Faggots are born to serve, to be used. We know deep inside that it's our real nature and purpose. Don't deny it, fags. There is no way to escape the truth.
I was going through a rough patch when I made my decision. Although, if I’m fair, my whole life up to that point had been one. I was a super horny gay boy from an ultraconservative town in the middle of nowhere, or at least I thought of myself that way, but that was really just the tip of the iceberg. I’d known ever since I discovered that sex existed.
Maybe it was the fact that I’d been the only gay person in miles when I was growing up. All my life, all the men I had ever known were masculine, hairy, virile, dominant men, or sweaty, manly, high school jocks. Maybe it was just something in my DNA. I was the opposite. However, I had never been able to feel any attraction for queer guys. In fact, there was always a part of me who felt that I wasn’t normal that way.
I had never even fantasized of me topping anyone. The idea of getting a blowjob made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t even really like jacking off like men did. I always flicked my nipples senseless when watching porn and felt immense pleasure from that. I could even have a handless orgasm just from that stimulation alone if I was horny enough, and did it for enough time. But that wasn’t the only sign I had of the fact that I wasn’t born like a normal gay guy.
I was, or rather still am, genuinely obsessed with masculinity. Hairy bodies, a hard, throbbing cock, thick, creamy cum, everything and anything manly drove me wild. Just seeing a man’s glob of spit hit the sidewalk casually, it not meaning anything at all to the guy, yet making me quiver with desire, was sign enough that I wasn’t born normal. The usually disgusting to anyone else smell of a man’s rank sweaty pits turned me on more than anything else in the world, and just looking at any sports player, jogger, or guy at the gym made a switch turn on in my head. I knew I was a slut even when I was a virgin up until the day I moved out to the city. It wasn’t a matter of doing anything, it was just the way my mind worked.
Like I said, however, I lived in a pretty small, ultra conservative town. I had virtually no friends, as everyone knew I wasn’t a real guy and found me disgusting for it. My dad was a no-nonsense cop, so they never really bullied me because they were pretty scared of him, but everyone made me feel like a freak all the time. It made me feel very lonely, but the looks of mockery and disgust coming from the jocks at school fueled my nipple flicking sessions or boypussy fingering ones every single night.
I never really felt comfortable at home either. My dad was constantly disappointed in me, and quite frankly disgusted as well. He never said anything, but he kept away from his sissy kid. My mother, on the other hand, she mostly felt pity. She was loving, warm, overprotective, but I knew where it all came from. She felt sad to have me as a son.
So, I mostly spent my time online, watching porn, masturbating, thinking about men. I basically went to school, studied, ate, slept and spent the rest of my time fantasizing about being the faggot slut to a real man, or many of them if possible. During my teen years I discovered BDSM, faggot-alpha relationships, how real men use cocksuckers and all the possible ways in which men can use cum swallowers for their pleasure and convenience. That’s exactly when I knew I would leave this town as soon as possible and move to a city where I could follow my calling. I was absolutely certain I was a faggot, and wouldn’t want it any other way.
Thus, I worked my ass off every summer during my teen years, saving up every penny I could. I skipped lunch at school everyday, and saved up that money instead. I started doing cardio, as well as leg and ass workouts, to develop the body alpha men would associate with faggotry, and a few days after I graduated high school I was on my way to the big city to never look back.
__
Read the rest of the story on my blog and follow for more chapters coming soon.
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A Five-Star Cocksucker *****
Chapter 1: An Undeniable Slut
I was going through a rough patch when I made my decision. Although, if I’m fair, my whole life up to that point had been one. I was a super horny gay boy from an ultraconservative town in the middle of nowhere, or at least I thought of myself that way, but that was really just the tip of the iceberg. I’d known ever since I discovered that sex existed.
Maybe it was the fact that I’d been the only gay person in miles when I was growing up. All my life, all the men I had ever known were masculine, hairy, virile, dominant men, or sweaty, manly, high school jocks. Maybe it was just something in my DNA. I was the opposite. However, I had never been able to feel any attraction for queer guys. In fact, there was always a part of me who felt that I wasn’t normal that way.
I had never even fantasized of me topping anyone. The idea of getting a blowjob made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t even really like jacking off like men did. I always flicked my nipples senseless when watching porn and felt immense pleasure from that. I could even have a handless orgasm just from that stimulation alone if I was horny enough, and did it for enough time. But that wasn’t the only sign I had of the fact that I wasn’t born like a normal gay guy.
I was, or rather still am, genuinely obsessed with masculinity. Hairy bodies, a hard, throbbing cock, thick, creamy cum, everything and anything manly drove me wild. Just seeing a man’s glob of spit hit the sidewalk casually, it not meaning anything at all to the guy, yet making me quiver with desire, was sign enough that I wasn’t born normal. The usually disgusting to anyone else smell of a man’s rank sweaty pits turned me on more than anything else in the world, and just looking at any sports player, jogger, or guy at the gym made a switch turn on in my head. I knew I was a slut even when I was a virgin up until the day I moved out to the city. It wasn’t a matter of doing anything, it was just the way my mind worked.
Like I said, however, I lived in a pretty small, ultra conservative town. I had virtually no friends, as everyone knew I wasn’t a real guy and found me disgusting for it. My dad was a no-nonsense cop, so they never really bullied me because they were pretty scared of him, but everyone made me feel like a freak all the time. It made me feel very lonely, but the looks of mockery and disgust coming from the jocks at school fueled my nipple flicking sessions or boypussy fingering ones every single night.
I never really felt comfortable at home either. My dad was constantly disappointed in me, and quite frankly disgusted as well. He never said anything, but he kept away from his sissy kid. My mother, on the other hand, she mostly felt pity. She was loving, warm, overprotective, but I knew where it all came from. She felt sad to have me as a son.
So, I mostly spent my time online, watching porn, masturbating, thinking about men. I basically went to school, studied, ate, slept and spent the rest of my time fantasizing about being the faggot slut to a real man, or many of them if possible. During my teen years I discovered BDSM, faggot-alpha relationships, how real men use cocksuckers and all the possible ways in which men can use cum swallowers for their pleasure and convenience. That’s exactly when I knew I would leave this town as soon as possible and move to a city where I could follow my calling. I was absolutely certain I was a faggot, and wouldn’t want it any other way.
Thus, I worked my ass off every summer during my teen years, saving up every penny I could. I skipped lunch at school everyday, and saved up that money instead. I started doing cardio, as well as leg and ass workouts, to develop the body alpha men would associate with faggotry, and a few days after I graduated high school I was on my way to the big city to never look back.
__
Read the rest of the story on my blog and follow for more chapters coming soon.