stoned-r4peslut

[stoned-r4peslut]

Forget scrolling my tumblr during sex, make me cockwarm you while scrolling your likes so you can see what kinks you can corrupt me into liking based on when my pussy clenches

[stoned-r4peslut]

thinking some thoughts about anal, but specifically about having my pretty little cunt duct taped open and slapped repeatedly until it’s all swollen and puffy, while only my ass gets trained to stretch around their cock 😵‍💫

[stoned-r4peslut]

I can respect that you don’t like anal. You’ll learn to love it or you’ll learn to endure it. But again, it’s okay that you don’t like it.

[stoned-r4peslut]

just force me to spread my legs and show everybody my pussy in a public space and encourage everyone to make fun of me for getting wet abt it

[stoned-r4peslut]

GIVE ME some RISKY HAND PLACEMENT under the table.

[stoned-r4peslut]

Dressing you in your cutest outfit before treating you like a urinal for the rest of the day

[stoned-r4peslut]

Breaking you into nothing but a cum obsessed Stockholm Syndrome experiment and loving you through it all

[stoned-r4peslut]

She’s probably sad, dp her with your friend

[stoned-r4peslut]

Pissing down your throat before bed so you can feel it in your tummy when you're falling asleep

[stoned-r4peslut]

Only icky little princesses press keep reading

Be a good girl for me and suck your thumb the next time you go pee

[stoned-r4peslut]

The Poison she needed (Corruption, piss, abuse, degradation)

Before him, she would have been disgusted at the thought of even serving a man.

Her world had been orderly once, a grid of precision. Her desk at the firm was a testament: files stacked, notes color-coded, her life a bulwark against chaos. She was the woman who commanded respect, her sharp gaze silencing any man who dared patronize her. Then he walked in—her senior with a careless grin and eyes that saw too much. Their fling was supposed to be a fleeting thrill: stolen kisses in the parking garage, a drunken fumble after a client dinner. Innocent, she told herself. A momentary lapse.

“You’re so fucking pristine,” he’d said that first night, his lips brushing her ear over cheap wine, his tone mocking and molten. “Ever think about getting dirty?” She’d rolled her eyes, dismissing him, but the question festered in her mind.

It began with whispers in the office. “Stay late tonight,” he’d say, his tone light but laced with something heavier. She complied, telling herself it was for the project, not him. Then came bolder requests. “Wear that red dress tomorrow. No bra.” She’d scoffed, but the next morning, she stood before her mirror, heart pounding as she left the panties in her drawer. His nod of approval in the break room sent a shiver through her, one she couldn’t name as anger or desire.

The office turned into his playground. Notes slipped into her files, disguised as work: Flash me when you pass my desk. She’d flush, furious, but her fingers would graze her blouse, a brief exposure as she walked by, his chuckle a leash tightening around her will. “Filthy little slut,” he’d whisper at lunch, his breath hot against her neck, and she’d hate how her thighs clenched, how her defiance crumbled.

Their innocent first night was a distant memory now, replaced by a darker dance. After hours, he’d drag her into empty rooms, his hands bruising, his words venomous. “You’re just a needy whore, aren’t you?” he’d snarl, bending her over a desk, her gasps swallowed by the hum of the AC. The vulgarity stung, but her body answered, arching into him, craving the degradation as much as she loathed it. “My dirty fucktoy,” he’d growl, and she’d bite her lip bloody, unable to deny the thrill of being unmade.

His tasks grew crueler, each one a chisel to her pride. A text at midnight: Meet me in the garage. Nothing under your coat. She’d go, trembling, the cold concrete biting her bare feet, telling herself she could walk away. But she didn’t. He’d push her against his car, his fingers cruel. “Look at you, my pathetic cumdump,” he’d taunt, her moans betraying her pride as his fingers played her like a fiddle. Each act stripped her further, eroding her dignity like sand under a tide.

The office was a labyrinth of her shame. He’d summon her, making her stand silent as he “reviewed” her work, his hand sliding up her skirt under the desk. “Dumb little cocksleeve,” he’d murmur, loud enough for her ears alone, and she’d falter mid-sentence in meetings, her colleagues blind to her unraveling. Her reflection in the glass walls was unrecognizable—hair mussed, eyes glassy, a creature molded by his hands.

