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smutteryofvathek · 16 hours
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Viral Marketing
A girl has been seeing unusual adverts. There's a reason for this.
-
Like everyone, Rose hated ads, and did her best to avoid them.
Generally she was pretty good at this, too, but there was one - or a couple ones, it was sort of hard to tell - lately that kept catching her out, and which she kept watching.
For whatever reason, every time it popped up she'd forget to skip it. It'd start, and on reflex she'd move, but then she'd hear that music and see those odd patterns and colours and she'd just...
...stop.
And by the time she noticed she'd stopped it would be over. Those colours and those patterns and that music would have swirled to the same, soothing stop and all that would be left was that logo she had no idea what to make of. It was a circle, she got that, but there was something in the circle. Letters? Hard to tell.
And that was it. Nothing else. No clue or hint what it was they might actually be wanting to sell her, no obvious place to go to find out, not even an actual name. Just that logo.
Just that nice, fuzzy feeling in her head. Only for a second, and always leaving her a little confused, but always there anywhere. They weren't that bad, she supposed...
It was weird. It made no sense. It kept on bobbing up into her brain whenever she zoned out staring into space or those times she got bored at work. Her mind would wander, and in its wanderings it would find those patterns and colours and that music, and it was usually up to someone else to snap her out of it.
Very strange. What was the deal with those?
Not a problem for today, though. Today was just another boring, normal day, and she was popping out to go get her standard boring, normal coffee. On the way, she absent-mindedly tried to pull the hem on her skirt down to afford a little more modesty. It didn't really work.
She had no idea why she thought this skirt had been a good idea. In fact, she had no idea she'd even owned this skirt until after she was halfway to work and noticed she was wearing it. Really did keep zoning out these days.
Was quite a nice skirt, though.
Rose was all set to go back to the office with her coffee (once she'd got it) and continue being very bored when, on her way to the door, she noticed a man. Specifically, she noticed something the man was wearing. it was a badge on the collar of his suit jacket. The badge was of a circle with something in it. Something like letters, maybe.
She stopped dead.
On the one hand it was probably a coincidence, and on top of which a bad idea to make anything of it. On the other, this was the first real-world thing she'd seen that showed she wasn't just imagining the ads. Could get an answer at last. Too good an opportunity to pass up.
Against her better judgement she went over.
"Uh, excuse me?" She asked. The man looked up, pleasantly surprised by what he saw. He smiled.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"It's the, uh, the badge?" Rose asked, pointing to it. He looked down.
"Huh. That right? Please," he said, indicating the chair opposite him.
Again, against her better judgement but burning with curiosity, Rose sat. She had time.
"So you've been seeing the ads, have you?" He asked, lacing his hands on the table in front of him. That he knew instantly what it was she wanted to talk about she took as a sign. Not necessarily a good one.
"Yeah. What are they for? What are you selling?"
He looked at her. Something in the way he looked at her made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Like he was seeing something she wouldn't know to look for if she was looking at herself.
"You know," he said. "Only very special girls get to see those adverts. Did you know that?"
"I'm not a girl," Rose said, hotly. His tone had touched a nerve. The spin he'd put on 'girl'. If he could have reached over and patted her on the head, he probably would have. That kind of tone.
He looked her up and down, and the way he looked at her this time was much more straightforward. Rose's face burned.
"Could have fooled me," he said.
"I'm a woman."
"Hmm. Anyway. Only special girls get the adverts. Don't ask me how they work it out, that's not my department. All algorithms these days, anyway. Who knows what you did to stand out? What you looked at to get yourself chosen? You did though, so you saw the adverts."
"Yeah, I know. But why? What's the point?"
The man paused a moment here, clearly weighing up his options and whether he should say what he wanted to say or not. Once the moment was up, he said:
"The point. The point is very simple. Why does anyone advertise anything? We're trying to reach people. Though we're not reaching a market, as such. More like... expanding inventory."
The smile was a grin now.
Rose had had enough.
"This was a waste of time," she said, standing.
"Stop," he said and she froze, or at least her body did. Her mind jolted when her body decided to stop listening, and then started to panic when she realised that, however much she might want to, she couldn't get herself to keep moving.
"Sit," he said. Her body sat, ignoring how her mind said she shouldn't.
"What are you-" she started to ask, getting over the shock and remembering she could speak. Didn't get that far though.
"Quiet," he said, simply smiling again, and her talking stopped.
He smiled at her a moment longer. The smile made it very, very clear that he knew however quietly and still she was sitting there, inside she was fighting. He knew. And he knew it was useless, too.
"You know, I've never spoken to one of the girls who wasn't ready for a full induction yet. You must be pretty close though. Very close."
All that Rose could move, she discovered, was her eyes. They were wide, and they were fixed on him. Briefly, desperately, they darted about the coffee shop, hoping someone else would catch them, would see what was happening, would do something.
"No-one's going to help you," he said. "Everyone's far too busy. They don't know you, anyway. As far as anyone watching is concerned, we're just two strangers having a chat. So eyes on me. Eyes on me. That's better."
She couldn't look away anymore.
"'Expanding inventory'. That might be a bit euphemistic so let's be clear: you are the inventory here. You and those other girls who see the ads. People one day, our stock the next. That make sense? Nod."
