A fag submissive often serves with no expectation of sexual gratification, simply because it must serve its Master as a duty. A Master sometimes takes without sexually using the fag because he must also fulfil his role in natures game. For me, sex has been the central powerful feature in my life, and the thing that I have used to bear down control and extract pleasure from the fags that have crossed my path, but this is the story of an occasion where that usual pattern was broken.
Young Alpha Rises
I did not read about subs or fags or sissy men in books. I learnt about them first hand. I saw the way that some men just looked at me, something in their eyes told me they knew, they could see the difference, like a Stag gets the waft of a lesser stag in its nostrils across the prairie, they knew that I was superior to them and they were by implication inferior. I didn’t fully understand it, at first, I didn’t even recognise it. As a young boy, I paid no credence to the fact that other boys would dress like me, or want the same shoes as me, it was just boyish games that we would all one day outgrow, but we never did, and “they”, those boys that wanted to wear the same shoes as me, or play football as well as me, became the men that wanted to be around me at university, and then go for drinks with me after work to be “one of the lads “. I didn’t change, and neither did they.
As I grew into my teenage years, I just became aware that I could have the last say, I could get what I wanted by simply asking, I was given favour where I shouldn’t have been. My high school coach did offer me things that other guys didn’t get, were these all-early signs of the emerging Alpha? Now I know they were.
University was one long fuck fest for, as I guess it is for many people. I had my true sexual awakening through those 3 years in my dorm, and it changed the course of my life and outlook to people. I left with new experiences, a new lifestyle and a understanding that there a hierarchy in life and society that could not be underestimated. None of my teachers had ever told me about the hierarchy of men, I had learnt that all by myself, through the look in the eye of colleagues and friends. I had learnt that some men are higher and some are lower, this is the natural order of life.
Straight after university I started a job with a finance firm in London, and it was a mentored role, so I was given a person whom I had to follow around for 8 months, to observe and to participate daily with functions required by the department. I knew that this role was an inferior role, where I was supposed to be placid and take direction and be silent most of the time. I knew that they expected me to pander to all the high-flying traders, who spoke in 3 or 4 letter insults from 6am until 8pm every day. The fact that I was not born to come second was something they had not planned for, and as soon as I started, I was sure to be seen and heard by all those around me. I was not afraid to throw my comments into the mix when senior respected traders spoke out academically, as though they were teaching all the rest. I could see through them all, I could see that many of them were the boys that had followed me around in school, they were the same boys that had wanted to be my friends, and this was no different. I could see that they saw that in me too, as they never reprimanded me like they did the others, the banter never landed on my lap, and I know that is because they knew. There was a musk of aggression and fear in the air on our trading floor and that ill wind was not blowing in my direction. Other new starters got put in their place regularly, but not me. I never threatened anyone, or spoke aggressively, I simply did what I do… and was. They responded cautiously with me as though they could smell the ferocity of desire I had for power and control. I am sure that most of them were confused, and many of them did not want me to hold this kind of power in the office, but none could deny it. I exerted that power when I spoke, when I walked to the coffee machine, and when I walked up to senior traders’ desks, and confidently asked them if they had anything more, I could do or watch… I was putting a power game back on them… showing them that whatever they threw at me, I was going to throw back at them 10 times harder.
It was in this first job that I met a guy called Martin, he was the head of cleaning for the building in which the firm was based. Martin had worked for the building operator for most of his life, having joined straight after leaving school, now at 35, he was married and living in the East end of London. Martin commuted into work every day on the rail, he worked hard from 6am, ran a team of cleaners and left at the same time every day to get home to pick his daughter up from school. Martin was a good guy. I first met Martin on our sales floor as he took a new starter in his team around the office showing him bin locations and short routes to avoid the trading areas, and desks to avoid. I said hi to Martin and quite surprised he said hi back, I was later to learn that the “earners” and top guys in this office were known to be complete bastards to everyone that was not on a seven-figure salary. To me, I didn’t care about what a person did, just cared about what I was doing and any nice people I met along the way, I treated them as nice as I could. I did have some exceptions because at uni I had enjoyed Jon for 3 years and had other experiences where I was controlling and dominating, but those all felt like things from another world... I was now in the world of work, and surely those things didn’t carry over into this world. I was to learn soon enough that things you do don’t just vanish, and perhaps you do them because that is what you are.
