#worthless

Webcam Model(Nisha_Arohi) is live
LIVE

Any horny daddy or alphas? Sissy that needs to cum?

I’m horny and feeling very submissive, would gladly please any man or woman, . I’m just a worthless little whore looking for verification from my betters.

The thrill of being forced and hurt and brutally raped is too amazing to describe in words. The only

The thrill of being forced and hurt and brutally raped is too amazing to describe in words. The only way I can convey the joy I feel is by slobbering and going limp while a cock is creating a bulge in my throat and throbbing each time the cartilage in my throat runs over the head of his cock as he’s holding me down and using me for nothing but pleasure. It’s like I’m floating in the clouds while I suffocate and orgasm from being hurt and mistreated so roughly ⭐️


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worthless
I’m a guy, but I really hate my body.

I’m a guy, but I really hate my body.


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alternative-pinup:Alternative Pinup girl Pinup girl TwitterI don’t care if you’re too dumb to ge

alternative-pinup:

Alternative Pinup girl

Pinup girl Twitter

I don’t care if you’re too dumb to get the recipe right. I’ll still beat the shit out of you.


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Exhausted from a long night at her job, she still had to make her owner breakfast before she could t

Exhausted from a long night at her job, she still had to make her owner breakfast before she could take a nap…


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dumbbigtittedslut:

Warning: we are now heading into subspace. Please fasten your seat belts and enjoy the ride. Also, if I get any messages saying “um yanno you don’t really have to do this and blah blah equality blah,” so help me, I will decimate you.

I edged all day yesterday.

I did nothing else until I started getting ready for Hubby’s arrival home. I consumed porn until I drowned in my own brain; I went to a dark place that was new, yet familiar. With the help of a few porn blogs and a couple nicely worded phrases, I fully tried to dismantle my will.

Towards the end of my edging time, I felt like I really needed release. It wasn’t the pretend, “(please don’t let me cum,) can I cum?” kind of need. I had been rubbing myself all day and wanted to cum. I decided that I would be bad, cum without permission, and accept the consequences… but I couldn’t do it. It would take me forever to work myself to the brink, and when I got there I would instinctively tear my hand away. I couldn’t have an orgasm the other day when I wanted to, but at the time in the back of my head I believed that I could still, if I really, really wanted to. Now, however, I was starting to realize that wasn’t the case. I was so frustrated with myself. I’ve been training to do this and yet, for a short time, I hated it. Genuinely hated it for the first time ever. I wanted control over my orgasms again.

I was fighting with myself. Did I want to be a person or did I want to be fuck meat? It felt like both were winning. After the nth time of reaching the edge, I pulled the vibrator away. In that split second, I told myself this was mental, not physical. If I really wanted an orgasm, all I had to do was put the vibrator back.

Immediately after that flash of realization, I stabbed my cunt with the vibrator. I was expecting a wave of release, but had none. I felt myself spasm for a moment, but nothing else. Here it was, finally. The trickle down effect I always wanted, at the worst possible time. Even if I physically had an orgasm, without permission, it felt like… Nothing. After it happened, I wasn’t sure it even happened at all.

I sat in silence for awhile and stared at the ceiling. Then I got ready for Hubby to come home. Then I went downstairs to sit in silence again. I had put on a long, colorful dress that flows nicely when I walk. I kept thinking about Ophelia.

Hubby came home late from a stressful day at work. He vented for awhile. My mind was still mush from the day, buzzing and fraying so loudly that I thought it was audible to others, but I had just enough attention span to listen and empathize with him. I had nothing meaningful to contribute to the conversation so I mostly made little agreeable sounds to show him I was listening. He talked with me while I made dinner and we had a few drinks.

It felt like he knew I wasn’t all there, and it made it easier for him to boss me around. If my failed orgasm attempt had taught me anything, it was that I genuinely needed to be led.

Hubby was pleased that I had memorized the hand commands well enough for him to immediately begin implementing them. Throughout the night he used the “fetch,” “kneel,” “sit,” and “wait in another room” commands. I once mistook the “wait in another room” command for “sit,” and Hubby smacked my face three times. I closed my eyes for the first hit, and Hubby told me to open them. I did, and rubbed his calf while I silently absorbed the last two blows.

