The Hand that Feeds

by K.M. Mixon

“If you put them in your mouth and crawl them over to me, I’ll take them,” he says coolly, as if he’s given me any other mundane command.

My center clenches at the idea of being his, and I’m ripped from the worry building at how comfortable I am thinking of myself as Neo’s when he shoves too far down my throat, and I gag. “Sloppy, inattentive girls don’t get fed. Don’t you want your breakfast?” he grunts, holding both sides of my face and tipping it upward as he tugs his cock out of my open mouth.