We Always Talk About "whimpering Mark" This And "Sub!Mark" That And It's Great And All But Like

Some upcoming projects!!!!

Sweet Home fandom: Heads up! Hyuk smut is in the making! Will he be submissive or dominant? Depends on what the requester wants!

Your Favorite Martian: Wholesome Benatar smut in mind, Wholesome Puff Puff smut, future projects include a horny Axel, and a posessive Deejay....

Transformers Rescue Bots: WLW Dani Burns content in the future!!!! That'll be my first time making sapphic smut. Graham Burns project ofc cuz I love that man, Kade content for the simps I have spotted, and Charlie for them dilf lovers....

If you have any ideas for these characters, or requests, by all means, inbox is open people!

NOT THE LIGHT YAGAMI GIF, THE FACT THAT I WAS SUCH A SIMP FOR HIM WHEN I WAS 15. OMFG. AND NOT THE ASTERISKS AND TEXT STUTTER PISS OFF GOOFY!😭🫶

"You Keep Your Eyes on Me"

Tag: @gongyoosgf and @cybrasigilism

Salesman x G/N!Reader

18+ Smut, MDNI

Summary: Just a typical Friday night, playing some games with your favorite Salesman...

⚠️Tags/Warnings: Jump straight into action (no buildup), Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, G/N masturbation, Gunplay, filming, bone gag/gagging, edging, denial, praise, dick tapping, dacryphillia, degradation, pet names (doll, baby, puppy), a hint of petplay??? genital slapping (kept vague for G/N), sex toys/hitachi wand, spreader bar mentioned, handcuffs, mutual masturbation (Salesman is jerking it to the sight of you), mutual orgasm, cumshot, aftercare, the Salesman may be catching feelings🤔

Your eyes lazily gaze into the mirror, that soft red light shining back at you as you bit down on the silicone bone even harder. The cool, metal rings bounded by the leather straps leaving its imprints on your cheek. You shake the bar that parter your ankles, keeping your thighs wide open for him.

He is looming over you, with that typical smug smile of his. He extends the pole with the wand attached to it, before pressing it against your swollen sex. You shake violently, feeling the vibrations build up to your release until---

"Ohhh... not so fast. Patience." The Salesman says, pulling the pole away and massaging your shoulder. You growl through the gag and glare at him through the mirror. He cocks an eyebrow and says, "Slow and steady wins the race. Calm down, doll." That smile creeping into his voice before he sighs and settles between your thighs.

You watch with dilated pupils, the chains linking the leather cuffs rattling when you try to reach out and touch him. He steps back and waves the tip of his handgun as he says softly, "Ah, ah, ahh! No touching."

You let out a whine, making him chuckle before stepping closer once again. The room echoes with the jingle of his belt, before he springs out. His tip glistened in the shade of the pink tint the room provided. His precum dripping onto your stomach. He strokes himself slowly, teasing you with every stiff pump his fist made before lining himself up.... only to lightly slap his cock against your tender skin. You moan, resulting in his laughter slipping out of his lips before he pulls back once again...

When he steps to his spot, behind your back, he places his hands on your shoulders and begins to lightly rub them. You tense up at the sudden feeling of his firm, calloused hands gliding against your hot skin, but he hushes you and whispers in your ear, "Go on, doll, touch yourself. Do it for me to watch. Put on a show that I can watch now.... and forever..."

You both shift your gaze to the recorder that was propped onto a stand, facing the mirror. The piercing red light blinked and blended in with the lights that dangled from the ceiling. You knew he was recording, you both agreed to do so. But still... to think he'd be watching this later...

You look up at him, feeling a little self-conscious. The reality of your fantasy was finally settling in... you are being filmed for his pleasure, all while he plans to watch you perform. It seems as though he caught on, and he massages your shoulders more while he speaks softly, "Baby, it's just us. No one will see the video except me, and yourself, if you want to watch. If you want it to stop, then you can shake your handcuffs 3 times, and I'll stop everything. The recording, the scene, everything. Alright? This is just a game. But you always have the option to pause or quit."