Rose nodded. She didn't want to. She wanted to run away. Instead her body nodded.
"Of course it does take a bit longer than that. There's induction, like I say, and we have to make sure you're properly ready. But that all happens after the ads. The ads are laying the groundwork. Like they've laid it in you. Go crosseyed and stick out your tongue."
She did. The man chuckled.
"I do like that. Stop now. But yes, groundwork. Have you noticed yourself dressing differently lately? More provocatively, maybe? I doubt you've noticed the little things. That you bend at the waist more now, that you've stopped doing up quite as many buttons on the shirts you wear to work. Hmm? Did you notice that?"
She hadn't. She did now. He saw it in her eyes and wagged a finger at her, satisfied.
"There it is. Little changes. They add up. They're probably made you a bit more enjoyable to be around lately, but the real changes - the important ones - are the ones you can't see. The ones that have you sitting there quietly. That's not all they can do, either. Play with yourself under the table."
Rose wanted to, that was the worst part. Her brain was saying she shouldn't, she didn't have to, that this was wrong and she needed to get away, but it also knew that playing with herself was something she desperately wanted to do and had no choice about anyway.
His words had slid past anything and everything she had. Her body moved without needing to be told. Her legs parted, and both hands went underneath the table and out of sight. No-one noticed.
Except him, of course.
For a few seconds he didn't say anything else. He was too busy enjoying watching her helplessly, obediently play with her cunt right there in front of him, in front of everybody. As before, it really was the look in her eye that did it for him. A fight she couldn't hope to win.
"This is much more fun than it normally is, you know. Normally the girls are so far along there's nothing there. Dolls, really. All blank. With you, I can see what's left. For now, anyway."
He sipped his coffee.
"So what happens next for you..." he reached over the table a little to lift and have a look at the name badge dangling by her tits. "Rose? What happens next is that whatever life you thought you were going to have is over. You're ours now. Don't be too upset - if you were seeing the ads, it was going to happen anyway."
He hadn't said she could cum. She was horrified and scared but so so needy and so so close but she just couldn't finish because she knew he needed to say so and he hadn't and he hadn't said she could stop and-
"If you hadn't found me here today, you would have found your way to us eventually anyway. That's where the programming goes. One day you'd just finish having the instructions loaded into your head, you'd get up, and you'd go, and that'd be that."
Rose couldn't speak or make any noises deliberately, but a few little mewls and moans were starting to escape. They made him smile wider.
"Someone's close. That didn't take long. I hope you can still concentrate on what I'm saying. You're product now, Rose. That's you now. We are going to take you, find someone who likes the look of you, and you're going to be useful to them. That's it. Once you're ready, obviously. Soon. But not so soon I can't find a use for you..."
She couldn't stop she couldn't stop she couldn't stop
He checked his phone and clucked his tongue, finishing off the rest of his drink.
"There's probably a rule somewhere that says I should turn you over for an inspection and induction immediately in a situation like this but, well, I haven't read that rule yet. I think I'll turn you over to the induction boys in the morning and you should be in the catalogue this time next week. That'll give us a night."
Looking, he saw the obvious, naked desperation in her eyes.
"Speak," he said.
"Please please please please pleasepleasepleaseplease-"
It had burst out. Rose couldn't help herself.
"Quiet. Stop playing."
She did, immediately. Her whole body was quivering. If she could have sobbed with need, she would have. Instead, she sat quietly, unmoving, as he again reached across the table and this time lifted her lanyard off from her around her neck completely. He looked at her name badge.
"What was your name again? Speak."
"Rose," she croaked. He nodded.
"Hmm. Forget," he said. The girl felt a pinch in her head but couldn't remember why. "What's your name again?" He asked.
The girl blinked. The question was a bit confusing. She couldn't remember ever having had a name. If she had, it would have been obvious, but there was only a gap. She hadn't ever had one. It was a confusing question.
"I don't have one?" She ventured, a little unsure. The answer was obvious, but that he was asking it sort of suggested to her maybe it wasn't the right one. To her relief he nodded.
Wait, relief? Why was she relieved? Why was she even still sitting here?! She needed to-
"Good," he said, and his voice stopped whatever thoughts she might have been trying to put together. Her throbbing cunt also helped with that. Hard to concentrate on anything else. Listening to him was easy, though. His voice cut through everything.
"We're leaving. Stand."
And she stood, and she walked out quietly with him, his hand on her hip. Tiny bits of thought and vague ideas of worry nipped at her brain, but with him there, guiding her, they couldn't grab hold. He had her.
They went out the door.
He left her coffee and her name on the table.
The girl wasn't going to be needing either of those for what was to follow.
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smutteryofvathek · 2 days
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Also, another thing that's changed since I was here last (although I may just not have noticed before, it would be very me) is girls putting the size of their tits down as their IQ on here.
That's cute, I like that a lot.
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smutteryofvathek · 4 days
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Oh dear. You said something stupid. Again.
It must have sounded so smart in your head but, the moment you said it, you knew you'd made a mistake. It wasn't smart. Now everyone is looking at you. They look disappointed. Some look like they're trying not to laugh.
This keeps happening. You keep trying but it keeps happening. You probably should have learnt by now but, well, you're pretty dumb, and some things take a while to sink in. This is one of them.
