My lifetime spent in service to Alphas has largely made the possibility of being in love an impossibility. I’ve certainly been in love with a couple of my Masters, straight Alphas who could never fully return my love. And I’ve had people in love with me, mostly girls to whom I could never return affection.
Thirty years of service to Men have passed since my heart first opened like a hopeful flower in my foolish youth. They have been years filled with the wonders of discovery, of purpose and discipline. Yet they remain like cold stone sculptures in the statuary garden of my life.
But occasionally my subconscious allows a sunrise of a dream of love to warm the concrete and grow the smothering ivy choking it.
A dream of being in love, it happened last night. I want to share it with you.
I was a proper English lad in the early 20th century, maybe between the World Wars. Like all proper boys of that time, I was dapper in my crisp white shirt, black tie, and black wool slacks.
Matching me almost exactly in dress was my Alpha, William. Ah, William! He of the chiseled jaw, the confident smile, the jet black hair slicked back, his sharp, dark eyes peering like an animal from beneath his low, shadowy brow.
We were on the third floor of a cavernous English mansion, seemingly alone and safe. William sat confidently on a tall bannister that stood guard against a precipitous drop to the ballroom floor below. And I was between his legs, my head in his lap.
His large, heavy hand gently stroked my head. I’d never felt such a breathless peace before. It was like being a boy at home, wrapped in a favorite blanket while held by Mom … except there was a sort of electrical excitement quivering beneath the surface. The whole world felt alive in that moment, simultaneously infinite and intimate, and endlessly possible.
William began humming, just random notes I think, but in them I heard a song.
Excitement overwhelmed me and I popped up with a huge, child-like grin, and kissed his surprised face right on his cheek. I began spinning in a dance across the dark hardwood floor, singing the lyrics to William’s tune as they arose from my heart.
With our love in bloom,
I’m singing a tune,
That could lead careless lovers off a cliff,
And if that bloom had a scent,
Of poisoned intent,
You’ll forgive me for taking a whiff.
My dance took to a third-floor balcony overlooking a stately garden courtyard. Encircling the rear of the house were a series of closely-arranged marble columns three stories high.
In my pure, fearless joy I leaped from the balcony to land precisely on the top of the nearest column. As William protested, I jumped again to the next column, except this one was covered in vines and topped with moss. I slipped slightly, and I nearly plunged to my death.
I lowered myself and laid on my stomach on top of the column, fear gripping me as I breathlessly gazed at the concrete below.
“Are you alright?” asked William. He had leaped right to me and was standing over me. I looked up and saw his shiny black dress shoe near my face.
My William is here to rescue me! Foolish me! I thought. I instantly felt completely safe … and completely ashamed.
I carefully crawled on my belly until I could properly reach his feet, and then I tenderly kissed his shoe with all of the gratitude I could express.
“Good boy,” said William. “Good boy.”
And then I woke up.
I’m not sure why I felt the need to share this with you all. Partly it’s for the sake of my own memory, since I don’t want to lose William’s nonexistent love.
But maybe I want to share it as a kind of warning. Being a faggot and living it properly can sometimes be like trying to find the treat in a maze that has no treats and all dead ends.
That sounds more hopeless than I intended, but it’s true. We are born to a life of service to Alphas who can love us like a favorite dog (which is itself a powerful love), but it’s not like being in love.
Our Masters will most likely never be in love with us. We were born disposable, stamped with an invisible sell-by date. Every dismissal, every passing year, every new wrinkle … they all add to the weight of that eventual reality.
I’m proud to be a faggot. I’m not sad about the purpose selected for me, nor regret my enthusiastic fulfillment of that purpose.
But aside from Baby Boy, I’ve never known truly reciprocal love in my adult life.
Except when my mind, in a flash of merciful sunlight, allows me a moment to dance in it.
The United States has fallen under the control of a dictator, a golden-plated despot who fancies himself to be a King.
The United States has no King. The country was born through a bloody rebellion against such a King. Men stood up, fought, and died to make that a reality.
Now a fat, embarrassing, loathsome, self-centered pig who MOCKS the sacrifice of those courageous Men wants to make America his personal Kingdom and piggy bank. He’s terrorizing cities across the country, rounding up immigrants and citizens alike with horrifying assaults by masked Secret Police the way they do in the dictatorships in other countries we once despised.
This weekend, a large swarm of American citizens will stand up and say “NO.”
It’s called the “No Kings March” (not the “Hate America March” as Republican accomplices have dubbed it).
I think most faggots have a story about being bullied. My first real bully in junior high and early high school was this really sadistic kid named Matt who hit me in the head almost every day for two years, used me for my homework, etc. Standard stuff.
Then around age 16 I met my first Alpha, a sexy rebel named Roger who bullied me for most of one year. He called me “faggot” constantly, wrestled me into submission holds, and degraded me in front of others for being puny.
And then one night in his mother’s basement he decided to push me to my knees and throat fuck me, and my life changed forever.
It took many years of serving straight Alphas (and occasionally being bullied by them) to really appreciate the Hierarchical purpose of bullying. While being bullied can be quite upsetting or even traumatic, it’s important to understand its function and importance among Men. It’s really summed up well in that meme I posted above.
But what is it teaching?
I had posted that meme on my social media, and one faggot brother was triggered enough by it to write about his own experiences with it.
Hey Sam, what’s up? I’ve been very busy lately, I can barely check Twitter these past few weeks, but that post of yours with a picture saying “it’s not bullying… It’s teaching” resonated SO HARD on me that I felt like I needed to find some spare time to write you this.
Looking back at our times at school makes us realize that statement is SO TRUE and, I don’t know about you, but I wish I had seen it this way back then. It would had save me a lot of turmoils in my head and made feel way less embarrassed by the things my bullies used to make me do.
I was a teenager, had just moved to a private school (I used to study in public schools up until then) and it was a very different crowd. You’d think that I’d face a harsher environment at a public school, but it was actually pretty chill, no crazy stuff, everyone getting along well… But at this private school it was a whole complete different scenario. I don’t know what it was: wealthier kids, different types of families they were in or that there was a bigger age gap among the students of my class – 2 to 3 years of difference is a huge thing when we’re at school.
But there were these two boys who were, I think, 2 years older than me. Mostly all of the boys in my class were very cocky, but these two were another level! I’ll never forget their names: Thiago and Douglas. I still remember their last names, actually. They were the leaders of the class, very attractive guys – Thiago was blonde and tall, Douglas was shorter and brunette but a bit bulkier than Thiago, who was more lean – the girls would fight for them and they would get whatever they wanted… And were pretty blunt about it. They were also very sexualized, so to speak. I bet they had already had sex, and I don’t know if it was a mix of their cockiness with the teenage hormones, but they would do crazy things like show their bulges in class, get up on the desk when a teacher wasn’t looking at us and put their pants down or call the attention to someone during class just to see the tent their boners made in their pants. They literally didn’t give a fuck. Yeah, they would get caught sometimes, but it never stopped them from doing those things.
