Summary: This is a short spin-off chapter I wrote as a commission, which follows an alternate version of the story Number Six Looks Just Like you. At the end of Chapter 3 we see Ryan in the hands of Delilah, but in this spin-off we imagine that he instead chose Rachel, the stern and strict disciplinarian. Here we find out what would have happened to him if he had gone home with Rachel instead!
Contains: F/m, size comparisons, 7-10ft tall amazon woman, thick bbw body, femdom, "mommydom" talk, orgasm denial, teasing, handjob, edging.
DARK THEMES: Mental abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, manipulation, extremely strict living, maternal figure, discipline.
[This is an alternate branch-off from my published story Number 6 Looks Just Like you. In this version, we follow what happened to Ryan, but instead of Delilah winning, Rachel won instead.]
Ryan was panicking. The wheel was slowing down, its flashy electronic chirps becoming fewer and further between. He had to make a choice now that would shape the rest of his life, and had no time left to think about it. His heart was hammering in his ears, as he could feel what would likely be last choice he would likely ever be allowed to make for himself slipping away.
Not far from him, watching and reading his every expression, was the woman who had coldly, calculatingly, won every round of the contest. Her demeanour was stiff, but that just made her stand out more from the erstwhile ravenous crowd and contestants. She wasn’t baying for his body. No, there was a deep, cold, cutting intellect there.
Throughout the contest that stark difference was what had made her stand out in his mind. He had the eyes of hundreds of women staring at him, but somehow it felt like only she was truly looking at him.
Her eyes were locked on his, unmoving.
Amidst the screams of the hundreds of transformed women in the audience and the baying of the other contestants all that noise was sucked away, slowly, growing dimmer and dimmer until all Ryan could hear was the beating of his own heart, and all he could see was her subtle smile.
Thrum - thrum - thrum. Every heartbeat echoed. He could feel his last gasp at free choice sinking through his fingers like sand as the beat of his blood through his ears was almost deafening.
Ryan ran. He wasn’t thinking. His feet were simply carrying him.
The others were like all the rest. The athlete, Stacy, the beautiful woman Sam, and Delilah with those massive breasts… he knew what awaited him in their arms. Cloying, suffocating pampering and endless smothering.
Rachel was different. Maybe… maybe she would give him something no one else could.
Rachel allowed the slightest grin to grace her deep red lips as Ryan wrapped his arms around one of her considerably thick thighs, coated in a deep black stocking. She had never been in any doubt as to the outcome. The other women had tried, but ultimately, they didn’t know what boys needed.
She clutched her pale fingers into his hair, pressing his head a little closer to her.
What Ryan really needed, deep down, was what only she was able to provide.
******
Ryan awoke from his dream.
It had felt so real. Maybe it had been real… or parts of it had. It was hard to say. Days had begun to blend together so often now. It was hard to keep track of anything. He wasn’t sure many of his memories of his life before were real anymore.
His room was huge. Of course, it wasn’t designed for him, but for much larger women after they had undergone their transformation. It was warm and comfortable, if sparse. Indeed, it was practically spartan.
Ryan didn’t own anything anymore, and Rachel had never allowed him to clothe himself, let alone choose how to dress, so he had no need of a cupboard or drawers. Aside from his bed tucked into a corner there was nothing else but a very large, lavish chair.
Occasionally he’d hear Rachel enter his room at night. More often than not it was to ‘check up’ on him; little more than a thinly veiled excuse for her to tease the poor boy senseless before finally letting him get back to a very fitful sleep. However she seemed to enjoy nothing more than getting up in the middle of the night to have Ryan eat her out, her colossal fleshy thighs pinning his face between her legs as she teased his cock with her toes.
Sometimes, though, he heard her enter in the night and just sit there. He didn’t look up, he didn’t have to. She would be watching him. Sometimes just for a few minutes… sometimes much longer. He never knew what she was thinking in those moments, but his mind raced as he imagined just where her twisted thoughts dwelled.
It was a new day. Ryan slowly got out of bed, trying to ignore the delicate clinking of the smooth, shiny, silvery metallic chain which was a constant reminder of his lot. His brow furrowed. He hated this. He hated it, he told himself, for the thousandth time. That was his mantra, his internal code. He told himself he hated it.
