I lost my anal virginity when I was raped at knifepoint at the age of 20.

Prior to that, I had only orally served one Alpha (my best friend at the time) as well as several younger guys my age and some creepy older guys I met through personals and other means.

One Saturday night I attended a huge 21st birthday party for a friend-of-a-friend. More than 150 kids were stuffed into this small reception hall, their sweaty, drug-and-alcohol fueled bodies writhing to thumping club music. It was yet another distasteful example of wealthy parents doing too much to spoil an ignorant kid.

Clubs have never been my scene (I’m much more of a laid-back sports bar or dive kind of fag), so I was largely disinterested in the faux-club atmosphere at the party. Additionally, I didn’t want to get too drunk and start dancing, which would be a dead giveaway to my faggish tendencies. So I chose to hang along the perimeter of the party, making idle chit-chat and slowly drinking draft beer. Soon, my friends (the guys who actually knew the Birthday Boy) were off trying to pick up chicks, leaving me to wander aimlessly through the crowd.

I was just getting bored enough to leave when I made eye contact with a tall, muscular black guy. He wasn’t thuggish like some of the other black guys in attendance; he wore nice jeans (actually pulled up over his ass!) and a plaid shirt stretched tightly over his impressive pecs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

To my utter astonishment, he came over to me and introduced himself as “Kenny.” He said he was 22 years old and just finishing a Business major (aren’t they all?) at an out-of-state college. I barely heard anything he said because I was transfixed by his dark, deeply-set eyes, his wet, kissable lips, and his bright white teeth.

Kenny looked a bit like this (with less upper body development):

We talked about sports (we both love baseball) and movies, mostly. We also had a few laughs making fun of the painful dance moves of several drunk white boys. The conversation was easy, relaxed, and nothing remotely sexual. In fact, I figured Kenny was just talking to me to pass the time.

Then, as he was leaving, he came up to me. “Hey man, you got a phone number? Maybe we can hang out sometime,” said Kenny.

“Uh … uh … sure,” I stuttered excitedly. After retrieving a pen from a nearby girl, I quickly wrote my number down on a monogrammed napkin and handed it to Kenny.

“Thanks, man. Great meeting you,” Kenny said as he turned to leave.

My blood was pumping so hard I thought I might pass out. “You too,” was all I could squeak out in response.

Torturous days passed without a phone call. Then a week. By the second week, I had slumped into a depressive state with derogatory self-dialogues: Yeah, right, like he would be interested in you. You’re disgusting, and he’s a god. You could never get a man like him. 

Then, that second Friday after the party, my phone rang around 5pm. It was Kenny.

“What are you doing tonight?” Kenny asked.

“Just hanging around my apartment. No plans,” I answered in the most nonchalant way possible.

“How ‘bout I come over and we hang out for a while?” he suggested.

“Uh … sounds good.”

I hurriedly cleaned my apartment. I had only been living on my own for a few months at this point, but it’s amazing how dirty a 20 year old guy can be when he lives alone. Fortunately, I finished the cleanup just before Kenny knocked on my door.

When I opened the door, there he stood looking even more amazing than he did at the party. Shined-up black dress shoes, tight blue jeans, a tucked-in black Oxford shirt unbuttoned just enough to expose his chest and a brilliant silver necklace. He was breathtaking.

I made a couple of drinks (rum and Coke) and we sat on opposite ends of the couch. We talked about the party, random stuff. It wasn’t a sexy conversation at all.

However, I couldn’t stop staring at his body; his chest, his long torso, his narrow hips, his arms. I hadn’t been in the presence of an Alpha like this since my high school best friend, and it was more intoxicating than the drinks.

I think Kenny saw how much I admired his body, and he liked the adoration. Soon, Kenny’s dick was visibly erect and running down his left leg. Kenny put his left hand over it, both as a disguise and as a way to rub on it. Of course, I caught that action immediately, and I found myself staring at it uncontrollably.

Finally, Kenny abruptly broke the ice.

“You like that, huh?” he said, rubbing his dick a bit more obviously. I nodded, almost unable to speak.

“You want to suck my dick?” Kenny asked. I looked at him, unsure of what I should do.

“Come here,” he commanded gently. I began to scoot over to him on the couch.

“Get down on your knees,” he commanded, a bit more roughly. I complied.

Kenny unzipped his pants and pulled them down. His enormous cock flopped back and onto his stomach. Kenny’s big right hand grabbed my head, pulling me close to his dick as his left hand positioned it upwards. Then Kenny pushed my head down on it.

Fortunately my high school Alpha had a very large cock, so I was already trained for Men of that size. I think this surprised Kenny, who suddenly realized that he had a skilled cocksucker between his legs. Kenny became more aggressive, pushing my head down on him and forcing me to gag. My eyes started to tear up.

As I sucked him, Kenny undid the buttons of his shirt and removed it. I looked up at his flat, sculpted abs and defined chest. I began to run my hands across his lean torso, an act of worship that Kenny seemed to really like. He began to moan loudly, which only turned me on even more.

No matter what I did, though, I couldn’t get Kenny to cum. My sucking only seemed to make him more aggressive, but it didn’t do the trick. I was getting frustrated.

Then Kenny gave me another order. “Take off your pants, bitch.”

