Inversion Conversion

 Let me break it down for you. There is a Man shortage in the world today. Oh, there are plenty of men. But there aren't many who knows what it means to be a Man, and even fewer who uderstand what it means to be a dominant in a world of submissives. I have come to the hard-learned conclusion that the true dominants in our flesh and blood world started as submissives. In the Alpha archetype void, we have evolved, if begrudingly, to become the physical embodiment of our ideology. And we do it better than anyone because we invented the genre and the Alpha mythology. I've also come to believe that BDSM is by in large a form of drag; it's a cover for grossly insecure and narcassistic men on both ends of the Alpha/sub, Master/slave spectrum. I have no need for paraphernalia and refuff the normative stereotypes of what it mean (and looks like) to be an Alpha among a world of weak men. I am constantly searching for the next "man" to dominate, use, objectify, and devour. The more muscular and hairier the better. This is my truth; you don't have to buy into it. In fact, i suggest the blue pill; the red one is a bitch.

[iammegadaddyissues-deactivated2]

“No, you’ll get that when I say you’ll get it.  Stop worrying about my dick and start concentrating on earning it.”

My face flushes in embarrassment and i release my hold on His crotch. “Does He not want me?” I think as i return timidly to His meaty pec. The thick hair around His nipple is moist and matted from my sucking.  He brings a large hand to the back of my head and holds me gently yet firmly to His chest as my mouth encircles His pec once more. 

His gentle rebuke is a subtle yet effective way of letting me know that He is in control - over Himself and over me - and that He maintains the ultimate authority over what will or won’t happen.  It also has the powerful affect of temporarily quelling my eagerness if not my spirit.  Despite being a dedicated, skilled, and experienced sub i don’t have much confidence already because i’m so overwhelmed by His rugged good looks and incredible body. 

i’ve spent the last 30 minutes or so touching and tasting His beautiful, broad, hairy chest.  i’ve sucked and licked, tweaking His nipples and chewing ever so slightly.  My tongue has traveled up and down over the rippled folds of His stomach, twirling into His navel.  It’s all been wonderful.  But it hasn’t calmed me.  On the contrary.  After feeling His prodigious dick through the stretched fabric of His jeans i’m ready to see it up close and personal. 

He seems to be enjoying Himself and His dick was so hard when i groped it that i swear i could feel it pulsing against my finger tips.  But my heart sinks and i wonder if He plans to fuck me at all.

As though He were reading my mind He pulls my face off His chest and guides me upward to His mouth. My hands are on His chest and to my surprise i feel myself resisting Him as he draws me near.  He’s even more intimidating up close.  He kisses me with a wide open mouth.  It’s a hard, almost angry kiss that takes my breath away.  His thick tongue is in my mouth and soon my face is reddened and chaffed from beard burn.  Ironically the intimacy and physicality of what’s now happening suddenly seems to be happening too fast.

Again, as though reading my mind He pulls my head back by the hair and holds me within inches of His face.  i’m gasping and stunned and confused. 

“Be careful what you wish for, eh?  You think you can handle me?  You think you’re ready for my dick? Let me tell you what I think.  I think you’ve never been with a Man like me before. And I’m pretty confident you’ve never had a dick like mine before either.  I can see it in your eyes that I’m right.  I was trying to extend you a mercy.  Thought perhaps you’d want a bit more ‘cuddle’ time so you could relax some before I pin you down and rape your ass. But that’s wasted on you, isn’t it.  This is the way you like it.  Isn’t it, bitch.”

i can’t answer Him.  i don’t have too.  My rock-hard penis says it all. He’s right.  And on top of it, it turns out I can’t handle Him … or His dick.   i’d been so enthralled with His thick, muscular arms that i’d not considered the enormous strength and power behind them.  Only now, as i try with all my strength to fight Him off me do i realize that He doesn’t even have to break a sweat to hold me down. 

He stares at me with a coldness that evaporates any hope for even a second of what He calls mercy.  He watches intently - expressionless - as He forces me to take another inch of His cock.  The thickness of it only seems to increase with depth. i scream in fear, panicked by many and multiple things.  How can i possibly take it all when i already feel as though He’s pounding up against the very limits of what my pussy can take?  My pleas for Him to stop have fallen on deaf ears.  i’m also terrified by how strong He is and that He doesn’t seem to realize - or perhaps He does - that He’s bruising me by His grip.  

