The following post is part of a thread chronicling Nathan, a faggot who once served a straight Alpha wrestler named Tommy back in school. They’ve reunited after ten years when Alpha Tommy’s father took ill. CLICK HERE to read all of these posts in chronological order!

Have you ever seen an Alpha you worship break down and really cry? I have. My Master Aaron lost a very close friend and mentor to a sudden aneurysm while in another city. Understandably, the news crushed him. I walked into my condo and saw him on the couch sobbing so deeply that it changed the air pressure in the room. When he saw me, he got up, walked slowly over to me, and hugged me for the longest time while weeping. I held him until he finally fell asleep that night. It’s a memory I’ve always carried and cherished, because I was privileged to be there to help my superior Master and see the softer side he always kept at arm’s length.

It is very much a privilege to see an Alpha’s heart!

My brother Nathan reconnected with his old college Master Tommy just as Master Tommy’s father was dying. In the last update, things were getting darker and the inevitable was approaching.

Now, it has finally come:

Dear Sam,

Nathan again, and the ongoing saga of reuniting with my college Alpha Tommy. Sorry about that previous cliffhanger, most of it was a blur and I just didn’t think “he pounded my brains out” was all that interesting an ending for some reason. I now realize my mistake.

I regret to say it, but the inevitable finally happened. Tommy’s father passed not too long after he was admitted into the facility. While the sharp downturn toward the end meant it wasn’t a total surprise and gave him a little time to emotionally prepare, Tommy still turned into an absolute zombie after it happened, not only due to the grief but also the sudden shift from having the work and stress and responsibility taking up so much of his time to suddenly having almost nothing to actually do, the big empty space his father left behind nearly consumed him. I kept reverting back to my basic domestic faggot behavior, keeping the house tidy, cooking meals, and when I had nothing else left to do, sitting on the floor between his feet, resting my head on one of his legs (this was one of our favorite positions in college, one of my favorite sensations was feeling his heartbeat inside his thighs on either side of my face as he gently applied pressure on and off.) I don’t think he spoke for the first solid week, but the day of his Dad’s funeral, something finally changed. For the first time, he took my chin in his hand, raised my face up to meet his, and barely whispered “Thank you.” A couple of days later, when he first woke up, as I was bringing him breakfast, I saw him lying there with one brawny arm raised to block his face from the sunrise, and I decided to take a risk and lean over to bury my face in his armpit. I’m not sure why, maybe it was the fact it was the first time he slept peacefully through the night without tossing and turning and waking up every couple hours, but I just got a very strong hunch that he was finally ready to rejoin the land of the living. I was right, as I was taking a deep sniff, the same way I used to wake him up in the dorm, he made his move, squeezing me in a headlock and forcing my face deeper into his pit. In a flash, we were on the floor, rolling around and wrestling the same way we always did back in the dorms. I confess I put up a little bit more of a fight this time… just to let him know I wasn’t the same shy, scrawny twerp I was back then… before finally easing up and submitting to him again. When we were finally in his favorite position (me lying on my back, him sitting on my chest in a schoolboy pin with his meaty thighs squeezing both sides of my head,) he looked down, made eye contact despite his impressive (and growing) bulge in the way, and as he caught his breath, did what I had been hoping to hear him do for a while, he laughed, long and hard, for probably the first time in a couple of years. It was such a joy to see the years and stress fall and watch him turn back into the young, cheerful, smiling college boy I met and submitted to back in freshman year. I’d have laughed, too, had he not sat that giant meaty ass of his back on my ribcage and cut off my ability to breathe.

