The following post is part of a thread following Kamal, a faggot who has a desire to serve his Alpha professor uncle Farid.CLICK HERE to read all of these posts in chronological order!
When Kamal first wrote to me a couple of days ago, his expressed desire to serve his Alpha uncle Farid seemed difficult. Yes, his uncle is a professor of gender studies, and yes, his uncle has been talking to Kamal about hierarchy. It still seemed to be a difficult conversation. I answered him honestly, and gave him my advice. You can read that first QFR by CLICKING HERE.
Now, very often I advise people and they don’t take action. Of course, I can’t make anybody do what they’re unable to or unwilling to do. But there is only one thing is true: anyone who is unwilling to play the game will never, ever have a chance to win.
That is why I rejoiced when I received this inspirational update from Kamal:
Dear Sam,
Your words have been a quiet compass for me. I planned to write explaining why taking on household chores isn’t straightforward—his wife would notice the shift, and she already doesn’t like me much. Besides, between classes and varsity practice, I’m rarely home when she does them—but I’ve offered to help her and maybe i can slowly take over the tasks that relate to my uncle. I want to serve him. I want to be the one who meets his needs. But that’s not why I’m writing tonight.
Masculinity has always been a quiet puzzle for me. Outwardly, I fit the part: my posture, my voice, the way people read me. But inwardly, something else stirs. It’s when I imagine being taken by a man like my uncle that everything clarifies. More than anything, I want to serve someone I deeply respect and admire. Someone whose strength—steady, unyielding, effortless—makes me want to kneel. To show him how much I want him. To let him know, without doubt, that he owns me. That his pleasure is my purpose, and being used exactly as he desires is my calling. And because it’s my uncle who has awakened this in me, he’s the only one who can fill the hollow ache inside me. The one who can finally make me who i am.
In my heart I believe this confusion only ends when he takes me for his own. When he pushes deep enough that I stop being the man I thought I was—the one who hides behind a hard shell—and finally become what I’m meant to be. I need him to split my core open, peel away the disguise I’ve worn for years, and set who I truly am free for him to see. Buoyed by your words, today I decided to stop hiding. To “man up” one last time and tell him everything and be done hiding.
It went… I don’t really know how. I found him in his study, lost in a book. When I asked to speak with him seriously, he set it down and gestured to the couch. But instead of sitting across from him, I stepped close, dropped to my knees between his spread legs, and looked up into his eyes. He blinked, surprised. I told him everything—how long I’d waited, how deeply I wanted him, how his strength pulled at something in me I couldn’t name. I held his gaze the whole time, even as my voice trembled. When I finished, the weight of it hit me all at once. My chest shook. I looked down, and tears spilled over before I could stop them.
His hand found my head and he tilted it up until i was facing him. But I couldn’t look at him so I don’t know what he saw. He spoke in that low, steady voice I know means business: “This is true?” I actually don’t remember if it was a question or a statement. All I could do was say yes and that I’d never lie to him.
There was a long enough silence that I risked a glance at his face. His eyes locked onto mine, and something in them shifted—darkened, softened, or maybe both. He exhaled slowly. “I need some time alone with this, Kamal. I’m glad you told me. Don’t cry.” His thumb brushed away a tear, and I stood and left him there.
Now I’m waiting. My pulse won’t settle and I jump at every door opening, phone chiming. I can’t wait till he gets home tonight and it’s the thing I’m most afraid of at the same time. I don’t know what will happen, but I’ll tell you when I know.
Thank you for helping me.
HOORAY!!!
Kamal took action almost immediately, and was able to FINALLY express the feelings that had been tormenting him! And Sir Farid’s response was quite positive (others may read it differently), showing tenderness and empathy to his faggot nephew while also metering his response so as to not over-react! That is what true leaders do! I’m incredibly impressed by Sir Farid’s powerful example!
But I’m beyond proud of my brother Kamal! What he did took a lot of courage, strength, and humility! He opened his heart and offered himself with trust to the one Alpha in his life!