I didn’t know I was a fag then. I didn’t know I was gay. I actually didn’t even know what “gay” was (I’m talking about early 2000’s, very little access to internet and porn just from magazines and old VHS tapes from my older straight brother). I realized I was different from them when I would jerk off and instead of thinking of me fucking a girl, it was Thiago or Douglas banging a girl. And then I’d think of them way more in those scenarios in my head to the point the girl in my fantasies would become just a small detail. I think that’s when I started to show more how I was sort of mesmerized by them and they eventually picked it up. All those playful displays of manhood they did started to get more and more targeted at me and they would laugh at my awkward responses.
The locker room after PE was TORTURE to me. I always tried to be the last one to get in there to change, and I remember one day I got to the locker room, took off my gym clothes, put them on a bench so I could change… but couldn’t find my uniform anywhere. There weren’t any actual lockers there, just cubby-holes where we would keep our regular uniforms. Thiago came out of a booth and took my gym clothes from the bench and ran out the locker room, leaving me there alone in my underwear. 10 minutes away from another class to start their PE class. I must have freaked out for a minute – that felt like an hour – when Douglas came in with my uniform in a bag asking if I had missed something. I asked for my clothes and he said he would only give them back to me if I did 20 jumping jacks – remember, I was in my underwear, and I’ve always been fat. I tried to negotiate but he was firm on his request and started walking out of the locker room with my clothes saying “the guys from the other class are gonna love finding you here like this, it’s up to you” and I said ok. I started doing the jumping jacks but he interrupted me and said that since I didn’t obey him at first I would have to chant “Douglas is my king” on every jumping jack. And so I did. And he laughed his ass off. He eventually gave me my uniform back and left the locker room saying “Thiago is gonna give back your gym clothes at dismissal… He’s gonna love hearing about this!”
Sam, that’s the day I became the official target of those two bullies. They never used me sexually all the way… It was mostly hand jobs (sometimes during class as I would write THEIR notes on THEIR notebooks with the other hand before I could do my notes – they would cover up all the action with a coat, a backpack or something on their laps) and occasional blowjobs here and there. I was so ashamed, Sam. But deep down I was enjoying all of this, I was just… Lost. It was embarrassing, but also good; it made me feel scared they would tell other guys (which they did) and I’d get a bad reputation (which I didn’t) so I’d do whatever demeaning thing they tell me… but I was also kinda liking that.
In retrospect it was some sort of training what they did to me. And that’s why that statement from that post is SO TRUE. If only I could talk to my younger self and say “don’t worry, don’t feel bad about it. They know what they’re doing. Just embrace it and you’ll be thankful later”… I still think about them from time to time. All the things that could had happened but didn’t because I was afraid/scared back then. But now I’m actually thankful for what they did. I wish I could thank them now for how they treated me at school.
This brother’s story is eloquently told and so full of heartache and longing, isn’t it?
He isolates the important aspect of bullying: it is used in not-so-subtle ways to establish Hierarchical order. Through bullying the Alpha boys quickly isolate the weaker and the submissive males, but that’s not enough. The bullying REINFORCES the status of these inferiors, so those bullied ones never question their place ever again.
As this brother confesses, the bullying not only works, but it also has deeper effects on those faggots who are bullied. Much like rape, bullied faggots develop a Stockholm Syndrome-like attachment to their bullies. I know I have that with Matt; I’d love to see him at a reunion and thank him for preparing me for a life of service to Men. Our brother feels the same about his bullies.
Like my position on rape, I’m not condoning bullying. Still, bullying is an essential tool that defines males at every level of Hierarchy. Armed with that understanding, we can move beyond any of our suffering and appreciate what it taught us about our own truth!
As a way to come to grips with my bully, I fished out one of my yearbooks and looked up Matt from eighth grade. Here he is:
The oldest religious book in existence is the Bible. It’s also the most widely-distributed book in history. The Bible forms the foundation for all three of the major religions on Earth: Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.
So given its deep roots in human civilization, it would stand to reason that the Bible would contain principles of Hierarchy. And indeed, it does!
So I wanted to look at a few key Scriptures that highlight these principles, and afterward I’ll reveal WHY I’m examining this.
PRINCIPLE #1: MAN RULES ALL
From the beginning of the Bible it is established that God created Man to be the ruler of the physical planet Earth.
Then God said: “Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness, and let them have in subjection the fish of the sea and the flying creatures of the heavens and the domestic animals and all the earth and every creeping animal that is moving on the earth.” (Genesis 1:26)
And Men were to rule over women.
To the woman he said: “I will greatly increase the pain of your pregnancy; in pain you will give birth to children, and your longing will be for your husband, and he will dominate you.” (Genesis 3:16)
But I want you to know that the head of every man is the Christ; in turn, the head of a woman is the man; in turn, the head of the Christ is God. (1 Corinthians 11:3)
PRINCIPLE #2: MALE LIFE IS DETERMINED THROUGH DOMINANCE
The Bible clearly describes the constant fight for dominance between Men. This Hierarchical principle is highlighted from the moment Cain, the second son of Adam and Eve, murdered his older brother Abel in a jealous rage.
The Bible also charts the rise of slavery in the human family, most notably the Israelite enslavement by the Egyptians for 400 years. By this time many civilizations had arisen, all built with a slave labor force. So began the idea of a ruler and his slaves.
The Bible is quick to establish something of a disdain for such a thing, but notes it is a reality among Men:
All of this I have seen, and I applied my heart to every work that has been done under the sun, during the time that man has dominated man to his harm. (Eccl. 8:9)
PRINCIPLE #3: FAGGOTS HAVE ALWAYS EXISTED AND HAVE PURPOSE
While the Bible is very clearly against gay sex, the idea of sexless male slaves owned by Men is not only in the Bible, but are even described by Jesus. He uses the word “eunuch”, which is a sexless, castrated (failed) male that often were used as slaves for courtly females.
But notice how Jesus describes them:
For there are eunuchs who were born that way, and there are eunuchs who were made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs on account of the Kingdom of the heavens. (Matthew 19:12)
The “eunuchs who were made eunuchs by Men” were likely surgically altered, but not dissimilar to the faggots today who are caged by their Owners.
These eunuchs of the Bible were often held in high regard for their respectful service to their superiors. One of note was Ebedmelech, an Ethiopian eunuch who rescued the prophet Jeremiah from drowning in a cistern (well) by respectfully requesting the King’s permission to pull him out.
PRINCIPLE #4: MEN OWNING MALE SLAVES FOR LIFE IS NATURAL
Today it seems extreme that a Man might own willing male slaves (or faggots), but the principle for this is laid out explicitly in the Mosaic Law, the massive code of laws and statutes given to the prophet Moses by God Himself.
