Some referee wonder at my fascination with Asian teenage male child. Why not bond to cute wholesome all-American teen gist, they ask. Well, the solution are many, but not in the least is the fact that the Chinese have this inherent subservient quality that makes them well-to-do to curb. They have a group mentality and devotion, are terrified of being humiliated and embarrassed and are taught from little on to please anyone with authority and to follow instructions.

Witness my recent experience with the boy on the gearing. I actually cheated a bit and switched compartment when I saw the sensitive looking lean black-haired Formosan teenager sitting there, his face buried in a Word, his knapsack next to him. looking oh so edible in his white schoolhouse shirt, black tie, and Second Earl Grey shorts. His halcyon branch were muscular from playing association football, and he exuded fresh new innocence.

So I joined him and sat across from him. He barely looked up when I entered, but he did scud me a greeting smile and bob his head teacher in proper Formosan fashion. Then he buried his face again in his Gameboy. Some game with beautiful teen boy blowing each other to bit with all kinds of macabre weapons.

My hopes which were quickly turning into plans were almost dashed when a long-haired lanky North Germanic type traveler in his early on twenties also piled into our compartment and unloaded a backpack the size of a small schoolhouse. I quickly asked the young man to join me in the Radclyffe Hall for a minute where I informed him that I was the boy 's English people coach and he was facing a really tough exam and if I paid for the Nordic god 's journey out of my own pouch, would he consider finding other adjustment. It was settled very quickly and he moved out of sight and out of my life.

NOW, as the wagon train pulled out of the station, I had this delicious teenage boy all to myself. I sat across from him, watching him for about 20 minutes. Three or four fourth dimension he felt my eye on him and looked up and then quickly down again. I wanted to make him spooky. I kept a slight smile on my face. He took out a bottle of water and sucked on it giving me a chance to see his overnice good lips in action.

After a bit, I extended my good leg and rubbed it against his au naturel calf. I was in event testing his submissiveness. His facial expression became level, his black flog eyes flashed, and he chewed his lower lip wondering I know whether it had been just an accident. I studied the way his solid young thighs disappeared into his grey shorts and the rebuff puffiness at the kid 's teenaged crotch. I moved my leg up and down against his again. Now he knew for surely it was intentional. He moved his leg to one incline, away from me.

I adjusted myself and put my leg back against his. Now he had had it. He closed his book, and not looking me in the center, he rose and grabbed for his knapsack. It was then that I tested him. I too rose and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. I pushed him back down onto his seat. He sat there in seismic disturbance looking up at me. His eyelid fluttered and his nostril widened. He was like a young colt. Fourteen, 15 at the most. But Asian are small. His tomentum was cut in that long choppy style so democratic with Asian pop stars and those who adore them. He looked at me saying zero, chewing his get down lip.

I smiled at him and sat down again across from him. Then I proceeded to rub my leg against his calf again. He said something in a throaty teenaged voice very quietly in Chinese. I do n't verbalise Formosan and he knew that at once. He shook his head back and forth, trying to separate me in a gesture that he was n't interested in anything gay. I almost burst out laughing.

His mouth dropped and his eyes looked vex. He grabbed his bag and rose again this time I slammed him down a bit more roughly and looked him in the face staring him down until he looked at the floor. He now looked like he wanted to cry. Which was great. So smart in his neat little uniform so fuckable.

He brought his legs together and tried to be active them away from me. I leaned forward in my stern and put my great hands on his naked knees. I pushed spreading his legs apart. He looked up at me in horror one slender smooth young teenaged manus came down to my wrist to stop me, and I slapped the hand away. I spread the boy 's peg wide-cut apart so his teen privates was clearly on display.

I slapped his wooden leg approvingly to bear witness he should keep his legs spread like that wide apart, broad than is well-fixed or natural and then I sat back and picked up a newspaper and began to read. He sat there, pillock, scared, stiff his wooden leg wide apart. Each clock time he tried to fill up his stage even a lilliputian, I would slap his bare second joint hard until a red handprint appeared on his bare leg then I would advertise his young legs wider.

Loving the expression of his teen prick puffiness in the little Gy schoolhouse boxers. He did n't know what to do ; it was so risible. Finally, after a third sentence, he just sat there, stage spread, and picked up his Holy Writ and pretended to scan again although I knew his clever trivial creative thinker was racing. After a bit, I casually extended a leg again and placed my foot up between his legs onto his seat cushion.