You nod, feeling relieved by his reassurance of the safe signal you two settled upon prior to the scene. You go to reach for the wand, when the Salesman pulls it away and says, "I have a different idea for this round. Something challenging, but fun nonetheless. How about, you use your fingers to touch yourself, and you use my gun to get off?"

His hands graze your shoulder, before trailing down your arms only to stop at your nipples. He rubs the buds in circular motions before saying, "And don't worry about a thing. It's completely unloaded." He then takes out the revolver and spins the barrels in front of your eyes.

"See?" He asks, and sure enough, the barrel was completely empty. He circulates his rough fingers around your areola and flicks your nipples, feeling them firm up as an airy moan slips out from his lips. He presses up against your shoulder, his cock becoming more apparent in your face. He tears a package from his pocket and rolls on the rubber onto the gun. He grins and says playfully, "A condom on a gun. That's definitely something new! Huh?"

He hands you his gun, and waits patiently, the smile still plastered on his face. You hold the weapon, feeling it's cold hard weight against the palm of your hand that juxtaposed the warm, soft, slippery rubber that had been applied onto it. Carefully, you guided the gun between your thighs, brushing against your skin while the handle caused your handcuffs to clatter and jingle against each other. You fumbles with it, steel slapping steel, yet your skin wasn't slapping against his.

The Salesman sees this, and smiles. His fist slowly stroking himself at the sight of you struggling to simply insert the gun. He chuckles, and moans in satisfaction at your issue. He looks at you through the reflective glass and says, "Are you struggling, doll? Can't even do something as simple as this?" He grabs the gun from you and continues, "It's okay, I was expecting that. Allow me to do all of the work. You just sit there and look pretty."

You watch with wide eyes as he drags the cool steel against your skin. Your thighs flinch, but his hand pins one down, forcing you open. The veins on his hand pulse when he grips your thigh, slathering his precum on your skin. The Salesman bends over to whisper in your ear, "Very good. You're doing so well for me. Now, keep those legs open." With that, he carefully slips the tip of the weapon into your sex. You feel the cold rubber contrasting your heat, making your hole clutch around the gun.

He sees this through the mirror how your hole pulses from the adrenaline of the revolver. You leak with arousal and the sight of it alone made him want to finish right then and there. But this man had a disturbing amount of patience. He harshly slaps his rough palm against your sensitive spot, which caused you to yelp like a puppy through the bone gag. He laughs at your position and says, "Poor puppy, so sensitive and all I did was put it in. Keep biting that bone. It's the only way you'll ever learn to be quiet."

His words sent a rush of pleasure down your body, and when you were close, his warm demeanor drops immediately. He slaps your parts again, harder this time. He clutches your jaw and hisses out, "Did I say you could cum? Hm? No. I didn't. If you cum without my permission, you will be disqualified. If you're disqualified.... then..."

You mutter against the silicone bone that stayed propped in your mouth. The Salesman chuckles and leans his ear against your lips, his disheveled black hair tickling your nose as he says, "Sorry? Come again? I can't quite hear you."

You mutter again, making him fight back the urge to laugh at you. He grabs the tight leather straps and unbuckles the gag. He pulls the black bone away, drawing a string of saliva from your mouth while the rest poured out onto you.

You stretch your mouth, trying to relieve yourself from the discomfort of being contorted for so long when the Salesman tsks in a mocking fashion, "Look at what you've done! You poked a hole in my property!" He shows you the pierced gag, before petting your head and saying, "But it's okay. You'll pay for damages, right? We can work out your debt."

You frantically nod, tears welling up in your eyes from his smacking. He presses his cheek against yours and licks the salty trail down your face before he whispers, "Good puppy. I know you'll take accountability for your actions. I did train you, after all. Now then, what was that you were trying to tell me? What will happen if you are disqualified?"

Your predicament alone could bring you to tears. Spread open for some Salesman you met off the street in front of a mirror, deprived from pleasure, and yet still craving more of his games.

You choke back a sob from the sensual humiliation so you could speak, "If... I'm disqualified, I can't cum for 2 months." The Salesman beams at your response and replies in a condescending tone, "Correct! Such a smart puppy! What if you complain about your punishment?"