This is the most startling (and most heartwarming) of those passages:
“If one of your brothers, a Hebrew man or woman, is sold to you and has served you for six years, then in the seventh year you should set him free … But if he says to you, ‘I will not go out from your company!’ because he loves you and your household, since he has been happy while with you, you should then take an awl and put it through his ear into the door, and he will become your slave for life.” (Deuteronomy 15: 12, 16-17)
But if the slave should insist and say, ‘I love my master, my wife, and my sons; I do not want to be set free,’ his master must bring him before the true God. Then he will bring him up against the door or the doorpost, and his master will pierce his ear through with an awl, and he will be his slave for life. (Exodus 21: 5,6)
PRINCIPLE #5: ALPHAS ARE REAL AND BLESSED BY GOD
Again and again through out the Bible we find Men doing extraordinary and mighty acts with God’s help. These powerful Alphas were used by God to lead vast armies, conquer seemingly-unconquerable enemies, and protect the innocent.
Mighty Men like Samson and his famous strength brought down an arena full of Philistines, killing them all. Others like Moses (described as a “beautiful baby” in infancy) boldly confronted the ruler of the world at that time, Pharoah of Egypt, and led a massive army of over one million Israelites out of slavery and to the Promised Land (interesting to note that, even at the age of 120 years, Moses was still vital and going strong when God buried him!).
Arguably the greatest Alpha in the Bible (aside from Jesus, of course) was King David. He was but a shepherd boy when God chose him to succeed another powerful-but-disturbed Alpha named King Saul. Notice how David is described as he was being chosen:
Finally Samuel said to Jesʹse: “Are these all of your boys?” To this he said: “The youngest+ has been left out until now; he is pasturing the sheep.” Then Samuel said to Jesʹse: “Send for him, because we will not sit down for the meal until he comes here.” So he sent for him and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, with beautiful eyes, and handsome in appearance. Then Jehovah said: “Get up, anoint him, for this is the one!” (1 Samuel 16: 11,12)
David’s physical perfection and great skill was also noted by another:
One of the attendants said: “Look! I have seen how a son of Jesʹse the Bethʹle·hem·ite plays skillfully, and he is a courageous, mighty warrior. He can speak well, and he is handsome, and Jehovah is with him.” (1 Samuel 16: 18)
It is important to remember that these great Alphas of the Bible who were supported by God in their lives also demonstrated great humility despite their incredible power and favored positions. These ones were the Protector Alphas I speak of so highly here. Jesus was inarguably the greatest Alpha to ever walk the Earth, and he demonstrated humility in deed as well as word when he washed the feet of his Apostles on his final night.
Therefore, if I, the Lord and Teacher, washed your feet, you also should wash the feet of one another. For I set the pattern for you, that just as I did to you, you should also do. (John 13: 14,15)
A stunning example for all Alphas to consider! Not to say an Alpha should wash the feet of their faggots, but to have the correct mindset!
PRINCIPLE #5: DESTROYER ALPHAS EXIST
Alphas most often come in the form of larger-than-average Men with extraordinary strength, endurance, and power. Did you realize that the Bible repeatedly describes such Men … and also how they often used their power for evil purposes?
Genesis 10:9 describes Nimrod as a “mighty hunter in opposition to Jehovah God”! Nimrod was likely a descendent from the Nephilim (which means “fellers of Men”), a mutant class of giant Men created when angels came to Earth and had sex with females. These Nephilim and the havoc they caused turned the world into such a violent place that God chose to flood the Earth and destroy them all.
There are almost too many examples of Destroyer Alphas in the Bible to cover, but one that stands out to me is King Saul, the first King of Israel. The Bible describes Saul this way:
He had a son named Saul, who was young and handsome—there was no man among the Israelites more handsome than he—and he stood head and shoulders taller than all the people. (1 Samuel 9: 2)
But after Saul became King, he disobeyed God repeatedly, forcing God to remove him from his Kingship and replacing him with King David. After that, Saul repeatedly tried to murder David and eventually created a division in the new nation of Israel.
CONCLUSION
So why did I want to examine the Biblical evidence for Hierarchical principles?
Many people believe what is taught here or elsewhere about Hierarchy has no moral basis or any larger aspirations. That’s simply not true. What is taught here is the truth of the world we see today, the direct result of the choices and actions of Men throughout many generations. The Bible is an early document of those past lives, both good and bad.
Even if you don’t believe the Bible is true or accurate, you can still glean Hierarchical principles from it (as I’ve shown). Even if it is not true (though I believe it is), it contains accurate representations of Alpha/beta/faggot behaviors in the lives it describes, and the principles by which they lived and died.
Of all of many so-called “holy books” available today, only the Bible provides realistic examples of lives and choices to follow or reject. In its pages we find many people who, like us, were caught in the everlasting cycle of Hierarchical truth. How they fared can teach us much about how we might as well.
I’m not trying to preach to anyone. I’m certainly nobody but a seeker of truth just like you.
This is what I’ve found, and like the stones, I cannot keep silent.
“Then Jesus said to him: ‘Return your sword to its place, for all those who take up the sword will perish by the sword.’”
(Matthew 26: 52)
I don’t have any sorrow about the death of right-wing hate monger Charlie Kirk. I’m not rejoicing, either.
He spewed nothing but arrogant right wing propaganda, marginalizing anyone who doesn’t fit his white, “Christian” nationalist agenda and was eagerly endorsing the removal of protections for vulnerable minorities.
Hi Sam. I hope all is well. Long-time fan of your work, we’re talking since the early days of FWA on Tumblr! I was generally following you on Twitter the last year or so, but after a bit of a Twitter detox I was very disappointed to come back and see your page has gone. What happened?
As usual, I was cancelled because my message is too incendiary and rattles too many cages. I’m also getting cancelled for my prolific and unrepentant use of the word “faggot” (which I do try to alter to disguise it, but still). The “LINKS” page on this site is up-to-date on everywhere I can be found on social media at the moment.
It can be a lonely and sometimes dispiriting thing to crank out the sheer volume of content I do, advising people behind the scenes, and generally trying to be everywhere all at once while pushing the truth about Hierarchy as hard as I can into the mainstream. I’m just one faggot, after all!
Added to that are the constant setbacks. I’ve had the winds taken out of my sails again recently with the loss of two big X accounts, accounts that many Masters were using to train their faggots. I take all of that very seriously – it’s an important responsibility – so I’d be lying if those setbacks don’t make me just want to close up shop and move on. I’ve made a contribution to the truth, did my best to carry myself with some amount of integrity, and I’m proud of my work and the relationships I’ve gained.
Of all the arms of Hierarchy University, the Hierarchy Podcast has been something I’ve really poured my heart into. It takes a lot of work to record, edit, and package it for distribution around the world. And, like most other ventures here, it’s a lonely pursuit. I never know if anybody is really hearing me, even though I’ve had plenty of evidence that the podcast is making a difference. Maybe I just get down on myself sometimes.