That made it easier to ignore just how hard his cock was.
No matter how he tried to convince himself he hated it, though, he knew it would do him no good to resist. Rachel was ruthless. She seemed to love nothing more than rooting out even the slightest shred of defiance within him and crushing it mercilessly.
As such, he made his bed. He had done it so many times by now that it was almost automatic. He had practiced every movement over and over in his extremely limited free time; much to her delight.
He knew he couldn’t give her any excuse to punish him. Not that she needed an excuse, she would always find one, but at least he could convince himself he had forced her to.
On some level this was his resistance, his defiance. To do it perfectly and show her. He felt his throat tighten, though, as deep down he knew what that meant. She had conditioned him perfectly. He was utterly obedient. He was doing what she wanted willingly now without even a hint of resistance.
After smoothing out every edge, every crease, and every fold, his bed was made immaculately. He held the chain to the collar around his neck in one hand, ensuring it wouldn’t disturb the linens even slightly.
“Good morning, Ryan.” Her voice came, coolly, from the door.
Ryan stood up straight and turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers as he covered his cock with one hand, the chain still held aloft in the other.
Rachel was smiling. Ryan wasn’t sure if that was good. He was never sure of anything in their home.
Her home, he reminded himself, cursing silently. This wasn’t his home. It never would be, no matter how she tried to force him to think of it as such.
Rachel admired his naked body, so slight, so small compared to her impressive size. She liked to keep the boy nude. It made him so flustered and jumpy, so adorable. Occasionally she liked to force him to wear skimpy, revealing little outfits for her amusement; mostly though she kept him naked - as all boys should be.
It reminded him of his place.
“Very good Ryan. I can see you’re learning, finally.” She smirked a little, gently grazing her lips with one of her nails.
Ryan stayed silent. He knew better than to rise to her bait by now.
“However, good boys keep their hands to themselves.” She chided. “Hand to your side.”
Ruefully, he pulled his hand slowly away - as slowly as he thought he could get away with.
“Oh my, someone’s very excited this morning.” Rachel said softly, biting her tongue behind her teeth and admiring his straining erection. “Although I guess boys can’t help getting excited when they’re around such a beautiful woman all day…”
He knew it was a trap, but fell for it anyway. He always did.
His eyes roamed her beautiful body, drinking in every one of her utterly mind-bending curves. Her supple breasts filled out her jet black sleeveless cardigan so well. It was buttoned only by a single button which was forever straining as the material tugged it, and beneath was nothing but the massive swells of her tits, forever begging to be let loose to smother the boy she kept beneath her at all times.
Her toned body was utterly beautiful, but when you reached her waist it suddenly swelled out, a massive ass and incredibly thick thighs which would drive any boy’s mind to temptation.
Wincing, Ryan felt a pang of guilt as he remembered just how many times he had been forced to cum to the sight of her beautiful body. It got worse as he remembered on just how many of those occasions he had been begging for the privilege to do so…
That was far from his deepest shame of course. In his darker moments, alone at night, he had often been found humping his pillow as he fantasized about Rachel. Sometimes he’d even woken up from dreams about her, his cock raging hard as he thrusted away.
Of course he knew better than to cum, or to even touch himself without her permission. He shivered for a moment as memories of those punishments seared into his mind. A week of edging without orgasm was nothing compared to how she punished him exercising even the slightest modicum of agency over his own sexuality.
No, instead he would lay awake for hours in bed, sobbing with frustration, knowing that all he had to do was reach down and stroke himself… but the thought of disobeying her had become almost too much to contemplate. He tried to tell himself he had no choice, that he was just trying to avoid her punishment… but that wasn’t it. Not entirely. He was being obedient. An obedient little slave.
He hated how well her plan was working. He told himself he hated it, at least.
At first, he had fantasized about girls he remembered, girls at school, old crushes.
Over time, though, she had invaded his fantasies just as she invaded his every waking moment. Even if at first he had fantasized about asserting himself, taking her and becoming the man he wanted to be, those fantasies had been cracking under the strain of her endless and suffocating control.
