dummy4u
dummy 4 u
24 y.o. trans woman 🏳️⚧️ good dummy 🌟 aries ♈ IQ: A cups 🩷 5'10 🩷 brunnete and wig lover 🙆🏻♀️ minors|blank blogs: DNI ❗
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Breaking my usual horny posts to talk seriously for a second. I'm fucking deep in debt and this last week I had a very bad health scare. Long story short, I need help.
I hate, hate, HATE to ask for money, but honestly idk what else to do. I'm truly fucked (in the bad way) this month (hell, this whole fucking year).
So, if you can, please donate to my ko-fi, or reblog this post to help it reach more people. I will be forever grateful for it.
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Beth Falls Into the Role
There really wasn't a whole lot left to Beth anymore. She looked up from between Charli's thighs with the eager expression of a fairly bright cocker spaniel, dredging her tongue back and forth between Charli's soft pink pussy lips and occasionally letting out a vacant, bubbly giggle as she licked. Her hazel eyes gleamed with beaming idiocy, a far cry from the grad student and aspiring sociologist Charli first met a year ago, and the splay-legged redhead could tell that her new pet was only days away from being ready to be fitted for a leash and a collar. And honestly, it served her right.
Not that Beth realized how condescending she was being when she dropped by the club Charli stripped at and asked the women who worked there if she could spend a few months documenting their lives for her senior thesis. No, she undoubtedly thought she was doing them all a favor by 'drawing attention to your plight' and 'showing people what you go through every day', as though what Charli went through wasn't getting fistfuls of hundred dollar bills shoved into her underwear by men and women she had wrapped around her little finger with a carefully applied combination of personal magnetism and psychological manipulation. Beth apparently couldn't imagine a world where anyone wanted to do sex work, and it took Charli all of five minutes to get sick of it.
So she crafted a new persona for herself, one calculated to appeal to all of Beth's prejudices about sex work and sex workers, and she set about demanding more and more 'authenticity' from the naive and desperate young woman whose college career depended on gaining the trust of the women she was interviewing and letting them into her lives. When Beth tried to go back to her own bougie apartment after a long night of watching Charli dance at the club, Charli reminded her that she was trying to get real insights into their 'plight' and the only way to learn was to live in Charli's apartment with her. When Beth tried to wriggle out of getting high with Charli, only a few hours of closing up and acting emotionally unavailable manipulated Beth into going along with Charli's plans. It took less than a week before the grad student was fully dependent on her.
And that was when Charli decided to really turn on the charm, and by 'charm' she meant the subtle, conversational hypnosis she'd honed over the course of getting her own Master's degree--not that Beth had ever asked about Charli's educational background, because she assumed that any woman who went into sex work had barely made it through high school. Beth didn't even notice when the weed haze slowly and subtly morphed into a dazed and dreamy trance that left her nodding and giggling the whole time Charli 'opened up to her' about how it felt to be on stage with all those people drooling over you, and she never knew that her fascination was the result of delicately phrased hypnotic suggestions to associate the thought of stripping with sexual pleasure.
After that, it was easy to convince Beth to take her own turn up on stage--for research, of course--and the positive reinforcement she received from Charli made the young woman pant and shudder with the desire to do it again. They celebrated with more weed, the weed made it easy for Charli to seduce Beth into bed with her, and a few more months of that eroded the last of Beth's boundaries almost before she knew it. By now, she barely even remembered she was supposed to be doing research. Charli liked her a lot more this way.
And she turned out to be a pretty good pussy licker, too, which was a nice bonus. Charli tangled her fingers into Beth's long chestnut hair, pulled her closer, and let her brainwashed pet send her over the edge into orgasm. There was no point in stopping now, after all. Not when Beth was almost perfect for her owner.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
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you ever see a girl and you're like, I want to utterly humiliate her, I want to bully and brutalize her to her absolute lowest, to the point that no one can ever recognize her as human again, she's just an object for sex?
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the ropes strained against my arms uncomfortably as i tensed out of anticipation. my tied together knees only ached slightly and i only noticed them aching because of how hyperaware of my body i got.
