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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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If He Hollers, Make Him Pay - 3
by Cameron Brock III (cameronbrock3@gmail.com)
***
I've devoted my life to subjugating and manipulating
creatures weaker than myself (faggot cocksuckers,
mostly) and enslaving them for purposes of my pleasure
and improving my overall quality of life. What follows
is not really a story but my memoranda, notes,
studies, general sketches for my eventual graduate
paper studying the true nature of a subspecies known
variously as cocksuckers, queers, faggots, etc. Make
of it what you will. It's all true. (MM, nc, 1st-gay-
expr, oral, anal, mc)
***
NOTE: I'm only 19 so don't expect a bunch of fancy
writing from me. Yeah, this really is my real name and
email and all this shit really happened. I know its
sounds weird but it's all fucking true because people
really are like this. A guy couldn't make up all the
freaking stuff. Don't read it if you can't stand the
truth about adults.
***
But getting back to that sick fag Mr. Gifford.
Here was the very first middle-age full-grown cuntboy
who figured out he should pay me if he ever wanted the
honor of being abused by me and the privilege of being
near a real man's body.
First I felt sorry for the fag. A full grown man.
Stripped naked. Begging to suck my fag cock. Pleading
to suck my fresh fifteen-year-old cum. Practically
having a fit at the prospect of being owned and
controlled and used by a fifteen-year-old kid.
But that's the way fags are, right? I was just
beginning to realize that if kids like us didn't take
advantage of these cocksuckers, it was even more cruel
than ignoring them, right?
I figure there are guys who are just born that way.
Born to be fags.
Born to be cocksuckers. Born to be subservient, right?
They're lesser creatures. These creatures born that
way and secretly they crave to be made to serve, but
they seldom find the right guy to do it to them in the
right way so they can be restored to that point of
their natural state in life.
Society misleads fags with all this "all men are
equal" shit, and fags have a hard time letting that
go. The facts show that fags are NOT equal. Scientific
research indicates that faggots have a deepseated
psychological desire to serve. It's been proven that
faggots are mentally and physically aroused by the
hormones of real men. Hormones which their systems
crave and need, and can only get the essence of by
swallowing the jizz of real men. It's like a vitamin
deficiency. They go crazy if they can't get it. And,
deep down, fags know this. Laboratory research has
determined that this is what makes fags such natural
slaves.
From what I'm reading in my Psych 101 books, you see
this in the wild all the time.
A pecking order. There are alpha males, beta males,
and even lesser males. Omega males.
They even found out that the alpha males, the ones at
the top of the pecking order have MORE testosterone
than the other males, so it's really all perfectly
natural there SHOULD be some men who are dominant and
other men who are subservient.
If you read your history too, you'll see that the
losers of battles "paid hommage" to the alpha male
winner by getting on their knees and kissing the
winner's feet, or the ring of his hand. And even this
was just a ritualized way of kissing and/or sucking
the winner's cock developed from more primitive
societies.
In more primitive societies (and in many primates) the
loser males are constantly forced to suck and serve
the alpha males to maintain their lowly status in the
social order of things.
Also the alpha male just plain deserves the pleasure
of a blowjob offered up by the loser.
Speaking of losers, Mr. Gifford was one of the most
natural submissive faggy cocksuckers I'd ever met.
This true loser faggot whose real purpose in life was
to suck a real man's cock. Problem was, the poor
stupid fag had just bought into all this "equality"
shit that society was teaching him for so long that it
took awhile to strip him back down to his actual
purpose in life.
A fag like Gifford quickly fell into place once he
realized he could give me money in order to "pay
hommage" to me. That included doing my homework,
washing my clothes, fixing me dinner, washing my car
(which once was his car), making regular paypal
contributions, giving me gifts and paying me cold hard
cash.
Like I said, when I was 15 I started mowing my
neighbor's grass regular cause he was going through a
tough break-up with his wife who got custody of his
teenage daughter. Mr. Gifford would invite me in for
some lemonade afterwards.
I couldn't help but notice how Gifford would stare at
my grass-stained shoes. Or he'd be peeking at one of
the rips in my work jeans.
I was beginning to wonder what made him and his wife
break up, and started figuring it was probably cause
Mr. Gifford was secretly a queer because he was
practically eating up my body with his eyes when he
let me stretch out in the comfortable chair and put my
feet up on the coffeetable.
He started asking stuff. Like was I seeing any girls?
dating girls? having sex with them? What was it like
having sex with them?
Well hell yeah. By the time I was a hung fifteen-year-
old, girls were practically throwing themselves under
me! I thought that happened to EVERYBODY but
apparently not to dudes like Mr. Gifford.
