UnBooks:Twelve little faggots
Part I[edit | edit source]
The devious sneaks are out there
There were rumours that there was a network of twelve faggots in our midst and I knew they had to go. This was the Manchester United Football training centre after all and who wants a gay virus turning everyone into boy buggering paedophiles? I was to track them down and cleanse the school of this plague as quietly as possible. First I got all the students tested for AIDS and when three of our junior football players tested positive I offered the choice to either out them as cock-suckers or let them resign and fuck off. Two of them did. The other said he was straight. Yeah right, as if straight men get AIDS. So I threatened to bugger him up the ass and give him my own goneria and hepatitis C if he didn't fuck off. Poor kid was only fifteen. He shat his shorts and ran away.
There were still nine fairies at large. FIFA's long term plan to keep pillow biting football players deep in the closet has been so successful that this mission of mine was extremely difficult. How to find out who is a faggot when we persecute them so heavily they spend their whole lives trying to hide it? I decided to go deep under-cover and made an account for every gay dating service and web site there was. I added so many apps and made so many accounts such as spooge-eater and bigDICKS4u I couldn’t even remember my own name. I hate my boss. He's an outright twat and so I used his photo as my profile image. I was hoping having his image going around on Grindr and Scruff and other fag websites would cause him problems which it actually did. I won't bother to tell you the kind of truly disgusting abominations I had to see while browsing profiles of perverts in Manchester. These animals have absolutely no shame and are utterly obsessed with displaying their stretched out rectums, their forever spraying pricks and their hairy asses. Seeing two guys blowing each other off was, actually, a pleasant image compared to the kind of obscenities they happily share with each other. I had to go home and fuck my wife several times to get it all out of my head and even that wasn't enough. I went online and watched some hard core shock porn, one with this negro with the biggest black cock you’d ever seen who literally ripped open this whore's vagina. Got my testosterone going and I finally blew my dick off. I still felt dirty and could get those gay images out of my mind so I went to a strip club and got a blowjob from a high priced dancer who had no teeth. But still, after all of that, the dating sites, the profiles, the stomach churning images and my endless distress afterwards...I didn't even track down a single faggots in my school. They knew I was on to them. It's a tough job. But that’s why they pay me the big bucks.
My wife has a cousin who is one of those modern faggots who thinks he can suck dick and still be masculine. My wife insisted be come over for dinner and give me some advice which I certainly didn't need but whatever. I didn't want his queer pheromones lingering around my house and my kids so we met in my favourite sports bar. John, a good lad, great bar keep…very knowledgeable about Man U past and present served us my favourite beer...an extra cold Guinness. My wife's cousin pretended that he liked it and drank it down fast and ordered a few more. There was white foam on his mouth which made me nauseous. So my wife's cousin told me that there are dating sites for professional sportsmen who think they can be homosexuals and athletes at the same time…which of course they can’t but they try. He gave me the website link and some other pointers that weren't completely useless. He finished off by telling me what I was doing was wrong and he was only helping me as a favour for my wife. I told him he was a stupid poofter and to keep his faggoty mouth shut and stay away from my kids. I asked him if he wanted a ride home and he told me that he actually had a date with John, my favourite bar tender which, I realised eventually wasn't a jokes. For the love of fucking God what happened to the United Kingdom? There’s another bar I’ll never go back to. Not with that fruit touching my pint glass.
Turns out several of my students were on that site. I called them into my office and offered to not expel any of them if they gave me the names of other faggots in the school. They thought they were being honourable by keeping silent but once I threatened to report them to the police as paedophiles they split the beans. Of course I still expelled them cause, there's no way I was letting them stay in the school I also still reported them to the police as paedophiles because, after all...they probably were. So nine down...and three to go.
I would have to break every possible privacy law and countless others to get my job done. But someone had to do it. What kind of football team would we have if some aspiring players liked blowing wads of cum in another guy's ass...or even worse having another guy blow a load up their asses. Absolutely no man, has any excuse for doing something like that. None. Why on earth would anyone want to do that. That's bloody nasty. We have asses. We have penises. The penises don't belong in the asses. Unless they are barely legal girls. This is just common sense. I feel like I'm living in a cuckoo world sometimes.
To track down another I sneaked into the locker room while they were all at practice and I looked for any traces of blood in their underwear. I saw one of them had a little blood stain there. I could only assume that before practice he paid some homeless guy to shove a cucumber up his ass and his anus was still bleeding. It was the only explanation that made sense. When I confronted him with it he of course, denied everything with some story about having a huge cut on his choda while his girlfriend was trying to shave his balls. I was personally offended that he thought I'd believe it and I expelled him warning if he reported an unfair dismissal to the administration or went to the newspapers that he'd never work in the sporting world anywhere ever again. He left in tears, which only confirmed my suspicions that he was a pussy homosexual. And besides, a man shaves his own fucking balls. Christ all mighty.
