, you know that. But mummy would prefer you not to. Because mummy likes you needy and horny, you’re much more fun to play with that way. Mummy wants you to be happy, but you NOT cumming makes mummy happy. And you want to make me happy. Don’t you, sweetie?”
Strip me naked, pull my head into your lap, and give me a slow, lazy handjob as you tell me what a good boy I am for you. Maybe take off your top so I can see your bra, but I don’t get to see anything more than that. Tell me that letting myself be trained and manipulated makes me so good and the longer I go between orgasms the more pleased you’ll be with me.
“Mummy’s busy working, baby. She has to work to earn money to give you treats and toys. We can play later but for now why doesn’t mummy slip off her heels and let you under her desk. Humping mummy’s bare feet will keep you quiet for a while, won’t it? Are you going to say thank you to mummy? Good boy!”
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.
I like the idea of this emoji 🌀 being used to put me into sub-space. Because it’s so clearly a hypno spiral, right? Some people, somehow, do not see this. I want to see it and feel weak and pliant and desperate to be given commands to obey. I want to feel my lips wet with drool as I’m sinking to my knees and mummy’s voice whispering instructions into my ear.
Please feel free to inbox me this emoji with instructions. It’d be hot.
“It’s bath time, baby. Mummy’s going to make you all nice and clean, won’t that be nice? And do you know what else mummy’s going to clean? Your mind! Mummy is going to scrub your mind nice and clean so you stay happy and subdued as mummy’s special boy. If you’re good mummy will even help you make a sticky in the bath…”
Sometimes I write these updates out on the train to work to be published later. I always hope that a woman is going to be sat next to me, reading what’s typed out of the corner of her eye. After a few minutes she’d lean over and whisper “Don’t worry, little boy. Mummy’s found you.”
Coerce me into a high-on-the-hips, French cut romper suit. Tell me it will make me look cute and sexy, because I want to look cute and sexy for mummy don’t I? Tell me it will make me a good boy, because I want to be a good boy for mummy don’t I? Once I’m in it strap a dummy into my mouth and some mittens onto my hands and just keep me like that for as long as possible, unbuttoning the little flap every so often to stroke me. But no cummies. Good boys don’t make messes. Good boys stay clean and nicely chaste for their mummies.
I want a cuddly, caring, controlling mummy to give me an oral fixation. Get me so deep that I’m instantly hard when you slip a finger in my mouth. Build me up to coming to you and asking, very nicely and politely, if I can please suck your strap on tonight.
I want to be kept in chastity and gaslit. Give me a release date to look forward to then when it arrives deny having told me, tell me I must have dreamt it or that I’m being naughty and making up stories. Break my mind.
“Mummy’s boobies just turn your mind to mush, don’t they baby? That’s okay. Mummy will think for you.”
Tell me I’m pretty as your dildo slides into my mouth and you smile indulgently down and me.
“Time for your monthly peeny check, baby. Let’s get you measured. Okay, you’re down to two inches now, but that’s still so big and intimidating. Ladies will be scared of it. Don’t worry, mummy will help you shrink it more so it’s a size ladies will like. Okay, let’s get you on all-fours for a milking then locked back up in a smaller cage. Isn’t mummy kind to you? Don’t forget to say thank you.”
The idea of being made to get a tramp stamp, and it being referred to as a tramp stamp, so that a mummy can make fun of me and call me a slut and tell me no woman will ever want me, is very very hot.
I wish I had a mummy who was keeping me locked up “just for the weekend.”
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.
I wish I had a mummy who was going out on a date night tonight and leaving me at home tied up and listening to brainwashing tracks so I love and respect and need her more.
I want a mummy who’ll get me drooling and staring at her boobies, my hungry little mouth open and ready to suckle. As I lay down and my head is pulled into her lap I babble with excitement only for mummy to pull out a bottle and tell me I’m not ready for her boobies yet ❤️
I want to hump mummy’s leg and beg to cum. Make me desperate and needy and stupid. Tell me I can cum whenever I like but a good boy wouldn’t. Then get me so excited that I can’t stop myself and I make a naughty mess on your legs. Tell me how bad I’ve been and that maybe I’ll be locked in chastity as I lick up my mess.
This morning on the train to work a woman got on and sat down next to me. She was much shorter than me with jet black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She was wearing a black suit, black tights and flats. I immediately wanted her to slip a chloroform soaked rag over my mouth, looking dispassionately into my eyes as I slip into unconsciousness. Then I’d wake up later tied up on the floor of her bedroom wearing nothing but a nappy and a (thick) mouth gag.
Then the brainwashing would begin. “You like it here.” “You’ve always lived here.” “You never want to leave here.” “Being here with mummy is all you’ll ever want.”