As my bf is asleep next to me…” he whispers.
We both know exactly why.
That “bf”? Just a placeholder. A soft, forgettable beta.
Me? I’m the one he feels. The one he craves. The one he answers to.
I’m the standard.
The man he thinks about even when I’m not there.
He knows who the real man is.
He knows who’s in control.
And deep down…
He knows he was never really his to begin with.
Body hair? Gone. Fake “manhood”? Gone. Ability to cum? Gone. Having men as friends? Gone too.
Piece by piece, I’m taking away everything that made her think she was still one of the guys. Now she even calls me daddy.