Two left. The next one was fairly easy. I had to do the monthly review of all the students personally interviewing them. The air-conditioning makes the school a fucking iceberg in the summer which make my nipples rock hard. It's so annoying sometimes I have to put fucking chap stick on my nipples so they don't bleed. That day I wore a tight shirt that day buttoned low revealing my bulging chest and my frozen nipples could be very clearly seen through my shirt sticking out like two mountains. As I gave the interviews some of the students looked down at some point with incredulous looks somewhat disgusted which is the correct reaction to any guy seeing another man’s peeky nipples. But I noticed that one student was looking a little too often. He might have been one of “those people”. So I asked him what his favourite Cold Play song was and when he responded with the actual name of a song, instead of "what the fuck...why would I ever listen to those whinging pussies"? I knew I got him. It was too easy. I told him he was a disgrace to the school, that it was disrespectful to stare at other men's nipples and I booted him out of the school. I secretly posted him some brochures for gay conversion therapy because, he was one of the more promising players and I thought he could redeem himself one day if he smartened up.
Part II[edit | edit source]
I took the lads out to my new favourite sports bar a dozen at a time. We talked a little about football and then about the managers hot secretary and then I told them some stories of my university conquests. Like this one night when we handed some of the lasses some spiked drinks and after they passed out we fucked them like animals. Most of the boys laughed because, not only was it just hilarious but it was also what a conquistador does. Most of them high-fived me, but one of the boys didn’t think it was that amusing. I mean, not admiring another guy for shagging several unconscious sluts? Something was clearly wrong.
When he was playing a match I went to his stall and I sniffed his jeans to see if they smelt like Vaseline or ass lubricant but no luck. I snuck a little note in his pocket saying that I was one of the other players who thought he was hot and gave him my number in case he was interested. But he never called it. I decided my best bet was to start patting him on the back or resting my hand on his shoulder for a little too long. He reacted pretty much as any respectable football player would: any male on male contact other than directly following the scoring of a goal...was completely inappropriate and you should immediately flinch if another guy touches you. Of course if you score a goal then hugging and jumping all over each other on a big man pile and smacking each other's buts made sense, but touching another guy at any other time was just fucking gay. Gross.
I was becoming desperate and I couldn't bare the thought of a gay student hiding in my institute and getting away with it. So I decided the only way I could be sure he was gay would be to invite him to go watch a film together. He said "uhh...okay I guess" and the fact that he even accepted the offer at all told me I was on the right track. Who goes to the cinema with another bloke you barely know? Even if you feel obligated to because he’s a manager at a school you are training at. You just don’t do that. We saw a chick flick and I was hoping he’d cry at the climax of the film like I did..but his eyes were dry. I then suggested we have dinner to which he reluctantly accepted, it seemed more and more he was tagging along out of respect for me. So I couldn't tell if he said yes to not piss me off or if he thought that dinner might lead to me pounding his ass all night.
We went to a nice French restaurant and I ordered ribs but he just had a salad. Normally that would clearly scream FAGGOT but the players were supposed to eat healthy. I asked him if he'd prefer fucking Jennifer Anniston or Sarah Jessica Parker (any answer other than Jennifer Anniston meant you were bent). He said he thought both of them were too old for anyone his age to shag which sounded more like he was trying to avoid the question. Though maybe he had a point. Those bitches be old.
When we finished eating I insisted on paying and told him we should go for a ride on my motorcycle. "Oh I've always wanted to test drive a BMW"! he said. No you can ride on the back I replied. He didn't seem that interested but I told him I wasn’t asking him to but telling him to. Riding on the back of my bike would likely give him away. If he put his hands on my lap and rested his head against my back the game was over. He actually rested his hands on the side of the seat, which is actually quite hard to do. This job was harder than I thought but, that’s why they brought out the big guns, me that is. We rode to my place and I asked him if he wanted to come up and have a drink. He asked me if that was appropriate and I snapped back angrily "are you going to refuse having a drink with one of your school supervisors"? To which he said "okay I guess I'll come up". I lit a few candles and put on some soft music and I mixed a couple mojitos. He made no comments about how well decorated my flat was which was disappointing because I had done it up nicely. "Do you live here alone" he asked. "No but my wife and kids are away for the weekend so it just you and me here...alone". He didn't reply. I sat next to him on the sofa and I put my hand on his knee. "So you're doing really well this year". He seemed extremely uncomfortable and let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah..hahaha...I think I'm getting better each season". It was time to give up. He wasn't taking the bait and clearly wanted to run away.
