The world dissolved into a single, shattering point of sensation as Ansh buried himself to the hilt inside Rahul. A raw, guttural cry was torn from Rahul’s throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated feeling. For a moment, he could only cling to the floor, his body bowing under the overwhelming fullness, the exquisite stretch that bordered on pain but bloomed into the most profound pleasure he had ever known.
Before the aftershocks of that first thrust could even begin to fade, powerful hands gripped his hips. Ansh wasn’t finished. With a strength that made Rahul’s head spin, his Master pulled him up and back, forcing his trembling body upright until he was sitting flush against Ansh’s chest, impaled so deeply he could feel Ansh’s heartbeat thrumming through his own core.
“What…” Rahul gasped, disoriented, his head lolling back onto Ansh’s broad shoulder. His own cock, neglected and achingly hard, stood straight up against his stomach.
Ansh’s lips found his ear, his voice a dark, possessive whisper that vibrated through Rahul’s entire being. “You wanted to be my sissy. This is how my sissy takes her Master. You don’t just lie there. You work for it. You ride me.”
One of Ansh’s arms banded across Rahul’s chest, holding him secure, a steel bar of ownership. The other hand slid down his quivering abdomen, fingers splaying possessively across his belly, as if feeling the shape of himself buried deep within.
“Now,” Ansh commanded, his breath hot against Rahul’s neck. “Move.”
Tentatively, Rahul tried to lift himself. His muscles, liquid and weak with pleasure, protested. He managed a small, shaky inch upward, the drag of Ansh’s cock inside him sending sparks flying behind his eyelids. He sank back down with a choked sob, the sensation too intense, too much.
Ansh’s grip tightened. “I didn’t ask for a tease. I said ride me. Use those hips you wanted to dress in lace. Show me what they’re for.”
The order, the sheer dominance in the tone, ignited something primal in Rahul. A fresh wave of submission washed over him, quieting his fears and fueling his body with a desperate need to obey, to please. He braced his hands on Ansh’s powerful thighs and pushed himself up, higher this time, his back arching, until only the head of Ansh’s magnificent cock remained inside him. The cool air of the room kissed his wet, stretched entrance for a fleeting second.
Then he let his weight drop.
He fell back onto Ansh’s length with a force that stole his breath, a perfect, punishing friction that made him see stars. A low, approving groan rumbled from Ansh’s chest into his back.
“Yes. Again.”
Rahul found a rhythm, a brutal, breathtaking cadence of rising and falling. Up, his body crying out from the strain and the fleeting emptiness. Down, his soul shattering with the overwhelming fullness. He was a puppet on his Master’s cock, every bounce, every grind, dictated by the unyielding arm across his chest and the relentless, hypnotic voice in his ear.
Ansh’s free hand wandered from his belly, trailing down to wrap fingers around Rahul’s leaking erection. The touch was electric, a jolt of pure need. “My good sissy works so hard for her reward,” Ansh purred, his thumb smearing pre-cum over the sensitive head.
The dual sensations were pushing Rahul toward the edge too fast. The tight, milking heat of his own body around Ansh’s cock and the expert stroking of his own were a devastating combination. He was babbling, words tumbling out between ragged gasps. “Master… Ansh… I’m… I can’t…”
“You can,” Ansh growled, his own breathing becoming more ragged, his thrusts meeting Rahul’s bounces with increasing force. “You will. You’ll take everything I give you.”
Then, Ansh lowered his head. His lips found the sensitive skin where Rahul’s neck met his shoulder. It wasn't a kiss. It was a claiming. He sucked hard, the wet pressure a brand against Rahul’s feverish skin. The sharp, pleasant sting bloomed into a deep throb, syncing with the pounding rhythm of their joining.
Rahul’s mind went white. The pain-pleasure of the bite, the filthy, wet sounds of their bodies meeting, the gruff commands in his ear—it all coalesced into a feedback loop of utter submission. He was nothing but a vessel for his Master’s pleasure, a thing to be used and marked. The thought didn’t humiliate him; it liberated him. This was his purpose.
“You wish I was supreme, don’t you, my sissy?” Ansh murmured against the bruising skin, his teeth grazing the spot. “You wish you had no choice but to follow my every order, to be my perfect, pretty thing.”
“Yes!” Rahul cried out, the admission torn from him. “I wish it! I wish you were my everything! I’ll follow, I’ll obey, I’ll be whatever you want!”
His confession seemed to unleash something feral in Ansh. The hand on his cock tightened its pace, stroking in time with their frantic rhythm. The bites on his neck became more possessive, more frantic. Ansh’s hips pistoned upward, driving into Rahul with a power that stole all thought.
Rahul felt the coiling tension in his gut snap. His vision tunneled. A broken scream was ripped from his throat as his orgasm crashed over him, violent and all-consuming. His body seized, clamping down viselike around Ansh’s cock as ropes of his release shot over Ansh’s hand and onto his own stomach.
The intense, rhythmic clenching of Rahul’s body was all it took. With a final, deep, grinding thrust that pressed Rahul’s prostate exquisitely even through the aftershocks, Ansh followed him over. Rahul felt the hot, pulsing rush of his Master’s release filling him, a claiming so deep and intimate it felt like he was being remade from the inside out. Ansh’s roar of completion was a raw, animal sound of pure conquest against his ear.
For a long moment, they stayed locked together, both breathing in ragged, shuddering gasps. The only sounds were their panting and the slow, wet drip of their combined release. Spent, Rahul collapsed fully back against Ansh’s chest, completely boneless, held up only by his Master’s unwavering strength. He felt used, owned, and more content than he had ever been in his life.
Ansh’s arms encircled him, one still draped across his chest, the other, slick and sticky, resting on his thigh. He nuzzled the fresh bruise on Rahul’s neck, his voice a low, satisfied rumble.
“Look at you. My perfect, well-used sissy. Covered in my marks, filled with my cum.” He pressed a soft, almost tender kiss to the abused skin. “You did so well.”
The praise washed over Rahul, warmer than any blanket. He melted further into the embrace, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He was floating in a hazy, post-coital bliss, utterly consumed by the man behind him.
Ansh’s fingers began to trace idle, possessive patterns on his thigh. His voice dropped again, taking on a new, contemplative tone that sent a fresh—though different—shiver through Rahul’s oversensitive body.
“Such obedience deserves a reward… a proper one. A real one.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air. “Tomorrow, we go shopping. I think it’s time my sissy had a wardrobe that truly reflects her place."
Hope you are finding the story interesting. Keep reading at it holds new twists and turns..
