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!
