Satanic BBC Cuckolding

-- A Dissatisfied Man --

It's Monday night. A grueling week of work ahead. Beta sits at the edge of their cold bed in his white briefs, fingers clenched in his lap. Across the room in a single-seat plush chair, Anna kicks her feet up on a footrest and buries her head in a novel. It's been years since her hands brushed his, decades since their bodies tangled in anything close to desire. Beta wonders sometimes if Anna remembers he exists--that he still has a sex drive. Or if the man who kissed her before has vanished into the decades like a ghost. Beta almost gathers the courage to ask her for sex again, but he knows there would be an excuse. She's too tired. Her neck hurts. She has a headache. At 9:00 PM he suggests they turn off the lights and go to sleep. But Beta has other plans--to secretly escape to his phone after she's fallen asleep.

10 minutes later, Anna is fast asleep. Beta's phone lights up with pixelated fantasies he used to hate himself for craving. But now they're all he has, and the guilt has dulled. The video he stumbles across tonight is particularly special. He recognizes the girl in it. It's someone he knows. It's the new intern that started work at his company earlier that day. The same intern he thought might be flirting with him. And Beta became achingly hard watching her, fantasizing about fucking her. Fantasizing about being with her in real life.

Watching the intern's young body move with passion, Beta's yearning for intimacy finds a shape. A shape that might finally get him laid. He faces the reality that he's not even attracted to his wife anymore, and he's no longer mad about it. He doesn't need her for sex. He sympathizes: maybe they're at the age where females just don't have the same sex drive anymore. Then the crux of the realization: if Anna cheats first, then he will have to be let off the hook to cheat himself. Anna will have to understand if he cheats too after she does. Their friends and families will have to understand, and moreover they will probably even console him. It would be guilt-free, blame-free, sex. And finally... sex.

So he conjures a plan. He scours Craigslist for a male prostitute for hire. Hours pass and the options seem to be running out. He lands on a guy with no picture named Alpha. Intriguing. He figures: it doesn't really matter what he looks like. His biography says that he does birthdays, neglected wives, and revenge sex. They text back and forth. This Alpha guy seems very professional and competent. He even helps Beta formulate a cover-up plan. They agree that he will pose as a landscaper on a hot day when Beta's at work--10:00 AM on Thursday. He will knock on the front door, sweaty, and ask for a glass of water. Beta knows Anna won't turn down a manual laborer who just wants some water. And when he gets inside, he will seduce her. But Beta doesn't want to discuss the details of seduction. Beta tells him, "Just get the job done, and $1000 is yours. Thank you sir!"

The date is set. The price is agreed. Beta pulls up Amazon and purchases a hidden camera teddy bear with overnight shipping to catch Anna red-handed in case she tries to deny anything. Beta just hopes that she'll take the bait and fall in the trap. Beta has plenty of time to set up the teddy bear and lay some of his own groundwork with the intern.

Throughout the week, Beta gets more and more excited. He wears cologne to work and walks through the office confidently with an easy smile. He lays on the flirtation heavily and even finds the confidence to give the intern a few winks.

-- Thursday Setup --

Thursday morning arrives. Beta still walks the office with confidence, but something deep inside makes his heart beat a little faster and gives his smile the slightest quiver. Chatting with his coworkers distracts him, and flirting with the intern makes Beta remember that it'll all be worth it. He tells himself that his body's reactions are from excitement, not nervousness.

10:00 AM hits. Beta looks at the clock. He gulps. The second hand ticks forward in slow motion. The first hour is the slowest. 11:00 AM hits. The deed must be done. Beta sighs in relief and relaxes his shoulders. But as the day goes on, his shaky smile continues. The hour hand drags on the clock. He just wants to get home and check the footage.

Finally 5:00 PM, quitting time. Beta's bag is already packed and he stands up as soon as the second hand reaches the 12. Beta arrives home and pushes the front door open. Before stepping in further, his eyes are already inspecting the house. But everything seems to be in its right place. Beta looks Anna up and down. Nothing seems off. Everything seems normal. Maybe the plan didn't go as expected. Maybe Anna rejected the landscaper's approach.

As they sit silently at the table eating dinner, Beta nonchalantly says, "Looks like the new landscaper did a good job." He wonders if Anna will tell a story of how the landscaper came onto her but she turned it down. "Oh yeah... he did a wonderful job," she replies. The rest of dinner is silent.

-- Thursday Night --

Bedtime approaches. Beta lets Anna read for an hour. Then on cue at 9:00 PM, he suggests they go to sleep. He waits 10 minutes. Then he unlocks his phone and logs into the security footage website. The recording begins playing. He watches with intrigue. The footage of the bedroom has no movements. Beta realizes, "Maybe they had sex in another part of the house. God damn it. How could I have been so stupid?"

Then the bedroom door opens. The sound of it hits like a gunshot. Anna walks backwards through the door. And following her: Alpha. A wall of a man. Black, towering, wide-shouldered, and beefy chiseled muscles. He barely fits through the door. His big Timberlands thump heavy on the wood floors. His shirt is drenched in sweat, sticking to the ripples of his pecs and abs. He moves towards Anna like a predator towards its cornered prey. Beta's stomach tightens and the place that once held his excitement is replaced with something that sits heavier. Dread.

Alpha's voice rolls out deep and smooth, but before Beta can process his words, Anna is already giggling. She crosses knee over knee and holds her arms behind her back, slightly swaying back and forth. Alpha's voice becomes a rumble in the background as Beta stares at Anna with disbelief. She tilts her head in that way she never did for him, letting her hair fall just right to one side, showing off her neck and the swell of her breasts. She smiles too much, laughs too much. She bites her lip like she's unable to hold in her arousal. She practically offers herself. Beta didn't think Anna would play this easy-to-get. But maybe that's it--maybe she's just playing. Maybe she'll just want to makeout with Alpha or something. That would still be considered cheating. That would be enough.

And then Alpha touches her. One hand on her hip, the other under her chin, tilting her up like she was made for him. Beta can't breathe. Anna sighs. Her whole body softens. For Beta, time blurs into what feels like an elongated moment.

Alpha kneels before Anna, lifts her dress, peels her panties off of her ass, then kisses her stomach. She lets it happen. Then Alpha stands up and they start making out. Alpha moves the straps of her dress off her shoulders. Her dress falls to the floor around her feet and she stands naked in the center of it. She looks like a doll standing in a plastic box, unreachable by Beta. Alpha pulls back for a moment. Anna looks up to Alpha with wide eyes as if she doesn't know what else Alpha has planned but whatever it is, she will do it. Alpha grabs the base of his shirt with crossed arms, and pulls it off in one smooth movement. He somehow looks even bigger with his shirt off. Anna drops one hip like her body is in awe. The V shape of her vagina area seems to send a wink. Alpha makes Anna look so small, but at the same time he makes her figure look so womanly. Fear washes over Beta like flames.

