For the sake of preservation, this thread endeavors to recreate the legendary Tumblr blog str8guys4fags2serve. Written by a young Apex Alpha, its bluntly honest revelations form the bedrock of Hierarchical truth found on this website and all others. I thank the anonymous Alpha writer for sharing his wisdom. This thread is a tribute to you, Sir. CLICK HERE for all of these posts in chronological order!

Even after our first dinner “date” walter continued to show up at my baseball games for the rest of the season.  That summer i arranged to play in an amateur industrial league – a baseball league that was made up of guys who worked at various factories.  The factory teams played each other.  i was a ringer – too young actually to be employed in our state, but not too young to play in the league- sort of a loophole in the rules.  But it enabled me to keep my skills up and maintain my amateur status.

walter started showing up at those games as well.  After every game walter would hang around and take me to dinner – not always high class restaurants; sometimes just diners where i could go in my shorts and wife-beater. On one of those dinner “dates” we went back to walter’s place afterwards and watched some TV and played on a new Wii that he had bought.  It was well after 11:30 when walter finally drove me home.  The next date, he asked if my parents were upset that I came home so late.  i told him that they were poised and made a real scene.  (In actuality, the ‘rents couldn’t give a shit when I came home or where I was.  On that night, they didn’t even know that i wasn’t home.)  walter probed and I played it up big.  I said that there was a scene and my mom and dad were going to impose a curfew.  walter ate it up.

“If things are so bad at home, why don’t you move out?”  He asked.

“Where would i go?”

“Well, you could move in with me.

“Really!!  That would be cool.”

And so that night I went home with walter.  The next morning, i said that i needed to go back home to pick up my stuff.  walter said that i probably shouldn’t; that my parents would try to keep me there of call the cops.  (How little walter knew about my parents.  The only reason they hadn’t already rented out my room was because it hadn’t yet clicked on them that i was not living there anymore.)

walter insisted that he would buy me new clothes, and he took me shopping.  i picked out only the most expensive sports clothes, underarmour tees and shorts, high end nike basketball shoes and baseball cleats.  walter was grinning from ear to ear as he pulled out his credit card.  Then he took me to the mens department  and bought me a $3000 Armani suit (although where he thought I would wear such a thing, I just don’t know) expensive slacks, custom fitted dress shirts, and neckties.  (Fucking neckties cost like $200 each – amazing!).

We went home and walter arranged all of my new clothes in the closet in the second bedroom.  After about three days i went to walter and told him that I felt weird sleeping in the second bedroom that was made up as a shrine to me. 

“You need to sleep in the shrine,” I said.

“You need to move your stuff into the shrine room, and move my stuff into the bedroom,” I ordered.  “Don’t you think that is more appropriate?”

Of course, walter knew that the only possible answer to that was “yes.”

“And change the sheets on the king size bed.”

walter’s life as my fag was only beginning.