Tag: under 200

Ethics? Why should I care about ethics? I’m a scientist, and what I have done here is genius, a solution to a grave problem we all face. We are awash with criminals–our prisons filling up, and those who are released often return within months. I have only sought to find a way to make the world a safer place for the rest of us.

What is a man, really, beyond an animal? These men–these beasts–have already signaled that they have disregarded their higher human faculties. They have no desire to create, or love, or respect one another. I have simply forced them to become that which they already are.

Animalization is the solution. Sure, it might be painful, but they have no memory of it after the operation. My dog Bruiser was frolicking about the yard in days. Sure, he required a fair amount of training, but where before there was only a vicious skinhead–who I should mention, murdered by husband in cold blood–there was now a pet completely loyal to me. 

Sentence me as you will, but I will never believe that what I did was wrong. These men are monsters–beasts. I say we treat them that way.

Source: leepup

“Hell dude, you have no idea how awesome it is having a pet fag around, trust me…Fuck no, it doesn’t make me gay! Don’t be a dipshit. Look, I’ll take you to the shop tomorrow and get another collar so you can have one too…Yes he does everything I say, he can’t fuckin’ help it! I tell him to suck my dick, and he sucks my dick. I tell him to clean my apartment, he cleans my apartment. He’s on his knees right next to me, right now, just waiting for me to give him an order…Look, it’s easy. All you have to do is go to one of the bathhouses–…For the last time, none of this is going to make you gay, dipshit. It’s fuckin’ awesome man, now I always have a hole, whenever I can’t get a chick…He can’t get out, idiot. He can’t take the collar off, hey, where the fuck–

…

Yeah, I’m sorry. Your friend can’t talk with my cock down his throat. He’s gonna have to call you back–if I let him. *click*

Source: the-alley

Marcus didn’t know what to do. He kept trying to shave it, and within an hour, it was back, thicker and wilder than before. He decided to just let it go and see what would happen–and was thankful when the growth slowed and appeared to stop leaving him with a massive wiry beard coating his face.

That spell had been a horrible idea. He’d wanted a beard, but one he could control. He found the spellbook and flipped through until he found the counter curse and started casting it…but the strangest thing happened. His beard began twisting against his face, contorting his lips and jaw into slight changes. He lost control of the spell, strange syllables falling from his mouth, making something new.

He could feel the power resonate within him, and he felt itchy. Looking at his body, he saw hair filling in the rest of his smooth form in a thick layer, and there was nothing he was going to be able to do about it. The beard had more than a mind of its own–and there was no telling what Marcus’s new sentient pelt might do with him.

Source: thedailybeard

My housemate Mark–he’s a nice guy, but I feel like he’s taking this charity thing too far…Here, let me back up. Mark does a lot of volunteer work outside of college, and one thing he’s really involved in his helping the homeless. Well, one night last week he brought this disgusting bum home and let him sleep on the couch for a night. I woke up to Mark’s screaming, and I burst in his room and the fucker is naked with his hands around Mark’s throat. I bring the guy down–I mean, I know how to tackle from football–and the derelict gets carted off the jail…but…

Mark’s been acting really strange: missing classes, getting drunk and high, inviting all of these other derelicts around. He doesn’t even seem like the same person. And there’s this one new friend of his, I think he was…waiting for me in my room. He tried tacking me to the ground while saying these strange words…I don’t know, I just ran. I don’t want to go home, but I think they’re following me. Is…is that them? Oh god, no–

“Dang Tory, how much shit did you give him?”

“Well, I got ‘em drunk first, ‘n then some heroin–hey, if he wants tah know what it’s like tah be homeless, might as well give ’em the good stuff.”

“Shit, fuckin’ heroin? That’s pricey man, how much ya’d find on him?”

“Eh, not too much, but I got’s my payment elsewhere–he’’s a total fag man, look how hard his cock is, all chained up like that. He’s been beggin’ fer me cock–gettin’ me so damn hard…Already had his ass twice, ‘n look how hard he is, even drugged the fuck out. Think I’m gonna keep ’em, actually. Might be nice havin’ a pet fag around. ‘Sides, I can rent ’em out for some extra cash.”

“That’s fucked up Tory.”

“Eh mind yer own fuckin’ business. Panhandlin’ ain’t paying out like it used to–too many assholes takin’ all the good spots who ain’t even one of us.”

…

“How much?”

“Two bucks, either hole.”