Why can’t more faggots do this? What stops them from trusting that superior Men would react in superior ways??
I can’t wait to find out the resolution to this situation!
Lately, I have been drawn more and more to destructive practices–financially, physically, and mentally. I have sought out crueler and more abusive alphas. I both crave and fear destruction. I know I should avoid it, but at times it is an overwhelming need, and only severe pain and humiliation can at least temporarily satisfy this need. And then I feel guilty for being such a weak faggot that I have these needs.
It sounds silly, but do you have any advice on how to pursue destruction safely?
Thank you,
fagjohn
Brother, thank you for writing!
I’ve never fully understood the faggot need/desire to be destroyed by Alphas. I think it stems from low self-esteem or some overriding shame, but it might be more complex than that. I don’t relate to that kind of extreme.
However, all faggots want to feel powerless and controlled. We want to surrender ourselves to the will of a superior Man and obey him. I think the destruction impulse is like a wild weed that grows like an offshoot from this natural desire of all fags.
But your desire to find “safe destruction” is pretty goofy, and basically impossible to find. It’s an oxymoron, right? It’s like asking for safe, medicinal doses of cyanide.
You need to meditate on why you’re wanting to have your life destroyed, brother. You’re worth more than that. I hope you realize it before it’s too late. I might suggest seeking a therapist for some concentrated work on isolating and eliminating such an impulse.
The following post is part of a thread chronicling the service of a Brazilian faggot named Marcus who was first enslaved by a 14-year-old straight Alpha named Lion, and it continues years later!CLICK HERE to read all of these posts in chronological order!
The other day I published a pretty alarming story of fag Marcus being used abusively by his 14-year-old Master, Alpha Lion, and Master Lion’s 18-year-old Alpha cousin. Some of the details on that weekend were grim enough to be dangerous.
But more interesting than that was what we learned about Master Lion. Despite his young age, he seemed to effortlessly command people older than him without a second thought. He proved to be bold and decisive, and everyone around him obeyed without question. Did I mention that Master Lion is just FOURTEEN?? Oh yeah, I did. Well, 14-year-olds that have that degree of dominance have nothing in their way to becoming a God Alpha with unlimited power and wealth in their future.
I thought the account Marcos sent was quite enough, but there’s a second part to the story that’s even wilder than the first! Read it:
Hi, Sam.
Thanks for the valuable advice you gave me. I confess I was already doing exactly what you said (staying silent and waiting) even before reading your post, because the events of that first night—which I described in my last post—and what followed (which I’m sharing today; I wrote it all at once but it got too long, so I split it up) made me realize something different was going on with my Master.
Picking up where I left off: after the girls stated they were at Yuri’s (a pseudonym) disposal, he and the Master sat down. One of the girls put on some stripper music and they began to undress. From where I was standing, I could see the two Alphas looking relaxed; one girl danced on the table while the others waited, sitting on the floor nearby. When they finished undressing, they’d sit next to the men, who would casually drape their arms around them and grab their breasts. Only when they were all naked did the cousin ask how they would split the girls up. The Master replied, “Why split them up?” noting that they were all at the cousin’s disposal—he should just pick the two he wanted and rotate between them throughout the night. The cousin asked which one was the best, and the Master replied that he had chosen his best-behaved girls and they were all good enough, though each had a specific strength. He pointed them out: “This one gives the best blowjob, this one has a super-wet pussy, this one has a tight, gripping ass, and this one can handle really rough fucking.” The cousin then said he wanted the one with the best ass, since his girlfriend is religious and won’t do anal. The Master told him not to worry about that, as they had all been instructed to do *everything* he ordered, so he’d have four tight little asses to have fun with. The Master stripped off his clothes, took the his girls to his armchair, and had them suck him off while he watched his cousin. The cousin ordered them to undress him, and one of the girls made the mistake of dropping his belt buckle on the floor. He gave her a sharp slap on the head and told her to show more respect for his buckle (in the days that followed, I saw that he was really into the whole cowboy thing). He pulled the other girl onto his lap to kiss her and left the one who had messed up on the floor, having her take off his clothes and fold them. When she removed his underwear, what stood out most wasn’t his penis—which was the same size as the Master’s, just a bit thinner—but the massive amount of body hair. Because of the heat here in Rio, the Master would sometimes trim his hair a little, but the cousin clearly had never done anything of the sort; he was *incredibly* hairy. If his penis had been small, it might have gotten lost in there. Once he was completely naked, he sat down and ordered the two girls to lick him. They approached but then hesitated and pulled back; looking at the Master, he said:
“Didn’t you say they’d do whatever I wanted?”
