My friend on here said I should write
my journey as a fag bottom. About me: I’m a freshman at college (in
the USA), I’m Asian, and I’m what you would call a “nerd:” skinny, no
muscle tone, glasses, etc. Ever since I can remember I dreamed about
strong men and being submissive to them. I never thought it would happen
for me—what Alpha would want someone like me?
So I just read about it online and fantasized, and that’s when I found
one really special blog here it really helped me to understand who and what i
am: a fag. Not just reading his blog,
but also chatting with my friend who wrote the blog (thank you fagsworshipstraights!)
who answered my questions. Most of what
you read here is thanks to his advice.
I finally got the nerve to ask the fag
who writes that blog (and who I consider my big brother) when I started college
and went to my first class. 8:00 AM MWF
history class. I dragged myself to class
the first day and that’s when I saw Him.
My professor. He is a god. Tall, handsome, muscular, masculine. It was like I was hypnotized. And when he spoke, with his deep voice,
intelligent, authoritative, I was sure I wanted to serve him. I
couldn’t stop thinking about him. So after a few weeks of going crazy not being
able to stop thinking of him, I finally asked (anonymously at first) on that
blog, what I should do. I asked my big brother what to do, if I had a
chance. He said that a prof probably
wouldn’t have sexual relations with one of his students, and advised me to
start serving him, helping him in other, non-sexual ways. So I did.
It was a few weeks into class when I
got the nerve to offer to help him the first time. It was after class, and the room was clearing
out, and I saw that he had a lot of books and papers, so I went up and asked if
I could help him carry stuff back to his office. He looked at me, and said, “Jonathan, right?”
I never say anything in class, so I was amazed that he knew who I was. Anyway, he let me help him. After that I would offer every day, and some
days he would let me help. Other days he
would say “I’ve got it, but thanks.” I
noticed he always brought coffee to class.
So one day I went early to the coffee shop and brought a coffee to his
office before class. It was nerve
wracking to do: I had no idea how he would react or if he would think I was weird…but
he accepted it with a little smile—like mostly a smile in his eyes. He has the kindest eyes. I sort of stammered that I didn’t know how he
liked it, but I thought he drank it black.
He took a sip and said it was perfect.
So after that I kept helping him—bringing
him coffee, stopping by his office in the day to see if he needed
anything. Sometimes he’d let me go to
the library to copy an article from some old journal, or pick up some books he
had on hold there. All of this I did because
my fag brother said I should serve him any way I could. But I had no idea if he wanted more.
I must tell you, I love this little brother of mine.
This is only the first part of an amazing journey this beautiful young fag has had over the last several weeks with this professor. I’ve been privileged to walk beside my little brother (virtually, of course) as he has taken these brave first steps. You will not believe where this story goes!
I am beyond proud of my brave little brother. I live for experiences like this one, and cherish those honest and sincere people who make them happen. Those who are willing to reach out for whatever their heart desires will eventually find it.
This precious brother of mine definitely deserves it.