90s bby

this is an interaction where a boundary has been broken, a line has been crossed. they tapped out, and the dom didn’t immediately stop, as is agreed upon. it would be perfectly normal for the sub in this scenario to feel violated or like their boundaries had been disrespected. and there’s a few ways they could handle this.

they could block the dom, tell people they were assaulted, burn that bridge. or, they could go to the dom and say “hey. i felt really bad and violated when i tapped out and you didn’t stop” and their dom can go “holy shit i’m so sorry, that makes a lot of sense! i didn’t register it at first and i would never intentionally ignore a tap out. how can i help you feel safer and more comfortable?”

that tumblr dom who hits you up lovebombing you doesn't care about you. he is just horny.

any dom that pushes a GENUINE "I don't want to...." into a "fine..." is a rapist. that is not consent.

any random dom that expects submission from you without giving anything you want or need isn't a dom.

ALMOST EVERY TUMBLR DOM HAS NO EXPERIENCE. DONT LET INEXPERIENCED DOMS ACT LIKE GODS.

if you give a dom an inch, he will take a mile. stand. your. mf. grounds.

IF YOUR DOM WON'T RESPECT YOU, SOMEONE ELSE WILL.

Then I slap you again.

You'd started out so strong, you think. It's hard to remember.

You'd said you weren't like the others, those other girls. The needy, simpering ones who thought with their cunts and went around wet and pliant an docile. The one with the simple brains and simple thoughts. You weren't like that. You knew you weren't like that. You were strong. You'd never be like that. Your mind wouldn't break.

You hadn't considered - or you had forgot - that things don't need to break to change. The stone thrown into the river doesn't break, but it does get worn smooth. Just takes time.

You thought being broken was the only way you'd end up like that, and if you just were careful nothing would happen. You kept watch for something big. You were careful, you told yourself. You didn't pay attention to all the little things. They were only little, after all, and you were strong. They couldn't break you.

They didn't need to.

"I'm still strong," you told yourself as your habits changed.

"I won't be like them," you said as you spent more time playing with yourself with every passing day, any moment you could.

"I think for myself," you thought, as your mind wandered more and more often, drifting back to words you'd read, repeating them over and over in your head.

Words saying how girls were toys made to be played with, how they were meant to serve and obey, dolls to be wiped blank and rewritten as something different whenever and wherever.

Just words. Nothing big. Nothing that could break you.

"I just don't want to cum," you lie to yourself, not even realising that deep down you'd learnt you shouldn't, that it was bad for you.

"I'm only doing what he said because he's smarter than me," you say to yourself as you let another stranger fuck you. How many is that now? You lose count. Numbers are hard sometimes.

"It's okay to grow," you think, as you let a man swap out everything about yourself to make him happy.

You didn't break, it's true.

"-so I'd be ineligible if-"

"Wait, what did you say?"

"What? Which bit?"

"You know which bit. The big word. The smart word. Where did you get that?"

"W-what do you mean? I don't - i-it's just a word, it's not- ah!"

"Wet already. Not surprised. That word really isn't for you. Just heard it somewhere? I can tell you're just trying to sound smart. Cute, but naughty. It's not for you. Try saying it again."

"B-but you're - your hand - ahhh..."

"Say ineligible again."

"In-in-in - ah! - inegg, no, no - inelleble! It's - oh please..."

"What a little dummy. See? Just doesn't fit in your mouth, does it? Maybe try a better word, one more your speed. How about cock. Can you say cock for me?"

"Cock!"

"Look at that, first try. I knew that'd fit. That was much easier, wasn't it?"

"Y-yes sir! Yes! B-but y-your hand, your- ah!"

"Say cumrag."

"C-cumrag!"

"Good girl. These definitely sound more like words for you. Say porndoll."

"Porndoll!"

"Such a good girl. That's you, by the way. You're a porndoll."

"Sir, sir please, you- unh..."

"Oh and I thought you were wet before. Can't be much brains left in there, rate you're leaking. Say dumb cunt for me."

"D-dumb c-cunt. Dumb cunt!"

"That's you too. You're my dumb cunt."

"Yes sir, yes! I'm your dumb cunt! Please!"