He puts His fingers in my mouth and turns my head to the side.  With His other hand pressing roughly on the side of my face, He thrusts with such startling power that it silences my scream.  i feel my inner pussy ripping open and a long, protracted groan escapes through His fingers as He spreads me wide and fucks me. 

The violence that ensues shames and frightens me to as much silence as i can muster.  The way He’s dominating and fucking me makes me feel more feminine and weak than i’ve ever felt in my adult life.   His low, pendulous balls slap loudly against my ass with each thrust.  i feel like a rag doll beneath Him.  He barely makes a sound as He fucks me.  Soon i’m covered in His sweat and i realize that i’ve cum all over myself.  He keeps fucking me - unmoved by my orgasm and i hear myself moaning and making inhuman sounds - whorish, pathetic sounds. 

i feel physically drained but there’s nothing for me to do anyway.  There’s nothing i can do to stop the pain or the assault.  Feeling me “give up” He turns my head back to His face and starts to kiss me once again as though giving me CPR - His large open mouth covering mine, His warm, labored breath breathing life into my weak and battered body.

He moans loudly into my mouth.  His large, muscular body tenses and with rapid, fierce thrusts He starts to convulse.  He starts to cum.  i can’t feel it because my pussy is so bruised but i know it’s happening. 

It’s hard to go home after that.  Everything in me and in my world has changed. And i don’t know what to do.  Even though He fingered and played in my sloppy pussy for a humiliatingly long period of time afterwards, i still feel cum leaking out of me as i try to gather my clothes strewn around the room.  i hear the shower turn off and i quicken my pace.

He steps out of the bathroom and sees me with standing there with a handful of my clothes.  Water drips off His body.  “Where do you think you’re going?  You have somewhere to be, something to do that’s more important than licking me dry?”  He drops the thick, white, terry cloth towel onto the floor and waits expectantly.  His dick hangs low between His hairy thighs.  Falling repentantly to my knees, i crawl slowly towards Him.  i know that the touch of my trembling tongue on His body will stimulate Him.  And i’m glad.   

[thinking-mans-submissive]

One of mine.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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.

It must suck to be beautiful.

[iammegadaddyissues-deactivated2]

“You’re doing it again.  I can feel it.  Come back to me.  Get out of your head, baby and focus on this - on us.  No guilt, no shame.  No worries.  You were made for this and you know it - made to be taken and controlled by someone who understands and appreciates you.  Feel me inside you.  I know it hurts, baby, but you’re doing so good.  Now let me in your head too.  And your heart.  I will take you places you’ve never dreamed.  Surrender.  Give me everything - all of you - and together we’ll be very, very happy.  You’re too beautifully complex to be in charge of your own life; you need a Mature Man to dominate and discipline you, with love and affection.  That’s it, baby … oh yes … you like the sound of that don’t you.  I can feel your pussy milking me.  So are you ready to take my seed?  I want to make a baby in you.  Oh you like the idea of that, don’t you … having my baby?  Being impregnated?  You’re pussy is so tight and sweet … are you ready?  Hold Daddy’s seed in your pussy for as long as you can, you understand?  Show me how thankful you are to have it inside you. Hold still now and brace yourself; Daddy needs to fuck.”  

[masc-pussy-boy]

I might be male but I will always have a pussy for Daddy.

Anyone who wants to be my husband?

[thinking-mans-submissive]

i will always reblog when i see one of my posts still floating around out there. i'm still here.

xoxo

mdi

[thinking-mans-submissive]

"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.

I remove myself from his lap and shoo him away. My hole feels deliciously abused and I have to clench down to keep his load from spilling out down my leg.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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.

When you're lounging around with nothing to distract you, think about how I've reduced all your life's accomplishments down to the way you look. Think about the fact that I don't want to know anything about you and can barely remember your name. And then think about how hard it makes you to please me and to be sexualized. To be hard muscle and dick for my pleasure and entertainment. To have no control over your own orgasms. And to work tirelessly for one man's approval - just so you can be taken further and further down the rabbit hole.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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.

You're so fucking tight and I love the way your entire body tenses up as I slowly work you open to take my entire fist. I can't think of a better way to set the tone for the long weekend ahead. You will never be the same man again. But you will always be a man. A man that belongs to me.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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."

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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.

