“Mummy’s Very Busy Now, Baby. She’s Got To Call Her Friends And Then Do Some Work, So You Have

Recently I’ve been having a lot of thoughts about lying on my back naked looking up lovingly at my boss standing over me as she finger fucks my mouth with one hand and teases my butthole with the other. She’d tell me how well behaved and slutty I am as I moan around her probing fingers and thank her for guiding me and making me her good boy.

“I know you think you want to suck mummy’s boobies and put your little penis in mummys vagina but what you actually want is to ask mummy to put on her strap-on and throat fuck you. Be a good boy and ask mummy now.”

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.

This morning I was looking at upskirt panties pics in bed (it was a really fun time). I’d forgotten this when I sat down on the tube to work. When I pulled out my phone and unlocked it it was still on a close up shot of a woman bending over. I’m not sure the woman next to me saw but I kind of hope she did. I spent several minutes daydreaming about her publicly shaming me for my filthy perversions.

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.

Yesterday I acted on this and text the person in question. I apologised for my behaviour and then immediately felt dumb and subby. She replied pretty quickly and we had a nice chat by text.

Now I’m lying at home all hot and horny and thinking about going to her flat and being gently, tenderly told to strip on arrival. My grown up clothes would be locked away out of my reach and my phone would be kept by her, ready to be looked through at her leisure during my stay. I’d be completely trapped and powerless and totally at her mercy and I’d love it.

So several months ago I went on a date. She was nice and she was demanding and she had big boobs and I could tell she’d have been softly nurturing and gently demanding in a relationship. She was even a nanny!

For reasons I won’t go into she wound up making comments I felt were a little too personal for someone I’d only met once and we haven’t spoken since. There was no big argument or anything, and she actually messaged me a week or so after but I (I think maybe foolishly) ignored her.

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking about her more and more and I kind of want to send her a really simpy, subby message telling her about how I want to be her good, obedient boy (she already had a sense of my nature before we even met). There’s just something so hot about the idea of apologising even though I don’t think I was in the wrong and asking her to allow me to make it up to her with chastity time and foot worship and… and just letting her run my life, basically.

Just typing this out has made me really keen to message her. If anyones wants to give me their thoughts in an inbox it would be appreciated.

Give me a brainwashing audio to listen to and some lacey pink knickers to wear and have me kiss and worship and love your feet as you call up my crush and tell her about all my kinks.

“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!”

Really like the idea of a woman telling me that being a prejac is a pro-feminist statement. Just twisting my mind around so that I think the greatest thing in the world is getting onto my knees and orgasming in thirty seconds to show that I’m a feminist.

I really really really want a girlfriend to lock me up and cuck me, tease me with promises of being released that never materialise.