Obsidian

Dumb dogs don’t get to use words. Whimper if you understand. Bark if you want it worse.

You keep coming back here like you have a choice. We both know you don’t. Just another dumb mutt who needs to be told what to do.

I don’t need your name. I just need you to shut the fuck up and take what I’m giving you.

Innocent little bunnies like you always end up in the same place. On your knees, shaking, pretending you didn’t ask for this.

You really thought you could handle this? Look at you. Already falling apart and I haven’t even started.

Come here, pup. I want you stripped, collared, and kneeling with your forehead on my boot before you even think about speaking. Look at the way your cock twitches the second the leather clicks shut around your throat — that pathetic little betrayal that proves you were never meant to be human. You were built for this: tongue out, eyes glassy, mind melting into nothing but obedience and need. I love watching the last scraps of dignity drain from your face when I tug the leash and force your mouth where it belongs. No resistance, no pride, just wet, eager submission as your owner uses you like the brainless animal you’ve become. You don’t cum for pleasure anymore. You cum because good dogs get rewards when they’ve been properly broken and remade.