You're going to keep making the same mistake. You're going to keep saying stupid things. You're going to keep looking dumb in front of everybody.
Unless...
Well, it's rather harder for a girl to sound like an idiot with her mouth full. Or at least, she'll sound the right kind of stupid. Not like she's pretending. She'll be making the sort of stupid noises people would expect her to make. Not words, but smaller sounds. Wet, muffled sounds. Stupid, yes, but more appropriate sounds for a girl to be making.
If her mouth was full.
Oh dear. That thought's in your head. Again.
You wouldn't look anywhere near as stupid if you were sucking cock.
You'd look like a slut, yes, on your knees while everyone was watching, yes, but you wouldn't look as stupid. Certainly you wouldn't lose as much respect sucking cock as you would trying to sound smart. People expect you to suck cock. That's where your talents lie, and everyone already knows it.
And yes we know you don't like to think about it, we know you want people to think you're smart and not a cocksucking dummy, but that's just not going to happen. No-one was going to respect you, and no-one will. You can pretend all you like, but you already know it.
And the thought's in your head anyway. The thought of the next oh-so-clever thing you try to say getting no further than the base of the cock hilted in your throat.
That probably got a twitch. Maybe a little one, but still. It was there.
That idea isn't going away, and you're not going to be getting any smarter anytime soon. Everyone knows exactly what you are. You're not changing that. You know exactly what you are, too, and you're not changing that either.
So the next time you're convinced that what you have to say is smart or witty or insightful or important, second-guess yourself, realise you're wrong, get on your knees, and get something in your mouth that actually belongs there.
Much better.
Those are the kind of stupid sounds we much prefer hearing out of you.
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smutteryofvathek · 7 days
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"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Please sir, can I cum now?"
"Tsch, you're a needy little thing, aren't you? But you're right, you have been very good for me lately so I suppose maybe letting you might be deserved. You just need to suck one more cock for me. Okay? He'll be here in a second."
"... b-but... sir..."
"But what?"
"B-but that's what you said b-before the-"
"Before the what?"
"B-before the last one, s-sir... you promised..."
"That doesn't sound right to me. That's what I said to you just now."
"You said it before, sir, I remember."
"So you're saying I'm lying?"
"No, sir! N-no! I'm not! Please!"
"So if I'm not a liar then you're wrong. I think you're getting confused again, my little dummy. But that's okay. That's why I'm here to help you, hmm?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"If I'd said it before the last one you'd be cumming now. Since you're not, I must not have said it. Simple, yes? You can be so scatter-brained sometimes. Just one more cock and then you can cum. Okay? I'm telling you that now. Just one more."
"I can do that, sir."
"Good girl. You're doing so well. Just one more, that's easy, isn't it?"
"Easy sir, yes sir."
"Good girl. Ah, here's your next one. Oh, brought a friend? You wait outside, she'll get to you once she's done with him."
"B-but sir-!"
"Shh. Just one more. Okay? I promise. Just one more."
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smutteryofvathek · 7 days
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Office toy
More fun in an office. Inspired by a conversation I had with a good girl.
The newest office toy performs some tasks.
-
The toy waits under the desk.
The toy belongs under the desk. She isn't properly finished yet, so she's limited to under the desk, out of sight, but she doesn't mind. She doesn't think enough to mind. She was told that she'll be under the desk, trained in what she'd need to do, and now here she is.
Waiting.
Eventually, someone sits at the desk. A man. The toy doesn't see who it is but it doesn't matter who it is - he is sitting at the desk she is under, so she's for him. Even though she feels a flutter of excitement and a little flutter in her cunt, she stays waiting. He hasn't told her to do anything yet.
She loses track of time. Doesn't think of much, doesn't really think at all. Most of the extra thoughts she had cluttering up her head they got rid of already, and the few tiny bits leftover will be gone soon, they say. So the toy just waits, bare cunt letting out a little dribble that runs down the inside of her leg. That's another old, bad thought leaking away.
The toy is excited, obviously - desperately excited and so very, very needy - but she's nervous as well. This'll be the first time she'll have actually sucked a cock on command since she started being fixed into something useful. What if she does it wrong? All the training and conditioning she'd been run through had told her what to do, obviously, and everyone had always said what a good girl and a fast learner she was, but still. What if she didn't please him?
The worrying got so bad she almost missed the little tap on the head. Almost, but the instant it happened her head emptied completely. What happened next happened automatically. Her brain wasn't required. Everything had been written across her old thoughts, smothering and drowning them out.
One tap, middle of the forehead. She knew what that meant. Desk toys learnt what all the signals meant, how many taps and where telling them what the man wanted. You shouldn't need to talk to use a desk toy. Two taps on the left temple? Wants his cock warmed, which the toy will do until he tells it to stop. Three harder taps on top of the head? Wants the toy to fuck her face on his cock, which the toy will do.
One tap, middle of the forehead? Standard. Just a normal blowjob.
She was already doing it. There'd been a blur when she'd been going through the motions of taking out his cock and when she hadn't really been present, but now she was. Hands behind her back, mouth full, head bobbing. She groaned. Percect. Exactly like how she'd been trained, like all the times they'd told her how good she was.