Alpha looks down at Anna's body. He grabs her waist and pulls her in, making her back arch as she falls towards him. She catches herself with her hands on his abs. They're saying things to each other, but Beta is still not processing language, except for a mess of Anna's yeses and pleases and head nods. Alpha's hands trace the curve of her waist down to her ass. He looks over her shoulder and jiggles her ass cheeks as if checking her for something. Then Alpha picks her up like a little kid. She giggles more, wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Alpha walks her to the bed and gently lays her on her back as they continue making out.

Her legs part immediately. Her eyes shimmer like she's tipsy, and in a way, she is--drunk on attention, on the sheer gravity of Alpha's dominating presence. Alpha leaves her there for a moment as he pulls down his work pants. It's not until his pants pass his knees that his cock finally bounces free. It must be 14 inches long, like something out of a hentai. Beta fears for Anna. He fears for his wife's body as any husband would. He fears for her pain.

Alpha returns his attention to Anna. Her mouth is gaping in awe of his cock. She lets out a single stuttered giggle as her cheeks try pulling her mouth into a smile but are resisted by her dropped jaw.

Alpha grabs his cock with both hands like it's something to be tamed. He bites his lip and lines up his tip at her pussy. He drags the wide head against her slick folds, back and forth like he's testing her grip. Beta can't imagine it fitting inside her.

Anna bites her lip and looks up to Alpha's face, "yes please" with puppy eyes. He flexes his glutes and presses forward. Just a slow, claiming push, cock to cunt. Not out of hesitation, but out of dominance. Her pussy caves inward. Then the tip pops inside, and her pussy lips bloom open around it. She gasps sharply, her neck muscles tighten, and her lungs hold the air hostage as her mouth hangs open in soundless hysteria.

The room feels cold around Beta, but his skin burns. Every cell of him screams to close the website and take everything back--but he doesn't. He can't. Not with the face she makes. Not when her legs lift on instinct, gladly welcoming that boa constrictor into her garden. Beta is frozen. Paralyzed.

Alpha continues slowly, teasing her body. Her womb swells with his slithering outline. At 7 inches deep he's only halfway, and her body tries to reject his size. Her thighs involuntarily flex shut, trying to squeeze him out. But it's useless against his size. The thickness of his cock holds her thighs open, denying her body's attempts to resist and instead turning them into adorable little squeezes along his shaft. Alpha continues sliding deeper, extracting her body's reactions. Inch by inch, Anna's mouth chokes wider and wider, gasping faintly as her body tries to inhale more, like her body is trying to keep up with what it's feeling. She looks like sex doll helpless to Alpha's will.

The outline of Alpha's cock passes Anna's belly button. Anna finally finds the strength--or maybe the peace--to exhale. Her dropped jaw releases a pent-up scream-moan that breaks her voice on the way out. Beta turns the volume to almost silent but it's still too loud. Beta lays there in a puddle of sweat. At the bottom of Anna's exhale, her abs begin spasming. Her legs begin vibrating. Her neck relaxes and her head falls back onto the bed. She finally finds a smile. And still, Alpha continues his steady push deeper.

The bulging outline of Alpha's cock nearly reaches her ribs, filling the entire length of her guts. The look on Anna's face shows it's becoming unbearable. Her eyelids squeeze. Her chest expands outward, splaying her boobs wide like she's giving birth in reverse. Her arms spread wide across the bed like she's crucified. Her fingers claw into the sheets like she's nailed to the bed frame. Her legs straighten in a perfect V like she's receiving heaven but her toes curl down like they're grasping Hell. Her spine arches sharply like she's possessed. She's impaled from cunt to throat. Beta's eyes well with tears for her pain and he can't believe there's still more cock.

The vibrations in her legs and abs become violent. Alpha grins, revealing his gold teeth, and lets out a low devilish chuckle as if he knows what's happening. He pauses for a moment--using his cock to anchor her down as her orgasm blossoms, giving her body something steady to latch onto, and to experience her cumming from the inside. Her hips begin buckling backwards, arching her back in spurts. And every time she does, Alpha's cocktip bulges out of her stomach. Her abs clench harder and her eyes squeeze tighter. Alpha slowly tilts his head to the side, studying her reactions sadistically like she's an animal tortured helpless.

Without warning, Alpha grunts and aggressively thrusts the remainder of his 14 inches into her body and sticks out his long tongue like a serpent. Her eyes and mouth break wide and she screams from the top of her lungs, like an angel dragged out of heaven's gates, flying fearfully through the clouds, and slamming through the earth's crust into Hell. And the whole time, her body doesn't stop shaking, throbbing, and cumming--violently. Her cheeks are flush rosy red by the time she's done screaming. Then her pussy begins doing something Beta has never seen--it begins suctioning Alpha's cock in powerful rhythmic waves like it's milking him--powerful enough to hear the squelch of each suck. Anna's mind and soul are on another planet and her body is left on the bed in Alpha's control.

The powerful suction of Anna's pussy and the flexing of her abs seem to last forever, but the buckling of her hips finds deeper rhythm like they're possessed by an R&B song. Her eyelids relax into flutters and her breath finds drops of oxygen between moans, like a girl halfway conscious in a dream she couldn't stop loving. Beta's not sure he's in reality anymore either. He feels like he's in the room with them. Like he's the mindless, emotionless teddy bear sitting on the bookshelf watching the sheer size of Alpha making Anna cum just from being opened on first penetration. And it isn't just pleasure--it's a kind of submission, like her body's giving up its resistance and offering itself to something too big to fight.

Alpha stares into her face with predatory eyebrows, still studying her body's reactions--and so does Beta now, except with a blank stare, the horror not having hit him yet. The horror of the way Anna's orgasm must feel for Alpha. The way that her whole body seems to massage his cock, squeeze it and milk it like she's an inanimate battery-powered sex toy. Like that's the purpose of her existence and she loves it. Beta doesn't even realize the minutes passing as Anna cums. It's just a blur of Anna grinding her hips in circles, arching her back up and down, flipping her hair left and right, pussy squeezing and squelching, milking and moaning. And the way Alpha just stands there. Steady. Anchoring her body. Inspecting her. Extracting her orgasm. Experiencing Anna.

Anna's whole-body spasms slow to intermittent jolts and smaller hip circles. Her eyelids rest shut like she's napping on a cloud. So Alpha begins thrusting--just barely--small and low. Clapping sounds take over as Alpha's hips smack her ass. Even with low thrusts, his thrusts pound her little body like driving a stake into wet earth. Her body shifts up with each pound. Anna begins releasing softer "mmmmmhh" moans.

