The following post is part of a thread chronicling the service of a Brazilian faggot named Marcus who was first enslaved by a 14-year-old straight Alpha named Lion, and it continues years later! CLICK HERE to read all of these posts in chronological order!
The other day I published a pretty alarming story of fag Marcus being used abusively by his 21-year-old Master, Alpha Lion, and Master Lion’s 18-year-old Alpha cousin. Some of the details on that weekend were grim enough to be dangerous.
But more interesting than that was what we learned about Master Lion. Despite his young age, he seemed to effortlessly command people older than him without a second thought. He proved to be bold and decisive, and everyone around him obeyed without question.
I thought the account Marcos sent was quite enough, but there’s a second part to the story that’s even wilder than the first! Read it:
Hi, Sam.
Thanks for the valuable advice you gave me. I confess I was already doing exactly what you said (staying silent and waiting) even before reading your post, because the events of that first night—which I described in my last post—and what followed (which I’m sharing today; I wrote it all at once but it got too long, so I split it up) made me realize something different was going on with my Master.
Picking up where I left off: after the girls stated they were at Yuri’s (a pseudonym) disposal, he and the Master sat down. One of the girls put on some stripper music and they began to undress. From where I was standing, I could see the two Alphas looking relaxed; one girl danced on the table while the others waited, sitting on the floor nearby. When they finished undressing, they’d sit next to the men, who would casually drape their arms around them and grab their breasts. Only when they were all naked did the cousin ask how they would split the girls up. The Master replied, “Why split them up?” noting that they were all at the cousin’s disposal—he should just pick the two he wanted and rotate between them throughout the night. The cousin asked which one was the best, and the Master replied that he had chosen his best-behaved girls and they were all good enough, though each had a specific strength. He pointed them out: “This one gives the best blowjob, this one has a super-wet pussy, this one has a tight, gripping ass, and this one can handle really rough fucking.” The cousin then said he wanted the one with the best ass, since his girlfriend is religious and won’t do anal. The Master told him not to worry about that, as they had all been instructed to do *everything* he ordered, so he’d have four tight little asses to have fun with. The Master stripped off his clothes, took the his girls to his armchair, and had them suck him off while he watched his cousin. The cousin ordered them to undress him, and one of the girls made the mistake of dropping his belt buckle on the floor. He gave her a sharp slap on the head and told her to show more respect for his buckle (in the days that followed, I saw that he was really into the whole cowboy thing). He pulled the other girl onto his lap to kiss her and left the one who had messed up on the floor, having her take off his clothes and fold them. When she removed his underwear, what stood out most wasn’t his penis—which was the same size as the Master’s, just a bit thinner—but the massive amount of body hair. Because of the heat here in Rio, the Master would sometimes trim his hair a little, but the cousin clearly had never done anything of the sort; he was *incredibly* hairy. If his penis had been small, it might have gotten lost in there. Once he was completely naked, he sat down and ordered the two girls to lick him. They approached but then hesitated and pulled back; looking at the Master, he said:
“Didn’t you say they’d do whatever I wanted?”
The Master looked at the girls and said:
“They will.”
He looked at the girls and shouted, “Get to it, goddammit!”
It actually startled me, since the Master doesn’t usually shout. The girls did too; they quickly obeyed the order, though they didn’t look too happy about it (that’s when I remembered cousin saying he hadn’t had a decent shower in four days—and with that much body hair, he probably didn’t smell too pleasant, at least not to women).
The two men then put their arms behind their heads and started chatting about past hookups, parties, and personal memories, while the four girls sucked their huge cocks.
After a while, the Master ordered me to get some beers, and I rushed to do it as subserviently as possible to please him. When I handed over the beers, the cousin asked if I was just going to stand there watching them fuck. The Master then ordered me back to the corner to face the wall. I could only hear everyone moaning, unless I was called to fetch cigarettes (for the cousin) or beer, at which point I could catch a quick glimpse of what they were doing. I realized then that an alpha competition was playing out: whenever the Master stepped on a girl’s head, the cousin did the same; when one fucked their throats, the other did too; and even when the Master fucked one girl while having another lick his ass, the cousin followed suit.