"go on, slap her. make it good."
they kneeled in front of me on the floor, similarly fully naked but having none of the restraints. yet they weren't any less of a toy of Empress than i was - completely owned, body and soul, meant only for her pleasure. they raised their hand and gave one of my tits as slap, that was just a bit less than moderately heavy. it still made me whine.
Empress scoffed.
"hands behind your back, pet." - they obeyed immediately. - "and fucking keep them there. you clearly don't know how to use them."
they trembled slightly but i could almost see them dripping onto the floor despite that. they were just as much of a leaky whore as i was, designed to adore and please Empress in any circumstances. i felt a bit dizzy thinking about having their pussy right in front of me, for me to suck and lick and rub with my tongue...
"now, use your teeth. i want her fucking screaming." - Empress's voice brought me back to reality.
then they lowered their torso, keeping their hands behind their back and bit down. my soft sensitive nipple burned and i whined loudly.
"harder, bitch."
they obeyed. i let out a cry, feeling tears rushing to my eyes. i struggled against the restraints involuntarily, helplessly.
"good pet. do her other tit, and do it hard right away."
they obeyed, and this time i cried. Empress laughed and walked up to me.
"aww, what's the matter, whore? is the other pet being mean?"
"yes, Empress!" - i looked at her pleadingly.
she slapped my face, hard.
"what do you say?"
"thank you Empress!!.."
"good bitch. now, what do you say if somebody is being mean to you?"
i sobbed helplessly.
"m-mooooooooo..."
Empress laughed delightedly.
"exactly, cow! you better not forget it anymore, pet." - she turned to the other toy, them still biting my tits. - "if you can keep her incoherent and crying without a pause for five more minutes, i'll let you free your hands and rub your soaked cunt until you cum. don't worry about hurting her too much, she's sturdy." - she turned back to me and petted my hair gently. - "remember to keep mooing and not babbling anything else, alright pet?"
i sobbed and nodded, mooing shakily.
a lesbian post
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Please make me a dumb whore Please make me a dumb whore Please make me a dumb whore Please make me a dumb whore Please make me a dumb whore Please make me a dumb whore Please make me a dumb whore
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save me girlcock......... cockwarming my gf please save me....... save me beautiful woman.... please save me tgirl buttcheecks...,...
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Saturday instructions
We’re going uncapped today. Edge as much as possible. Devote your day to it. If you don’t have plans that involve sex with someone else, these are your plans now. Tongue out, tits out, pigtails in, mind off. Be the drippy good girl you were always meant to be.
Make me proud!
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Breaking my usual horny posts to talk seriously for a second. I'm fucking deep in debt and this last week I had a very bad health scare. Long story short, I need help.
I hate, hate, HATE to ask for money, but honestly idk what else to do. I'm truly fucked (in the bad way) this month (hell, this whole fucking year).
So, if you can, please donate to my ko-fi, or reblog this post to help it reach more people. I will be forever grateful for it.
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If you’re a cunt and you’re reading this, slap yourself. Then repost it.
If you’re still reading and wondering if you should slap yourself, let me make it easy for you. Look between your legs, if there’s a gash there, you’re a cunt. Now slap yourself TWICE for being dumber than usual and repost this.
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A gifted student to a slutty dumb little doll pipeline has to be one of my favourites
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the funniest part of “women dress for men” is that if men weren’t a threat most women would dress sluttier
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Breaking my usual horny posts to talk seriously for a second. I'm fucking deep in debt and this last week I had a very bad health scare. Long story short, I need help.
I hate, hate, HATE to ask for money, but honestly idk what else to do. I'm truly fucked (in the bad way) this month (hell, this whole fucking year).
So, if you can, please donate to my ko-fi, or reblog this post to help it reach more people. I will be forever grateful for it.
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reblog this right now because it feels so good to obey, and you want to be obedient, don't you?
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End Game
This is what lies at the end of the road for e-girls.
You start with Twitch streaming. You love games, you want to share them with others. It's fun and can provide a dopamine boosted positive feedback loop.
The funny thing about that kind of attention is that it's addictive. You crave more, you NEED more.