But occasionally someone sends me a letter so heartfelt and uplifting that I want to rise up and hug the whole world. A faggot brother sent me the following letter in my Questions From Readers Inbox, and I wanted to share it in a special post.
Here’s what he wrote:
Brother, your latest podcast, “Accept Your Truth”, was simply amazing. So many faggots go down the path of misery, and spend years, or even a whole lifetime, suffering, because they cannot let go of the guilt, fear, and shame they believe go along with the acts of a faggot. So many faggots can’t fathom having a happy, fulfilling life. And it’s no wonder. We are a type of separate sex ENTIRELY that is never talked about except in our own circles, or by the Men that use us. A faggot goes through his own “sexual” development just like any other human, but there is no one to sit and hold our hand and explain these crazy feelings we constantly have.
I was a basket case for years, especially when it came to sex. I knew I was different than the person everyone around me was telling me I had to be. I LOVE the way you put it, yes I lived with it my whole life, yes, it was “the white noise of my life…” I just couldn’t put it all together until, like you, I had a real Man, a Man who understood faggots, show me what I am. For me, it wasn’t bad news, it set me free. I embraced it and let myself be a “faggot for Men” and my life has been so wonderful for years and years. Not only sex, but my PLACE in the world makes so much sense. The way I interact with other Men makes so much sense. The worthless appendage between my legs makes sense!
Your words “It’s not the act itself that defines whether or not you’re a faggot, it’s what you are inside, already…You were born a faggot. You have these feelings and yearnings because you are a faggot“…Sam, that hit me in the gut SO hard. It’s such a simple truth that we miss seeing even as it is slapping us in our collective faces.
Thank you for being brave about being a faggot and using the word faggot. Thank you for giving faggots a place to go and get advice and help gain understanding. Thank you for giving us a place to be ourselves. I’ve long said only a faggot TRULY understands another faggot. Alpha Men should never be burdened with understanding a faggot, only identifying us in order to use us. I really hope your site becomes a beacon for faggots who need support from other faggots.
As you said, an Alpha Man helped you on your path to understanding being a faggot. One did for me as well. Somewhere right now a faggot is gaining understanding of what he is because a Man is selfishly (and rightfully) using him. These Men, through using us, held up a mirror and said “This is what you are and have always been, and the things I’m doing to you are what you are made for. You exist for My use. THIS is what your life can be. Embrace these facts and live a happy, fulfilled, HONEST life. Ignore them and suffer in confusion trying to be something you’re not…a real Man.”
This was the best podcast I’ve ever heard. I truly hope a lot of lost faggots find their way because of it…or at least find ENOUGH courage to be with that Man who can hold the mirror up to them and show them a glimpse of what life CAN be.
Lastly, when you say you love your brothers at the end of podcasts…I truly believe it. Something in your voice is so earnest and sweet! We love you too!
I cannot tell you how it felt to hear these words! It was literally like a man dying of thirst who receives even a little bit of water!
Funnily enough, I was disappointed by that episode of the show, and it gnawed at me for days afterward. I kept thinking of ways I should’ve phrased points, or points I felt were left unclear. You have no idea how much I obsess over getting every detail right. Insecurity plagues me like that sometimes.
But letters like this are very special to me because the podcast in particular is my heartfelt conversation directly with each listener. When I know I’ve connected with another person in this way, it really lifts me up!
My brother J, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sending me this kind note. I’m so glad the episode resonated with you, even though you are already living your truth! It makes me proud to be able to serve Alphas shoulder-to-shoulder with you!
And yes, I do love you. It’s not an act. I love all of those who’ve come to me, trusted me, supported me, and loved me. Thank you for your love and support, and for your beautiful letter that came just at the right time!
I heard from a well-known cashmaster yesterday. He’s stepping away from findom because he’s being harassed and stalked by faggots in the scene, and it’s beginning to intrude on his personal life and business ventures.
This straight Alpha (who will never be named by me, so don’t bother asking) is one of the greatest Kings of the findom scene, a genuinely superior Man that any faggot would dream to serve forever. Before findom, he knew nothing about the ownership of faggots … but he learned quickly, and used his meticulous intelligence and heartfelt intuition to connect with faggots of all types while simultaneously showing his brothers a better way to lead. In a scene as potentially wretched as findom, he was it’s clearest and brightest light.
And some ignorant, selfish “faggots” out there have shut him down.
I’m profoundly disgusted by these so-called faggots. They know nothing about the depth of knowledge and peace that comes from faithfully and willingly sacrificing oneself in service to a superior Man. They play games in findom, accomplishing nothing of value, just masturbatory fantasies, division, and chaos.
I’ve long disagreed with findom Alphas (or any Alpha) who say faggots are worthless. In reality, true faggots are not worthless; in fact, they can be very valuable possessions of an Alpha’s Kingdom.
But these selfish, game-playing faggots ARE worthless. They have less use than the leaves and sticks gathered from the ground in the fall and used as kindling for bonfires.
This is truly another dark moment for a scene I’ve only ever half-endorsed anyway. All of the faggot pussies out there playing games with Alphas – or worse, actively trying to destroy their lives – should be truly ashamed of themselves. Of course, they’re too fucking stupid (or doped up) to understand.
These ones actually make me wish poppers were poisonous.
I was born in 1978, so my entire conscious life as a homosexual and a faggot has been lived under the spectre of HIV and AIDS. It’s hard to explain to younger people what that has been like. Yes, technically they have had to deal with that as well, but to them HIV is a chronic and manageable illness thanks to the incredible medicines introduced in 1996.
But it was an absolute death sentence before 1996.
Back then, death came at diagnosis. The ostracism of terrified healthy people with their hatred and judgements made life almost unlivable before the disease actually took them. Then came the wave of opportunistic diseases as their immune systems collapsed, frightening and sometimes disfiguring conditions with terrifying names like toxoplasmosis, Kaposi’s sarcoma, Back then, death came at diagnosis; the ostracism of terrified healthy people with their hatred and judgements made life almost unlivable before the disease actually took them. Then came the wave of opportunistic diseases as their immune systems collapsed, frightening and sometimes disfiguring conditions with terrifying names like toxoplasmosis, Kaposi’s sarcoma, candidiasis, or Pneumocystis pneumonia that would ravage their bodies without relief.
The death of my gay friend Stephen in 1995 from AIDS spurred me to learn much more about the disease than any other HIV- person I knew. For a time I was actively part of a group of famous people known as “AIDS dissidents” who questioned the idea that HIV directly caused AIDS. Of course, my propensity for research-based conclusions eventually led me to fight with these people; In the late nineties I had a vicious back-and-forth with famed writer Celia Farber and her intractable views that science and evidence continually disproved until she finally cut me off. Yeah, I’ve always been a firebrand.
