Chapter 8
by 
Yelawolf
He...
Rates a ten
Betabreaker's response is delayed, the tension thickening like a fog in the digital space between you. Finally, he sends his rating: "10."
You stare at the number, a mix of shock and exhilaration coursing through you. He's admitted defeat, handed you the keys to his soul with that simple digit. The thrill of victory is like a ****, making your heart race and your cock throb in anticipation of what's to come. You savor the moment, basking in the power that now flows through your fingertips.
With a wicked smile, you type out your next move. "Since you liked that so much, I think you've earned a special task. I want you to put on a pair of your wife's panties, snap a picture, and upload it to your profile. And remember, no deleting it." You hit send, watching the message disappear into the digital ether.
The anticipation is like a ticking bomb in the chat, each second stretching out like an eternity. Finally, you receive a notification. Betabreaker has sent a new picture. You open it, expecting the worst, but instead, you find yourself looking at a selfie of him in a pair of frilly, pink panties, his cock straining against the fabric.
His expression is one of pure, unadulterated humiliation—exactly what you were hoping for. You can't help but feel a surge of triumph.
As you revel in your victory, his messages start to come in, each one a whimper of defeat. "Please don't make me do this," he begs, his words a stark contrast to the smugness from earlier. "I can't let anyone see me like this." The desperation in his voice is palpable, and you revel in it, feeling your power over him grow with every trembling word he types.
You reply with a simple, "Do it," enjoying the way he squirms at your command. You know he's torn—his pride fighting against the overwhelming need to obey, to submit to the superior being that you've proven yourself to be. The silence stretches on, and you wonder if he's actually going to follow through.
Then, you see his status update. The picture of him in pink panties is uploaded, his face a mask of misery and humiliation. It's a glorious sight, a testament to your dominance. His whimpers in the chat grow more pronounced, his words now a jumble of pleas and curses. "You've won," he finally admits, his defeat stark and unmistakable.
You can't help but chuckle at his predicament. "I would asked if you're already submitting," you type, a hint of mockery in your voice. "But it seems like you've made that quite clear." You lean back in your chair, feeling the warmth spread through you as you bask in the sweet victory. You've claimed another beta, another man to add to your growing collection of online playthings.
The chat is quiet for a moment, the digital air heavy with the scent of defeat. Then, with a resigned sigh, you receive another selfie, one for your trophy case. Betabreaker's cute, pale ass is framed by the thin strip of fabric from his wife's thong. His cheeks are pushed together, giving you a perfect view of his tight, pink hole. It's a sight that would make any man with a hint of submission in their soul quiver with desire and fear. You can almost see the red blush creeping up his neck, the embarrassment in his eyes.
"Do you like master?" He asks, his voice a barely audible whisper.
The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his submission. You can see the hope in his eyes, the **** need for your approval. You lean back in your chair, taking in the image of him in his wife's panties, his cock straining against the fabric. You know he's waiting for your response, for the sweet sound of your validation.