When I finally sent submissive Jase an e-mail inviting her to make the trip

from Portland to Seattle to visit me for a weekend, I heard nothing back

from her for a few days. Yes, dudes, I INVITED her to visit me. I didn't

order her. At this delicate stage of a girl's development, attempting to

take direct control over her choices usually backfires: terrified at

confronting what she is and surrendering her life utterly to another human

being, she will invariably pull away. In some cases, she will eventually

return to you; other times, she will be lost to you forever.

So, dudes, if you really want to get an iron lock on a promising young

girl's head, heart and body, you need to let her put one submissive foot in

front of the other. Try to force her to take two or three steps at a time,

and you will likely lose her, at least temporarily; sometimes forever. The

sweetest kind of enslavement is this kind: taking a young, inexperienced,

fearful girl like Jase and helping her to understand, and accept, what she

really is. It's one thing to enslave an experienced faggot: those sick

fuckin' whores typically can be degraded and used brutally without

objection (or at least beaten down until they cannot object to you).

Frankly, my heart (and dick) isn't much into deepening the enslavement of

whores who already know what they are. I'm not saying I don't get off on

tying up, whipping and raping experienced whores, dude. Naturally, I do.

But there is nothing sweeter than leading an inexperienced girl down the

path of her own recognition of herself as a submissive girl and then

painfully popping her eager but achingly tight cherry.

It is only the young, inexperienced girls who have the potential of

reaching the ultimate in Man-woman relations: service as a totally devoted,

submissive and obedient wife. It is the exceptional girl who has the

potential to become an obedient wife -- one whose only pleasure can come

through satisfying the demands, desires and whims of her Man. I'm speaking

here of the wife in the old-fashioned sense: a woman who is properly and

legally considered to be a mere appendage of the Man; 'chattel' -- that is,

just another piece of personal property of the Man, to used -- or disposed

of -- as he sees fit. A woman who if she fails to get pregnant despite her

Man's repeated seeding of her pussy, will gladly accept physical punishment

for her failure to serve her one true function on Earth: to give her Man a

male child, who may himself, in due course, come to dominate her as well.

Dudes, I know some of you assholes are into the whole Master-slave thing.

You know, using and abusing faggots as slaves; making faggots into debased

things that will gladly accept whatever you want to do them -- fist-fucking

them, drugging and gang-raping them, whoring them out to angry, fag-hating

construction workers, etc. I'm not judging you, dudes. To each his own.

What I'm talking about here, though, is helping submissive young girls

understand what they are and then firmly, but lovingly, guiding them into

total submission to a Real Man's needs and wants. Self-enslavement is the

most powerful type, dudes. As long as the girl perceives that control is

being imposed on her from the outside, the possibility of resistance is

always present. It may be far below the surface sometimes, but it is

always there. By contrast, a girl who is slowly, but surely, led down the

path of total surrender and self-enslavement will not know herself as

separate from her Man, her Controller and her Leader. She will have no

identity apart from his. Failing to please him will be like failing to

exist at all. Thus, although firm training and periodic no-nonsense

correction is natural and necessary for her to blossom fully as an

obedient, subservient woman, once the die is cast, she will know no meaning

apart from satisfying her Man.

To get back to the faggot at hand, I knew there was a war going on in

submissive Jase's brain. Her daily e-mails to me about how she would wear

my sweat-, piss- and cum-stained jockstrap over her nose and mouth to bring

herself to multiple climaxes each day convinced me that she had become

addicted to the smells and tastes of my amazing body. Boys, this is the

natural and inevitable result for young faggots like Jase. These sick,

twisted bastards are genetically programmed to crave the sights, smells and

tastes of Real Men. These deep, inherent cravings can be suppressed for

periods of time -- in some cases, years, even decades -- but once exposed

to the light of day, they become the controlling condition in a faggot's

life and dictate they be satisfied whatever the fuck it takes. Your skill

as a Top is in using and manipulating the girl's natural submissive

cravings to your advantage, until the satisfaction of those cravings and

your pleasure are indistinguishable in the girl's head.

Matched against the submissive faggot's strong and natural cravings to be

near Real Men are her overwhelming feelings of fear and self-hatred. This

is the balance that must be carefully managed by the new Man in her life.

It calls for subtlety and a deft hand. Having a few times in the past

tried to force a girl to move forward in her submissive unfoldment too

soon, I had learned the delicate art of leading her step by beautiful step

down the path of her own enslavement.