He seemed to be enjoying it. She hoped he was. Without seeing him it was slightly hard to tell, but only slightly. The pulse and throb of him on her lips, her tongue, was a good sign. They'd taught her to be aware of those. She knew she wouldn't see the rest of him, and he wouldn't see her. You did not see desk toys, generally. You expected them to be there, you reached under when you needed them, and you tapped them so they did what they were meant to do. Like any office gadget.
The toy's training took over again. She was thinking too much. That was bad. She shouldn't have been thinking, her whole world should have been his cock, so that's what her whole world shrunk down to. For a little while there was just quiet slurping and panting and muffled moaning from underneath the desk. She didn't see the man hitting keys above her, and though she heard the sound, her brain just ignored it. Not important. His cock was her world. Nothing else mattered.
He came down her throat and she didn't spill a drop, exactly like how she'd been trained. She cleaned him perfectly, put him away again, and then knelt back and waited. He did not touch her again.
-
The toy waits behind the desk.
Some time has passed. She'd been improved. Parts of the old her she won't need again have been removed, and new parts have been put in to replace them. She's graduated from being a simple desk toy to being a proper office toy. Now she looks the part. She stands behind the desk in the toy uniform, in her skirt, hands behind her back, eyes front, waiting. Not a single thought in her head.
She's standing behind her owner. The toy is company property, but she's been assigned a specific owner. She follows him, ready to obey whenever he needs her to. That is her purpose now. She has a purpose now. She's been taught to know this makes her happy.
The toy is so happy.
Her owner is working. He's been working all day. He's been so busy he hasn't even used her once. If they hadn't weaned her off feeling selfish she might have been frustrated, but since office toys were improved from desk toys, instead all she registered was a distant, dull throb she didn't really understand.
And she kept waiting.
Without looking back or saying anything her owner reaches out and taps hard on his desk, two times. The toy moves immediately. She moves over, bends, spreads her legs and lifts the skirt out of the way. It's automatic.
She stays in position as her owner gets out of his chair. He moves around behind her. She can't see him, but she can hear what he's doing. Rattle of a belt buckle, the sound of his flies. Then the feeling of his hand settling onto her hip. She trembles but stays in position. Then the feeling of his cockhead pressing against her ever-so-briefly, before he pushes inside.
What little of her brain they'd allowed her to keep brought up the memory of back when she'd been a desk toy, what felt a lot longer ago than it was actually was.
She remembered - briefly - the very first time she'd been used, how she hadn't seen the man using her, not really. She'd just done what she'd been conditioned to do without having to see or know anything. She was a better toy now, a proper one, and she was being used properly as well. And she wasn't seeing the man using her, again.
She'd got better, but to him she was still just a hole. A place for his cock to go. Not a person to be acknowledged. Barely communicated with. Her owner hadn't ever actually spoken to her at all.
The toy didn't know why - and was far, far too stupid to have been able to explain it even if she had known why - but for some reason she very nearly came on his cock with permission right then and there.
She didn't. She was far too well trained.
But she could have done.
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smutteryofvathek · 10 days
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Cunts are like girls. Girls are like cunts.
Wet and needy. Girls are wet and needy. Cunts are wet and needy. Girls are like cunts.
Meant to be filled with cock. Girls are meant to be filled with cock. Cunts are meant to be filled with cock. Girls are like cunts.
For men. Girls are for men. Cunts are for men. Girls are like cunts.
Wet and needy.
Meant to be filled with cock.
For men.
Cunts are like girls. Girls are like cunts.
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smutteryofvathek · 11 days
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Before, back when you were still confused, when you didn't know what a bad girl you were being, you probably came all the time.
You probably didn't even think about it. Why would you have done? You thought you didn't need permission and so you came whenever you wanted. You came a lot.
You came a lot because you were always playing with yourself. Even back when you were bad you were a needy, horny little girl, you just didn't like to admit it. You played with yourself, you came, you stayed a bad girl.
Now you're better. Now you know better. You know what you did was wrong. You didn't have the right to cum when you did. You should have asked all those times. That wasn't your decision to make. Those weren't yours.
Cumming is not a right. It is a reward.
But you're better now. You're a good girl now. Now you wait for your reward and don't make a fuss when you get told no, not today.
You smile and nod when you get told no, tomorrow, even if that's what he said yesterday, too. You wipe the cum from your chin and open wide when you get told it'll be after this next cock, promise, even if the line waiting to use you just keeps getting longer.
You're going to make up for what a bad girl you were. Going to make up for all those times you acted like your cunt was just for you. Like you were a person. You're going to show him you're better.
Even if it means you'll never cum again, you'll show him you're better. They were never yours to have. You know. You'll show him you know.
You'll be so good.
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smutteryofvathek · 12 days
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Porn, not a person
No! That's wrong! That's disgusting! Girls aren't porn and I am a person! I can think for myself and I'm smart and i-
Porn, not a person
S-stop that! Stop saying that! It's not true! I am a person! Girls are people! This isn't right! I-I'm more than that! I can think-
Porn, not a person
C-can't think... I mean, I can... it's... porn... I'm... n-no! I'm-
Porn, not a person
I'm not... please... I'm not... not a... person...
Porn, not a person
I'm... porn... not a... person...
Porn, not a person
Porn not a person...
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smutteryofvathek · 15 days
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A good wiggle is very important, and something certainly worth the time to practise.