"Please what?"

"Please d-don't take your hand away, Sir!"

"That's not really up to you, is it? Lucky for you though I can think of a better way of using you. You can get onto the bed for me, but first you have to promise me something."

"Anything Sir anything anything!"

"No more big words, okay? Those aren't for you. Big, confusing words aren't for dolls and toys, they're for people, so keep them out of your mouth and do your best to keep them out of your head. You see a word you think I wouldn't want you understanding, you turn away, you giggle, and you think of an easy word. You think about cock. Okay?"

"Okay Sir! I will! I will Sir!"

A pleasantly straight-forward brainwashing story.

-

Naked, gagged, strapped in place, deaf and blind to the world thanks to the headset that had been put on her, the girl waited. Whatever she had to say about it came out muffled, and there wasn’t anyone there who might care to listen anyway.

Trapped in silent darkness, she didn’t see the two men walking in some minutes later, one of them with a tablet. Neither of them paid her that much attention. The one with the tablet gave her a glance, but then started swiping.

“Alright, case eight-five-eight-two. Name, Rose Smith. She’s listed as a ‘disruptive influence’ - been causing trouble and getting other girls into bad habits,” he said.

“We can’t be having that,” said the other.

Some more swiping.

“First offence though so it’s only a two hour correctional session.”

Porn, not a person

No! That's wrong! That's disgusting! Girls aren't porn and I am a person! I can think for myself and I'm smart and i-

Porn, not a person

S-stop that! Stop saying that! It's not true! I am a person! Girls are people! This isn't right! I-I'm more than that! I can think-

Porn, not a person

C-can't think... I mean, I can... it's... porn... I'm... n-no! I'm-

Porn, not a person

I'm not... please... I'm not... not a... person...

Porn, not a person

I'm... porn... not a... person...

Porn, not a person

i’m porn not a person

His pleasure is more important than my comfort

A Male is a God to be worshipped

I’m 3 holes and 2 fat tits

My body makes me inferior to Males it’s not a choice

I should only stay edging to keep my holes warm and welcome for a Cock

I seek Male’s orgasm not my pleasure I’m not a selfish cunt

“Tell me why. Tell me why I should have this. Convince yourself for me.”

(True story) - His voice was low and gentle. His large hands wrapped around my hips and held me steady on top of him as he fucked me.

“I can’t. I...uhn...mmh...don’t like it.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. I wouldn’t lie to him. I never do.

“Let’s start there, then. Talk to me.” His pace was methodical, deliberate and unhurried. He watched my face patiently and waited for me to find my words while he casually caressed my tits in front of him. 

“Well, it’s my spending money. I've always been able to...unnf...ah...use it whenever I want because I earned it at...mmm...my job. I worked hard for it.” I explained. 

“You did work for it very hard, sweetie. But you didn’t earn it for yourself, did you? You earned it for your family - for me.” His cock continued to pump in and out me. 

“But…! Uhnf...fff…fu-…my salary is higher than yours! I went to school. I have a degree for this job. Ah-ah...mmh...it’s a good career, my colleagues respect-"  

He cut me off. “Does any of that change a thing? Be honest. Does it matter at all if you’re educated or people at work think you’re respectable? I still tell you what to wear, what to do, what to say. So does it matter? Tell me.” 

“No...ah! mmh...no, it doesn’t change anything I suppose. But both names are on the account. I could withdraw my spending money on my own. Uhnf...the bank...ugh…would let me.” The sound of my sloppy cunt - my body carelessly betraying me - offended my ears.

“Yes, your name is on the account," he conceded thoughtfully. "You have access to your body too. It’s attached to you, isn’t it? Does that mean it’s yours? Can you make it orgasm?”

“No.”

“Can you change it without permission?”

“Fffu-...no.”

“Do you decide when and how I use it?” 

“No—ugh...uhn…” 

“So does it belong to you?” 

“No, it doesn’t belong to me,” my voice wobbled. 

“Then why would your bank account be any different than your physical body? I own you and that means I own every little thing that you do. Everything that’s yours is actually mine.” 

“But…I hate it.”

I could feel him pick up his pace.  He moaned out the next words: “Tell me why.”