Eventually he had begun to imagine her being on top during sex. Still, they were having sex. In his mind he was taking some control. Then she was giving him a blowjob, a handjob. He was still confident in those fantasies, even as they involved distancing himself from his own control.
Yet in his mind’s eye more and more of her cloying, smug authority had asserted itself. Eventually she was pinning him down, kissing him all over, forcing him to submit to her even in his dreams.
“Looks like someone likes what they see.” Rachel smirked.
Ryan winced, his cock throbbing in mid air, leaking a steady drool of precum. It was like she was always one step ahead, always knew what he was thinking or how to make him think what she wanted him to think. Even his own mind was no longer a sanctuary..
“I know just how to deal with horny little boys.” She murmured with relish, and gently stalked towards him.
He couldn’t help but salivate as her stocking clad thighs grazed one another, the hem of her cardigan just barely low enough to cover her sex, stretched to its limits over her massive derriere.
She slid a finger up her thigh, tracing it over her absurdly wide hips, and dipped it into her cleavage, just to make sure Ryan was watching as she did so.
He knew why she did this every time. As she fished the key on a tiny silver necklace from between her bosom, it reminded him that he was always under her control, and that she was quite literally always holding the key to his freedom between her breasts. Her body controlled him in every possible way.
Of course, it also forced him to stare at her beautiful breasts.
A tiny click, and the chain was freed from the bedpost.
Rachel ran her finger across the cool metallic links for a moment, gently taking in a tiny sharp breath at the sheer feeling of control it gave her, before wrapping it around her finger.
Wordlessly, she led Ryan through their- her home.
The rest of the house, much like his bedroom, was massive in scale. Though Rachel wasn’t the largest transformed woman he’d seen the house still had to be designed with her massive scale in mind. At nearly eight feet tall and with hips at least four feet wide she would scarcely have been able to fit into a normal building. Although as time went on and transformation became the norm there had been fewer and fewer normal buildings left in the world.
As they entered the living room Ryan gasped a little, the sudden heat of the roaring fireplace washing over his body. His cock throbbed and bounced with every step he took, and the bristling warmth was satisfying to feel on his sensitive flesh.
Rachel took a seat on the oversized wine-red sofa, her immense mass sinking into the cushions as she settled in. Smiling, she turned to Ryan, who obediently held out his hand - into which she deposited the chain.
“Good boy.” She said softly.
She knew the effects of positive reinforcement well, and used it to its fullest with Ryan. In spite of himself he couldn’t help feeling a little surge of joy every time she used those words.
He hated it. He hated those words, he muttered inside his mind, or so he tried to tell himself.
She reached over to the side table and poured herself a glass of wine. As she did so, she made sure to exaggerate every movement, effortless sensuality pouring off of her just as the wine poured into the glass, her body’s movements just as smooth and liquid.
Slowly, she swirled it, inhaled it, and sipped it - exhaling in satisfaction.
Through lidded eyes she smiled at the boy who, even at full height, had to look up to meet her eyes when she was seated. He stood so obediently for her now, such a difference from when he had first arrived.
She remembered it all very clearly. Behind the scenes of The Love Match, after hours of signing documents and legal disclaimers, they had given her his legal papers. By then the poor boy had been sitting in a small office room for hours, nervous as all hell. When she had found him he was shivering with anticipation.
“Everything is going to be okay, Ryan. I will make sure of it.” She had reassured him, then simply taken his hand and led him to her car.
Rachel remembered bringing him home. They had sat in that very living room after she had driven with him for hours to get back. The poor boy had fallen asleep on the way. She had struggled to keep her eyes on the road and not just drink in the sight of him.
He was hers. At last, she had a boy of her own. He was so beautiful.
As they had sat there, the fireplace just as warm that night, she had known it was important before anything else she made one thing clear to him. She had sat there, the poor boy shaking with nerves, as she opened an ornate, black wooden box and took out his new collar.
“No matter what happens, this is to remind you that I care about you. No matter what, you belong to me, and you are very precious to me. You chose me for a reason, Ryan. You might not know why yet, but eventually you will. Until then, this collar will remind you that you mean everything to me. Never forget that, Ryan.”
