You know this is what you want.
You want to feel your awareness dimming, your sense of your surroundings fading as your need and desire grow. Maybe you can even start to feel it happening now - a slow burn at the back of your mind. A little nudge, an urge. It would be nice to touch yourself, wouldn’t it?
Is that all it will be? Just a quick grope, a swift and simple stroke? Or is that just going make your appetite stronger, more demanding? One little touch, and then you’ll be wanting another. And another, and another… maybe you shouldn’t touch yourself after all.
Unless of course that’s what you want. Maybe you want to feel that rush of need, that rising tide of heat and desire. Perhaps you want to find yourself dazed, losing track of time, your hands all over your body, forgetting things. Every time you touch, something is forgotten. Nothing important. Just small things, like your name, or your ability to stop, or your willpower. Nothing you’ll miss after a few more minutes of touching.
Are you ready to cum yet? Can you feel that growing inside of you, getting ready to burst? Imagine how good that will feel. Imagine what’s going to fade from your mind when that happens. Try to picture it - the look on your face when your mind shatters, broken to bits by your orgasm. Your mouth open, your eyes wide and unfocused, your hands never stopping, even as you gasp and buckle and cry out.
But it’s not coming yet, is it? It’s building and growing, but it doesn’t seem to arrive. You’re holding it back, not letting it happen. Do you know why? It’s because there’s a part of you that knows better. As you’ve been rubbing and touching and letting yourself fade, you’ve been giving up the ability to choose for yourself. It would be wrong for you to decide to make yourself cum now, wouldn’t it? Even in your hazy, addled mind, you can see that, I’m sure.
You need permission.
That’s all. You just need someone to let you. You just need to admit you’re a simple, empty-headed doll with no will. You have to give in to the fact that you’re addicted to touching yourself, and that you can’t stop, and that you don’t want to be able to stop. You need to accept that you have no will, no choice, no thoughts, no mind of your own.
You need to cum. You need to finish frying your useless little brain.
You need to beg for it, beg to be allowed to cum your mind away. You need to plead while you touch, panting and moaning with desperation.
You need permission.
You need to ask for it.
Mr. C says it’s time for me to go back to being a ditz for a time… I’m sure some of you are excited by this. Anyway, he wanted you all to vote for how long.
waistwatcher83 said: Most people will look at your rack and think "she got her nose done for her husband", not knowing the real reason. Just act like one of those Hollywood trophy wives who's constantly having enhancements done and smile and be proud. Just like Mr. C always is.
Omg your prob right
waistwatcher83 said: I love circle skirts and high heels. With your pretty caboose and big fake titties I am sure you will attract lots of attention. Just like a good trophy wife should! Have fun Cookie.
Thanks! I’m nervous to go out because my nose is still healing but I can cover a lot up with makeup
She was impressed by his physique and playfully asked if he was a bodybuilder. Without hesitation he answered in the affirmative and asked if she’d like to see where the magic happened. She followed him back to his place, eager for a little fun. Little did she know that it was her body he planned to build.
Anonymous said: Lovely to see you still here :) How would you describe your attitude to bimbos before you started this blog? And what would you say is the biggest of your changes since then?
I may have been resentful before. But I feel I was probably also a bit jealous. Jealous of their looks, that they didn’t have to live up to expectations as much…or maybe that the expectations for them were lower because of there looks.
Biggest change for me? Obviously it’s my big fake tits.