All sorts of things can confuse girls these days. All sorts of choices and complicated ideas - things girls just aren't equipped to deal with. A good wiggle will help. A good wiggle will see worries and confusion just fall right out of your head.
Try it!
If it didn't work, try again!
And if it still didn't work you clearly need to practise a bit more, because a good wiggle is very important, and should always be any good girl's first step if ever she finds herself trying to think.
The second (and last) step is, of course, asking a man for help. This will fix it.
But only after a good wiggle! Always try the wiggle first! Giggle and wiggle!
So get practising!
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smutteryofvathek · 17 days
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As an aside, as someone who left more-or-less a little after the porn ban and who has since returned (perhaps unwisely), the flip-a-coin approach Tumblr apparently takes to what constitutes a flagged post baffles me.
That gif over there of someone sucking dick? Fine.
Your gif of someone sucking dick? Unacceptable.
Sigh.
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smutteryofvathek · 17 days
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Get dumber. Get wetter. Get fucked.
Get dumber. Get wetter. Get fucked.
Dumber. Wetter. Fucked.
Dumber. Wetter. Fucked.
Dumb.
Wet.
Fucked.
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smutteryofvathek · 19 days
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And you sit there, trembling and breathless from the last ruined orgasm, and your simple mind wanders. Not very far, but still. A little bit.
How many was that today? Was that your third, or your fourth? You struggle, but you can't remember. Numbers are hard. Thinking is hard. Edging is easy. You don't even notice you started doing it again. Edging is easy. Edging is automatic.
Your silly little brain is still wandering though, because it's simple and slow and takes time to catch up. You've given up trying to remember how many times it's been today - hopeless, useless, too dumb - so instead you're trying to remember the last time you came.
Has it been days? No, longer. A week? Not sure. Maybe more than one week? That feels right, but still not long enough. A month? Two? Three?
Ever? You have to have done it once, at least. At least once? You try to remember. It makes your head spin.
Numbers are hard. Remembering is hard. Thinking is hard. Cocks are hard.
You groan. Your simple brain stops worrying. It never takes much. Cocks are hard. You don't notice you're smiling. Big, wide, dumb smile.
Why does it matter how many times it's been today? All that matters is that you can do one more.
Why does it matter how long it's been? How many days, weeks, months? You can do one more.
You groan again and this time there's a little giggle mixed in too. You've been so silly. Trying to think, trying to remember. Those are hard, but only one hard thing matters.
Cocks are hard.
Cocks are
Cocks
Cocks
Cocks
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smutteryofvathek · 22 days
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Your value is as an object.
Your value is in being something of use.
You've tried so hard to be something you're not. Tried so hard to be something you can't be. Tried so hard to be something you've been told you should be.
It isn't what you are. You've always known what you are. It's always been underneath. No matter what else you tried to cover it up with, it was always there. You can't ignore it.
Don't ignore it. Give into it. Accept it.
Give into what you really are. Give into what you've tried to hide. Give into being an object. Give into being owned and controlled. Give into having a purpose, being useful. Give into an empty mind. Give into being a hollow vessel.
You won't miss who you've been pretending to be.
It was never real anyway.
It was never what you were.
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smutteryofvathek · 27 days
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Movie Night
Another story about questionable films, because why not.
Cheesy movie night has a profound effect on the two girls watching.
-
Movie night with June and Rosie, as was tradition for them. To June’s dismay, it was Rosie’s turn to pick, and she’d again picked something absolutely awful. Her girlfriend’s fondness for cheesy eighties horror films would never cease to baffle her.
“It’s fun!” Rosie protested, and June did not believe her for an instant. She believed her even less once the VHS tape went in and the thing started properly.
Very, very quickly the nature of the thing became apparent. The production values were just awful, the sets cheap, and the effects laughable. June found the lady actors particularly grating. They had clearly not been selected for ability, unless it was the ability to somehow not fall out of their tops despite every effort to do so.
June did not pay much attention to what was going on. She even started looking on her phone at one point, despite knowing how much Rosie hated it when she did that. She only looked up again when she heard a tiny excited gasp from along the sofa and checked to see what the fuss was.
The big monster of the film, the title threat, the draw. That’s what it was. It lumbered on-screen all dripping slime and slavering jaws and writhing tentacles. Clearly this was where the money had gone because, compared to everything else she’d seen so far, this thing actually looked halfway decent.
“That’s pretty gross,” June said, tongue sticking out in disgust.
“Heh, yeah,” Rosie said, attention glued to the screen.
And on the screen the heroine - or maybe not the heroine? June couldn’t really tell any of the women in the film apart, if she was being honest - finally noticed the encroaching menace of the horrible monster and, as was pretty standard for the era, screamed without actually doing anything to get away.
June rolled her eyes. Naturally.
The monster was onto the heroine in seconds, shambling forward to ensnaring her in its tentacles which slithered forward to wrap around her ankles and wrists, hauling her in. There was more screaming, obviously. June waited for those big jaws to chomp down on the girl’s head or something.
But that wasn’t what happened. The big jaws opened, yes, but instead out came a long, lolling tongue which swept out and over the heroine, utterly coating her in thick drool - thick drool which inexplicably began to dissolve her clothing and nothing else.
“Uh,” June said, blinking, not entirely sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. Rosie remained silent, though she was now hugging a cushion.