From that moment on, though, Rachel had set her mind to work. She’d been slow at first, but firm. She made it clear that boys were only to speak when spoken to. She’d made it clear that she expected him to be obedient and polite. At first he’d been too nervous to speak up. She knew it wouldn’t last, but it was nice to see a glimmer of the boy he would eventually become.
She’d put him to bed naked the first night, and in the morning explained that boys didn’t dress in her home. His clothes were gone and he wouldn’t be getting more. As the next day or two wore on she’d made it clear to him just how restricted his new life would be with her. He would bathe when told, eat when told and eat what he was told. He would do as he was told, when he was told, without complaint.
It was suffocating for Ryan. It felt like her hands were on his shoulders, guiding him like an overprotective mother at every waking moment. He had truly begun to hate her and regret his choice.
Yet with every restriction she placed on him, every layer of control, it was like pressing a vibrator between her thighs and turning up the dial. The power she felt was indescribable. Every time she stripped a little more of his agency away it made her want to throw her head back and finger herself to a gut-clenching climax - but she restrained herself.
He’d resisted her at first. She’d known he would. Boys were so very hormonal at that age, after all. It was those very hormones she would use to mould him, twist him, to pervert him to her desires. It would take time… but he would break.
At first he had obeyed begrudgingly, just to avoid punishment. That had lasted a while. Slowly he learned every arbitrary rule she laid out, forcing himself to be perfect. She knew he knew why she was doing it. That just made her even more aroused to do it.
As she swirled her wine now, observing the boy, it was remarkable to think it had only been a few months. No doubt it felt much longer to him. Even so, in just that time she had seen so many changes.
Eventually she’d seen the signs she was looking for. He had begun to do things without even thinking about it. She’d spilled a little wine on the table one night and without a second thought he’d reached over for a wet towel to clean it without her even having to ask.
Barely able to disguise her amusement, she had watched as he had stopped mid-motion, only just realising himself that he had done what she would have wanted him to do without even waiting to be told.
He would break, eventually.
She giggled, taking another sip of wine as she observed him. Of course, it was much easier to break a boy down if you edged him for days on end. His cock was practically dripping, throbbing in mid air. He was standing so obediently, arms at his sides, cock on display for her, chain in his hand.
Placing her glass down, she leaned forwards and brought the key from her cleavage again, removing the chain from his collar entirely. She placed it on the sofa beside her.
“You have been such a good boy, Ryan. I am very proud of you.”
His eyes winced for a moment, but he didn’t say a word, didn’t even move. He was determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much those words had affected him.
The mighty throb of his cock gave it away, though.
“I think you deserve a reward.” She whispered into his ear, and trailed a nail down his chest to delicately flick one of his nipples.
His whole body tensed, and she forced her features to stay calm. She wanted nothing more than to ravish the boy right there… but that would take time. Boys needed discipline. They needed to be controlled.
For now, she just had to make do with the torments she inflicted upon him.
“How long has it been since you last got to cum?” She asked sweetly, innocently. “You may speak.”
“I… d-don’t remember.” He mumbled. It was the truth.
“Oh my. That long? You must be so desperate…”
Ryan couldn’t help but whine. He wanted to scream, scream in her face, scream about how unfair it all was.
He knew better now, though. He knew just what that would earn him. He knew this edging and teasing was nothing compared to the real punishments she could hand out on a whim.
“I bet my good little boy… would just love…” She gently hefted his very swollen balls, which twitched with sensitivity even at her delicate touch. “To squirt all of that cum out.”
“Mmmmfh.” Ryan whimpered, feeling his cock ache as she luxuriously weighed his balls as if to feel the load within them.
“Use your words, sweetie.” She chided, just as she began to rub a fingertip against his frenulum, knowing that made it almost impossible for him to speak.
“Y-yes M-mommy.” He managed to mumble out as his brain short-circuited.
“Very good.” She grinned.
She opened a drawer in the side table and removed a soft, padded leather device that Ryan was now well used to.
“Turn around for me.”
He did as he was told, facing away from her, waiting with baited breath. When her hand gently grasped his cock from behind he gasped, and felt his cock truly bounce in her grip.
