Can’t get enough of daddy

Mufasa’s hunger doesn’t turn off. It’s not a wave. It’s a constant hum—just under the surface—all day, every day. Every time he’s alone, his hands wander. Not even to finish… just to feel. To imagine. To replay every word I’ve said to him, every look I’ve given him, every time I’ve reminded him exactly who he belongs to.

He never thought this would be him. Didn’t think he’d ever crave a man’s control. Didn’t think he’d need it. But here he is.

Obsessing. Submitting. Touching himself just to feel close to me. And it’s not just lust. It’s deeper than that.

It’s mental. Emotional. Chemical. I’ve gotten into his head—rewired what turns him on, what makes him ache, what makes him feel complete.

Now he doesn’t even question it. He just sinks into it. Because being mine doesn’t just turn him on… it defines him!!