And so I once again gave submissive Jase the physical and emotional space I

knew she needed to move through the strongest parts of her fear of

confronting the reality of what she truly is. I knew that for the first

time since she received my rank jockstrap, her libido would be dampened by

her raw fear and anxiety. Whereas before the mere thought or memory of the

beautiful smells and tastes of my soiled athletic strap would make her

little clit stiff and leaky in her panties, she now would find herself

overwhelmed by waves of fear and self-loathing.

Dudes, are you following me fully here? Can you see and understand how

such young girls need to develop and come down their own paths? Yes, it is

natural, necessary and appropriate for the Man to lead them on the path;

but he cannot force them along. He must open the way for them; allow them

to choose to take the next step toward their own enslavement to your will.

The right moment will eventually arise to seal the deal and purposefully

crush any remaining element of independence or identification beyond your

own needs and desires. The girl must, however, realize that it is she

herself who has chosen to relinquish her weak, inferior identity in favor

of your dominant, superior will and personality. Then she truly will be

your tool to use solely as you see fit!

I checked my e-mail each morning for a message from Jase. I was not

impatient, angry or disappointed when I found no message; nor did I

consider initiating communication with her myself. Instead, each morning

after checking my e-mail, I would take a long, slow run around the high

school track, my long, thick dick constantly rockhard in my jockstrap,

leaking warm precum into the cotton pouch that tightly hugged my cock and

balls. Something about this time in a girl's development always makes me

feel exceedingly horny. I guess it is knowing that the girl is passing

through a critical stage in her development. She is tormented and torn

between her deep, natural craving to serve me and her seemingly equally

strong fears and self-loathing. Properly understood, dudes, this is a very

beautiful and erotic time. I'm not sure why Nature designed things this

way, but once you become skilled in exploiting it, there are few things

sweeter than setting up a girl to surrender in this way. To the girl, the

situation seems irresolvable -- she's on tenterhooks (yeah, assholes,

that's spelled right; Google it, shitheads). You know, however, that if

you handle her right, her craving for you will always win out over her

fears. Unbeknownst to the girl, her fears, though seemingly fixed, deep

and longstanding, are in fact merely the inventions of her feverish,

twisted subconscious. Your deft handling of her will allow her fears to

come to the surface and, with just a little time, be faced, confronted and

resolved. What is left, then, is her pure and insatiable drive to know and

live what she was born for: to serve as a passive, but eager, human

receptacle for the sexual aggression of a Real Man like you.

As I completed my Friday morning run, my athletic supporter felt really

crusty and disgusting as it pressed snuggly against my big dick and balls.

The pouch had become hardened from the combination of my sweat, precum and

leftover piss. Each morning during my runs the pouch would soften a little

from my fresh sweat and precum, only to become even harder and crustier

than before. When I pulled it off before jumping in the shower, I saw that

the fuckin' thing was actually starting to rub my hard cock a little raw

with its crustiness. As I threw the disgusting, smelly strap into my

laundry basket, I figured that would be the last time I would try to wear

it on my runs.

As the hot water of the shower poured over my powerful, muscular body, I

felt a surge of horniness flow through me, ending in my dick and balls. My

hard, thick dick was rigid and pulsing with a demand to be satisfied. I

resisted the impulse to grab it and beat out a quick load down the shower

drain, though. I knew the sexual aggression I was feeling could be

channeled effectively all day at work. I dried myself with a big towel as

I walked to my laptop. Instinctively, I checked one more time for a

message from submissive Jase. And there it was! Like I said, dudes, very


Again, timing is the key. Jase had largely worked through her own strong

fears. After being racked with fear and anxiety for days, by Thursday

night Jase found herself settled and was surprised to find her libido

powerfully reanimated. She said she felt filled with a sexual electricity

unlike anything she had known before in her young life, including during

the early, heady days of her worshipping the soiled jockstrap I had sent

her as a gift to help shape her impressionable mind. She was consumed by

an irrational lust she said she could not fully understand or control.

(Don't worry, bitch, I understand it enough for both us.)

She said her head would be hit with a sexual high whenever she thought

about me or my beautiful, filthy strap. She had been up all night smelling

and tasting the piss, sweat and precum in the strap. She worn it over her

nose and mouth, allowing her to both smell and taste me as she touched

herself over and over all night, cumming so violently that she could not

help shouting out loudly as she spurted her girl ejaculate onto her face,

neck, chest and stomach. Fortunately, her family was out for the evening

the first and second times she came and therefore they could not hear her

sharp cries of passion. Once they returned home, she stuffed her own

cum-encrusted panties into her mouth under my jockstrap to help mute her

orgasmic cries. Again and again throughout the night she pleasured herself

to my smell and tastes, until finally she feel asleep sometime in the very

early morning, exhausted and having totally drained every last drop of girl

juice from her young body.