Then he started asking me about details. About what I
did with the girls.
Like HOW did I fuck with them. Like what sort of
things I did with them that really turned me on. Like
he was taking notes, or writing a report on it or
something. What noises did they make? What sort of
stuff did I say to them? How many times could I come
when I kept fuckin' em?
I have to admit that by 15 I already realized I was
stud material. Nobody but nobody in my gym lockerroom
had the size dick I had. Plus I worked out all the
time so my bod was some kinda perfect physique.
Of course tThe girls went wild and got their pussies
all wet just trying to get my clothes off. And that's
what I told Mr. Gifford I did.
First I made them strip completely naked for me. Then
when their tits were jiggling and their pussies were
obviously juicey for me, really fiddled with my
fingers till they were juicing and groaning, I ordered
them to take my clothes off bit by bit.
First my shirt so they could admire and play with my
pecs and my abs. Then my shoes and socks, and
sometimes I'd make 'em suck for awhile on my big toe.
This was always fun because then they didn't squeal so
much when I bent over the cunts and slapped their
butts or fingered their pussies from behind. Plus this
made them all the more hotter to get my pants off.
By then they were really needing some of this Cameron
cock 'n cum, I told Mr. Gifford, and watched him
twitch there on the sofa. Something seemed to quiver
deep within him, almost as if he himself had a pussy,
a secret pussy inside him, just juicing up when it
heard about my cock.
Mr. Gifford's pussy mouth was practically salivating
by the time I got around to telling him about my cock
and how I made the girls pull it out of my shorts with
their mouths. How it almost always choked them when
they tried to swallow it, how my balls would sometimes
nearly smother them. And how fucking their nice tight
pussies with my big thick dick practically made them
pass out from all the cumming they did on top of it.
"And how many times did you fuck them?" Mr. Gifford by
this time had snuck a pillow over his crotch, just to
cover up the wet spot in his pants.
Ï'd say, "Ah, you know, three or four fucks for the
first go around. I don't even like to take my cock out
of 'em when I cum in their pussies. A lot of times I
just leave it stuck up in there after I cum while I
play with their tits awhile, pinching their nipples,
making their boobs bounce around, maybe sneaking my
finger around in their ass, slapping their butt. You
know how it is when you fuck a girl, Mr. Gifford. Once
you're all the way up there, you might as well leave
it there till your good and done. You know how that
is, don't you, Mr. Gifford?"
(I later found out Mr. Gifford had almost nothing to
put up in a girl, practically a clit dick, plus he
came as quick as a jackrabbit, little loser dribbles
of fag-slime, then went limp so there was no way he
could satisfy his wife. This just made him perfect
true fag material, but anyway.)
"I just leave my cock up in their pussies, and all my
pinching and pulling and jostling, and sometimes I
make her reach down and feel how my cock is in her
pussy all the way to the hilt, and make her feel my
balls that are gonna pump her full of about a gallon
more cum. And by that time her pussy is squeezing and
oozing around my cock just to make it all hard again
and keep it there inside her, so I get hard and fuck
her several more times until I finally pull out. It's
kind of funny to see that fucked-wide-open gash of
hers all bloated and red and dribbling with my cum. I
make her stick her finger in my goo and scoop some of
it out and eat it. And tell her that she better get
used to the taste of my cum anyway since she's going
to be drinking it straight from the faucet next. You
know how it is, Mr. Gifford. Girls are crazy for cock
like that. Once I give them a taste they'll do
anything for more. Girls love cock."
And then Mr. Gifford said, almost in a hypnotized
whisper, "And even some guys."
"Guys like you, you mean," I said, wiggling my toes in
front of him. "Mr. Gifford," I said, taking a sip from
my cool refreshing lemonade and squinting my eyes so
they lasered into his fag soul: "Are YOU a fag?"
For two seconds a monumental struggle seemed to
torment Mr. Gifford then he confessed, "Y-yes I am. Oh
god yes. I-I'm a f-fag."
Mr. Gifford seemed almost relieved to tell me. It even
felt good to hear it. Poor guy. Probably been waiting
all his life to say that in front of a man.
"Then you probably ARE a fag." And I just started
saying some things that come naturally to me.
Things that are natural for a real man like me to say.
"It's good for you to admit it. It's good for you to
accept it. Being a fag is going to make you miserable
because fags are SUPPOSED to be sort of miserable.
That is their lot in life. But it's always at least
less miserable if you admit it. If you let it out. If
you tell guys you're a fag and that you need to serve
them. Do you need to serve me?"
