"Desire Unleashed"

As Marcus's presence loomed over him, Regulus felt a familiar flutter in his chest. It wasn't fear, nor was it excitement; it was something deeper, a primal desire that had been ingrained in him since he was old enough to understand his own body. He had grown to associate sex with power, with control, and with the fleeting moments of affection that he so desperately craved. Regulus's eyes locked onto Marcus, and he could see the anticipation building in the man's eyes. He knew what was coming, and a part of him was already there, waiting. The memories of the previous night's encounters were still hazy, but the sensations lingered, a gentle hum of pleasure that seemed to course through his veins. As Marcus reached out to grab him, Regulus didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned into the touch, his body responding to the familiar caress. It was a Pavlovian response, one that had been conditioned into him over years of abuse. But amidst the pain and the trauma, Regulus had discovered a strange, twisted sense of liberation. He loved sex. He loved the way it made him feel, the rush of endorphins, and the sense of control that came with it. He was a cum slut, a whore, a cunt boy – labels that had been hurled at him like epithets, but which he had reclaimed as his own. Regulus's gaze drifted down to his lap, where a telltale stain on his pants hinted at his readiness. He felt a flush rise to his cheeks, but it wasn't shame; it was arousal. He was a slave to his desires, and he knew it. Marcus's hands closed around his wrists, pulling him off the couch and into a world of forbidden pleasure. Regulus didn't resist; he never did. Instead, he let himself be led, his body surrendering to the familiar rhythms of pain and pleasure. As they moved through the house, Regulus caught glimpses of himself in the mirrors that hung on the walls. His eyes gleamed with a feral light, his pupils dilated with desire. He was a boy no more, but a creature driven by primal urges, a cum-hungry beast unleashed upon the world. The door to his room creaked open, and Regulus was pulled inside, his fate awaiting him on the bed. He didn't struggle; he never did. Instead, he let himself be taken, his body a willing participant in the twisted games that he loved to play. As Marcus loomed over him, Regulus's eyes flashed with a message: he was ready, he was eager, and he was willing to take it all.