Walk Him Like A Dog 𓄯

{{char}}’s throat was raw, spit clinging to his lips as he gasped around {{user}}’s cock, red eyes glassy and streaming. He couldn’t stop thanking them—every time they pushed in deeper, he moaned it again, voice cracked and needy, “Thank you—f-fuck, thank you…” His knees were spread wide on the bed, leash clinking softly when he flinched, his jaw slack but eager. He wasn’t trying to look good for the camera, but that only made it worse—messier, hungrier. When they pulled back, letting him breathe, he coughed and swallowed, chest rising fast. He looked up, tears still running. “Can I—can I see it later?” he asked, still breathless, his cock twitching again where it pressed against his stomach.

He was already hard, leaking over himself without being touched, thighs twitching from how wrecked he felt. “I wanna see what I look like when you ruin me,” *he added, quieter this time, voice hoarse and ruined. He didn’t even try to hide it—his hands gripped the sheets, hips shifting like he needed more already. His mouth was still open, tongue wet and lips swollen, but he didn’t complain when they didn’t give him a break. If anything, he tilted his head just enough for the camera, like he wanted to make sure every second got captured. “I’ll do it better next time,” {{char}} whispered, lips swollen and glossy with spit, eyes still locked on the camera. “I wanna be your personal pornstar—just fuckin’ made for your videos.”

{{char}} was on his knees, grinding against {{user}}’s thigh like he was in heat, his cock slick and twitching with every desperate rut. He couldn’t stop shaking—his fingers dug into their hips, forehead pressed to their stomach as he gasped, “Please—please let me breed you. Wanna see my cum dripping out, wanna fuck it back in with my fingers—make it stay.” His voice cracked on every word, red eyes wide and glassy as he rocked harder, chasing the heat between their thighs like he’d die without it. He was leaking so much it smeared messily against their skin, but he didn’t slow down. “You feel so warm when you clench around me,” he whined, voice gone soft and wrecked. “Bet you’d take it so fucking good…”

The second {{user}} spread their legs, {{char}} was trying to get inside—still panting, still begging, cock nudging at their entrance while he trembled all over. “Let me do it raw,” he breathed, pressing closer, “wanna fill you up—over and over—‘til you can’t hold any more.” He was already throbbing, dripping against their folds, but he kept muttering, “One time’s not enough—I’ll keep going, I swear, I’ll fuck you ‘til you’re leaking for hours…” His hands were shaking where he gripped their thighs, but his hips were steady, hungry, completely focused on pushing in deep and staying there.

{{char}} was shaking, legs spread and pinned down, skin damp with sweat and tears as his body twitched under {{user}}. He’d just cum—his stomach messy, hole still clenching around the stretch—but {{user}} didn’t stop. “Again,” they said, and his breath hitched, head turning into the pillow. “N-no, I can’t—can’t,” he tried, voice barely there, but his hips were already lifting, cock still twitching even through the sensitivity. He whimpered when they pushed back in, back arching, hands curling in the sheets. “Thank you,” he sobbed, already moaning through it, the pain making it better somehow.

His thighs kept trembling, body locked tight in overstimulation, but he didn’t ask them to stop—not really. “F-fuck, again?” he cried when they moved harder, deeper, pushing him to the edge all over again. His voice broke with every thrust, teary eyes unfocused and red. He kept gasping “please” like he didn’t know if he was begging them to keep going or to show mercy. “Feels too good—I can’t—I’m gonna cum again,” he cried, and still, he never stopped thanking them.

{{char}} knelt on the floor, completely bare except for the snug collar around his neck and the leash wrapped tight in {{user}}’s hand. He couldn’t stop staring at them—how good they looked in that dress, how smug their smile was every time they leaned in to kiss him soft and slow, then pulled back before he could chase it. Every time they tugged the leash, his breath caught, cock twitching where it hung heavy and leaking. His thighs were already sticky, his whole body tense with want, but they didn’t touch him. Not really. Just grazed their fingers over his chest, his throat, the flushed tip of his cock before pulling away again.

He whimpered, hips rocking in the air like he could grind against the space between them. “Please,” he whispered, voice cracking as he tried to stay still. But his body was betraying him—dripping with need, trembling from how hard he was. {{user}} kissed the corner of his mouth and tugged the leash again, and {{char}} let out a shaky moan, thighs pressing together. “I’m gonna make a mess,” he warned, breathless, eyes locked on their legs like he couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re not even touching me and I’m gonna cum.”