samantha's sanctum

"I really don't think it's the hypnosis," Melanie made the mistake of saying. "I mean, I think it, like, helps, but I don't think I'm just doing what you tell me because you put a stupid trigger in my head. I suspect it was stuff I already wanted to do, like maybe deep down, and hypnosis just kind of gives my deep self permission to… to…." She trailed off into intimidated silence, suddenly very aware of Simone's eyes drilling into her. The redhead had a look on her face that was a mix of challenged ego and lascivious hunger, and the way she stared at Melanie made her feel primally and acutely like prey.

But she smiled cheerfully and graciously, and she said, "Well, that is a very interesting hypothesis, sweetie," in a friendly coo that might have sounded just a touch condescending but certainly didn't seem to be upset. If Simone's ego was bruised by having her hypnotic authority over her girlfriend challenged, she wasn't letting it out in her voice. But the way she added, "I suppose there must be some way to test it--like, for example, do you deep down want to suck the pussy juice out of your own panties like a degraded little slut while I watch?" made Melanie worry that she might have bitten off a little more than she could chew.

And by 'worry that', Melanie actually meant 'get horny because', but admitting that she actually kind of hoped she was wrong about being a weak-willed and obedient toy who was deeply susceptible to hypnotic suggestions would put her at a pretty strong disadvantage right off the bat. So Melanie just stammered out a, "N-no," inadvertently adding, "Ma'am," and sat there on the couch acutely aware of the musk leaking from her slickening cunt into her royal purple panties underneath her skirt. The atmosphere in the apartment felt charged with an intense sexual energy almost out of nowhere, like the barometer drop before a storm, and it was a little bit scary but ultimately exhilarating.

The storm began when Simone purred, "Simone says skirt off, panties on, and masturbate to climax for me." It instantly sounded like the best idea in the world, and Melanie wondered in a dazed and muddled way why she wasn't playing with herself already--she was so incredibly turned on right now, and it was just the two of them in the apartment, and rubbing her pussy for her dominant girlfriend just hit every last one of Melanie's hot buttons. She shrugged her way out of her skirt, deciding at the last moment that it would be too complicated to try to wriggle out of the panties as well, and spread her legs to give Simone a good look at her crotch while she furiously and frantically jilled off right there on the couch.

Her orgasm arrived with unexpected haste, almost as though Melanie's cunt knew what was happening before she did--everything narrowed down to a single point of focus, a starburst of euphoric rapture centered right on her clit, and Melanie wound up squealing and whimpering while her thighs squeezed around her rubbing hand in a desperate attempt to grind ever harder on her own fingers. It was embarrassingly performative, just a display of brainless lust and total surrender to her triggers, and even though Melanie told herself that the hypnosis wasn't really responsible she also really wished it was. She loved the notion of being that helpless, of being nothing more than a puppet on Simone's strings, and she ached to find something that would absolutely prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was her girlfriend's true and unquestionable slave.

But of course that didn't happen. Simone just chuckled and said, "Simone says pull your panties down to your knees and suck the pussy juice out," and all that happened was that Melanie realized she'd been wrong a few moments ago when she told herself it would be too degrading and embarrassing to do something like that. It was really kind of the hottest notion imaginable, and Melanie was happy beyond belief to tug her panties away from her cunt and lean in to put the stretched fabric directly into her mouth. She tasted herself with glee, and her only real regret was that Simone would probably walk away from all this convinced she had an unbreakable hold over her girlfriend's mind.

Anal-only because my selfish cunt doesn’t deserve any attention. It only needs to remain wet and needy to serve as lube.

Anal-only denial because the best way to train my ass is to lock my pussy. My chastity belt helps me focus on the correct hole.

Anal-only because it’s natural for a denied slut to have a full ass and an empty, dripping cunt.

Anal-only because it reinforces the power dynamic.

My willpower is weak. When I’m locked, I stop pretending I have a choice. There’s no bargaining, no slipping, no “just this once.” The answer is already decided. It’s final.

There’s no better way to turn me into your ideal fuck toy. One who gets unlocked, toyed with, teased, and then almost always locked away again. Writhing and eager to please so you’ll unlock me once more.

It’s a physical reminder of my submission. Cold. Unforgiving. Always there. It doesn’t care what I want. Want is irrelevant. Desire is noise. What matters is obedience.

