The Telemachus Story Archive

A Top Takedown: The Galatea Effect
By Kyle Cicero

A Top Takedown: The Galatea Effect

By Kyle Cicero

I was always fascinated by Greek myths. Let’s be honest, how many gay guys could see a stature Apollo and not think of doing it with him. Assuming he was real of course.

One that inspired my imagination was written by Roman poet Ovid, in his Metamorphoses. In it he wrote about Pygmalion, a sculptor, who carved an ivory statue representing his ideal of womanhood and then fell in love with his own creation. Venus, taking pity, or to teach him a lesson perhaps, brought it to life. I often wondered what happened after he and Galatea met.

Before you ask, IT’S FICTION. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar so, simply enjoy the story. Feedback would be nice too:

How We Connected

I like to bottom guys who never got fucked before. Let’s face it. Control and domination are fucking erotic! Usually, it involves seducing some guy who has never ‘given it up’ and taking his cherry. I’ll admit the challenge in doing it is a major cock throbbing thrill too. In this case however, it was also about head fucking a writer who had a ‘top rep’ into submission then, taking his butt. My goal was to get him so hot he yielded to me, squirted a story out about me, offered me authorship of the story and, even hotter, begged me to do him! Basically, I bent his mind over and fucked it so bad my writer creamed both a story and his load. Yeah, I got his ass too but, that’s not the best part of the story. Making him my bitch in mind and body without resorting to drinks, roofies, or Viagra was the real challenge. That made the hunt so sexually arousing.

Got it now. So, about that writer, here’s how it all went down!

He was a well-known cyber and print writer whose output I really liked. There was a lot of it of output too.  He was one of the most prolific authors and every story was a 10+.   His posted stories of erotic domination and submission hit my nuts every time and hard enough to bring my cock to full mast.  To be honest, it wasn’t my initial intent to ‘take him.’ I had simply reached out to give him feedback on his writings. Like I said, his stuff really turned me on, and I appreciated the satisfaction he had given me on so many occasions. I wanted to tell him that fact. Unexpectedly, he replied. So, I answered.  I learned he lived about fifteen miles from me which, was a plus. We exchanged emails discussing his writings in general and the process of writing. I even I filled him in on my views on how to take a guy and then some of my exploits. Some of the emails discussed what was sexually arousing to me in his stuff and how it played into my sexual adventures.  He was definitely interested in that aspect, especially how it made me feel. Now, I’d heard rumors on the Net he was a player. A guy who used his writings to draw in certain types of fanboys solely for the purposes of fucking them in real time. I assumed, being like the jocks who got fucked in his stuff,  I fit the ‘type’ of guy he sought to bottom. I had no problem with it. To be honest I pretty much prefer to bottom guys who never ‘gave it up before’ to another guy. So, I wasn’t some innocent lamb.

As we continued to communicate, I tried not to think about taking him. As our interactions continued, I began to suspect it could happen with every encounter. He confessed at times he was aroused by some of our sex talk and, honestly, I was too. I suppose that admission began the ball rolling for me. I mean, I  appreciated his masculinity and thoughtfulness. It’s a rare combination.   I’ve said I had tremendous respect for him and his writing. Yet, when a person truly grabs my sexual interest, my first thought is to fuck him. In the end, intended or not, knowing I was turning him on…well, I couldn’t resist trying to do him. It was unexpected, but fuck, sometimes the unexpected prizes those are the hottest ones.   I don’t think he really knew it was happening…in fact I think it never entered his head I was subverting his mind while he was playing me. Well, then again, he’d never encountered an expert in mind-fucking guys like me.

Having made the decision to bitch him into my domination, I knew ‘doing him’ would be tricky.   I tried to keep things as even keeled as possible.  It was even more delicate than usual. I had to be subtle. My tactic was to get inside his head, get him heated up, then subtly fuck into his brain so hard he boned at the thought of ‘taking a dick’ for the first time in his life. Once I could get him into that ‘beta’ frame of mind, he’d be  ready to get his cherry popped. 

What helped was that he was no hack in writing. As I said, I got off on his realistic sex stories. We had already been exchanging emails about how he wrote and what made his stories so erotic. Basically, the more we emailed, the more comfortable and open  he had been with me. Gradually, I learned about his process in writing and, critically, what he felt while doing it. Knowing what happened in his head while he wrote, gave me a fuller picture of him. Early on, it was clear he cared about what he produced. But the real reason he was a good writer is that he understood both the Dom and Sub roles.  He insisted in his tales he always mentally saw himself as the ‘top’ character. Yet, I quickly figured out that, whether he realized it or not, he was both sides of the equation.  In my estimation, he probably had a submissive side.  I mean if you read his works he realistically depicted that heat his story’s bottoms experienced in succumbing. Clearly, the guy had to have an untapped beta aspect within him too. I merely needed to bring it fully out within him to turn him out. Simple, right? Tap the beta in his brain to tap his ass!