Part III[edit | edit source]
The game changer
And that's when I realized I’d been doing it all so wrong. It was so obvious. There was no pizazz. No personalization. No flirting. No jokes. If I were to catch him out...I had to do it at a more human level. "Hey you know what...have you ever been to the VIP box during a game"? He suddenly lit up. "No never. I thought students were never invited". They never were. But I could make an exception. "It would be no problem" I said. I made a call and there was definitely room for two more for a match with Chelsea. I put on some sweet smelling cologne and did my hair up nice in the mirror and dressed up with my devilish sunglasses. When we got to my motorcycle I asked him if he wanted to drive. He almost creamed his pants at the chance to drive a BMW bike. As we drove I held onto his love handles and by the time we got to the arena my hands were on his lap and he didn't seem to mind. Either it excited him or he was so stoked riding my bike he didn't notice. This last fucking faggot is so hard to detect it's almost like he just wants to be left alone and live his life without anyone knowing. Which just cannot be true cause those fags love nothing more than shoving the rainbow in our faces all the time. Why can’t they just be consistent?
He seemed to have a blast all night long meeting a few well old players and the president of the club. I told him a few stories about the good ole days when David Beckham played and our crazy nights out. That his wife was a total bitch. We had imported beer and I asked him what his dream team line up would be and he told me with a big smile and enthusiasm. He knew the entire Premiership line-up. Impressive! By now most people had left the box and he seemed relaxed an himself. He even had a smile on his face. The waitress asked if we wanted anything. I asked her to leave us a plate of wings and she could take off for the night. I knew it was now or never. I had to make my move. "So are you single lad"? I asked him. "Yeah. Never had much luck in the romance department". "Well..." I told him "you don't have time for romance. You're studying and training and while you're good...you're not good enough to just coast through. Distractions will just keep you from your goal. You gotta give it everything if you want to make the premiership". I thought some fatherly advice would break down his defences. "That's really cool Sir. Thanks for the advice" he said. "Don't call me Sir. You can call me Ed". He smiled and said he'd rather just call me sir. He was still defensive. And I knew that I had failed. All of this was for nothing. So my only hope was to probe his mind with my mind reading abilities. Which I knew I should no longer use, since last time it caused a nose bleed, brain haemorrhage and a severe concussion for the last victim of mine. But I had to know. I started reading his thoughts, at first it was stuff about the school, friends, random thoughts. But when I probed deep down inside of him…there was a clear image of me cuming all over his face, wiping my spooge off his lips with his hand and greedily sucking it all off his fingers.
It seemed like pretty strong evidence. But mind probing just wasn’t enough. I wanted to be absolutely sure. So I went up to him, grabbed the back of his head with my hands and pushed his face against my groin. I held him there as he gagged for air, resisting and pushing away but I kept him there. Eventually he calmed down and looked up at me. I told him to slowly undo my belt. His hands were shaking. "Take it off...slowly" I commanded. He slowly unbuckled my belt. "Now reach into my pants and take out my cock" I told him. He unzipped my pants and grabbed my stiff erect penis and pulled it out. I was now quite sure he was a faggot but I had to do the ultimate test. "Do you want to swallow it"? I asked him. He nodded up and down. "Are you a greedy little bitch who wants my sausage"? I asked. He said yes. I pulled back my foreskin. "Now lick all the head cheese off my dick. Slowly". He carefully cleaned my dick with his tongue. "Now lick the tip" I said. He sucked on it gently like it was a soother. "Now swallow away" I told him. He immediately started smoking my dick like an out of control vacuum cleaner. I grabbed his head and rammed my prick in and out of his mouth faster and faster until I utterly exploded with an avalanche of milk spewing all over the place. I held him as firmly as possible to my groin so that he swallowed as much of my man milk as possible. "You like my man-milk inside of you"? I asked. He nodded. "You like it lingering in your throat". He said yes with my still rigid dick in his mouth. Well...after all of that I was about 99% sure he was the faggot I was looking for. But something in the back of my head told me I shouldn’t stop there. I really needed to absolutely confirm it was true. Perhaps he was just playing along so I needed him to take some initiative.
