“You Want To Go Home? This IS Your Home, Silly. Maybe You Need Auntie To Explain It All To You Again.”

Today a woman on the tube was wearing wedge sandals with long straps that get tied around the lower leg, and a really short gold-green dress. She had beautifully smooth creamy legs. I so wanted to ask her to let me gently and carefully take her heels off and let me massage and admire her feet. Then she could have taught me how to tie them back on, preferably with an emphasis on the correct etiquette (real or entirely made up just for me to adhere to) of tying the laces.

“Baby, you told me that you never really liked sex. You said you only ever wanted it because you thought you should, as a man. But then mummy helped you realise you’re not a man, you’re just a baby boy. And baby boys don’t have sex do they? No. Can you remember what they do have? That’s right, humpies! What a clever boy! Why don’t you have humpies with the corner of the couch here. You’ll have a lovely view of mummy’s legs as she watches television.”

I wish I had a mummy who was keeping me locked up “just for the weekend.”

“Don’t be silly, baby! Mummy loves your limp, flaccid little baby dick so, so much. I wouldn’t let you make your weak dribble once a week if I didn’t like it, would I? Mummy just needs a big, powerful cock in her every so often to make her feel like a woman. You make mummy feel like a woman in other ways. Ways that don’t involve that cute baby dick of yours.”

Fantasy idea: dress me up in a onesie or a little sailor suit. Cuff my wrists together and my ankles together and then cuff those sets of cuffs together. Put a gag in my mouth. Leave me to awkwardly crawl around on the floor all weekend. Tell me I have to do my best to always be in your view and then, of course, find lots of reasons to keep moving around the house. When you do settle somewhere make it somewhere awkward for me to sit. Go for long stretches of barely acknowledging me and then occasionally overload me with praise and maybe some touching.

Watch me become yours.

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.

This is one of the greatest Tumblr posts I’ve ever read. I absolutely love it.

"That should be the very last injection of your medication. You've been such a strong patient through the last few months, getting your doses on time. I'm so proud of you."

"I know I said it's supposed to be treating your anxiety, but actually it's been making it worse. See, as your insecurities grew, it was easier for me to manipulate them. You only feel happy around me now, which is why you've been taking me to dinner, and on shopping trips, and why you're paying for my car."

*looks down at where you are, on your knees, the syringe still hanging from your arm. She lifts up her leg and places one perfect goblin foot against your lips, pressing her toes into your mouth until you begin to obediently suck on them*

"Now, you're going to sign your power of attorney, but first you're going to clean each of my pretty feet. It will make you happy. It will make you whole again. It will make you my slave."

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.

I want a cuddly, caring, controlling mummy to give me an oral fixation. Get me so deep that I’m instantly hard when you slip a finger in my mouth. Build me up to coming to you and asking, very nicely and politely, if I can please suck your strap on tonight.

Collar me, attach a leash, and slip the handle around your ankle so I have to crawl around after you and can only see your feet. Nothing more arousing for a leashed, chaste puppy slave.