Then came the night that broke her. He’d called her to his apartment, walking her straight to the balcony. Her body already conditioned to obey. The room was dim, the air thick with his cologne and her fear. “On your knees, pisswhore,” he commanded, his voice a whip. She froze, the word a violation she’d never imagined. “No,” she whispered, her voice frail, but his laugh was merciless. “You’ll do it. You’re too far gone to stop.” He leaned close, his fingers gripping her chin. “You’re nothing but my filthy pet now.”

Her knees buckled, hitting the hardwood, her mind a storm of revulsion and need. She should’ve run, should’ve clung to the woman she’d been, but his presence had a gravity she couldn't avoid. “Beg for it,” he said, his tone cold, expectant. Her throat tightened, tears prickling as she shook her head, a last flicker of defiance. “I… I can’t,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “It’s too much.”

He crouched low, smirking. “You will. If you don't, then say it dummy. Tell me how bad you don't want it. Just like everything else right?” Her breath hitched, her hands trembling in her lap. The shame weighing, crushing her, but beneath it was that dark pulse, the part of her he’d corrupted, craving his approval. “Please…” she whispered, barely audible, her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t make me.”

“Louder,” he snapped, his hand tangling in her hair, yanking her head back. “Beg like the pathetic cumdump you are.” Her sob caught in her throat, but the words choked out. The wrong ones. “Please… I—I want it,” she choked out, her own voice now foreign. “I need you to… to do it. Please, I’m your… your pisswhore.” The words burned, each one a betrayal of her old self. “Use me, please, I’m begging you. Make me yours, I’ll do anything.”

His laughter was cynical, cruelly shredding any remaining dignity. “That’s it,” he said, standing, looming above her. “You’re fucking broken now, aren’t you?” She nodded, tears streaming, her voice a whisper as she repeated, “I’m broken. I’m yours. Please… don’t stop.” He finally pulled out his cock, a momentary pause before the stream hit her—his piss a degrading baptism. She surrendered completely, her sobs mingling with a twisted relief as she crossed the line she’d once deemed unthinkable. The act shattered her final boundary, her whispered gratitude—“Thank you, thank you for making me...this”—echoing in the dim room as she curled into herself, lost to his will.

After, he stroked her hair, his voice soft but triumphant, knowing he had successfully poisoned her. “See? You have no more bounds. Your mine now.” She curled tighter, the weight of her transformation crushing. The woman who’d once scoffed at submission was gone, replaced by a creature who lived for his depravity—crawling, begging, defiled in ways she’d never imagined possible.

Back at the office, she moved like a ghost, her desk a mockery of her old control. His notes still came: Wear the plug today, cumrag. She obeyed, no longer making an effort. In meetings, his hand would graze her thigh, his whisper—“My piss-soaked whore”—making her flinch and burn. She was his tapestry of shame and need, her every thought shaped by his will.

[stoned-r4peslut]

big fan of being described by adjectives that make me feel breakable. tiny, small, delicate, fragile. any of the above

[stoned-r4peslut]

To all the cuntgirls who "don't like the taste of cum" that's the best part ^×^

Watching you feel that slimy load of seed across your tongue and not letting you stop sucking until I hear you gulp it down... It's perfect~

To be disgusted by the taste but knowing your place as my gocks Fleshlight and gulping down my thick cum whenever I spurt it down your throat...it's perfect <3

[stoned-r4peslut]

Blowjobs are lame. If you ever get on your knees Infront of me I'm throatfucking you.

I mean I'm grabbing your head and slamming my hips into you over and over again, my balls filled with the thick flurry of girl spunk slapping against your chin as saliva is shot out in all directions.

All you can muster out are "ghlk ghlk ghlk" as I ram my thick bitchbreaker gock down your throat, I see your eyes start to flutter close and I take out my saliva covered fuckstick to slap you across the face, just enough time to get a breath in before my gock plunges back down your throat~

That's what oral is.

[stoned-r4peslut]

Let me dress you up. Make you look all pretty. You're going to wear this little top, and this skirt, so I have easy access. Don't be embarrassed, now. I know the fabric is thin, silly. How else am I gonna see your nipples get hard when I touch you? Yeah, like they are right now. Good. See, you look good like this. Don't you wanna be good for me? Pretty doll.

[stoned-r4peslut]

Daddy’s little fucking braindead cunt💕

[stoned-r4peslut]

thinking about someone cumming inside me and then fingering me while im still full of his cum, recording the mess he is making on my pussy so i can later post it on here for everyone to see