The shadow of HIV/AIDS is a long, cold one that has suffocated at least one entire generation – mine. Yet from that shadow rise voices and examples of those who went to their death struggling to cobble together some amount of dignity as their bodies failed. They wink at us like fireflies in the descending dusk. I thought about them when I was fighting for my life through cancer in 2018, and again though a blood infection of staph in 2020.
Why am I still here, and they are gone?
I feel like a soldier that took the beach in Normandy, only to look around at my friends all blown to pieces or missing limbs and strewn across the bloody sand like refuse. There is gratitude, of course, but also a vacuous void inside me. It’s a hollow victory.
I recently watched a documentary on Pedro Zamora, the beautiful gay boy featured on Season 3 of MTV’s revolutionary “reality” series The Real World in 1994. This particular season was as real as it gets, because Pedro was HIV+ and proudly advocating for knowledge and understanding. I watched that season, and Pedro made an impact on me. To see that bright, adorable young man so bravely stand up for himself during the show, only to fall terribly ill and die a few months later, was impossible to ignore. The memory of that last picture of him, crippled and nearly comatose just a day before his death, still haunts me.
And that’s the perfect word: haunted. My generation of gays is haunted by all of the hollow eyes and piercing cries of those lost to this discriminatory plague. And no matter how long I live here, I will never not hear them or see them.
Which is why I dearly love what Madonna did on her most recent tour. She took her classic “Live To Tell” and used it as a way to pay homage to all of the artists who died of AIDS around her over the course of her long career. The song was not originally about AIDS deaths, but it becomes the only anthem for people like me and Madonna and any others who survived the horror of it all.
This post is part of a thread following a faggot named Giovanni who is owned by Master Lorenzo. CLICK HERE to read all of these posts in chronological order!
I fall in love with some of the fag brothers who write to me a lot and share their feelings with me. In the past there were cute little fags like Guillaume or Titouan, or all of the seven fags owned by the straight Alphas in Toronto. These days adorable faggots like baby bunny Jimmy or Fabien have my heart.
And then there’s little Giovanni, primary faggot of Master Lorenzo. He’s special to me because I have been there every step of the way with him as he was acquired by Master Lorenzo, and Gio has shared every fear and every triumph along his path of fulfillment in endless emails. Most importantly, I know how much Gio pleases our mutual Master Lorenzo, and that fills me with great pride and joy.
Several months ago Master Lorenzo ordered everyone in his realm to cease all communication with me (and everyone else), a move that crushed and confused me. Making it worse was the fact that I wasn’t given very clear reasons why, so it felt like I was being punished. Now, I’m an experienced faggot who knows that sometimes Alphas make decisions we don’t understand, but our job is to obey and accept their direction … so that’s what I did when Master Lorenzo ordered a blackout. I accepted it and moved on.
Even after Master Lorenzo returned to me months later, I didn’t ask for reasons like a jilted lover. I’m his faggot; I was sure he had his reasons.
But now Master Lorenzo ordered Giovanni to write to me and explain what happened.
Helloooo brother Sam!! this is Giovanni from Brazil <3 <3
omg Sam, so much things happened… I really want to talk to you. I need to tell you something wrong that I did, I think you will be angry with me. I was talking with other men in the twitter, and this is why everything changed. You know when my papi and Master Lorenzo told you that we would disappear for some time? It was right after he found out about my twitter. I will explain to you: I was just curious using twitter and one day I sent a picture of me wearing lingerie to another man, without showing my face. I thought it was okay and Lorenzo would not be upset, so I continued to do this. This guy sent my picture to other guys, then when I saw there was soooo many guys asking my videos and pictures. One day one of them wanted me to send him money to do findom, so I told everything to Lorenzo and he was sooooo disappointed with me, so he told me that everybody from the family (I, Rafael, Bruno, Juan, and Jose) would quit social media and we would be together as a family without Internet. Lorenzo said that he didn’t want to tell you this part of the story because you would be upset with me, but I want to be honest. Sam, I thought before that Lorenzo would punish me just spanking my ass and then fucking me really hard, but no! He stopped fucking me for 2 weeks and put me grounded without Internet for 6 months!!! I could only use whatsapp to talk with my friends and my family, but no social media without his supervision. Yesterday it was 5 months of my punishment, but Lorenzo told me that I have been a really good boy for him, so he gave me permission to talk to you, but on the website, he wants me to share my questions and stories with you, but on the site now, not in the private email <3 <3 This is why we changed, it’s all my fault, and I hope you won’t be angry with me, Sam. But I love you soooo much, brother <3 And I miss you, Lorenzo forgived me for what I did and I hope you will forgive me too because I really love you <3
Another thing brother: I’m sooo excited with Jose coming here to Master’s house. He will be 1 week with us and I think it will be soooo hot to see my Master fucking him, omg!! And I am sure he will want to fuck me to, so I’m getting ready
I love you Sam <3 Now the things will be back to normal. I think Lorenzo was too hard on this punishment to me without social media, but I understand that I was wrong, and now he is okay again, he even said that he love me
(I am loving so much the nursing school!!! I will be a really committed and sexy nurse one day)
Just from reading that you can tell that Giovanni is just the craziest, silliest, cutest little faggot in the world, right?
There’s no way in the world I would be angry or disappointed in my brother Gio. I mean, I wish he would keep focused on the God Alpha he serves rather than lust after every Alpha he sees, but Gio’s young. When I was Gio’s age I was doing far worse!
And Master Lorenzo is a generous owner, allowing his Alpha brothers to fuck Gio as well in order to give Gio other dicks to service. Eager, hungry faggots like Gio (or Jimmy, or Fabien, or most faggots) need to be fed and bred, but they must also be cultivated, nurtured, and pruned through discipline.
I love that Master Lorenzo is putting Gio through nursing school. What a terrific vocation for a faggot (Chin, the faggot of Master Jin, is also a nurse), because it utilizes and enhances a faggot’s caring, service-oriented mindset. I’m incredibly proud of Gio for this!
But most of all, I just want to say that I’m not mad at my brother at all.
And I love you, little Gio. Thank you for being my friend, my brother, and my inspiration.
There have been at least four half-started versions of this story during this blog’s 4.5-year history. Every time I would start it, I’d feel panic and stop. But, for the sake of transparency, I finally got it done. Enjoy my shame!
For a time when I was 27 I had no Owner. So, of course, I was out prowling the night and sucking dick pretty regularly. One Friday evening I met a local Alpha named Carlo (not his real name). Carlo was 21 years old and gorgeous. He looked A LOT like this pretty famous amateur porn star that I’m sure most of my readers have seen at one point or another:
Needless to say, I was pretty excited to serve this guy. Sadly, we couldn’t get together that night, so he invited me over the next day after he got off work.
I arrived on time at the condo address (he was renting it). He opened the door wearing a black Adidas tee-shirt, basketball shorts, and some red Converse shoes.
“Come in,” he said flatly. I looked up at him. His dark eyes were unsympathetic, predatorial. He looked like a hungry human shark. I followed his command and entered. The condo was a split level unit. The lower level had no furniture in it. There were beer cans and trash scattered here and there around the place.