You sniffle and continue, "If I complain.... you double the punishment....4 months." He nods and extends the pole with the hitachi wand. He presses the vibrator against the swollen skin between your thighs before pushing the tip of the gun deeper into you. He pats your head and rests the pile onto your shoulder. A few hums muffled between his lips and then he speaks, "As I said before, you will touch yourself in front of this mirror for me to watch. You will not cum until I say so. I will set a timer, you have 30 minutes. With every whine, beg, or cry, I will add an additional 10 minutes, and if you moan... an extra 20 minutes will be added. Good luck doll, you will certainly need it."

You look at yourself, legs parted and reflected by the glass. You were glistening with sweat and the lubricant from the condom ran down your thighs. You press the wand against yourself, feeling the vibrations build up to pure pleasure only for you to push your cuffed wrists under the top and lift up the pole, stopping yourself from going over the edge. The Salesman spectates, jerking off and staring at you with a lustful gaze. His precum dripping and running down your shoulder while you fucked yourself in front of the mirror. You looked at the camera, which had been recording all along.

You avert your eyes, humiliated and flustered by your predicament. It was then that the Salesman holds your chin and turns it to the mirror while he said, "You keep your eyes on me."

It felt likes ages... but it's only been 2 minutes. Just 28 minutes to go.

When the time passed, and you were down to 2 minutes, the Salesman slaps his cock against your cheek as he says, "Look at you, baby. You're a natural. How about this, since you've been so good for me, I'll countdown. I'll count down from 10 to 0. When I get to 0, you can cum. The punishments for failing this are the same as the ones we spoke of. Now... 10... 9..."

The Salesman counts down, massaging your inner thigh and encouraging you, "Good, good. You're holding out just the way I taught you. Deep breath, in and out...yes... good job. 8...7....6....5...."

You try to steady your breathing, waiting for his permission. You briefly contract against the gun, throbbing as the vibrator sends waves of pleasure to your core. Your breaths stutter, but the Salesman slaps your inner thigh and pinches your nipple while he scolds, "Quit it, bitch! Not until I say so!" He lets out a breath, pumping himself and whispering in your ear, "There we go... slow and steady. Breathe.... 4...3...2....1...hold it...." The salesman keeps you on edge for 10 extra seconds, a few extra seconds of extrauciating pleasure, and then finally he says...

"0... congratulations, you have reached the end. Go on... you have my permission."

The gratifying euphoria of his calm but firm confirmation brought the throbbing hot sensation of you coming undone right before his very eyes. Your body ripples with pleasure as the room's pink hue highlighted the way your face contorted and relaxed from the high the Salesman had blessed you with. You could hear him let out a deep moan. That was when you felt your chest become covered in his cum. Thick ropes of his climax painted your skin and glistened from the room's atmosphere. You were both heaving, trying to calm down from the aftershocks of what had happened.

The Salesman unlocks the handcuffs that bounded you to the pole and the spreader bar. He rubs your limbs and kisses you on the head. He whispers, "You did such an amazing job, puppy. You're so good to me. I don't know what I did to get someone as sweet as you. Now then, let's play a new game. A bath game, this time. You wash me, and I'll wash you. Whoever finishes washing their partner first...hm... they can get a treat. How about it?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile while he wiped your tears. He is well aware of the intensity of this scene. Especially with the gunplay, you never did that before. While he doesn't know what you two are exactly, he does know that he, much to his surprise, gets concerned for you. He doesn't know why, but he seems to enjoy looking out for you.

He stretches your body, rubbing away the aches that remained from your games. He then wraps his arm around your shoulder, and carefully takes you to the bathroom.

In a quiet room, the hot water splashes while your chest presses against his. Despite the grey area in the relationship, you had to admit, it is pretty intimate. Even he thought the same. He is so used to having an empty house, and this aftercare after every session was causing something to change within him...

Whatever the case may be, the Salesman holds you close and speaks softly,

"You know... I could get used to this..."

Canon.

He's silly, he didn't understand flashmob original:

I just finished writing a fic of him and I'll do it again. Maybe a male!reader this time? Or hell, I'll even do a top!fem reader. Getting ideas rn...