This, however, is the part of the story you might find a little bittersweet. My attempts to continue to be his sub started to somewhat break down. Not due to any lack of effort on my part to be clear, but any time I would sit on the floor by his feet, he would instead grab me up onto the couch with him and lean over, resting his head in my lap. My attempts to sleep at the foot of his bed like a good puppy would be thwarted when I’d wake up the next morning and find I’d been dragged up to the top of the bed and had my arms wrapped around him, turning me into “Big Spoon” and some kind of security blanket. I guess even the toughest Alphas need to feel a little vulnerable every so often (and if there’s ever a good reason for it, losing your beloved dad is a good one,) and it definitely felt like a privilege that he trusted me enough to be the one to see it. Since that was apparently what he needed at this point, I decided to play the part, gently but firmly making sure he started to re-enter the world again… taking him to the gym, treating him to a haircut and shave at the local barber, treating him to a new wardrobe since he’s lost a little weight due to the past year’s stress, just trying to build him back up as a man and a human being and find that assertive Dom I knew he still was. It was definitely weird to be in the driver’s seat in this situation, but I just told myself I was still tending to his needs, so I was still submitting to him, I just wasn’t waiting for orders to be given and just knew what they were.

As time started to pass and he started to emerge from his mourning, this tendency extended to our other behavior, too. The first couple of times we tried to slip back into our old roles, we both realized something wasn’t working anymore, things just felt… off. Tommy seems to think that maybe he just gets all his dominant energy out in the boardroom and doesn’t have any left in the tank when he comes home, but I’m not sure I buy that. He used to get plenty of aggression out on the wrestling mat and still managed to come back to the dorm and rough me up just fine, and I still have the scars of a couple of bite marks to prove it. I think it’s a little simpler than that. I think he’s changed a lot due to the hardships he’s endured the past few years: they made him gentler… kinder. He doesn’t want to be cruel or aggressive to the people he loves, he wants to appreciate and cherish them, and no amount of telling him that being aggressively dommed by him is exactly how a sub like me feels cherished can bring him around. I see it in other ways, too. He still oozes the confidence that drew me to him all those years ago, but it’s more understated and subtle now. I see more “calmly confident” compared to his previous “outward cockiness.” He used to make a loud entrance any time he entered a room to assert his dominance over it, now he simply enters with the quiet attitude of someone who knows he doesn’t need to. His still-dazzling smile has a hint of something wistful and maybe even a little shy to it now. It suits him very well.

Though it does mean our dynamic has changed a little bit. We still have our dom and sub roles… as I write this, I’m sitting on the floor in front of his chair while he sits behind me, resting his ankles on my shoulders and taunting me by trying to stick his big toe in my mouth, but pulling it away any time I’m actually about to catch it with my tongue… but now the vibe is different, it feels a little more like a couple’s kinky roleplaying rather than an alpha asserting his dominance on a total submissive. I’m still coming to grips with how I feel about that, but I do believe Tommy is worth sticking around to see how it plays out. Maybe with a little time, and some more goading on my part, I can bring the old Tommy back completely, but even if I can’t, this new “Tommy 2.0” is nice, too, and I dare so say that, maybe in a few ways, even better (fewer bruises, at least.)

Speaking of, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Porterhouse to cook, some massage oils to warm up, and nine inches of something hard and girthy poking me in the back of the neck to get my attention as a pair of beefy quads are starting to squeeze around my ears in a headscissors, so I better wrap this up quickly.

First of all, I want to express my sincerest condolences for Master Tommy’s loss of his father. I know he’s not reading this, but Nathan is. Master Tommy is far too young to endure this kind of loss.

But thank goodness that he had his loyal faggot at his side through all of this! I don’t think Alphas truly appreciate what a faggot does for them during times like these. A female can be comforting and tender just like a faggot, but a faggot also WORSHIPS them. Faggots restore their POWER and CONFIDENCE better than females do.

That’s exactly what Nathan did for Master Tommy after the initial grieving passed. Master Tommy reverted back to his old self, seeking to relive some of of his more dominant tendencies. I’m sure it felt good to take out his tension on Nathan, and use him aggressively. It helps Master Tommy remember what he really is – a dominant and superior Man!

The end of Nathan’s letter felt a bit sad and nostalgic in a “soft evening sunset” kind of way. I don’t think this is the end of Nathan’s service to Master Tommy. I just think that Master Tommy is maturing and becoming something more than a personification of dominance and bravado. He’s lost his father, and he’s thinking about mortality and his place in the world. These kinds of deep concerns have plagued Alphas since the beginning of time. More than half of the written works of Shakespeare tackle this very subject!