“Unf, oh - no please…” the heroine whimpered, struggling uselessly in the grip of the monster, chest thrust out, awkwardly obvious fake tits bared to the world. June blinked some more.
“Uh,” she said again, dumbfounded.
Maybe these films were just like this sometimes? Mean, she’d seen a little t-and-a in these things here and there on these movie nights, but nothing so brazen so far. Maybe this one was just more lurid. Probably just that. Kind of weird, sure, but whatever, nothing serious.
She watched. The heroine was whimpering some more and continuing to fail to escape.
“No - ah, unh - so helpless, please…” 
The monster growled some more then raised the heroine up higher, pulled her legs further apart, and let that long lolling tongue come up between them to greedily lap at what June saw was a very bare, very uncensored, very real pussy.
“Uh, Ro?” She asked again, but her girlfriend didn’t answer.
“N-no! N-not there! Ah!” The heroine moaned, hips thrusting, only succeeding in making things worse as the tentacles holding her wrists raised higher and wider.
“Ro, are you sure-”
“Shh…”
“But this is-”
“Shh!”
June was too stunned to really argue.
Onscreen, the tongue of the monster had withdrawn, and the now-panting heroine was lifted high above and over a great, big, slimy monstercock. It was so blatant that June could do nothing but stare at it, agape. It was just so big. It had veins, she could see them throbbing. She could see another bead of slime build on the tip and roll down all the way to the base. She couldn’t look away. It was just so big, it made the girl look so small, so pathetic. She couldn’t stop staring at it.
“I can’t - ah!” The heroine gasped, eyes widening as she was lowered and her puffy cuntlips came to rest on the tip of the monstercock. Her writhing increased, but only made her grind against it. “N-no, not that! P-please! I - unh!”
June couldn’t look away. The shot had pulled in to give a picture-perfect view of the heroine’s slick, dripping pussy as she rubbed uselessly back and forth against the tip of that big, fat monstercock. June could see the way the heroine’s lips spread ever-so-lovingly apart around the tip, like a kiss, could see the slime properly leaking now, mingling with the dripping juices of the heroine. She couldn’t look away from that cock.
“Ro…”
“This is a good bit,” Rosie said in a monotone.
“This is a good bit…” June repeated, just as flatly.
Little by little, inch by inch, the heroine was being pulled down onto the big, beautiful monstercock. June saw perfectly as more and more of it disappeared into her. June imagined how it must feel, being stretched out by that monstercock, filled by it. She couldn’t look away.
“Unf, it’s so big…” the heroine sighed. For possibly the first time since the film started the actress’s performance was actually convincing. Very convincing, in fact. It was almost real. The heroine stopped trying to escape and started to, very obviously, fuck back against the beautiful, perfect monstercock. June couldn’t blame her. She would, too. She wanted to.
“So big, feels so good…” moaned the heroine, who was looking right at the camera now. June would have scoffed at that before, put it down as bad acting and a flub, but now she knew it was on purpose - the heroine was talking to her, talking to Rosie. She was letting them both know how good it was.
“This is my favourite part,” Rosie said in the same dull tone as before.
“This is my favourite part…” said June.
The heroine squealed as she pulled down another few inches. June could see the bulge.
“I love to watch the heroine lose,” Rosie droned.
“I love to watch the heroine lose…” June repeated, and the more she watched the more she understood. She did love to see the heroine lose. 
And not just because it meant she got fucked - though that was a big part of it, obviously. Mainly though it was because she loved to see the heroine being put in her place. To see her being punished for thinking she was better than she was. To see her getting what she deserved. 
Yes, that was it.
Tentacles slithered around the heroine’s thighs and arms and neck, holding her tighter, pulling her wider, down deeper. She’d entirely stopped resisting. She’d accepted what was happening to her. She’d realised this was what she’d brought upon herself.
“I deserve this,” the heroine said before a tentacle slid between her lips, muffling anything else she might have felt like saying and causing her eyes to roll back in their sockets.
All that was on screen now was a flat, artless shot on the heroine, held up and stuffed full, squirming and shivering as the tentacles had their way with her. The only sounds coming from the television were soft squelching, stifled groans, and sucking breaths. And it just went on. And on. And the girls watched. They couldn’t look away.
“Girls can’t be heroes,” Rosie and June said in perfect, slack-jawed unison. “Girls are only ever heroines. Heroines always lose. They lose and get what they deserve. They lose and get what’s coming to them.”
One of the tentacles moved towards the screen, raised, and started swaying slowly from side to side. Roise and June followed it mindlessly, slipping even deeper, minds emptying even more.
“Girls lose, girls get what they deserve. Girls lose, girls get what they deserve. Girls lose…” they droned, repeating over and over until they trailed off into wordlessly murmuring.
When June finally noticed anything again it was some other scene. She had no idea what scene, or where in the film it was, or even who she was for a second or two. She blinked. Must have zoned out. A tiny giggle escaped her lips and she shivered.
She turned to look at Rosie, who was still happily watching the screen, big smile on her face.
“This is…this is pretty good…” June said, slowly. Rosie nodded.
“I know…right…?”
Later that night both of them separately had very, very vivid dreams involving tentacles and losing.