"Yes, I-I need to serve you." His words were gushing
out in short relieved breaths. "I'm a fag. I'm a fag.
I'm a fag and I NEED to serve you. I need to serve
you, Oh God, I need it soooo bad!! Please please
please let me serve you, Cameron. I'll do anything.
Anything. Please. I'm a fag."
I said, "Okay okay. Relax. Take it easy... fag."
That's when he nearly wiggled in what I would later
recognize was a sort of faggot ecstacy. Mr.Gifford
stammered: "why don't you take off your shoes and
relax?"
So I did. The stupid fag was really drooling when he
saw my fifteen-year-old naked feet.
I wiggled my toes a little just to tease him. He
shuddered with yet still more of that faggot ecstacy,
and I could tell he was practically orgasming not only
in his jeans but somewhere deep in his desperate pervy
soul.
"Please," Mr. Gifford finally broke down. His voice
was all squeaky and beggy like a faggot's "Could I
just maybe kiss your-your toes just a little while?
Just please let me kiss your toes. You don't have to
do anything. Just relax there."
I acted super-offended, grossed out. Started calling
him a pervert, queer toelicker, footsucker, cumbreath.
Every name seemed to free his inner fag. Cum dump.
Cuntmouth. Pussyboy. He was just nodding his head in
agreement.
The stupid fuck offered me even MORE money if I just
would just please, just please let him suck. I smeared
the balls of my feet in his face and his tongue
started slobbering all over the soles of my sweaty
feet.
He slurped: "I won't tell anybody, I-I promise! Oh
god, please!"
Seemed like the worse I treated him, the more Mr.
Gifford liked it.
The hungry fag acted like I was doing him a favor.
Well I took the money that was on the coffee table
supposedly for mowing grass.
I said, "Well okay, I guess you can get your thrills
just kissing my toes. Go ahead. Get down there and
kiss my feet. Lick 'em and suck 'em."
You woulda thought it was the biggest treat in the
world! Man, the way Mr. Gifford got down on all fours.
He put his lips to my toes and made all sorts of
sloppy faggy noises he was was grateful to just be at
my feet.
I couldn't believe it! A grown man! Licking the toes
of a fifteen-year-old!
I have to admit, it felt good too. Just being fifteen
years old, and having this much power over a grown
married man.
When I told him to lick the jam between my toes, he
actually did it. When I told him to see how many toes
he could fit into his mouth, he really tried to fit
them ALL in! And when I told him to suck on my big toe
the way he would suck on my cock, this grown man was
actually down on all fours trying to follow my orders
as much as he could.
"Oh god, yes, your cock, your cock, your cock," he
said as he mouthed my big toe. His lips wrapped
themselves around my toe, with his tongue lasciviously
licking. He was panting like crazy and practically
humping the leg of the coffee table.
Man, if Mr. Gifford paid me money just to lick my
toes, what wouldn't he do for my cock?
Mr. Gifford never let up on his toe-licking but still
managed to say, "Please let me do this to your cock.
Let me have your cock the way you do the girls you
fuck. I'll give you more. More money. More anything.
Just... please... let me... let me..."
"That's pretty damn disgusting, " I said. "A grown man
like you being such a fag after all. Hold still." And
I sort of slapped him around with my feet some. His
face got all red but he knew he deserved it.
He was crying some even when he said "I'm sorry Sir."
Sir! He actually called me, Sir. Me, a fifteen year
old kid who was letting this thirty-something fag kiss
my toes for money!! He called me SIR! Ha ha!
I don't know quite how to say this but it actually
felt right. It felt good. It felt like this was what
we should have been doing all along.
Hell, I probably could've had him licking my feet and
doing every damn thing I told him to even when I was
ten years old. That day, not only did Mr. Gifford
finally get put in his place as a man-serving fag, but
I suddenly realized that I was discovering my place as
a superior male. I really WAS better than guys like
him. I didn't need to be respectful just because he
was some older cocksucker. I realized I could treat
him like crap and he'd be down on his knees begging
for more. That I had qualities and a cock that
DESERVED to be worshipped by fags.
I had a hunch there were more fags out there willing
to do more of the same thing. And no telling just how
far those fags would go.
I threw my socks at him, said something like "Here,
cunt-face fag, you can have fun rubbing your measly
little clit dick all around my socks thinking about my
feet kicking your balls and your butt. Just suck'em
clean once you spooge 'em with your fag-slime." I
pictured him humping my socks all night knowing he
could never really please a woman the way my cock
could.