I undid my pants and pushed them down over my ass. Kenny reached over me and slid a finger inside me. “Ooh, shit, that’s tight.”

Before that moment, the only thing that had ever been in my ass was my own finger. Kenny’s finger probing me felt great, but I was also terrified because I hadn’t prepared myself for anal sex – I thought Kenny was just another guy I had no chance of landing. Now, suddenly, it seemed that Kenny was prepared for more than I ever intended.

Kenny pulled my head off of his cock, one hand sliding down around the back of my neck. He pushed me down onto my stomach as he crawled on top of me. I could feel his cock pressed between my ass cheeks. He pinned me to the floor, kissing my neck as he gyrated on top of me.

“Do you have condoms?” I asked, breaking the mood.

Above me, I could feel Kenny’s demeanor change. “No, do you?” he asked.

“No, I don’t,” I replied, thinking that would be the end of the issue.

I could feel Kenny reach down, moving his hips until the head of his cock pressed against my virgin asshole. “It feels better without a condom anyway,” he added.

Now I was in trouble. Kenny started to push in, and the pain of his entry paralyzed me. It also scared me. I started to resist, forcefully crawling away from his dick. Kenny tried whatever he could to get it back in.

Finally, Kenny climbed off of me. When i turned and looked up, Kenny was angrier than I could’ve imagined.

“What the fuck, man? Why suck my dick if you aren’t wanting to get fucked?” Kenny yelled. I didn’t really have an answer.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never done that before. It hurts.” I said, searching for an excuse.

Kenny looked at me pathetically. “Fuck this, man,” he mumbled as he went into my kitchen.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I rested my head on the carpet. I felt like I had just escaped from a terrible situation.

Then a flash as Kenny punched me in the head, slamming my face into the floor. Before I could even breathe, the large butcher knife from my kitchen was at my throat. Kenny’s body was again on top of me, his legs pinning mine.

“Fucking bitch!”

While holding the knife at my throat, Kenny used his other hand to position his cock at my asshole. Without any preparation, Kenny jammed it all the way into me, causing me to scream out in pain.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kenny hissed as he pressed himself into me, his mouth at my ear.

“Shut the fuck up and take it.”

Kenny fucked me hard and fast, grunting aggressively. It seemed like forever. I didn’t move; I was too terrified that I might be cut by the blade at my neck.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fucking tight.”

Finally, Kenny starting pounding on me even harder.

“Oh, fuck. Here you go bitch,” Kenny moaned as he unloaded in me. I could feel his cock pulse as he held it in me.

After Kenny finished, he pulled out. He pulled the knife away from my throat, but I was too terrified to move. I kept my face on the floor, hidden by my arms.

Kenny dressed wordlessly and left. After the door closed, I jumped up and raced over to lock it. I turned and looked at my apartment; it felt different. I could see the butcher knife laying on the kitchen table. There were spots of blood on the carpet where Kenny had punctured me. I stood there forever just staring, trying to process what had happened. In some ways, I’m still processing it.

I spent the next couple of years doing drugs, drinking too much, and even trying religion. I wanted to find some way to cope with not only the rape, but what the rape had exposed within me: that I am a faggot. It was a difficult time of denial and self discovery.

EPILOGUE

I didn’t hear or see Kenny again for a few years (I didn’t have his number or even know his last name). Then one afternoon Kenny called me. His tone was quiet, forlorn. He said he was sorry for what happened, that he was in a bad place at that time and didn’t mean to hurt me.

He wanted to know if I was okay. I told him that I was okay and that I had forgiven him. He asked to see me again, an invitation I politely declined. He seemed to understand and accept this.

Even today, I don’t blame Kenny for what happened. I’ve been around enough Men to know that this is part of their nature. Please keep in mind that I’m not excusing rape, because rape is a terrible violation of another person’s self-respect and free will. However, Men have these kinds of urges, and anyone unwilling to comply with those urges need to take care in how they deal with Men.

I’ve seen a lot of fantasy rape scenarios tossed around Tumblr. I do think they’re so popular on gay porn Tumblrs precisely because Men understand the urges of other Men so intimately. What would be absolutely devastating to a Woman is often shrugged off as “eh, that’s how guys are” by Men. There is some truth to that. After the fact, I actually respected Kenny to some degree for following his natural way. Does that make any sense?

In any event, my rape taught me much about myself, truths pleasant and unpleasant. While I wish I could completely erase the experience, I am in some ways grateful for the things I learned from it.

servingsuperiormen:

alphamalenyc:

I don’t understand how anyone can read My blog and send Me shit like this. But I get these “I have this fantasy can you and your buddies make it happen” emails almost everyday. To be clear;

I don’t give a shit about faggot fantasies. I’m only interested in faggots who have their shit together, know their place and have fully accepted it, and have a deep desire to serve ALPHA men in any way those men see fit. One day ur running errands, the next ur a footstool during a game, next a urinal and so on. There is no script. Just service. And any true faggot should feel lucky it gets to be the one who does it.

“I don’t give a shit about faggot fantasies.   I’m only interested in
faggots who  .  .  .   have a deep desire to serve ALPHA men in any way those
men see fit.”  