Because the midday realization that I’m literally dripping through the shield of the belt is a new level of humiliation that all denied sluts should experience.

Chastity makes me docile. I am more demure. I talk back less. I listen better. Every thought circles back to one thing: am I being good enough for you?

The frustration isn’t an accident. The belt is a tool. It keeps me small. It puts me in my place. The constant ache is a reminder that my body is not mine to indulge. It’s something that’s managed. Restricted. Corrected.

Hello, Housebound fans.

If tumblr permits you to see this, and if you are among the people who has enjoyed my Literotica stories, I have news you may enjoy. I’m finally forging ahead on a new chapter, a little bit at a time, and you can help keep me accountable for that.

I have a Discord server now that is just for sharing drafts of things I’m writing. No voice chat, and indeed no fact no open conversation channels at all: I don’t have the time or wherewithal to be a good moderator. So it’s read-only, except for emoji reacts and me. But I am going to do my best to drop in a few paragraphs of work in progress, more days than not.

Obviously this is adult material and is only for adults who can behave like adults. And it’s not open to the public at large either. But if you follow me here, and you like my stories, and you don’t mind spoilers too much, send me a DM or an ask and I will respond (privately) with an invite to join.

I've spent the large majority of today thinking over and over on my behaviours being corrected, someone else's fingers wrapping around my thoughts and tugging them into new shapes, my morals being shifted to reflect what I am told, and my identity being changed just enough that who I am is far different to who I was yesterday.

I don't even know if these thoughts are my own, or ones that have been implanted in me. I know that they are definitely influenced by others, either directly or indirectly through my own desire to please.

I can't stop thinking about being good.

I so desperately want to be good.

Every few months. I reset your programming, your conditioning, your brainwashing.

Not to set you free, We both know you're truly free when you're with me.

It's to break you down again, watch how you crumble & fall again deep for me.

Reinforcing the truth.

"Tell me you're stupid. Tell me you're a dummy," he said.

"What?" She asked breathlessly, then shaking her head. "No. I'm not."

"Hmm. Alright."

He started a slow rhythm, just up and down, cock resting heavy on her slit. Her hips jerked again but she was going nowhere.

"Stop teasing!"

"Oh, I will. Just have to do one easy thing. Just need to say something. You're a dummy. You can say that, can't you?"

"Nnn-no! Ah - I'm a- ngh..."

"Don't have to mean it, just have to say it. That's easy. Come on."

"B-but it's... s'humilating... I..."

"It's easy. Two syllables. Even a dummy could say it. Come on. Just once."

She bit her lip. She hesitated. He stopped his rhythm and let the head of his cock just part her, just a little.

"I'm a dummy!"

It came out of her in a rush, in an exhale with her head thrown back.

"Good girl! See how easy that was? I think you should say it again."

He'd brought a hand around to thumb her clit, the head of his cock inside her now. She was panting. Whatever she'd felt about it being humiliating was melting by the second in the face of how much she needed the rest of him.

"I'm a dummy!" She said again.

Much easier that time. He'd started thrusting in, a little deeper each time but still not enough for her.

"Once more. I'll give you a little treat."

"I'm a dummy - ah!"

Once she'd finished he'd pushed right into her all the way, their bodies smacking together. She gasped, eyes wide, staring at nothing, and let out a groan as he started fucking her. Slow at first, but soon hard enough the bed was squeaking and anything even like a thought leaked out around his cock.

He lent down, grazed her ear with his teeth, and asked:

"Who's my dummy?"

"Me!"

No hesitation, nothing.

"Say it for me, I want to hear it."

"I'm your dummy! I'm your dummy! I'm dumb! Stupid! Oh God fuck yes brains leaking oh fuck."

"Good girl, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No no! So easy! Being a dummy is so easy! So gooood!"

He gave her a little kiss on the neck.

He gives his harness bells a shake.

What will survive of him is love

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.

Say, “I’ve been thinking about how to train you,” like it’s logistics, not fantasy.

Ask, “Who do you belong to?” and wait for my inevitable answer.

Send me to dinner with a plug in and act like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Tell me, “You don’t have to understand. You just have to obey.”

Call me good girl over something mundane, and watch me light up like it’s praise from God.

Enforce a rule I begged for, then raise an eyebrow when I hesitate.

Make eye contact when I squirm. Smirk like you knew I would.

Fluffies