Just Once… Turned Into Always

Mufasa said he just wanted to try it once. Said he’d only fantasized about serving — whispered that he wasn’t really a submissive, not really that kind of boy. And now? He’s in pink panties and a short little skirt, spinning for me like the good girl he swore he’d never become.

Blushing. Hard. Moaning softly as he shows off. Telling me how pretty he feels. How right it is. How he wishes he was already in my lap, legs spread, mouth full, brain gone.

He’s not pretending anymore. That tough talk? Gone. The resistance? Melted. Now he’s just Mufasa — my Muslim slut, my soft little toy, aching to be used, praised, and put in his place.

“I want to be your good girl, Daddy,” he whispered.

You are, baby.

You are.