– alphamalenyc 

This goes back to what I’ve been saying all along: being a faggot isn’t some fetish or weekend retreat fantasy. A faggot simply IS a faggot. We serve Men at all times in any way possible. That is our sole purpose.

So fellow fags, stop bothering Alphas with your fantasies and start serving them instead. 

So negotiations continue with the multiple Alphas I’ve been talking with recently. I wanted to provide a quick update.

ALPHA #1 (I first discussed him here) – I’m going to name this guy Peter so I can stop referring to him as “Alpha #1″ (see below). In my last update (here) things didn’t seem to be going in the right direction. I hadn’t heard from him in days, and I figured that this straight Alpha with almost no experience had changed his mind.

Then I received a text out of nowhere two days ago from Peter telling me that he might need me on my knees servicing him soon. He said he’s been very busy with work and hasn’t had much free time to use me. I suppose that’s going to change soon. 

Peter also sent me another picture of his enormous cock. He’s sent me several pics of it already, but this one made my mouth water. 

After he sent it, he told me that he intends to fuck my throat with it. HELL YES. I guess you can see why I’m much more interested in Peter.

ALPHA #2 (I first discussed him here) – As discussions were seemingly at a standstill with Peter, I continued talking to Alpha #2. As I said before, he seems a bit too sadistic for my tastes. When I didn’t show much enthusiasm for immediate chastity, he suddenly stopped talking to me. I’ve sent a couple of friendly, flirty messages without any response. So I’m guessing that situation is officially done.

AN UPDATE ON GLENN

Last week a heterosexual salesman at work named Glenn made a sudden move to possibly start using me (I excitedly wrote about that here). Believe me, I was anxious to see him again this week. 

Glenn finally showed up at the office Tuesday. I practically ran up to him, but it was immediately apparent that his demeanor was much quieter, calmer. I asked him about his weekend, and he told me that he went out on a date with his ex-girlfriend. My heart dropped.

“So … you’re back together with her?” I asked, obviously bummed.

“Yep, I guess so,” mumbled Glenn, barely looking at me.

I didn’t know what to say. I could see the situation slipping away.

Then, after a pause, Glenn added, “But she still won’t suck my big dick, though.” 

My body tensed. “Well, I thought that was my job anyway,” I answered flirtatiously. 

Glenn smiled slyly. He opened his mouth and started to say “Yeah,” but a co-worker walked up and joined the conversation before it could go any farther.

So I began to get used to the idea that it just wasn’t going to happen. 

Then, later that afternoon, I was notified that I won a contest Glenn had encouraged me to enter several weeks ago. The perfect chance to talk to him! So I texted him about winning the prize. Glenn immediately called me back.

“You got to be kidding me!” Glenn said, laughing.

“Seriously, I can’t believe this! Thank you so much!” I yelled back enthusiastically.

Glenn’s voice suddenly lowered. “You know this means you owe me, right?” he asked.

I smiled. “Of course.”

“You gonna give me that deep throat, right?” Glenn purred into the phone.

I gulped. “It’s all yours. You know that.”

“Damn right.”

Who knows where this is going, but it sure is fun going there!

servingsuperiormen:

“I think there are a great number of faggots whose lives would be improved immensely if they could be brought under the domination and control of an Alpha Man.   Regrettably, there are just not enough Alphas to go around and to bring every faggot under such control.  .  .  .  The lives of so many faggots would be immeasurably improved if they understood and accepted what they are.”

– Str8Guy4fags2serve

While I’ve been a faggot most of my adult life, I only recently discovered the online phenomenon of cash domination. Thanks to the Internet, dominant people have been able to control the lives of submissives in different parts of the world via cash domination. In this scenario, the submissive gives money to their dominant Owner (usually via PayPal or Amazon), often in exchange for pictures/videos of the dominant Owner’s body parts or verbal humiliation. So the dominant Owner enjoys the money and the worship, while the submissive receives the negative reinforcement feedback they often crave and expect.

I decided to experiment with this lifestyle over the summer. While most of my experiences were terrible, I can say that some of my experiences were surprisingly exhilarating.

After spending some time digesting certain websites set up by Cash Masters (like Cash Master Jax) and trying to figure out the lifestyle, I got on the instant messaging app Kik and looked around for groups catering to the Cash Master/Cash Fag dynamic. To my surprise, there were quite a few groups available, so I joined all of them.

Almost instantly I was assaulted (yes, that’s how I would describe it) by ignorant “Alpha” males who would greet me with insults (”Hey, you fucking faggot” and stuff like that) and immediately demand money from me. I was apoplectic. Was this really how it works in the cash domination business? Do fags really give their hard-earned money to abusive scum who don’t even have the guts to show a picture before angrily demanding to be paid?

After several such encounters, I was ready to call it quits when I was contacted by a guy named Chris from Australia. Unlike the other so-called “Alphas” who had abused me, Chris was firm and confident, but also engaging. He reinforced my place as a fag, accepted me for what I am, but still took some time to help me accept our different roles. He also showed patience as he navigated my mind and learned what makes me tick.

And then, like any Alpha, he moved in to take my cherry.

