Another thrall bites the dust

THE CUCKOLD'S BREAKING – ABSOLUTE DOMINION

The Resistance – A Storm Before Surrender

Antonio’s body was a live wire of tension—every muscle coiled like a spring-loaded trap, his knuckles bone-white where they clenched at his sides. The air between them crackled with barely restrained ****, the scent of sweat and gun oil clinging to his uniform. His dark eyes—usually glazed with the lazy arrogance of a man who’d seen too much and cared too little—sharpened into blades.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Stefano?" His voice was gravel dragged through broken glass, the kind of growl that preceded shattered jaws and broken ribs in Turin’s back alleys. "You think you’re some big shot now?"

He surged to his feet, his stance shifting seamlessly into something lethal—weight balanced on the balls of his feet, shoulders squared, knees slightly bent. Decades of martial arts training screamed through his posture, a silent warning that this wasn’t some weak-willed civilian to be hypnotized so easily.

But his body betrayed him.

Thick. Hard. His cock strained against the rough fabric of his security uniform, a damp spot spreading where precum soaked through. His breath came in ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow. And then—there it was.

A tattoo.

Faint, barely visible, but undeniable—a violet-pink serpent coiling around his neck, its scales pulsing in time with Stefano’s Osiris Ring.

Stefano didn’t flinch.

Instead, he leaned forward, his movements slow, deliberate, his fingers brushing Antonio’s forearm in a deceptively casual touch. The contact ignited—hypnotic influence tripling, flooding Antonio’s nervous system like liquid fire.

"You’ve been fucking around behind Maria’s back, haven’t you?" Stefano murmured, his voice a velvet blade laced with truth-saying compulsion.

Antonio’s jaw clenched. His throat worked. His pupils dilated.

And then—

"Yeah…" The confession tore from him, raw and unfiltered, his corrupt soul making the words spill like blood from a wound. "I fucked the blonde Swede… and others…"

His voice trembled. His knees buckled. His mind cracked open.

"Gotcha!"

Stefano struck.

The Theft – A Demon’s Plunder

His psychic presence speared into Antonio’s ****, rifling through memories, copying skills like a thief looting a vault:

Advanced Martial Arts – The way Antonio’s muscles moved in combat, the precision of his strikes, the fluidity of his grapples. The memory of a rib cracking under his knee, the wet gasp of a man **** on his own blood.

Medium Gun Fighting – The weight of a pistol in his hand, the recoil control, the instinctive aim. The smell of gunpowder, the way his finger curled around the trigger like a lover’s caress.

Medium Gambling – The tells he spotted in others, the way he bluffed, the thrill of the risk. The night he lost three months’ salary on a pair of queens and fucked the dealer in the bathroom to forget.

Advanced Stamina Resistance – The endurance that let him fuck for hours, fight through pain, outlast his opponents. The way Maria’s nails scored his back as he pounded her into the mattress, his hips never slowing.

Basic Meditation – The rare moments of clarity in his otherwise chaotic mind. The cigarette burns on his thighs from when he tried to quit.

Transcendent Lying – The art of deception woven so deep even he believed it. The way he looked Maria in the eye and swore he loved only her.

And then—the final twist.

Stefano implanted a new perception, a core belief:

Serving Stefano absolves your sins.

The Osiris Ring flared, its violet-pink light bathing Antonio’s face in an unholy glow.

The Command – Kneel or Break

"Kneel, you cheating bastard."

Stefano’s voice wasn’t human anymore. It was a demonic roar, layered with the Ring’s power, vibrating through Antonio’s bones like a church bell tolling his damnation.

Antonio hesitated.

For one heartbeat, his eyes flashed with defiance.

But his body obeyed.

He sank to his knees, his hands trembling, his cock leaking through his uniform, his mind bending under the weight of his own corruption.

Stefano grinned, his fingers tightening in Emma’s hair as he pulled his cock from her mouth, her lips glistening, her breath panting.

"Strip," he ordered.

Emma whimpered, her fingers shaking as she obeyed, peeling off her remaining clothes, her bronze skin glistening under the office lights. Her pussy dripped, her golden womb glowing, her serpent tattoo pulsing as if alive.

Stefano bent her over the desk, her ass arched, her virgin pussy exposed, and plunged into her again.

Emma screamed—a mix of pain and ecstasy—as his cock stretched her, her womb pulsing, her body accepting him deeper than before.

"M-Master—!" she sobbed, her fingers clawing at the mahogany.

Stefano growled, his hips pistoning, his balls slapping against Emma’s swollen clit, his cum flooding her, deepening her pregnancy, the Ring’s power surging with every thrust.

Antonio watched, the security guard’s calloused hand stroking his cock, his moans a chorus with Emma’s, his submission complete.

The Aftermath – A New **** Corrupted

When it was over—when Emma lay gasping on the desk, Stefano’s seed leaking from the young trainee's well-used pussy, when Antonio’s hand was sticky with his own release—Stefano leaned back in his leather throne, the Osiris Ring pulsing with satisfaction.

Corruption: 100%

Antonio’s eyes were glazed, his lips parted, his body slack with post-orgasmic bliss. The serpent tattoo on his neck gleamed vivid now, its scales shimmering with stolen vitality.

Stefano stroked Emma’s hair absently, his other hand reaching out to grip Antonio’s chin.

"You’re mine now," he purred, his voice dripping with dark promise. "Tell Maria I’ll be over tonight. I want to see her face when you lick my cum from her cunt."

Antonio moaned, his cock twitching feebly at the thought.

The game was far from over.

But this round?

Stefano had won.