Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

The only thing that is more attractive than seeing you stuck helpless in such an exposing position is your humiliating and pathetic best efforts to try to get out.

Watching your frustration and embarrassment as you continue to run out of ideas on what loophole you can find to escape, which are pointless at best, only helps me confirm one thing.

There is not a single thing in this world that can stop me from torturing you with electric toothbrushes, from your tail bone to your pubic bone, for as long as I deem fit.

The only thing you have are your words that you can manage to get out in between your involuntary spurts, screams, and hysterical laughter. I could gag you if I wanted to take away your only hope left for mercy, but this time I prefer to hear your cries of intolerance to the excruciating sensitivity you didn’t even realize you had in that area.

Either way, your last words will fall on deaf, merciless ears. Now suffer for me 🖤

Instead she's going to keep dating jerks with huge cocks who will cheat on her and treat her terribly. And I don't blame her one bit. Size matters more than anything else.

Izzy Green

POV: You are friendzoned by your crush, reduced to be her minion. Good enough to run her errands, shop groceries, clean her flat or holding her towel. But never enough to date her, be involved with her romantically.

She uses the word bitch, or more recently 'cuck bitch' - I hate those words. It ridicules my efforts towards making her life more perfect. But she insisted on it even when I tried to protest. Nowadays a nametag reading 'cuck bitch' is dangling on top of my chastity cage, to "make sure you understand your place".

That stupid chastity cage. She sweet-talked me into it, saying it would strengthen our bond. All it did was enabling her to become more mean and bossy with me. I dont even know how to open this damn thing, there is no lock and its so sturdy. She said it works with an app but I never seen her using it. I started losing my mind after about a month, but now after it has been nearly 4, I can't think straight anymore.

Yesterday I paid her boyfriends rent. They had me on my knees and mocked me while I hit the send button. I didn't care, Miss promised me to "really really super duper thinking about unlocking me" if I pay her boyfriend.

All they did was laugh about me that night as I eagerly waited for her to unlock me eventually. But she never did and just send me away. She never even mentioned it again. Maybe I should ask her, but I am afraid to annoy her. I mean, I think its okay to ask… I paid hundreds and hundreds of $ to her boyfriend, I can at least ask if…

"Bitch, water." "Yes Miss, right away Miss. Thank you Miss."

Er ist ein schwarzer Fleck in meiner Vita. Seit einigen Monaten gibt es ihn, keiner meiner Freunde weiß von ihm, er taucht nirgends auf. Er ist ein Komplize für gelegentliche Nächte, wenn mir nach roher Benutzung ist, selten auch einmal nur für Berührungen. Ein Gebrauchswesen, weder jung noch alt. Für ihn bin ich ein Schatten, den er herbeisehnt oder auch ein notwendiges Übel, so schätze ich es ein. Ich mache mir da nichts vor. Ich ficke ihn, obwohl er es nicht besonders mag, anal gefickt zu werden. Und ich wieder liebe es wegen ihm. So ist die Logik. Er bekommt sonst nicht den Kick, objektifiziert und benutzt zu werden. Der Fick ist die Brücke von seinem masochistischen Kopfkino zu diesen Nächten. Manchmal trägt er blaue Flecken und Striemen davon, seine anale Pussy ist fast immer rotglühend, weil mein Plastikschwanz zu gerne in dieses warme Loch hineinstößt. Aber seine Grenzen erreiche ich nie. Es macht etwas mit mir, ihn leiden zu lassen, auch zu wissen, dass jede Aussicht auf Besseres, auf eine Liebesbeziehung mit gegenseitiger Wertschätzung unsere Verbindung zerstören würde. Das Schicksal meint es manchmal so. Er behauptet, das zwischen uns sei etwas Lyrisches, er hadert nicht damit, zumindest nicht solange ich bei ihm.

He is a black spot on my CV. He's been around for a few months, none of my friends know about him, he doesn't show up anywhere. He's an accomplice for occasional nights when I feel like raw use, rarely even just touching. A utilitarian being, neither young nor old. For him, I am a shadow he longs for or a necessary evil, I suppose. I do not delude myself. I fuck him, even though he doesn't particularly like being fucked anally. And I, in turn, love it because of him. That's the logic. He doesn't get the thrill of being objectified and used otherwise. The fuck is the bridge from his masochistic head cinema to these nights. Sometimes he wears bruises and welts from it, his anal pussy is almost always red hot because my plastic cock likes to pound into that warm hole too much. But I never reach his limits. It does something to me to make him suffer, even to know that any prospect of better, of a love affair with mutual appreciation would destroy our bond. Fate sometimes means it. He claims that this between us is something lyrical, he doesn't struggle with it, at least not as long as I'm with him.

Alternative branding/collaring idea: piercing your whumpee’s ear with an ear tag, like the ones cattle uses. Especially if they didn’t have their ears pierced before.

Imagine whumpee’s humiliation having to walk around with an ear tag filled with whumper’s information, or a new name, or maybe just a number because that’s what they are now…

It’s subtler than a collar and less painful than a brand, but just as degrading if you think about it… just imagine whumpee being completely restrained, whumper really close to their head, the helplessness of wanting to thrash but having to hold still because they’re holding something really sharp way too close to their face, the shock of pain and indignation when their earlobe is perforated, the hatred and shame every time they move and feel the tag dangling from their ear.

Besides, it’s so pretty! Imagine your cute little whumpee with a new earring they loathe 🥰