Never say never

Mufasa is doing things for me he never imagined he would.

Showing his face. Bouncing that ass. Swallowing his own cum.

And loving every second of it.

His need to serve me—to belong to me—has completely taken over his mind.And nothing proves it more than what he did next.

He bought panties. The kind he swore he’d never wear.

“The risk is too high,” he kept saying. “I have nowhere to hide them. I can’t get caught with them.” And for a Muslim man like him, he was right—getting caught in those would ruin everything.

But the need was stronger than the fear.

Watching all my other boys flaunt their little slutty pairs broke him down completely. And so he gave in.

He slipped them on—tight, soft, humiliating—and posed in front of the mirror.

Snapped photo after photo.

Each one worse.

Each one better.

Until finally, he sent them to me. Face flushed. Body trembling.

Pathetically proud, painfully turned on. Because I’ve taken over his mind. He can’t fight it anymore. He doesn’t want to.

He lives to be my mindless little Muslim fucktoy—

Pretty, submissive, and dressed up just how I like him.

So wrong. But he’s never felt more right.