Jaxson
I love the open road. Driving our nation's highways and byways, always energizes my soul and spirit. I love the scenery of Americana. Even seeing the dilapidated industries that have been ruined by globalization makes a road trip worthy. Not too mention, in these once proud and prosperous areas, one can easily find easy targets to hunt down. Yea, I'm a predator, what dominant, superior individual isn't, right? Plus, any submissive bitch with half a brain knows he's nothing but prey. Submissive fags love being hunted and captured, its just their nature.
They want to feel conquered, but let's be real, they just want to be subjugated in a way that allows them to fulfill their only true purpose in life, service in Bondage to a Superior Owner! Whether the owner is a male or female, a submissive male is a faggot that needs to give itself entirely into a life of Bondage as a slave. There's no such thing as a “straight” submissive male. If it gets fucked in its boi cunt, its a faggot. And it wants to be hunted down and enslaved, no matter how how hard he tries to bury that deep need inside himself, burying it, no matter how hard he tries to be the “man”, eventually he'll be in the right place at the right time where his deepest, darkest secret desires will be too strong for the faggot to fight anymore. Faggots are predestined to lose the fight within themselves. The slave inside the faggot will win out, or the faggot will live in misery. And that's exactly what happened with my fagboy Jaxson. He wanted what he thought I was offering, he got much, much more from me.
Jaxson was a college boy in the northeast. I ran across him a couple years ago. He was out with some friends at a local watering hole. I was there for a few beers and a burger, just passing through, you know. Then I noticed this cute faggot eyeing me all night in the place. He couldn't take his eyes off me. Probably didn't help that I gave him a few leering glances and licked my lips while staring at him back, and rubbed my crotch as he looked back. The boy blushed so red, he looked like a candy apple red sports car.
Then the cherry on top showed up. The faggot had a girlfriend. Sooo cute, huh? Yea, she was a cutie, no doubt about that, and she was using his pathetic ass to get to one of his friends. That dude was an adonis athletic boy-god, probably the alpha of the group. Couldn't imagine why the other boy wasn't googly-eyed over that stud, but he sure was eating me up with his hungry eyes. And his hunger was getting contagious, I was hungry for his holes, and his submission. Right then, I started formulating my plan. Yes. That faggot will be mine. He wasn't meant for any other life except one on his knees, chained to a bed. I'll open his mind and drag him down the rabbit hole, no matter how hard he…..resists the inevitable. What's that line the Borg say in Star Trek? Ahh yea, right, “resistance is futile”, and for a faggot it truly is futile. It will lose. That's guaranteed.
I decided to stay in the area, and watch the boy, and take my time hunting him. I wanted to learn what I could, see if he'd provide any opportunities of an attack angle. People aren't aware of this, but a lot can be learned about a person just by some real observations, from a far that is. People that know they're being watched grow self-conscious about how they behave. Funny, we're all always being watched by someone, we just don't seem to be aware of it, so we all behave naturally, until we realize we're the center of someone's attention. Then we unconsciously become cognizant of our behaviors. At this point, we either want to impress the individual watching us, or we want to make it clear to said individual that his attention is unwelcome. As for me, I don't give a damn. If I have decided that you're mine, nothing short of being physically able to stop me will save you. And Jaxson? He couldn't fight his way out of a room full of toddlers at nappies time.
What did I learn about Jaxson? He's a third year college boy, getting some liberal arts degree, unimportant really because he's not gonna complete it anyway, can't go to classes when you're taking cocks all day and night, right? He's a closeted sissy boy. On several occasions I saw him in a few stores eyeing lingerie with a day-dream look in his eyes. He was daydreaming about wearing these items and being a man's wife. Perfect.
I know this because I know faggots. If he was looking for something for his so-called girlfriend, he would gave been looking at a few sizes smaller, and not trying to pose with the garments in front of mirror when he thought no one was looking. Yea. The boy can be feminized easily. I can use a bitch in lingerie. Some guys like that, the faggot in panties and a lacey outfit. Either way, the faggot will make me money, and he'll live the life he was born for.
After a week of watching the boy from afar, I decided to let him see me again. Of course, the moment had to apropos for my needs, such as when he's looking at panties and bras. I'm a very patient man when hunting my prey, regardless of what the prey is, a bear, a deer, a gator, or a faggot, one needs patience to catch it's prey. Like I already admitted, I'm a natural-born predator, and fags are natural-born prey. Who are we to upset the natural balances created by Mother Nature!
“Those would look good on you boy, not gonna lie.”
The boy jumped and practically screamed. Then he looked at me, and blushed so brightly red, I could feel the heat of his blood. It was an electric moment for him. He stammered something about they weren't for him, he was thinking of his girlfriend. The entire time he is blushing and unable to make eye contact. Humiliation is good for creating a definitive understanding of who's the submissive and who's in control. If you feel humiliated, you're definitely not in control of the situation. And Jaxson will never be in control of anything again in his pathetic life.