Master Tommy still knows he deserves to be serviced and pleased by a faggot like Nathan, and he also knows Nathan needs to serve. But that knowledge is now wrapped in a blanket of concern and compassion that maybe he didn’t have before.

Alphas grow and mature. They’re allowed to slow down their aggression and experience some peace. They aren’t cartoon characters … they’re Men with rivers of emotions buried behind their Kingdom walls. Master Tommy is changing, but his essence will never change.

I’m just so grateful Nathan could be there and then document this part of a faggot’s service to its Owner. This is an important lesson for all faggots to learn!

Recently a top I’ve been seeing has been using breath control on me. At first this involved only pinching my nose shut while thrusting his cock down my throat or putting a rubber hood without a mouth opening over my head and then closing off the nose holes. Last night he put a plastic bag over my head while I was tied up and held it closed until I passed out. When I expressed alarm about this activity, he assured me that he was in control and even said that next time he would introduce me to garrotting. I’m nervous about this. The guy is a great top, and I want to go on seeing him, but how do I get him to stop this?

Brother, thank you for your question!

I was horrified to read what you wrote. Simply put: your life is in danger. I don’t care if this Alpha is a cardiologist with a Nobel prize in medicine – there is NO guarantees when you cause another person to lose oxygen, stop breathing, or pass out. The plastic bag on the head should’ve been the end of it, but he wants to keep experimenting. 

EDIT: a very experienced Alpha on the HU Discord named Master Hadrian added this important information:

Absolutely the right answer. There is NO safe way to do breath control, and the main danger isn’t, as most people assume, asphyxiation. That danger can be managed to some extent. The real danger is a heart attack—lack of oxygen caused your body to send erratic electrical signals to your heart, trying to get oxygen moving to your organs. If one of these random signals hits at the moment your heart should beat normally, the two signals can essentially cancel each other out and trigger ventricular fibrillation, which causes the heart to stop beating and just quiver in effectively—in laymen’s terms, you have a heart attack.

There are basically two types of heart attack. Atrial fibrillation is where you have chest pain, shortness of breath, etc—if you get treatment there’s a good chance you survive. Ventricular fibrillation is when you clutch your chest and drop dead. If a defibrillator is applied immediately, you’ve got maybe a 50% chance to surviving; if not survival rates can be as low as 2%. And you’ve only got a couple minutes to get defibrillated before it’s too late.

With garroting, there’s a host of other risks—damage to the windpipe, damage to the nerves in the neck, brain damage, damage to the spinal cord…

This ‘alpha’ is a fucking idiot

The answer needs to be the firmest possible “no”, and if he doesn’t accept that, then it needs to be “goodbye”. I don’t care if he’s Dr. Fucking Frankenstein and he reanimates dead people every single day – the answer needs to be NO.

Honestly, your refusal is as much a protection for HIM as it is for you. By refusing, you’re preventing him from any chance of becoming a murderer. 

I cannot stress this enough. Your life is in danger. Take action immediately. 

Love,

sam the faggot 

Have a question? CLICK HERE to ask!

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!

This is part of a thread chronicling Master Con, a young Alpha in university in the UK. CLICK HERE to read all posts in this thread in chronological order!

Stupid Alphas talk about faggots in such ugly and demeaning ways. They shame faggots, abuse them, and humiliate them publicly. They call faggots “worthless” even when they’re taking outrageous amounts of money from them.

These Alphas are rightly called “stupid” because they fail to embrace the deep truth of Hierarchy and the symbiotic power exchange that underscores the Master/faggot relationship. Only a moron would derive power from a beneficial relationship and then fail to appreciate it!

There are sadistic Alphas out there who actually tell their faggots that they don’t care if the faggot dies! I’m not even sure how to classify such Men (I certainly don’t consider that the attitude of a superior Man) who lack any empathy or hold any affection for a valuable possession like a faggot that lives to serve faithfully and wants only its Master’s approval. It’s baffling.

This is why I’m always encouraging faggots to serve truly good Protector Alphas who value their devoted servants. These truly superior Men exemplify godly qualities befitting a lofty title like “Alpha” or “Master”.

Master Con (@MasterConFeet on X) is one such Alpha.

