Inversion Conversion

Pretty. Beautiful in fact. Not a lot going on upstairs, even before the programming.

Once I got his attention, he was easy to seduce; the promise of a blow job, even from someone my age, is hard to turn down when you're young, hung, and constantly horny.

What he didn't count on was the complete lack of control he'd have over the situation once we got started. I devoured him. And as predicted, he was putty in my hands ... and mouth, responding instinctively to authority, confidence, and experience with obedience and respect. I'm certain it wasn't the first blow job he'd had, but it will be the first one he remembers.

I worked his body and beautiful cock better than anyone likely had before, judging by the delightful noises he made and the amount of cum I drained from his balls. There was no hesitation in taking what I wanted, no "checking in" to see how he was doing, no asking for permission - not even a lot of instruction or correction. The fact was, he didn't need it. His mind couldn't catch up with what was happening to his body. He just loved the attention and the pleasure, as most pretty boys do.

I began working on his mind almost immediately - what there is of it.

He lives in the moment because he lacks the intelligence and imagination to contemplate much beyond that. Video games, sports, social media, and working out. That's pretty much his life. Oh, and sex. Lots and lots of sex. I can easily milk three loads out of him a night and he'll still be rock-hard again in the morning. Ah, youth. I love the taste of his cum. It's marvelously thick, creamy, and abundant.

I keep him well fed and entertained when he's at my house. Spoiling him is easy; he wants for so little. It's actually rather sad. The problem with pretty boys is they can go brain dead quite suddenly and without warning. Take the programming too deep and the next thing you know you're looking in their eyes and there's nothing there. So I let him have his "life" if it stimulates him, and will continue to enjoy the use of his body until I tire of it.

"Show me your biceps, baby." He smiles when I snap his photo. He thinks it's for sentimental reasons but it's actually so I can track his development. "The size is almost there but you need more definition. I want you to lower the weight and double the reps. Lift your shirt."

His smile fades a little. I can see I've hurt his feelings but his cock is still hard. Good. He just needs a mental alignment. He's falling in love with me, as they always do.

He lifts his shirt. I love his hairy stomach and resist the urge to touch him. He's still on the thick side but I think he looks adorable with the weight. I keep that to myself.

"No food today."

"Yes, Sir." His cock actually jumps at the obvious rebuke. He's still holding his shirt up when I walk over to him and spread his legs with my hands. I grope him through his loose shorts and his breath hitches. He has a beautiful cock - long and meaty.

"At least you have a big dick, baby. That's something." I stare in his dark brown eyes.

"Yes, Daddy." He's such a boy.

I step out of my pants and underwear. I kneel between his beefy thighs and pull his dick out. His body goes tense in anticipation. I lick up the long shaft to the leaking tip and run my tongue lewdly over the broad top. He shivers as I take him in my mouth to the root, opening my throat and burying my nose in his hairy bush. I tickle his heavy balls and give a few more lunges before standing abruptly and straddling him. I lower myself onto his dick and moan as the thick head stretches my dry, tight hole. It hurts wonderfully.

He looks up at me in pure adoration and worship, his mouth slightly agape as he struggles to stay still. He knows this is not about his pleasure but mine. "What a sweet boy you are," I say as I lower myself further. Once I'm finally seated, I run my hands over his chest and twists his large nipples. He winces and shudders; I can feel his cock throbbing inside me.

I smile at him and nod my head. "You want to stay pretty for me, right baby? You're going to do better - work harder, right?"

"Yes! Yes, Daddy!"

I lean down to gently kiss his lips and then I start fucking myself on him, hitting my prostate hard with each bounce. I never leave his eyes. I squeeze tightly around him. He's loosing his grip and his mind at the same time. I can see it all over his face - that desperate, pained look that begs me for release.

It doesn't take me long to cum. I splatter his face and stomach as I finish off. Panting, I lower myself one final time and hold still. Slowly, I push the cum on his face into his open mouth with my fingers. Our eyes are locked and I feel as though I'm seeing into his very soul.

"Cum for me, baby."

With a loud, anguished groan his body vibrates and shakes as he explodes inside me without thrusting or movement. I can feel the warmth of his thick load as his cock continues to spasm and shoot and clench tightly to keep it all inside me. I stroke his bearded jaw.

