emptea-headed

[emptea-headed]

Gosh it's my first time getting denied and it hurts sooooo much. Like I'm in a constant state of ache and need all day. And I'm so so so wet. But it's making me sooooo horny too. I think I'd do anything for a silly little orgasm at this point but Sir says its not time yet. I've been edging endlessly for hours just to feel something but it keeps making me ache more.

I love your blog. It motivates me to keep edging and keep being the needy little slut Sir wants me to be.

- 🍒

Thank you for the high praise on this side project of mine ��

I will admit, this is really just my little collection of ideas my dom can pick and choose from whenever he wants some help from me 😌

[emptea-headed]

Alright, I see we both feel just about the same, doms and subs, about the different kinds of punishments available to us, so I wont make a split poll, but I simply must know between the top two options-

Consider: Which turns you on the most? Which feels the best? Which yields the best results?

[emptea-headed]

SUBS ONLY PLEASE! DOMS VOTE HERE!

DO NOT VOTE JUST TO SEE THE RESULTS PLEASE! I hate doing math and the percentages would be messed up if you did 😭

We all know that we arent supposed to like being punished, it’s a lesson after all. A reminder.

But…

[emptea-headed]

DOMS ONLY PLEASE! GOOD SUBS VOTE HERE!

DO NOT VOTE JUST TO SEE THE RESULTS PLEASE! I hate doing math and the percentages would be messed up if you did 😭

I know we all enjoy a little punishment. Being a sadomasochist, believe me I understand both sides of this coin.

But…

[emptea-headed]

Locked away. You never bought into all that hypnosis stuff. You thought it was just stage magicians and weirdos with pocket watches. Then you met him, and yeah, okay, maybe you were wrong. It started innocent enough, just little tricks to melt the day’s stress away after work. His voice was smooth, and it would sink into your head, and suddenly your shoulders weren’t so tight, your brain wasn’t buzzing with deadlines. But you’re not dumb — well, not yet — and you noticed how it started creeping into the bedroom. First, it was just sexy little suggestions, like how wet you’d get when he whispered your name. Then it got deeper, wilder, and before you know it, you were hooked.

His latest game? The "thought locker." That’s what he calls it, anyway. Says it’s to keep you from getting weighed down by life's obligations. You know, bills, errands, all that noise. He guides you down, tells you to picture the smart parts of you, the bits that overthink and worry, all getting shoved into a shiny little box in the back of your head. Click goes the lock, and poof, they’re gone. You’re left feeling all floaty and giggly, like your brain’s just a big, bouncy bubble of horny. The catch? That box doesn’t open until Master cums. His rules, his game. And lately, he’s been playing dirty.

It’s been days. Maybe three? You’re losing track because counting is getting fuzzy, and Master hasn’t cum yet. He’s edging you both, but it’s hitting you harder. Every time he holds back, that locker stays shut, and your head gets emptier. Your thoughts aren’t about work anymore. They’re about his cock, his hands, the way his breath feels against your neck. You’re turning into this needy, wiggly little mess. You’re starting to talk in this high pitched, bubbly squeak, all “pretty please, Master” and “I’ll be so good!” It’s humiliating, but that just makes you wetter. Even so, some responsible parts of you are still floating around in that empty head, frantic to make him cum so you can snap back to normal. After all, you don’t want to be this drooly mess forever, right?

Yesterday, you tried the subtle route (well, subtle for you at least). Slipped into this tiny pink thong and a crop top that barely counts as clothes, bouncing around the apartment like some slutty schoolgirl. You “accidentally” dropped stuff in front of him, bending over slow, ass up, giggling like an idiot. He just smirked, adjusted himself, and kept scrolling on his phone. Didn’t even touch you. Asshole. So today, you’re desperate. You’re on your knees by the couch, nuzzling his thigh, pawing at his jeans like a kitten in heat. “Master, pleeeease,” you whine, lips pouty, eyes big and glassy. “I need it so bad, I’ll do anything!” Your voice is all sugar now, dripping with slutty little trills. You’re not even sure what “it” is anymore — his cock, his cum, your brain, whatever — just something.