She tittered a little, before releasing his cock and returning to what she had planned.
“Arms.”
He crossed his arms behind himself obediently. She fed one forearm into a leather cuff, and then the other parallel in the other cuff before cinching them tight. The padding within made them very comfortable to wear. He could, and had, worn this little number for hours without tiring as she had made merry hell upon his cock with her fingers, her mouth… and a few other toys.
“Turn.”
He turned back to face her, and her eyes were on his.
The boy was weary. Desperate.
He tried to read her expression - fruitless as it was. He could never tell what she was thinking, opaque as ever. Even if he hadn’t been half-mad with the need to cum he could never divine her thoughts, though she often made her intentions clear before long.
“You are such a very good boy, Ryan. My sweet little boy.” She cooed softly, her hot breath cascading down his chest and across his cock, which shivered at the attention.
She reached for her wine and took another sip, reclining to enjoy the boy’s desperation as he stood attentively for her, arms bound, cock dripping steadily with need.
At last, she took his cock in her hand and began to gently stroke it. Just her forefinger and thumb at first, loosely gripping his cock, yet that alone was enough to make the boy’s knees shake.
“You have made so much progress, Ryan. I am very proud of you.”
He winced, sensing her intentions. She would always use language like that when she stroked his cock. Deep down he suspected it was so he would associate her words with the feeling of her heavenly handjobs.
“When you are a good boy, you are rewarded.” She cooed softly, and leaned in closer, eyes fixed on his cock now.
She loved to watch his cock weep. She loved watching it ache and throb for her. The boy would resist her as much as he could, but his cock always told the truth. He could fight her as much as she liked, in his mind he could erect as many fences as he wanted, but his cock would always betray him in the end.
It bypassed any of his resistance, going straight to the core of his being. All she had to do was gently stroke his needy little cock, the barest movement of her fingers, and he was soon reduced to a whimpering drooling mess.
Having so much control felt incredible. She wanted to pull the boy down and pin him beneath her, have her way with him. Yet that just wouldn’t do. She had to maintain her composure. In his eyes she had to be a figure of authority and control. Until he was properly trained she had to be strict with him, for his own good. A day would come when she would ravish the boy day and night, once he was ready.
“Such a needy little thing you are…” She cooed, talking directly to his cock, pursing her lips close to it.
She knew the boy fantasized about her mouth, having seen the way his body would react when she would press her plush lips together, running her tongue over them. No doubt the boy had spent countless nights sweating into the sheets thinking about how heavenly her mouth would feel.
Some day she would let him feel it.
For now she maintained her glacially slow pace, stroking his cock back as the slick precum coated his cock, only to loosen her grip ever so slightly and allow his foreskin to slide back through them and cover his head once more. She would pull it back and release it, over and over, in a maddeningly slow rhythm.
Rachel knew this was driving the boy mad. Yet he knew better than to move his hips without permission.
“You’re leaking so much, you must really need to cum, hmm?”
She considered for a moment just doing this until he broke, for hours if need be, until he couldn’t take it anymore and began to hump her hand like a desperate bitch in heat. The thought made her heart flutter, pushing the boy to his breaking point, until he was sobbing with frustration and fighting his body’s instinct to move. Every fiber in his body, every neuron in his brain screaming at him to thrust, to buck his hips, to give in to his instincts.
She would love seeing just how obedient he could be and for how long, only to delight in punishing him for failing her obviously rigged game.
Yet as fun as that would be, it would be counter productive.
Obedience could not be forced. Fear was learned, but love was earned. An animal could easily be taught to fear something. They would do as they were told out of fear of punishment. Anyone could get a boy to do what they wanted them to do simply out of fear of punishment.
However, to get a boy to do what you wanted, not out of fear but out of love, that was the real achievement. When a time came where the boy didn’t even remember what punishments were, when he had been such a good boy for such a long time he couldn’t even remember anything else, that was the dream that Rachel had held in her heart for so long. She dreamed of the day he would be the perfect obedient pet simply because in his eyes she was his perfect, loving Goddess.
For now though, in his eyes, she still saw defiance - no matter how he tried to hide it. Yet that wasn’t all she saw. There was something else there, deep down, so deep that the boy might not even realise it was there yet. Deep down he was slowly, very slowly, falling in love with her.
