“I mean,” he whispers, in your ear, “I’m sure this is exactly what you wanted to happen, right?” He grunts as he pistons his cock into and out of your hole. He’d been kind enough to use lube, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. That didn’t stop you from wincing through the burning pain as your ring was stretched to the limit around his obscene girth.
“Surely, you knew what was going to happen when you went after my girl,” he says, his lips thinning, the corners twisting upward in a savage, self-satisfied smirk. “I get it,” he says, “You’re the new guy on campus. But everyone knows you don’t mess with Ben. You don’t go after Ben’s girl, you don’t flirt with Ben’s girl, and most importantly, you don’t get to trick Ben’s girl into fucking you.”
You whine. You whimper. You moan. You protest. You didn’t do anything like that. He is just misunderstanding the situation. Your words are muffled, and ultimately, whatever your story is, it’s irrelevant. Ben thinks that you disobeyed his cardinal rule. Ben thinks that you tried to go after his girl. And so Ben has decided to bring you to justice.
“That’s right, you twisted little fag,” he says, right in your ear as he pummels your hole with all his might. His words drip with venom. They are slick as oil. “Dumb little bitch going after what’s mine,” he says. He laughs quietly, watches as your eyes glaze over, his words sinking into your skull and bouncing around over and over and over again.
Dumb little bitch. Dumb little bitch. Dumb little bitch. He fucked you so hard and so fast that you could feel your brain rattling around in your head. You could feel your thoughts, your memories, your personality getting dislodged and turned to mush. Your thoughts slowed, then came to a halt. You whimpered, moaning as the fuck suddenly started feeling good.
“That’s right,” Ben says, “I don’t deal in used pussies, but this new one I’m coring into your ass, I think, is something that I’m going to enjoy for a while.” He grunts, his hips slapping against yours as he pushes his cock as deep as it would go. “You’d like that, won’t you, you stupid little bitch?” he says. You nod, desperately bucking his hips as the only thought remaining in your head is how much you want him to breed you. “Say what you are, and maybe I’ll think about fucking my cum into you.”
And if you want to follow my captions, shenanigans and such on the journey to becoming the dumbfuck himbo pup I was meant to be, then follow me at @DumPupEcho
J AIME CETTE HISTOIRE DU PETIT AMI QUI EST MIS EN ESCLAVAGE PAR SON BEAU PERE
Real and true slave ownership becomes life’s greatest luxury when the slave owner adopts the attitude that they have possession of LIVESTOCK that they can literally make use of in any ways that suit their needs, satisfy their desires, or serve their purposes.
c ‘est un it une possession rien de plus
son Propriétaire peut l’utiliser à n’importe quoi un it est adaptable et modifiable
Brandon’s parents decided to give him a slave for his irthday, one that was suitable for him to take to college with him. Although they did not totally approve of man on man sex, they were concerned that at college Brandon might meet predatory women who would try to have sex with him so that they could insist on marriage or threaten to cry “rape” if he refused to agree. So having a slave to work out his sexual needs seemed the least worst choice.
Brandon’s father, a man of the world, also reassured his wife that, after all, the slave would keep Brandon’s clothes neat, do his laundry, do his share of the upkeep of the frat house and so on, so leaving Brandon more time to study. And, he added, all his fellows will have slaves and it’s certainly not considered ‘gay’ to use a slave sexually.
So here we see Brandon evaluating four ppossible presents. Brandon’s father rather enjoyed his visit to the slave dealer to select “something suitable” as it rather reminded him of his own college days, and had four slaves sent arounf “on approval” for Brandon to selct one.