He saw me surveying the damage. “Had a party last night since it’s my last weekend,” he said dismissively. “Wanna beer?”
He handed me a Budweiser and we sat together on the brick fireplace. Mostly mindless “getting to know you” chit-chat. I couldn’t take my eyes off of his feet.
“What size shoe do you wear, Sir?” I asked tentatively.
He smiled. “Size twelve.”
“Wow,” I replied breathlessly, not even trying to disguise my lust.
“You like that?” he asked. I nodded. “Take my shoes off.”
I practically fell on my face stumbling to my knees at his feet. The shoes were barely tied, so I slipped them off one at a time. No socks – beautiful. His feet were big and wide and suckable. I followed my natural instinct and leaned down to kiss them. Carlo chuckled nervously.
While I was lost in worship, I heard the rustling of fabric. I looked up to see Carlo discarding his shirt, exposing his nicely-built chest decorated with several tattoos. They looked beautiful on the light-brown sugar of his skin.
He glared down at me. “I want you to suck my dick.” With that, he pulled his shorts down, allowing a large brown cock to flop out. I scrambled up to meet it, hungrily sucking it into my mouth. It was already pretty hard, but it stiffened to full power almost instantly as I sucked the fat head.
“Yeah, you faggots like that,” he growled. I was not his first. I mumbled affirmatively while taking more of his meat down my throat. He wrapped a hand around the back of my head and gently pushed my head onto it.
Let me tell you, he smelled amazing. I don’t think he had showered from the previous night, and he had that sweaty musk emanating from his crotch. At the first chance, I went and began licking his round, swollen balls in order to inhale that scent more deeply.
Then Carlo surprised me. “I want to fuck you.”
I bolted upright. Like a stupid faggot, I hadn’t prepped prior to meeting up. I thought I might suck this Latino god and nothing more. In addition, my digestive system wasn’t exactly cooperating. I began begging off his plan to fuck me, but he only became more insistent.
Finally, he had enough. “Faggot, take off your clothes,” he ordered firmly. Game over.
I took off my clothes glumly like I was preparing for the gas chamber and tossed them onto the fireplace. Then Carlo took me by the arm and led me upstairs to the bedroom.
Unlike the lower level, the bedroom still had most of its furniture intact. Carlo placed a hand on my back and pushed me face-first onto the bed. I remained still, breathing heavily out of fear of what could happen. I heard him pump lube and slather it on his cock. Then he swiped some over my hole.
Carlos placed his hands firmly on my hips and yanked me toward him so that my ass was draped over the edge of the bed. I lifted my ass to meet him. Then I felt him push his cock in slowly, the lips of my ass stretching around it.
He began to fuck me hard. I could hear him grunting with almost every thrust. It felt amazing, truly, but I was distracted. I was feeling something churning in my bowels.
The pressure and pushing were becoming too obvious to ignore. I began to crawl forward away from him, but Carlo grabbed me and held me in place. He was getting close.
Then it happened. I felt a wetness on my legs. Then light splattering. I WAS SHITTING ON THIS ALPHA! Incredibly, Carlo was undeterred. He kept pounding my ass, each thrust accompanied by a wet thwap! My mind went elsewhere. Like any moment of trauma, the only defense is to divorce yourself from what is happening with your body.
Carlo finally stopped and pulled out. I slowly turned around. Carlo was panting and sweaty, his cock and lower torso covered with my diarrhea. The smell was beyond description.
“I … I’m so sorry Sir …” I whispered.
“I’m going to take a shower,” said Carlo in a no-nonsense tone, “clean yourself up in the bathroom downstairs.”
I turned toward the bedroom door. “And don’t leave,” he added.
I stumbled down the stairs in a daze. I went into the small downstairs bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I felt like crying. I solemnly cleaned myself as best as I could.
I went into the living room and quickly dressed. I could hear Carlo finishing his shower. I was tempted to leave, but I obeyed his order to stay.
Eventually, Carlo came downstairs in just a towel. “I thought you might leave,” he said, almost smirking. My eyes were cast downward. “No, Sir, you told me to stay.”
We talked idly for a few minutes as I slowly slunk toward the door. Then, as I was leaving, he said, “I’ll call you.” I nodded and left.
I didn’t think he would ever call me again, but he did! I never answered any of the calls or returned them. I just couldn’t face him after that.
Is there a lesson that can come from this awful story? Maybe a couple:
1. Always be prepared when meeting with an Alpha.
2. Never judge the sexual interests of a Man. You never know what he might like or want.
As a gay male who’s old enough to remember some of the darkness of the AIDS crisis in the ‘80s and the few heroes who fought it, I’m ashamed I’ve never heard the following story. Ruth Coker Burks should be heralded for her unselfish compassion and love in the face of horrible odds and even worse hatred and homophobia.
Ruth Coker Burks was just in her twenties when she found herself sitting at the bedside of a dying man with AIDS in a Little Rock hospital in the early 1980s, holding his hand because his family wouldn’t come. At a time when fear and ignorance about AIDS were rampant, when people thought you could catch it from a touch, she became the person who stayed. She wasn’t a nurse, or a doctor, or an activist with a microphone—she was just there, over and over again, when young men, often gay men estranged from their families, needed someone to look them in the eye as they died.
She used her family’s cemetery in Hot Springs, Arkansas, to bury over forty men with AIDS when funeral homes refused to handle the bodies and families wouldn’t claim them. She would often wrap the bodies herself, dig the graves with a friend or on her own, and offer a prayer. She marked their graves with simple bricks or PVC pipe crosses, making sure they had a place to rest that was tended, a place where someone remembered their names.
It wasn’t glamorous. She fought with funeral homes, doctors, and local politicians. She used her savings to buy medicine and groceries for men who had no one left to call, sitting with them while they took their last breaths. She navigated the fear that even medical staff felt around these men, sometimes having to bring them food herself in the hospital. She became family to men whose own parents would call her and demand she “let them die” alone. Instead, she stayed, holding their hands, reminding them they were not alone, that they were loved, even if it was by a stranger.
In a time when gay men were dying alone and being buried in garbage bags or cremated without ceremony, Ruth Coker Burks made sure they had a grave and a name. She became a mother figure, a sister, and a final comfort for so many men abandoned at the end, creating an island of dignity in a sea of fear and rejection. She offered what the world so often withheld from gay men during the AIDS crisis: care, respect, and the simple, holy act of being seen.
Ruth Coker Burks wrote a book titled “All The Young Men” about her experiences with these dying victims. It will be on my reading list.
Thanks to The AIDS Quilt page on Facebook for publishing this!
Destroyer Alpha types discover bullying at a young age (like most Alphas do), but without proper role models these ones become consumed by hate and bullying becomes their only means of navigating the adult world.
