not normalbf

Most people take a gag as permission to be loud. Either because they take it as a challenge "try to silence me, I'll show you" or because they think it's going to muffle noise so they're free to be noisy. They'll be unintelligible of course but they will make all types of pretty noises.

Expectation is an incredibly powerful tool you can make use of. People like patterns, people like predictability, they like knowing what's going to happen. So make rules and follow them, make patterns and keep to them, be predictable and your sub will feel safe and comfortable with you, they will trust you more if they know what you're going to do and how you're going to react.

Of course they have to abuse my poor unused boycunt now, how could they not when I'm so desperate for their attention?

Want them to use me and beat me and manipulate my poor little brain into loving them.

Want to be left in the mean basement while they work just to cry hugging their legs when they're back cuz I thought they left me to rot again.

Want to be threatened to be locked in the basement again if I disobey them when they're fucking my throat and I struggle to breathe.

He starts pushing more little stuff onto you buying you onesies and never letting you out of age regression just whispering how much of a good puppy you are for your dad

Friday evening though he mentioned we should make sure it’s going to be alright, so i should have a test-sitting in the chair.

Fully immobilized strapped tightly inside, the fuck machine under the seat placed appropriately, tens connections on the tiny chastity cage and my balls, the large silicone gag and blindfold were buckled on before he closed and locked every parton top and front of the box.

He gave it a test run then, fuck machine turned on, slow but deep strokes by the almost 2 inch wide and 8 inch long dildo, tingling on dick and balls stimulating, though the chaisty not allowing any painless growth… i started moaning and grunting, part pleasure and part discomfort in a mix.

He watched for probably ten minutes, i struggled, tested the strict and unforgiving straps inside holding me, attempting to get any influence to the torment in butt and on dick and balls, futile attempts of course.

Then he said: ‘Before i place the matching head box on top of iot, i’ll be adding some headphones with nice white noise, i think it would be a shame to get you out of it now that you’re settled so nicely in that box, i think it’s going to be early enough to let you out again after the party, so some time Sunday after brunch maybe, until then, just enjoy…’

my grunts in protest weren’t much different from the grunts of pleasure and torment before, so unlikely he realized my protesting to it so the headphones went on and i felt that head box, it was in place as well, but in my total isolation now it made no difference, just for the bystander it would hide a person suffering inside, nothign visible from that anymore.

i tried protesting harder, but for one, he did not at all react, if he een was close enough to hear, but also the tens and the fuck machine changed randomly their intensity, a lot of times i was too busy coping with what they delivered also.

I’d just have to suffer through it now… Sunday … a long time, i’d be sore like hell then, not that i can do anything about it in the meantime.

One thing though he did not tell me. The white noise would be interrupted regular with extreme hard music and noises ensuring i am not sleeping, also throughout the entire time subliminal programming was embedded into the white noise… by Sunday, the sleep deprivation and ongpioing programming had it’s impact to some extent already.

You don’t think too hard about it, gulping down the whippit and letting it rest in your lungs for a moment, before breathing out and letting it go. Your ears start to ring, and your extremities go numb. Without even realizing, you’ve gone cross eyed. You collapse into the mattress and bite down on the bedding, stretching your limbs out to get more of that fuzzy tingly feeling. All you can feel for certain is your central nervous system.

Before it even wears off, you hear the flick of a lighter, and big sis is holding a joint to your lips. “Hit.”

You put your lips to the joint and inhale, washing it down with a breath of clean air afterwards, and finally releasing it. The smoke trawls up your face and assaults your nose, just another layer to the sensory attack you were experiencing. Your thoughts are hazy and your whole skull feels…heavier? Or maybe lighter, you can’t really tell…You’re so caught up in your high, you don’t even notice as big sis slips a pair of floppy brown puppy ears over your head, delicately threading the headband through your hair.

“Wuh…?” You tilt your head up, accidentally giving her just the angle she wanted. Faster than you can react, a leather collar slips around your neck, complete with a tag in the shape of a dog bone with your address and big sis’ phone number on it. It locks behind you with a click, and your tummy starts to turn. She tricked you again, didn’t she?

“Sorry, baby sis.” She quickly fills another balloon with nitrous and holds it to your lips, and you inhale it again, your desire to get high outweighing your desire to avoid what was coming. She clips a leash to your collar and pulls it taut. “You know you never play Puppy with me sober!”

And you’d thought she was just being nice by offering you some of her drugs…Your body goes numb again as she gets up and tugs your leash, forcing you to clumsily crawl off your bed and follow her on all fours, too disoriented from your last whippit to try and stand. She pulls you to her room, taking another hit of her joint and blowing the smoke down into your face, earning a scowl from you. “Awwww, don’t be grumpy, pup! You want another hit?” Your ears perk up, and you nod rapidly. “Yeah? You do? Sit, puppy!”

Without thinking, you kneel with your hands between your legs, flashing her your big wet puppydog eyes. “Good girl!! Oh you’re such a good puppy aren’t you!!” She ruffles your hair, turning your cheeks pink. God, she’s so embarrassing! ”Now roll over!”

This one’s easy! You roll onto your back and pull your shirt up, giving big sis the perfect opportunity to lean down and give you some tummy rubs, and if you had a tail it’d be reluctantly wagging at lightspeed right now. “Good girl! Good doggy!! Sweet sweet puppy oh who’s a good girl…oh yes it’s you…”

Your muscles melt and your higher functions slow to a crawl. The dredges of your proud resistance quiet to a dull murmur in the back of your brain, muffled by THC until it’s completely muted. You are a good dog. You always have been! “Now, speak!!”

“Arf!” You bark for your sister, the noise leaving your lips before you even register the command. You wait so so eagerly for your praise, and like always, she delivers! “Very good !!!! yes good girl good puppy good pet !!! yes you are yes it’s true you’re my good puppy!!!! Time for one last trick pup!!!” You tilt your head, and she walks you to her closet, where a fully furnished kennel is waiting for you, the door already wide open.

You gasp, a bit scared of being locked in such a tight space, but it looks so cozy, dolled up with pink fairy lights and blankets and all your favorite plushies…”Kennel up, pup!” The command finally comes, and with a whine, you shoot your big sis a worried glance. She only smiles, holding the joint between her fingers, waving it over you ever so slightly, reminding you of the treat you’ll get if you obey…

With a sad little puppy whimper, you crawl in, finding one of her old shirts tucked next to your pillow. It smells just like her, and that puts your silly puppy brain at ease. You paw at the bars of your new home for the night, and big sis does as she promised, holding her joint between the bars and letting you snag a good, long hit. You hold it in, roll it over your tongue, and exhale.