This gun scene on squid game 2 honestly had me physically GASPING for air I need to see some fics about this IMMEDIATELY pls pls pls pls TAG ME YALL

THE COLORS ARE POPPING OMFGGGGGG IDK WHO THIS MAN IS BUT WHO IS THIS DIVAAAAA

Experiencing the horrors rn so I'm making him wear a dress

PUFF PUFF NSFW ALPHABET HEADCANONS

Yall, this is my time posting smut headcanons.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Lazy as hell and extremely tired. He just wants to fall asleep holding your or being held. He keeps paper towels on hand for a quick clean up and praises you or tiredly rambles a little. Out like a light!

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

He DID NOT make a song about his balls for nothing. He takes pride in the size of his balls and he definitely favors them. He likes the way they slap against you, he likes it when you fondle them, when you suck them, whatever. He loves it all. And on you? We already know he's a chest guy. I mean, he loves other parts, but the chest is the best to him. He loves huge tits, medium ones, small ones, he loves man tits too. He loves sucking them, fucking them, cumming on them, he's just nasty.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He's a freak when it comes to cumming. Of course, he'll wanna do it inside. But he wouldn't mind jerking off and putting it on your face, or your chest, or back, or stomach, if he had the fuel, he'd cum all over you. He loves seeing you drenched in his cum. Makes him feel powerful.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly into prostate play. He's a little insecure about that because of masculinity ideals. But he secretly likes prostate play. He even owns a prostate massager.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's had plenty of girls and a few others. He knows how to get ready, how to stay safe, and of course, how to be fun. He'll always make sure you get to cum. And he'll work his dick till he knows for sure you got your chance to cum.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Prone bone since he likes the tightness of the reciever, cowgirl so he could watch you bounce on his dick and cream all over it, and he also likes sitting in a chair to watch you. Also 69 and titfucks.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Goofy as hell. All the jokes, all sensual and flirty.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He shaves some of his hair and trims the rest.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

That depends on the relationship. If it's a one-time thing? He won't be that romantic, just say the typical praise to make a partner cum. But if it's legit? Oh, he'll get real romantic. Tell you how much he adores you and how he wants to stuff you every day as his own.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Jerks it every day. He's horny as fuck. He does it in the morning especially since at night.... he has you! Oh, and expect lots of cumshot videos. Just videos of him stroking and pumping his cock until he shoots out all his cum.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Voyeurism. He loves to sit in a chair and drink a cold beer while he watches you fuck yourself with a toy. He also loves filming. But only he gets to see it... he's posessive with you. He wants to use collars and bite you up. He's also got a bit of a cum fetish.... covering you in his cum make his dick leak. Bondage, overstimulation, edging, denial, oh he loves to tease. Also a voice kink. He could cum from your voice alone.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His RV, his bed, your bed, your backyard, the bathroom, he wants you everywhere.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Showing off your chest, wearing lingerie, getting ready for a shower, watching you get excited over a toy you bought, teasing either giving or receiving the tease.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No hitting, no yelling, no piss or shit, no blood, he just wants to show you off.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes to receive more. Having you on your knees, wrapping your lips around his cock and cumming all over you. Plus, it makes him feel taller, more dominant. But he'll give it to you too. Oh, and 69 is the best. Feeling and recieving is the best.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and sensual. He just wants to pound you till you're full and he's drained. He wants to stuff you till you're dripping. He just wants to show you how much he wants you and how much he loves you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Love it. Not as good as taking time, but he usually wants you real quick. He just wants to fuck you in the bathroom or the closet.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

All for it. He wouldn't mind pinning you against a window and fucking you. A quickie backstage, a quickie at his meemaw's. He's horny as hell. He wants you in every position.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

3 rounds. Sometimes 4 on rare occassions. He lasts about 15-30 minutes. Maybe an hour and a half if he's edging.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns a few. Sex toys are expensive, so he doesn't own a lot. He's got a prostate massager and a clear fleshlight for himself. For you? A massager, some handcuffs, and a pulsator.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Oh he LOVES to tease! He's bratty as a bottom, and teasing as a top. He loves edging and denying his partner and he loves being put in his place. He wants to be brought down a peg (he'll never admit that though)

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Tries to stay quiet but he grunts a lot... and he moans low. Unless he's a bottom, then he's a screamer.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

He loves making amateur videos with you and watching it over and over. He also loves sexting you.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big balls, dick's about 4 inches soft and 6 when he's hard. A little thick in girth.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Horny as fuck all the time. Down to fuck at 3 AM, 7 AM, anytime, anywhere.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He's out like a light a few minutes after he busts.

