dummigilry

[dummigilry]

my history

Toooo

It's just a kink

I said, years ago when i first started edging myself dumb and staring into pretty spirals

It's just a kink

I say as i start dressing more and more feminine, wearing skirts and make up and basking in the compliments

It's just a kink

As i willingly offer myself up for use, tongue out and drooling at the words good girl

It's just a kink

But i giggle and misspell words every day now

It's just a kink

But everyone is so much nicer to me now

It's just a kink

But i still sometimes try to run away from it

It's just a kink

But no matter how much time passes i always end up back here, ready to serve and edge myself dumb

It's just a kink

But i still pour myself into being useful, i still crave others pleasure and i still drip at the idea of being an object for use

It's just a kink

But every time i come back i sink deeper and deeper

It's just a kink

But i drip the second i put my collar on, wishing someone would leash me and keep me down

It's just a kink

But people in my every day life like me more now, like me docile and giggly and with more cleavage

It was never just a kink, it's who i am🎀

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mooooo

The thing about magical items is they’re so easy to abuse.

Marcella was learning that quickly. She’d first bought the pen in an antique store, owned it for years and thought nothing of it.

It was during a house party, when she drank too much and passed out on her couch, that one of her friends used it to write dumb slut on her face.

Mean spirited, but hardly the end of the world…until Marcella woke up with a blank, glassy look in her eyes.

Her boyfriend thought she might have had a stroke. She was giggling, bouncing her tits, reaching for his crotch…he was on the verge of calling for an ambulance, when, as an afterthought, wiped the writing off her cheek. His thoughtful, caring girlfriend had been replaced by an empty-headed bimbo.

Her pupils returned to normal, hands falling away from groping herself, mouth closing as her usual mindset reasserted itself.

Almost her usual mindset. Neither of them realized it, but the change left a permanent mark in her personality. She was just a little more sexually open, a little slower on the uptake.

It wasn’t long before she discovered the pen could make body changes, too. The first test was big tits, written across her cleavage, in a lust-filled move as she walked up to the bedroom.

Would she have done that before she used the pen, part of her wondered. But at that moment her tits felt too good to care.

Both her and her boyfriend had watched, enraptured, as her growing breasts overflowed her nightgown, stopping only when they snapped one of the shoulder straps.

Big tits took her up to a full double J cup. Trust me, she measured them. Very thoroughly.

Huge tits made her too big for bras. She grew a pair of enormous lap-fillers, just small enough to reach her arms around comfortably.

Gigantic tits she hadn’t tried yet. Maybe for a special occasion…but it was tempting. The old her would never have fantasized about being that big…

Who cared if none of her regular bras fit anymore? They were just slowing her down.

Dumb slut, busty bimbo, pretty toy…words she started to use every weekend. To relieve work stress. Craving that feeling of blissful emptiness, to lose herself in pleasure.

Who cares if she was always wet now? It just made nights even more fun.

Today, Marcella wanted to try something new. Hefting her trusty pen, frowning when she tried to remember the letter order- did the old her remember how to do that?- before clumsily writing Milk Me in large, blocky letters.

The change was immediate. Just like sliding into a warm bath, or maybe dragging her nipples across fabric…

She didn’t hesitate to touch them, feeling her teats thicken and darken between her fingers. Marcella had barely registered her breast growth, gradual as it was over a dozen transformations…but she had never lactated before. The first wet drops on her hands eliciting a pleasurable gasp as sensations coursed through her, an electric tingling starting at the base of her udders and moving quickly to the swollen nipples.

Marcella glanced at the clock. Udders…now that was a word she could try next. And she still had an entire half hour before her boyfriend came home…

Already she was pulling and tugging them, each successive drop of milk larger and creamier, her moans lengthening and becoming deeper.

It wasn’t long before thick splashes of dairy decorated her counters, the brand new cow swaying her hips happily as she uttered her first-

“Mooooooo!”

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heheheh doesn’t sound so bad

You let your massive udders swing under you, still dripping milk steadily.

The pressure. It was all you could think about, your breasts packed to bursting with rich, warm cream.

They simply wouldn’t stop filling up. If you didn’t find a way to stop this, you might grow and leak forever…

B-112, named after the bust measurement of the first unfortunate user, is a very dangerous drug.

