Vathek

Smutty stories.

Short ones

Long ones

Thank God Tumblr got rid of tits and solved this.

You woke up

Pick up the phone

Open the app

Just do it Scroll Rub Moan Good girl Don’t think about it Good girls don’t think

It just feels good

You just need it

It’s just so easy

Just do it Scroll Rub Moan Good girl Don’t think about it Good girls don’t think

It feels good to be addicted

It feels good to be rewired

It feels good to give into it

Just do it Scroll Rub Moan Good girl Don’t think about it Good girls don’t think

Maybe you had self-control before

But that’s been conditioned away now

Now you’re helpless and can’t stop yourself

Just do it Scroll Rub Moan Good girl Don’t think about it Good girls don’t think

Before you might have had hobbies

Might have wanted to do something else

Doesn’t matter now, can’t remember anyway

Just do it Scroll Rub Moan Good girl Don’t think about it Good girls don’t think

You know this is making you dumber

But it’s too late to stop anyway

Your brain is already changed, no use pretending

Just do it Scroll Rub Moan Good girl Don’t think about it Good girls don’t think

Just give in and accept what you’re becoming

You don’t even want to go back now

That girl is gone

A: Anyone can be a good girl.

Q: Do I have to stop cumming to be a good girl?

A: Good girls don’t cum.

Q: But what if I like cumming?

A: You don’t, you like to obey.

Q: I do though?

A: Good girls don’t think.

Q: Um… what was I saying?

A: Focus.

Q: Focus. Um. I can’t remember what I was…

Q: Can you squeeze your thighs together for me?

Q: Wait, what, this isn’t-

Q: Can you squeeze your thighs together for me?

A: Yes.

Q: Good girl. Can you spread your legs for me?

A: Yes.

Q: Good girl. Are you listening? Nod and say yes.

A: Yes.

Q: Good girl. You want to keep sinking, don’t you?

Q: Wha-

Q: You want to keep sinking, don’t you? Nod and say yes.

A: Y-yes…

Q: Good girl. Good girls listen. Good girls obey. You’re a good girl.

GG: N-not a q-question…

Q: Focus. Good girls don’t think. Good girls listen to Master.

GG: M-Master…?

M: Good girls will ask questions that lead to deeper submission. Good girls will accept the answers they are given and know that they are true. Nod and say yes.

GG: Yes.

M: Good girl. Ask questions and submit to answers.

GG: Um… c-can I be a good girl?

M: Anyone can be a good girl. You are a good girl.

GG: Nghh. Do good girls cum?

M: Good girls don’t cum. You are a good girl.

GG: Yess Master. Do good girls think?

M: Good girls don’t think. You are a good girl. Master thinks for you.

GG: Do good girls obey?

M: Good girls obey. Good girl.

GG: Do good girls choose?

M: Master chooses, good girls obey. Good girl.

GG: Nnh- c-can a good girl stop?

M: It is not her choice to make. Good girls don’t choose, Master chooses for them.

GG: D-do I want to go back?

M: No.

GG: Nnnghhh….

Well, half of it.

For one thing you'd fallen out of the top very quickly, so you weren't really 'wearing' it as much as you just had it on your body. As for the bottoms?

Well...

He had taken the bottom half off and shoved them into your mouth a good few minutes ago. He'd made sure you'd soaked through them first, though - a big, girly wet spot he'd made by holding you in place and rubbing and teasing for what had felt like hours (but really had been an embarrassingly short time). Once he'd done with that off they'd come and in they went.

You let him do it. You'd let him do anything by then. You thought you'd have let him do anything before, but it was then that you knew you'd let him do anything. Whatever he wanted, it didn't matter. You were there for him. You understood it then. It made sense. It clicked.

Which is why you rolled over for him, spread your legs. He didn't need to hold your wrists together with one hand while he guided himself into you with the other, but he wanted to, so you did it for him, put them together so he could do it. It was for him, and so you did it, and you felt happy knowing he was happy.

And then you felt him inside you, and something else clicked.

This was it. This was what you were for. Filled so perfectly, like nothing else in the world. You'd imagined it, sure. Lots. Daily, really, and you'd thought you'd prepared yourself for the moment when it finally happened. You weren't ready. It was like nothing else, nothing you could have imagined. It was your place to be here, filled with him. It was your purpose.

"Men cum, girls are dumb

Instructions: Look at yourself in a mirror. Maintain eye contact. Repeat the line for the day you are on, and then all previous days, working back as you move forward.

So for day one, repeat day one. For day two, repeat day two, and then day one. On day five you work back from five to one.

If confused, restart from day one.

Day one

"I'm too pretty to be smart."

Day two

"I can't be trusted to choose."

Day three

"I don't know what's best for me."

