The evolution of fag rich – Step Two
For the sake of preservation, this thread endeavors to recreate the legendary Tumblr blog str8guys4fags2serve. Written by a young God Alpha named “Jake”, its bluntly honest revelations form the bedrock of Hierarchical truth found on this website and all others. I thank Master Jake for sharing his wisdom. This thread is a tribute to you, Sir. CLICK HERE for all of these posts in chronological order!
‘Children should be seen but not heard.“
My grandmother used to say that a lot (which probably explains my own parents’ attitude toward me – total avoidance of any involvement in my life and my activities, – as I previously have written).
Well now that fag rich is spending virtually all of his time in my apartment I have come to see my grandma’s wisdom: “fags should be seen but not heard”.
The reasoning behind my wanting fag rich to move into my apartment were multi-fold:
First, it would make the fag available to serve me at any time and for any reason. Bring me a beer. Change my bed linens after I finished fucking this hot chick and threw her out because they are all tangled and cum-stained. Suck my dick. Scrub the kitchen floor at 3:00am.
Second, I saw the fag’s near constant presence as a means of increasing the ways in which it could serve and the opportunities for service.
Most important, I saw this as the next logical step in my campaign to make me and its service to me the most significant and important thing in its life – eventually, as the only meaningful thing in its life.
But, alas, having the bitch around and underfoot constantly is also kind of creepy. The fact of the matter is that while it exists solely to serve me (well, not yet, really, but that state of existence is coming), it is not my job in life to constantly attend to its needs, whether its need is for more and more training and more and more reassurance that it is doing right, or whether its need is to have its hole (which is starting to twitch constantly and to become an insatiable pit) stuffed.
So I pondered a solution to the problem – how to keep the bitch close and available but out of the way and not in my face constantly. A buddy, an aficionado of internet porn, suggested a cage. But frankly, that scares me. I lock the bitch in a cage and go out on a date and the building burns down and roasts fag rich. More significantly, I want that beer, or I want my bed linens changed, or I just want to torture it a little or have my dick sucked. What am I gonna do? Walk over and unlock its cage? That doesn’t make sense.
So I finally decided on an old fashioned solution: slave quarters, or the modern urban version. These old apartments, laid out for living in a different era, work perfectly . Off the kitchen in my apartment is a small bedroom, obviously intended for a maid, with a tiny bathroom. I made the kitchen, that tiny bedroom, that tiny bath and the adjacent laundry room the slave’s quarters. the fag lives there, sleeps there, goes there whenever it is in my apartment, and stays there unless it is doing its chores or responding to my needs. And it says nothing, speaks not, makes no noise of any kind unless spoken to.
Now, to make this really work, I am looking for some kind of collar or ankle bracelet that is electronically charged, and that would give it a minor electrical shock when I pressed a button an a device so that I could summon it from the slave quarters when I needed it. I am sure there is such a device available on the market.