She awoke in the morning shocked to find that her clit was still completely

stiff, seemingly locked into a perpetual state of turgidity. Her female

organ pulsed very painfully in her crotch, reddened and irritated by the

hours of self-abuse it had endured over the course of the night.

She had a powerful urge to piss, but couldn't will her girl part to soften

enough to piss. She knew girls had to piss sitting down, so she sat

nervously on the toilet seat waiting for her clit to deflate sufficiently

to relieve herself. After an impossibly long few minutes, she became

alarmed when her clit remained as stiff as ever. She thought for a moment

about trying to beat another load out of herself to try to get the fuckin'

thing down, but her girl part looked so raw and red with irritation she

didn't dare try to touch it again. Instead, she quickly rose off the

toilet seat and turned on the cold water in the shower. She couched down

on the cold shower floor like a girl needing to take a piss in the woods.

She shivered and her external ovaries jumped into her body as she knelt

under the cascading ice-cold water. In just a moment, she felt her clit

begin to soften a little. Then, making an audible sigh, she felt her hot

piss begin splashing against her leg. She knelt there for a quiet minute

or two as her bladder drained its hot contents urgently and completely onto

her leg, creating a yellow river toward the shower drain. It was such a

fucking relief to unburden herself like that.

Once she was completely drained, she again felt fully the iciness of the

shower water and quickly turned it off.

Totally drained and exhausted, she headed for her bed to collapse without

having the energy to dry herself. Before she reached her bed, however, she

found herself turning and sitting down at her computer to write me, still

dripping wet, as if responding to an unspoken command from me.

I responded to Jase that I was very proud of her and that the time had

indeed arrived for her to come and spend a weekend with me so that she

could finally learn why she had been born. I knew she was finally ready

for it. I instructed her to be available for an online chat that night at

10 p.m. to receive my instructions for preparing to visit.

At the office I was incredibly turned on all morning. By lunchtime, I

needed to get a load off to relieve a bit of my excess sexual tension, so I

quietly and firmly instructed a faggy 17-year-old intern in my office to

meet me in the building basement at noon sharp for a 'special project.'

Now I don't really care much for the faggy boys, but I wanted to get a

quick load off and needed to select the most eligible candidate for my

deposit. Danny (possibly short for 'Danielle') was a stupid asshole had

been keeping one eye on how my beautiful, muscular body filled out my

custom-made suits ever since 'he' started working in the office. Try not

to be SO obvious, faggot! I often thought to myself as I noticed out of the

corner of my eye the queer taking in a long look at me. Just for the fun

of it, every once in a while I would catch his eyes when he was trying to

sneak a peak of me unnoticed. Unlike a typical faggot (of which we've had

plenty in the office over the years) who would immediately look away when

caught gawking at me, this faggot would just stand there transfixed, frozen

in place with fear in his eyes like some fuckin' deer in the headlights.

Something about his automatic powerlessly triggered by my mere gaze brought

out the predator in me and make my cock achingly hard and needing release

inside one or more submissive holes.

Our building basement was old, large and used only for storage. People

seldom went down there. It had a foul-smelling three-urinal, two-stall

restroom in one corner of the floor that no one ever used. It made for a

convenient, private place for me to occasionally unload into an office


The eager shithead arrived five minutes early with a very nervous look on

his face. Quickly sizing him up, I tersely instructed him, 'Into the

restroom!' The faggot nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of my

firm, deep voice, but I noticed with satisfaction that he didn't hesitate

before heading straight (or, in his case, not-so-straight) toward the


'Get into the stall,' I ordered him, pointing to the second stall, which

was the larger of the two. Following him inside, I turned him around to

face the back wall and quickly yanked open his pants and pulled them and

his faggy briefs down to his ankles. My head (and dick) was filled with

lust right now and I didn't want to waste any time on preliminaries. I

just needed to get a quick load out to take the edge off, so I could have a

productive afternoon.

I didn't even bother to drop my pants. I simply unzipped my pants and

reached inside my jock and pulled my large, thick dick out into the open.

Using my hand, I quickly pushed the kid over the top of the toilet and

moved forward until the leaking mushroom head of my rigid cock was poised

at the entrance of the boy's tiny pussy opening. I always relish the

moment in time before taking a boy's pussy with my big dick. Even when a

faggot has had the stiff clits of his fellow queers pushed up his ass, he

doesn't know what he was made for until a Real Man works his strong,

powerful cock inside and fucks him down like the submissive woman he is.

