viewfinder short stories

Find me in your dreams

A/N im back my loves i'd like to dedicate this to akhell1995  😘

update: added this to this book instead

I find myself in a room absolutely alone, sitting on the edge of a bed, and as it happens in dreams, the premonition of something inevitable, frightful and insurmountable is already nagging at the back of my mind. The rasping sound of a key in the door startles me, stirs up the sensation of the inner fatalistic alarm even more: into the room comes him, he quietly approaches the bed and sits down next to me.

In a low sonorous voice he tells me: "Your appeal has been rejected, and you are to be taken by me forever". I feel frozen by the sentence, trying to press out of my vocal cords a hint of protest but to no avail because of a lump in my throat. He tenderly takes my hand and brings it to his manhood, slowly unzipping his fly. He doesn't need to say anything extra, he doesn't have to nudge my body or head towards the ultimate source of his male force. He knows the power of his manhood - all that he does is just to casually unzip his fly, unfasten his belt and slowly take out his powerful "IT", guiding my hand to touch it, confidently knowing that the sight and the touch alone would be enough to break my will, take away protection and resistance, send the embarrassing shivers all over my body, implant in my mind the total shameful inevitability of giving my total male self to another man, abandoning all my man's power of volition. This simple demonstration is enough to deliver the shockwave-sending verdict: "You will be possessed by another man and imbued with his male will and power completely from the inside out, and it is as inevitable as destiny, it's started to happen."

My gaze is shamefully riveted to his manhood against my own will, and the hot touch of it to my hand sends the electric waves through my hand all over my body that start draining my resistance. I'm instinctively trying to resist this invisible overpowering force, at the same time feeling inside that the loss of this fight is inevitable in front of this wall of masculine sexual might.

I, with electric shivers rippling down my spine, apologetically touch his "IT" with my lips, trying to placate the master with caress and avoid him taking total possession of me and stripping me of all my male self and freewill, yet subliminally this sense of inevitability of having to give myself to this man never goes.

Driven by this forlorn hope to earn a pardon from the total defeat, I warmly and cozily wrap my lips and the velvety blanket of my tongue around his manhood, and start slowly sucking on it as gently as a baby suckling at its mother's breast. I feel the acute shameful embarrassment of my erection, but not the erection brought on by my male force, but by the invisible humiliating power emanating from the source of master's manhood, streaming in waves of shivers through my body, disarming and subjugating it.

I start feeling the paralyzing taste of his pre-cum, the light pre-orgasmic shivers going through his body and almost whispering gasps, which fetters what little left of my male freewill and strength of resistance even more. The subliminal sensation of the implacable fate is gradually infusing every fibre of my being, the predestined design dictating against my will that my supplicating caress - my only form of resistance left to delay and avoid his ultimate possession of me - is only preparing his manhood for the act of taking all of my male self: my man's will, my man's strength and my man's honour. The acute embarrassment is nagging in my subconscious that I'm doomed to obediently help him prepare for taking me because not doing so would make him take me even sooner.

Yet I feel a false glimpse of hope that I will be able with a few more tender strokes of my tongue over his glans to beg him into releasing the liquid fire of his male power into my mouth, which would save me from the ultimate humiliation of turning totally into a girl and losing the last vestiges of my male self.