"Good boy!" He looks so innocent and youthful; I just want to eat him up. "Now go shower and meet me in my office. No clothes. Since you won't be eating today you can be Daddy's cock warmer while I work. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

I don't think that's entirely true but I let it slide. He's a big man and it's a tight fit to fold him up under my desk. But after a few minutes he'll be floating in sub space and be just what I need him to be: quiet and forgettable. No sucking. Just a warm hole for my limp cock as I work the hours away.

Your job is to lay around and look pretty.

Working from home has its benefits.

I may or may not touch you. I may or may not speak to you. But you're to stay within my eyesight for the entire day. If you need something, raise your hand. Otherwise, you're to stay quiet. And under no circumstances are you to touch yourself, even to take a piss. If I look at you I expect your eyes to be on me at all times.

There will be times when I'm on a call that I'll motion for you to come close so I can fondle and molest you. I may have you kneel down next to my desk so I can lick and chew on your nipples. Or I may have you stand still next to me while I absentmindedly run my fingers up and down your hairy thighs. I may just want to lick on you and taste you.

Between calls I may want your mouth on me. Or I may see how much cum I can pack inside you before the workday ends. I may eat your pussy out while milking you from behind. I may claim your mouth with mine.

Whatever I do, it will not be enough; I've created an unquenchable fire in you for my attention, my seed, my abuse. You're just another pretty object for me - an acquisition that I will likely soon tire of. So when you're not with me I suggest you up your workout and strive to make yourself more visually pleasing to me. Because pretty objects are a dime a dozen. Real men are much rarer commodities. Count your blessing that one such man finds you appealing and takes pleasure in using you.

alpha Inversion

You've traveled a good distance to give yourself to me. You stand naked in your hotel room, your ample cock hanging limply between your legs as you clear your mind and focus on what's ahead. As with most things in your full and successful life, you've planned and executed this with methodical care and resolve.

You followed my instructions perfectly.

"After you check in, the first thing I want you to do is undress. Message me a few pics and then shower. Use the soap and shampoo I asked you to buy and pay good attention to your hole; I want you squeaky clean inside and out."

I am your salvation - the man who sees you as you are and calls you by your true name.

By all external appearances I should be your submissive. I am nowhere near your equal when it comes to physique or the stereotypical traits that most associate with the Alpha archetype. You are beautiful. But the potential I saw in you was to satisfy my pleasure - not yours. I saw a body I wanted to molest, objectify, and consume.

My words over the past month have resonated so deeply in your psyche that nothing else matters - not money, time, work, or prior obligations. You need what I alone can give you.

You've taken time off work during a busy week and reserved an expensive hotel suite during peak travel season, all so I can have you.

I was pleased to see you waiting for me as instructed: on your knees facing the door, head bowed, hands behind your back. My god, you were breathtakingly beautiful and so much thicker and larger than i'd dared hope. When I gently lifted your chin, your eyes meet mine like a guided missile. I couldn't help but smile at the unflinching submission, respect, and vulnerability I saw on your face.

You're used to being worshipped for your body. What you're not used to is feeling detached from the experience, as though it's completely irrelevant whether you're enjoy it or not, because in fact, it's not relevant at all. You're here for me. Any pleasure I give you is a means to an end; I do it for myself.

For the next several hours I take my time exploring your perfect body with my hands, fingers, mouth, and tongue while staying fully clothed. You are not allowed to speak. I know you're an intelligent, well-spoken man - and while that it is stimulating, right now I'm only interested in you as a sexualized object.

I maneuver you into various positions - standing, bending over, and laid out on the bed. I spend an especially long time on your tight, hairy hole, spreading your beefy cheeks and eating you so voraciously that you start to tremble and struggle to stifle your moans.

However, what starts out as pleasurable begins to feel invasive and dehumanizing, momentarily shaking your confidence and resolve. And yet you've never been harder, as evidenced by your throbbing cock in my hand.

The hair across your chest becomes matted from my licking, sucking, biting, and chewing.

I position you on the bed and gently tap your legs, indicating that I want you to raise them and expose your hole. You understand immediately and roll your weight onto your broad shoulders. Your precum drips onto your muscled stomach. Your pupils are blown. I sink two fingers into your cunt and twist. You take them easily. I am not surprised. I continue to push in a third. You're beautifully quiet. I like that. You take it like a man.

The look of incredulity on his face when he sees the hood makes my cock hard. He's not happy and I can tell he's holding his tongue. He huffs indignantly as I pull it down over his neatly quaffed hair. The black latex is a tight fit. I silently congratulate myself for not going for the obvious "meat-head" pun, although in this case it would certainly be fitting.