It's an hour into watching, and the clapping sounds somehow snap Beta back to reality. He can't watch any more. He clicks his phone off and gently rests it face-down on the nightstand. He lays in the pitch-black room with his eyes wide open, pupils tiny. His ears ring. Each throb of the veins in his neck makes his vision pulse white. He can't process it.

He stays up all night, feeling exposed, scorched by flames from the inside out. He doesn't want to cheat anymore. He doesn't want the intern anymore. He doesn't want revenge. He doesn't want sex at all. He just wants to shut his eyes tight, turn back time, and go back to the dull comfort of his boring, predictable life--his silent evenings, his soft, clothed wife, and his quiet porn sessions. But he can't even close his eyes. He knows he needs to formulate a plan to take back the past, but his mind can't focus.

-- Failure With The Intern --

The morning sun begins to spill through the window. Beta never fell asleep. Not really. His thoughts all night were scrambled and uncontrolled like a dream, but his eyes stayed open, he felt Anna's pain--or maybe her pleasure--burning every cell of his body all night. His phone alarm goes off and it startles him. He reaches for his phone, but hovers over it for a moment. He quickly squeezes the side button like it's a hot pan. He gets out of bed like a zombie. His eyes are bloodshot from forgetting to blink. He puts on his suit and drives to work.

Seeing the intern only helps a little. She's looking as hot as ever, which is always nice to see, but Beta is still distracted and sleep deprived. Through light chatter with his colleagues, Beta begins to sense his old self again. His old life. He almost forgets Anna's unfaithfulness. Then he remembers that it's Friday, the best day, and he remembers what his plan was--to fuck this super hot intern and put his wife to the sidelines once and for all.

In some desperate, unplanned attempt, Beta asks the intern out. She bursts out in laughter in his face. Then she remembers to be professional so she holds it back by manually covering her mouth. Beta's face turns red. After 10 excruciating seconds, she finally collects herself and finds a professional way to say no, but the true message is clear. Her feelings towards him are clear. Beta walks the office looking at the ground, hoping she hasn't told anyone that he asked her out. Beta becomes embarrassed. He becomes paranoid.

-- Come To jesus --

A couple weeks pass. Beta goes through the motions of life, paralyzed by his humiliation and regret, and haunted by memories of the video. He never finished the whole video that fateful Thursday night. He wonders what else happens and how it ends. Beta tries to push those curiosities out of his head as soon as they come, but glimpses sneak their way in small doses and it builds up over time. A creampie. A facial. Anna swallowing. Alpha hitting Anna, and Anna liking it. Impregnation.

One day he runs into the pastor at the grocery store. Years ago, Anna and Beta went to church every Sunday, and they had a strong relationship with the pastor. Even though it's been years and people change, the pastor knows immediately that Beta is troubled. He welcomes him back to church, to follow in jesus's footsteps, and to realign with his faith in god. He says Beta should stay brave. Beta agrees to show up on Sunday.

Beta feels somewhat responsible for creating this demon and he wants to face it on his own, so he tells Anna he's going to the hardware store. At church, he finds a seat in the back row. The sermon seems designed just for him even though he didn't tell the pastor about his troubles. It's about loving your partner. Forgiving loved ones freely so that you may move on through life together. And forgiving yourself.

Beta drives back home, still conflicted, but sensing a guiding light at the end of the tunnel. But when he turns onto his street, he sees a blacked-out Dodge Challenger in his driveway. Completely tinted windows. Beta knows immediately. The light at the end of the tunnel is snuffed out and Beta can feel the smoke of it filling his skull.

He parks on the street. When he steps inside, he can hear sex. He tip-toes, careful not to creak any wooden floorboards. He follows the sound to the bedroom where the door is slightly ajar. It's Alpha of course. Fucking Anna. Or rather Anna fucking Alpha. She's riding him like a little girl delighted on a mechanical horse. Her pigtails bounce up and down as she rides, giggling and moaning.

Anna can't sit the whole way down on it, making Alpha's cock look like a black tree trunk holding up a single flower. Her pussy looks like it's about to tear, and her screams tell the same story. Her torso looks like a glove stretched skin-tight around his cock. Maybe even like a puppet played silly by Alpha's extra appendage. Beta's face grows red with anger. But when he notices a stray beam of light reflecting off of a rosary resting between Anna's tits, it stops him in his tracks. He remembers he just returned from church. The black tunnel in Beta's mind stretches a hundred-fold deeper. And in that stray beam of light, the snuffed out light at the end of his tunnel reignites--a tiny light this time--but white hot and enough to follow.

And then Beta sees the shit frosting on his shit cake... Anna's appearance. Her demeanor. It sinks into Beta. She looks... hot... riding Alpha. Sexy. It reminds him of the porno he saw of the intern fucking with such passion. Her sexiness crumples any logical thoughts he tries to sort. This isn't what he signed up for. This isn't what he paid Alpha for. In fact he's not even paying Alpha anymore. Alpha shouldn't be here and Anna should be his faithful wife.

Anna and Alpha haven't heard him and they don't notice him peeking through the crack in the door. Beta doesn't enter the room. He doesn't touch the door. He doesn't speak up. He just stares in frustration, confusion... dizzying amazement. Beta eventually snaps and realizes he might get caught watching and he begins to feel lightheaded. He takes a step back to catch himself from falling, and he quickly glances back through the door to make sure they didn't hear his step. He tip-toes back out the front door. He goes back into his car, drives off and parks at the neighborhood library for 45 minutes to think about what to say, and to give Alpha time to finish... to leave his house!

In the parking lot, he logs into his security footage account where the hidden camera has still been logging footage. They have been fucking. Every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. Hard. Disgustingly hard.

-- Beta Sprialing --

Beta's instincts tell him to grab Anna's arms and demand answers, to tear at the walls between them. But Beta can't find any words that sound right. He can't admit he'd set it all up from the start and that it turned into something he never wanted. She would never understand. So he doesn't say anything. Plagued with this dark, growing demon, Beta enters a deep spiraling depression.

He stops eating, letting the meals Anna makes him pile up untouched. He starts drinking. It starts small, just a few shots after work, but it becomes all-day drinking. Straight whiskey. His stomach churns from the ache of hunger, the burn of alcohol, and the sick twist of jealousy that never stops. He loses interest in everything and develops a habit of gnashing his teeth.

When Beta gets really drunk, the demonous thoughts slide into his mind easier. Anna's soft laughter when she's with Alpha, how Alpha touches her naked body, the way she throbs around his cock. The images flicker in his drunken mind, dancing behind his eyes like flames he can't put out.

