Don't think that you can negotiate with me. You are here for one thing only; my pleasure. I will use you how I want; rough, aggressive and angry. I'm not interested in if you can take it. You will take it, and you will enjoy it. I know what kind of faggot you are; pain is your pleasure.

Obedience doesn't interest me.
Obedience is basic.

I want those that study me. Study my likes, my rules, my habits. But more than that; my culture, my history, my language. Because they know that without that effort, they will never be able to properly serve.

And serving me is what they live for.

Don't mistake my silence for caring. Your fear, your shaking and those pathetic noises you make, none of it matters to me. Your entire purpose is clear; to exist under my control.

You crumble because you need to,
You obey because I expect you to,
You shattered because I make you -
As it should be.

There's a ruthless kind of satisfaction, when I start the day with the knowledge a fag is already sitting beneath my desk, wordless and waiting. Their presence is a reminder that my authority doesn't need to be announced; it's understood and they stay at my feet because that is the order fo things.

We Asians are horny fuckers. There is a deep seated need within all of us to fuck, hard. The faggot's comfort is an irrelivance, as is the need of another to use it.

Bitches, like fags, were put on this earth to be used. They exist to be broken down until obedience is all that’s left. Every glance, every breath betrays that hunger to be owned. I don’t ask. I take. I decide when they serve and how they’re used. It’s not affection — it’s possession.

Power isn’t spoken, it’s felt. It seeps into the air, quiet and suffocating, until they forget how to resist. There’s a silence before surrender, a stillness where fear and desire blur into one breath. I enjoy the slow hunt, the certainty that they’ll always return to the hand that broke them.

AI finally doing something useful and showing me using your GF.

She saw the difference the moment I walked in. I didn’t have to take the lead; I was already leading. She followed because she felt the pull, the inevitability. I don’t persuade. I don’t chase. I attract.

And I keep what’s mine.

I abuse you, not because you deserve it or because you've been a good boy. You haven't and can't earn that right. I abuse you because I am entitled to do so. You and your body are nothing more than objects for me to use for my own satisfaction and amusement. So shut up and get used to it.

If you’re not built to endure, fuck off and stay away. When I take control, there’s no gentleness left — only the weight of my will crushing down until every trace of defiance is gone. You’ll either rise under it or shatter trying.

Back in the UK boys.
You know what to do.