Thank you to everybody reaching out by email to show their support. I see your need to submit, and it's hot.
Here is the second part - this is a condensed version of the full-length story, which delves deeper into Roberto and Francesco's connection and is available on Amazon Kindle. Experience Roberto's awakening and Francesco's power trip and their full, unfiltered journey here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DRPG8QCM/
Also please consider donating to Nifty, which allows you to experience this submission trip for free: https://donate.nifty.org/).
Francesco awoke to the soft light of dawn spilling into his room, the memory of the previous night still vivid in his mind. Stretching leisurely, he replayed the exchange with Roberto--a man whose vulnerability had caught him off guard. Roberto's eager submission wasn't just arousing; it lingered with a weight Francesco couldn't shake.
Rising from bed, Francesco moved to the bathroom. As he stood before the mirror, his reflection stared back--his broad, sturdy frame exuding confidence. His cock, thick and hanging heavily, was a testament to his natural dominance, a fact he rarely had to think about but that was always present in these exchanges. In the shower, the hot water coursed over him as he envisioned Roberto's muscular body kneeling, the bold words "Francesco's property" scrawled across his chest. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Drying off, Francesco found himself thinking beyond the physical exchange. His usual indulgence in size comparisons was harmless fun, a boost to his ego. But Roberto was different. There was an emotional rawness, a need for validation, that intrigued Francesco in ways he didn't fully understand.
Back in his bedroom, Francesco leaned against the doorframe, his mind swirling with thoughts of Roberto. He wrapped a firm hand around his thick cock, already heavy and aching with arousal. Stroking slowly, he replayed Roberto's messages in his head--the photo of him marked with "Francesco's property," the whispered affirmations, the growing devotion. Francesco's breath quickened as his movements intensified, his pleasure building with every vivid image of Roberto's surrender. Moments later, he climaxed, his release carrying a sense of satisfaction that was as much about control as it was about the act itself.
With a steaming cup of espresso in hand, he opened his phone to find a message from Roberto--a detailed recounting of his obedience. Francesco read it slowly, savoring every word. Then, with deliberate care, he typed his response: "Good morning, pet. Tell me, how does it feel to wake up knowing you belong to me?"
Roberto's reply arrived almost immediately, brimming with raw honesty. He described how the act of submission--the words inked on his chest, the whispered affirmations--felt both terrifying and liberating. He spoke of shedding the persona he had worn for years, of discovering a truth he had long buried.
Francesco leaned back in his chair, reading Roberto's words with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity. There was power in Roberto's surrender, but also vulnerability--a trust that Francesco hadn't anticipated. It was intoxicating.
"Good boy," Francesco replied, his tone measured but commanding. "Your submission pleases me. Today, I want you to deepen that connection. Small acts, deliberate reminders--every moment you can, think of your place."
He outlined simple instructions: whenever Roberto found himself alone, he was to whisper "I belong to Francesco." Every glance at his reflection was to remind him of his role. And, whenever using the restroom, he was to look at his modest member and acknowledge his inferiority.
The simplicity of the commands was deliberate. Francesco wanted to ensure that Roberto's submission became woven into the fabric of his day--ordinary acts transformed into affirmations of devotion.
Setting his phone down, Francesco stared out the window, the morning sunlight casting patterns across his desk. This wasn't just a game anymore. Roberto's vulnerability stirred something deeper in Francesco, a sense of responsibility that both thrilled and unsettled him. For all the dominance he enjoyed, there was a growing realization that the dynamic demanded more than control. It required care.
As the day unfolded, Francesco found himself distracted by thoughts of Roberto. Between work emails and meetings, he reread their exchange, his arousal mingling with a growing sense of connection. He was used to the thrill of online dominance, but Roberto's submission felt different--personal, raw, and real.
By midday, Francesco's phone buzzed with another message. Roberto had followed every command, he reported, detailing how he whispered affirmations whenever alone and stared at his reflection as instructed. Each act had deepened his sense of belonging.
Francesco's lips curled into a smile as he typed his response: "Good boy. Your devotion is becoming second nature, isn't it? Tell me, how does it feel to surrender control so completely?"
Roberto's reply came quickly: "It feels... right, Sir. Like I've found a part of myself I didn't know was missing. But it's humbling too, knowing I exist for your pleasure."
Reading those words, Francesco felt a pang of pride--and something more. His cock stirred at the thought, its girth and weight a symbol of the power Roberto willingly yielded to. Power came easily to him, but Roberto's trust felt like a gift, fragile and valuable. For the first time, Francesco questioned what this connection might mean, not just for Roberto but for himself.
He glanced down, the weight of his cock a silent testament to the authority he commanded, an unspoken emblem of the power dynamic that defined their connection. For a moment, Francesco let himself wonder what it would feel like to have Roberto on his knees in person--submissive, reverent, and completely his.
As he set down his phone, Francesco leaned back and exhaled. Roberto was giving himself over, piece by piece. And with every step, Francesco felt the lines between control and care begin to blur.