Mufasa’s secret devotion

When I told Mufasa to slide a pair of panties on under his clothes before heading to his friend’s house, he didn’t hesitate.

Not a second of resistance.

No questioning if it was too much.

Just instant obedience—that kind of devotion, the kind that makes even a disciplined Muslim boy blush at how far he’ll go for Daddy across the ocean.

The moment he arrived? His texts turned needy:

“I keep feeling them shift when I walk.”

“What if someone notices?”

As if I’d let him off that easy.

Instead, I made him slip away to the bathroom—locked door, shaky hands—and film himself peeling those panties down just enough to show me what real shame looks like: swollen cock trapped against lace, thighs tense from trying not to buck into his own touch when all he wants is my voice telling him exactly how filthy he is… while his friends laugh in the next room over like they aren't inches away from catching their "respectable" buddy mid-stroke.

By the time I let him come? Those panties were drenched—and so was his pride.

But here's the thing about good boys: they always come back for more… especially when they realize this is what they were born for.