One morning getting a coffee, I saw Martin sitting having a coffee so I went and sat next to him, thinking nothing of any social or work place divide between us. Martin looked a little uneasy, but me bursting with confidence just ignored that and carried on, we talked and joked about football, and before I left, I could see Martin was in a happier place, so I asked him if he knew any good cleaners that I might be able to use for the flat I was renting in the city. He asked why I would need a cleaner if it was a flat, and I explained that although it was a flat, it was quite large and I was out of it so often that it would be good to know I had someone cleaning it while I was at work. Martin said that he didn’t know anyone, but that he would happily do it either on the route into work in the mornings if that worked for me or middle of the day if that worked, so I agreed, and told him to pop over after he had got his daughter home from school to check the flat and work out what he would charge me, I gave him my address and said goodbye.
8pm that night I got a knock on the door, I opened it, it was Martin, we shook hands and he came in. I showed him around the place, and he was quite surprised that someone of my age could afford to rent such a large place in the city. Having looked around he asked whether I wanted someone to do the laundry dishes and post room collections as well, to which I said, “fuck Yeh” then we agreed on a price which I thought was too reasonable to refuse and he said that he would start tomorrow lunchtime. I then went off to get some keys cut, which I gave him the next morning and that was it, a new chapter had begun. For a week, everything ran very smoothly, and I went home to a super clean tidy home, and only had to reach over to the coffee table to get my post. It was a dream.
The Naked Fag Truth
Start of the next week, I was doing my regular checks on my computer systems and cctv setup. I suddenly remembered that I had not told Martin about my cctv setup, and that it was built into furnishings covertly and unobtrusively. I switched on my app and logged in, wondering if I would see Martin walking around the flat cleaning. What I saw nearly made me fall off my seat with laughter and surprise. The first camera was my lounge cam with a mid week video snapshot, as it played, I watched a naked Martin strolling around my flat clearing objects and carrying trash. I moved onto the kitchen cam where I saw Martin emptying the bins naked, doing the beds naked and generally being naked in my flat. I sat there and scrolled through a weeks’ worth of my cam footage, all of which showed that Martin had from day 1 been very comfortable to get undressed and clean my place up. He was walking around as though he was not concerned about being caught, it was actually really shocking. I could not see that he was doing anything wrong or illegally, he wasn’t stealing from me, or breaking things, he was just naked, so I let it go, decided to not say anything, but also not to mention to Martin that I had the cctv in place. The weeks passed and I would check in and sometimes watch Martin walking around, clearing cleaning, and then he would leave and appear in the offices and say hi to me, as though nothing had happened… it was all quite bizarre.
Fag Ass Sniffer
Several months later I happened to be scrolling through random footage when I came across footage of myself coming back from the gym early morning and dropping my sweaty gym kit and trainers on the bathroom floor. I then emerge bathed, get dressed and leave for work. A few hours later Martin appears on the cam, closes the door behind him… gets undressed and proceeds to walk around the flat clearing and cleaning. I then see him going towards the bathroom, he sees the gym kit on the floor and the trainers, and I watch as he picks them up and puts them to his face… deeply sniffing the crotch of my gym kit…and into the soles of my trainers. I watch in surprise as he then carries on cleaning, but leaves the gym kit lying on the side board, and for the next 1 hour of cleaning he regularly comes back to the gym kit, picks it up and deeply inhales the crotch area... and then carries on. At one point Martin puts the trainer shoe to his face and ties the shoelaces behind his head, and carries on cleaning. Eventually, Martin left my flat and arrived at the office… he said hi to me and carried on as normal. I sat there and wondered whether I should bring this up, but bearing in mind what I had done to Jon my dorm fag for the last several years this was actually very gentle perversion if any at all, so I decided to let it continue.