“Here. I ain’t a fag, but a fresh hole’s too good to pass up.”

“I hear ya man, I hear ya.”

When my son told me he that someone was bullying him at school, I hadn’t imagined it would be a teacher. Apparently Mr. Wilson, his English teacher, was a bible thumping conservative–and as soon as he’d found out that my boy and I are gay, he’d started flunking him on nearly every assignment. 

Now, I’ve raised my boy right–he’s going to be strong, masculine man like his dad when he grows up, but while I knew he could take care of himself in a school yard brawl, I figured a more nuanced approach would be best here. I went in and tried talking like a reasonable man, but Mr. Wilson didn’t want to hear it, and the administration was no help…so I took matters into my own hands.

My son’s off at college now, and Mr. Wilson is in my basement. He doesn’t want to be there right now, but he’ll change his mind soon enough. I have four years to get him pretrained so I can hand the leash over to my boy as a present when he graduates. My boy’s first slave–goodness, how time flies.

Source: barebearnc

Yeah, I’m a computer geek, I work in IT, so what? I enjoy what I do. Sure, I’m not the most attractive guy, I’m pudgy, maybe don’t have the best hygiene, but I get enough action, trust me. I just call it one of my on the job perks. 

See, I have access to every computer in the office complex, and I’ve spent years developing my subliminal desktop application. See, there are these tiny flickers on every screen–no one really notices them unless they know what to look for, and I might plant a few suggestions for my fellow employees to follow. Take Rick for example. He’s been working out, and I love his new work clothes–those fatigues really look great. And damn, do I love cigar smokers, they get me hard as a rock in no time…Hey, don’t get me wrong, I love pipes like yours too–and it really looks good with that beard you’re growing for me, trust me.

So yeah, maybe I am a geek–but I have the whole office wrapped around my finger–including you. Now suck my dick, I haven’t got all day.

Source: suxitnnyc

Jake and Mitch were chatting behind the counter in the army surplus store, when a young man standing over by the boots said to the roughnecks, “I was wondering if you guys could help me figure out what boots size I should wear.”

“It’s usually the same as your shoe size,” Mitch said.

“Well, I have weird feet.”

With a sigh, Mitch went over, and saw that the kid had already kicked his shoes off, and then the stench hit him. His brain blew a few circuits, and drooling, he got down on his hands and knees, taking as much of the kid’s socked foot in his mouth as he could. Jake rushed over to see what was going on, and a moment later, he too had succumbed to the smell, and each taking a foot, the two roughnecks worshiped the kids feet, obeying his every order without a second–or even a first–thought. 

When he left, it was with a pair of free boots, and the promise of his two new slaves that they would come see him after their shifts–and not take off the filthy socks pulled over their rock hard cocks until then.

Boys these days have no discipline. I mean, our nation faces great peril every day, and they’re far more interested in their smartpads and jpods. Well not the boys who come to my shop–they all leave with a different outlook on life. 

My special lather makes them all willing to learn how they’ve been wasting their lives, how they should respect their elders and serve their nation. I’m not sure who’ll end up recruiting this one–maybe I’ll see whether he sucks cock more like a marine or a sailor before telling him where to enlist. It sure is easier now that Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is gone–all my army boys can suck as much cock as they want. The ones who’ve come back from service tell me that sucking their mates off definitely increases cohesion and camaraderie, and men in the service don’t need women back home distracting them. Their entire focus should be on making our country the greatest world power history has ever seen. Is it a sacrifice? Sure, but it’s one I make sure they’re willing to make.

Jeremiah had been furious when he’d found out he had to take special sensitivity training in the wake of the DADT repeal, but considering the vitriol he regularly spewed about “fags” and “dykes” he wasn’t surprised. Still, he was confident he’d come out of it without his views changing. Gays were sinners, and that was that, in his opinion. 

He’d arrived at camp, and was assigned to a platoon of like minded associates, all of them laughing about this bullshit, but over the coming weeks, as the soldiers were beaten, broken down, and humiliated over and over again by their gay staff sergeants, they all eventually had a change of heart. A few, like Jeremiah, found that their hatred against homosexuality was actually due to their own repressed sexual desires.

On his final night, he had a private training session with Sergeant Hale, and Jeremiah spent the whole night worshiping his superior’s boots and cock, begging for more. The next day, he discovered he had been reassigned–and would continue serving under the sergeant until further notice, but Jeremiah had to call him Master from then on.