It started off innocently enough. He simply said, “Are you ready to give me what I deserve?” By then, I was practically drooling over the guy. So he told me to send him $25 via PayPal, and I complied. My heart was racing as I hit the “send” button, knowing that I was giving a complete stranger control over me and my money. And I know that Chris was being satisfied on the other end of the transaction, another big thrill for me. After he received my tribute, he told me I was a good boy and that I was now his fag.

But a funny thing happened then. PayPal sent me Chris’ full name in the receipt, so I decided to investigate his real identity. Within minutes I found his online information, including a wealth of older pictures much different from the avatar photograph he used while talking with me. From these pictures, it was clear that Chris lied to me about both his physical appearance and his lifestyle in general. Frustrated, I blocked Chris and haven’t talked to him again.

This type of scenario happened a few times, with each fake “Alpha” using phony pictures or invented stories about themselves to lure desperate fags into cash domination. After several encounters, I came to the conclusion that the scene wasn’t for me.

Then I met Santi, a young Alpha male from Britain.

When Santi first messaged me, I immediately fell in love with his avatar pic (a shot of his gorgeous legs and feet) because it reminded me of a Man I once loved. At first, Santi addressed me as “faggot” and such, but never in an abusive way. Santi was very direct with me, and forced me to be honest with him in multiple ways (including live photographs and such) that exposed me in ways I didn’t expect. I spent much of our initial encounters nervous and anxious as Santi broke down certain emotional barriers. It was a difficult time.

Then one day Santi pulled me into a group chat with his personal friend, a guy named Ben who was skilled at dealing with cash fags. Santi watched as Ben abused me and forced me to pay him $120. Santi told me that, if I wanted to serve him, I had to pay his friend the money. So I did, but I did so practically in tears. I felt so awful because Santi acted so harshly with me in front of his friend, something I didn’t expect from him after we had built up a measure of trust.

Being the intuitive Man he is, Santi immediately sensed my distress and the ugliness of Ben’s behavior. While Santi believes he deserves the worship of fags (and he certainly does), cruelty isn’t really part of his nature. When Santi saw his fag being abused, he became protective of his property. It was an interesting moment in our relationship. 

Since then, I have had the privilege of serving Santi financially on multiple occasions. Santi is never cruel to me, but he expects my loyalty and service as his right as a Man. I give him that willingly, but I now also serve him with my mind and heart. Regardless of my life or any Man I might serve in my personal life, I will always serve Santi. He is the kind of Alpha who deserves my worship.

The other night I spontaneously sent Santi some money without being told to do it. I just really wanted to surprise him and make him smile. It wasn’t about being abused or being forced by aggressive tactics or blackmail. Instead, it was about a faggot loving and serving a real Man and giving Him the kind of worship He deserves. 

So in the end, I’m not only a fag, but also a cash fag. However, it doesn’t seem so ugly and humiliating anymore.

While I realize there are a number of Tumblr blogs out there glorifying Dad/son or brother/brother sexual situations, mine is not one of them. Most states have laws forbidding such situations – have you looked up the laws in your area? Also, while I understand some people have rape fantasies/fetishes, it is also illegal in most places. So given the potentially illegal nature of your questions, I refuse to advise you about this matter beyond what the law states. I do think you should seek some sort of help, though, since what your’e describing is potentially harmful for multiple reasons.

Hi fellow fag! Thank you for the nice words!

As for your desire to be used and abused … WOULDN’T WE ALL LIKE THAT? Since you live in Rome, Italy, you’re probably surrounded by one of the highest concentrations of Alpha males in the world. There should be plenty of Men to serve.

I would add this: we fags often fetishize “young Masters” because (a) young bodies are firmer and generally more attractive, and (b) they more closely remind us of the bullies who picked on us when we were young. However, many older Masters and Alphas have the kind of experience and firmness that many faggots crave. Don’t discount a Man based on His age.

Thanks again!

In a recent article titled “The Dance” I discussed two potential straight Alphas I wanted to serve. While negotiations continue with Alpha #2 (the nerdy muscle skinhead), it seems that Alpha #1 might be just a tad too nervous to actually accept having a full-time fag serve His giant cock. That bummed me out, because I really wanted Alpha #1 more.

But now a new Alpha has (possibly) come into the picture, one I never expected to be interested in being served by a fag like me. Let me tell you a developing story about an Alpha named Glenn.

I’ve known Glenn for almost two years; he’s a salesman who periodically (two times a week) services my office. Glenn is a 31 year-old light-skinned black Man with a razor-like intellect, a bright, easy smile, and enough confidence to power a small city. And, like many Alphas, Glenn is wildly ambitious; in addition to his sales job, he also owns a successful cleaning business and is partnered in a successful catering service. 

I was instantly attracted to Glenn. Physically, Glenn looks like this guy if you could somehow mix a little Chris Tucker into him:

Of course, like most fags, I was also drawn in by Glenn’s intoxicating confidence. Glenn was never shy about his conquests, often bragging about his beautiful live-in girlfriend and the bevy of side chicks he visited regularly. Our conversations were often interrupted by texts from these girls, begging for Glenn’s cock. He loved to flaunt this in front of me and the other guys in the office, although I think I was the only one jealous of the girls. 

However, I kept my feelings in check because (a) I am not “out” at work, and (b) I respected Glenn’s prolific heterosexuality. I really treasured our lively, work-related friendship, and didn’t want to risk it by being too much of a faggot.

