They’re so cute when they cry, it’s like their tears are the ultimate aphrodisiac, making my dick hard and my mind hungry for more. The way they tremble, the way they beg for mercy, it’s like music to my ears, a symphony of submission that I just can’t get enough of.
I love how they try to put on a brave face, but I can see the fear in their eyes, the uncertainty, the doubt. It’s like they’re waiting for me to pounce, to unleash my wrath upon them, and when I do, oh boy, it’s like a dam has burst, and all their emotions come flooding out. The tears, the sobs, the pleas for forgiveness, it’s all just so deliciously entertaining.
I remember this one girl, she was so cute, so innocent, so naive. She thought she could stand up to me, thought she could outsmart me, but I showed her who’s boss. I humiliated her in front of her friends, made her cry like a baby, and oh man, it was glorious. The way she looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy, her face streaked with tears, it was like she was begging me to take her, to dominate her, to make her mine.
And I did, I took her, I dominated her, I made her mine. I fucked her like she was nothing, like she was a mere plaything, a toy to be used and discarded. And she loved it, she loved the way I treated her, the way I made her feel. She loved the humiliation, the degradation, the feeling of being completely and utterly under my control.
It’s not just about the sex, though, it’s about the power, the control, the dominance. It’s about being the one in charge, the one who calls the shots, the one who decides what happens next. And when they cry, when they beg, when they plead for mercy, it’s like they’re acknowledging my power, my superiority, my dominance.
I love how they try to resist, how they try to fight back, but it’s no use. I’m too strong, too powerful, too dominant. I always get what I want, and what I want is to see them cry, to see them beg, to see them submit. And when they do, oh boy, it’s like a rush, a high, a feeling of pure and unadulterated power.
I’ve had my fair share of conquests, my fair share of victims, and each and every one of them has been a thrill, a challenge, a test of my power and my dominance. And I’ve never lost, never failed, never been defeated. I’m the king, the master, the one and only, and they’re just my playthings, my toys, my slaves.
But it’s not just about the conquest, it’s about the journey, the process, the game. It’s about the cat and mouse, the chase, the hunt. It’s about outsmarting them, outmaneuvering them, outwitting them. It’s about being one step ahead, always, and they’re just pawns in my game, pawns to be used and discarded.
I love how they think they can outsmart me, how they think they can outwit me, but it’s no use. I’m too clever, too cunning, too smart. I always win, always come out on top, always get what I want. And what I want is to see them cry, to see them beg, to see them submit.
And when they do, oh boy, it’s like a rush, a high, a feeling of pure and unadulterated power. It’s like I’m on top of the world, like I’m invincible, like I’m the king of the universe. And they’re just my subjects, my slaves, my playthings, there to do my bidding, to obey my every command.
I remember this one time, I was in class, and this girl, she was so cute, so innocent, so naive. She thought she could answer a question, thought she could outsmart me, but I showed her who’s boss. I humiliated her in front of the whole class, made her cry like a baby, and oh man, it was glorious. The way she looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy, her face streaked with tears, it was like she was begging me to take her, to dominate her, to make her mine.
And I did, I took her, I dominated her, I made her mine. I fucked her like she was nothing, like she was a mere plaything, a toy to be used and discarded. And she loved it, she loved the way I treated her, the way I made her feel. She loved the humiliation, the degradation, the feeling of being completely and utterly under my control.
It’s not just about the sex, though, it’s about the power, the control, the dominance. It’s about being the one in charge, the one who calls the shots, the one who decides what happens next. And when they cry, when they beg, when they plead for mercy, it’s like they’re acknowledging my power, my superiority, my dominance.
I love how they try to resist, how they try to fight back, but it’s no use. I’m too strong, too powerful, too dominant. I always get what I want, and what I want is to see them cry, to see them beg, to see them submit. And when they do, oh boy, it’s like a rush, a high, a feeling of pure and unadulterated power.
I’ve had my fair share of conquests, my fair share of victims, and each and every one of them has been a thrill, a challenge, a test of my power and my dominance. And I’ve never lost, never failed, never been defeated. I’m the king, the master, the one and only, and they’re just my playthings, my toys, my slaves.
But it’s not just about the conquest, it’s about the journey, the process, the game. It’s about the cat and mouse, the chase, the hunt. It’s about outsmarting them, outmaneuvering them, outwitting them. It’s about being one step ahead, always, and they’re just pawns in my game, pawns to be used and discarded.
I love how they think they can outsmart me, how they think they can outwit me, but it’s no use. I’m too clever, too cunning, too smart. I always win, always come out on top, always get what I want. And what I want is to see them cry, to see them beg, to see them submit.
And when they do, oh boy, it’s like a rush, a high, a feeling of pure and unadulterated power. It’s like I’m on top of the world, like I’m invincible, like I’m the king of the universe. And they’re just my subjects, my slaves, my playthings, there to do my bidding, to obey my every command.
I’m the master of my domain, the king of my castle, and they’re just my loyal subjects, my faithful slaves. I’m the one who calls the shots, who makes the rules, who decides what happens next. And they’re just along for the ride, just along for the thrill, the excitement, the adventure.
And when they cry, when they beg, when they plead for mercy, it’s like music to my ears, a symphony of submission that I just can’t get enough of. It’s like they’re acknowledging my power, my superiority, my dominance, and it’s like a rush, a high, a feeling of pure and unadulterated power.
I love how they try to resist, how they try to fight back, but it’s no use. I’m too strong, too powerful, too dominant. I always get what I want, and what I want is to see them cry, to see them beg, to see them submit. And when they do, oh boy, it’s like a rush, a high, a feeling of pure and unadulterated power.
I’m the one and only, the king, the master, the dominant one. I’m the one who rules, who commands, who decides. And they’re just my playthings, my toys, my slaves, there to do my bidding, to obey my every command. And when they cry, when they beg, when they plead for mercy, it’s like music to my ears, a symphony of submission that I just can’t get enough of.