I was however now more interested in what was going on, so I watched Martin for the next few days, and noted more carefully that he carried clothes around the flat on his shoulders which I never found odd, until I zoomed the cam and saw that he was actually deeply inhaling my socks, boxers, pants, shirts and enjoying doing it. He was doing his work, but he was also sniffing and, on some occasions, licking the underarms of my shirts and asses on my boxers. So, by the end of that week, I pulled Martin up in the office, and by then I had been given a small area to call my own, so I asked Martin to join me there. He sat down and I went right to it, “so Martin, tell me why you’re sniffing my fucking boxers” I was not even angry saying it, but he looked worried right away, he had been caught... and he said “I’m sorry Mikey, I’m not going to explain why, but I also don’t want you to tell anyone about this, so what do I need to do here? I tell you what, I will work for free, how about that?” to which I replied that I had no interest in him working for free, that was not the issue, and if I had wanted to extort him, I would have put it on him long ago, and that I was well capable of doing that, had I wanted… but no, I actually wanted to pay him to do what he was doing, but just needed to understand why he was sniffing my stuff. I was used to treating another man like an inferior already with Jon the dorm fag and with Sissy Sarah, so I knew where this could end up, but I was not hoping for Martin to be put there too, he looked like a normal vanilla guy, but clearly, he was not. So, I said “just tell me what the fuck is going on Martin?”
It was at this point that Martin broke into tears, and told me that he had always liked powerful men, and that was the reason he worked in this city job, even if he was cleaning the place. He said he loved being around all these successful men and hearing them talking and making deals, and bragging on nights out about the escorts they were fucking and the hotels they were splashing money in…and that when he saw me, he lost his mind in love with me and wanted to do anything to be near me, and that included sniffing my boxers. He explained that he was attracted to the scent of my body, the smell drove him wild, especially on the days that I had gone to the gym or for a run, he said those days he would lay out on the floor and cover himself in my dirty laundry and just breathe in all the powerful musk until he was giddy with excitement. It was the only way he could get excited about his boring life and his boring wife who sat at home and had no idea that he was a fag.
Martin went on to say that he envied all those fags that could just be what they were, but that was something that he never could be. His life had put such responsibilities on him that he would never break those to make himself happy, he would rather provide a strong settled calm home life for his wife and daughter and die slowly inside then ever live the life of fag freedom that he wanted to.
So, the only thing left for him was this small vice, and he had not done it for years, but when I had asked for a cleaner, he knew it was time for him to take advantage. He said he was sorry and it would never happen again, but please would I never tell anyone.
Fag Of Quiet Desperation
For me it was a simple choice to make, and I told him to come to my place in the evening, which is did. I asked him to sit in front of me. I told him that I understood everything he had said and that in any other circumstance I would have used that information to control, manipulate and destroy him for my pleasure, but that I found his story so sad and his nature so gentle that I was instead going to do him a favour.
I then gave him a pay rise and told him that I would not tell anyone what he was doing, and further I told him the days that I would be going for runs and to the gym, and that he could enjoy himself with my clothes after he finished cleaning. I also told him that he was not ready yet to go further but that one day I would need to decide what to do with him... and he agreed that this would be left to me.
That day I saw a man dying a life of quiet desperation and I was able to be the one strong Alpha beacon of light that shone in his night and showed him the route back to shore. I was happy within myself to do that. I felt good that day and everyday after that. It was a lesson to me that although I had been taking unforgivingly and unapologetically, sometimes just sometimes I needed to have compassion, even if it was for a weak feeble fag of a man.
What would you have done in my place? circumstances sometimes test you, and we are all tested in one way or another…
To tribute my journey as an Alpha Master Mikey, click below.