“It's a waste of money if you're not the one wearing them,” I say to him in a soft, seductive tone. He shivers, and looks at me blushing more, then drops the blue panties he was looking at, turns, and quickly walks off. He doesn't disappoint me though, because he looks back at me. I look directly into his eyes, lick my lips in a predatory fashion. He blushes again, and starts to walk off again, not paying attention to his surroundings, he almost trips over a display in the isle. This further humiliates him. He quickly removes himself from the gravity of my presence and glances one more time in my direction, visibly shaken by the emotions he's feeling deep inside. Perfection.
I've been watching the boy for 9 days now. He's becoming an investment at this point, financially. Physically, he's learning about himself. Mentally, he's most likely questioning himself, wondering why I got under his skin and why he feels like a lost puppy when I'm around. He'll learn soon enough. I look down at the blue panties. Hmm. A color I'm particularly fond of. I pick them up, looking at them.
The next day, I know where he'll be. He goes to a small pizza joint off campus for a late snack on Wednesday evenings, after one of his night courses. I have decided to invite myself to join him. And like a good guest, I even bring my host a gift. Proper etiquette, always bring a small gift for the host. A good wine is always a nice choice.
“Hello again,” I say to him as I walk up behind him.
“Umm hi,” he replies, with a light blush making his cheeks glow again.
“Is the food here good?” I ask.
He shrugs, and says, “It's ok. It's cheap. So is the beer, but it's sorta warm.” He looks at me, I smile, he blushes and looks away, “So yea, it's ok I guess.”
“Looks like your getting warm too, cutie,” I say flirtingly as I gently brush his left cheek with my hand. He pulls away, some, but not violently. And he shuddered at my touch. Another electric moment for the boy. As I look at him more closely, I appreciate his natural feminine looks. High cheek bones, naturally slim eye brows that he keeps trimmed, soft brown, doe-ful eyes with long, natural lashes that would look amazing once brushed and high-lighted with a mascara. Yea, he was born for feminization.
“You a local, or attend the university?” I ask my future hoe boy.
“I go to school, sir,” he says sheepishly.
Sir, nice. Is it manners? Or is it natural submissive instinct? I'm betting on the latter. Today's youth has very little respect for anyone. The last few generations have been poorly raised. No discipline, no respect, and for the most part, no spine. Metrosexuals. Modern day man. What the fuck, right?! Masculinity is in decline. Not mine. Us superior men refuse to bow, and we expect all others to submit, especially those fagboys running around, like this future slut, that crave subjugation.
“Guess cheap pizza and luke-warm beer is all a college boy can afford,” I say smiling. More humiliation is evident in the blush and the way he looks away. Then he shrugs and starts to walk away. I take his upper arm in my hand in a strong gripe. I can feel him turn into putty instantly.
“Don't go, let me take you out for dinner?”
“Ummm…I don't know…” he mutters. I can see his penis starting to react to his thoughts.
He stands there, looking at me, fearful of what he's feeling, and fearful of me in a way Red-riding hood was fearful of the big bad wolf. Growl! All the better to bite you with hehehe.
“What's your name?” I ask, loosening my grip some, but not letting go. Not yet, at least.
“Jaxson, sir,” he says.
“I'm Jay,” I say. Simple, and Johnson starts with a J, right? Soon enough he'll be calling Master, then Big Daddy if I'm nice to him. As if, haha, “So, cutie, join me for dinner?” I say again, smiling as I look into his eyes. I can feel him being pulled in by my natural gravity.
“Ummm…,” he's struggling.
I let go of his arm, and again, gently brush his cheek, and he turns a crimson red as I say, “No pressure Jaxson, I'll just go away, and not bother you.” And turn to leave.
“No wait. I'll come with you, sir. Thank you for inviting me to join you,” he says pleadingly. Yes, he's definitely fallen into my gravity well. I wink at him, and he smiles sheepishly as he looks down. Submissive boys have a hard time makeye contact, mainly because you can see their simplistic souls through them, and eye contact increases submission in a faggot. It makes them weaker.
I put my hand on the back of his neck, gently squeezing it, I guide him towards my car, “I bet you like wine, don't you Jaxon? I know just the place. A nice meal, good wine. Good conversation,” as I open the door and close it as soon as he sits down, and walk to the other side. I should be heading home tomorrow morning with this faggot trussed up. And tonight, I'll have some fun with him and start the breaking process. Poor Jaxson, he has no clue, but he will. Ohh he will.
I get into the car, I started the engine, and look at him, I say, “I got you a gift, here,” I hand him a small package, and looks into it, and he gasps out loud as he sees the blue panties from the other day in the small bag. He turns to say something about it when he feels a needle puncture his neck and he yelps. Then his world goes black as I drive off towards where I'm staying.
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