I’ve come to deeply respect Master Con over the last few years. Despite being young, he’s become a wildly successful businessman who now owns two private jets in addition to all of the splendor appropriate for an Alpha like him. I’ve been privileged to work with him to try and rescue gay kids from the Middle East (he was inspired by my rescue of Baby Boy), and I was recently involved in helping Master Con acquire a faggot from the States named Nick. Everything Master Con does he does with a desire to use his great power and wealth not only to better his own life, but also to right the wrongs he sees in the lives of inferiors and the weak.

In other words, Master Con is a natural leader who leads with a just and moral heart.

And so, as one of Master Con’s remote faggots, I was greatly distressed when I learned about the unexpected passing of Master Con’s very first faggot Charley at the age of just 20 years old.

Here’s the statement Master Con released about it:

Death is incomprehensible and devastating anytime it comes, but when it takes someone young and full of life like Charley, it leaves everyone in a state of inconsolable shock.

Then add to that shock the loss of possibly the most dynamic relationship an Alpha can have. It’s hard to quantify all of the things Master Con learned about his place and power in this world by owning Charley, and I guarantee Charley was grateful everyday for the way Master Con trained him and taught him and protected him.

Through their Hierarchical relationship as Master and faggot, Master Con and Charley grew together like two trees side-by-side until they had become one and were delicately intertwined.

And now that Charley is gone, Master Con mourns.

He is not afraid or ashamed to mourn the loss of his beloved first faggot. He wants the world to see the anguish and sorrow over his “good boy”. Charley’s faithful submission filled Master Con with pride. Why? Because that good faggot Charlie belonged to HIM ALONE, and Charley’s good example added praise and prestige on Master Con’s name.

Mourning that loss doesn’t lessen Master Con either as a Man or an Alpha. No, in fact, it ELEVATES him above the rest! By sharing his pain, he reveals the kind of qualities anyone would want in a King. He learned those qualities in part through the ownership of good faggots like Charley, and he never forgets that.

It’s too bad so many Alphas out there are too stupid to understand that as well!

To my wonderful Master Con, my heart goes out to you, Master. I’m so sorry for the loss of your dear Charley!

Yours,

sam the faggot

The great Val Kilmer has died! 💔

He played a string of iconic Alpha characters in his life, from Iceman in TOP GUN to Jim Morrison in THE DOORS to Bruce Wayne in BATMAN FOREVER.

But his Alpha charisma absolutely transformed legendary Western outlaw Doc Holliday into an unforgettable embodiment of Sigma Alpha magnetism in 1994’s TOMBSTONE. It might still be the most quotable performance of all time.

His long, brave battle with throat cancer culminated in his final film appearance in 2022’s TOP GUN MAVERICK. Though clearly struggling, Kilmer soldiered through it with great dignity.

Goodbye, Val. You’ll always be our Huckleberry!

You may remember my interview with Master Alex (@AlphaGodAlex) on the Hierarchy Podcast (HERE) some time ago. Master Alex was a tough interview because he’s such an emotionally-reserved Alpha, not prone to showing how he truly feels about anything. In fact, it’s that quality about him (aside from the physical) that probably attracts so many faggots to him. He’s that stern taskmaster faggots love to serve.

But Master Alex showed something on his Twitter feed today that I never imagined I’d see from him – true and deeply-felt heartbreak for one of his dying faggots.

It’s so easy for straight Alphas to make money off of the loyal devotion of faggots. Show off their feet, flip off the camera, say degrading things to them. The faggots keep coming back for more, eagerly dropping handfuls of cash before them.

Findom isn’t about love. It’s about domination. Hierarchy isn’t a place for sentimentality, especially when it involves a straight Alpha and the faggot that he owns.

Yet, in the end, Alphas have feelings. When they lose something valuable and personal, they mourn. They honor that loss.

Master Alex honored his faithful faggot publicly, showing all Alphas how they should cherish their property and show respect. This is the leadership every Alpha should provide in their lives!

After a lifetime receiving tributes, Master Alex gave this lasting tribute to his fallen faggot.

To all of my brothers, just remember that your Alphas and Masters can and do appreciate your worship and service more than you know!