"You much too big," I state dryly as I stroke his bicep. "Not my taste at all." He tenses as I gently grab his wrist and begin securing him to the bedpost - raising one arm above his head and then the other.

"I mean, I suppose your pecs are nice enough ..." I run my hand over his smooth chest, stopping to flick and twist a nipple between my fingers, although there's not much to grab.

"Fuck you," he spits, his voice shaking and unsure. I suppose my critique of his body is the final insult.

"Not with this little dick you won't." I run my hand over the slight bulge in his speedos. He twists against the rope in a ridiculous display of anger. "It's a little late to be showing a spine. But the ease with which your delicate sensibilities are offended is duly noted."

Straddling his chest, I rest my full weight on top of him. I patiently work a crude strap-on dildo past his clenched teeth until the base is pressed against his thin lips. He struggles as I fasten the straps around his head. "Better. You're even less appealing when you speak."

Despite his seething anger, his body responds instinctively to my touch. And when I slip my lubed fingers into his hole he goes rigid. "Seems like all those squats have tightened your hole too. Interesting."

I stroke his prostate while relentlessly working his dick and I don't let up until I've milked two successive loads out of him. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat and he screams against the gag as I torture the sensitive head.

Good boy. Keep at it.

Yes, Sir.

I know he probably needs more from me, but I won't coddle him. In fact, if he doesn't lose the weight and tone up sooner I may have to rethink my use of him.

I don't tell him this, but the truth is I think he's adorable as-is. I love his big brown puppy eyes and his sexy dad-bod. But I want to see him show some real dedication and commitment to giving me the very best. True - he gives exceptional head and I always feel well cared for and esteemed by the way he gently and reverently sucks and swallows every drop.

Fucking him is pretty amazing as well. His hole is surprisingly tight for a fag his age and his thick ass feels great in my hands. Plus, it's a nice canvas for a good spanking or belt whipping.

When you're alone with him and there's no one present to cast judgment, you feel contentment. Your alpha gently undresses you and your body comes alive beneath his exploratory, claiming touch. Unlike everyone else, he alone sees you for what you are. With him, you are free to express the submissiveness you keep hidden beneath the carefully constructed exterior you labor to create for the benefit of others. For years, your body has betrayed you and kept you for getting what you need. But your age and size was never a hindrance for him. It was a draw. You are everything he is not, physically and in more significant ways. All he sees is a body to molest and use. The fact that you're falling in love with him only makes your objectification all the sweeter.

You feel a deep sense of purpose in the giving of your body for His pleasure and consumption. Although he's made no critique of your body, everything you do is in order to be more pleasing to Him. He strokes you possessively, devouring you with his mouth and hands. He doesn't ask for permission. He simply takes what is His.

"You're a beautiful man."

You meditate on the words I spoke to you not a week ago while I held you from behind and slowly worked my cum deeper inside you with slow, methodical, leisurely thrusts. You can almost feel the warmth of my breath against the back of your ear and your pulse quickens.

The ride over feels too long. The quiet interlude provides an unwelcome opportunity to unpack what you're about to do - or more accurately, what you're about to submit to. It's your second visit out to see me, and yet you're no less nervous or ashamed than you were when I first touched you.

When you finally arrive at my door you've never looked more beautiful and appealing to me. The conflicted, anguished look on your face makes my cock swell. You're embarrassed to be back so soon and struggle to maintain composure while holding my gaze like a confident, strong man.

You are a man. I will never let you forget it, nor do I want you to lose touch with it. Because how could I emasculate and humiliate you if you did? Sodomizing you was just the beginning.

Your appearance is all I'm attracted to. Your body - and the selfless giving of it to me - is all I want from you. And yet I'm going to strip you of the part I like the most - the luxuriant mat of hair that dusts over your body from the neck down.

I remember you from Junior High, the image of you in the boy's locker room burned forever in my mind. You were an early bloomer and a stark contrast to the rest of us. And much like then, I am still significantly smoother, softer, and less muscular than you.

And yet years later it wasn't my ass that got fucked in my living room.

The difference in our appearance is perhaps the least significant attribute that differentiates us, although to most it is probably the more glaring. You're a hard-working man. A man's man who comes by his physique naturally.

I told you what I would want if you came back, so I'm pleased when you undress without having to be told to do so. By shaving you, I intend to shake your reliance on such a ridiculous trope of masculinity and thus deprive you of your misplaced security and identity. You will be laid bare and exposed before me, literally and psychologically.