Then one afternoon Glenn was telling the guys about a particularly rough night of sex. The guys were hanging on every word, laughing and commenting as Glenn described pinning and spanking his latest whore. I shrunk back, quietly digesting the information and attempting to disguise my lust.

Then, suddenly, Glenn broke my concentration. “I bet you like to get manhandled too, don’t you?” he asked me, a big, greedy smile spreading across his face. 

The guys in the office started laughing, but Glenn immediately noticed I wasn’t laughing. Instead, I lost my breath and chuckled incredulously. How did he know? I turned several shades of red and couldn’t make eye contact with anybody.

Later, when we were alone, Glenn brought the subject up again. “I hit a nerve earlier, huh?” he asked playfully.

I didn’t know what to say, but, for whatever reason, I decided to tell the truth. “How did you know?” I stammered.

Glenn smiled wickedly. “I just knew.”

After that day, Glenn started making certain demands. He told me he wanted me to start making him food on days he was scheduled to visit (people at the office told him I could cook). For instance, one week he told me to make him lasagna for lunch. The next week it was chili. Then the next week he wanted to try my blueberry pie. I absolutely loved doing this, as we all know the key to a Man’s cock is through His stomach. Fortunately, Glenn loved my food.

It was around this time that Glenn’s live-in girlfriend learned about his many infidelities and left him. It was a tough time, and Glenn was clearly frustrated. Still, he is too confident and positive to let a rough situation bring him down, and soon Glenn was back to projecting his typically forceful Alpha personality.

However, our friendship had subtly changed after his “manhandling” comment and my subsequent reaction (serving him food). I noticed that Glenn seemed more possessive of me after that, and he would occasionally (in a joking manner) reprimand me for paying attention to other people more than him. I never thought much of it, because guys make jokes like that all the time and it never means anything.

However, last week I was absolutely and unabashedly flirting with this tall, blonde muscle jock salesperson. I couldn’t help myself; the kid is heart-stoppingly beautiful (he looks a lot like a blonde muscular version of Jared Leto). It was all I could to keep myself from dropping to my knees right there in the middle of the office.

Unbeknownst to me, Glenn was in another part of the office observing my behavior. Typically, I make a beeline for Glenn whenever he visits, but this time I was too distracted by this friendly Adonis to notice Glenn nearby.

When the Adonis left, Glenn came over to me. “Uh huh … I saw that,” Glenn growled playfully.

I feigned ignorance, but my smile uncovered the truth. “What? What did I do?” I asked.

Glenn got into my face. “Don’t you be talking to other guys right in front of me like that, flirting and shit,” he said, firmly. My heart skipped a beat. 

Glenn turned to leave, adding, “Do that again, and I’ll just have to beat your ass.”   

I didn’t know what to make of it. Up to this point, I figured Glenn was just a heterosexual dude who selfishly liked receiving attention. But now he seemed to be staking out some territory.

I didn’t see Glenn again until this morning. In the intervening week I had forgotten about Glenn’s sudden burst of frustration over my behavior, and I approached him with the same warm smile as always. Glenn, however, wasn’t smiling.

“Don’t even do that … I’m still pissed at you ‘bout last week,” Glenn said, half-joking. 

I suddenly remembered my infraction, and giggled loudly as I wrapped an arm around him. “Aw, I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” I replied, sweetly.

Glenn still seemed serious. “Yeah, I’ll forgive you. I should probably shove my dick down your throat.”

I stopped laughing. I couldn’t breathe. “Well … you probably should,” I said, my voice audibly cracking.

“I just might, fag.”

A bit later I was talking to him again. He seemed to be in a lighter mood now, which was nice. 

“I was thinking that you should start working a second job and give me the money,” Glenn said out of nowhere. The comment seemed really bizarre given that Glenn makes significantly more money (collectively) than I do.

I didn’t know how to reply. “Well, fags are good for that, you know,” I said sheepishly.

Glen smiled. “Yeah, they are. They’re also good for giving great blowjobs.” He was studying my reaction.

“Yes they are, Sir” I replied, trying to act like I didn’t want to take the entire length of his cock down my throat right there in front of my coworkers. Searching for something else to say, I added, “Straight guys don’t know about that well-kept secret.”

Glenn paused, looking right through me. “The secret’s out,” he replied.

So now what should I do? It’s always difficult doing “The Dance” at work given the professional environment, but I very much want to serve Glenn and give him everything I can. 

I think next week I might introduce the idea of doing some chores for him, and see where it leads. I have a feeling an Alpha like Glenn knows exactly what to do with a fag like me. 

servingsuperiormen:

bredbeta:

Upon consultation with my Sir i cautiously respond:

While going through the process of gaining approval from my Sir to respond to this message we agreed that it seems remarkably similar to a question that has already been answered. Despite this my answer is as follows. your situation has nothing to do with the thought processes of an Alpha. What he did is not the action of an Alpha but of an abuser unworthy of the title. What he did is not Discipline well-reasoned and calculated to correct behavior but rather simply a person lashing out in anger with the intent to wound. Do not mistake such actions as a sign of a Dominant because they are not. They are a sign of a person who cannot control themselves which is infinitely problematic. A person who cannot control themselves in anger is a person who is inherently untrustworthy as they cannot be relied upon to behave in a reasonable and acceptable manner when tempers ignite. he has just proven himself to fit into this category. Today he unleashed his anger on your paintings with the clear intent to deal you a grievous emotional injury. Tomorrow the injury he inflicts might be less metaphysical. 

his actions are not a warning sign so much as a blaring klaxon screaming at you to run. Not walk. Run.