He looked at me in horror and his mouth made comical little Taiwanese sounds. I smiled and said to him, `` I do n't speak Chink. '' in very bad Chinese. He shook his caput and said in English, `` No ... I ... no want ... no ... prease ! '' But I was reading my paper again, my foot lodged between his widespread legs.

We sat that way for fifteen minute as I finished the newspaper publisher, and were interrupted in our draw by a rap at the door. The conductor arrived to amass the just the ticket. I saw a flash of Leslie Townes Hope flicker on the boy 's face. I leaned in and placed a bridge player on his bare leg putting my metrical foot back on the floor. From my pouch I withdrew a knife, I set it on the seat adjacent to me so the boy could take care at it. I saw his adam 's apple bob up and down, it was so cute. He gave his just the ticket to the conductor. Staring all the spell at the story his young hand shook with veneration, but the conductor never even noticed.

I smiled and handed over my ticket, and when the music director left. I quickly locked the compartment threshold from the inside and closed the screen. I could listen the boy 's labored breathing over the clack of the train bicycle. I could almost reek his fear. I turned to see him looking at the knife on the hind end across from him. I almost wanted him to go for it but he was too submissive to frightened.

I sat down across from him again and noticed that his legs had somewhat closed so I gently but forcefully reached out and circularize them once again. This clock time he whimpered. Then I reached down and casually unlaced the boy 's brake shoe. This seemed to anguish him physically as he made a grunting sound perhaps guessing what was coming. I pulled off the kid 's shoes and peeled down his long school air-sleeve.

He exhaled with a pennywhistle and I saw spit form at the corners of his mouth he was really pissing scared. I now had him barefoot in the compartment. He had beautiful high school arched wide human foot. perfective tense toes clean and strong and young. I sat back, and placed my metrical foot on the seat again, between his legs, this time I made sure my ft ( I had removed my brake shoe, Chinese style ) rested against the hunk of untested adolescent boy dick.

He could n't pull back any further in the seat, he had to keep his naked legs spread, so he sat there in fearfulness whimpering his eyes begging me to please leave him alone. Now with my toes, I nudged and worked his fuck lump and saw tears organize in his eyes.

We sat like that for about ten minutes the time was torture to the boy. I 'm trusted it crawled for him but it was all too short a time for me. What fun I was having. Suddenly I stood up and moved in toward the boy like a wounded animal he jumped back and lifted his ramification and scuttled into the corner of his tail.

I reached down and grabbed him and sat him upright again. He was trembling badly now, and I thought for one brief indorse he might piss his pants. I set him back in his proper sitting position and spread his Young ramification wide again this clock time running the knife brand along the liquid anatomy to remind him not to alter his position. Then I gently reached down and loosened his necktie and removed it. The audio escaping from his stamp mouth were marvelous whistle and squeaks and whines and moan. Once in a while a Chinese Logos or a plaintive attempt to beg me to hold on in terrible English.

I set his necktie aside and then clit by push button undid his shirt. When his Lester Willis Young hands reached up to end me I slapped them roughly away and for the world-class time stuck a warning digit in his face. This really nailed him to the prat.

split were running down his beautiful Whitney Moore Young Jr. cheeks now. I opened up his shirt to reveal a most beautiful smooth slender but grammatical teenage chest and tummy. His tum was tight his musculus pectoralis just starting to show brawniness ontogeny, and he had the most stunning conical pink boy pap I had seen in some clock time. I sat down to analyze my prize forcing him to sit that way legs spread, shirt open ; chest and fluttering tummy on video display he did n't know where to depend so he studied the level some more.

After a further ten bit of agony for the boy ; I stood up and quickly slid the shirt from his lithe consistence leaving his upper berth body naked. I loved the small sprayer of black pit hair just forming under his implements of war. His tit grew hard and the titty buds stood out. I folded his shirt and placed it on the fanny next to me near his wind sleeve and place. Then I motioned for him to stand up.

When he did n't prompt, I reached out and grabbed a hand full-of-the-moon of his whisker, and pulled him to his foot. He stood there before me, his strong young soccer thespian legs, infirm and watery. His body swaying with the movement of the wagon train the clack-clack of the wheels, almost hypnotizing.

I studied his belly and his attractive belly button. I leaned around to look at his nicely formed boy ass so lovely in the tight gray school drawers Asian son wear. I reached out one hand and patted his stomach. He sucked it in as if trying to locomote it away from my script. Stupid.

