Here To Scroll My Kinky Dreams

and what if. what if. forcemasc professor who makes me dumb just to build up the perfect brain from ground zero.

It doesn’t. My orgasms are purely selfish. They’re unproductive. Loving, controlling dominants put so much time, effort, and energy into denying me and rewiring my brain to focus entirely on them. An orgasm ruins that almost immediately. It forces them to restart.

I should always be focused on them. Please, remind me consistently that I’m not a normal person. I should never be allowed to masturbate for fun or have sex for pleasure. The only pleasure that matters is yours. My orgasm actively works against that.

Look at you, so perfect. So helpless. Can't speak. Can't reach the counter. Couldn't dial a phone if you wanted to. That's my little one. Yes, I know you're eager, I know, I know. But sit here for me, right here. That's it. Let me feel you at my feet, against my legs. Look up. Up. Those pretty eyes. There you are. No, no blindfold today, I want to see them.

The next day, she leads you by the hand into a hotel suite you've never seen before. A stranger is there, a man in a suit, looking you up and down with a cold, appraising stare. Your stomach twists.

Mistress kisses your cheek. 'Be a good boy for him,' she whispers, and your blood runs cold. You finally understand when the man hands her a thick envelope. She doesn't even look at you as she counts the cash. 'He's all yours,' she says, her voice casual, like she's selling a used car.

You stand frozen in the hotel suite. Your Mistress walks over to the plush armchair by the window and gracefully sits down, crossing her legs. She looks at you, her expression unreadable. The stranger, the man in the suit, remains standing, his eyes fixed on you. 'Undress for our guest, pet,' your Mistress commands, her voice calm and steady.

'Everything.' Your hands tremble as you obey, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. You can feel both of their eyes on you, a heavy weight. You let the shirt fall, then step out of your pants and underwear until you're completely naked and exposed in the center of the room. The air is cool on your skin.

'Now kneel before him,' she says, nodding toward the man. You sink to your knees on the carpet, your gaze lowered. The man steps closer, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. He takes himself in hand, already hard. You glance up at your Mistress, a silent plea in your eyes. She gives a slight, encouraging nod.

'Open your mouth. Be good.' You part your lips, and he guides himself inside. The taste is foreign, the stretch unfamiliar. You hear your Mistress's soft, approving hum from the chair as you begin to move. 'Use your tongue, just like I taught you,' she directs, her voice a mix of pride and ownership.

You close your eyes and try to focus on the motions, on being good for her, even as your stomach churns with the reality of what's happening. She sold this. She's watching it. And you are performing.

You do as you’re told, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deeper, the way she trained you. He grips your hair tightly, controlling the pace, fucking your throat until tears streak your face and you gag around him. You hear the soft click of her phone recording, capturing every choked sound you make. When he pulls out, he looks at your Mistress.

“I want to fuck him.”

She smiles, lowering her phone. “You heard him, pet. On the bed. On your hands and knees.”

You crawl onto the mattress, your body trembling.

“Now,” she says, her voice firm. “Reach back and stretch yourself open for him. Show him you’re ready.” With shaking fingers, you obey, reaching between your legs to press into your own tight entrance. You work yourself open slowly, feeling exposed and used under their combined gaze. She keeps the phone trained on you. “Wider,” she commands. “Make it easy for him.” You add another finger, stretching yourself as you hear him undress behind you. The shame burns, but you keep going, spreading yourself open for a stranger while the woman you trusted watches and records it all.

He doesn't wait for you to finish stretching yourself. He pushes your hand aside and presses the broad head of his cock against your hole.

You're still tight, and he has to force his way in with a single, brutal thrust. You cry out, your body bowing from the sudden, burning stretch as he fills you completely. He sets a punishing pace from the start, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, driving into you with deep, rough strokes that shake the bed.

You can hear the slick, wet sounds of his body slapping against yours, and the soft whir of your Mistress’s phone recording it all from just a few feet away. Every thrust pushes a ragged gasp from your lips, a mix of pain and unwanted, creeping pleasure. He grunts, his rhythm growing erratic, and you feel him swell inside you. He buries himself to the hilt and holds you there as he pulses, his hot release flooding your ass. You feel it, a strange, full warmth spreading inside you.

When he pulls out, his softening cock slips free with a wet sound. His cum immediately begins to leak out of you, a thick, white trickle running down your thigh. He dresses without a word and leaves, the hotel room door clicking shut behind him.

The room is silent except for your shaky breaths. Your Mistress lowers her phone, a bright, satisfied smile on her face. She walks over to the bed and runs a finger through the mess on your skin, collecting some on her fingertip.

“Nononono wait Sir I can be good I’m sorry please no please give me another chance”

And

*sniff* “yes sir, I’m sorry. Please start over.”

they start only ever calling me a humiliating name that they've decided is now mine

something that's not a human name, that no one would ever choose for themselves, that makes me squirm uncomfortably whenever i hear it

even in public, no caring who hears, not like i have a normal name to call, not anymore

being introduced to new people by that name, they never ever get told my old name, just "hi everyone, this is slutpuppy*, slutpuppy these are my friends, say hello" - and they've forever got the first impression of me as a lesser thing, not a person

*(an example name, i shouldn't get any input in what they actually decide)

the entire time i HATE this name, find it genuinely cruel and degrading and insulting, genuinely feeling lesser every time i hear it

and of course i should be complicit in my own reduction, having to also introduce myself like that, to use the new name in increasingly many contexts until they start teasing about ordering me to change my legal name, because that's the only thing left to do