PLEASE READ this important, well-written message.

Abuse is not dominance. Abuse is a sign of weakness. 

There is a lot of negotiation that takes place between a straight Alpha male and a fag when the Alpha is trying to decide if he wants to use and/or own a fag. For the Alpha, some of this negotiation is internal; the Alpha needs to consider if He can overcome years of male conditioning and His own natural confusion about homosexual sex. The fag must also come to grips with the fact that it must now give up its life and interests to fully submit and serve the Alpha. These are weighty and important decisions for both parties.

I call these early negotiations “the dance.” The Alpha and the fag are circling each other, trying to decide if they are ready to engage in a mutually-beneficial situation.

I am currently involved in “the dance” with two straight Alphas who live near me and are both seeking a fag to serve them. If my beautiful and amazing online Master (a young bisexual Man named Santi over at AlphaFxcksFags) didn’t live in another country over 4,000 miles away, I would be serving Him full time as His eager and willing slave. However, I may never get to serve Him in person, so (of course) my faggoty craving to serve desires a more tangible and immediate Alpha.

I am, however, trying to decide which Alpha would provide me with the training and use I need. Here are my choices:

ALPHA #1: A 24 year-old white businessman who stands 6′3″ and weighs 180 pounds. Cute face, preppy look, with a nice flat stomach, decent chest, big hands, and a giant dick (more than eight inches). I desperately want to show you His amazing cock – one of the most attractive, dildo-like cocks I’ve ever encountered – but He told me I can’t. 

Alpha #1 is looking mainly for a cocksucker to service Him, and perhaps a fag to take care of some daily chores (cleaning, cooking). Mainly, though, He just wants to be serviced because His schedule is too hectic to go find girls. We all know fags are good for that.

ALPHA #2: A 22 year-old white student finishing his college degree. He’s 6′0″ and weighs 200 pounds of pure, gym-worked muscle. He has the dangerous look of a nerdy, no-nonsense skinhead (if that makes any sense).

Unlike Alpha #1, Alpha #2 has some limited experience with using fags, although His use of these fags seems to be more about training/control and less about sex. For instance, He has put a couple of fags into chastity just for the control aspect. He recently told me that He likes to have fags get girls for Him to fuck, and then use the fag to fluff and clean His cock afterwards. We have yet to be intimate, and He’s already talking about shaving my entire body and putting me into chastity (something I’ve never experienced before). 

For me, there is something very appealing about becoming a personal cocksucker for an arrogant straight Man who loves to be worshiped. On the other hand, there is something appealing about a Man who wants to take over my life and transform me into an object.

And, on the other end of the spectrum, both Alphas are currently weighing out the pros and cons of owning a faggot like me. 

So for now, we dance around each other, all the while considering our steps carefully. Soon, though, we will stop dancing to the rhythms of flirtations and instead start dancing to the primal heartbeat all Men in heat share. 

I, for one, am hungry for more. 

temptingdominance:

Oh lord. This is a complicated question. I would highly suggest that you reach out to some submissives boys for some tips here. My advice is more generalized. More over, everyone is a little different. Here are some thoughts. 

I do believe that practice makes perfect. The more you work at it, the better it will be. 

Watch your teeth. It only takes a short scrapping to ruin the whole thing. 

You have a tongue. Use it. Sucking up and down only goes so far. 

I don’t like when a boy uses his hand to assist, some guys like that. You just have to get a feel from the guy. 

I’ll give you a little tip to conclude. You know how most subs like dirty talk. Doms like it too. Compliment his cock. Tell him how much you love it. It has a psychological element that really makes the blowjob hotter. 

All of these are excellent tips from an Alpha (particularly the tongue part). They should be required reading for fags out there eager to please.

As a fag, I might add this if I may:

The dirty talking is important, but a Man can tell if a Woman/fag isn’t enjoying it by their body language. Men are very intuitive creatures, and many of their responses come from the behaviors they sense in another person. If a fag is hesitant, nervous, or seemingly disgusted by the experience, the rest of the blowjob is generally a waste of time.

Want to serve Him. Look up at him while you work on His cock. Demonstrate by your body language that you love His cock. Moan like you’re savoring a delicious meal. And when He finally cums, show Him how much you appreciate Him by swallowing it and licking your lips afterwards.

Not only will He love what you’ve done, but He will more than likely come back for more.

One night a few years ago I attended the wedding of a fag hag’s friend. My fag hag asked me along as her date when her “guy of the week” backed out. Since I’m always interested in free alcohol and a dancefloor, I accepted.

While my friend socialized, I spent my time fluttering around the packed reception hall looking for hot guys. Almost immediately, I saw an incredibly muscular black male around my height (5′10″) whose upper body was straining the seams on his fitted and expensive suit. He looked something like this:

Instantly, everyone else disappeared from my view, including the chunky blonde white girl on his arm. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He felt like the center of gravity in the room, and everything seemed to swirl around his intense confidence. It was mesmerizing.

