Remembering to be a good boy

Your friend had been coming over every day around the same time for what seemed like months, but you could never remember what you ended up doing. You knew it was weird, but for some reason you never questioned it, the thoughts always seeming to slip your mind. You'd be sitting in your usual spot when he'd arrive, walking through your open door and joining you in the living room.

You watched him enter, his shoulders swaying as he walked in before he immediately slipped his shirt and pants off without hesitation. You couldn't pull your eyes off him as he stripped, your gaze tracing the thick fur on his skin before his thick muscled body stood exposed in front of you. The situation seemed all so familiar for some reason, accompanied by a sinking feeling in the back of your mind that something was off. He finally turned toward you with a grin on his face.

"You ready to be a good boy?"

You felt your memories returning like a wave crashing through your brain, and suddenly you could recall every night he spent over. The world spun as you realized what you hadn't before. You were already sitting naked on the couch, oblivious to your own state while you sat there, as always. You felt emotions crash through your system that had been reinforced time and time again. You needed to please him. You needed to serve him. You needed to be used by him.

Your body was frozen on the couch as he moved between your legs, raising your feet up into the air. The motion brought you back to the first time he came over, bringing some DVDs for you to watch. A video that taught you to be a good boy, a video you'd watch every time while he used you. Now it lived in your head, engrained in your memory replaying itself as he slid inside you. You were meant to be his good boy. You were his good boy. You were always his good boy.

Your mind faded into the background as the words played on repeat over and over in your head, the pulsing of your body on the couch only serving to reinforce the memory. Your body had shut down as chemicals flooded your system, turning you into his fuck toy, just a hole pinned under him. Your voice would be out of your control as he rolled in and out of you, expertly hitting your prostate and forcing moans from your mouth. You knew he loved hearing it, and you wouldn't be able to stop it.

You felt your body grow drenched in sweat as he used you, every last bit of your energy spent trying to make him feel good. You didn't know how long you were in this state for, but you needed to be his good boy for as long as it took until he finished with a roar, his seed pumping deep into your ass. You were exhausted, your body limp lying there as you began to pass out. You felt him fall on top of you, his sweaty body holding you down wrapping around your world.

He sat there breathing for a moment before he gave his final words. "Good boys forget" He said with a pleased whisper, his voice light on your ear. You felt the memories of the night begin to slip from your mind, but you knew deep down you were his. You would always be his. You would always be his good boy.