I run my hand possessively across your hairy chest as you stand perfectly still. Your lean, muscular body feels good beneath the pads of my fingers. I kiss your neck and run my tongue across your closed lips. I can feel the tension in your body but your impressive cock is leaking precum as it juts out from the profuse bush of wiry hair surrounding it.

Things go just as I said they would in my many explicit messages to you over the past week. I tie your wrists tightly and toss the rope up over the exposed beam in the ceiling, pulling it taunt until you're balancing on your toes. I secure the rope and watch you struggle to stop swaying. The muscles in your calves and thighs flex beautifully and I want to lick over your stretched torso.

And so I do.

You can barely suppress a moan as I molest your body once again before reaching for the water basin and supplies. I enjoy the process of lathering your body and particularly like how dark the hair looks when wet and plastered against your skin. Slowly, methodically, and quietly, I shave you one area at a time, saving your crotch and balls for last.

When I stroke up your bare thigh and lightly graze the flesh beneath your balls, you groan loudly. It sounds anguished and you start to moan.

Grabbing your cock, I shift my attention to your crotch, the last area of body hair left. I savor the way your cock and balls feel in my wet hands. Occasionally, I stroke your throbbing shaft just to elicit those beautiful sounds from you and to feel you shudder and convulse in my grip. But I never give you enough enduring friction to cum. Not yet.

I step back and view my handiwork. I left your beard as promised, but otherwise you are shorn smooth as a baby's behind, including between your beautiful ass cheeks. Your face burns red beneath my scrutiny.

Rubbing you down and greasing you up with oil is perhaps my favorite part because it feels so invasive. Your body slides away from me and I chuckle as I try to maintain a hold on you. Soon you're glistening.

I bring a full length mirror and stand it in front of you so you can see what i see. Coming up behind you, I start to stroke your hairless cock in my greased hand. I'm rough and calloused. I find your eyes in the mirror. "Cum for me."

Your cock erupts and lathers the glass with ropes of thick cum. Your body convulses and twists in my grip as I continue to milk you until the mirror is streaked in a flood of cum.

"You're such a good boy for me!" With your cock still in one hand, I turn your face with the other and kiss you. This time, your mouth opens to my invading tongue. I love how your beard feels against my face, even though I'm quickly chapped from our passionate moment of intimacy.

I release you and step away. You're panting and dazed, your head dropping weakly against your shorn chest with your eyes closed. I let you hang there in silence for a few moments before speaking.

"I'd love to fuck that tight ass once more. But ... now that you're so slippery and greasy ... and hanging so lovely for me ... I'm wondering how you'd look impaled on something ... significantly thicker. Are you familiar with fisting?"

You don't respond, although I notice you opening your eyes and staring at the floor. "No, of course you wouldn't be. Not you. Although ... your cock seems to indicate that perhaps you are." You're getting hard again and more importantly, You haven't used your safe word.

Your body pleases me. I enjoy the feel of it beneath my fingers and against my lips. But eventually I get board, and that's when I want to put your body to work.

It's so invigorating to control a man like you - a man twice my size who could easily resist if he chose but instead submits like an eager puppy. It's comical when we're out together in public to know that everyone assumes we're just friends. Because a big, muscular, masculine man like you would surely never be with an average looking guy like me. And if someone does think we're together they always defer to you as the one in charge. If only they could see how truly beautiful you are when you take my fist up your sweet ass.

The first time I fisted you I nearly came in my pants. My hands are small compared to yours, but even still, I knew you were struggling to take it. But you were so determined that I just had to make you suffer. Hearing you moan against the gag and feeling your muscled body contort in pain as you squeezed around my wrist was so fucking hot. I loved hurting you.

And then when I leaned over to suck and chew on your nipples I thought you'd lose your mind. Oh, you came so wonderfully then as I pumped my fist inside you! I took my time afterwards lapping it up off your chiseled abs and enjoyed teasing your sensitive cock as you hung off my wrist like a puppet.

You do have a pretty cock. So much bigger than mine. I love ridding it while you're tied up and blindfolded. Love to milk you until it hurts. The funny thing is, the more I use, degrade, and objectify you the harder it gets.