One day, Beta finishes a whole bottle of whiskey before 9:00 AM. He's drunk off his ass and Anna has escaped to her parents' house. He closes his eyes and that video from that Thursday night replays clearly behind his eyelids. The gunshot of Alpha opening the bedroom door. Anna standing like a doll in the center of her dress. Alpha picking her up, flopping his cock out of his pants, his slow penetration, the bulging of his cock in Anna's torso, and Anna cumming. Screaming, moaning, spasming.

Beta fumbles both hands to his right pocket and takes out his phone. He logs into the security footage account. He means to rewatch the video from that fateful night, to finally find out how it ends. But at the top of the list is a thumbnail of Alpha doggystyling Anna, grasping her ponytail, yanking it so far back that her spine bends backwards and her face points up. Beta taps it.

Anna's softly tortured moan hits before the video fully loads. The video lights Beta's face. She's ass up, face down. Beta's breath catches in his throat seeing her spine arch downward like an offering. She's never done that for him. Her hair is in a ponytail, tied up with a rosary. That same rosary. Almost like it's a message to Beta. Alpha tugs her ponytail back with an extended arm like he's holding a Pit Bull back on leash. Then her voice breaks the air. "Use me Daddy. Make me scream. Give me your baby." Alpha inserts like slipping into an old familiar glove. Wet heat flushes down Beta's spine. He tries to pause the video, but his thumb hovers drunkenly above the screen. Alpha yanks her ponytail with each violent thrust. The slap of skin, the ripple of Anna's ass, Alpha's grunting--it sinks into Beta like hot oil.

From this angle Beta can really see how wide Anna's pussy stretches around Alpha. It looks puffy, glistening, ruined. It starts pulsing and suctioning. Beta knows what's happening. Alpha pulls her into that impossible backwards arch he saw in the thumbnail. Anna's face points to the heavens, jaw slack and screaming. Alpha mercilessly pounds her as she cums, the ripples of her ass traveling up the skin of her back.

Alpha fucks her hard through her orgasm, and he doesn't stop even after she's found her resting spot on cloud nine. He keeps her arched and he keeps ramming. Alpha grunts once. Twice. He aggressively shoves to max depth, bulging from Anna's tummy. Alpha holds at max depth and looks down at Anna's face and lets out a low and controlled hum, "Mmmmm". They stare into each other's eyes. The outline of Alpha's tip throbs in Anna's tummy. Anna's eyebrows furrow like a sad kitten. With each throb of Alpha, Anna's ass jolts and she moans in high pitch. It's as if Alpha's orgasm stirs a deeper reaction from Anna than Alpha himself. Like he's massaging her insides. Like he's giving her something she's never had and always needed. It's a secondary, deeper, more complexly layered orgasm for Anna. One that's bestowed upon her from a higher power and electrifies every cell of her body.

Alpha pulls his cock from Anna's body, making a wet pop sound as he yanks the tip out. Her pussy recoils to the gaping size of him, releasing a terrible shulk sound. Cum floods out of her like a waterfall of honey. White creamy honey infused with potent genetics. Beta's foot twitches. He realizes his cock is hard. Painfully hard. And it makes him feel sick. And small.

Beta hates it. He hates watching her like this--watching her submit, fully, to another man. He hates that he's hard from watching. But he knows he needs to see more. He needs to see tomorrow's clip. He needs to know everything that happens from this point forward.

Beta becomes a slave to it. He watches the videos every day. He zooms in on her moaning face. On her gaping pussy. On Alpha's huge loads as they creampie out of her. He zooms in on Alpha's rippling muscles and flexing glutes as he thrusts. The images burn into his brain and play in a relentless loop. Every moan, every touch, every orgasm. They twist together in his mind, fusing into a sickening, obsessive compulsion.

It's all he can think about. His pulse quickens at the thought of it. But in the same breath, a wave of despair hits sharp and deep, sinking into his bones. So he drinks to wash it away. The knot of depression twists tighter with every replay and every drink. Pain, lust, rage, despair--mix like blood and wine spilled across soggy parchment.

-- Re-Attraction --

Beta tries watching normal porn. None of it turns him on. Only one thing stirs him: the footage of Anna with Alpha. He makes compilations of her moans, Alpha's creampies, the different lingerie and jewelry she wears. He hoards it as his personal collection.

One morning, Beta passes Anna in the kitchen. In the corner of his eye, something flickers--something in the way she moves. He's seen it before, but only on screen.

The slow sinful sway of her hips. It's raw. The weight of her feet stamping heat deep into the earth. With every step, her thigh muscles flex with a quiet hunger, soft and plump and flush with dark confidence. The skin between her thighs almost shimmers, as if moistened by some force too frightening to confront.

Beta's eyes climb her body. Her waist curves sharply, a dip that begs for fingers to trace, but he dares not reach. That hollow of her side, where her skin softens like it was made for kissing--he can almost feel her breath there, proof she's alive, proof she's untouchable.

Her breasts--he catches the subtle swell beneath the fabric, the slow, aching rise and fall of each breath, as if they're heavy with something fertile and ready to break free. But Anna holds it back, saving it up for only the most worthy. And she decides who, and Beta knows he isn't one.

Her lips part slightly, pink and swollen, effortlessly withholding secrets of her darkness. Light dances on her lower lip, making them impossible to look away from--inviting, teasing, and filthy.

And then there's the scent. Fruity and floral with something earthy and bitter underneath, almost like pollen dust. It follows her movements like a shadow and fills the space between them like an irresistible aura.

Her eyes catch his. Bright, wicked, and satisfied. Her brown irises penetrates Beta. He flinches and looks away fast. And just like that, he's back in high school--skinny, pathetic, shoved into lockers by football players while his crush since third grade, the hottest, most popular girl in school, walks past without a glance.

Anna glows. She radiates an intoxicating, cruel confidence that makes her utterly irresistible--more woman, more goddess, more temptation. He wants to reach out and touch that glow, but he knows it's not his to touch anymore.

Beta sits down at the table and asks himself: the way her body moves--is it something he's been blind to all these years? Or has Alpha changed her?

His attraction towards Anna is relit, warming him like a bonfire on a freezing cold night. It's the most powerful crush he's ever had, but it's warped in lies, jealousy, and humiliation.

-- Cuckold Desires --

Beta begins jacking off to the footage. To the vision of Anna. To the thought of Anna cumming on Alpha's cock. He sneaks away to the bathroom multiple times a day to masturbate. And each time he does, he slams onto the rock bottom of his depression. Then he punches himself in the head like his mind is trapped in a cage in Hell. He hates himself more than ever. But he's too disoriented, too lost to find his feet and stand up. He convinces himself he won't fall this time and it won't hurt this time. But it's so much easier to fall, so he lets himself slam again. And again. For months.

