A game of an alpha cat and a beta mouse.
I have heard in my life, many different people who talk about these beta queers that thrive in life to be dominated by their alpha masters. Always seemed a bit far fetched to me, but thats probably because I would never concede to another man as an alpha in my life. The idea of bending my knee to another man is unfathomable and weak.
Where I work, I have found one of these weak and needy fans, he may sign my check, but he isn't capable of being my boss. Ten minutes into my first day at that job, I immediately realized he was gay. As time went on, this owner of the flower shop, he would tell me about the people like you, the folks who read these stories and get off to the idea of being owned. The beta fans who crave attention from REAL men. At first I didn't pay him much mind; I thought he was just exaggerating his own fucked up gay fettishes.
Eventually he got the courage to express his true intentions and did so using direct action. Just like I do every day when I get to work, I asked him what was on the agenda. He asked me to talk to him in the workshop where I keep my tools and a spare set of work clothes. The moment the door shut he dropped to his knees. Immediately I tried to decide whether I would scold the fag for thinking he had the privilege suck my cock or even doing so without my command.
I was wrong. He bowed his head and raised his hands above with a handful of money stretched out for me to take. I wanted to take the money, but he needed to learn to only act when told. I took a step closer to him, then leaned in so that my cock and overfilled and tight balls where inches from his face. I stood there without saying a word so that he could feel and smell my dominance. After a moment once I could tell he was shaking in desperate need of an order. I ordered him to clean my boots with his mouth.
He obeyed without a moments delay. Standing there I thought about my wife. Although I'm not gay, watching this beta fag shine my boots with the same tongue he dreams about sucking my cock with, I realized how gratifying it is to exercise my alpha personality over this pheasant.
I stepped back so he could get a good look at the strong thighs he dreams about putting his head between and fantasizes about my full load of hot cum shooting down his throat. Once I allowed him to look long enough to play that scenario through his mind, I walked away.
Even if he hes fully realized it yet, he works for me. He lives for me. He is just one fag that it is my stable, and my stable has room for more.
The idea of him swallowing my hot load didn't do much for me, but knowing that I am a God to this middle aged fag, knowing I dominate him fully, rushed all my blood to my cock and I went straight home to dominate my wife. As I pounded into her and she screamed and begged for me to be easier on her, I knew her squinting puusy wanted the hard pounding it was getting. Her legs started to shake uncontrollably and her screams became cries for more and more until her body locked up and I pumped my full load into her as I felt her quiver and shake from the orgasm she was having.
Thats when I knew that being an alpha owner to a beta fag in my stable could not be compared to even the sexiest women.
I layed there thinking about the rush and fulfillment that owning this fag slave gave me.
The next day I knew he wanted to please me and give me what I wanted. As I explored this new territory of complete authority, I decided that my stable needed to grow and my stable needed to live entirely for me. An alpha should live like an alpha, otherwise you're just a beta bitch wanting to be what you're not, someone like me, an authentic alpha.
The beta fans that wish to be considered for membership to my stable, the ones who understand that its your job to satisfy me, who understand their place in this world. Send me the fag-tax you are obligated to pay me. Get more exclusive stories and access to what you want.
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