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Was I really a fag. I was sitting at the bar and this guy just kept whispering to me “Come on faggot, you know you want it. I bet your pussy is hot.” I wasn’t a fag. I was a man. I was strong. I might be a bit of a gender queer, but I liked pussy not dick. Finally, the bar cleared out except for me and him. How the hell did that happen. He had trapped me by my pony tail add dragged me across the room. He had slammed me onto a table and put me in metal hand cuffs. “Now pussy boy, you are going to get what you been craving all night.” He jerked my pants down and began to finger my ass. “Look at those pussy lips grabbing at my finger. Pleading for something bigger. Something to breed that cunt.” I tried getting up but he kept slamming me down. H stripped off his clothes and told me, “This is what real men look like.” His dick was hard and threatening. He modeled for me, strutting about. Finally he grabbed my ass and pulled apart my ass cheeks. “Get ready faggot. Here it comes.”



Black Spark — Before the Kill.

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(Source: teenegersdoitbetter)

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