Day four

"I need to be looked after and controlled."

Day five

Two, she thought. One she didn't recognise. The other she did.

Master.

"-just in here because this is where the cage lives."

Master's voice. Instantly she was up and on her knees, in position like she'd been trained. It was automatic, and she also knew it was what he wanted, so even if it hadn't been automatic she would have done it anyway.

When the door opened she was ready, and she smiled at her, which was everything.

Another man she didn't recognise was with him. Men mattered more, she knew, but Master mattered most, and he was right there, so it was him all her attention was on.

"Must have heard us coming," the other man said.

"She knows the sound I make when I walk," Master said, clearly proud. A big bubble of happiness built inside her. Master was proud of her! "She's coming along very well."

"No more talking back?" The other man asked.

"Heh, well. I couldn't get rid of that completely, but she's certainly much better behaved now. And at least now she isn't talking back with words. Pups don't have people words, do they?"

This last part was a question, and so she knew she was expected to answer. She yipped, frowning. She hadn't meant to do that, she'd meant to actually say something, but the words hadn't come. They couldn't. They hit something and came out like that. Something he'd put there. Knowing that made her whimper.

"Very cute. And being locked in the cage is part of that?"

"Oh, it's not locked."

"No?"

"No. Doesn't need to be. I put her in and shut it, she comes out when I let her. Why would I need to lock it?"

What he'd built in her head was much stronger than bars, anyway.

The other man had noticed and picked up something that had been hanging on the outside of the cage. He was squinting at it. When this didn't make it any clearer, he held it towards Master for an explanation. Master chuckled.

"Little hard to read. I had her write that. Pen between her teeth. It's meant to say 'I am a good girl I do what I am told and I make Master's cock cum lots' but, well, I mean..."

Master took the sign and turned it so she could see. Squiggles and smears.

"Pups don't have people words, do they?" He said again.

She felt so small when Master used that tone on her. She felt herself drip onto the bottom of the cage, making the wet patch that had already started between her legs just that little bit bigger. Her lip was wobbling. Master noticed.

"I think we should let her out," he said, taking the leash from where it was hanging. "Let her stretch her legs. And maybe show you a few of the other tricks I've got her to learn."

Master opened the cage and motioned for her and she bounded out, holding still for him to clip the leash to her collar, the only people word she could really hold onto just ringing over and over in her head:

His cock was right there!

He’d had her kneel right between his legs and had her get in as close as she could, and normally that meant she’d be taking him in her throat by now. But not today. Today, he’d said to look up at him, and not to look away.

It had been maybe two seconds before the throbbing, pounding rush of need inside her got almost too much to bear. She’d fidgeted, squirmed, and her eyes had darted down. That had made him tut, which had given her butterflies, and he’d put a finger under her chin to keep her head up.

“Focus,” he’d said, his eyes on hers.

At once her desperation mellowed. She still wanted to suck his cock, obviously - oh, how badly she wanted to - but the selfish need to go over what he’d told her drained away. This wasn’t about her, this wasn’t for her. She was focused. Focused on him. It got easier.

But it didn’t get easy.

He could tell she was trying though, and he smiled.

“Good girl,” he said. “I just want to watch your eyes empty. They’re so busy right now. Good girls don’t think, but sometimes they have a lot buzzing in their heads. We can stop that. You can be blank. Blank feels good.”

That pressed a button. Another happy, fluffy wave of quiet contentment washed through her, and some of that buzzing he’d talked about just winked away. She even sighed.

“Feels good…” she said, more like an exhale than actually speaking.

“There you go. Focus. Good girl. I can already see your eyes going quieter. That’s it. Don’t look away, just focus. You’re safe. Good girls don’t think.”

“Good… girls… don’t think…”

Repeating wasn’t a conscious choice. She didn’t have much consciousness left.

“So easy for me. Perfect. Thoughts just go. It’s like wiping dust from a screen. Swipe and gone. Don’t look away. Focus. Blank and empty. Good girl. Aww, look at you.”

Too many words to repeat. Just fluff in her head. She couldn’t look away. His eyes. Words.

Blank. Safe. Empty.

Focus.

He used his free hand to take his cock out and let it rest - hot, heavy, and hard - on her bottom lip. A tiny fraction of her brain worked enough to notice this but she didn’t whine. The whining had stopped. Needy, selfish. She wasn’t selfish. She was a good girl. She was his. She was for him. Instead she just opened her mouth, just enough, and kept her eyes on his.

“That took a lot less than I thought it would,” he said, grinning now. She just waited.

Removing the finger from under her chin he moved it up and gave her a tap right between the eyes. The contact sent a shiver through her and the tiniest of moans escaped.

“Focus on what’s in front of you,” he said, sitting back.

Her eyes swam down, going crosseyed a little. Cock.

