Don't you sometimes feel my eyes on your back, your ass, your crotch? I feel you wither as I watch you, but you never run from my secret gaze. Where can you hide from me where you're not also hiding from your own life and destiny?
Where will I take you? That's a good question. It shows you are beginning to accept the certain fact that I will take you.
Sometimes, I imagine I will stop you on the street on your way home from work and simply explain your destiny for you. Will you succumb and submit your ass to me in the nearest alley or rest room, or will you resist? I know such resistance would only be for show. Should I take you in your workplace, spoiling your hard-won reputation with your co-workers with a long, lingering kiss with plenty of tongue? Perhaps, I should take you in your own marriage bed, penetrating your ass with my cock while your wife looks on. Do these thoughts make you squeal inwardly?
I understand that your old life pulls at you, begging to be saved, but you must know your own impulses will not be denied. I doubt you'll run; I expect you will wait anxiously for me. I enjoy watching you fight against your destiny, but it's effort wasted in a lost cause. In your heart, you know you're already mine.
Run if you like though. I enjoy the chase, even if it's not sporting when you can take the prey anytime you like. There's nowhere you can go that I won't find you.
How will I take you? Good question; it shows me you are taking an interest. To answer your question, I dream it differently every time I think of it.
I usually imagine myself dominating your pie-hole first. In these visions, you are in your rightful place: on your knees before me. Your mouth waters involuntarily as you widen your jaws to receive me. I press my cock deep in your mouth before your lips close over the shaft. I hear you sputter and cough as my dick pushes to the back of your mouth. My hips flex as my cock saws back and forth in your wet hole. I fuck your face with ever-increasing force and speed until I am ready to withdraw. My well-pleasured cock erupts with burst after burst of semen, which I aim with care; the cum is in your hair and on your face and the drops leave permanent stains on your clothes. Still kneeling before me, you look at me through cum-glazed eyes and realize you are absolutely where you belong.
Other times, I dream of taking your ass at our first encounter. I imagine confronting you and telling you that I know about you and your secret desires. You will fear blackmail and follow me to discuss the matter, but there will be no discussion beyond me giving you your instructions. I yank off your suit jacket and throw it on the ground. Then I lean you over a public toilet, or a metal garbage can or a photocopierβit all depends where we happen to beβand you wait with an automatic submissiveness that surprises only you. I reach around from behind you, unbuckling your belt and tearing your pants open. The zipper is ruined, but you don't care as I pull both your underwear and your pants down to your ankles. I thrust my throbbing erection into your pulsating orifice. Don't worry, I've lubed both cock and hole; I'm not a sadist. Just the same, you cry out in agony as your ass is probed for the first time. It is the sound of your rebirth into a new life. The initial pain quickly passes as my cock penetrates you deeply over and over again with countless strokes. At first, you meekly let me fuck you, but as the minutes pass, you become an active participant. You meet my thrusts with your own and when I orgasm in your ass, spewing my semen in your bowels, you are close to climax as well. I leave my cock inside you while you masturbate, shocked at your own behaviour. Your ass clenches when you come, adding to my pleasure. I have given you your first lesson in man-sex: in future, you will often come with my cock up your ass. You will be conditioned to associate my cock with pleasure.
Sometimes, in my dreams, I turn you out in private circumstances; other times you are outed publicly in front of family, friends and co-workers. Either way, you sit and cry at my feet, already knowing your old life is ended; you cling to me as if I am your only possible future, which, of course, I am. Your wife, your children, your work, your church... all come after me in the reordering of your priorities.
Why do I want to do this to you?
Believe it or not, I'm not doing this for myself, but for you. You have hidden your submissive side under the disguise of a bold, commanding male, but the masquerade takes its toll. You're tired of it all, aren't you? They all look to you for guidance, direction and support, but you know you're not good enough to fulfil these demands, and who is there for you?
Only me.