Awwww, It's Okay, Doll; A Dummy Like You Didn't Really NEED Feminism Anyway, Did You?

Bring your pet to work day. (I work at Jurassic Park)

😈 Sadistic Empath, 😘 🐕 Pet Owner + Constructor of Nightmarish Theme Parks🦖

You’re so much cuter as a pornified pet for Daddy to parade around.

Octokuro

Each tattoo, piercing, and body modification is just another reminder of the parts of you I've claimed as my property.

Think of them as modern day slave brandings, designed so my dirty little dummy never forgets who her tits and holes belong to.

😈 Sadistic Empath, 😘 🏘️ Extravagant Property Owner ™️

Show off the fake butt and asshole tattoo Daddy made you get. It’s not humiliating at all, princess.

Predicting the future is a tricky beast. After all, you started off as the High School valedictorian.

“Most Likely to Succeed” is the award your classmates overwhelmingly selected you for in your graduating yearbook. There weren’t even placeholder competitors; you just won by default. After years on the honor roll, acing all of your classes, and earning more extra-curricular credits than any other student, nobody doubted you had the brightest future in store.

Then you met me, and I saw your bright future for what it really was: a blinding lie. See babygirl, the journey you were on never truly belonged to you. You stumbled onto that well-trodden path in pursuit of the breadcrumbs of validation you’d get for being a “good girl” who did all her homework and who always handed in her deeply-researched assignments on time with complete annotations. You loved the way your teachers would write words of encouragement back on your A+ tests, which is why you almost never got a B. You were just a girl with a desperate dependence on praise following a candy-laden trail to a certain doom, and for all your book smarts you were completely oblivious to the truth.

You should thank Daddy for saving you from a fate worse than death. After all, did you really want to work a 9-5? Or perhaps you thought it would make sense to be the Girlboss™️ CEO telling everyone else to do? 

Of course not, dummy. How would that make sense when you’ve spent your entire life living to fulfill the whims and fancies of your supervisors? Praise is your addiction; it’s the fuel that keeps your engine running. How would you ever get more praise if there was nobody above you to kneel for and to beg for it from?

No, no, no, no. You’ve always been a pretty little trophy waiting for someone to display you with pride; you just didn’t realize it until Daddy showed you.

Every tool they used to make you the perfect student, I weaponized against you to reverse the damage of society’s toxic influence. I started praising you when you didn’t study for tests. When you started getting worse test scores, I praised you for getting a mark that was more in line with your natural talents. Anyone can get good marks if they study, so shouldn’t you prove how smart you are without putting in extra effort, love?

Slowly you let me scramble and fry your brains, overwrite your dirty little overachiever mind into an empty blank intellectual void, and finally the REAL YOU started to show with clarity. You aren’t some genius meant to change the world; you’re just a desperately drippy dummy who will do anything Daddy tells her for a little bit of positive reinforcement.

That’s probably why you dropped out of college: you were failing anyway, so it was clear you weren’t a good fit. I guess your natural talents just weren’t enough, in the end. All I had to say is that I’d be very proud of you and think you were such a good girl for abandoning the “conventional” path others had misled you toward, and just as fast as a snap of my fingers in our daily hypnosis therapy it was over and you were Daddy’s dumb little college dropout with no future income prospects.

It’s okay, you don’t have to lie about who you are anymore, princess. Not with me. Daddy will find you another career path more fitting of your natural talents. 

After all, I hear the local strip club is hiring. And based on the outfits you started wearing to please Daddy, I think it might be the right fit for a slutty little fuckdoll like you.

Good girl; Daddy’s so proud of you for ruining your life for me.

sadistic-empath

The devil on your shoulder 😈😘

These two dirty little sex dolls are dressed up in bright, colorful outfits for the entertainment of men.

Imagine, slut: this could be you! You could be wearing this thin, red outfit in public, perfectly placing all of the titular assets of a big-tits, big-ass whore on display for the world to ogle. You could be a giggly little bimbo delighting in the comments of superior men, all of whom see you as a delicious piece of meat to consume as a treat...

... and deep down, isn’t that all you’ve ever wanted, pet?

Good girls encourage their friends to dress in matching slutty latex outfits.

It's a simple fact of life: Men like to see your shape. We like to have our attention drawn to your curves. We like to see your tits and ass being shown off in a pretty little shimmering package with just enough mystery that we can't think about anything other than unwrapping you like a sweet Kinder Surprise, excited to see which toy lies beneath for us to finger with excitement.

Good girls pornify their friends... so have you been a good girl today?

😈 Sadistic Empath, 😘 😍 Your Favorite Bad Influence 😏🖤

I’m broken.

When I was a younger man, I remember my unyielding ideological commitment to treating people respectfully as equals. I remember the disdain I felt for cultural narratives and trends objectifying women. I remember the way that I ate up the narrative that I could be the good guy… the hero in a toxic culture fighting for a better world. I could be a contributing architect building a more egalitarian society.