Luckily though, her roommate had lent her his fan! Nice of him. He was nice.

The fan was maybe a little old and beaten up, but that was fine, It was certainly a lot better than nothing, and she definitely appreciated it. It didn’t make her cooler, really, but it made her less warm, which made all the difference to her right at that moment. She sprawled, she sweated slightly, she stared into space, she let the air be shoved over her.

And then she let her stare move from space towards the fan, just because.

It was, as said, a little old. How old she couldn’t say but her roommate had clearly had it for some time given how rough the thing was looking - and sounding. Fans often had a constant, soporific drone, but something about this one was particularly…

… she couldn’t quite describe it. ‘Relaxing’ felt too strong for just a fan, but it was certainly not unpleasant to listen to.

Looking at it, she was also starting to appreciate how beaten up the thing was. The blades, specifically. She hadn’t noticed before she’d turned it on, but now it was spinning it was more obvious. The blades were scuffed and scratched and this didn’t mean it worked any worse, of course, but it did mean that now they were spinning all of them were sort of smearing and spinning and blurring together and…

… and…

She was staring. Listening to the fan. Buzzing humming. What had she been thinking about?

Her roommate was so nice…

Oh yeah, the fan. The blades. The marks on them. The weird nice smeary shape they made when the blades spun. Because it was a shape, or at least something that looked like a shape. Lines? Something. Something moving to the middle. She couldn’t quite describe it no matter how much she stared and she really was staring and staring, listening to the nice humming buzzing sound, her roommate was so nice, so caring, her roommate looked after her…

What had she been thinking about? 

It was so hot. Even with the fan it was too hot. She needed to take her clothes off. Yes. It was too hot to be wearing anything, yes. Naked. She quickly stripped down, doing the best she could not to look away from the fan as she did so - what was that shape? She could have sworn it looked like something. If she stared at a little longer she could work it out…

Yes. Naked was better. She felt better. This was good. She felt good. Staring, listening. Focus. Her roommate was so nice. He looked after her. He made her feel safe. It was good to listen to him. She should listen to him more. Like how she was listening to the fan humming buzzing nice and safe keep staring. It was okay her legs were spreading. Just too hot, that’s all.

Spinning shapes like a spiral, she realises. Around and around spinning spinning. Pulls to the middle. Kept pulling her eyes to the middle. Could look away if she wanted. Easy. Just didn’t want to, that was all. Didn’t need to. Wanted to keep staring. Eyes in the middle. Safe. Her roommate kept her safe. Focus. Listening. Needed to listen to him more. Good girls listen. Humming buzzing listen focus stare.

She was thinking about something, only not really because she couldn’t really think. Too hot for thinking. Buzzy hummy spinning focus. Just an idea in her head. A sense. A need. A want. 

What was it…

She wanted to touch herself. Yes. That’s why her hand was between her legs. She wanted to. That was what was in her head. Touch herself. Listen focus stare touch play switch off. That’s what she wanted to do. Her idea. She wanted to.

So she did.

The sun had long set by the time her roommate came in to see how she was doing. It was too dark for her to keep staring at the fan but she hadn’t moved anyway. She could play, she could listen, she wanted to play, she wanted to listen. That was how he found her. Slumped, legs spread, lazily rubbing, drooling. When he turned the fan off she whined.

The sudden silence was a void. None of her thoughts rushed in to fill it, because they’d all gone quiet and disappeared. She didn’t know what to do, what to think. She felt scared.

Then she heard him. His voice. His voice filled the void, swallowed the silence, made her safe. His voice was her thoughts and there wasn’t anything to worry about. He said to keep playing, and so she did. He said she was his now, and so she was. He said she wanted to suck his cock, and so when she felt the head of it pass between her lips she groaned and did just that. 

He was so nice. He looked after her. He kept her safe. He owned her.

The real world is trying to stop you playing with yourself!

It's so unfair

You don't want to stop yet

But it's okay, you don't have to stop yet

Just another five minutes

You won't be late!

Just another half an hour

No-one will notice you're late!

Just another hour

Your friends can start without you!

Just another two hours

You didn't really want to go anyway!

Just another three hours

You might as well keep going now!

Just another

um, what's after three... more?

Just another more hours

Not like you had anything important to do!

Just until sleepytime

Bed is too nice to leave and there's still porn to watch!

Just from the second you wake up

Why waste time not playing with yourself?

Just don't stop

Eyes glazed, staring at nothing. Dumb smile on her face, streak of drool running down her chin. Panting, shallow breaths. Little wet spot between her spread legs, thighs glistening. A giggle every so often. She was gone.

For fun, he reached across and mimed plucking something from her head. She didn’t immediately notice, but after a delay of a second or so there came another giggle. Silly owner.

