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.