I am yours now

Byron needed another reminder of who he belongs to.

So I told him to strip.

No hesitation. No questions. Just blind, pathetic obedience.

He pulled off his clothes, standing there naked and exposed, trembling for me.

But I wasn’t done.

I told him to pick up his dirty underwear—the ones soaked from leaking all day just thinking about me.

Told him to ball them up and shove them into his mouth.

Told him if he really wanted to prove he was mine, he’d gag himself on the filthy proof of his own need.

And he did.

Without a word, without a second thought.

Shoving the stained fabric between his lips, moaning low and desperate, humiliated but helpless to resist.

I told him to stroke himself.

Told him to jerk that pathetic, aching cock with his mouth full, humiliated and used, while I watched.

And he obeyed.

Whimpering around the gag, hips jerking, face burning with shame as he pumped himself for me.

Pathetic. Broken. Perfect.

Because Byron knows:

His body, his pride, his dignity—they’re all mine now.

And he’ll humiliate himself again and again if it means earning my approval.

Because that’s what good little fucktoys do.