One day she knew Ryan would wake up and not remember his old life at all. He would be scared, afraid, but she would be there. Strict, but comforting. Slowly she would replace all his old memories with love for her, and she would be his entire world.
Her lips curled in an evil grin.
For a few moments she gripped his cock tightly, stroking it in earnest, and the boy’s knees buckled. He managed to correct himself, but couldn’t help but let out an almost girlish whimper.
“You really have been a very, very good boy Ryan.” She made sure to associate that overwhelming burst of pleasure in his mind with her words, infecting his vulnerable brain with her toxic praise when it was at its weakest. “And look at you, so obedient for me…”
He grimaced, hating that she was right. He hated this, hated it, hated it he told himself over and over - he didn’t really believe it. He was being obedient. He was doing exactly what she wanted. Stiff as a statue in more ways than one.
A sadistic thought occurred to her. Her lips curled wider as she reached down and began to very delicately tickle behind his balls with her nails.
Instantly Ryan’s eyes bugged out as he began to hyperventilate. His body twitched and shivered as her nails relentlessly yet oh-so-gently tickled his extremely sensitive balls, even more so given how long it had been since she had last allowed him to cum.
“So very, very sensitive… I can feel your cock throbbing!” She gasped with faux-surprise.
Ryan whined louder until it became an almost wordless scream. He had to cum. Had to thrust. It tickled so much. He couldn’t take it another second. But if he did… she wouldn’t let him. If he moved… she would be upset. He didn’t want to make Mommy- no, Rachel upset. No… no, it was wrong. It was all wrong. He just didn’t want to be punished. He wasn’t trying to make her happy, he didn’t want to obey her, he just…
Didn’t want to lose his reward, his reward for being such a good boy for Mommy…
She was staring into his eyes, reading his every expression, every twitch of every muscle… and let go of his cock at the last possible moment.
“I am very proud of you, Ryan.” She leaned forwards suddenly and kissed him, her thick, soft lips pressing against his.
He froze in place, before he gave out entirely, melting into her kiss and sobbing against her body. She held him close, breathing in his submission like a drug, hardly able to control herself.
“I love you very much Ryan. I only want what is best for you. I want you to be happy. When you are a good boy, you will be rewarded.”
Suddenly her hand was on him, stroking his cock, as her other hand reached around to press against his lower back gently, encouraging him to thrust.
“That’s it. Let Mommy milk your sore balls, you must have so much cum stored up in there…” She soothingly whispered directly into his ear as her fingers began to mercilessly milk his drooling cock.
Ryan rested with his chin on her massive shoulder, taking in heaving breaths as she began to scour the head of his cock with her thumb with every stroke, running it over his slit up and down with each pass.
“That’s it, such a good boy for Mommy. I’ve seen the progress you’ve been making. I’m so proud of you.” She poured her unrelenting praise into his ear, coating his mind in sweet pink honey. “You don’t talk back. You do as you’re told. You don’t even need to be told to do your chores anymore.”
She stroked faster, lips against his ear as she murmured her droning, hypnotic praise.
“You don’t want to fight Mommy anymore, do you? You don’t want to resist. You know it’s pointless to resist me. You know you just want to be Mommy’s good boy. Why keep fighting? Why not just give in? Doesn’t it feel so good to just give in to Mommy?”
She began to gently squeeze his balls with her free hand, feeling the bubbling frustration welling within them and biting her lip with joy now Ryan was well distracted. The rush, the thrill of having a boy so needy for her, so easily controlled and manipulated.
Ryan wouldn’t have believed her if she told him, but she was almost as incredibly aroused as he was. Almost.
“Do you want to fuck Mommy’s hand? Do you like humping her fingers like a horny little boy?” She teased, licking his ear lavishly. “You love fucking Mommy’s hand. You love it when Mommy milks you like this. You love it when she makes you squirt, squirt all your cummies…”
Ryan was drooling onto her shoulder now, eyes rolling in his head as he mindlessly thrusted into her milking grip. Her words soaked into his vulnerable psyche like a sponge. Of course given how she constantly edged him, keeping him forever desperate for orgasm, when he did finally get to cum it was totally overwhelming. The very fact that his orgasms were so powerful, and came only from her touch, was a very powerful tool for her to shape and mould him.