The Master looked at the girls and said:
“They will.”
He looked at the girls and shouted, “Get to it, goddammit!”
It actually startled me, since the Master doesn’t usually shout. The girls did too; they quickly obeyed the order, though they didn’t look too happy about it (that’s when I remembered cousin saying he hadn’t had a decent shower in four days—and with that much body hair, he probably didn’t smell too pleasant, at least not to women).
The two men then put their arms behind their heads and started chatting about past hookups, parties, and personal memories, while the four girls sucked their huge cocks.
After a while, the Master ordered me to get some beers, and I rushed to do it as subserviently as possible to please him. When I handed over the beers, the cousin asked if I was just going to stand there watching them fuck. The Master then ordered me back to the corner to face the wall. I could only hear everyone moaning, unless I was called to fetch cigarettes (for the cousin) or beer, at which point I could catch a quick glimpse of what they were doing. I realized then that an alpha competition was playing out: whenever the Master stepped on a girl’s head, the cousin did the same; when one fucked their throats, the other did too; and even when the Master fucked one girl while having another lick his ass, the cousin followed suit.
At one point, when I brought several sandwiches for the two of them, I realized I hadn’t eaten since waking up—having had to prepare the Master’s coffee and the banquet before heading to the airport. I asked the Master if I could step away to eat something, but, fueled by that competitive adrenaline, he just looked at the cousin, told me to shut my mouth, and ordered me back to the corner. It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth time after that that he asked if my stomach was still empty; he smiled arrogantly at the cousin and said to me:
“Come fill it up, then, faggot.”
He made me kneel and pissed liters of beer into my mouth.
I went back to the corner, facing the wall, and could… feeling my stomach heavy and letting out small burps that smelled like piss, which I quickly swallowed so as not to making noise and disturbing the Master.
After about two hours, the Master called me over again and asked if my stomach had emptied. Afraid he might order me to drink the cousin’s piss, I said no; however, he told me that his bladder was full of piss again regardless. So, obediently, I bent down to drink a second cascade of urine. All the while he was pissing into my mouth, he kept looking at the cousin with a smug expression.
Afterward, he dismissed me, telling me to go eat and also feed his fiancée in her room. Then, I was to fold and put away the cousin’s things and go to sleep.
It wasn’t until morning that I was woken by a blow to the face; when I looked up, it was the cousin who had struck me with the sole of his foot. He asked if I thought it was right for him to sleep on the same level as a slave and hauled me onto the floor. The Master stood in the doorway watching as the cousin shoved me under his bed—alongside boxes, his shoes, and a blue suitcase full of dirty laundry—and ordered one of the girls to spread some blankets from the bed down to the floor.
And so, I slept for a while longer, “trapped” in a makeshift, stinking hovel.
It might seem like a miserable life and that the two of them are terrible people, but today—while I was waiting for them outside a party to act as their driver and take them to some lucky girl’s house—I was writing this message to you. The Master appeared and asked what I was doing. I showed it to him; at first, he was quite angry that I was writing about him without permission and started scolding me, saying he would punish me. But after reading how I write about him with such reverence, and seeing how respectful you were, he decided I could keep messaging you. He also explained to me that neither you nor I—since we aren’t “real men”—know anything about cars, and that I was never in serious danger because his car (a BMW X3) has an air passage between the cabin and the trunk, which he made sure to keep open. He would never allow anyone to cause me fatal harm (bearing in mind that he literally saved my life) or permanent injury, as I am one of his most prized possessions (I took that as a declaration of love).
