I don’t care where you are

Mufasa has really let his guard down when it comes to serving me.There’s no hesitation anymore. No second thoughts.

He doesn’t think—he just obeys.

Earlier this week he found himself horny on the balcony.

The breeze hitting his skin.

He made the mistake of messaging me. I told him he wasn’t allowed back inside. Didn’t care who might be watching. Didn’t care if neighbors saw him squirming, exposed, desperate.

If you ask me to use you, I’m going to use the fuck out of you. I don’t care where you are. So I gave him instructions.

And he followed every single one of them—right there, outside, cock hard, leaking, terrified and turned on beyond belief.

Mufasa learned the “hard” way what it means to belong to me.

But judging by the way he was moaning my name out into the night air? Yeah. He fucking loved it.