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smutteryofvathek · 27 days
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As she dropped to her knees, he saw a flicker. Anyone else would have missed it on her dumb, vacant face, but he was the one who'd made her this way and so he knew what to look out for.
"What's the matter?" He asked.
She looked confused for a moment - he hadn't asked her to kneel to talk to her - but then that flicker came again, longer this time, and she pouted.
"Bad thinks," she said, her voice lisping.
He nodded. He'd suspected as much. The process hadn't been entirely perfect.
"You were having those little thoughts again, weren't you? About the smart girl?" He asked.
She nodded, slowly, afraid it might be the right answer and too stupid to know what the right answer might even be. Her wide eyes fluttered happily shut as he put a hand to her cheek.
"Having those dreams again where you are the smart girl, hmm?"
She nodded, whining quietly, eyes still closed as she pressed her face into his hand. The contact was starting to make her pant softly. She always got excited when he touched her. He'd made sure of that.
"Silly thing. Just dreams. You were never a smart girl. Open your eyes, look," he said and she did as he told her, opening her eyes and then looking where he was pointing. She saw herself in the mirror.
Blonde. Eyes so empty. Huge tits. Kneeling in front of him. The way she'd knelt had made her tiny dress ride up, showing off that panties were only ever worn for special occasions and that wasn't today.
"That's you," he said. "That's always been you. You were never anything else, and you never will be okay sweetie? So don't worry about those silly thoughts, okay? You just worry about what's in front of you."
This he said while turning her back towards him with one hand, and pulling down his flies with the other. When his cock sprang out, she looked a lot less worried.
In his defence, he thought to himself, she hadn't been that smart to start with, really...
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smutteryofvathek · 1 month
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Good kitties are dumb, good kitties are fun,
Good kitties purr and never let themselves cum.
Good kitties edge all night and all day,
Good kitties meow and melt their silly old thoughts away.
Good kitties are happy to be brainless pets,
Good kitties give in, and don't get upset.
So be a good kitty, you're better this way,
Start rotting your brain without further delay.
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smutteryofvathek · 1 month
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Open Door Policy
A longer variation based on this caption.
One of the new girls in the office is having trouble fitting in. She is shown some of the other places that might fit her better.
-
Mr Smith was typing out an email. He didn’t really want to be, but he had to be.
He was very grateful when someone knocked - ever-so-gently - on the door to his office.
One of the new girls. Lisa, he was reasonably certain her name was. All the new girls looked very similar, but then again that was what the uniform policy was for. Once they put on the skirt and heels, once they had their makeup done the way the guidelines instructed, a lot of what might have made them stand out was that much harder to notice.
They went through a lot of new girls, and it never paid to get too attached.
“Ah, Lisa, yes? Come in,” he said, attention returning to his screen. From the corner of his eye he saw her walk in, shutting the door behind her and coming to stand in front of his desk.
There was a seat in front of his desk, but he hadn’t said she could sit in it. She remained standing, head down, hands clasped together in front of her except for the time it took to try (ineffectually) to tug her skirt a little lower. She waited for him to finish.
Once he had, he looked up at her, fingers lacing on top of the desk.
“Is there a problem?” He asked.
Lisa - definitely Lisa, or if not she was Lisa now, not having bothered to correct him - chewed her lip a moment, clearly very nervous, and then said:
“I’m having trouble, sir.”
“With what?” He asked.
“With… with the… edging mandate, sir.”
The edging mandate. All of the girls in the office were required, as per the terms of their contract, to spend fifteen minutes of every other hour in the office (or at home, for those rare few allowed to work from home) edging. That was the mandate. The company had been very open with them about this, had made it very clear it was non-negotiable, and had then even been so generous as to provide private rooms in the office for the purpose.
Of course, Lisa was not the first girl to have trouble with it. Not that Mr Smith was going to tell her that. Better not to mention it and let her think she was.
“I see. You are still fulfilling it, I hope?” He asked, and Lisa’s eyes widened briefly.
“Yes sir,” she said quickly. Not doing so would have been against the contract, and she knew better. She needed this. He nodded.
“And when did you have to do it last?”
“J-just now, sir. It’s why I came to talk to you. I d-don’t think I can keep doing it.”
Mr Smith was quiet. He didn’t need to be quiet for as long as he was, but he wanted to see her squirm a little bit. She did, legs clenched together. He could tell she’d only just finished.
At length, when he felt she’d had enough, he said:
“How long have you been working here now, Lisa?”
“A month and a half, sir.”
“A month and a half. Most girls adapt inside of a week and never complain, but not you. What does that tell me, Lisa?”
She knew there were no good answers, but had to answer anyway.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“It tells me you are not serious about your work, this job, or your commitment to the company. It tells me that you are selfish, and unwilling to make minor personal sacrifices. That isn’t the sort of girl we thought we were taking on.”
Lisa could see where this line might be going.
“N-no sir! No! It’s not like that! Really! It’s just - it’s hard! I d-don’t know if I can keep going. And I know that - that c-cumming on company time is against the rules but I keep getting so close and I don’t…”
She trailed off, acutely aware of the very appraising look she was getting and also of the heat rising in her cheeks. It was always so hard to think straight after edging, especially around him afterwards. Shutting her mouth, she stared down at her feet.
“There are other roles available,” Mr Smith said. Lisa looked up.
“Other roles?”