Treating him like total dirt just got the fag more
excited. Mr. Gifford actually seemed grateful. Even
relieved. No wonder the fag's wife left him. This
lowlife cunt-face needed to serve cock and a cock-
master.
Then I grinned down at Fag Gifford trying to swallow
the manly funk of my socks. I said, "Maybe I'll be
back tomorrow. And you better be ready to do anything
I say. ANYTHING. You're a fag, and you definitely need
to be taught your place. You'll leave the door open
and you'll be naked on your knees just like I do when
I fuck my women. You better have more money on the
table and you better be ready to do anything, and I
mean anything I tell you to do, is that clear, faggot?
I'm going to train you to serve me properly."
"Yeth! Yeth thir!" Mr. Gifford stared up at me with
the socks in his mouth. "I'll do anything! Thank you!
Thank you Sir! I will do anything you say from now on.
Thank you for letting a faggot like me serve you. This
is what I need to do."
I still couldn't believe a grown man was on his knees
with my socks in his mouth, grovelling in front of
some kid who was 15 years old.
Now, I can't say that I conceived of my entire evil
plan of finding all the cocksuckers I could and using
them the way I wanted to all in that one night. But
pictures of all the different things I would do in
order to train Mr. Gifford, the way I would go about
it, all the stuff I would do to him, really started to
take shape.
How many MORE Fag Giffords were out there? What else
would they do to serve me? How would they pay homage
to me? How much would they pay me?
Hell, apparently you could just take over their lives
because their puny little fag lives weren't worth
living without swinging on a man's cock.
Sure I had a lot to learn about the minds of
cocksuckers and cash-fags, but the gist of it was
there all in that one fateful evening. Over the next
few months I would work out my technique but it all
came fairly naturally once I figured it out. I guess
that's why I'm a natural alpha male.
The next day, sure enough, the door to Mr. Gifford's
house was open and I just walked right on in like I
owned the place. (Which I did, actually.)
And there was Mr. Gifford, naked on his knees, his
pale little body quivering, that useless little clit
dick just like a little wet button sticking up like a
sprout in his hairy crotch. He was presenting himself
to me, me, a fifteen year old boy, to do with him
whatever the fuck I wanted.
It was a pretty pitiful and disgusting sight, a grown
man, a faggot really, trembling to learn to be even
MORE of a goddamn fucking faggot!!
Just pitiful. But fun. This was going to be fun. I was
going to discover how to make a fag listen to FagRadio
(training tapes basically), I was going to figure how
as an obedient faggot he was willing to turn over his
paycheck, his wife, his daughter, his car, his house,
just to fucking serve ME! This was going to fucking
fun and I was going to have fun fucking him.
The very next day he was going to meet me naked and
suck my cock for as long as I told him. I figured I
had about 6 or 7 loads of cum in me. I'd tell him if
he sucked it good, he might even get a chance to feel
my cock up his faggy cunt asshole. I told him all his
holes were really MADE to be pussies for me. If they
weren't trained already, I was going to make sure all
those holes of his were well-trained hot juicy pussies
for my use. And he would come to think of his holes as
just as exactly that after I got done with him.
I even started calculating how much I could make if I
could rent out those holes to my friends just looking
for a fag to nut in!
In fact, my cock twitched at the idea of all the fun I
was going to have that summer. I could feel a drop of
pre-cum form at the end of my cock just looking at him
cringing there--and now I knew just who I was going to
feed it to!!!!! LOL!!!
**
Any fags that wanna show their appreciation to a
$uperior alpha male like myself, feel free to $how me
your appreciaton at paypal and/or show me your
gratitude by getting me something from my gift list at
amazon under cameronbrock3@gmail.com. If you send me a
letter at cameronbrock3@gmail.com just remember I
don't wa$te time just playing with fags who don't know
how to show their immediate and con$tant appreciation.
FagRadio
I now got a copy of a new improved FagRadio which was
inspired by Fag Gifford, but now I use on a lot of
other fags to keep them under control. They even beg
me for a copy of it. It's part of their training but
also part of their punishment. So I made a CD which is
a sort of guided meditation CD of 45 minutes ME
brainwashing YOU as a constant reminder of what a
lowlife cocksucker you are! It's sort of like sleep-
learning and cognitive therapy, but a kind of guided
meditation for cocksuckers to learn to accept the fact
just being fags is what they were born for. Fags
report that it already makes them more submissive in
everyday life interactions with superior men. And
Masters report that it makes their cocksuckers even
faggier than ever.
That's available for 40 bucks plus 5 bucks shipping
and manhandling and fagtax at my paypal account of
cameronbrock3@gmail.com.
Later!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 74