I never have before (except on pet day), but I asked permission to use the bathroom. He agreed and followed me upstairs. I resigned myself to what I was sure was going to happen.

I sat on the toilet and Hubby unzipped to use the urinal.
“Let’s do some recycling,” he said, and relaxed into my mouth. I hated the taste but told myself it was unacceptable to do anything but swallow all of it. I couldn’t relax on the toilet, however.
“When I said ‘recycling’ I meant that you should piss at the same time, but I guess that was too vague for an idiot. My fault,” he said as he zipped back up. I still couldn’t relax enough to go, and I immediately thought to my frustrated orgasm attempt. I wound up having to run warm water on my hand.

Downstairs, Hubby wanted to fuck. He pulled my tits out, slid up my dress, and moved my ass to the edge of the couch before sliding his dick in to the hilt. I was soaking wet and pleased that I was being an adequate cock-sleeve. He pumped me for awhile and my only thoughts were about how I could make his dick feel better. I squeezed and clenched around him. Eventually he turned me over so I was kneeling, and began to fuck me from behind as he shoved my head in the cushion. I got wetter when I told myself it was because he was tired of looking at the dumb expression on my face. I imagined a bag over my head.

Hubby’s dick was nice and lubed up, and I felt him pressing into my asshole. I had spent a great deal of time edging to painal, and I resigned myself to the fact that I deserved this as penance. Hubby called me a cunt and a fleshlight. Earlier, I had watched an ad that was playing before a porn vid. It was for a self-lubricating, adjustable cock sleeve. I watched the entire thing, how you could change the pressure, what it looked like on the inside, how smooth and inviting the rubbery material was. I pictured it perfectly in my head as Hubby sank into my bowels. I was waiting for the tension and pain, but it was blocked from my mind. Usually Hubby has to struggle to get it in, and even then it’s maybe halfway. Today it was effortless, and I hadn’t even done any anal training. I made myself feel guilty about the fact that I’ve given him such a difficult time with anal, and hung my head as he slid his entire dick in and out of my ass. It stopped too soon. I wanted his cum buried in me, but he had different plans.

He pulled out, turned me around, and then buried himself in my mouth. I gagged, but my arms didn’t raise. I gagged less and less as I pictured my face being as expressionless and lifeless as a blow-up doll, mouth perpetually open for whatever the owner wants to put inside.

When Hubby pulled out, he coated my face and tits. He made a contented sound before reaching for my hair to wipe off his hands and the tip of his dick.
“What do you say?”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t put your tits away, don’t wipe off your gift, and go get me a beer,” he said as he sat down and switched his video game back on. He didn’t have to argue with me for once. I didn’t tease or dance around doing what he asked me to do.

I brought him the beer and sat in silence as the cum dried on my face and tits. When I looked down at it, I pictured one of the towels we use to clean up. I saw cum drying on the green fabric.

I didn’t allow myself to even entertain the idea to put my tits away. They remained out, covered in dried cum, for the rest of the night. I felt ashamed but not embarrassed. I let go of my options until there was only obedience. It was beautiful.

I usually stay awake after Hubby, but I hadn’t gone to sleep with him at the same time in awhile and he had mentioned something in the preceding days about it. We went to bed, but Hubby still wanted me to service him, so he moved my head towards his ass and told me to rim him. The taste was bitter so I was hesitant at first, until Hubby reached around, pressed my face into his ass and told me to do it like I meant it. I ignored the taste and spent awhile making out with his asshole until he decided I was finished. He tossed my pillow down towards me and told me he wanted a footrest.

I fell asleep at the foot of the bed with one of his feet resting on the small of my back, and one on the back of my neck.

It’s been awhile since I felt embarrassed about posting something here, but today I am. Yesterday was a dark, enthralling day. I came face to face with the fact that I truly desire to be broken: broken down, broken open, broken to conform to the will of a man. That desire is something I’ve always known was there but had never actually seen before, like an endangered species in a vast tundra. It was thrilling.

So in the interest of continuing on my journey to achieve shame without embarrassment, I post this all for you.

