Images, thoughts, dreams... What next?
What else could my sick and twisted mind come up with that hadn't been thought of already?
I'm gay; not one of those little fucking submissive flower boys you find in those weird ass yaoi comics.
So why was I having these crazy dreams?
Why was I imagining myself submitting to Jack fucking Prescott?
I'm not naturally submissive. I don't claim to have been born like I am... Too have even taught myself to want to submit.
All I know is that whenever I see Jack Prescott...
I just wanna drop down on my knees by his feet, and serve him like a dog would do it's owner.
Like a slave would do it's master.
Because to me it didn't matter that Jack Prescott probably didn't even know I existed.
To me he's my master and always will be.