In it’s initial form, it’s a clear liquid. But after being gene-locked by a person’s saliva, it turns an off-white. A color you’re very familiar with…

When added to a person’s drink- a poor, flat girl like you, for example- whoever drinks it will start to grow and lactate.

You had felt your glass fall from numb fingers as your nipples hardened. With all the erotica you’ve read, you knew exactly what was happening to you. Staring down, you could see your bust slowly start to cover the view of your feet…

Now, an hour later you might do anything to stop the seemingly endless flow of milk.

Each pinch or squeeze brings only temporary relief, the glands producing more almost immediately.

Every bowl and cup you own are arranged around you, each full to the brim, and you’re currently dripping onto a metal tray, the only container you have left. You’re still growing, the weight increasing minute by minute, inching towards the floor.

The breast binding helped a little, but it's slowly constricting around you. A desperation move that's being overwhelmed by the surging tide of boob.

There’s only one thing that can save you from immobility now. The drug B-112 only deactivates on contact with the same DNA that gene-locked it in the first place.

That means you’ll have to find whoever dosed you and get them in contact with your new chest…either by mouth contact or some other, less savory way.

I know it’ll be hard. But your milk flow isn’t slowing down, and those boobs are edging into the ‘freakish’ territory.

If you still want to live a normal life, you might have to swallow your pride…and let someone else swallow some milk, directly from the source for optimal freshness.

If you’re lucky, they won’t insist you moo for them first…

[dummigilry]

hehehe I dunno

[dummigilry]

yes pls

I need huge udders full of milk

So big and full that strangers grope me all the time. Having such ridiculously huge tits means I’m just a toy to everyone

My nipples would be huge and sensitive at all times from all the pumping I’d have to do and men would twist and tug painfully on my nipples for their fun

[dummigilry]

moooooo

To Milk

As the days grew shorter, and the nights grew longer: your desire became impossible to ignore.

You wanted to be a Cow: a beautiful bovine pet.

You had only ever admitted it to a handful of people— a few anonymous strangers on kink forums and two of your closest non-judgmental friends.

You wanted to be seen as a pet first and a person second. Your handler could focus on all of those complicated, messy people problems for you.

All you had to do was Moo, feel good, Moo, stop thinking, Moo, jiggle, Moo, giggle, Moo, play around, Moo, touch yourself, Moo, be touched, Moo, look pretty, Moo, feel good.

It really wasn’t that hard.

You knew you were a Good Cow.

You just needed everyone *else* to know too.

Because if everyone knew how good of a Cow you were, they wouldn’t bother you with silly people stuff.

You dreamed of ways you could let the world know.

The *best* dreams were the ones where your body became more Bovine for you and the world to see.

Your tits would become udders

From your spine, your ass would grow a tail

Your nipples would become teats

From your forehead, you’d grow little horns

Your hands and feet would become hooves

And if you were lucky, your lower belly would grow into yet another udder

Every person would see you were different

Every person would see you were a Pretty Cow

Your special person would give you a Cowbell Collar

Your special person would become your Handler

They would adopt you as their own Pretty Pet Cow

They would play with you and tease you

And you would be milked and pleasured

You would be pleasured and milked

Leaving your people-worries behind you

Sending your people-thoughts far-away

To make room for Cow-Thoughts and Cow-Pleasures

To be milked, to be fucked, to milk, to tease, to milk, to laugh, to milk, to be loved, to milk, and to graze, to milk, to sleep, to milk, and to bathe, to milk, to kiss, to milk, and to Moo, to milk, and to Moo-Moo, to milk, and to Moo-Moo-Moo~

