Page 1

My gf is asleep next to me on the couch. Marlin Gunther steps out of his room wearing only a pair of briefs way too small for him. The big fat bulge cradled in the stretched fabric moves with every step. The threads are about to rip apart. He's holding a silver bell in his hand. I know what's about to happen and do nothing to stop him. He whips his wrist. A sharp, clear ding. My mind shatters. The man I am lets go of the controls, and something desperate, raw, and insatiable takes over. I'm still in the cockpit, but now just as a silent observer. Yes, I'm cucking my own mind.

Page 2

This is not the first time. This occurs every single day. Sometimes twice a day, often times more. Marlin Gunther calls it "Breeding Time." An unfiltered lust ignites when he says those words. My thoughts dissolve into a single, primal need. My mouth starts watering. 

Page 3

The bell’s ring fades, but the command remains, seared into my nerves. I don’t think. I move. The television drones on. My knees hit the floor before I even consciously decide to kneel. This is my place. This is my purpose. I look up at Marlin Gunther and then down at the large bulge. Nothing else exists. The world is this room, and my desperate, aching need to serve his massive beautiful cock.
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Page 4

He doesn’t speak. He never needs to. My fingers hook onto the waistband of his briefs. My heart hammers against my ribs. I pull them down. My brain splits open. It springs free, a thick, veined pillar of flesh, large, thick, meaty, swaying heavily before my eyes. I hanging meat slab. I'm so close to it that it brushes against my face. It’s unbelievable. I’ts always a shock to my system. Every inch a testament to brutal, perfect masculinity. It sways before my eyes, a hypnotic pendulum. The sheer sight of it short-circuits my higher reasoning. I want cock. And I fucking want it now.

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Page 5

I don’t wait for permission. I lunge forward, my mouth opening wide. I take the broad, smooth head into my mouth, tasting his pre-cum, and I stretch my lips around his girth. The first touch of his plump pink head against my lips sends a jolt through me. I suckle, my tongue tracing the thick, pulsing vein underneath. I suck it deep, my tongue flattening against the pulsing underside. I hollow my cheeks, working my head back and forth. I take him as far as I can, my throat stretching, gagging, then relaxing. I suck it with devotion I possess for nothing else. Saliva drips down my chin. I feel him sliding over my tongue, filling my throat. The sounds are obscene. I love it.

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Page 6

He pulls himself from my mouth with a wet pop. I’m gasping, dizzy. He manhandles me effortlessly, turning me onto my hands and knees. I feel the blunt, slick head of Marlin Gunther’s dick press against my tight hole. I feel him throb at my entrance. He applies pressure, a relentless, unforgiving force. I gasp as my body yields, stretched wide open in one brutal, perfect thrust. He sheathes himself completely inside me. I am impaled, speared, owned by his incredible girth. I'm no longer able to keep any sense of manliness anymore, the delicious pain and excrutiating pleasure are too much for me to keep inside. My face contorts shamelessly and I let out a grunting moan: "OOoooOOOooOoOoOoOo!!!!"

Page 7

He fucks me with a relentless, punishing force. Each deep thrust drives the air from my lungs. I am nothing but a vessel for his pleasure. The slap of his skin against mine fills the room, drowning out the TV, it's disgusting. He holds my hips, controlling me, using me. He fucks me so good, so deep, so hard. He hits my hot spot with every plunge, sending electric shocks of pure pleasure through my shattered nerves. My vision blurs. Every nerve ending is on fire, screaming for more. Deeper. Harder.

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Page 8

The initial burn has melted into a overwhelming fullness. I love feeling him stretch me wide open. I force my flesh to accept every inch of him. With every inward plunge, I feel the incredible girth, the painful, perfect stretch that borders on agony but is pure ecstasy. I am split apart on his cock, and I’ve never felt more complete. I push back against him, wanting to be stretched more, wanting to be ruined. I feel every inch, every thick vein, every pulse as he moves within me. I am reshaped from the inside, molded perfectly to fit him. This stretch is my purpose.

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Page 9

He angles himself, and the world dissolves. He hits depths I never thought another man would explore. Each deep, grinding thrust touches a place deep in my core, a place that ignites a blinding, white-hot pleasure. A place so deep inside me it feels like he’s touching my soul. A spot that ignites a pleasure so intense it’s almost terrifying. He pistons into my depths, again and again, shattering my thoughts. My eyes roll back. A broken sob escapes me. It’s a profound, internal claiming. Marlin Gunther isn’t just fucking me; he is reaching into the very essence of my being, shattering my sanity with each perfect, devastating impact.

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Page 10

His rhythm falters. His thrusts become jagged, deeper, possessive. A guttural groan rumbles from his chest. I feel him swell, pulsing impossibly larger inside me. This is it. I love love love he cums inside me. A hot, torrential flood erupts deep within my bowels, jet after jet of his thick, gooey seed. The feeling triggers my own orgasm. I clench around him and with a loud groan, my tiny dick spasms, dripping pathetically between my legs. This is a woman’s pleasure. I know what it feels like to be be utterly filled by an alpha male. My quivering hole milks every last drop from his alpha balls, feeling the warmth spread inside me. I am claimed. I am filled. I am bred.

Page 11

He pulls out, leaving me empty and dripping onto the carpet. The bell sits silent on the side table. The haze lifts. I take back control. I am just me again, slumped over the couch, my body aching and used. I feel the warm, sticky proof of Marlin Gunther’s pleasure leaking from my well-stretched hole. My own small, limp dick is wet with my shame. He walks away without a word, back to his room. I am left in the silent living room, a hollowed-out shell. But it wasn't really ME was it? I wasn't in control. I don't have to feel guilty.