“I asked you if you like my dick. I think you do. But I want you to say it,” the Alpha stud cock said, in that same cool, authoritative tone. Another chain of psychological bondage coiled itself around your brain with every word and every moment that passed. You still didn’t fully realize the extent of your bondage. Your mind still scrambled for ways to get you out of the mess you’d gotten yourself into.
You were destined to be in bondage to an Alpha male.
Believe Me, cock slut, I understand why you’d resist, despite the perverted things you do to yourself and think about in private. I understand that nascent cum dumpsters like you are often desperate to maintain the delusion that if you only look but never touch, you aren’t really the insatiable faggots you portray in your fantasies. But the truth is, if you were not a beta male destined to serve Alpha cock, if you weren’t already wearing a psychological slave collar, placed there by your voyeuristic cock lust, you would have never ended up in that situation. At the very least, you might have pushed right past that beautiful, dominant, chocolate colossus standing in front of you and made your escape. But you didn’t. You cringed with slutty shame before him, still covering your unimpressive but throbbing cock with your hands. You see, you had long been collared, but you were destined to one day meet someone who recognized that fact, and decided to attach a leash.
You took a breath and tried to gather your thoughts. Maybe semi-honesty would allow you to continue to think of yourself as simply a heterosexual with slightly unconventional masturbation habits.
“Look . . . okay. I may have taken a peek. I mean, come on, you must be used to that by now, walking around all your life looking like you do, and having that . . . between your legs. People are going to–to, uh, notice. Sometimes. Innocent curiosity. That’s all.” You tried to will your voice not to shake with marginal success, but couldn’t control your trembling hands, cupped over your small penis.
“I know you were staring at it, faggot. That’s not what I asked you. I asked you if you liked it.”
The bottomless black of his eyes bore into you, and you opened your mouth to speak, but in spite of being surrounded by steam, your tongue was as dry as a desert. You brought your lips together and swallowed with an audible click.
“Move your hands.”
“Uh . . . huh?” You stalled for time pathetically by pretending you hadn’t heard the order, but because you were taken off guard you didn’t have the presence of mind to anticipate him reaching forward with one quick motion and sweeping those hands aside, revealing five inches of irrefutable evidence standing straight out like a peg.
He smirked, and stepped closer to you, placing both hands on your shoulders. You tried to avoid his eyes by looking down, only to bring that intimidating piece of man-meat back into view, now slowly jerking and swelling to life. You knees weakened, being so close to the object of such long-repressed desires, so it didn’t take much of his considerable strength to coerce you down onto them.
Face to face with it, the clean, musky scent of his masculinity mixed with that of deodorant soap filling your nostrils, you were mesmerized immediately, and you couldn’t have stopped the moan that escaped your lips if you tried. Your mouth pussy, parched just moments ago, suddenly filled with spit. One of his hands moved from your shoulder to the top of your head, gently but firmly pulling it back by your hair so that you had no other choice but to look up into his stern but bemused face. The other hand wrapped around his half-hard cock, picked it up, and began lazily slapping it between your eyes. You moaned again, both beseeching him to spare you the last shred of your illusions, but at the same time to decimate them completely by drenching and filling you with every drop of his cum.
“I figured seeing it up close might help you answer. Now say it. Do you like my dick?”
With another moan, you tried to reply by tilting your head back even further and positioning yourself to take it into your mouth, but clearly the ways of leash-holding when keeping a slave in bondage were not new to him. He kept his hold on your hair, and moved his hips to the side slightly, bringing your feverish dreams out of range. “Tell me how much you fucking love it, and I’ll give you a taste.”
With that, all that remained of your resolve crumbled into depraved, humiliated starvation. His big balls tightened and relaxed as he laid his growing erection back across your face, pulsing with every expansion. You felt like the whole world could hear and you no longer cared when you cried out passionately with tears of longing and defeat glazing your eyes:
“I love your big beautiful black cock, Sir! I love it so much! Please let me make you cum!”
He chuckled softly.
“Good boy.”
Hee hee! Yes, I’m taking My time to dish out the dirty details, fuck sluts. You deserve to be teased.
xx
Goddess Rachel, Voyeur for Beta Bottom Bondage!
1-800-356-6169
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