Goddddd sex with Joel would be a fucking DREAM!😩

Joel loves slow sensual sex with you. He loves worshiping your body, talking his time with you. you loved the way his big brown eyes looked down at you so lovingly with his pouty lips. His favorite thing is kissing you, your neck, your lips your favorite spots. You loved smelling his cologne the smell of woodsy pine, feeling of his big hands on your waist and his rough stubble of his beard on your cheek. He loved the way you would bite his lower lip, it drove him crazy. The first time he told you he loved you was in the middle of sex. He whimpered in your ear “I love you so much” right when you both hit your high, it was the most beautiful thing you ever heard

I need more metaphorical fanfics like ong this got my English literature nerd ass squealing with joy. You convey James' guilt and desire for human connection and euphoria so beautifully like I swearrrr I could annotate this bitch!

bliss

pairing: james sunderland x maria

cws/tags: p in v, oral, dubcon? (james is not into it), excessive metaphors

summary: if james and maria fucked or something??

a/n: idk even know how to describe this bc it's silent hill? like what is really happening here is subjective tbh

wc: 1k

taglist | ko-fi | masterlist

Despite being held captive by Maria’s heat, James is thinking of Mary the entire time. She’s hot on the surface, warm on the inside, cold in her organs, freezing in her bones, and empty of a soul. Her pink acrylics are like fire when she digs them into his skin. She can’t keep him forever, but he’ll be covered in scratch marks for days. 

Beauty is pain, pain is beauty, or however the old saying goes. 

Maria looks more like Mary when she’s naked. When the choker is off. It looks like a dog collar, he once told her. And how appropriate it is for someone who sat pretty on the side of his bed and begged for this – for scraps. That’s what this is. The leftovers of love that no one else will have – like rotten fruit, it was once good. All of this is bitter, but everyone needs to eat something, at least once in a while, right? It’s not a feast, but it’ll do.

Maria isn’t the kind of dog that barks, she whimpers, and it tugs at his heartstrings until they snap and his willpower unravels. She sheds leopard print like snakeskin, hues of violet, magenta, cranberry, fall to the floor all at once. 

Her skin is soft, breasts perky, pink-nippled, the kind you see in magazines. James plays with them like he does keys on a piano – not well-practiced, yet eliciting sound nonetheless. She’s quiet now – a rarity – likely because Laura is down the hall, asleep, unaware, as she should be. More often than not, she is loud. Her heels click-clack down the hallway towards his bedroom like a warning siren, coming closer, speeding up with every step like his heartbeat.

Even with her shoes on, Maria doesn’t reach James in stature. Neither did Mary, but she never tried to, never needed to — she was above him in every other way. She was ephemeral. Quiet and angelic in ballet flats, she could slip into bed without waking him up. Realistically, she took up a third of this bed at most, maybe a quarter at her sickest, but with her absence the entirety of it feels empty, hollow, like the stuffing’s been removed from the mattress too, though two people lay upon it. 

His name floats from Maria’s lips to his ear, breathless, asking for more than he can give. He wonders if this is what Mary sounded like when they did this sort of thing all those years ago. James remembers her voice, her singing in the passenger seat to the mixtape he made for their first Valentine’s Day together, her yelling at him in the hospital. But he doesn’t remember her moaning, not like this, not on the edge of bliss. Those weren’t the memories he held onto the tightest. 

Not with the same grip that he has on Maria’s hips, maintaining the most control he can while she’s the one on top. Not with the same grip Maria’s cunt has around his dick. She’s squeezing the life out of him, but it feels good, undeniably. Unfairly. Penance is a woman. 