I know lots of faggots fetishize bullies. They crave their abuse. But ultimately bullies must be rejected. Because as Trump and his cast of ghoulish bullies are now proving, bullies only leave misery and destruction in their wake.
i’ve followed your podcast for a few years now. it took me about that long to recognize how earnestly you were sharing the truth. really, it took meeting my Master, the first true and developed Alpha in my life, to understand how real and sacred Hierarchy is.
i recognize you have your own life, probably busy with the content you create and the Alphas you serve. however, if you’re interested in chatting with and perhaps mentoring a fellow faggot brother who is deeply committed to the same path as you, id love to connect. if not, best wishes and thanks for being brave enough to stand up and broadcast this unpopular truth to the world.
-stefan
Thanks for the question, brother!
Of course we can talk! I have a million ways to get in touch with me all listed on the links page of this site. Pick one and reach out!
The following is part of a thread following the development of a straight Alpha named Cal after he discovered Hierarchical Truth on this site and with the help of Master Chad and God Dino! CLICK HERE to read these posts in chronological order!
In the wild history of this site, there’s never been anything like the rise of Master Cal. He reached out to me as an everyday straight Alpha trapped in a loveless marriage after reading what I was writing about Hierarchy. After mentoring him a little bit, I put him in touch with Master Chad, son of God Alpha Dino. Master Cal immediately made a beeline for their family mansion in the mountains, and discovered the wonders of faggot worship for the very first time. His eyes were opened, and he never went back to his past life.
That was four years ago. In that time Master Cal has ascended to heights rivaled only by his Alpha brothers there at The Mansion. He has spent his days and nights fucking and breeding pussy both female and faggot, rabble-rousing with fellow hellion Master Chad, and embracing the ultimate life promised to all God Alphas by the majestic mechanisms of Hierarchy.
Needless to say that His exposure to his Alpha brothers Masters Chad and Dean had a powerful effect, but it was the life-changing intensity and vision of God Dino and his fag-wife Jamie that really trained Master Cal and sculpted him into the reality-bending powerhouse he is today.
All of that happened because a silly faggot with training and experience decided to dedicate itself to teaching others the truth on a website it made (that’s me, BTW)! Crazy!
Master Cal gave me a updates over several days. Some of it I cannot share here, but here’s what I can:
Interesting that, at least to My ass, you’re still a “boy”. Fags are girls to Us Guys but you rank a little higher with Me. Maybe because you were the first hole to aid in My ascension. I don’t know but I do know you’ll always be My fag boy and if the opportunity ever comes, I’ll fuck you bloody in appreciation. Sounds good, doesn’t fag boy? lmao
It’s all good here. Word was you were doing a podcast concerning Me but what got put up last wasn’t it. Still going to do it fag boy? I got My ego puffed like a cock by a porn fluffer then got fucking disappointment instead.
I guess Chad and Pop will be back soon. We sure have kept the rainbow busy. Dean’s got to let them rest a day or two before They are back so the fags can be prepared for the onslaught of rutting. Us Guys have really given the whores a workout! I don’t believe My cock has been this sore since My first days here. Goddamn little bunny! she is on fire for Tank and everyone else not sleeping or cumming in something else. I tell you fag boy, that little giggling slut will yell when You mount her like You’ve killed her but then she’ll wrap her little legs behind her head. That slams her pussy down on Your cock making everything super fucking tight. A Dude can barely get a good thrust going before she’s cumming like a cunt and milking His cock and in total ecstasy. Some Alphas don’t but I like seeing the effect My Power has on a lesser thing. It’s hot as fuck and leaves Me energized and more than ready to rape any goddamned hole I choose.
I’m gone fag boy. It’s lunch time. Since it’s Saturday and Pop is gone, Dean allows the rainbow to forego cooking lunch. Instead, Us Guys choose from a laid out array of meats, cheeses, and various breads and condiments. Damn boy, until I came here I didn’t even know what Camembert was, or Foie Gras or mountain oysters but now I have them anytime I want. Hell, fucking food is fed to Me if I want. I deserve nothing less than total satisfaction in My life and, by God, that’s exactly what I’m going to have. My Big Brother showed Me what a Man’s whole fucking existence is and I gratefully adapted to the facts. The most negative things in My present life are sometimes i got aching, empty junk and the occasional fag mishap. It’s easy to overuse such willing, anxious faggots when they fucking beg Us to fuck them senseless.
Goddamn. Speaking of begging, here’s whitey (whitefaggot) and bunny (Jimmy). Dean must be sleeping and I know these two whores have sucked off J.B. and one of His guards cause I saw them outside of a guardshack. Fucking little sluts. Well, guess I’ll bust another nut while I eat My duck sausage roll and potato salad. No rest for a Deity, I guess. lol Later, fag boy.
It’s insane to see how far Master Cal has come from those tentative early days when I first met him! Back then, the world’s conditioning repressed his Alphahood almost completely. Now, after rinsing in the clear hierarchical waters of God Dino’s Alpha Paradise, Master Cal speaks with an electric urgency that reminds me a lot of Master Chad!
Speaking of which, Master Cal also REPRODUCES like Master Chad. Until recently, I had no idea Master Chad had impregnated one of the many local women he fucks. Well, a few days ago that woman gave birth to Master Cal’s first children – TWIN SONS! God Dino arranged for his lawyers to swoop in immediately and get complete legal custody for Master Cal to bring them back to The Mansion!
As you might expect, Master Cal was beaming!
You’re Goddamn right, hole! I got 2 Sons! I’m so potent I busted twins in the bitch! I’m so pleased right now that after I finish taking in Their cuteness I’m going make My faggot a very happy cum hole.
I’m going to keep this short, fag boy but I want to show you how much I appreciate your help bringing Me to My Family. Pop said He wanted to adopt Me and give Me His name! Fuck! I’m a Goddamn D******** now! Fuck faggot! You got a clue how hard that made My sorry ass? I signed those papers quick, faggot. Chad laughed and said i signed them like there were about to disappear out of My hands. Smartass mutherfucker. Lol My terry and whitey look so sweet feeding the Boys. Goddamn I’m a Powerhouse of a Man!
Fuck, I’m pumped!! But here’s My gift to you fagboy, since I can’t fuck you bloody. My Sons names, in order by birth:
Calvin Dean D*******
and
Chadwick Samuel D*******
I already know Their tags though, C.D. and Cas. Going to change the Little Kings and put em down. Then I’m going to rape and breed every Goddamned hole I find. I feel like I could fuck the world, bitch! I just might do it. I’ll get back soon fag boy. I hope you know the blessing I just gave you, you sweet little cum dump. I told you I owed you something. Now you got it. I’m telling you one fucking day I’m going to come and fuck your dirty faggot ass like you’ve always dreamed a real Man would do. Huh. Filthy fag boy.
Master and Father,
Calvin Franklin D*******
Did you catch that? Master Cal’s second son carries the middle name “Samuel” in honor of ME!