He looks down at you, “anything, huh?” he says, unzipping just enough to tease you. You’re drooling already, practically humping the air, your hands fumbling to get closer. You’re not thinking straight, honestly, you’re barely thinking at all. The locker’s got everything sharp and sensible locked tight, and what’s left is this horny, ditzy puddle of a girl who’d do anything for a taste. You start licking at him through his jeans, sloppy and eager, moaning like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had. “Mmm, so yummy, Master!” you chirp, and you mean it. Your brain is too fizzed out to care how pathetic you sound.

But he’s still holding back. He grabs your hair, pulls you off just as you’re getting into it, and laughs. “Not yet, princess. I like you like this.” And oh god, that stings so good. You’re leaking through your panties now, thighs sticky, and you can feel yourself slipping further. Words are getting harder. Big ones like ‘con-se-quence-es’ or ‘dig-ni-ty’ aren't worth the effort. Too many syllables. All that’s left is “cock” and “please” and “now.” You’re grinding against his leg, babbling nonsense, “Master’s so mean, so hot, need need need” and he’s just watching, letting you come undone.

You climb onto his lap, straddling him, your skirt flipped up so he can see how soaked you are. “Look, Master, I’m all drippy for you!” you plead, wiggling your hips, trying to grind down on him. Your hands are everywhere. On his chest, his hair, clawing at his belt like a dumb little pet. You know you'll burst if he doesn’t give in soon. But he grabs your wrists, pins them behind you, and leans in close. “You’re not getting it yet,” he whispers, and you whimper, because you can feel him hard against you, but he’s still not letting go. It's been days of this, and you’re a wreck.

A few more days go by, and you catch yourself in the mirror — flushed cheeks and dazed eyes, drool on your chin, and you love it. Maybe it's better to just be a giggling, cock drunk doll, humping his leg forever. To keep pushing, keep teasing, keep begging, but never having. Maybe that’s all your bubbly little brain knows how to do now. “Master, pleaseeee, cum for me, I’ll be good, I’ll - I’ll -” You don’t even finish the sentence. Too dumb, too desperate, too gone.

[emptea-headed]

making a sub repeat "i don't want to cum" over and over to let you know they're getting close, and to help reinforce to themselves that they dont in fact need to cum at all

[emptea-headed]

"I'll be good!!"

"You'll be obedient. *I'll* decide when you're being good."

[emptea-headed]

being dominant about consent

“you will tell me if something makes you uncomfortable.”

“can I touch you here, sweetheart?”

“would you like me to think for you for a bit, smart girl?”

“i will always take care of you. you can put your trust in me.”

“tell me your color, or i will stop.”

“tell me with words, or i will stop”

[emptea-headed]

Day 11: Game

The longer you play, the less you can think - a board game filled with triggers (This was such a dumb idea but I would 100% play this with friends if given the opportunity)

[emptea-headed]

A background hypno subliminal file for all my aspiring edge sluts.

Good Girls Rub Good Girls Edge Good Girls Don't Cum

Inspired by the Better Bimbo Brainwashing project.

[emptea-headed]

What being stuck in a lamp does to a genie 😩 by gingerlemxn

[emptea-headed]

remember: if it feels good, it is good! you're not getting worse if you feel better, right? right! so do it more!

[emptea-headed]

what's the term for the kink where you get off on being forced to admit stuff. where you don't like to talk about your embarrassing secrets unless someone is condescendingly teasing you about it and they're getting sadistic pleasure from your discomfort and they have you backed into a corner and you know they're not going to let you know peace unless you spill your guts to them. i get so insanely horny for that. but like. i would never fucking admit that though. you could not torture that information out of me

[emptea-headed]

💖

[emptea-headed]

edging is so nice.

why would you ever want to cum and make it harder for you to touch yourself when you could touch yourself for ever and ever and ever??

why would you wanna squirt everywhere, clean it up, and move on? wouldnt you rather be wet and horny and slutty all the time??

[emptea-headed]

"I'm gona masturbate real quick..." *edges for 3 hours*

[emptea-headed]

Using a condom instead of breeding you raw as a punishment.