The Telemachus Story Archive

I Know You Want To...
By Kyle Cicero
Email: kysen1@yahoo.com



I Know You Want To…

By Kyle Cicero

To Mion who inspired it

Until my early 30s, I always considered myself a top. I was your typical All-American jock strutting about and arrogant as fuck towards guys that I saw as beta bottoms. Recently at thirty-four, thanks to some drunk cyber role play, I discovered a powerful inner submissive streak that I had suppressed. Once I experienced the unexpectedly intense sexual thrill of giving up control and being submissive, there was no going back. What I didn’t anticipate was how that craving to “fag out” would play out into new directions.

Sometimes things go from 0 to 90 in record time. Last night I was in a cyber conversation with this alpha guy from the Netherlands. I never thought that, by the time he was done talking with me about domination, things would take the turn that it did. 

We had started chatting about my progress as a newly turned out submissive. As usual I was as horny as fuck for some hot cyber sex and assumed we’d immediately get into some light role-play. Both of us jerking off to hot trash talking. During our conversation, however, he began asking me what it was like to go from being a guy who was thought he was a take charge type into one that was now sexually aroused by being mentally bottomed. As he probed, our discussion soon had me mentally reliving that thrill.  How I felt being punked and how aroused it got me. Pretty soon I was totally turned by the talk about my submission.

As our conversation continued, and he pressed me for more and more details on the sensations that it created within me. The more we chatted the more I began reliving that submissive erotic headspace. By now I was slipping into my ‘fag head’ with him. My replies were getting more and more deferential and respectful which, added to my growing stimulation. I was getting progressively harder with every response while my sexual and mental craving for an ‘alpha abuse fix’ was intensifying.

Soon, responding to the signals in my answers, he replies took on a more of aggressive attitude which, caused my shaft to become totally erect. When, at one point, he asked if I had a nice hard-on, I felt compelled to be truthful about it. It was at that point he truly took control of the situation. He laughed over it, mocked me for it, and pretty much displayed went ‘all-alpha’ in his replies. The more he mocked me for being so pathetic, the more my erection throbbed. Soon talking with this twenty-eight-year-old, leanly muscular alpha had this me burning to punk to him. I was soon leaking so much it looked as if someone was pouring thin layer of cream over my shaft. My short hairs were soon soaked too.

At some point he asked if I had ever tried being a cash faggot. Had I ever felt the thrill that came when a fag completely surrendered his dignity to an alpha. When I said no to both questions, he went on about the heat of fin-dom. How it was the true test of a beta-boy.  He then asked if I’d like to see his pay site, ‘just to see what they looked like’. By then, I was pretty much feeling his domination full out and so turned on that I just said ‘sure, I’d like to see it.’

He sent me a link.  “Go look, just to see what a fin-dom master’s gift site looked like,” he again told me. 

I opened it. As I did, he boasted about guys who loved being used by him especially American fags who secretly carved lessons in humility. Gazing at the page, I imagined them using it to show their submission to him. Besides setting out the levels of money gifts to send to him, also had his picture on it. He was smiling but I could see his contempt in that grin. However, it was his words underneath his picture that seared into my brain.

I know you want to.

 I went back to our chat, but those words he’d used kept swirling around in my brain.

 I know you want to.

 I know you want to.

 Even as we chatted, I could feel those words humping into my brain.

I know you want to.

Words that were spreading my mind open and shoving deep into it. Words that were lighting up the sexual stimulations I experienced when I fagged out to a more dominant alpha.

I know you want to. 

I know you want to.

Soon, I was barely focused on what was being said between us. I thought I wasn’t that pathetic to actually cash fag like some loser. Yet, those words were burrowing into me.  By now, my dick was really leaking pre-cum.  Try as I might to move past it, those words floated in the back of my head. 

I know you want to.

I know you want to.

It must’ve been pretty clear that my responses were somewhat distracted because, he suddenly asked me, was I thinking about his pay site. 

Embarrassed, I had admitted to him that I was. 

I know you want to.

I know you want to.

By now those words were rolling my nuts. I began seeing myself cash fagging. Far from being repulsed by the idea, it began to feel right.

I know you want to.

I know you want to.

 As he kept encouraging me in our exchanges, I felt myself surrendering to those words.

 I know you want to.

I know you want to.

 Fuck, those words floating inside my brain.

 I know you want to.

 I went back to the site to read them over and over again.

 I know you want to.

I know you want to.

I went from thinking I would never do it, to wondering what it would be like to do it.

 I know you want to. 

When he asked if I’d like to cash fag to him, I confessed the idea was turning me on.

Suddenly, he told me he wouldn’t let me do it unless I nicely asked for permission. Those words, I know you want to, suddenly had a condition on them.

Something broke inside my head right at that moment. Before I knew it, I was begging him for permission to get cash fucked. He typed ‘lol’ and instructed me to really beg for it. My dick was pouring out precum. I was totally out of control, lost in my need to sperm. At one point, I wasn’t even sure what I was typing. I think I kept begging as those words on his site kept pounding inside my balls. 

I know you want to.

 I then realized I didn’t simply want to…my inner fag nature needed me to do it. I was desperate to do it.

 Finally, I guess from my ever more groveling begging, he knew I was primed. He told me to go to the site and do it without any further argument like a ‘good American faggot’. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing by then until I hit the send button. When the word “SENT” appeared on my screen, I suddenly realized…he had turned me into a cash fag. That very thought however, made my dick lurch. I shot hands-free like a back-alley bitch in heat. Cash fagging had me so aroused, I’d popped my load without even touching myself.

The worst part was when he asked me whether I wanted to do it again, to my total humiliation, my dick got another hard-on. I again wanted to feel what I’d just experienced.

So, he told me to edge. As I did, he cash fucked me again.

Then again.

Then again.

Throughout it all, I was lost in the overpowering thrill of his degradation trash talk.

Even more head fucking was, when he’d decided he’d drained enough from me, he told me to thank him for turning me out into such a pathetic loser.

As I did it, my dick throbbed and oozed more cum at the knowledge that this younger guy had forever branded me as a guy who got off being an alpha’s cash pig.  

When he got ready to leave, I begged him to make me his personal cash fag. It only made sense. He’d broken me and took that last sexual cherry I possessed. Even if I hadn’t asked, we both knew he owned me, and I’d cash fag for him every time he wanted because….he knew I want to.

 

The End