I stifled the start of tears. “I hate it because it’s oppressive and it’s wrong.” 

He groaned and I felt his cock stiffen as he pumped into me harder and faster. “Why is it wrong?” he goaded me. My cunt was a mess.

“Ah-ah-ah!...Because that money is mine!” A small sob. “It’s my spending money. And I earned it, it’s from my career, and it’s mine. And I feel pride.” 

“Oh. It’s okay, sweetie,” his tone was compassionate. He smiled at me gently and settled me down onto him for a moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll break it. Just give it a little time. You’ll feel better.” 

Another little sob. I rubbed my eyes to stop tears and tried to catch my breath. I could feel every thick inch of him inside me as I straddled him. I looked into his calm and measured expression, seeking mercy there. I began again with my plea: “But that money is mine…” 

He wrapped his fingers tightly around my arm, pulled me in close to him, our foreheads nearly touching. He began to pound into me, his eyes locked with mine. I felt my thoughts scatter across the surface of my mind and I scrambled to pick them up again. 

His voice was suddenly dark. “Nothing is yours. Not your body or your womb, not your mind or your vote. And neither is your money. You give it all to me. Do you understand me?” 

I began to cry into his neck, little sobs mixing with pathetic moans. “But I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it...” 

“I know, sweetie, I know. But I want it.” He pressed on that weak spot of my mental armor, waiting for the inevitable break. 

“You want it," I repeated, my voice was small.

“Yes, I want it. That’s enough of a reason. And you want to give it to me, don’t you? Nothing makes you happier than giving yourself to me, isn't that right?”

I moaned into him in assent. 

“You know I get what I want. So just relax. Just go with it. Enjoy saying yes. Say yes to me - that you’ll give it to me.” 

“I’ll give it to you.” Tears were in my eyes and smearing on his skin. 

I could feel him throbbing in anticipation of my mental undoing. He slowed his pace again, drawing out his finish. “That’s a good girl. I’ll take care of it. And you can be a good whore for me to earn my money. I'll tell you to send me photos and if I like them, you’ll hear ping! and a few dollars will come through Apple Pay for you for being a good girl. If you want to buy something, you ask me first. I might say no, but I bet there’s a way you could earn it.” He smiled, lazily fucking me, toying with what was left of my ego. I could sense the power high he was riding and it made me drip. Even so, I felt my pride scrape itself off the pavement for a last ditch effort. 

“Wait...you’d say no? Like with orgasm? So I would want to buy something with my money and you’d stop me? But, I-"

He distracted me from my question momentarily by pulling me forward over him and enveloping my nipple in his mouth, his lips teasing the sensitive skin. He picked up speed.

Again, my thoughts were tossed carelessly about and I rushed to compose myself. Before I made much progress, he placed his fingers on my lips; without thinking, I parted them to welcome him in. He gently pressed on my tongue as he pushed his fingers toward the back of my throat. I instinctively loosened the tension in my jaw and sucked on them, lapping with my tongue and coating them with saliva. He murmured his praise. Then his fingers were gone. 

His thick, drool-coated forefinger pushed into my asshole without warning. An inhuman sound escaped my throat. His finger and his cock on rubbed against each other inside me as he fucked me with both. 

I was crushed against him under his other arm. His voice darkened. “You think you’re even capable of owning money?” he said sharply, growling the words in my ear. "You don’t even own your holes, you whore. I can do whatever I want to you and you couldn’t stop me if you tried. Everything you have is mine because you are mine and that includes your money. I decide how you earn it back and how much, and you will thank me for it.”

I nodded dumbly, glassy-eyed, mumbling yes on repeat. A string of drool from my slackened mouth pooled on his pillowcase. The fullness in both holes overwhelmed me. He praised me for my obedient acquiescence and rocked into me to finally empty his balls into my cunt. 

His cock pulsed as his orgasm faded and he groped my tits and hips at his satisfied leisure. I leaned over him with half-lidded eyes, noticing the drool stain on his pillow. I vaguely pondered if I’d be punished for making a mess, but nothing else in particular came to my mind. He smiled with what appeared to be pride, and I smiled back.