He's a good boy. But I'm afraid if I don't sexualize and objectify him more that I might actually start to get attached to him. And that just complicates things. Getting him trimmed up is just the first step. He's just too fucking cute, so I'm thinking we may have to transition to a hood so I can't be swayed by those adoring eyes.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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.

He allows you to kiss him because he enjoys it - he enjoys manipulating you and pulling at your heart strings. He's young, virile, and an insatiable hedonist who will move on quickly when he's taken everything he wants from you. You know it's coming, but you hold nothing back so that his experience is all the more pleasurable - the experience of greedily taking everything you have to give.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

"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.

Timing is everything. It took you years to get here and yet only days to come this far. You're beautiful. And you're mine.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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.

What goes through your mind as you stare up at me with glazed eyes after you've given yourself so unconditionally and reverentially? I wonder. I suppose if I really wanted to know I'd remove the gag and let you speak. But when you talk it just makes my dick go limp. You know that, right, baby? What is there to say, after all? You're just a pretty thing for me to play with.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

The Red Pill

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.

mdi

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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??"

"Might be hot to double-knot it. But I don't want your fucking scent on my property - not right now anyway."

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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.”

i’m still sniffling when i crumble to my knees and crawl between Your thighs. i’m on autopilot and the only thing that snaps me out of me my daze is the warm, musty smell of Your hairy crotch as Your hands grip my head and You impale my throat on Your cock. i gag and retch. “Shhh! Don’t worry, baby. I’ll have you soaring in no time and then you’ll beg me to fuck you ... beg me to hurt you. And I will, sweetheart. Oh, I will.”

[iammegadaddyissues-deactivated2]

With every moment you sit with Him your resolve to behave as a proper lady, to be tasteful and to show restraint and control lessens more and more. You’ve been a whore all your life and now you’re frightened to death that you’ll do something to fuck it up because, god damn it, you don’t know how to act if you’re not being an unchained, shameless whore. You’re just a pitiful, bumbling fag who has no resistance to the Manliness radiating off the Daddy sitting across from you. Your heart races and you both know with great certainty the He’ll be fucking you before the night is over, that you’ll be sucking His dick and that He will own you and that it will be better than good; it will be incredible. 

“You’re adorable.” His smile lends sincerity to the words and you dare to wonder if He might see more in you than just an easy fuck. Even though you’ve just met the chemistry is palpable and strong - the natural draw of boi to Man, sub to Alpha, servant to Master is undeniable but there’s something more too. You sense genuine warmth and kindness and it throws you off your game.

The thing is, He knows you’re a whore. And there will be a time and a place for Him to enjoy the pleasures and benefits of your experience, skills, and natural abilities. He is, after all, a Man and He will fuck you like the whore you are without hesitation or restraint. He’ll call you His baby gyrl, even as He stretches your pussy with His thick, Daddy dick and fucks you until you’re screaming in pain and pleasure. You’ll cling to His sweat-covered body as He empties Himself deep inside you and cum will leak from your small penis from the joy of being His. 

He knows how badly you want to give yourself to Him and it makes Him hard. He’s amused and touched by how desperate you are to make a good impression and to please Him. Out of kindness and mercy, He leans towards you and says in a low steady voice …

“I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to be a good little faggot for Daddy. So I want you to relax and be present with me right now. We’re going to lose ourselves in the pleasures of being who we are with each other without judgement. I know you want to be my little girl. I like that and you will be. But right now I want to get to know you. So stop worrying and be yourself. Because no matter what you say, it won’t keep me from fucking you. Do you understand?”

Your face is void of color and you’ve been holding your breath.  Your heart is about to burst but you manage a shaky, “Yes.” 

“Yes?“ 

“Yes, Daddy.  Yes, Sir.”

“You’ll get a spanking for that breach of respect, baby girl. But I know you want that and need it, so I won’t feel bad about giving it to you. Everyone here can see what you are to me. So why don’t you come slide over here and lets talk, drink, and get to know each other before I take you home.  That’s a good girl …" 

[service-man-tx]

:) From my original blog many years ago, when Tumblr was truly free. Still a genuine joy to see these posts are still circulating. mdi lives. xoxo

[service-man-tx]

A Good Christian

What has that ever really meant. If i've read the Bible correctly, none of us are good. Only one person who ever was. But i tried to be good, tried to please my mama and be a good boy all around. Didn't make me real popular. And sure didn't help when puberty kicked in. In my mind, we were all sinners, but i was the worst kind.