"So what do you want to do now"? I asked him. He undid his jeans and took down his drawers and stretched open his ass and told me he wanted me to feed his rectum with my man juice. I didn't have a condom so I just spat on my still rock hard dick and threw him on the sofa. I straddled him and shoved my dick deep up his ass. He groaned wrapping his legs around me and dug his fingernails into my back. "Harder" he said. I pumped away like I never had before utterly tearing his rectum several new holes. He moaned like a little bitch. "You've never had grade A beef like this before have you"? I asked. "No sir. Don't stop". I wailed away. I slapped his face and pinched his nipples and he slapped and pinched back. I started choking him and he moaned from the pleasure of erotic asphyxiation. He started choking me back and we both nearly strangled each other to death. I was now pummelling so hard I think my dick was bleeding. I asked him if he was ready for my man-juice. "Yeah" he said. “I want you to spray your man-juice all the way into my colon. My anus is utterly starving for it”. With those words I couldn’t hold back anymore and I utterly erupted inside of him. This set of a cataclysmic orgasm for both of us and his dick spewed like a raging fountain of milk up in the air that reached the ceiling. We both had to rest for a while was we had nearly strangled one another and to come down from such an intense orgasmic love making session. He lied his head down on my chest for ten minutes and I petted his hair. I was now 99.99% sure he was as queer as John Elton. But still I had tiny lingering doubts. It still could have been all a show. So I asked him if tonight had surprised him and he told me he had been dreaming about me for months. That he never in a million years expected such a fantasy to come true. "Oh yeah" I asked. "What is it about me you like so much"? "Well..." he said "not just your rocking body and your sexy moustache...but also the way you swagger. How you just take control of a room when you enter". It was certainly a compliment even if it was coming from a likely faggot. His praise of me started giving me an erection. "Should we change positions"? he asked. I looked at him incredulously. "What do you mean"? "How about I drive this time"? he asked. If I understood what he was implying he wanted to shove his dick up my anus. It was a pretty unappealing proposal but I thought, if he went through with it then there would be no doubt he was the final poofter I was searching for. This is why they pay me the big bucks. "Okay..." I said "but hurry up I gotta go soon". He said he wanted to do me from behind. "All right" I agreed. "What do I do...do I just stand up against the wall"? I asked. He said it was a good idea. "Be gentle" I asked. He had a really big dick so I knew this was going to hurt a lot. But that's why they pay me the big bucks. Someone has to do the dirty work.
It was uncomfortable to say the least when you first have a penis go up your ass. I'd say the tearing of your anus muscle was more painful than the actual though of...there is a penis inside me. He was, however, as promised, tender and gentle constantly asking me if I was okay. He kissed me on the back of the neck which helped me relax and simply enjoy the moment. After a while I got into the rhythm and, almost as by human nature, I started beating off. "Don't be a little pussy bitch" I told him. "Destroy my anus" I said. He did his best but I'd have to say I was fairly disappointing. He fucked like a little pansy. He told me he was about to blow and I thought him jizzing inside of my anus would be uncomfortable not to mention the squishy feeling and the leaking and it was also so unsanitary plus…he probably had AIDS. So I turned around and blew him until he came down my throat. I orgasmed when it happened which I imagined is a pretty natural thing to do...even if you are only just doing it to test whether the other person is a homo. I'd have to say it was a lot more goey and gravy like than I'd have expected and didn't really taste that bad. Sort of like sweet egg-nog. We were both tired after it all and needed to sleep a bit. We both spooned on the sofa with my arms wrapped around his. We slept until the early morning and when we woke up I made him some coffee. We had a quick breakfast and I gave him a peck on the cheek. "I had a really nice time tonight" he told me. "Well I'm glad you enjoyed it" I said. "It's a nice way to say farewell". He laughed. "What do you mean"? "Well...my job is done. I had to be completely sure you're a faggot and you are. We can't have you going around trying to bugger the other players". "This is some terrible joke isn't it"? he asked. "I wish it were. Best you leave without making too much of a fuss". Tears started rolling down his eyes.
"Don't start crying on me you fucking school-girl-twat. So be a good lad and grab your things and fuck off". Instead of leaving he just broke down and cried collapsing into a huge mess. It was very awkward. "Look I told him" picking him up and holding him in my arms, kissing him on the cheek and caressing his back. "You're not built like the rest of us. You have a genetic flaw. It's not my fault you aren't able to love someone the right way". "Yeah...but neither are you…" he replied. That was totally uncalled for I thought, it infuriated me so I did the only thing that made any logical sense. I punched him in the face and told him to stay off of school property if he knew what was good for him. “He asked if I’d at least drop him off at home and I told him there was no chance I’d let a faggot onto my BMW motorcycle. I grabbed my things and took off. It was quite difficult mounting my motorcycle, after, you know, having had an object thrust in and out of my asshole. But the vibrations of the motor helped relax my sphincter and decided to pass by a whore house. I tried twenty-five different women but, for some reason I cannot figure out...I just couldn't satisfy myself. It can only mean one thing. I'm simply too tired after this cat and mouse detective game. In any case, I had to get ready for my new assignment for the next week. There was a report that there were at least four Muslims in the Manchester United School, of which, naturally, all of them were Jihadist terrorists. My job wouldn't be to identify them because, after all...all the darkies are Muslims. My job would be to find excuses to kick them all out. Which isn't easy as I kick so many students out I’m running out of excuses. But first I had to go home and roll out my carpet in the direction of Mecca and pray to Allah. It’s a hard life. But that’s why they pay me the big bucks.