Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
His name was Daniel. He was devoted in the way that every part of him was constructed for my worship. He brought me coffee every morning. His hands trembled slightly, his eyes were already downcast in anticipation of my day. He kept my world in a perfect, silent order. It was too clean, though. That type of perfection is a vacuum and I am not a creature of neat spaces.
I chose Marcus for his crude vitality. Where Daniel was porcelain, Marcus was raw iron. I didn’t invite him over. Instead, I commanded Daniel to arrange it. The look on his face when I issued his instructions was priceless. “You will serve us drinks, you will address him as ‘Sir.’ Most importantly, you will watch.”
Devoted Daniel Gets Cucked
The night unfolded with a terrible, gilded grace. Marcus, thick-handed and laughing, dominated the room (but only because I allowed him to). Daniel moved like a ghost, using his tray a shield. His eyes were fixed on the Persian rug as if it held the patterns of his doom.
But I saw him glance. Just a flicker. A darting, agonized glance toward my mouth on Marcus’s and toward Marcus’s hand sliding up my thigh under the table. That flicker was everything. He watched as Marcus fucked me with his strong dick, as I moaned from multiple orgasms, and as we giggled at the absurd volume of cum that leaked out of my pussy afterwards.
When the front door closed behind Marcus, Daniel stood in the foyer looking like a statue of ruin. I walked past him and paused at the threshold of my bedroom. “Clean the glasses,” I said, not looking back. “Then you may sleep on the floor by my bed. You are no longer permitted on the mattress.”
He didn’t cry. He just nodded and began to gather the crystal we’d used. I heard the distant clink of a glass setting down, then that of a body sliding down the wall to the floorboards. A long, shuddering exhale. That sound. The opal of his adoration, finally, irrevocably shattered.
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