Existence Of The God Alpha
Do you know how scientists first discovered the existence of black holes? It wasn’t through direct observation, of course, because black holes have such tremendous gravitational forces that even light cannot escape them.
No, scientists insisted that mathematical equations suggested their theoretical existence and predicted how they could be found … and when they looked, they suddenly found these monstrous inter-spacial vortexes! However, even when looking directly at a black hole they didn’t see it, but rather the effect it had on everything around it.
As a younger faggot I was very much like those scientists of the mid-twentieth century, except my field of study wasn’t black holes, but was something that was consuming my life at the time: Hierarchy. I’d served many Alphas, been owned multiple times, and through these experiences I began piecing together and methodically testing what I’ve come to understand as Hierarchical fact today.
Most crucial of my discoveries was the existence of Alpha hierarchy within the larger framework itself. To date I’m the only one who has accurately described Alpha hierarchy, put names and functions to each level of Alpha hierarchy, and then successfully used it to predict Alpha behavior. Mind you, I’m just a faggot who has spent many years in the service of great Alphas, but I was paying attention!
In my head, the math suggested that there should be a Final Alpha, the most powerful one. But how to find and identify such a Man? My interactions with Alphas were largely one-on-one, and I didn’t realize that was the problem. That’s like trying to scan the stars while looking at them through a cardboard toilet paper tube!
I needed to see Alphas together, interacting with each other daily, before the evidence of the existence of God Alphas presented itself!
Funnily enough, the God Alpha I discovered was my bunk mate!
When I arrived in prison camp in July of 2022 to serve time for a crime I never meant to commit, I was accidentally redirected to the wrong bunk. In this camp, the dormitory building was a long straight metal shack with two floors, both identical. A long hallway ran down the full length of each floor, and on each side of the hallway were cubes, each cube containing four cubicles and two beds per cubicle.
I was supposed to be upstairs in the predominantly white section, but I was placed in the lower level with the blacks. Little did they know about my preferences…
When I arrived, I met my “cellie”, a hulking, muscular 53-year-old black Alpha named “B” (everybody had letters for names there except for me). B was in the midst of his fourth long stint in prison for drug dealing, and he knew as soon as he saw me I didn’t belong there. So he set expectations and began teaching me how to move in prison.
Of course I never learned, a fact that amused B as much as it annoyed him. I’d make B laugh long and loud when I’d crack a joke or sass back at someone. “Man, my cellie funny!” B often bellowed to the other black Alphas in our cube.
Because of B I wore a shield of protection wherever I went.
But then I began to notice how other Apex Alphas would visit our cubicle to consult with B (I was ordered out of the cubicle during these Alpha conferences). I watched as B directed a couple of Apex Alphas (primarily an older Apex named Doe) to shepherd a young black Apex named “D”.
I also watched other Alphas in camp slip into our cubicle very early in the morning to leave fresh milk and fruit and other gifts for B to enjoy … tributes, for lack of a better term.
And then it hit me – B is a God Alpha!
A God Alpha isn’t something a Man bestows upon himself. It’s something bestowed upon him by the submission of all other levels of Alphahood.
To this point I hadn’t spoken much about Hierarchy, so I decided to ask B about it.
“B, do you consider yourself to be Alpha?” I asked.
B’s reply shocked me: “I am God.”
A couple of months later the camp’s presiding officer visited our cubicle and was going to move me. But B stopped him (yes, he stopped the head officer!) and told him this: “Naw man, Sam’s the best cellie I’ve ever had.”
I still carry that great compliment around inside me with warped pride.
A month later B was caught bringing contraband into camp and was shipped off to higher security.
But I will see him again. Once he’s free he’s flying to Aruba to marry his fiancé. I told him I’m going to be there. “Sam, if you show up, just know I’m gonna stab yo’ ass.”
Death by God Alpha. What a way for a faggot to go!
