It started in phases. Noticing how aroused I became when I watched a partner fucking another woman. Opting to watch. "I'm just not in the mood", I'd lie. The photos of her bent over with my man buried deep inside her, the videos of him focused on her, pleasing her, they became my bible. I'd get off to those photos and videos for years, never really labeling it.

The next phase I found myself being "the other woman" of sorts. The Alpha Sub, the one that gets all the attention and praise. I'd revel in that attention. But still, there was a jealousy bubbling in me directed at his beta, his little cuckquean. Why was I, the one getting all the attention, jealous of a fucking beta? She should mean nothing, and yet, I wanted to be her.

Later, more recently, that feeling would keep bubbling inside me. A gentle voice in the dark corners of my mind reminding me that I wanted to be like her, wanted to be her. Until I finally wanted to test the waters. Am I a lowly beta? Worthless? Maybe I'll take it for a spin. Just try it a little. Dip my toes in.

Instead, I fell into the deep end, head first.

I mulled over His first message more than anyone else's. It seemed specific. It was so lengthy, I thought it was just something He would copy and paste to any self-proclaimed beta or cuckquean. But there was one line that kept looping in my head, "Seeing every other girl in the room and picking up on how they are better than you". How did he know?

Earlier that day, I caught myself observing the family dog during a get together. Everyone was talking, engrossed in laughter, paying no mind to the dog who only wanted to play. He sat on his butt, upper body perked up, sparkly eyes moving back and forth between all members of the family. His ball lay in front of his front paws, tongue slightly out. And he simply waited. Patiently. For anyone to pay attention to him. He seemed happy for even the slightest possibility that someone would play with him eventually. I could see myself in him in that moment. It felt like a light bulb finally went off in my mind.

So when my mysterious online suitor became a mirror of the things I was just now starting to feel and experience, I dove in. What's the harm?

He had an air of superiority about him. Control. Confidence. Power. Hundreds of others would claim themselves to be better, strong, capable, but He claimed nothing. He simply was. Innately. With little effort. His words were a waltz in the forest on a moonlit night.

I'm not sure when I started to fall. If could have been during the detailing of my usefulness to Him and Her as an object. A foot stool, a coat rack, a cum rag. He talked a lot about Her at the beginning and I didn't mind because it's what I wanted. It's what I asked for, and He was giving me that. What I hadn't realized was how infrequently His communication would happen. Once a day. Maybe twice if I was lucky. If His response was mostly about her, where would that leave me? I'd get the scraps.

I was becoming what I had been jealous of. I was becoming a beta. I was the beta. I had to feed myself on the scraps He would give me. I was slowly molding into the family dog, I realized, waiting on my ass. Wagging my tail until He decided to pay two minutes of attention to me before going back to better things.

He was getting inside me. He was poisoning me. And I didn't resist Him. Why would I? He was pain in human form, and I wanted to hurt. It took less than a week for the obsession to take control. Days, even. He was the drug, and I needed a hit. His words were becoming my new Bible, and I wanted to live in the church. The scraps He fed me, my only sustenance.

No one else compared, so everyone else fell away. All that mattered to me was how to get more of Him inside of me. All my thoughts became thoughts of him. He might as well be the air I breathe, the water I drink, the walls that protect me. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

I've become what I imagined I was. I opened Pandora's box and He found me. Has been molding me, forming me, feeding me. I don't know what He has planned for me, and I don't care. I've found myself at the feet of a deity to worship. Addicted to worshiping Him.

I wait for Him, neediness and despair accompanying me. My desperate obsession, my only friend. Waiting for an ounce of attention, a few seconds of his voice, a gentle caress, pain. Waiting for Him to ruin me. To set me ablaze. To destroy me. The architect of my demise.

"You cum hardest to the thought of being less than. Less than what? Everything. Everyone. In every way."