Tell me in the replies how you want to play with him 😋

"Master, I have no head, just a headless strongman toy made for you. Please come and touch and use me. My hole without excretory function is already wet for you."

Nothing is set in stone. Everything feels, and everything wants.

When the venom-spitting head expires, one can always resurrect the body. It is the important part, after all.

He wakes up with what equals blinding clarity on his skin; he feels your feet tapping the floor, your scent. All that forms in the vague space inside him is you. He gets on the ground, his armless torso wobbling, the gown peeling off his crotch. He doesn’t care. He wants you.

You found him visibly stirred, nervous, stumbling with a tinge of shame you never found before in the once confident, comely hero. You teared up, knowing he paid an unspeakable price in a deal with Death - he promised you he would return alive. In turn, you will now protect him.

He may have evolved beyond your understanding, but you have to admit that he is in a constant state of pleasure your feeble mind is incapable of imagining.

Hey, this stall is occupie—

His head gets a rest on laundry day.

He lights up your world, literally.

How dirty do you have to be for even your strongman fleshlight to complain? He is gagging from your flaky dried cum in his throat!

Found out day 4 at unmanned data centre. Thought guard went missing. Had to look under the desk - cum stains at least a day old, thighs still rubbing, now without higher control. Most valuable keys dangled, untouched. Robbery clean. Top half gone. Bottom half never left his post.

Raw power. No more distractions.

He still has some trouble understanding he is not one person separated, but one toy in a set.

He doesn’t care how ridiculous or helpless he looks. He doesn’t care that he can’t see you, can’t speak, can’t reach out. All that matters is closing the distance. Every clumsy, jiggling step is a silent, fervent declaration: I did this for you. I’m yours now. Use me.

Decisions, decisions

Warton was your gym crush, then a fuck buddy… who asks to command him like a machine. Then he told you to imagine his head gone. Then he handed you the papers to the procedure. Warton is still Warton, but he is now perfect and in constant pleasure he wouldn‘t dare dream of.

Let your new designer lamp light up your room.

Soft. Living. Welcoming. Responsive. Nothing extra needed.

What do you say?

Lose head. Lift weights.

You never know if it’s a threat or an invitation with him.

Still showing off, huh?

Getting ready.

Shameless self-advertisement, but I like it.

Couldn’t resist imagining nothing below the furry head 🥹

The best cushion.

The spell granted life to all sculptures in the museum. All of them.

…then what, my thug head?

Always test the responsiveness of your warm sentient cocksleeve before use!

You can literally see in the nipples how happy he is that the ceiling rails are installed at home!

You like seeing him belting insults at you talking about getting his body back and snapping you in half, before melting in your touch.

Him crashing at yours was one thing. This was another.

I hate how much they know me, and love how much they are looking forward to it…

Getting competitive, huh?

What do you have in mind for your most loyal warrior, Great Khan?

What is better than one headless Zeb? Four headless Zebs.

If his costume already spooked you out, you would be less surprised when he revealed what wasn‘t beneath the hood, he reasoned. He would be accepted. It‘s your turn to tell him it is okay to be a body and nothing more.

Make your choice!

Momentous.

The bike needs to be driven, so it went to the body shop for some bodies, where it realised it didn‘t need a whole body, and it could place its new favourite brute mug wherever it wanted.

He denies he is addicted. Then he comes back more and more for your obliviation discs, until the peace, the bliss, the conflation of mind and sensation - it changed him. He starts doubting which is his real self. Then he stops doubting, and starts feeling.

“Finally remembering to use your fleshlight?”

As soon as it felt itself, felt its new form, it was a simple, biological response. Everything was lighting up, intensifying, overwhelming pure positive feedback.

Pretty sure this set of dips is cheating

The shirt likes displaying itself a bit too much, but it carries itself back into the wardrobe when I tell it to.

Men, what’s preventing you from looking like this?

New couch who dis

Oh, seat

he is confused why most would run from him but he is just a very good boi optimised with two more limbs that likes it when you sit on his wide back and ride him around the lawn