[dummigilry]

moooooo

Hucow is an interesting kink when you think about it, with a lot of crossovers, a lot of fixations, specifically about the female form, whether it's the fixation on being bred, being kept captive, the physical pleasure of being teased, the submissive urge or just the attraction of being docile, of not having to think, of living for the purpose of service, now I know all the good girls reading this with a Hucow kink are probably starting to drool a little, because the thing with kinks is they are very personal, everyone indulges differently, whether your idea of being a Hucow is being locked in a stock and used by your owner for milking, for pleasure, for breeding. But for me personally it's the eyes, probably because hypnosis is more my kink, but those wide deep blank eyes, nothing going on behind those eyes, staring out at the world, content, relaxed, not needing to think beyond your purpose, that's comforting isn't it? Being relaxed, open, letting someone else take care of you, make your desicions, it would be so nice wouldn't it? To not have to think about rent cheques or paydays, to just live, to just serve a purpose, it would be so much easier wouldn't it? It's OK dear, no ones watching, you can relax, you can indulge the fantasy for a little while, I wonder dear, when you relax, when you think about your fantasy, can you feel the pumps? The pressure pulling at your tits? Can you feel your body responding? Do you ever see the man that mounts you? The owner of the cock that breeds you? It's OK dear, just relax, indulge for a little while, it would be so much easier if you didn't gave to think wouldn't it? No judgement, no embarrassment, just a loving caring owner to milk you, pet you, breed you, no complex thoughts, no long words, just a happy empty Hucow, it's OK dear, relax and indulge your fantasy, sink down into the dream, sink down to your knees, it's so much more natural for you isn't it? Let your tits hang free, ready to be groped, measured and milked, so much simpler like this isn't it? No need to resist, no need to think, just an empty, docile, happy, horny, Hucow, waiting to be touched, milked and bred, so relaxed now, so much happier in your natural state.

That's it girl moo for me

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heheheh 🤭🤭

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yessss

Just a vacant stare and a massive pair of fake tits is all you need to start getting invited to parties.

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You like me touching your boobs, cutie? No, no, don't talk, just nod. Pretty toys like you don't need to use words.

Your nipples are so sensitive. You like it when I play with them like this, don't you? Pinching and pulling at them while your jaw goes slack. Let your tongue loll out of your mouth, there's a good toy.

Are you drooling, baby? Such a pretty little toy, letting yourself drip onto your breasts. You look so cute like this, so sweet and brainless. All nice and pliant for me. How do you feel?

No, no, don't speak. You don't need to think or talk, just moan and drool for me. There's a good little toy.

[dummigilry]

someone should do this to me

It's a simple, easy game. Count the number of times those pendulous udders of yours are slapped, in thirty seconds, and you go free.

Get it wrong, grow one cup size, and start again.

It’s getting harder and harder, isn’t it? You’re gritting your teeth and bracing. What happened to miss “I can win at anything?”

Those udders must be so sensitive. And that’s right, I said udders. You really passed ‘tits’ about three cup sizes ago. What’s next? Maybe ‘mammary mountains’?

Another round, then. Trying to keep your eyes closed? Focusing? Ah, there’s the lip bite. You’ll have to stand up higher, they’re starting to slap the top of the couch.

And your guess? …

I’m sorry, but you’re wrong again. What’s going through that head? Is the fabric on the couch too rough? Maybe a finger brushed a nipple? You almost moaned there at the end.

It’s not fair? Well, you did agree to the terms. Maybe you thought you could go up one or two sizes and drop out?

Tell you what, I’ll cut you a deal. We’ll go double or nothing. You can skip the growth for this round, but if you lose the next one, you’ll start lactating.

Oh, now that’s an interesting expression.

It’s your only chance not to get too big? Well, I suppose you agree then. Whatever you want to believe.

Ok then, you’ll really want to focus for this, so much is on the line!

Get ready…aaaand….timer starts!

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[dummigilry]

Yesss

Blank is better.

Make yourself better.

[dummigilry]

Domestic denial and degradation are so much fun.

Things like having a cute little thing in my lap while we watch a movie. Edging them repeatedly until they can’t focus, then using numbing cream and fucking them with a dildo. Just stretching them out for the sake of doing it, because I find it entertaining.

Eating dinner at the table while they desperately hump my boot, even though they’ll never cum from it.

Edging them before going out together, promising them if they can recap our date, they can cum. Making sure their brain is cloudy and desperate the whole time, ruining any hopes of them remembering the date clearly.

They’ll learn that they edge for my pleasure and amusement. Why should that entertainment stop when we aren’t actively playing?

[dummigilry]

ohhhh to be this dumb

"2... and 1, up, up, up." My hypnotist said, shaking me gently as I slowly woke from trance. I sucked in a deep breath as my eyes fluttered open, trying to get my bearings after going so deep.

