Look at the screen, you pathetic, fat-assed little creature. Do you understand the magnitude of the biological catastrophe you’ve just stumbled into?
And I am looking for a very specific kind of prey.
I don’t want your "aesthetic" thinness. I want the weight. I want the heavy-bottomed, fat-assed, soft-bellied fuckpiggies who carry the biological markers of a breeding sow. I want the meat. I want those of you with asses so wide they deserve their own zip code, thighs that jiggle with every trembling step, and cunts that weep like broken dams at the mere scent of a superior predator.
Look at me. Describe my physique in your mind until your panties shred under the pressure of your own arousal. My shoulders are vast, sloping plates of granite, roped with veins like the roots of ancient, dark woods. My chest is a fortress of scarred, dense muscle - a wall of heat that will press the very dignity from your lungs. My hands are massive, calloused, and cruel; they are instruments of absolute dominion that have moved billions of dollars in a single morning and will move your internal organs into new, agonizingly perfect arrangements by nightfall.
And beneath the bespoke, midnight-silk of my trousers? The reason you are shaking.
It is a monolithic obscenity. A thick, veined, heavy scepter of dark, pulsating virility - built like a battering ram of obsidian and gristle. It is an instrument of breeding warfare, a crown-headed god of a cock that doesn't just fuck - it annexes. It is the physical manifestation of your total biological colonization. It is the heavy, thrumming secret that will turn you from a woman into a leaking, stuttering piece of furniture.
I am going to break you, you fat, delicious little sow.
I’m going to haul you into my sanctum, rip that cheap fabric from your soft, heavy frame, and force you onto all fours until your fat ass is hoisted toward the heavens like a sacrificial altar. I will stand behind you, a shadow that eclipses your entire world, and I will degrade you with the precision of a scientist. I’ll call you exactly what you are: a breeding pig. A hollow, needy receptacle for a Warlord’s surplus. A meat-slab with a pulse.
I will use my massive hands to knead your heavy thighs, bruising the soft flesh to remind you who owns the geography of your body. I will slap that fat ass until the room echoes with the sound of your submission, watching the ripples of your greed vibrate under my palms.
And when I enter you? There will be no mercy. There will be no "love."
It will be a raw, visceral, primal invasion. I will drive my thick, dark length into you until my hips slam against your spine, bottoming out in the dark, hot silt of your womb. I want to feel your small, pathetic internals stretch and tear as I rewire your brain through your cunt. I will fuck you with the rhythmic, piston-like efficiency of a machine designed to end lineages.
I’ll call you every foul, bitch-breaking name in my vast, sophisticated vocabulary while I rearrange your guts. “Meri raand,” “My fat little breeding sow,” “My pathetic, leaking fuck-hole.” You will take every punishing, bone-deep thrust because your body recognizes the absolute authority of my seed.
I’m going to flood you. I’m going to pump load after hot, thick, genetically superior load into your depths until you are heavy with me. Until you are quivering on the floor, a broken, used-up mess, leaking my midnight-cream onto the marble.
The Mandate:
- Message me your weight and your measurements.
- Describe the way your fat ass sways when you walk.
- Tell me why a Dom like me should bother staining your pathetic womb.
- Address me as "Sire," "Lord,", "Maalik", or "Master."
If you are a sweet, heavy-set fuckpiggie looking to be ruined, broken, and perpetually pregnant by the apex predator of the modern age... crawl.
Now.
Kinks: Extreme degradation, bitchbreaking, breeding, body worship (of my frame), weight play, deep-stretch, heavy creampies, primal dominance.