Enslaving Jason

Jason was a young faggot who had read one of my stories and wrote to me that he wanted to be my slave. Well, men, my experiences with faggots writing to me based on my stories have not been very satisfying. Most of these queers seem to end up being flakes or frauds of one sort or another.

Maybe it's just the kind of person who reads authoritarian stories, or maybe it's in the nature of faggots to be flakey. In any case, I've learned to take such e-mails with a grain of salt and not waste much time on them.

I'm much more confident of finding a slave with real potential through face-to-face encounters. Before the faggot-shit Jason, I had met my two bottoms through casual encounters. One faggot was a handsome young man I knew from the office and the other one had done some gardening for me when the shithead needed to earn some extra money.

It's funny how submissive faggots think they can hide what they really are from the world. A real man like me, though, can smell from a mile away the unique combination of FEAR and SEXUAL YEARNING a faggot naturally gives off -- just like a wolf uses its heightened sense of smell to track, and then devour, a vulnerable sheep. It's just classic predator-prey behavior, dudes!

Yep, I can smell the fearful yearning even of young faggots who think of themselves as 'straight.' My gardening kid already knew he was a faggot, although it took me a single, several-hour private session employing alcohol and a light application of my thick, black leather belt for the queer to understand and accept that her real purpose in life was to serve me.

The kid from the office, however, was another story. The handsome young man had a girlfriend who I knew for a fact he was fucking. (I knew because the girl's dad and I were friends and he wasn't happy about it.) Even with that boybitch, though, it didn't take me very long to harshly drain all of the 'straight' right out of the motherfucker, exposing the soft, weak, faggoty woman that the asshole really was on the inside. Yeah, man, it was a real revelation to that shithead to learn that her one and true purpose of Earth was to serve a real man in any way he demanded. Once I forced the cunt to say out loud what she was, though, there was no turning back. She became a bitch devoted to my twisted needs and desires from that moment on.

('His' girlfriend never got the boy's oversized clit inside her again.

They broke up angrily two weeks later. The boy could no longer get it up with her, and she accused him of having found himself a new cunt to fuck.

Stupid bitch. Far from finding himself a new cunt to fuck, I TRANSFORMED THE BOY INTO A NEW CUNT TO BE FUCKED. And with my firm, relentless and expert training, quite an eager, submissive and devoted cunt she has become, dudes. That young whore does not feel complete unless my thick, hard cock is roughly forcing open one of her tight, but eager, girl holes.) Anyway, dudes, the specific stories about how I enslaved those two other bitches is for another time. The point I want to emphasize here is that I can SMELL the fear and sexual yearning these sick, twisted bastards give off. The ones that already know they're faggots are the easiest. They are naturally quiet and respectful around me. At the office, they are the ones who immediately, eagerly and fully comply with my requests and demands, whether it's for another cup of coffee, getting me my lunch or running personal errands for me. Yeah, these motherfuckers ooze submissiveness from their queer pores, whether or not they themselves can fully recognize it. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep from laughing out loud when I see how eagerly these faggots fall over themselves to please me. Bending weak faggots like these to my will is like picking soft, low-hanging fruit from the tree -- or maybe I should say like picking 'fruits,' which is what these queers are, dudes!

My real talent is in ferreting out the submissive queerness in the guys who think of themselves as straight and who to everyone else appear completely straight. I've encountered many such guys over the years, including at the gym, at the office and on the sports teams I coach. Even someone as articulate as me (yeah, you whoreboys out there, I'm smart AND hot, so just deal with it, bitches) can't explain fully how I can spot the 'inner queer'

in these otherwise masculine, straight-acting boys. I guess it's just the instinct of a real man -- like how I can tell from looking at one of these boys' cars whether he's trying just a little too hard to come off as macho.

I have developed a standard test for these guys. I wait until the two of us are alone somewhere (dugout, wrestling mat, lockerroom, my office, etc.) and the kid starts boasting to me (as they inevitably do) about some macho thing the asshole claims he has done (usually involving drinking, driving, girls or some combination thereof). Once the excited asshole really gets going with his stupid-ass story, I adopt a stern, disapproving look on my face and just stare coldly down at the motherfucker. Jeez, man, the ones with the inner queerness always SHUT THE FUCK UP -- sometimes right in the middle of a boastful sentence! The confirmation comes when their faces flush red in embarrassment and they turn their gaze to the fuckin' floor.

It is so very fuckin' sweet, dudes, I can almost taste it right now.

Seeing this submissive response from a hot young jock to my very presence invariably makes my demanding monster of a dick expand and harden in my jockstrap until it's like some fuckin' dangerous sex criminal trying madly to break out of its cotton prison in order to force itself inside some tight bitch.

Dudes, I've trained enough of these straight-acting motherfuckers to find out from them later that they themselves did not understand at the time what was happening to them. They always describe a sudden rush of intense embarrassment coursing through their heads and bodies. I like to describe this phenomenon as the 'deer in the headlights' syndrome, since that seems to best capture it. At some deep level of their being, these closeted queers realize that a life-changing event has been thrust upon them, but they can neither understand it nor get their minds or bodies to fight it.

They are fuckin' immobilized, just like a deer in the headlights of a car.

In these instances, I like to seal the deal by savoring the kid's embarrassment for several seconds before giving the newly confirmed bitch a very simple instruction, like fetching me my gym bag or a sports drink.

These kids tell me later those several seconds of waiting feel like an eternity to them. Even if their minds are racing with thoughts of getting the fuck away from me, their bodies refuse to comply with the instruction.

An important part of my training of these boywhores is to force them later to re-live the crushing embarrassment of these early, formative experiences. Getting them to describe exactly how they felt -- even if doing so requires a determined application or two of my leather belt to their tender asses -- fully engrains in their weak, inferior minds what pathetic bitches they are and that their salvation can come only through total and selfless devotion to the demands and whims of a real man like me.

It's fuckin' beautiful, dudes!

Anyway, to get back to the faggot Jason, another problem with him was that he was too young and he claimed to be a virgin. In my experience, young faggots who think they want to be a slave to a real man don't really understand what it entails. They have some fuckin' stupid queer fantasy about being broken and enslaved to a real man, but aren't actually ready for the real thing. Young queers usually need to go through a variety of sexual and psychological stages before they are ready for true training as a boybitch. I don't really like to waste my time before then. Dudes, have ever tried to administer a whipping on a young queer of this type? Jeez, man, all it takes is two or three hard slaps of my leather belt on the soft asses of one of these young, inexperienced faggots for the bitch to be crying for mercy and saying how she never understood what true enslavement entails. (Like all good Masters, dudes, I never bind and gag one of my new bitches until I know she can take the pain I intend to dish out to her.) Yet, although this boy Jason claimed to be young and inexperienced, I picked up on something different in him. Something that made me think that maybe -- just maybe -- this eager-sounding young faggot might be suitable for the kind of intense and live-changing bitch training that was my specialty. The fuckin' cunt didn't disappoint, dudes.

To Be Continued...