Date: Fri, 16 Sep 2011 22:57:12 -0500
From: CAMERON BROCK III <cameronbrock3@gmail.com>
Subject: IF HE HOLLER$ MAKE HIM PAY PART 3 GAY AUTHORITARIAN

IF HE HOLLER$ MAKE HIM PAY   Part 3

by

Cameron Brock III (cameronbrock3@gmail.com)

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 fagslime, 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 coffeetable 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 coffeetable.

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 prolly 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 beggging 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, cuntface 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 fagslime."  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 cuntface needed to serve cock and a
cockmaster.

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 hommage 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 cashfags,
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.


Hell, even send some donation to Nifty.org for even giving you the ability
to fanta$ize your $icko fantasies like Dean Deere.

Later!