I knew this kid would never survive my fucking without some lube, so I spit

generously several times into my hand and used it to coat the big head and

thick shaft of my beautiful dick. The shithead was panting hard when I

began to push inside his achingly tight cunt. I had to use considerable

force to get the big head inside him and yanked hard on his silky, girlish

hair when he started to cry out in pain. He seemed to get the message and,

except for the occasional muffled groan of pain, remained silent as I

slowly worked most of the rest of my hard cock inside his pussy. His hole

gripped me like a motherfucker. I could get about six of my eight inches

inside him without extreme difficulty. I didn't want to tear this

shithead's asshole in the basement of my own building, so I contented

myself with substantial penetration and began moving slowly back and forth

inside the faggot. The friction of his moist pussy walls on my rigid dick

was intense. I knew it wouldn't take very long for me to make my deposit

of babymakers deep inside. After just a few minutes, I began to pick up

the pace of my fucking. The faggot began to really moan in pain. I knew I

needed to finish the job quickly and, yanking hard on his hair to keep him

quiet, fucked him hard and quick until I felt my thick dick begin pulsing

deep inside the vise-grip of his painfully stretched pussy. I tilted my

head back in pleasure and relief as my cock erupted load after load of hot

cum inside the kid's super-tight pussy.

When I had finished cumming, I pulled out of the boy's cunthole abruptly,

causing him to cry out in pain. I impatiently pushed the panting queer to

his knees in the stall. 'Clean it!' When the fuckin' faggot hesitated, I

quickly gripped his hair with my left hand and used my right to insert my

still-rigid, shit- and cum-coated dick into his face. He got the message

and began tentatively licking and sucking my cock clean. He gagged a

little because of the size and taste of my filthy cock, but he didn't try

to pull away from me. Once he had gotten my dick completely clean, I was

tempted to give him a face-fuck (I never have trouble getting off a couple

of times in a row), but needed to get back upstairs to prepare for a 1

p.m. client meeting.

Then I had an idea.

'We need to wash that shit down for you, boy,' I informed him firmly, so as

to leave no doubt in his mind about the certainty of what was coming next.

'I'm just helping you out, you know. You don't want to go back upstairs

smellin' like you had cum and shit for lunch, do you?'

The puzzled looked on the kneeling young queer's face was priceless, dudes!

'You need to listen very carefully to me, shithead. You're gonna take my

piss right now. You're gonna drink it all down into your little queer

tummy. You need to swallow down every single drop; otherwise, everyone

upstairs is gonna smell my piss on you and realize what a sick, twisted

freak you are. Understand me, cunt?'

The kid's face registered shock and his head reflexively moved back from my

dick. Smiling to myself, I simply gripped his head firmly with both my

hands and pulled it forward until my now half-hard cock was resting inside

his mouth. I could feel him shaking nervously in my hands, but he didn't

resist as I held his head firmly and slowly began draining my bladder

inside him. I pissed as slowly as I could, allowing him to swallow down my

hot urine in small gulps. Whenever I sensed he was about to choke, I used

one of my hands to press the base of my cock to stop the flow. After maybe

five minutes of stop-and-go pissing, I was drained completely and pulled my

cock out of the cunt's mouth with a gentle plop.

The kid's face was flush with exertion and lack of oxygen. I chuckled to

myself at his state and then told him he should take the afternoon off.

Rearranging myself, I made my way back upstairs and told the administrative

support supervisor that Danny had to leave early for the day. When she

asked why, I told her I thought his boyfriend was having menstrual cramps

and he needed to go home to take care of her. She shot me a funny look,

but didn't question my obviously tongue-in-check explanation of why a young

faggot might need to leave early for the day.

Having gotten off loads of cum and piss into a faggot at lunchtime, I felt

great and had an outstanding afternoon meeting with my client.

I was feeling on the top of the world by the time I got home that evening.

Looking forward to my scheduled chat with Jase at 10 p.m., after eating

dinner I passed the time watching a football game on TV and downing a few


Right before 10 p.m., I emptied the beer from my bladder into the toilet.

I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined Jase on her knees before me. I

love feeding a submissive girl a big load of warm recycled beer directly

from the tap; gettin' her drunk on the contents of my fuckin' bladder. I

planned to train Jase so that she would love anything that came out of my

dick. After a weekend of consuming little else but my cum and urine, I

figured she would be totally hooked on me and would willingly do whatever

it took to get more.

Promptly at 10 p.m. I logged in and established communication with my girl.