At one point, when I brought several sandwiches for the two of them, I realized I hadn’t eaten since waking up—having had to prepare the Master’s coffee and the banquet before heading to the airport. I asked the Master if I could step away to eat something, but, fueled by that competitive adrenaline, he just looked at the cousin, told me to shut my mouth, and ordered me back to the corner. It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth time after that that he asked if my stomach was still empty; he smiled arrogantly at the cousin and said to me:
“Come fill it up, then, faggot.”
He made me kneel and pissed liters of beer into my mouth.
I went back to the corner, facing the wall, and could… feeling my stomach heavy and letting out small burps that smelled like piss, which I quickly swallowed so as not to making noise and disturbing the Master.
After about two hours, the Master called me over again and asked if my stomach had emptied. Afraid he might order me to drink the cousin’s piss, I said no; however, he told me that his bladder was full of piss again regardless. So, obediently, I bent down to drink a second cascade of urine. All the while he was pissing into my mouth, he kept looking at the cousin with a smug expression.
Afterward, he dismissed me, telling me to go eat and also feed his fiancée in her room. Then, I was to fold and put away the cousin’s things and go to sleep.
It wasn’t until morning that I was woken by a blow to the face; when I looked up, it was the cousin who had struck me with the sole of his foot. He asked if I thought it was right for him to sleep on the same level as a slave and hauled me onto the floor. The Master stood in the doorway watching as the cousin shoved me under his bed—alongside boxes, his shoes, and a blue suitcase full of dirty laundry—and ordered one of the girls to spread some blankets from the bed down to the floor.
And so, I slept for a while longer, “trapped” in a makeshift, stinking hovel.
It might seem like a miserable life and that the two of them are terrible people, but today—while I was waiting for them outside a party to act as their driver and take them to some lucky girl’s house—I was writing this message to you. The Master appeared and asked what I was doing. I showed it to him; at first, he was quite angry that I was writing about him without permission and started scolding me, saying he would punish me. But after reading how I write about him with such reverence, and seeing how respectful you were, he decided I could keep messaging you. He also explained to me that neither you nor I—since we aren’t “real men”—know anything about cars, and that I was never in serious danger because his car (a BMW X3) has an air passage between the cabin and the trunk, which he made sure to keep open. He would never allow anyone to cause me fatal harm (bearing in mind that he literally saved my life) or permanent injury, as I am one of his most prized possessions (I took that as a declaration of love).
He told me that he and his cousin have competed since childhood over who plays better, who climbs the highest tree, who crosses the river first, and so on. He said I might have to suffer a bit more than the usual faggot while he’s here, but that whenever I suffer in silence and keep obeying, it shows his cousin just what a powerful man the Master is. So, I have to get used to it and view it as a form of devotion to him.
I don’t know when I’ll be able to write to you again, as the coming days will be tough, but I’ll be back soon to talk more with my friend and mentor, faggot Sam.
Fag Marcus.
Marcus does such a great job serving Master Lion. I’m so impressed by how well he handles every twisted and sadistic turn his young Master throws at him! I mean, he drank piss on command twice without being anywhere near prepared for it! He worked hard during a long night of being used! It’s not always easy to be an owned faggot!
I was overjoyed when Marcus told me about being discovered writing to me, and that Master Lion read and approved of my documenting this situation! I always like for the Masters of the faggots who write to me to know their faggots are doing it, because this can lead to greater education in hierarchical truth.
I loved the detail that Master Lion and his cousin have always competitively fought all of their lives. Marcus correctly identified it as Alpha dominance battles. Alphas always play “King of the hill” games because that dominance born within them drives them to conquer from an early age. Yet Master Lion was fighting for dominance even then … and winning!
Master Lion is clearly an unstoppable force, a God Alpha who probably deserves to own a mansion with ten faggots worshiping and serving as in-house slaves. He’s that type of Alpha, the legendary ones who inspire legions of faggots to instantly submit and countless women to beg for breeding. His is a blessed life, and we are fortunate to be getting a first glimpse of his glory rising over the land. His land.
Thank you, Marcus, for sharing your experiences of service to this once-in-a-generation King!
Love,
sam the faggot