She squeezed her hand a little tighter around his cock, feeling it throb and buck in her grip.
“That’s it, milk yourself for me. Show Mommy just how much you love her.” She gloated, french kissing his ear and practically rewriting his thoughts directly with her tongue. “Every time you cum for me it shows me just how much you love being my good little boy.”
Ryan let out a guttural groan. He hated it. Hated her. Hated that she controlled his pleasure, that if he wanted to cum it would be on her terms, and that he would be proving her right.
But it had been so long, and he needed it so badly. He just wanted to cum. That wasn’t surrendering to her, he unconvincingly told himself. It wasn’t giving in. She was forcing him to do this - he said, as he eagerly fucked her hand like a horny beast, desperate to cum.
He wanted to cum. He needed to cum. If he was good, he would get to cum. The best way to do that was to obey her, and do as she said. If he was a good boy for her, he would get to cum. He wasn’t really obeying her. He was tricking her. Tricking her into letting him cum, even though deep down he would never, ever give in.
It was hardly convincing. His fragile and battered masculinity feebly tried to protest, but every slick, vigorous thrust of his cock into her fingers, and every irresistible word she spoke, was like a hammer blow to his pride.
He desperately tried to convince himself he was still himself. Still his own man. Yet here he was, bucking his hips into her milking fingers like a desperate little boy for her - exactly as she wanted.
“You’re going to cum for me.” She whispered breathily. “You’re going to cum for Mommy. Mommy is going to make you cum and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She began to move her hand, milking his cock fervently as he thrusted, matching his thrusts with her strokes.
“You can’t resist it. You can’t fight it. Mommy is going to make you cum, and when you do, it means you want Mommy to control you.”
He whined into her shoulder, warring with himself internally. She always did this. She was so crushingly controlling. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t turning him on even more.
“Are you even trying to fight it anymore? Are you trying not to cum? Or have you already given up?” She taunted, licking his cheek, savouring the tears that flowed so freely. “I remember you used to fight it, fight me for so long. Even when I offered to let you cum you would refuse.”
She shuddered breathily at that memory, and compared it to the boy in her arms now.
“Now look at you. Eagerly fucking away at my hand. So desperate to cum…”
Rachel felt his cock throbbing as he began to whine louded and louder. She sped up her strokes, milking him faster and faster until-
She let go.
Ryan kept thrusting his hips. It took him a few thrusts until he realised her touch was no longer there.
“MMMMNNUUUH!” He squealed into her shoulder, tugging at his arms restrained behind his back.
“Such a good, good boy.” She soothed, kissing his neck as she let him flail his cock in the air for a few moments. “Oh my, you were so close to cumming…”
“MMMH! MMM-MMMH!” He screamed into her shoulder, so needy, so unbelievably close.
“If my good boy wants to cum he needs to ask politely.”
Ryan couldn’t stop bucking his hips even though there was nothing there. It felt like jumping up to reach something on a shelf but it was just out of reach, no matter how hard he tried.
“Come on, be a good boy. Use your words.” She clutched at her own dress, a wave of pleasure flooding through her, a throbbing ache in her pussy at having edged him so effectively. She was getting so good at reading his reactions now she was sure she could have edged him for hours, days even.
“M-mommy…” he mumbled, but his throat hitched as something held him back.
“Ask me like a good boy, and Mommy will let you cum.” She promised, viciously beaming a smile into his eyes.
She held him by the shoulders, holding him upright as his hips kept bouncing, rolling in place, his adorable male instincts telling him to rut, to breed, to fuck.
It was almost more than she could take. Her body was so flushed. She felt a trickle of sweat between her breasts.
“Mommy. P-pluh-lease. Please.” He whined.
“Please what?”
Ryan wept at the unfairness of it all. It was so hard. Why was it so hard. Why did it have to be so unfair? Why?
“Please!” He begged.
“Please what?” She asked, her breathing shallow as her excitement grew.