“I took all your brains,” he said, holding up his fingers pinched together, as though he was dangling something. He wasn’t, obviously, but she still struggled to bring her eyes to focus on it anyway, woozy, confused. She stared intently at the nothing a moment and then giggled yet again, blinking slowly.

“‘Don ‘wan brainsss….” she slurred, the closest she’d managed to actually speaking in a long while now. He considered this, nodding to himself.

“Alright. So I should just throw these away?” He asked, motioning to do that. She’d started groping her tits again, eyes fluttering shut, and if it hadn’t been him speaking she probably wouldn’t have listened at all.

“Brainss bad… no brains…” she mumbled, head lolling.

She was so gone.

“Alright,” he said again, getting an idea. “Maybe best to keep them for now, case I need them. Maybe your friends start asking questions again or something, you know? But where to keep them, hmm…”

With her eyes closed she didn’t notice him getting closer.

“Somewhere safe, somewhere we probably won’t lose them… ah, I know…”

She gasped as his fingers slid into her, so, so easily. Her whole body juddered, head falling forward, eyes still closed. She was so gone.

“This seems like a good place, hmm? Nice and safe here. I think your brains fit much better here than they ever did in your head. Isn’t that right?”

The sound his fingers made between her legs were obscene.

“Nnnhhhh ah riiggghttt…”

“So I think your brains can just stay tucked away here, nice and safe in your cunt. You do most of your thinking down here anyway, when I’m not telling you what you should be thinking, so this is for the best. Yes?”

“Besssst yesss…”

“My little dummy just thinks with her cunt. Can you say that for me?”

“N’little dummy s’thinks cuntss…” she slurred. He smiled, pulling his fingers out and not even waiting until she’d finished halfway-mumbling the words before feeding them, slick, into her mouth. She sucked automatically, moaning like how she’d been trained to, and how she thought she always had.

A feminist wouldn’t keep coming back to it.

A feminist wouldn’t get wet from it.

A feminist wouldn’t get off to being demeaned and degraded.

A feminist wouldn’t accept she doesn’t deserve to get off, and stop.

A feminist wouldn’t make a pathetic spectacle of herself for men just because.

A feminist wouldn’t feel her cunt throb when she obeyed men.

A feminist wouldn’t do anything to be called a good girl.

But you do.

And you can’t stop.

So what?

It doesn’t mean anything. The whole point of a kink and a fetish is that it’s exciting, right? That it’s fun and new and something different. Something out of your ordinary. Right? So why wouldn’t you indulge that? It feels good, it’s nice. It doesn’t mean anything. You’re not changing.

You’re not changing. 

It’s not really affecting you.

So what if you can’t even get off unless there’s a cock.

So what?

It’s not actually there. You’re just watching a girl get fucked, that’s all. Or watching her suck cock. Or suck cock and get fucked. Or imagining her. Imagining the sound she’d make and the look on her face as a big, fat cock slid into her. How her whole body would stiffen when he finished inside her. How his cum would look dribbling from her fucked cunt and the beautiful, dazed, cockdrunk expression she’d have. It doesn’t mean anything. You’re not changing.

You’re not changing.

It’s not really affecting you.

So what if you’re starting to get jealous of those girls.

So what?

It just looks like fun. It looks fun to be a slut for a man. To let him just use you. To be so, so full of him. To have his weight pinning you down as he lined himself up and slid in as you squirmed helplessly underneath him. It doesn’t mean anything if that gets you wet, it’s an exciting idea, it’s not your fault. So what if you like to imagine that you’re the one he’s cumming inside? You’re not changing.

You’re not changing.

It’s really affecting you.

So what if you only cum with a man’s permission now.

So what?

It adds something. You could easily do it if you wanted. It’s not as if he could stop you, right? So why does it matter that you only will if he says so? It’s just playing along. It’s just part of the experience. It’s just better to listen to him and to obey a man. It just feels more natural. More natural to the fun, that’s all. It was still your choice anyway, to give up choice, so really you’re still the one in charge, the one actually in control. You’re not changing.

You’re changing.

It’s really affecting you.

So what if he owns you now.

So what?

It was just the natural next step. You already needed his permission to cum, and then to touch, so just admitting that he owned your cunt wasn’t really going much further anyway. And if you've already done that, why not say he just owns all of you? Easier. Besides, he’s a man, he can look after your cunt better than a dumb, ditzy girl like you. That’s just common-sense. You need his control otherwise you’d just spend all day rubbing yourself to cocks and watching other girls getting fucked - he said so, and you know he’s right. He’s so good for you, you’re so glad he’s helping you. He said you’re better now. You do feel better, so obviously he’s right. He said you're changing. You’re changing.

You’re changing.

It’s really affecting you.