So I positioned myself in his field of view nearby, smiled, and noticed that his rum and Coke was nearly empty. So I went by him casually and told him that I was getting another drink and asked if he’d like me to fetch one for him as well. He looked me over in a moment of eternal tension, smiled cautiously, and said, “Sure thing, man.”

When I returned with his drink, his date had conveniently disappeared into the restroom with her friends. Perfect opportunity. After asking his name (Sam) and about his association to the mostly-white wedding party, I segued into asking him about his weightlifting. Turned out he was a bodyguard for a well-known televangelist and also a highway patrolman, which led to more animated conversation. 

Once his girlfriend returned, I pleasantly excused myself, but remained in the area. Every time his drink ran low, I arrived with a refill. Sam quickly realized that I was treating him with more respect and honor than his girlfriend. He clearly liked the attention. So by the end of the night, Sam asked me to call him.

After a few weeks of occasional texting, Sam asked me to come to his condo downtown early one Friday night.  The place was jaw-dropping: exposed brick, open, loft-like floor plan, Brazilian hardwood floors, granite countertops, and perfect accent lighting everywhere. 

Sam was cooking beef tips in some sort of reduction with asparagus, mushrooms, and onions, as well as some rice with tomatoes and cilantro. I was immediately embarrassed; no Man should be cooking for me. However, I kept silent (it was his house, after all), instead offering to set out the dishes on his long, knotted dining room table. After I finished, Sam offered me a glass of his Merlot, which I gladly accepted (I was terrified).

Then Sam did something distinct to change the nature of our friendship. He put the spoon down and said, firmly, “Here, finish cooking this.” I took the spoon and began working while Sam went over to the breakfast bar and sat down. From there, he watched me work for him as he sipped his wine.

Conversation over dinner was pleasant enough, although my heart felt like it skipped every other beat. We mostly talked about religion. But Sam wanted to talk about something else.

“I really appreciate that you’re submissive,” he said casually. I tensed noticeably. Sam liked that reaction. “The way you were getting my drinks at the wedding and paying attention to me … I really like that in a person.”

It was one of the few times in my life when I simply couldn’t speak. I tried to smile, some weak and awkward smirk as my mind searched for the proper response. “Yeah, well I’m glad,” I mumbled, adding, “I just like to be nice to people, I guess.”

“Uh huh,” Sam said, standing up. He put a hand under my right armpit. “C’mon,” he said, almost growling.

Sam led me into his huge, dark bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one wall, and the lights outside streamed across the king-sized bed in the center of the room. Once inside, he turned and pulled me to him. His body was huge, like the Earth; being held by him was like being held by boulders. I’ve been blessed to be with many well-built Men, but Sam was by far the largest. My hands reflexively began to search his muscular frame. 

The whole time Sam watched me, a smile crossing his face. “You like that?” he whispered in my ear. My mouth was too dry to answer.

Sam lightly picked me up and placed me on the bed. Casually, he took off his clothes; first, the maroon Oxford shirt, then the tight jeans, and finally the yellow bikini brief, until he was standing in front of me completely and gloriously naked. Then he gently fell onto the bed next to me.

“Now it’s your turn,” he ordered, nudging me on the back. Waves of body image insecurities flooded through me. How could I strip down in front of this muscular black god and reveal my puny, even pudgy white body? I was terrified, but I had to comply.

I skipped the sensual strip tease, opting instead for a quick “get it over with” approach. But as I finished, Sam said, “Stop.” I stood there naked, waiting for him to kick me out of his condo.

Instead, Sam smiled. “Stand over by that window.” Although confused, I complied. I felt even more exposed next to the open window, light from the street illuminating my unformed body. 

“Perfect,” Sam muttered to my astonishment. Then Sam smiled so brightly that I could see his straight teeth through the darkness. “Come over here.” 

Once in bed, Sam immediately grabbed my head and forced it down on his huge, fat cock. He fucked my mouth from multiple angles, every time his strong hands were around the back of my head or around my throat. 

At one point Sam was sitting in bed, with me on my stomach in between his legs servicing him. Sam reached down and began spanking me. At first the hits were light, but they quickly evolved into vicious swipes. After every few, Sam would run a finger between my ass cheeks and gently probe by hole. I would arch my ass into the air, grinding into his exploratory fingers. Mainly, though, I didn’t want him to hit me anymore.

“You like that, huh?” Sam growled as he watched me writhe on the bed under his command. I mumbled in agreement as best as I could with an eight inch cock in my mouth.

Sam pulled my head off of his cock and slammed it firmly into the mattress. He climbed around behind me and began poking the fat head of his cock at my tiny little ass pussy. 

“You want that, don’t you bitch?” Then another hard slap on my reddening ass.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my face held in the blankets and my body balled up against Sam’s immovable mass. I could feel Sam working his cock against my rebellious hole.

I began to feel panicked. “What about a condom?” I coughed into the mattress. 

Sam’s only reply was to push his enormous cock into me in one long stroke. The pain was incredible, but nothing compared to what it felt like to have Sam then hold me down and angrily buttfuck me. He certainly wasn’t gentle, punctuating every few thrusts with another stinging slap. 