She’s so wet he slipped right in, so wet he slipped up and told her, “goddamn, you’re wet”, caught by surprise because what had he done? His mouth hasn’t touched either pair of lips, and he plans to keep it that way. 

When she gets up, removing the warmth that surrounded him, he groans in frustration. It’s a noise that must be familiar to her. His immense vexation is the only thing larger than her infatuation with him. 

James looks down – something he’s avoided doing until now – and sees her crawling downwards, pressing kisses down his stomach. 

“What are you doing?” he says with zero amusement.

Staining him with dark red lipstick. Like wine or blood. Like before and after.

“Has no one ever done this to you?” she asks, and she takes hold of his cock, making him take in a sharp breath before he answers.

It’s like a stab right through the chest, knocking the wind out of him with the force of something unspoken.  

“No, I– I mean, yes, I’ve had this done to me before. I’m asking you why you’re doing this.”

“Why not? You won’t even have to look at me, I can be under the covers, and you won’t have to hear me talking. You can even pretend I’m someone–”

“Shut up,” he says with a force he’d forgotten he could muster as he shoves his cock down her throat. 

He could pretend it’s someone else – the same way he’s been pretending Maria is Mary for the past 30 minutes or so, but he’d never hurt Mary. He hated hearing the sound of her gagging. He always kept her from going too far. Who is it if not Mary? 

It doesn’t matter who I am. 

Could she be his psychiatrist who’s 60 years old and annoys him to the point that it makes him miss Maria? The woman at the dry cleaners or the cashier at the grocery store? Maybe he needs to get back into watching porn. His mind runs faster than his feet ever have to get to the answer. There is only disappointment at the end of that road, only white sheets covering the another illusion.                       

It's Maria's mouth that sputters, her throat that chokes around his cock even though it's not that big.

When she first caught a glimpse of it, she gave him that classic bullshit line, telling him how big it is, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, well, it’s not small.”

“Just be normal, or as normal as you can be. I don’t want whatever this weird porn thing is that you’re doing.”

It makes it all seem fake. 

See, I’m real. 

Maybe, but not like Mary. 

Then again, maybe it's better if this is all fake so James and Maria are just marionette dolls in someone else’s fantasy, caught in a videotape. 

Maria doesn't need to be Mary, James doesn't need to be James. Instead, he pretends they’re both other people. She’s a nurse, he’s the doctor, she’s a mother, he’s the father.

James looks into her eyes when he’s on top of her, searching for something he’ll never find, until he gives up and flips her over and fucks her flat into the mattress. 

Maria is quiet only because she screams into the pillow. 

James is quiet because that’s how all tapes end. 

A click, static, then silence. 

The Beauty of Free Will

James x G/N!READER

18+ Minors do not interact!

Tags//Warnings: BDSM dynamics, submissive James, G/N reader, petplay, anaphoras galore, hypnosis/hypnotizing James, James being a free-use sub, voyeurist and exhibitionist dynamic, sadism and masochism dynamic, filming, mentions of sissification, breeding, prostate milking, dacryphillia, and possibly other things.

Free will is a beautiful thing. You can do whatever you want whenever you want however you want---within reason. But what is the reason? Who creates reason? Is it our moral compasses or our habitus that we develop over time?

In James's case... it's you. He has his free will, and with it, he wants to forfeit it. He took his free will to create submission. Not to say that he doesn't make his own choices, he does! But some days... he needs a break from the weight of such an ability. With free will comes the overwhelming burden of how to apply it to one's life; it's the price to pay for being able to do what you please. But you used your free will to accept his, and thus, a dynamic was born between man and caregiver, pet and human.

Some days, James is a grown man with a vague idea of what his agenda is. On other days, he turns to you for guidance, and you provide him a list of things to do throughout the day. The list would be detailed, with tasks such as what chores he had to do, what meals he is to eat, what clothes he is to wear, what time he is to shower, what he is to do during leisure time, and more. It was a long list, and it was strict with little leeway for adjustments, which is why James loved it. His mind gets foggy with structural submission and converts that realization to utter euphoria. Since you set out everything for him, there is no need to think about what to do, when to do it, or how to. All he has to do is this list.