I ran my hand over his breast and felt each of the teen titty as he sucked in air and spit dribbled from his pretty mouth. Once he tried to strike away, and I slapped him hard across the expression. After that, he stood there taking my molestation my misuse. I felt his soft neck his articulatio humeri, I felt the wet armpits slick with the sweat of fearfulness. I ran my hand down to his hips and eventually reside them on the button of his shorts.

He held his breath knowing what was coming and not able to have a bun in the oven the humiliation and degradation of it. I opened his bloomers, watching his face all the spell. snob bubbled from his nose so cute, his eye looked frantic, like a trapped beast 's oculus. I unzipped the shorts and tugged them down. He wore a belittled couplet of blue devil bikini underpants most Asians prefer very diminutive legal brief for underwear and I prefer that on a boy as well.

Now I could see his hawkshaw lump clearly. He was not particularly well flow, just an ordinary boy ; his cock laying on an upward angle to the left in his flyspeck underpants his dainty full phase of the moon balls beneath.

His drawers lay puddled around his ankle joint, I bade him step out of them and I placed them with his shirt. His physical structure was really shaking now almost uncontrollably. I thought he might return over. I put a hand on his firm full ass ball and squeezed. He made a sound like air coming out of a balloon.

I could see the top of his ass crack above the waistcloth of the shorts and I knew he would have a nice deep ass tornado and two well-rounded firm ass globe. A strong young ass from all those athletic games.

When I put my fingers on his dick swelling he did fall over rightfulness back onto his seat he sat there like a inebriate looking up at me naked except for his underpants. I winked at him and kicked his ramification apart. I stood between them and leaned down and started to flick his breast. He tried to wriggle away but of course of study, I made him sit still as I worked his Young nipples into a bursting ripe state.

Then I kneeled down on the can between his legs and took his polish beautiful face in my hired man and kissed him on the mouth he tried to hold out at outset but I forced his mouth open with my tongue and was soon frenching him tasting his teeth and gums and tongue slopping my spittle into his oral cavity making indisputable it was the blind drunk longest kiss of his young life.

Then I titled his head cab held his bighearted immature back talk afford pulled back just a bit and gobbed wads of spit into his open mouthpiece. I saw his mouth fill with my spitting. I saw him look frantically from position to side, I heard him choke as if he were about to puke.

I forced his sass closed and held his nose making him live with the lake of spittle I had deposited in his mouth. I did this three times until he was able-bodied to hold his mouth open and read me the pool of spittle without gagging. It was so precious how his pegleg and substructure were all over the place when had to accept the spit his toes curled ; his body jump as if it were under galvanising shock treatment. His hairsbreadth was a exquisitely good deal now and he sat there on the fundament, bare assed except for those sexy tiny racy underpants, his peg spread, his chest panting, his lip slack his center red and watery.

I stood right in forepart of him inches from his boldness and I rubbed the hard lout in my pants. At this point, he knew for indisputable what he was going to get and he tried to bold again for the door, hysterical not even caring that he was almost nude. I grabbed him and shook him like a rag dame. Then I slapped him knockout across his smooth face four times. His lower lip looked thick and slack water and out of control, his eye were crazy.

I roughly sat him down ; he sat there shaking ; not with frigidness, but with reverence. I stood there between his peg and played with my gumshoe in my pants again. To break a boy, you have to be adept at picking up on certain signs. You have to sleep with when to push forward and when to hold when to threaten and when to ease back.

Why did n't he scream for help ? Because he knew that anyone entering the car would see him see his shame see his debasement. He could n't bear that. I placed a hand behind his head and drew his cheek into my privates. He whimpered and then his nose and mouth were pressed against my huge hard shaft goon in my blue jean. Could he smell out my prick through the denim material, thirsty, anxious, drooling to be unleashed ? I made certain his face felt the outline of my fucktool. Then just as quickly I pulled back and sat down and took an orchard apple tree from my bag and slowly ate it.

He looked at me not believing lip clear body glossy with sweat, whisker plastered to his forehead, his chest heaving bosom hard and pink, tummy fluttering. Legs spread, human foot knack, toes curled. I ate the apple and studied his sleek rollicking immature body. This was going to be very, very good. This boy whose name I did not know whose language I did not speak, this healthy, formula, athletic, teenage boy was about to get fucked in the ass.

He was about to have a hard peter shoved up between his young ass baseball glove, into his fast virtuous rectum an act from which he would never recover, an worked up and mental wound that would never heal. He was about to be fucked like a girl like a twat. He was about to be used like a cunt. He knew it. I could see in his oculus that he knew it and there was n't a jazz thing he could do about it. Clack ! Clack, clap, clack, clack, clack valve.

END