He told me that he and his cousin have competed since childhood over who plays better, who climbs the highest tree, who crosses the river first, and so on. He said I might have to suffer a bit more than the usual faggot while he’s here, but that whenever I suffer in silence and keep obeying, it shows his cousin just what a powerful man the Master is. So, I have to get used to it and view it as a form of devotion to him.
I don’t know when I’ll be able to write to you again, as the coming days will be tough, but I’ll be back soon to talk more with my friend and mentor, faggot Sam.
Fag Marcus.
This is pretty incredible. Let me remind you that Marcus’s straight Master Lion is FOURTEEN and his straight cousin is EIGHTEEN, and yet already they understand hierarchy better than Men three times their age! Like I’ve said again and again, Alphas are BORN. This isn’t some learned course of life … they have NEEDS to dominate and be worshiped/served by inferiors!
Marcus does such a great job serving Master Lion. I’m so impressed by how well he handles every twisted and sadistic turn his young Master throws at him! I mean, he drank piss on command twice without being anywhere near prepared for it! He worked hard during a long night of being used! It’s not always easy to be an owned faggot!
I was overjoyed when Marcus told me about being discovered writing to me, and that Master Lion read and approved of my documenting this situation! I always like for the Masters of the faggots who write to me to know their faggots are doing it, because this can lead to greater education in hierarchical truth.
I loved the detail that Master Lion and his cousin have always competitively fought all of their lives. Marcus correctly identified it as Alpha dominance battles. Alphas always play “King of the hill” games because that dominance born within them drives them to conquer from an early age. Now, there might not be much of a difference between a 14-year-old and an 18-year-old, but there certainly is when they’re four and eight, right? Yet Master Lion was fighting for dominance even then … and winning!
Master Lion is clearly an unstoppable force, a God Alpha who probably deserves to own a mansion with ten faggots worshiping and serving as in-house slaves. He’s that type of Alpha, the legendary ones who inspire legions of faggots to instantly submit and countless women to beg for breeding. His is a blessed life, and we are fortunate to be getting a first glimpse of his glory rising over the land. His land.
Thank you, Marcus, for sharing your experiences of service to this once-in-a-generation King!
Titouan wanted to share this longer video of a recent spanking video I shared here. I believe it’s better because we feel the relationship between the Master and the fag.
The following post is part of a thread chronicling the development of a married beta-sub named Pete who was raised hierarchically by his Alpha father and grandfather, and is submissive to this three sons.CLICK HERE to read all of these posts in chronological order!
The story of beta-sub/faggot Pete and his relationships with his God Alpha father and his three Alpha sons continues to get crazier and more complex with every update. There are so many intricate co-minglings (literally) within the family’s emotional architecture that I occasionally stop and ponder over how it got this way.
My answer typically comes down to this: Master Doug, Pete’s God Alpha father, enforced a joyful celebration of masculine hierarchy all of their lives, and this is the end result of it. Pete’s family loves Manhood and the power that imbues in them. It’s just a great thing that Pete’s three sons have all turned out to be Alpha and can benefit from the teachings of Master Doug while also practicing on their faggot father!
Pete wrote a bit more about the family after my last post and my commentary possibly rattled him. I didn’t mean to sound critical or concerned about the situation. It’s simply not something I’ve seen a lot of in my time with this site (God Alpha Dino’s family notwithstanding).
Here’s Pete’s update:
A few thoughts and updates.
Danny, the youngest just turned 14. The other two have birthdays in August.
Danny is still a little horn dog, but he is learning control, leadership, responsibility. The summer has been full of baseball and football camps.
All three are team leaders.
One of Danny’s coaches told me what a fine man Danny is. A real leader (let again a great player.)
The older two were always going to do great. Danny was looking to be a wild boy and a difficult teen – but he’s learned to know his place, how to channel his energy, how to treat others. He does it as an alpha male. The same coach said that it was so great allowing Danny to grow into his dominance. Coach is a friend of my dad’s.