One afternoon, he watches footage of his smoking hot crush getting impaled and sent to outer space in her orgasm. He shakes his red hard penis. Then out of nowhere, maybe from god, a realization sweeps over him like a rainstorm over a desert. Everything falls into place and he sees it plain and clear.

Merely watching Alpha fuck Anna--the sights, the sounds, everything about it--is the most erotic thing he has ever experienced. And clearly, sex with Alpha is the most erotic thing Anna can ever experience too. Beta chuckles at himself as he finally admits the most glaring reality: he cannot fuck like Alpha. From that first fateful day, from that first penetration, Alpha became the only man worthy of Anna's body.

These facts culminated into a single truth: the highest form of sex he can ever attain is--must be--watching Anna. With Alpha. In real life. To be a part of that chaos--even if only at the edge, kneeling, serving, cuckolding--is his ultimate sex. The realization hits him like a shock, then sinks deeper, almost welcomed: What if he doesn't hate it? What if it wasn't Alpha or Anna that tore him up inside, but his unmet need to be a cuckold?

The thought runs through him, wild. He doesn't need to own Anna. He doesn't even need to fuck her. He just needs to be there. To watch. To serve. To offer whatever was left--because that's what she deserves.

A relief of acceptance runs through him. He's nothing compared to Alpha and that doesn't hurt him anymore--because he can still be useful. He closes his eyes and smiles, breath heavy and alcoholic, mind already spinning a thousand ways he could serve her. If Alpha lets him. If Anna lets him. He begs god to let Anna and Alpha accept. So he gets to work on a plan to ask them. The best plan yet.

Beta figures the best way to ask is to catch them in the act. But Beta doesn't want to be rude--he doesn't want to catch them too off guard. That would just be disrespectful to Alpha. So Beta spends the next few hours carefully studying the timestamps of the footage, figuring out the times of day that Alpha goes to the house. How long he stays. What time Anna cums and what time Alpha creampies her. He thinks he should show up when they start foreplay. Before they even get naked would be best because he doesn't want to disrespect Anna either by barging in on her. A clothed makeout would be perfect. Just barely enough to be considered cheating, something that would have to be confronted.

Beta determines that Fridays are most consistent. Alpha shows up 5 minutes after Beta leaves for work then they start fucking within 10 minutes. It's a Monday so Beta will have to wait all week. His excitement builds throughout the week. He puts in PTO for Friday. He stops drinking and begins to eat again. He gets a haircut and finally takes a shower. He jacks off to their videos even more, only now they make him feel refreshed. The flashes of Alpha and Anna keep coming but now they give him a contented grin.

-- Friday Cuckolding --

Friday morning finally arrives. Beta springs out of bed, a new man. He drives to the library parking lot instead of work. He checks his watch. 3 minutes until Alpha arrives. Then he will have a 10 minute window. He drives back to his house. Hands are shaking on the steering wheel. His heart thumps hard. He can't wipe the smile off his face. He arrives and enters quietly so they don't hear him and they don't stop. He walks to his bedroom door.

Through the crack he sees them making out clothed, just as he planned. Beta prepares to enter and act like it's not all contrived. He takes a step back, looks down, fixes his tie, and gulps. He takes a step forward, pushes the door open, and looks up casually while saying "hey honey I forgot my..." Beta's jaw drops and the scene hits him harder than expected. Anna's soft stance. Alpha's territorial posture.

He trembles and uses all his will to hold back a huge smile. "Honey!" says Beta. Anna shrieks. Alpha approaches Beta like he's going to kill him. He points at the door and commands, "get the fuck out of here." Right before Alpha is about to shove Beta out the door, Beta raises his hands in surrender and stammers, "wait wait wait! It's fine!" Alpha hesitates mid-shove, snarling, waiting.

Beta gulps and says, "it's... it's... this is fine. I mean no harm Alpha. I'm so sorry to barge in on you. And Anna... this... this is all my fault. I've failed as a husband. And you deserve to be treated like a woman." Beta lowers to his knees and clasps his hands. "I'm... so so sorry Anna... and I want this for you. Please... please continue as you were." Alpha smirks back at Anna and says, "well well well, we might have ourselves an audience today. Let's continue."

Beta stays there, kneeling like a boy in church, and he watches them fuck. They're so much louder in person. It's so much sexier. The whole experience is better than Beta could have imagined. It blows his mind.

Afterwards, Alpha walks over to Beta, his wet cock swinging, strands of cum and sex flinging left and right like a weapon from battle. He stops in front of Beta, his cock hanging inches from Beta's face. Sex hangs off him in long, syrupy strands that pool at Beta's knees. It looks even crazier up close. The girth is amazing--like it wouldn't even fit in a mason jar. And the texture of its black skin--looks delicious. Smooth and velvety and shiny. Kissable. Beta can feel warmth radiate from it like a heating element.

And the smell of it--it's complex like nothing he's ever smelled before. Beta draws a deep, slow whiff and fills his lungs with the fumes. The stench of steamy jockstraps and sweat-soaked basketball jerseys after victory, the things that were once shoved in his face by school bullies. Then the unmistakable base note: the natural scent of Black man's skin--a gooey, melted blend of cocoa butter, warm leather, and expensive dark chocolates with raspberry jam filling made for white women. And underneath, something familiar--the damp fermentation of Anna's lace panties after a long day--the rotten sweetness of her pussy like overripe peaches infested with sugary alcohol. And then--unmistakable--the faint chemical bitterness of Alpha's hot cum like fresh pancake batter poisoned with drops of battery acid and topped with tarnished pennies. The dense fumes curdle in Beta's lungs like smoke in a bong and he almost coughs, but pushes past and sucks more in.

Beta reluctantly releases that sacred air from his lungs in a slow, open-throat exhale, trying to taste it on the way out, then he looks up to Alpha with bloodshot eyes. "Please sir, can I please... just... kiss your cock... sir?" Without knowing it, the visions of Anna that have been burned into his brain manifest: he bats his eyes just like does for Alpha.

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of Alpha's mouth. He looks down at Beta for a long, quiet second like studying a small, helpless thing on the floor. He pauses just long enough to savor how pathetic the idea is. Alpha says, "Hell no." Alpha pauses another moment, looks over Beta's scrawny body, and his face becomes disgusted. "Be here Sunday. And wear something nice, you perverted little piece of shit." Then his fists clench and his biceps tighten in a powerful warning as he commands, "GET the fuck out of my house," striking Beta like a whip. Beta jolts and braces himself on the ground on all fours. He flips towards the door and scurries out. The door slams hard behind him like a shotgun in his ear, and Beta hears the muffled bursting laughter of Anna.

Beta drives to the motel down the road. "2 nights please." The person at the front desk is a Black man who stares into Beta for a moment. "That'll be $1000. Cash." Beta stammers, "I..." and the man points across the room, "ATM right there."