“Uhhhhh, bitch, you’re so fucking tight.”

I felt like I might pass out, unsure of what to do. Then, suddenly, Sam’s home phone rang. “Aw, shit,” Sam bellowed as he pulled his cock out of me. I collapsed on the bed, turning to watch his enormous frame bound across the room to the phone. After a few short muffled sentences, Sam slammed the phone down.

“Been an accident on I-270, and I gotta go,” said Sam as he hurriedly picked clothes from the floor and forced them over his bulging body. 

As he finished dressing, he came to the bed and loomed over me. “Stay here. I’ll only be gone two hours. I want to finish in you when I get back,” he said, staring directly into my eyes. My tiny cock leaked precum at the command.

After Sam left, I shivered in his bed. Eventually I went into the bathroom, where I discovered my asshole was bleeding slightly from the intrusion. I looked at my burning ass in the mirror; it was slashed with finger-like red marks. 

My mind was racing – did Sam just try to rape me? Does he practice safe sex? If he’s this violent on the first visit, what might the future hold?

Terrified – and yet unsure of my true nature as a fag – I collected my clothes and ran out of Sam’s condo. I never heard from him again. A year later I went by his place, only to see a realty company sign in the window.

Rarely a month goes by that I don’t think about Sam and the way his natural Alpha instincts led to one of the defining encounters of my life. Had I been a better, more secure faggot at the time, I might’ve found myself in a fulfilling relationship faithfully serving a glorious god of a Man. My own fears and lack of personal insight prevented that from happening. 

But I still have the memory, and it helps to motivate me even today.

alphafaggot:

First and easiest answer is to look online. Grindr, A4A, Recon and Craigslist. Second and more difficult answer is more organic. Find an alpha male and start doing things for him. Simple at first, opening doors and stuff, then up it to asking him if you can bring him a drink or food, then up it again and ask if he needs help cleaning, cooking or doing laundry – a true alpha male will see you for what you are at this point and you’ll end up on your knees with his dick in his mouth

Pretty good advice from an Alpha regarding those first few tricky steps to find an Alpha to serve. I’ve done this many times, and it works.

servingsuperiormen:

I am sorry I have not been posting recently.  Thank you for the many messages expressing concern/annoyance with my disappearance.  I know I left you hanging with unresolved questions about my service to Rex. 

Rex returned from His vacation determined to have me set aside any anxiety and to focus solely on serving Him.  It was pretty exciting to have Him behave so aggressively.  It got rough for me emotionally one evening when He spent time carefully reviewing my blog and some of the blogs I have been following.  He found every humiliating thing ever posted by a faggot and asked if I wanted Him to do that.  Whenever I declined a suggestion, He had me “unfollow” that blog.  He had never done anything like that, and it was embarrassing and difficult for me.

But then, something truly awful happened.  My father died suddenly from a heart attack.  He had not been ill as far as anyone knew, so it was a huge shock to me and my family.   I am not going to say much more about that in this blog.

However, it is important for you to know that Rex has been amazing.  He has shown me the gentle support and comfort only an Alpha can give.  I had not expected so much tenderness from Him.  He went to the funeral and charmed my entire family.  I was feeling pretty vulnerable, and Rex seemed to know just what to do to ensure I remain loyal and devoted to Him.  I have never been more sure of my desire to serve Him.

I am just getting back to work this week and still a bit overwhelmed by everything.  I will try to give you a fuller update soon.

Not only is this fellow fag a hero of mine, but his Rex is the kind of Alpha every one of us longs to serve. An inspiration.

smoothguy2:

A cocksucker does much more than just suck your dick and bring you to orgasm.

1. He also worships your manhood. A cocksucker understands the enormous privilege he has when you allow him to suck your cock.The more you give it to him the hungrier he gets and the better he will perform, devoting himself exclusively to your total pleasure.

2, A good cocksucker makes your dick the center of the world while he’s on his knees. That’s a big turn-on for most men.

3. You don’t have to feel guilty about using a cocksucker instead of having mutual sex with him. A cocksucker wants to be used, wants to make it all about you and your pleasure, your cock, your masculinity. He’s on his knees to serve you, his feeder. A cocksucker doesn’t expect or want reciprocation. He is happy to go after he has served you.

4. A cocksucker allows you to express your dominance, as the cocksucker necessarily submits to you and allows himself to be used. Most men love to be dominant, and you can’t get much more dominant over another man than by using him for sexual pleasure and sticking your dick in his mouth. Having your cock worshipped by another man, on his knees, and seeing the hunger and need in his eyes, amplifies your power and reinforces your dominance. Over time you become more superior.

5. A cocksucker will allow your superiority to inform and guide his worship.In turn this will enable you to realise, if you didn’t already, that you can get a cocksucker to serve you any way you want and you don’t need to hold back.

6. Cocksuckers expect to be used this way. Its how they are and what they need to be fulfilled.

This is why men use cocksuckers. Or could if they wanted to.

If you’re a feeder reading this, I’d love to hear what your cocksucker does for you and how it makes you feel.

A brilliant look at why Alphas use fags so often, and why fags love it.