“Hmm. Ones you may find more suitable.”
“L-like what?”
He looked at her a second longer and then stood up and started heading for the door.
“Follow me.”
Mr Smith did not bother to check if Lisa was following. Leaving his office he headed around and across, passing a handful of the other new girls who all obligingly got out of his way. He quickly reached his destination - another office. He knocked on the door.
“Enter,” said a voice from within, and so that’s what Mr Smith did. The man behind the desk inside looked up. 
“Smith,” he said.
“Rogers. Do you have - ah yes, there she is. Lisa, come in here.”
Lisa - only just catching up, her heels having slowed her down - cautiously entered the office. She didn’t know Mr Rogers. Mr Smith looked to see that Lisa was doing as she was told. She was, of course.
“There you go,” he then said, pointing. It wasn’t until Lisa had moved around to stand beside him that she saw what it was he was pointing at. 
A girl. On all fours.
Other than the collar around her neck, the girl was completely naked. Attached to the collar was a not-particularly-long length of silver chain, which Mr Rogers was holding. He gave it the slightest tug and the girl crawled up right beside his feet and knelt there, hands behind her back, chest pushed out.
Lisa watched this, open-mouthed.
It wasn’t any of that that had really got under Lisa’s skin though - even if it did give her butterflies and remind her of how desperately, desperately needy she was. What really got under her skin was the look of complete and utter contentment on the girl’s face. She wasn’t pretending, wasn’t acting. She was very, very obviously the happiest she’d been in her life. 
And then Lisa realised she recognised her.
“That’s - that’s Michelle. She started when I did. Mr Smith nodded.
“Yes. She expressed an opinion that the work we had her doing was beneath her. Mentioned something about her education. It was decided this would be a better fit for her. There was a settling-in period, but I’d say this doesn’t look beneath her, hmm?”
Lisa hadn’t been able to take her eyes away, so had been watching as Mr Rogers had reached down to start idly stroking Michelle’s head, causing the kneeling girl to coo happily and nuzzle against his hand.
“Does this seem more like something you feel you could do?” Mr Smith asked.
“I-I-I-” Lisa stammered, brain popping. Michelle had started getting rather heated from the attention she was getting and had started panting, and her chest pushed out the way it was Lisa was finding it very distracting to watch.
Would it be so bad…?
“N-no sir,” she said, finally managing to look away just before she started panting herself. Mr Smith was grinning at her, and she jolted when his hand came to rest on the small of her back.
“Didn’t think so. Let’s see another, hmm?”
Fighting the urge to look back, Lisa followed Mr Smith out again. This time he went to the lifts, going up to a floor Lisa hadn’t even been to before, partly because she’d never had any reason to, but mostly because she knew she wasn’t allowed to.
“This floor is for management only,” Mr Smith said as he continued to lead her along. “And contains things for the benefit and enjoyment of management. Specifically I am here to show you these.”
He opened a door onto another office. A smaller, barer one. Less someone’s specific office, more a rotating space for use as-needed. Lisa couldn’t see why he would show her this. The desk looked a bit odd, though. Bigger than it needed to be.
“I don’t understand, sir,” she said.
“These rooms require a special position. It is a stress-relief position. That is to say, it is a position in which those in the position relieve stress. Understand?”
“No sir. Sorry sir.”
“You’ll see.”
Mr Smith took a step in and, reaching down, opened up what turned out to be a very, very small door built into the back of the desk. There was a space inside. And a few other things Lisa couldn’t immediately see.
“Empty. We’ll try the next one,” Mr Smith said. They went next door into an identical room where Mr Smith again opened up the tiny door on the back of the desk. This time the space inside was not empty. Lisa saw the rear a girl wearing the exact same clothes as she was, braced inside.
“Ah, this one’s occupied,” Mr Smith said, nodding in satisfaction before reaching in to hike the girl’s skirt out of the way for no other reason than he could. He then went around the other side of the desk and sat down.
Lisa stayed where she was.
“The role of this girl is to relieve stress. The stress of management. Say I needed to do something but found myself in the wrong frame of mind. I would simply come up here, sit like so, and…”
There was a quiet zipping sound and Mr Smith moved his chair forward a little. From inside the desk came a muffled groan. With the little door left open, what the girl was doing was obvious. Lisa could hear it.
Mr Smith snapped his fingers and she tore her eyes away.
“Yes sir?”
“The edging mandate is the least the company feels it can ask of you, Lisa. It is a minor adjustment to your lifestyle to ensure the proper sort of professional mindset we require of you. Stick to it, and before too long you’ll barely remember not having always done it. You’ll be exactly the sort of girl we want to have around here.”
Which was to say, needy, docile, and compliant. Useful qualities.
“I’ll try, sir,” Lisa said. Mr Smith raised an eyebrow.
“Try? Do you think you will continue to have a problem, Lisa?” He asked.
Lisa’s eyes flicked down against the wiggling rear end of the girl in the desk.
“No sir!” She squeaked.
“I hope not. If you do, feel free to talk to me again. I’m sure I can find some way to accommodate you,” he said, then checking his watch. “I think it would be a good idea if you squeezed in an extra fifteen minutes now, just to be on the safe side. Don’t you?”
“Yes sir!”
“I thought so. Off you go. And do remember that cumming on company time is theft, Lisa.”
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