The motel room carpet is matted with black gum and stomped pathways. The door has been clawed by dogs. There are no sheets, no blanket, no pillow, and yellow stains cover the mattress like graffiti. A single lightbulb flickers from the bathroom. Beta accepts his 2-day purgatory and prays to be saved on Sunday.

-- Matrimony --

Sunday arrives. Beta is awake before sunrise, he takes a shower, shaves, and puts on his only good clothes--his suit for church. Beta sweats profusely in his suit, partially from nerves, and partially because he mistakenly took way too hot a shower. He drives to the house. Alpha's black race car is parked at an angle, taking up the whole 2-car driveway, so Beta parks on the street. He takes a deep breath and opens the front door.

The inside is unrecognizable. Darkness pools everywhere, except for a soft, flickering path of tea lights that form a narrow, trembling aisle stretching from his feet to the back of the room where the path widens like it's bowing. All the furniture is gone and wood planks are nailed to the windows. He closes the door behind him, snuffing out the last sliver of sunlight.

The atmosphere consumes Beta. It's as hot as a sauna, humid with Anna's steaming ripe pussy and Alpha's cologne. It's thick with burning incense and black candle soot. Beta coughs into his fist, his throat squeezes shut, and his struggled breaths become wheezy. The pollution wells in his eyes as he sinks into the heat and darkness.

The entire room throbs with bassy rap, so deep it rumbles the floor and walls all at once, as if Satan himself is holding them in a box and shakes it for his own cruel entertainment. The bass takes control of Beta's chest and lungs, vibrating his ribcage, forcing air in and out of his nostrils and up and down his throat. It takes Beta a while to adjust to the buzz, to find his footing on its wavelength.

Between bass lines are growling rap lyrics and the sexual moans of a girl. Only Beta can't quite make out the words in his haze. As he focuses harder, he can almost make out a line about fucking someone's bitch and sending her back with handprints on her ass. But his eager imagination must have gotten the best of him because now the lyrics are clear: they're in Latin. And it's Alpha's voice that's growling.

As Beta's eyes adjust to the darkness, he begins to see more. At the back of the room is the shadowy silhouette of a naked, towering man. Alpha. His chest is dark and beading with sweat, chiseled like it was carved from stone. His abs glisten. His stance is wide and commanding. Both his arms extend up and he holds something as if presenting it to god. A thick book with a snakeskin cover. He stares up at it and continues his rapping in Latin.

The flickering flames of the tea lights bend towards Alpha like they're blown by a breeze, but there is no breeze. They cast their light towards his altar, and Beta finds Anna hidden there, kneeling between Alpha's spread legs. Her head bobs over his pelvis with purposeful motions. The moaning and slurping sounds in the song synchronize with her movements. Beta realizes that there is no girl in the song. It's Anna.

And Anna is not naked. She wears her old wedding dress, glowing ivory just as white as their wedding day. The poofy skirt flap of her dress rests on the ground around her, making her petite torso look trapped in the end of a funnel. Her long veil flows from a pearly pin in her hair and wraps around her like a protective ritual circle. Her hair is fancied up with a high bun and curls of hair frame her head. Sparkling earrings hang low, swinging in motion with her bobbing.

Alpha's rapping becomes a repetition of "Ave Satana. Ave Satana. Ave Satana." Then the bass converges into a continuous, monotonic, non-stop rumble. No more rhythm. Just pure vibration. Even more powerful than before. It forces blood in and out of Beta's eyes and vibrates them left and right, blurring his vision.

Alpha's voice thunders, "GENUA FLECTE." It's so loud that Beta doesn't know what direction it comes from. Beta covers his ears, squeezes his eyes shut, and compresses his skull, trying to steady it from the rumbling. Beta kneels as he's been ordered.

Another clap of thunder, "REPTE." Beta is forced to remove his hands from his head. He gets on all fours and begins crawling down the aisle on all fours in an unsteady path like a drunkard, struggling towards the altar in his blurry vision. The wooden floor is completely chewed up. Splayed splinters slice Beta's hands and knees, and they stay lodged. Each press into the ground drives them deeper and inserts more splinters. The trail of blood he leaves behind becomes wider the farther he gets. Candle by candle, the aisle burns beside him like flickering witnesses.

The scent of Anna's rotten sweetness grows stronger, guiding his direction. Alpha towers higher and the sounds of Anna's wet suction and helpless moans become clearer. Beta's heart thrashes, now completely controlled by the vibration of bass. The heat, the blood, the bass--it almost becomes unbearable, but Alpha's thunderous commands still ring in Beta's skull and he drags forward.

Beta finally has a view of the space between Anna and Alpha, and he's close enough to discern the details even in his shaky vision. Squeezing the base of Alpha's cock is a chunky, all-gold Rolex--bigger than would fit Beta's wrists. Even with such an ornament, there's still 12 inches of cock meat between the Rolex and Anna. His cock juts out of her mouth like a monument. Beta watches Anna work as much of it as she can, her lips rolling back and forth over the swollen crown of his fist-sized tip.

From this angle, Beta notices that her wedding dress is everything but normal. The chest scoop has been torn off, spilling her breasts out, jiggling faintly with each bob of her head. And a heart shaped cutout frames her womb. Through it, her supple skin is centered with something new--a belly button ring--dangling with a diamond-studded, upside down crucifix. Beta glances to her earrings which he can now see dangle with the same iconography--a matching set.

Beta thought she would be using her hands on Alpha's cock like she normally does, but he was wrong about that too. Resting gently at her waist, Anna holds a bridal bouquet in both hands like she's praying--like she's waiting to receive something life-changing. Her eyes stay gently closed and she gives Beta no acknowledgement. Not even a glance.

-- Vows --

Alpha towers from a mile above. He's still holding the snakeskin bible over his head, staring up at it, as if unentertained by the devotion of Anna's mouth. Thunder strikes again, "VOTA."

Beta looks to Anna, her head still bobbing on his slimy shaft. Her lips are puffy and glossy. Beta gulps and tells her, "Anna, I vow to be the best best husband from here forward. I will honor your womanhood... I'll worship your womanhood! Anything you want, anything you need, I'll do it. Alpha too! No matter how humiliating or painful, I'll be there when you need me." He looks up to Alpha for approval, but no movement. Beta continues, "I'll... cook for you and Alpha, I'll make you drinks and I'll wash your bodies. I'll pay for everything! You two will never have to work ever again and I'll do double shifts to cover everything. I.. I'll happily raise your and Alpha's children!"

Beta looks down in defeat towards his rock hard little penis forming a tent in his pants and sees his future flash before his eyes. "Truth is... I'm your cuck. I wish nothing other than to be your... your and Alpha's... slave. Ave Satana..." Moments pass with Beta's head hung, then Anna lets out a high pitched hum, like screaming with her mouth closed. Beta glances over to her quickly.

