Tara’s Peachy Throne of Power
Meet my latest toy: a sniveling little bitch boy named Timmy. 5’6″, skinny, trembling, with a pathetic excuse for a dick that barely twitches when he’s scared. He begged to serve me—Tara—the dominant shemale with a thick, veiny, 12-inch monster cock that makes grown men cry. I laughed in his face and told him to strip. He did, instantly, knees shaking like a leaf.
“On your back, bitch,” I growled. He scrambled onto the bed, legs spread wide like the desperate slut he is. I straddled his chest first, my heavy balls dragging across his chin as I slapped my massive girl-cock against his cheek—thwack, thwack—leaving sticky precum trails. “Open that whore mouth.” He obeyed, tongue out, eyes watering already. I fed him the head, stretching his lips wide, then pushed deeper until he gagged. “That’s it, choke on Goddess Tara’s huge dick. This is what real cock feels like, loser.”
He slurped and sucked like his life depended on it, drool running down his chin, but I wasn’t here for gentle. I pulled out, flipped him over roughly, and yanked his hips up—ass high, face down in the pillows. “Beg for it, bitch boy.” “Please, Goddess Tara,” he whimpered, “fuck my tight hole with your big cock. Ruin me.” Pathetic. I spat on his puckered ass, rubbed my throbbing shaft along his crack, then slammed in—one brutal thrust burying half my length inside him. He screamed, body jerking, but I didn’t stop. I gripped his waist and pounded deeper, balls slapping his taint with every savage stroke.
His little dick flopped uselessly beneath him, leaking pre-cum onto the sheets while I reamed his ass open. “Feel that, wimp? That’s a real cock owning you.” I reached around, pinched his tiny nipples hard, making him yelp. Faster now—wet, filthy sounds filling the room as my huge shaft pistoned in and out, stretching him wide, claiming every inch. He was babbling nonsense, ass clenching around me, trying to milk my load. But I control the pace. I control everything.
When I felt him start to shake—on the edge without even touching his worthless clit—I pulled out suddenly, leaving him gaping and empty. “No cumming for you, bitch.” I stroked my slick cock over his back, then exploded—thick ropes of hot cum painting his spine, dripping down his crack. He sobbed in frustration, humping the air like a dog in heat. “Clean it up with your tongue,” I ordered. He did—lapping his own back like the degraded cum-slut he is.
Timmy left limping, ass sore, dignity gone, but begging to come back for more. That’s what happens when a wimpy bitch boy meets Tara’s huge, dominant cock. I fuck. I ruin. I own.
Think you’re next? Crawl to me and prove you can take it.