The cross on His muscular, hairy chest made me feel ashamed for lusting after Him the way i was, but T.J. had been the object of my masturbatory fantasies from an early age. He was always nice to me, waving at me from across the street. He was a quiet guy. I suppose His mama thought He was a good boy to.

i don't know what prompted the sudden change in interest, but it just seemed to happen that one day He was suddenly talking to me and seemed to be trying to develop a relationship with me. i was shy as fuck, but soaked up the attention like a sponge. i'd hang around while He worked on His car or cleaned His guns; i was His shadow. i guess our mamas thought it was cute - me, little and effeminate, idolizing my big, strong, masculine neighbor. If they thought i wanted to be just like Him they couldn't have been more wrong.

The more time i spent with T.J. the more i realized i'd never be like Him no matter how hard i tried. He was everything i wasn't and would never be - not just physically, but in ways i couldn't explain just yet. But T.J. seemed totally content with me just watching, and never tried to teach me how to be a real Man. That was good, because i didn't want to be like Him; i wanted to submit to Him. i wanted to please Him with everything i had at my disposal. i'd lay awake at night fantasizing about being His wife and what a privilege it would be to carry His children. It was agony to dream such ridiculous dreams.

i had to keep my emotions and sinful desires in check; a good Christian like T.J. would drop me cold if He ever knew how i really felt. But when He'd pat me on the back or touch me i would just melt and lean into it despite myself. And He noticed and kept doing it anyway, His touches becoming longer and more intimate.

The camping trip He arranged for us will burn in my memory for as long as i live.

"You'd be warmer if we shared a sleeping bag. It's going to get cold tonight."

The smile on my face must have shone like pure love. Despite the cold, T.J. stripped to His underwear before crawling in the large insulated sleeping bag and i did the same. When He pulled me close and wrapped His huge arms around me i snuggled in tight against His hard, hairy body.

After a few quite minutes i felt His warm breath against the back of my neck and then soft touch of His full lips. i moaned loudly, unable to hide my longing any more.

i remember a lot about our first time together. But one thing i remember the most was the cold feel of His gold cross as it lay across my bare chest while He enveloped me and kissed me.

We took our time exploring each other's body. It wasn't until 2 or 3 in the morning before i'd worked up the courage to ask Him to deflower me. After a few failed attempts, He finally opened me up enough to penetrate past my small, tight hole. i screamed in pain but clung to His muscled arms, refusing to let Him pull out. i wanted Him inside me; i wanted to give Him this.

He took His time, and just when i'd given up that it wasn't going to happen, He forced Himself in completely in one smooth but unrelenting thrust that pressed the breath right out of me. i felt impaled and full and it was the most natural and beautiful feeling i'd ever had in my life.

i cried tears of joy in those early morning hours, cherishing the sounds He made as He worked Himself to His first orgasm. i marveled at the feel of His hard body as He shuddered and moaned and i couldn't believe i could give Him such pleasure. The smile He gave me as He lay on top of me made my heart nearly burst with happiness.

People would notice the change in me - in us. i was sure of it. So i didn't think it would matter if i asked, "Can i wear your necklace, T.J.? i just ... i just want something of yours that touches my skin so i can feel you near me all the time." He took it off immediately before the last words had left my trembling lips. He didn't hand it to me; He put it around my neck Himself. It hung much lower on me than it did on Him, so maybe no one would notice after all.

i cried that morning in the shower at home when i couldn't hold His cum inside me any longer and i had to watch it disappear down the drain at my feet. i was a doomed sinner and the world - at least, the world T.J. and i lived in - was against us.

It hurt a little to walk that day, but i didn't want the pain to go away. And when i said that to T.J. later that afternoon, i confessed it without shame or embarrassment because i knew He would understand.

He didn't say anything for a while, His eyes on the wrench in His hand as He dipped His head beneath the raised hood of His '66 Mustang. i savored the sight of His ass in tight jeans as He bent over and wondered if i've fucked things up by pressuring Him into a response.

"It will hurt less the more we do it." He kept working, and although i couldn't see His face i imagined He was smiling. And so was i.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

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. 

Yanking my hand free, I quickly slammed my cock into the gapping hole before me and wondered if I would ever grow tired of hearing him willingly suffer for my pleasure. More importantly, I wondered how much pleasure and service I’d be able to extract from him before he’d have nothing left to give me - or before I grew tired of him.