Ryan wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t. He’d been letting her win. He’d been letting her control him out of fear.
It had been fear. He’d just been afraid. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want her. He hated her. He hated this. I hate it I hate it I hate it.
His lips quivered as the tears fell.
I don’t want to her pet. I don’t want to be her good little boy. I only obeyed because she would punish me. I didn’t want it.
She watched as if she could read his thoughts behind his eyes. This was her favourite moment. Seeing the boy’s psyche crumble apart. Seeing him fighting with himself. Dangling his reward just out of reach, forcing his mind to accept her control.
She gently stroked a single finger under his cock, running it from the base to the tip, collecting the thick precum that drooled from it and then coating his cock with it as it ran back down.
Not for the first time Rachel nearly came just from watching Ryan’s internal struggle, watching his horny little body shiver and ache.
He wasn’t really giving in. This wasn’t surrender. This was no different than a prisoner eating the food they were given.
He didn’t love her. He couldn’t.
I don’t love her, a tiny voice in his head tried to say.
“Please.” He whispered, before he broke. “Please! Please Mommy make me cum! Please milk my cock! I’ll be a good boy I’ll be good please make me cum I want to cum so much! Please please please Mommy!”
“Good boy.” She almost whimpered herself, as she felt her thighs clench in ecstasy.
Immediately she pulled the boy towards her and began to stroke him again. This time she was relentless. Merciless. He could feel it. This was no tease, no edging ploy. She was going to make him cum and there was nothing he could do to stop her. He couldn’t resist. He couldn’t fight it. She was going to force him to cum whether he wanted to or not.
She would squeeze her forefinger and thumb together tightly as they passed over his head, only to rub so gratifyingly as they passed back down over it. All the while, she reinforced all of those delightfully submissive thoughts in his head.
“Good boy. Cum for me. Cum. Cum for me like the good boy you are. Cum and surrender. Cum and give in to Mommy. Cum. Cum for Mommy. Cum for your Mommy. Squirt your surrender into my hands.”
Ryan couldn’t have held back even if he had tried. No matter how he loathed her relentless babytalk, no matter how she framed his orgasm as surrender to her will, he couldn’t possibly have withstood her incredible handjob. Even if he hadn’t spent days being edged and denied she could easily force him to cum any time she wanted, and she wanted him to cum now.
“Give in. Stop fighting. Cum for me.”
Ryan felt his orgasm roar through his body, heat on top of heat building across his shoulders as his stomach tightened and his throat burned as he screamed. His cum jetted out, painting the front of her black dress in rope after rope of thick, needy cum.
His body shook as he collapsed against her, and she instantly caught him, holding him close and helping him ride through his incredibly powerful orgasm.
All that mattered in those moments was that he felt her holding him. That he knew he was safe with her. That on the deepest, most fundamental and instinctual level he thought of her as the core of his world.
“That’s it. Such a good boy. Such a very good boy. I love you so much, Ryan. I love you.”
She spoke directly to his mind as, in the afterglow of an overwhelming orgasm, he could do nothing to resist her words.
“You’ve been such a good boy for me. You deserve to be happy. I want you to be a happy little boy. Forever and ever.”
Ryan cried, really cried. His frustration turned to joy, which turned to guilt, which turned to fear. He could feel it. He could feel the betrayal. In his post-orgasmic clarity he remembered so clearly his early defiance, how she had crushed his rebellious streak so easily… and yet how he had sworn he would never give in to her. Never surrender the one thing she couldn’t take.
“Shhh.” She soothed, running her hand through his hair. In moments like this, when he was vulnerable, all that mattered to her was him. “It’s okay. Mommy’s here.”
He wept into her chest. Every time she did this, every time she made him cum, it always felt like he was giving up.
Slowly, though, that had lost its sting. He didn’t feel so guilty anymore. He told himself he was a prisoner accepting something he needed, but that didn’t explain why he stared at her so longingly. It didn’t explain why he saw her smile every time he closed his eyes. Why she occupied his every dream and every waking moment.
Rachel gasped silently as she felt Ryan cuddle closer to her, his arms bound behind himself he nuzzled his face into her body, just a little.
“I don’t love her.” He told himself.