I’m sitting here, my heart pounding, as I watch her. She’s the one in control, always has been. Her words echo in my mind, ‘You may wank for me, pervert.’ It’s a command, not a request. I’m a fucking puppet, and she’s the master pulling my strings. The clock is ticking, ten seconds to cum. Ten fucking seconds to prove my worth to her. It’s humiliating, but I can’t stop. My hand moves faster, driven by her voice, her presence. She’s the one who decides when I can cum, when I can release this pent-up frustration. It’s a power play, and I’m the fucking pawn.
Her Command, My Obligation
Her eyes are on me, piercing through my soul. She knows exactly what she’s doing, how to make me feel like a worthless piece of shit. ‘Eat your slime afterwards,’ she says, her voice dripping with disdain. It’s not just about the act; it’s about the degradation, the reminder of my place. I’m the cuckold, the one who exists to serve her pleasure. My hand is slick, my breath ragged. I’m close, so fucking close. The seconds are ticking away, and I’m racing against the clock, against her command. It’s a fucking race to the finish, and I’m the one who has to cross the line.
The Aftermath of Submission
As I finish, the world spins. I’m left panting, my body trembling. The taste of my own cum is bitter, a reminder of my submission. She watches, her expression unreadable. Did I please her? Did I meet her expectations? These questions haunt me, even as I lick my lips, tasting the evidence of my humiliation. It’s a fucking rollercoaster, this life of a cuckold. One moment, I’m on top of the world, the next, I’m crawling at her feet. But that’s the game, and I’m a willing player. Her whims are my commands, her desires my obligations. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.