I gave her my instructions. The next weekend was a four-day weekend and

would be a good time for her to visit. I told her she was to arrive in

Seattle Friday afternoon by 5 p.m. and plan to leave Monday afternoon to

return home to Portland. Wednesday night she was to shave her body

completely free of hair from her neck to her toes, ensuring that no hair

could be found on her chest, armpits, crotch, arms, legs, ass, even her

fingers and toes. I gave her instructions on the best way to shave herself

without cutting herself. When she objected that the boys in the lockerroom

would see that she was completely hairless from the neck down, I told her a

didn't give a fuck. I advised her to bring both pairs of her panties with

her: one was to be freshly washed by hand and to be worn on the trip; the

other was to be soiled and crusted from her girl juices and sealed in a

Ziploc bag. After I gave her careful directions on finding my place, I

told her that upon arrival she was to ring my doorbell and then kneel down

in front of my door, her head respectfully bowed. I told her the first

thing she would do upon arriving would be to kiss my boots as a sign of

respect. Unless instructed otherwise, she was always to address me as

'Sir' and never speak unless spoken to.

Finally, I informed her that the decision to come to me was her own, but

that if she did come, that would be her last decision for the weekend. I

told her she needed to trust me and allow me to make all of her decisions

for her. She said she was afraid, but would comply with all of my

instructions. Very sweet, dudes.

We exchanged cellphone numbers and that was that. I knew there was a small

chance that Jase would back out before Friday arrived, but I had a good

feeling about it. I knew that I had cultivated this eager young girl

carefully and well, and that she was craving what was coming next for her.

Some fear on her part was totally natural and healthy. I knew her fear was

manageable, however. I encouraged her to confide in me during the week

about her feelings, so that I could manage them for her until she arrived

on Friday and let me take over her life for her, at least for that long


During the week, both of us were crazy and horny with anticipation. I used

office faggot Danny several times during the week at both lunchtime and

after work in the basement restroom to take the edge off. On Wednesday at

lunchtime, I admit I got a little rough while face-fucking him in the

bathroom stall. Every time I would force my thick, hard cock down his

tight throat his head would bang against the metal wall of the stall. He

had a terrific headache after that experience and had to go home early to

recover. The fuckin' queer, though, was back for more first thing the next

morning, dudes. Even though his head still hurt from the rough face-fuck I

had put to him at lunch the day before, I could tell he was eager to get

back down on his knees to worship and swallow my demanding cock. What a

sick motherfucker! I thought.

Jase was coming the next day, however, and my interest in this faggy

teenager was at an end. After work that night, I met him a final time in

that rank-smelling stall. This time, I showed no mercy in burying my

large, rigid cock deep into his spasming throat. Based on his past gagging

and choking patterns, I knew exactly how to handle him to achieve the

result I wanted. I gripped his hair vise-like in my fists and repeatedly

plunged my cock all the way inside his amazingly tight throat. He tried

desperately to pull his head back to escape the onslaught of my punishing

cock, but I held him tight with my hands and fucked his throat mercilessly.

This cocksuckin' motherfucker ain't goin' nowhere, I thought cruelly to

myself. With perfect timing, I withdrew my phlegm-coated dick from his

throat and quickly stepped aside as the little bitch began vomiting

violently into the toilet bowl on his knees. Perfect!

When he had finished throwing up, the kid, still on his bruised knees,

turned slowly and looked up at me pitifully. Dudes, this asshole really

looked like shit! His face was sweaty and flush, his lips were swollen

from the rough face-fuck I had administered, and remnants of liquid vomit

dripped slowly from his chin. The stupid shit really looked like he had

been to hell and back.

Dudes, the best part, though, was the look of guilt and fear on the kid's

face. Instead of being angry at me for raping his throat until he dumped

the contents of his stomach into the toilet, I could tell he was actually

ashamed at not being able to take me exactly as I had demanded.

I resisted the urge to slap him hard across the face to tangibly confirm

his fears.

Instead, I curtly informed him that he did not deserve my cock any more

since he couldn't take it. Maybe, I suggested, he should go back to

sucking the little dicks of his fellow faggots. When I then proceeded to

hose him down from head to toe with the hot contents of my very full

bladder, he only bowed his head and with closed eyes submissively accepted

my harsh, wet verdict on his lack of worthiness to serve a Real Man. Very

beautiful, indeed, men.

I left him there on his knees on the stall floor drenched in my stinking

piss. That was the last time I ever saw him. He never came back to work.

The administrative support supervisor sent out an intraoffice memo saying

that Danny had quit without explanation and that the hiring committee,

headed by me, would need to find a new high school intern to take his


To Be Continued...


Pete Smith

[email protected]


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