-- Baptism --

Anna pushes her head as far as it will go and grinds Alpha's tip against the entrance to her throat. She seals her puffy lips in a tight clench and she braces. Beta watches the veins along Alpha's cock engorge, stretching Anna's lips to their max. The base of his cock flexes upward and the tip points downward, giving it a better aim down Anna's throat. The fleshy tube on the underside of his cock ripples with a glob of cum travelling to the gaping, eager entrance of her throat. Alpha delivers his cum there and instantly, a protruding bulge forms in Anna's throat.

Anna swallows the bulge down in a single, wet gulp. Alpha's cock is already swollen again like a pressure hose and another thick load travels under his cock and re-inflates the bulge in Anna's throat--louder this time. Ghulk. A more frantic gulp as she tries to manage the food and a slosh as cum pools in her stomach. Her desperate swallows find a rhythm with Alpha's throbbing, the sound of it dancing over the powerful monotone bassline--buhlp--buhlp--buhlp--until it becomes mechanical like she's drinking oatmeal through a feeding tube.

Anna doesn't breathe. She can't breathe. Her cheeks flush crimson and her eyes grow wide. The look on her face is as if Alpha's pumps violently plunge her throat, and her mouth is the toilet. Except Alpha doesn't force her. His hand doesn't hold her there. Alpha doesn't move at all--he just pumps cum. This is purely Anna's submission. Like it nourishes her. Like it transforms her into something she truly desires.

Anna's doing an amazing job, being a good girl for Alpha. But one gulp takes too long, and her rhythm slips. The sound becomes a layered mess of glks and gurrghhs as she struggles to catch up. But she keeps her head forward, lips latched, and Alpha's tip sealed at her throat's entrance. Another load fills her throat without having gulped the first. Then a third load. Anna can't find the will to recover. The bulge is massive.

A fourth load forces its way in and something magical happens. Anna's shoulders twitch, then slowly relax, and the buildup of cum breaks some barrier she had been holding up. A river of cum jets into her stomach--the sound of it like pissing. Some of the cum backs up into her sinuses and leaks from her nose in twin milky dribbles. The protruding bulge softens as the cum unloads. But before her throat is empty, Alpha injects again. Over and over. She keeps her throat open, letting Alpha directly pump her stomach full--and it's a beautiful sight.

Beta watches, jaw dropped, horrified and amazed that such a thing is even possible. Beta's eyes follow Alpha's cock towards his body, widening as he admires Alpha's stance from this angle. He watches Alpha's rippling abs breathe, slow and controlled, as his cock continues its violence unto Anna. He watches beads of sweat form on the skin over his pecs and he watches it dribble down his body.

Alpha still holds that snakeskin book up high and his face still points up at it. Normally, Beta would be too frightened to look at Alpha's face--to make eye contact with him--but he feels free now, only because Alpha doesn't look back. Hesitantly, Beta's gaze traces Alpha's collar bones to his neck and up to his face. Beta is in awe of his perfect facial structure: a wide jawbone, structured cheekbones, and--yet again--perfectly smooth skin.

Alpha's expression is so calm, so neutral that Beta wonders if he's really even enjoying his orgasm. Maybe he just does it for Anna. Maybe it's even just a spectacle for Beta himself. For a moment, Alpha's eyelids crack open. Behind his eyelids is fire. Actual fire. Hot, bright, and orange like there's a furnace in his skull. Beta thinks he must be imagining it. But they crack open again, and the fire reveals itself again. Beta's breath catches and he realizes what's really going on.

He should have seen the signs. The sauna-like heat. The boarded up windows to cast out sunlight. The upside down crosses. The snakeskin book. The Latin. Alpha is not in his body. He's possessed. The Prince of Darkness, The Ruler of the Underworld, The King of Sin. Alpha is possessed by Satan himself. Beta's eyes dart back towards Anna.

The orgasm is nearing completion. It pulses slower now and Anna receives its final moments with grace. She releases the grip of her lips and pulls her head off of it. The tip makes a shluck as it pops out of the cradle it has molded at the entrance to her throat, and Anna releases a gahh. After five long minutes of holding her breath and having her stomach pumped with cum, Anna hinges her jaw back into place, puckers her lips, and kisses Alpha's fat tip.

Then Alpha... Satan... blasts a final burst onto Anna's face, but this burst isn't like the other ones. It's not just a glob. It's a continuous stream. Anna smiles and showers her face in it. The twisted ropes of cum stream across her eyelids, blast her forehead, and coat her smile. Anna accepts the molten ribbons painting her face like a sacrament. Her cheeks shine. It drips from her chin. Anna's face is hidden beneath a wet spider web of cum.

Alpha lowers the book and looks down to Anna and Beta. His eyes are back to normal--no more fire. He laughs sinisterly at Anna and Beta as if overjoyed in victory. Beta is just relieved that whatever that was--whatever he saw in Alpha's eyes--it's over. Alpha bows before them as if some masterpiece is complete. He looks at Beta with a high mocking expression of fake respect, pauses for a moment to hold back another burst of laughter, and says, "You may now.. kiss the bride." He walks away dying in laughter, slapping his thigh, leaving Beta alone with Anna.

-- Communion --

Anna begins turning towards Beta with slow, elegant grace, closing her eyes as she moves. Beta patiently waits for his first time making eye contact with Anna all night. She faces him now--finally. Then she reveals her eyes. They're already focused into his soul. Her irises glow brightly with an enchanting fiery orange and her pupils are in the shape of downward pointing pentagrams. Beta falls back onto his splintered bloody palms, startled.

Beta breathes heavy in fear. But as seconds pass without Anna reacting, Beta's trust rebuilds and his curiosity grows. He checks out her spilled breasts. Then he sees her belly. It bulges so far out that she looks pregnant with gallons of the Dark Lord's cum--or maybe even his offspring. Anna still hasn't reacted. She continues to stare blankly into the space that Beta fell from.

She sticks her cummy tongue out, split down the middle into two sharp points like a reptile, and extends it far out, as long as a serpent's. She licks her lips in a circle then says, "Is Beta going to be a good boy for Mommy?" which blends into an evil, sexy, chilling chuckle.

Beta pushes his way back up to a kneel beside her and he contemplates for a moment as he looks over her cummy face. Her face is an absolute mess--lashes stuck together, cheeks dripping with cum like candle wax, lips shiny like white lip gloss. But she looks peaceful. Peacefully possessed. Almost proud. Her smile is soft, condescending, and devious. This is the moment Beta has been waiting for.

