Mona Wales Trains Her New Beta Bitch Boytoy

DJ walks into Mona Wales' vintage shop like any other lost beta, and she already knows he's hers. She smiles like a cat. Then she strips him, straps him into a straight-jacket, and shoves him down onto her stocking feet. He licks like he was born for it. When she asks if he'll be her boyfriend, he says yes before the word even leaves her mouth. So she tests him. She crops his cock raw, slaps the shock off his face, then drops her cunt over it and grinds until she soaks his tongue. She sits on his face, smothers him, forces him to lap her asshole clean while he chokes on her smell. When she comes, she gets suspicious—too eager, too practiced. She flips him over, spanks him purple, makes him swear he'll be her slave forever. Next time he surfaces, he's bolted in a box with his head locked tight. Mona flogs his back until it blooms, then she leaves him in the dark to think about what he really is: just another piece of her furniture. When the lid opens again, her thick strap-on is already shiny with lube. Ten inches slams home. DJ howls, but she keeps pounding until her own orgasm rips through her and she spits on his back like thanks. Later she wants the real thing. She mounts his cock, plants her feet on his face, orders him not to look. She rides until she squirts across his chest, cursing him the whole time, promising he'll never come again if he stays her boyfriend. DJ nods, dizzy, already broken in, and watches her walk away like the good, empty thing he is now.