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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Anonymous asked:

With all due respect Mister X I've been a follower for ages now and can honestly say your art and ideas about exploiting people at the end of their rope shouldn't irk you. You Sir show an expert understanding of the line between the fantasy of taking control of people like that and the reality where one should not. You are a controlled and respectful Master Mister X and should not be irked by your fantasies. Apologies for being too shy to say so without the anon mask Sir.

I appreciate that.

Past experience has made me paranoid. People who don’t know when fantasy stops. The knowledge that these sorts of things actually happen in the world.

Survivor’s guilt without actually being a survivor. :p

Also, don’t be shy, lil’ anon. I’m not scary. ;)

Anonymous asked:

What about combining the Pawn Shop scenario with that old story of yours (where the boy gets a magic cock ring that severs his dick, but he can still feel everything that's done to it)? Too outlandish?

That was kind of the premise for where that story was going.

But in this pawn shop I was picture it as willing victims who are at the end of their rope. I’m noticing a theme in my topics… I don’t know if this sort of exploiting vulnerability should irk me…

Scenario

Two boys are kidnapped or voluntarily brought into a full-time slave relationship. They don’t know each other, they haven’t seen each other. They live blind folded. Slowly they are made aware of each other - forced rimming, duo-bondage, etc. They are not allowed to communicate. They know that there is ‘someone else’.

A Desk Job - Chapter 4, Part 4

This was not the first day that Fenton expected. It was worse than anything he could have imagined. He felt so low. Each of Exham’s words stung with their truth and the smug tone of his voice. 

He really had no choice.

Fenton lowered himself down onto all fours, his face burning with shame, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He knew Mr Exham was looking up from his desk now. The youth could feel the smirk on the man’s face, the knowledge of his power over Fenton. For a moment he fumbled with the laces on his shoes before flipping them awkwardly off, leaving them splayed on the ground.

Slowly Fenton inched his way over to the great black wood desk. It loomed massively over him, as did its occupant. Unsure of what to do now, Fenton just remained there, glancing up.

He wanted to cry. Just bury his face in his hands and sob. Fenton knew his face was red and his features contorted as he fought back the tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Good boy.” Mister Exham said. Fenton expected it to sound sarcastic but the man seemed sincere in his praise. Fenton couldn’t speak, only sniffle loudly as he battled the runny-nose that accompanied heavy crying.

a desk job story misterx story

A Desk Job - Chapter 4, Part 3

Fenton didn’t budge. His mouth hung gaping like a stunned fish.

“W…wha?” Was the best he could manage. That fucking piece of shit. Fenton’s thoughts blurred. Was this all a power trip? Why was he hammering this in. Fenton already felt like nothing for coming back to this job. How could he get any lower?

“You know what I said.”

“I…”

“You don’t have a job until you sign the papers. You don’t sign the papers until you are over here, beside my desk, on hands and knees like the little animal you are.”

Fenton squeaked. It was not dignified. He could not believe what he was hearing. He was agog. The teen could not form a cohesive sentence. He sputtered and stuttered.

“I … you …” He slouched. “You … you can’t treat people like this! I’m leaving. I’ll find another job.”

Exham didn’t look up from the paperwork he was sorting through (a habit that was really grating on Fenton’s already split nerves). “No you won’t. You’re going to stay right here.

"I know you, Fenton Brenton. I know your family’s situation. I know why you came back. I also know that you’re the one I want for this job.

"I’m paying you excessively for your self-respect, your dignity, and your consent. You won’t get a better offer for any of those. You’re untalented, unskilled, and unremarkable. You need this job.

"Now remove your shoes, get down on your hands and knees, and crawl over here, boy.”

a desk job story misterx story

Anonymous asked:

Is ther a possibility of seeing a depiction of 'Furniture Fenton' (when the time is right, of course)? Also: Puppy-Fenton & Leather-Fenton?

It is something I’d like to see. But as always with my art, no promises. :p My muses and moods are annoyingly fickle. I am willing to take suggestions for what ‘furniture fenton’ is.