My hypnotist caught my gaze and smiled, and I grinned blearily back, unable to resist the spark of happiness I felt at pleasing him. "How are you feeling?" He asked, gently stroking my face.

Good, I wanted to say. Really, really good.

But it was like my mouth wasn't connected to my body. "Cock." I said, then frowned in confusion. I tried again. "Cock. Cock. Cock!"

My hypnotist grinned even as my body betrayed me. "Oh dear," he said in false concern, even as his eyes took on a puckish twinkle. "It seems as though you only have one thing on your mind."

I shook my head emphatically, but it was no use, my tongue wouldn't cooperate, my lips could only form one work. "Cock." I protested.

"You aren't only thinking of cock?" He asked, delighting in his own performed confusion.

I nodded. "Cock."

He raised a brow. "So you are only thinking about cock?"

I huffed in frustration as he laughed at my predicament, and crossed my arms over my naked breasts (when had I taken my clothes off? The thought floats out of my head almost as soon as it arrives. It doesn't matter anyway.).

I shook my head again and glared at him. My hypnotist's expression become contemplative, and goosebumps suddenly pebbled my skin under his scrutiny.

"Actually," he said, voice taking on that deep, lulling tone that had taken me under hundreds of times. "The more you say the word 'cock' the less you'll be able to think of anything else until 'cock' is the only thing left in your empty little brain." My mouth fell open a little as my mind was caught in the undertow of his words. "Now, my silly little bimbo, what are you thinking about right now?"

"Cock," I replied, unthinkingly, then snapped my mouth shut when I realized my mistake. The damage had already been done. As soon as the word left my mouth, my mind felt a little tingly, my thoughts came a little slower, and my mouth watered as a brief image of getting on my knees and sucking Master's cock played behind my eyes. Oh god. That sounded so nice. So fun. So hot. My eyes fluttered.

"Good girl," he said with a grin. "But I can see you still thinking. Why don't I take care of that, hmm?" He cupped my face, turning my gaze up to meet his. "What does my good girl want to think about?"

I tried to hold back, to stop myself, but all of a sudden his thumb was gliding over my lips, parting them, and it was like once my mouth was open I couldn't help but speak. "Cock."

The effect was even more powerful the second time. A sweet, pink cotton candy cloud was creeping into my brain and I could practically feel my thoughts being overtaken, one by one. It felt so good. For a moment I couldn't remember why I was even fighting this. My gaze went a little hazy as I stared up into his eyes, and a leaned into his touch. I wanted to please him. I wanted his cock. In my mouth, in my pussy, in my ass. Wherever he wanted to put it. I needed it so badly.

I didn't even realize my mouth had fallen even further open, until he put his thumb against my tongue and I instinctively sealed my lips around it, sucking it gently.

Master frowned in mock concern as he took his finger back and watched as I moved to chase it. "Are you sure, sweetheart? You don't have anything else you want to think about? No smart girl thoughts you want to share with me?"

I blinked, a little confused as my fuzzy brain tied to catch up. "Cock?"

My expression smoothed out as the pink cloud took more of my mind. I couldn't remember why I was confused earlier. I couldn't remember why I was fighting this. It was hard to think bad thoughts when my head felt this nice and empty. I giggled.

"Cock," I said again because it felt soooo good to say. I was so silly. Cock was the best word there was. I didn't need any other words. This one let me ask for the one thing I really wanted. "Cock, cock, cock."

Master put my hands on my tits and it turned out, cock was even more fun to say while I bounced them. "Cock, cock, cock, cock, cock!"

Master laughed, and that made me feel so good that I giggled too. "That's it, princess, no more thoughts. You're a simple, little toy. You have simple, little thoughts."

I nodded in vapid agreement, as he guided me gently to my knees. When he brought his cock out, my entire world narrowed until all I saw, all I cared about, all I wanted was his cock. I stuck out my tongue and leaned foward, eyes wide and pleading.

"Hkock?" I asked, nearly choking on the word with my tongue out and drooling. I rested my head on his thigh and looked up at him with all the adoration and desperation I felt. "Hkock?"

When he slid his cock past my lips, my brain emptied completely. No thoughts at all. But that was okay. All that needed to be in my head was cock. And Master was taking care of that.

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Hal