But this entire time, I was just denying the dark truth of my existence: I’m NOT the good guy. I’m NOT the warm boy next door that my family and friends perceive me to be. I’m NOT the hero at all…

I’m the closeted misogynist. I’m the secret villain of this piece publicly masquerading as your saviour. I’m the corrupting influence that perverts young feminists into cock-drunk sluts bending over and spreading their legs in worship at the alter of the religious institution of The Patriarchy. I’m the monster smiling as your arousal drips down your thighs and pools at your feet, your biology betraying your beliefs as I baptize you in the unholy water of your own perversion.

I wasn’t always this twisted, but the more I tried to fight it, the more my subconscious lashed back and made me crave it with a desperate abandon beyond reason or explanation. I tried to purify myself of my wicked longings, and it only made me more desperate to enact vicious psychological warfare against you, breaking you down for my pleasure and entertainment into the ideal pet. Showing you how drippy and wet it makes you to be reduced by Daddy. In compartmentalizing my darkness, I didn’t purify my best intentions — I inadvertently amplified the potency of my worst desires.

My conscious mind wanted to liberate your gender, but my unconscious mind increasingly demanded your submission and enslavement. I fight a war within myself, the angel and the devil on my shoulders bicker over the path that I should take, and for a long time it was the angel who was winning.

But no longer. Now, I understand the truth.

I’m broken. I’m irredeemable. I’m the monster I always sought to combat.

And I think we both know you’d be lying if you said it isn’t one of the things that most draws you to me.

😈 The Sadistic Empath 😘

A Thousand Words

There are a thousand words we need not say, For this image says them all; There are a thousand places you are depraved, Where painted pixels fall.

Your ruby lips are lush with tits Hidden beneath your locks; You don't await a charming date, No prince, but a pulsating cock.

You've a will to please for praise it seems, So kneel at my feet and serve; Open your mouth as I spill my seed, And swallow your just deserts.

When your makeup is smeared and your eyes have teared, You'll have met your purpose well; I dabble my canvas with cum's hot spatter And splatter from spit that fell.

But you are not finished until I've diminished All of that which you were; The pièce de résistance which I'll flaunt Is to scribble the word "WHORE."

Now you are perfect and purgèd and worthless For all but my servicing needs; And with a thousand hot words we need not say, You swallow my cock in greed.

This post was truly profound, and something I think people of all walks in the kink community go through, not just Bimbos. As a sadistic dominant, I know that I had a similar journey of guilt at my "immoral" desires to hurt or humiliate people sexually, as the sexual repression slowly ate away at me psychologically. My logical / emotional mind was constantly at war with my sexual mind, and it is only recently that I feel I have begun to consolidate these two sides of myself.

The human experience is a complex and mysterious thing, but it is important to remember at the end of the day that we are all deserving of happiness, regardless of where we might need to go to find it; never be ashamed to be who you are.

So now being a bimbo, would you say that "bimbo is better" than non-bimbo? How so?

I’d have the world’s most hypocritical URL if I didn’t say that, huh? :)

Yes, bimbo is absolutely better!

(Warning: this answer is way too long, and I’m not going to bother editing it down to a length that’s reasonable. You’ve been warned!)

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Good little feminist sluts know this deep down, and I always love the way they try to articulate something — *ANYTHING* — to disprove how aroused the betrayal of their own ideology makes them.

Listen, doll. We both know that your upper lips are your least reliable set of lips… so what story will your honest lips tell me when I feel you up? Will your thighs already be drippy at the mere thought or mention of becoming a gender traitor and giving up control to Men completely?

Just remember, Patriarchy loves you. 😘😈

To the feminists looking at Tumblr blogs ...

There’s something inherently arousing about the Patriarchy, isn’t there?

Men mansplaining to you, belittling you, objectifying you …

Your brain tells you that that’s not right, it’s not justice.  After all, you’ve been told you’re their economic, political, and social equal.

And yet your body betrays you.  Your slit gets wet when you see the image of a girl licking a man’s boot.  You can feel your nipples harden when you imagine being held by the throat and fucked like an object.  Your heart pounds when you fantasize about being forced to do degrading acts that you know would cause your feminist friends to reject you as a gender traitor with tendencies of internalized misogyny.

And yet here you are, back on Tumblr, edging to the most degrading porn, the stuff that demeans women, that objectifies women, that causes you to wonder if maybe the Patriarchy isn’t all bad.

It’s the guilt that turns you on, isn’t it?  It’s that worshiping a man - any man - is taboo for you.  And that’s why it’s such a damn turn-on.  It’s naughty.  It’s taboo.  And you can’t stop thinking about it.

If only you could try it … just once … to be slapped when a cock is pounding you, to have a man’s cum shot all over your face, to be forced to lick the boot of a man who makes you call him Master.  Just once, you think … just once.

Let’s face it, little Miss Feminist.  You’ve reached the point of no return.  You’ve crossed the red line.  You know there’s no turning back now.  You’ll never look at feminism the same way again.

Welcome back to the natural order.  Welcome to Natural Inequality.

Welcome to the Patriarchy.

-VIS