When I saw that, I could’ve fallen over in shock. Instead, I got all weepy like I tend to do. I cannot even describe what it feels like to be honored like that by a straight God Alpha like Master Cal! I deserve nothing at all, but this great and powerful Alpha deigned to look down upon me and bequeath such a precious gift to me. I’m humbled beyond words, and I’ll be forever grateful for it! Thank you, Master!
This, my brothers, is why we serve these incredible Alphas! They deserve everything we have to give
Eight years ago singer/songwriter/actor Troye Sivan released an audacious trilogy of music videos from his groundbreaking Blue Neighborhood album. The three-song cycle is comprised of Troye’s songs “Wild”, “Fools”, and “Talk Me Down”, and it follows two young boys who grow into adolescence and fall in love with each other, only to be violently torn apart by one of the fathers.
It’s a story that plays out all the time around the world, and it’s heartbreaking every single time it happens.
The sad resignation of “Talk Me Down” has always stuck with me; it’s one of my favorite songs from Troye. The final shot is hauntingly memorable and open to interpretation. There are no easy answers here, and the cycle gives the viewer impressions of feelings rather than heavy-handed story. But the cumulative weight of those feelings … it’s overwhelming.
I wanted to share this because there isn’t enough art being made that really plumbs the depths of what it means to be gay and desiring of unattainable hopes.
I guess I’m just in a mood to share something from the heart tonight.
The following post is part of a thread following the continuing service of a faggot named James who has been serving a young straight Alpha for TEN YEARS. CLICK HERE to read all of these posts in chronological order!
The title to this post is a pretty well-known saying among Alphas. I know, because I’ve heard them say it plenty of times. And while it’s clearly meant to be a joke, there is an underlying belief that I feel Alphas accept about “consent” versus “consent in the moment”, which are two wildly different concepts.
I can tell you that Alphas in the moment take any hesitation in resistance to mean consent. In other words, if the faggot or female doesn’t fight back vigorously and emphatically when being taken by an Alpha, the Alpha considers that to be half-hearted and essentially just a suggestion of resistance. Like a playful game, let’s say.
My faggot brother James (who is still serving his straight Master after ten years!) had a thought about this issue, which he sent to me through my Questions From Readers inbox. Here’s what he had to say:
Although quite rare, I have read and even personally heard a faggot’s account of what they consider being raped by an Alpha after submitting to his control… The most common instance of this would be forceful anal penetration after discussing only oral service beforehand… It seems that these faggots consider themselves on a par with a woman, reserving the right to curtail the man’s sexual release at any time prior to culmination.
Although I have been one straight Alpha’s personal faggot for 10 years to date, just prior to this I experience the same situation on two separate occasions with two different Alpha males. In each case, I had previously consented to meet for the purpose of providing oral service to completion and swallowing the load. In both situations the Alpha made the decision that oral service would not be sufficient to fulfill his masculine needs. So, prior to arriving at climax, these Alphas provided me with anal sex as an option. I had not prepared or allotted time for this so I declined. This answer was not acceptable and I was physically forced into assuming the position and being fucked until his satisfaction had been achieved. Although a certain amount of force was used to bring me into compliance, I recall that my resistance was halfhearted at best. Something inside of me seemed to urge compliance. I would outwardly exhibit resistance, but total submission would be the end result.
Once penetrated, my ultimate purpose as a faggot was realized and the Alpha’s satisfaction was achieved. I never felt that I had been raped or anything akin to it. After all, these men had identified me as a faggot beforehand and that meant they would have a certain mindset as to my purpose.
I knew they had only acted as nature intended… And my final compliance was true to nature as well.
Here James draws a distinction between a female and a faggot in terms of “rights”, and I agree with that. Women are meant to be complements of a Man, not a slave (like faggots are). That’s not to say that Alphas don’t roll through the stop signs women put up, but the dynamic is definitely different. As far as Alphas are concerned, there are no stop signs with a faggot, given that a faggot’s entire existence is to serve and service Alpha needs. So right off the bat, we can see that an Alpha’s perspective going into a meet-up with a faggot is radically different than that of their approach to females.
So given an Alpha’s original perspective on a faggot – that it exists to be used – once an Alpha is in the act of using a faggot and it starts to “fight back”, it’s only natural that the Alpha would force the faggot to take his dick and load (or give up money, or whatever else an Alpha is using a faggot for).
But the real meat of what James says involves the end result within the faggot when it is forcibly entered against its will and bred (or, in the vernacular of some, raped). As he correctly points out, the faggot learns its place in a more meaningful way. It becomes more submissive, more obedient, and more grateful for a deeper understanding of Hierarchy.
That is certainly what happened to me in my rape (I do call it a rape because I was actually fighting back and had a knife put to my throat). Even in a more violent scenario like mine, once the bleeding stopped and I could process what happened I definitely understood Alpha rage and authority from a much deeper perspective. And, in a weird way, I developed gratitude for my rapist for teaching me a fundamental lesson about Hierarchical truth.
That’s sick to some. But those faggots out there who have been forcibly taken and used by aggressive Alphas know of the truths about which I speak. I guarantee that my brother James knows.
Ultimately, faggots are “the willing”. We are born with a willingness to be used by Alphas, to serve them even in their darkest moments. We NEED to be used this way.
So it isn’t rape … not really. Our faggot hearts were willing to be taken long before we ever protested, and before they ever even penetrated us.
Alphas teach us this every time they hold us down and force us to learn that lesson.
Hi Sam…brother faggot here and I am so glad you are back and running another site again. I started following FWA right as you had to put it on hold. I devoured all of its content. I really appreciate what you are trying to do for our community. So many faggots live their lives in denial, guilt, and fear instead of letting go and understanding that a life devoted to the service of real Men can be a truly happy life! I do my part in running a site on BDSMLR (https://cockandcumdevotion.bdsmlr.com/). I’ve started going through all of your podcasts. Some I remember from FWA (and I always get a kick out of your theme song). Keep it up brother!
Straight God Alpha Master Dino and his fag-wife Jamie made themselves known to me in the summer of 2020. Little did I know that their incredible story – and the stories of Master Dino’s sons and the other countless Alphas and faggots that form their crazy Family – would transform the precursor to this site, Fags Worship Alphas.
Longtime readers know this legendary series of threads, but for the newbies, I can only warn you to STRAP IN. Master Dino’s Family will scramble your mind, upend your perception of life’s possibilities, and help you come to an understanding of the deeper truths of Hierarchy.
Restoring these threads has become more important to me now that my beloved friend and mentor, Jamie, has recently died of cancer. I resurrect this humongous story in honor of him and his unequaled Owner and husband, Master Dino.
You can access this thread by clicking the pic above, or CLICKING HERE!
It has been an undeserved privilege to carry and protect this integral tale of dominance, power, purpose, and even love. I do it with gratitude and humility and a hushed, solemn awe.