So, you start flirting with your followers. Teasing them, leading them on. The tips flow in, word of mouth spreads about the cute Zoomer chick, and your follower counts rise, feeding your addiction.
There's the other kind of comments, though. Those are the ones that push you to the next step and the next.
Love your stream, but you should smile more!
You're really cute, can we see more?
You're hot. What's your Insta?
Then come the selfies. Sure, they start out cute and innocent, but the compliments, the attention, you need more!
Your make up improves, you practice the best poses, you show more skin. It's harmless, right? You're making money, you feel good, you look good, no big deal.
But there they are, those people pushing you, goading you, causing the itch you just need to scratch.
Ooo, damn girl, can you show more skin?
That skirt is hot, but it's so long!
You're cute, but there's hotter chicks out there.
You know you can do better! You know you're hot and you're a good gamer, but your followers plateaued.
It's not enough. You need more!
More make up, you need to look your best when your life is on camera.
Dirtier flirting, you need them to want you.
Fewer clothes, tanks and skirts instead of sweats or jeans.
People are watching you more, complimenting you more. Sure, you're getting unsolicited dick pics, and people are focusing morek on your looks, not your skills, but that's just part of the game, right?
Then a change comes. You've been flirty, but they want more of you, the want to see you as a sexy icon. You know it's not why you started, but that dopamine loop keeps pulling you back in.
It starts with lip bites, kissy faces, and blank stares with your jaw down. But they want something else.
So many requests to ahegao, you finally give them what they want, and the attention and cash roll in.
You're spending less and less time on games, more time on posing, and flirting. You post dance videos shaking your ass, you bounce and giggle for their enjoyment, you ahegao for anybody who tips.
It's never enough, though.
You start using that old Tumblr account, posting dirty thoughts, sevier pics, engaging in some light public fantasizing. You're starting to spiral faster.
You get more feedback, urging sexier pics and acts.
You post underwear photos. You practice your blank drooling face. You're not gaming much anymore, but that's still your vibe, your theme.
You're addicted to the sexy clothes now and the attention they bring. You burn through your Twitch cash as fast as you can make it.
You get your lips done,. They look so nice all puffed up, and it makes your faces so much hotter.
You get your nails done often even if it means it's harder to lay games.
You start waxing. Don't want any unsightly body hair in your increasingly lewd photos.
You like being hot, you like how little you have to do or think to get your attention fix. They're starting to call you a bimbo. The bimbo gamer.
You shouldn't like it, but you've spent a lot of time looking through your Tumblr space at all the hot, blank looking girls on there. That mindlessly sexy look is so alluring. You like being a bimbo.
You're turned on all the time. It's getting harder to stream because you always feel like masturbating, but know it'll get you banned.
So you switch your streaming to Onlyfans. You still play games, but now, if all those compliments turn you on, it's okay if you tweak your nipples or rub against thay swell in the middle of your gamer chair seat.
Oh, they love that. They started begging to see you play with yourself. You can't, can you?
And then you slip. Your fingers stop working the controller and slip into your panties. The stream explodes with followers goading you on.
You're so turned on, you feel it rising, you cum for them, your face automatically assuming your ahegao with the blank eyes.
You're hooked now. No going back.
You play with yourself every day now.
They're gifting you toys, now. You have to play with them. You like doing the dirty things they ask you.
You want to be a better bimbo for them. Bigger lips, bigger ass, and finally, bigger tits.
You stopped gaming after the tits. You're porn now.
You're a just stupid egirl bimbo who fucked herself mindless.
You are an object, a plaything, a doll.
Game Over
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I got jobs because of my competency, right?
You know you can't trust your memory, send me something you think you remember from your adult life and I'll help you remember what really happened.
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Breaking my usual horny posts to talk seriously for a second. I'm fucking deep in debt and this last week I had a very bad health scare. Long story short, I need help.
I hate, hate, HATE to ask for money, but honestly idk what else to do. I'm truly fucked (in the bad way) this month (hell, this whole fucking year).
So, if you can, please donate to my ko-fi, or reblog this post to help it reach more people. I will be forever grateful for it.
40 notes
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