You're hard in every selfie you send me. It's the anticipation of being used again and the gratitude you feel for my ability to see you for what you are.

i've been writing on Tumblr for more years than i can remember. Started as Mega Daddy Issues back when tumblr was a legit platform for personal expression. My hope was always that i would meet someone through it that would be strong enough to wrestle control from my grip and help me find peace and contentment, purpose and meaning. After all these years, i was preparing to meet such a Man face to face. From all accounts, He seemed an experienced and amazing Man and i felt extremely fortunate that He had chosen me. He was very excited to "take my kink virginity," as He put it.

i was anxious, excited, fearful, nervous, aroused, numb, ... all rolled together. i had worries: "What if i'm not able to please Him? What if i discover that i really don't want all this - that it's best left in the realm of fantasy? What if i lose myself in this - lose my identity and become some other person? What if i get a sexually transmitted disease? What if He isn't attracted to me?"

Add onto it all the below-the-surface feelings of guilty and shame that will always be there and i was kind of a mess.

i don't imagine any of my current followers were with me back in the MDI days but i felt i owed it to "my blog" to journal this momentous step. i have no idea what it will mean for the future of this blog. i've always thought my skill as a writer is rooted in my repression and lack of actual experience. And now, i'm pretty sure i was right. i don't know that i'll ever be able to write about the fantasy and dream as i did before - not because the experience was so wonderful but because it wasn't. The Red Pill is a bitch.

The Graduation Gift

A Paranormal Omegaverse Story

"So?? Did you get the one you wanted, bro?"

"Hell, yes! Best goddamn graduation present ever!"

"No shit! So your Dad came through after all, even after your run-in with the police??! You lucky bastard!"

"Fuck the police; that beta wanted it."

"So how's it ride?"

"Tight as fuck and made for abuse. The first time out I was gentle with it - wanted to break it in easy. But now, I ride that motherfucker full throttle and it can take a hell of a beating!"

"So I guess you're done fuckin' around with betas, huh?"

"Oh fuck, dude; you can't imagine the difference. The Omega Placement contract swore to Dad that it would go into heat upon delivery. They take 'em off suppressants as soon as you purchase one so they're ripe by the time you get 'em. Dude, as soon as it smelled me it started leaking slick like a fucking whore."

"Aw man, you're killing me!"

"So much better than the used up ones at the omega houses. Fresh, unclaimed, never fucked. I wasn't to thrilled about bonding with it, but I have to admit it's made a difference; it's insatiable. Needs my knot like all the fucking time!"

"Did you get a collar and leash for it, like you said you were going to?"

"Dad offered but I wanted to pick the collar out myself. His taste is little to politically correct for me. I went with a choker model: nice and tight so it never forgets its place, and a long black-leather leash that can double as a whip."

"What's it like otherwise?"

"It's much prettier in person than on the online auction site to. But it talks too much. I locked my knot behind its teeth the other day to shut it up. Seemed to do the trick."

"Damn, man! That's brutal!"

"Yeah, they don't let you do that at the omega houses for a reason. But it sure as fucked learned its lesson. Now, it doesn't talk unless its spoken to."

"I hope to get my own someday but they're so fucking expensive. Don't suppose you'd ever lend yours out??"

Absolute Possession.

You are one sadistic son of a bitch. Just when i start to feel like myself again, when i can feel the ground firmly beneath my feet once more, You come back into my life like a tornado, destroying my sanity with just a touch. 

i am too stunned to shut the door and too afraid to protest when You force Your way inside. You look devilish handsome as always and i hate myself for feeling a much to familiar pang of desire. But the shock and fear of seeing You again has triggered an automatic shut-down. You quickly narrow the distance between us, shutting the door behind You before grabbing me by the neck just hard enough to remind me of how my body sings when You make me hurt for You. You smell like an Alpha should and i know i’m already defeated.

“Did you think I would just let you go, foolish boy? That I’d be fine with you whoring your pussy out for anyone but me? That’s right ... I know all about the ‘boyfriend,’ you weak-minded little bitch. Settling down, are we? Does he take you on dates and treat you nice? Bet he doesn’t know what a pain whore you are, or how beautifully your cunt takes my big dick.”

Your warm breath against my skin ignites my senses and i can’t stop the shiver that runs through my entire body as You hold me close. God help me; i want to turn my head and kiss Your lips but i can’t move.

“What’s the boyfriend going to think when he sees how nicely your pale skin colors when I give you what you need - what you were made for?”

i whimper and start to cry. When You suddenly lick the tears off my face with a lewd, bold swath of Your tongue, i shudder and moan. 

“I’ve not paid enough attention to you, have I, sweetheart. Silly me. I thought you’d be a good boy and behave yourself. It’s my fault for forgetting what a good actor you are. I thought I’d broken you of all your dreams of independence and freedom. Well, I won’t make that mistake again.”