That's the beauty of free will. It could be gifted to you by yourself, or you could forfeit. It could be used, it could be declined, or it could be traded. The act of accepting, declining, or forfeiting free will is a form of free will in itself. James traded his free will to you for that rejuvenating and sensual fog he gets when you take control. When you tell him what to do, when you pick out his clothes, when you decide what he'll eat, when you decide to make him roll over or arch his back, when you decide to use your free will to let him pleasure you with his mouth using the techniques you tell him to use.... and he uses his free will to give himself up so he can be used as your personal toy. When you decide if he can cum, if he should cum, if he should cum hard or if he should be denied or ruined, and best of all.... when you decide go swing that pretty coin in front of him.

Free will is a beautiful thing.

James would always perk up when he saw it. A glamorous, 24k gold coin dangling by a black thread swaying side to side with coquettish whispers and sweet nothings that made James melt onto his knees. He could feel his eyes lull as his sporadic mind became more linear, consistent with a delicious fog rolling in. The beauty of free will. It can be used to accept submission, it can be declined for the sake of pleasure, and it can be traded to be a complete, utter slut to use.

When James was enticed, he swears he feels invincible. That was the irony of free will. You declined it and traded it for submission, only to feel more free than ever. There are no social constructs, no expectations of how one should act based on their sex, no nothing. It's just a thick, heavy fog that could make one giddy, free, and absolutely docile. During these times, James could be whatever you want. He consented to it all before, and he always films himself to document his explorations to feel even safer. He could be your kitten and lick himself clean while you watch, or he could drink you. He could be your puppy and hump your leg, or he could bark for hours on end. He could be your bunny and be bred for hours, or he could take any carrot of any size just for you. Or.... he could be your toy. His mouth is warm and wet for free use, his fingers are calloused yet permeable to any fluids, his ass is tight and presented to you, his nipples are sensitive and untouched, his cock is erect and sensitive to the touch... he is hours of pleasure and entertainment. But the beauty of free will is that it could be reinforced at any given moment at any point of these sensually submissive sessions. All he has to say is "Pasta" and everything ends.

That is the beauty of free will.

So the next time, James foregone his free will to gain free submission, he could feel the fog settle even more with every spank, every beg, every scream, every cry, every orgasm, every denial, every dildo, and every outfit you made him wear. You could do whatever to him, as long as you didn't hit him or shout at him. You could sit on him, dress him up handsomely or beautifully, walk him around like a dog, cum on him, fuck him, spank him, and he'll beg for more every time until he says his safeword.

He loved sucking on whatever toy you used so he could taste you more and stay silent. He loved being folded, he loved being pounded, he loved being overstimulated, he loved being denied, he loved being told yes as much as he loved being told no, he loved being filmed, he loved sucking himself, he loved being free to use for your pleasure, he loved feeling your orgasm ripple through waves as you released all over him, he loved smelling like nothing but your fluids, he loved being completely, utterly, yours. Your little toy, your little doll, your little pet, your little everything. All of his repressed desires are released like Pandora's box when he sees that pretty gold coin.

When he's a kitten, he loves to play with the coin, when he's a puppy, he loves to bark at it, when he's a bunny, he loves to sniffle at it, and when he's a toy.... he loves to get into whatever position you tell him and truly understands what delights are made from free will. He could remember, amidst the fog in his subservient brain, the night he stroked himself for your viewing pleasure. He pumped himself slowly, fastly, consistently, inconsistently, whatever ways you told him to. He was granted the gift of free through your permission, and he suddenly felt the warm, creamy fluid burst onto his face with light drizzles and drops. James spent hours mindlessly sucking away his cum while you watched him milk himself even more.

The beauty of free will.... to watch a show performed by your man, your toy, and your pet. The beauty of free will to be watched, to be ordered, to be used for someone's sexual gratification.... all while both of you have the free will to say one simple word to end it... all while both of you have a routine afterward to cater to one another's emotional, physical, and mental needs... all while you both have each other to cuddle up to at the end of it all.

Free will is a beautiful thing.

I feel like Huxley would add in "Among Us sus" pics with a big red circle and arrow to be "trendy and hip" even if it died out 2 years back.

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