Sex around the house is not all that often really. The two oldest boys are driving, middle boy only has his permit and will get his license in a couple of weeks. They spend time with their friends and various girlfriends. Good guys.
Danny spends more time naked than anyone. His friends come over and strip down, too. Playing in the pool, gaming. Their folks, especially their fathers are fine with it. Boys, guys, men will be naked.
Danny jacks off more than anything else sexual.
I’m still Dad, and if anything the boys are more affectionate. It is an affection that a guy has with a friend lower on the pecking order. There hands are always on my shoulders, often with their hands on my head, often fingering my hair. I’m Dad that drives them around, doles out cash. But my oldest will tell me to wash his car, and I do. Often they will tell me strip down and stay naked, e.g. when I’m home from work, errands, shopping, gym. Dick and ass get pats. Hair gets ruffled. Very affectionate and very much comfortably exerting their dominance and the pecking order.
I don’t mind. I enjoy it. A lot.
Fag. Faggot. I guess I am, though I am not sure what it means in my circumstances. I’m definitely male and generally a guy. Easy going, but that does lead into submissiveness with other men, such as at the gym, etc.
My dad was telling me how he didn’t get the whole chastity thing, or guys being covered with jocks when being fucked. He said that a part of being a strong man is dominating and controlling and fucking other men – and he wants to see that it is a man that he is topping and bettering. He also said how he likes looking at the men he’s fucking having their dicks go soft and get smaller. He doesn’t allow his fuckboys to touch their dicks. He likes to see handsfree orgasms and ejaculations.
Also, my fuckbuddies, my friends, all comment how when fucking with other guys that they have no problem with e.d. or getting wiped out until they cum a few times. None have much sex with their wives. We all like the sweaty, physical, athletic man with man sex. We’ve also started making-out when we’re together. We didn’t use to, at all. Men kiss and make-out completely differently than we do with women. Rougher, more fun. (Never done it with my boys! Ugh. Gross.) My dad wants to make-out when he is building up to pounding.
I love the details about how Pete’s sons treat him! It’s affection, certainly, but tinged with unmistakable dominance. The boys are lion cubs learning to kill, and using their father as the prey.
I’m really curious about Master Doug’s strong dislike of chastity or jockstraps for his faggots. I guess some Alphas love to see the difference between a Man (him) and a failed male. Humiliation is one of an Alpha’s favorite weapons, and I’m sure Master Doug wields it well!
Also, the idea of making out with my Dad turns my stomach!
Pete’s final paragraph is a ringing endorsement of Man-on-Man sex. It’s an interesting point. Men love to be with other Men, and they’re often invigorated by the experience of bonding. Sex between Men is definitely rougher and more adrenaline-fueled. I know I’ve only ever felt more alive after being fucked.
In all, I think Pete cleared up some of my misconceptions and helped me appreciate that the boys are growing up more naturally than I initially believed. It’ll be interesting to see if all or any of them claim faggots of their own as they grow!
They probably won’t find one as good as their Dad!
Hello. Hope you’re doing well. I live in Lebanon, Beirut and I’m a closeted faggot. In my situation where being a faggot is not acceptable in society how can I find my alpha to serve because it’s hard approaching random men in countries like these. I’ve only served online & sucked a cock or two (escorts). I’d like you to listen to your advice for someone like me. Thanks!
Thank you for writing, brother!
I get a fair number of letters from the Middle East, and my advice is usually the same: try to find a way to leave the Middle East. It’s way too risky trying to find an Alpha to serve there, even in the countries that are a bit more lenient (like Lebanon).
How might you do that? If you don’t have a highly-prized skill (like in medical or IT) or you’re not in college (which could get you sponsorship), then I suggest applying for asylum. Try to get to the embassy of a gay-friendly country (Canada and Australia, for example) and apply for asylum.
When I rescued Baby Boy from Syria in 2017, I managed to get him across the border into Lebanon, then flew him to Malaysia where I his him for two years until we got Australia to take him in. It’s definitely possible, and we did it without any clear plan and few resources. You can, too.