Beta feels his own dry lips and dehydrated mouth. His heart hammers. He rests his eyelids shut and leans in. When his lips meet hers, it isn't a just kiss--it's a seal. Wetness slides between them. A whimper escapes Beta as the warm, slippery-thick cum presses into the corners of his mouth. It's everywhere, clinging like syrup to the space between them. It's dense and gluey, scented with the musk of Alpha's body. Then the taste hits him. Not just salty, but spicy at the tip of his tongue and bitter at the back, proving its potency, marking its territory. Beta moans into it.

His lips glide over hers, feeding off the nourishment of Alpha's--Satan's--orgasm. He licks along the slick seam of her mouth. Anna stays still, lets him lick, and doesn't kiss back. But she parts her lips--just enough for the globs at the top of her throat to spill out. Beta's tongue slips inside,, gathers the globs, and swallows. The texture of the globs is shocking--they're like the gooey center of hard candies that he has to swallow individually. He can taste her too--faint and floral underneath like it's been lost in the distance--lost in time. The cum that coats every inch of her insides now coats his insides too--lips, tongue, teeth, gums, throat, and belly--and he loves the sensation. His whole body buzzes with sick, sweet hunger. He kisses all over her face, licks the corner of her lips, then goes back to her mouth, desperate to gather more.

Anna's serpent tongue begins a slow extension out of her mouth and into his. Beta sucks the cum off of it like he's sucking a dick and he welcomes more tongue as she offers it. It slithers its way deeper into his mouth. It becomes suffocating and Beta's throat resists her entrance. But this is no challenge for Anna. She thrusts her tongue past his pitiful stronghold and into the depths of his throat, cutting off his air supply. Beta's eyes shoot open and Anna's orange pentagram pupils seem to grow brighter in his vision, only inches from his eyes, emitting black smoke as they penetrate his soul.

-- Reconciliation --

Oxygen deprived and warmed with cum, something in Beta buckles. He's been holding it in for weeks--those long nights alone, hunched over his phone, zooming in on her stretched pussy, her gaping throat, and the blurred outline of Alpha's 14 inch cock sliding into his wife who wouldn't even kiss him goodnight. The pressure isn't just arousal--it's a sickness. Jealousy metastasized into hunger.

Now it's all cracking loose. His breath hitches. His body lurches. He moans around her tongue--pathetic and needy--and he sucks her tongue sloppy now, his jaw trembling as cum sloshes everywhere.

His hips twitch. Once. Twice. The heat in his belly flashes downward. And then it happens. He cums in his pants.

No stimulation. No touch. No permission. A short, desperate whine trapped in his lungs as his little penis jumps around nervously, spraying thin watery spurts into his briefs. Weak pulses, the climax of a man who hasn't been touched in years. It isn't pleasure at all--it's relief. A humiliating, aching release.

And then his aftershock. His stomach clenches, and his bladder lets go. Hot piss releases fast, uncontainable, clinging to his thighs, soaking down his pants, and puddling around his knees. Beta ignores it and keeps deepthroating Anna tongue, submissive to her just as he promised.

-- Confirmation --

Anna shoves Beta back, ripping her tongue from his throat like a sword from a wound. He collapses onto his back, stunned and breathless. She rises seductively to her feet and begins to touch herself with a new kind of sluttiness Beta hasn't even seen in the footage--mechanically sensual, ritualistic and possessed.

Her palms roll over her breasts, kneading her flesh like dough. She pinches her nipples between her nails and grips her own throat so hard she almost strangles herself. Her hips sway, but her eyes--those burning pentagrams--never leave Beta's.

Then Alpha emerges from the shadows behind Anna. He takes hold of her dress's zipper and drags it down her spine in one smooth motion. It pools at her feet like peeled skin. She stands in the center of it like Possessed Barbie, carved from white marble, baptized in hot candle wax, the cum Beta failed to drink making her body gleam in the flicker of the tea lights.

She steps free from it, statuesque and naked. Her black high heels tap the splintered floor like she's starting a countdown. She stalks towards Beta's sprawled body, her heels knocking the wood like hammering coffin nails, punctuating her countdown. She places one heel on each side of Beta's face.

Her puffy pussy and perfect ass tower high above, casting a shadow over Beta like a total solar eclipse. From this angle, she's everything. A womanly figure he's unworthy to receive. A fertilized womb he's unworthy to witness.

Anna fondles her breasts again and twists her nipples. She bends at the hips, tilts her pelvis forward, and arches her back. She sinks into a low squat, closing the gap between her cunt and Beta's face. Her thighs press tightly to her calves. Beta can feel his own breath reflect off her pussy back onto his face. Anna doesn't speak a word, but Beta understands the command. It's not a question. Not a choice.

Beta lifts his head without hesitation, closes his eyes, and worships. He shoves his tongue into her tunnel and begins making love to it. He curls and presses and flicks her sacred insides, finally tasting what he's been craving for months. Anna's fingers twist into his hair and she grinds her hips, slowly fucking his face like his mouth was made for this and nothing else.

Then, something brushes Beta's balls. Not a hand. Not air. Not Anna. A slow, creeping pressure coils around his sack. Like string. No--wire. Cold. It cinches. Then tightens again. Tighter. It strangles every tender tube. His stomach lurches. He gasps against Anna's cunt--but she shoves her cunt harder over his face.

The pressure becomes agony, then something worse: a silent snap. Ringing.

Silence, and then the high-pitched scream of nothingness. His ears buzz with high-pitched static. His spine shakes, not with panic, but with full-bodied, unspeakable comprehension. Alpha severed his testicles.

He tries to scream, but Anna's hips smother out the last of his protest. Beta submits to it, then he drowns deeper in it. The sensation becomes dull. His tongue thrashes inside Anna, not for pleasure now but for survival. He makes out with her slutty unfaithful cunt like it's the last air left in the world, like it's his only lifeline.

Then searing heat presses into his dull ache. Alpha shoves a hot iron against the raw skin between Beta's legs, cauterizing the wound, and branding it with a pentagram. Beta's hard little penis twitches, like it's standing at the attention of the iron, jerking in time with each searing press like it's saluting its master. There's no cry. No escape. Only the dull roar of the ringing in his ears as the hot iron sizzles between his legs where his pathetic manhood used to attach.

And then, silence. Real silence. The fear has vanished. The shame has disappeared. Jealousy has been lifted away. And all that's left is peace. Stillness. Anna above him, fucking his face. And Alpha behind her, removing his manhood so all that's left is the pure, peaceful shell of a man--a cuckold.

Beta feels transcendence wash over him and cleanse his soul like he's been placed into a mold that's the exact shape of him.

His tongue swirls in Anna's tunnel and his lips kiss her folds, not desperate this time, but grateful. At last, he's home. With Anna. And Alpha made it so.