Xoxo,
Dbts

Great post about DBTS taking another step to completely leaving her old life behind and becoming nothing but a fucktoy.

shortbusslut:Tonight it was thinking about what it would be like to go to sleep on the floor next

shortbusslut:

Tonight it was thinking about what it would be like to go to sleep on the floor next to the Man it served each night. its tried to wrap its mind around it, but it is very hard. this girl loves to be touched. it loves to spoon and to snuggle and to press up against a warm Man, not just in bed but every evening after work and on lazy sundays and before it gets out bed in the morning to get ready for work. it just loves body contact. it makes it a little anxious to think about having very little physical warmth from a Man that it worshiped and served and loved. 

Sometimes a Man will feel like snuggling with his cunt. Other times, he’s kicks the whore out of bed after using it. It’s up to the Man and no one cares how a dumb bitch feels about it.


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manisking:

ownedbyk9master:

womenaremeat:

daddysdumblittlebitch:

I have no rights
I’m not a human being
I am an object for my masters use or any other man above me
I am useless
I am a waste of air
I am a waste of life
I need abuse n name calling
I am only good for my holes
Please treat me like the worthless cunt I am for my sake

She gets it.

a cunt’s affirmation.

This is a great mantra for all of my female followers.  Make sure to say this to yourself at least once a day!

fresh-noise:beth-is-god:avengechesters:sancty:mandycamps:youre-a-lizard-harry:reader thrfresh-noise:beth-is-god:avengechesters:sancty:mandycamps:youre-a-lizard-harry:reader thr

fresh-noise:

beth-is-god:

avengechesters:

sancty:

mandycamps:

youre-a-lizard-harry:

reader throws self out of a window screaming… maybe

why are you a best seller???

this is an actual quote?? WTF

This is nothing compared to her other descriptions.

fresh-noise:
“Or something? OR SOMETHING?!?! When describing the dripping, mellifluous voice of a delectable gentleman, you don’t finish your statement with “OR SOMETHING” because then you sound like a teenage girl writing in her DIARY. Which is what 50 Shades is. Its E.L. James’ DIARY about what she WISHES  would happen to her… you know, aside from the fact that if this DID happen to her, she probably would freak the fuck out and start complaining about how “it hurts” and “stop treating me like a piece of meat” and he’ll be like THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU DERRANGED WOMAN.

Also, if someone’s voice sounded like “dark melted chocolate fudge caramel” (too many food words, btw. you sound like a fat kid fantasizing about cake) I’d say it sounded annoying and sickly sweet. If I heard someone’s vocie, and the only way I could describe it would be “dark melted chocolate fudge caramel” it would be a clogged, nasaly voice, like someone who had just consumed a vast amount of “dark melted chocolate fudge caramel” and lived to tell about it. They would sound fat and slow to me, not smooth and delicious. Now, if someone’s voice was smooth and delicious, I’d say something like:

“His voice caressed my ear like fine satin, it flowed and dripped like honey, sweet and sparklingly golden. When he spoke, I was floating on the clouds of his sweet melody, and I knew that I was completely in his power.”

And never… NEVER… end a description with “…or something” you sound like Kristen FUCKING Stewart. Get your goddamned words straight and come out with what you’re trying to say. —C

I tend to do a little ranting from time to time, but, in this case, my reader already did it for me. Reblogging this because first I laughed, then I found myself nodding in agreement. She’s absolutely right…


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Espacially East-European sluts are having such amazing taste for the cheapest appearance. Reducing tEspacially East-European sluts are having such amazing taste for the cheapest appearance. Reducing tEspacially East-European sluts are having such amazing taste for the cheapest appearance. Reducing tEspacially East-European sluts are having such amazing taste for the cheapest appearance. Reducing t

Espacially East-European sluts are having such amazing taste for the cheapest appearance. Reducing themselves to pieces of fuck meat, you’re allowed to treat whenever however you like.

Post by: Her beloved Lord


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Isn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosIsn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choos

Isn’t it wonderful, when women are spending hours for sports, make-up, styling hairs and choosing the cheapest cloathes and reducing their value to the lowest pieces of fuck meat - just to attract us?

post by: her beloved Lord


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