Supplicate yourself to God here, worm
There are gods on Earth, and we all see it. We know them as the great musclemen and bodybuilders that consume our gay fantasies. They are the alphas. So strong and masculine, so large and proud. They dominate even when jovial. Their existence seems to take up more space than the average man, and not just physically. These men are special. These men are gods. And gods need worshipers, gods need slaves. Every god needs a slave to muscle.
Gods need runts to do all the day-to-day human shit they shouldn’t have to. To build and maintain the body of a god takes tremendous effort, energy and will; slaves are the tools alphas use to bridge the gap between their humanity and their godhood. Slaves shop, cook, clean, launder, shave, monitor and relieve their gods. Slaves work two jobs to afford a god’s lavish lifestyle. Slaves take any opportunity they are given to service gods sexually. Slaves also worship gods. A currency normies can’t understand, the exchange of power between a god and his slave is heady and deep. Gods get off on the abject supplication slaves show them. That supplication proves his righteous manhood, proves he is better than, more than human.
Gods will use their slaves to wrestle and punch. They will use them to fuck and thrust and drench with god-cum. They will use them to clean their dirty assholes, drink their roid-enhanced piss, lick their pits clean, massage their feet, suck their nipples, massage their muscles, and as somewhere warm to keep their balls when they’re kicking back and watching a bodybuilding show.
And through all that, if god finds a new slave who is more deferential, more attractive, richer, sluttier, younger, fitter, better? Well, he’ll drop your slave ass in an instant and use the thing he really wants. Slaves must always remember that it’s not about you, it’s never about you. You are just a slave to muscle; the muscle is what matters.