Like I stated, it was his imagination that made his stuff so good. Thanks to it, he could slip into a “story headspace” where he visualized it all again, with him in the lead role.  In one email, he laughingly informed me it was as if the story was a reality unfolding inside his mind. How, “the character’s sensations  haunted his brain until he wrote it down.”  At some point in our exchanges, he confessed he would always get so mentally ‘into a story’ that it affected him for days after he finished. I knew THAT was my entryway. For that brief time, inside his head, the people in them were real. He felt what they felt. While he was in that headspace, I c simply needed to engage in mental manipulations that would, hopefully, carry over into his real-world interactions with me. Yep, I was going to use a story to hook him.  Get  him to write something with my input. As that tale was being written, it would be ‘unfolding’ inside his head. I would simply direct how he saw things in it in ways he never expected.  I was going to shift his mind’s vision to where he saw himself  as the sub-boy to my character’s Dom-Top.  

How He Got Topped.

He had said those stories about my exploits had fired his imagination. I maneuvered him into thinking of doing a story with me as the inspiration for the main character. The tricky part had been in doing it in a way where he thought it was my idea and I simply agreed to it. As we emailed and exchanged ideas it became clear my soon to be beta-boy was getting into writing it in a big way. As we got further along, he also candidly admitted that he was finding the main character{it was me remember} sexually arousing.  I don't think he really understood the implications of that admission. Without fully realizing it,  he had mentally transposed his usual role in them.  In this story, instead of visualizing himself as the Top he was unwittingly seeing himself as the bottom in it   He had once told me he always got a raging hard-on as he wrote. It was his way of knowing the sexuality in a tale was working. He was fixated on the idea his best stories came from staying aroused and not jerking-off until they were finished.  In his mind it kept his imagination on fire for writing. Naturally I totally endorsed this belief.  I wanted him living within that heated state.   

The simple fact is, when a guy is in heat, it’s always the organ between his legs and not the one between his ears which takes over. Get them hard, keep them horny, keep them overly aroused, and they are putty in a good alpha’s hands. Like  I told you in the beginning, I was a fucking good alpha!And so, it went.  With each discussion we had as he wrote it, he got more and more horny until he was barely containing it.

I used his mind’s  sexual buzz to slowly induce a mental  change in how he saw himself in relation to me.  Without him being aware, I refocused his usual image of a top, relating how a bottom is aroused by domination, to actually experiencing that erotic thrill of being a bottom to the top.  In the end, it was child’s play; I had already had so many experiences in mentally head-fucking guys into bitches that I was easily able to accomplish it.

As I said, he already was basing the lead guy on me. So, I just kept feeding him information about myself and my sexual conquests. Filling in what I thought and experienced when I seduced. Making that “me” even more alive inside his head. I set out the techniques I adopted in each case when I broke an alpha into submission. Every day we exchanged emails about that “me”. I made sure to send information in a way that would fire his imagination. During exchanges, I saw that ‘my character’ was slowly coming alive inside his head. Soon, instead of one or two daily emails to each other, we were writing back and forth throughout the day. As he created “me” inside his mental world, it became clear, he was growing more and more seduced by thoughts of yielding to that “ME’s” domination.   At the same time, the part of him which, saw himself as dominant was fading.  He lapped up stories of my conquests, asking for more and more detail about them. Admitting he was turned on by them too.  It was like a runaway nuclear reactor inside his head.  At some point, he would blow up wiping out any dominant percentage within him.

I encouraged him at every step to get it right. I began suggesting dialogue that  “me ” might use. Quickly it became clear he was succumbing to that “me”.  The simplest of  lines of dialogue he might use to dominate a man sent my writer into a state of sexual arousal.  I gradually began telling him “this is what I would say” not “this is what he would say”. From our emails  it became obvious that unconsciously, or was it consciously, he started seeing me saying these lines to his bottom character.  My thoughts and suggestions took hold of him and guided the story. Our collaboration had now subtly shifted. We had started out as a fan to a writer. Over time we moved to become collaborators on it. Finally, our connection changed. He displayed more and more deference to my ideas until he unconsciously became merely a pen that I now held in my hands. As the tale unfolded on the screen and inside his brain, I had become the alpha. Someone with whom he eagerly wanted to comply. 

Throughout it all we had heated each other up. He was getting off on what we were doing while I was getting off from seeing him succumb. It became an erotic cycle. Quickly, the idea of pleasing me got him stimulated to write. That writing kept him sexually fired up in a way that I employed to mentally bottom him. By the time he was done writing about “that me”, his brain was so infused with my character’s sexual allure, he was primed for my real time domination. 

You see, in the end,  the “me” in his work had come mentally intertwined with the real me. He was hot for fagging by us both. I suppose at some point, he might have known he was getting fagged but, by then, he was so boned for us both, it truly didn’t matter.  Mentally entranced by the two of us , he was willing and  ready to be taken. It was at that precise time that I suggested a real time meet. He jumped at it. My soon to be beta-boy was ready to hooked while I was ready to harpoon his butt.

