I spent a large portion of the summer of 2015 partying with a bunch of 18 year-old studs. Two of the kids are the sons of an older friend, and slowly I got to know several of their friends, too. We spent many nights that summer drinking and getting high. Almost all of the kids in the group come from wealthy suburban families, the kind of group that ignored me when I was in high school.

I quickly became that group’s pet fag. I’m pretty open about my sexuality, often using my sense of humor to ease any concerns. Thankfully, kids today are also quite accepting of gays and other identities. It wasn’t long before this jocular group of young studs accepted me as part of their clan, often teasing me with glimpses of their cocks, kissing me on the cheek, or making lewd comments in my direction.

One of the leaders of that group is an 18 year-old Alpha named Connor. The first time I met him I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Connor is tall, lanky, and athletic, with sandy brown hair and beautiful lips. The first night I met him he was goofing around at the pool, showing off his tanned washboard abs and his picture-perfect feet. Connor is one of those guys who outwardly seems very affable and sweet, but he has these dead, shark-like eyes that look right through his prey.

That first night Connor asked me if I was gay, and I corrected him. “I’m a faggot.”

He laughed, and looked at me curiously. “A faggot?”

I nodded. “Yes, I serve Men,” I said.

Connor stood up and pulled down his swimming trunks, revealing a gigantic limp dick (he later told me it’s about 9.5 inches erect). “Serve that,” he said as the entire table laughed and screamed around us. Then Connor tucked it back into his trunks.

So I said, “Yes Sir,” and dropped to my knees, kissing his feet. The table erupted again (social situations are sometimes about one-upsmanship) as Connor stood there and let me kiss his feet.

And that’s how we became friends.

Over the last year Connor and his other friends have kept in close touch with me. We group text a lot now that they’re all busy with college, work, and girls. Connor has been in his first really serious relationship after banging nearly every girl in high school.

And yet Connor and I seem to be getting closer.

A few weeks ago he called me up and told me he wanted me to take him to dinner (always an Alpha sign). So we went to a nice restaurant where Connor proceeded to take off his shoe and sock in order to show me a blister he had on his foot (all the while watching my reaction). It was a nice dinner, full of Connor bragging about filling up his girlfriend’s pussy with his seed. He even sent me a picture of a load he accidentally shot over his head during one of their encounters. Then I paid the check.

But then last night happened. Connor drunk texted me around four in the morning with these words: “I’m so drunk right now I think I’d let you stroke my cock.”

I wish I had been awake for that one!

I responded this way:

There was no answer today to that text. Yet.

This is how a young Alpha begins to blossom. He keeps laughing off the idea, reminding himself that he’s straight and that he’d never be interested in using a faggot. But it’s not that simple. The predator inside of him cannot resist easy, willing prey. The Man in him cannot resist the taboo, the forbidden. The Alpha in him cannot resist the worship his heart craves.

As a faggot, it is always a sacred privilege to help young Alphas discover their natural power. I hope Connor is the next great Man I can lead to Alphahood!

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