Fag On A Train
Fag On A Train
It was a typical Friday evening, trading day done and on route home, I jumped on the train at London Bridge. It was 8pm and not very busy, so I could see all the passengers in the carriage busy looking at their phones. Amongst the passengers I spotted one of the junior clerks from my firm, a young guy like me who had started a month ago, except that I had guessed he was a fag from the first moment I saw him being walked around the office on his induction day. I had caught him several times over the first few days taking more than glances at me, finding reasons to walk past my desk, trying to initiate conversation with members of my team. This fag boi wanted in on my life, I could tell, but I had never exchanged a single word with this weak little bitch before and I wasn’t going to start today, even though I could see it now taking glances at me across the carriage. I suspect it thought I might make polite conversation with it, little did it know that I considered it to be a bottom feeder, a lowly clerk and there was no chance it was getting any convo from me, I couldn’t be seen talking to this office runt.
Taunting Fag On Train
Midway through the train journey I decided that it might be fun to taunt this little faggot, so I put my headphones in, as though I was listening to music, and I walked over to its train booth, and without making eye contact I sat down on the seat next to it. I could feel its eager glare trying to initiate conversation even though I was clearly on the phone. I could see this dumb runt shuffling around next to me, so instead of acknowledging it, I dropped my briefcase to the floor in front of me, and as I sat back up, I deliberately widened my sitting stance, my muscular gym toned thighs pressing into its scrawny little thighs. I could see it squirm from my peripheral vision. I could feel this weak faggot receding so I took it as more reason to oppress this little bitch. I pumped out my strong thighs, unapologetically stretching them out and powerfully spilling over onto its seat. The weak faggot's small legs tensed while being squashed by my massive rock-solid male thighs. I could almost feel the faggot trembling uncontrollably, it was being pressed into the window by me, and no one else was in this part of the train carriage to protect or save it.
Fag Feel Scared Alone On Train
I know it was scared, what was it supposed to do in this situation? I bet it was suffering in its head, trying to take up less and less space in its seat, hoping not to evoke my anger, hahahaa this weak little fag man, a cunt , a tiny little cunt, the likes of which I have made crawl on their knees for me, might at one time in its head have considered that I might speak with it, how dare it think that! All the time I squashed this cunt into the window, I hoped that it wouldn’t get so hyperventilated that it passed out, I didn’t need that problem on my hands. After pressing the faggot into the window for a further 45 minutes I eventually saw my stop coming up next, so instead of standing straight up, I reached down to pick my briefcase up and deliberately knocked its bag over, and then stood up, internally I was laughing that this level of oppression was not enough to make the faggot take a stand, but clearly it wasn’t. As I walked away, I knew that this was a fully certified 100% fag, so it was going to get that treatment from now onwards.
As I turned on the platform outside the train, I again caught sight of this deplorable lowlife faggot, sitting there, stunned, tense, looking as though it had encountered a mix between its perfect God and the devil itself. The look on its face was that of a satiated rat, dumbstruck by what had happened, but internally full to the brim with what it needed in its life. This fag must already have known the hierarchy of men, and if it didn’t, it was about to learn from this point onwards.
Office Fag Worships Daily
What an insignificant waste of space this tiny faggot was! At least it knew its place in that moment on the train, and whether it knew it then or not, I would remind it of that, moving forward. This faggot, through its inability to protect itself, to have any dignity or respect, had cast itself into my den of fags, and now it was my job to work out what types of worship it would do for me.
So if you are a weak little fag like this boi was, then find your office Alpha, your dominant office guy, and make sure you worship him, treat him like the god he is, don’t wait for your own “train incident” to learn that your place is to worship real men, your job is to serve. DO IT daily !
If you are in this type of office situation, call me, message me, and let me tell you the next steps to take, to make you into the perfect faggot worshipper.