I suggested we meet up at a bar in my neighborhood. He was a walking wet dream. There was a reason he scored on those fans he had marked out to score upon. Nicely built and in his late thirties, he was easy on the eyes. I was ten years younger and a bit leaner but from the look in his eyes he was hot for me too. As we talked about the story, I could see he was getting aroused. In fact, I noticed his bulge was bulging. From the outset, I adopted a take charge attitude similar to the ‘me’ in his story. Twenty minutes later, he was eager to fuck and candidly admitted it. Not being cruel, I suggested we leave and go to my place. Naturally, he couldn’t get out of the bar fast enough.

Taking him was easy. Too turned on by his own creation and ‘my role’ in it, he gave it up with a minimal of protests. Once we had stripped, I simply made all the moves. Taking a page , no pun intended, from my character’s breezy sexual self-confidence and slight aggressiveness, I pushed him onto my bed. I laid on top of him to maintain the ‘control position’ as we kissed. He was erect, panting, and copiously leaking throughout it all. While I humped my crotch against his,  I asked if he wanted me to screw his brains out. From the way his pupils were dilated with lust, I knew the answer. Yet, I wanted him to ask for it. As I figured, my once “top only” writer eagerly moaned his agreement to be fucked. I spread his spread his legs apart, lubed, and digitally loosened him up. Once he was nicely ‘prepped’ , I fucking plowed into his virginal hole. He gasped as it went into him and let out a howl. When I got in deep enough to hit his prostate, I swear his fucking eyes rolled up into his skull. At various moments during his bottoming, he was engulfed in his sexual heat,  he alternately babbled either my name or the ‘me’ character’s name. I suppose he was too far gone in arousal to know who was taking him. Me or that other ‘me’. Frankly, I couldn’t care less. He was one tight piece of ass, and it was my shaft butt-fucking his rear. 

I plowed him until he was a mind-fucked, sweaty mess. I let him edge during my screwing but never let him shoot until I was fully satiated. Remember what I told you. You want a guy to be pliable, you keep him hard. I took my newly borne beta boy three times that night before I permitted him to finally masturbate to a climax. As he did, I watched. There he was, lying splayed out on my bed, his guts filled with my spunk, shooting his spunk onto his chest, while begging me for another fuck. We both knew that, from then on, I was his literary and reality alpha and he was my tuned out bitch.

When he left that early morning, a load of my creamy my jizz was still inside his ass thanks to a butt-plug I made him wear on his ride home. Did I mention his hair was jelled into spikes thanks to the skull topping cream-pie I did on it? I spared his face, I mean I’m not a total shit, simply marking my territory inside his head. Don’t feel too sorry for him. Remember he lured in guys with his writing then screwed their butts in a series of one-night stands. I simply reversed his trick upon him. As I saw things, it was always in the cards someone would unlock his suppressed inner submissive side. I simply was the one who dealt him that hand.

How He Gave Up More Than His Butt

One finale triumph. After all the hours of writing on his part, he actually suggested that I become the sole author the story he had written. He wanted no author’s credit at all. As he put it,” this was my story, used my words, he merely took notes.”  Inside his head he  wasn’t the ghost-writer, he was my beta-ed sub-writer.   Reading that email gave me that familiar erotic rush of power that comes when you truly know your target has been collared. I had taken his rump, now he wanted me to take his work.

Of course, I initially declined. Not out of humility. I wanted my writer-boy, and let’s be honest, by then he was mentally my boy, asking me to take it from him.  We went back and forth on it with me being all noble and saying I couldn’t.  In the end he was close to begging me to author the story. Yet, that  wasn’t my final triumph.  As I stated at the outset of this tale, he was a writer who had a reputation as a total top in the sack. I had taken him and made him love it.  True, he had offered me the authorship of the story. Again, “giving it up “in another area. Yet, to seal the deal in his total surrender, I wanted him begging me to take ownership of something he had written. Yeah, that would be the final proof of my sexual and mental domination over him. I was confident he was so psychologically wired into submission to me he would cop to it and plead. So…..

Yep, he did beg. Did you doubt it? Patronizingly replying to him that, “if that’s what you truly want, I will do it ”, was the ultimate dick boner. I like to think of that finale like fagging him but, instead of shooting his load, he shot a nice literary output.

So, I that’s how I took him. He no longer writes to please himself or to use his stuff to score on fanboys. Hell, those stallion days for him are totally gelded! My beta-boy now writes with one hand on the keyboard and the other edging his bone as he composes to please me.  Pleasing me is something he does well too. After finishes one, he appears at my place with a smile and a bottle of lube. Basically, he squirts out stories then hops over to get into my bed where I squirt my spunk into his guts. Win-win, yah!

The End

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