I Want A Relationship Where A Dominant Woman Cuts Me Off From All Friends And Family And Gradually Makes

I’m a submissive male. My ideal relationship is with an affectionate, caring, pretty woman with big boobs who sees me as a mixture of partner, pet, and plaything. She’d genuinely love me, have strong nurturing mummy vibes, and love to tease, deny, manipulate and brainwash me. Just give me attention, validate me, tell me that I’m too silly to think for myself, make me call you mummy and I’ll be yours.

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.

Love the idea of being all weak and confused from brainwashing and drugs and knowing I want to fight mummy off but not being able to. Hearing “Hush now, mummy’s got something to keep you quiet” as I’m overpowered and forced down to my knees, where mummy’s cock is thrust into my mouth.

A few days ago I talked about a fantasy I’d dreamt up about an ex-colleague I disliked (and, for the record, still do). This is a continuation of that, a scenario that I wouldn’t really be totally against getting into in real life…

N part II

I wake up naked in N’s bed. I can remember snapshots from the night before. I remember nodding along passively as N talked at me. I remember drinking a delicious drink. I remember finding myself in N’s flat and wanting, needing, to be naked and kissing her feet. I remember being overcome with the need to apologise to her again and again and again. And I remember having hot, sweaty sex. N had me take her from behind and, once she’d cum, had sat on my face to be licked clean.

I didn’t remember cumming myself. Because I hadn’t.

Now N is nestled against me, her naked body warm and her limbs entwined with mine. I realise I’m taking this all in very calmly and that what I actually want to do is scream and shake her awake and ask her what she’s done to me. I want to leave. I want to be gone. I want to escape whatever this situation is and pretend it never happened. I want out. But I don’t move. I lie still and watch N sleep peacefully.

Eventually N stirs and looks up at me, smiles lazily and gives me a good morning. I feel myself instinctively smile as she looks at me. I want to shake myself away from her but instead I lie there passively, smiling like an idiot. She tells me I look good when I smile, that it’s a nice improvement on my usual scowl, and I should do it more often. I want to tell her off for this, for telling me that I scowl when I actually don’t. I want to tell her I show my happiness as normally and naturally as anyone else. But I also love that she’s complimented me and want more. I want to meekly thank her.

Then her hand is on my erect penis and she’s giggling and telling me it needs taking care of. But no, that’s wrong. It’s not a penis. It’s a peeny. I have a little, unimpressive peeny and I’m very lucky N is touching it. I open my mouth to try and speak. I don’t know what I want to say. Do I want to demand answers? Do I want to thank her? Do I want to ask her to take care of my little erection? No sound comes out. My jaw just hangs open and I find that I’m vacantly staring into N’s eyes. She tells me I look stupid, so very very stupid. But she likes me to look stupid because that’s my true self. And she’s stroking me slowly and firmly, telling me how stupid and boring and rude I am, but that she’ll help me improve and become a better boy. I find I’m nodding along as I stare into her eyes, and then her pace quickens for just a few seconds and I’m cumming and cumming and cumming, grunting and moaning and humping her hand. I can feel my cock pulsing and jetting liquid into her hand, one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. And she’s telling me what a good boy I am and at that moment I so so so desperately want to be that good boy. I want to impress N. I want her approval and love and acceptance. In that moment gaining these things from her is the most important thing in the world to me.

N continues talking, informing and guiding my stupid, rude, inferior mind with her words. I’m rolling onto my front and propping myself onto all fours. And then she’s sitting in front of me and her hand appears below my face and I’m lapping up the salty treat she’s offering me. N is laughing and telling me I’m being so good, so very good. She asks me if it tastes nice. I can’t answer, I’m too busy licking her hand clean. But N seems to know this and tells me she knows I love the taste and I realise I do love the taste, she’s absolutely right. And I’m vaguely aware again of how much I hate her but I’m also grateful and thankful and I love her and need her to approve of me.

Then her hand is pressed to my face, smearing the sticky liquid all over my cheeks and lips and chin before drawing away and patting my head, wiping herself clean on my hair. N’s still laughing. She’s laughing at how stupid I look. She’s laughing at getting away with treating me like this, revelling in her acts of humiliation. I feel angry and weak, my cheeks burn with the impotence of embarrassment. She’s telling me I should thank her for such a delicious morning treat and my hatred for her sears again. She reaches forward and roughly grasps my jaw, raising my eyes to look into hers. I’m told to thank her. Her voice is icy, sharp, commanding.

I tell her I love her and thank her. She laughs uproariously. Then she’s laying back and guiding my face to her crotch. I immediately kiss and lick and suck, desperate to please and make her happy. Internally I’m screaming at this, desperate to walk out, close my eyes, just stop! But outwardly I’m passionate and attentive and I can hear myself making mewls of pleasure, blissful little sounds that indicate nothing but abject happiness. N is breathing heavily, gasping, and occasionally giving instructions which I cannot quite recall but that I know I followed immediately. I hear her tell me to thank her again and I do, my lips brushing against her lower ones as I do so.

This tips her over the edge. N giggles and squeals and moans in delight as she orgasms. After a few moments of leaving me to continue attending to her she lifts my head from her crotch and we each kneel on the bed looking into one another’s eyes. N tells me she’ll let me stay if I want to and I ask her very, very nicely. I’m furious at her arrogance and desperate, frantic, to get up and run, just run as fast and as far as I can away from her and whatever it is she’s done and is continuing to do to me. I open my mouth, determined to scream and swear and rant and threaten and declare that nothing could make me want to stay.

“I love you, N. Please, oh please, oh please may I stay here with you and be made into a better person? I want it. I need it! I’m sorry I was rude and arrogant and naughty. Please please please? I love you!” I hear myself say.

She giggles and tells me she’ll think about it as she takes hold of my head and pushes my face back down into her crotch.

Laugh at my dick. Call it cute and tell me it’s the smallest you’ve ever seen.

Please can a hot mummy hypnotise me and get me to kneel in front of her to stare at her feet and tell me I’m mummy’s happy little boy and staring at feet is all I want?

“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!”

I want to be trained to worship and adore feet. To the point where my trainer/owner/any hot lady can approach me and when I make eye contact or slip up and goggle at her boobs she can say “My feet are down here, sweetie.” I want to hear that and immediately drop my eyes down to her feet, showing deference and respect and submission, and demonstrating how easily triggered I am.

Give me a daily routine to complete then take away or deny access to key components of it. Leave me weeping and broken because I’m unable to complete my servitude as I know I should. Then make me so happy and thankful when you come along and fix everything so that I can serve you again.

Can a full-figured older lady with nice feet and a caring, nurturing personality abduct me and brainwash me over a course of months to be her helpless, obedient baby slave, please?