You lead me by the wrist to the couch and push me down until i’m seated. i feel numb and give no resistance. You sit next to me, your knee touching my leg. As you continue speaking to me, i stare off straight ahead trying to escape inside my mind, but it’s useless.

“Now where’s your phone, baby? Oh, I see it. You know I should punish you for not answering quickly and properly, but I think we’re beyond that now, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

Standing up, you fetch my phone and enter in the code i’d forgot to change when i reset all the other passwords to my bank accounts, which You made me give you. i realize suddenly that must have been what triggered Your visit. 

“Tsk, tsk. Not very thorough.” You smile patronizingly as the phone unlocks and you scroll through my phonebook. “So we’re going to text your boss right now and let him know you won’t be in this week.” i know i should try to run for it but i can’t move. And the truth is, i don’t really want to. “There. Short and sweet. And now, the boyfriend.” You smirk at something and then toss the phone aside. “That should do it.”

You sit back down, this time nearly on top of me, and grab me by the chin. “That should give you enough time to heal, baby boy. See how generous and thoughtful I am? Now, while you’re still conscious, I want you to apologize to my dick for wrapping those pretty lips around another cock. You always look so pretty when your throat is stuffed full of my dick and you can’t breath. Honestly, you don’t deserve my dick, considering what a naughty little slut you’ve been. But I know what you need, don’t I.”

A Peverse Pleasure Afforded Few

I love it when he flinches. I love it that he never feels completely at ease around me, never sure if he’s going to get a gentle pat or a bitch-slap. He doesn’t see me as someone half his age anymore, not since I nearly put him in the hospital when he wouldn’t give me the password to his bank account. God, I still remember the way he crumbled from the inside out during that beating, begging and crying for mercy. If he had only shut up I might have stopped sooner. But it was just too hot watching him lose his mind to the pain and fear as reality sank in that I own him and everything he has. 

He thought I was playing around. Just getting my rocks off. He was wrong and grossly underestimated my intelligence, which really pissed me off. It was fucking amazing to see the transformation from a controlling, cock-hungry old faggot to a genuinely worshipful, respectful, broken submissive. 

I made him stand next to me completely naked as I transferred everything in his account over to mine. I got so fucking hard seeing the hopelessness in his eyes as I took all his life’s plans and security away with the click of a button. It was the perfect time to collar him and he accepted it on his knees with tears in his eyes - so afraid and broken. So humbled. I’m pretty sure I even saw shame as I locked the collar tightly in place. It was just too hot a scene not to fuck him.

I wedged my fingers beneath my boy’s collar to cut off his air while I raped him. I was like a Man possessed. The gurgling sounds he made went straight to my dick and much too soon I was cumming bucket-loads inside him. Several hard slaps afterwards pushed him over the edge and he sobbed uncontrollably. It was fucking beautiful. I ordered him to lick the sweat off my balls and the rest of my body and to shut the fuck up or I’d really give him something to cry about. 

I’m not entirely a Monster, so when I was satisfied he’d covered every sweaty spot with his mouth and tongue I got comfortable on the couch, spread my legs, and pulled him to my chest so he could nurse on my pecs while I soothed him with gentle strokes and encouragement. My nipples were rock-hard and getting sore by the time he finally calmed down. 

“That’s it. Such a good boy for Daddy. This is the sum total of your pitiful life - to be at ground zero with me, starting over, but now with purpose and meaning. Nothing you’ve done before or who you were before matters now. Whatever value your life has left will be siphoned to propel me onward and upward, until you’re just an empty husk worth nothing to no one.”

He shuddered. And something in me snapped. I guess it was a primal instinct, but without warning or explanation I pushed him off me and moved him to the floor onto his hands and knees. Kicking his legs apart, I crouched down behind him and shoved two dry fingers past the red, puffy entrance of his well-used hole. He lowered his head and moaned but held relatively still as I twisted and worked his hole open for more. 

My cum helped lessen his discomfort, but after I had three fingers wedged inside him it didn’t matter anymore. Fisting was a first for both of us, so we had only our instincts to guide us. Watching his faggot cunt expand around my hand and hearing the inhuman sounds he made as I violated him so profoundly sent me soaring into an Alpha headspace that made me feel fucking omnipotent. Seeing him hang helplessly on my wrist like a puppet made my cock rock-hard again. 

Twisting and pulling cruelly at his hole elicited loud protests of pain and pleasure that resulted in him pissing the floor and yelling, “Master! Master!” over and over again like a holy chant.