A year ago, you were a closeted neurotic, living in denial with a girlfriend you didn’t like and a lifestyle you resented. Once you found your daddies, you became their confident boi, out and proud, and you just wonder why it took you so long to get here.
Don’t ask about it and don’t tell about it here.
Daddy teaching his protégé what it takes to be a true alpha dom. They’re staring down a cute boi with ass for days. If an alpha wants, an alpha gets. Go and get it bro!
Become a man here
Daddy dangles the lure of steroids in front of these damaged men and they cave. They eventually beg to join Daddy’s cult. At first, they sucked him and endured his dick because that was the price for the muscle they craved. Now, they do it cause they love Daddy and his beautiful cock.
Artist: Headingsouthart
Fall into Daddy’s trap here.
CW: F-slur, internalized homophobia
Married, four kids, good job, you know the drill. Doesn’t stop him treating Mark’s fuckhole like a disposable flashlight; good to be thrown in the bin once it’s dripping with his breeder cum. And Mark lets him. For a man like that, there’s not much Mark wouldn’t do.
He’s called Pat, but Mark wants to call him Daddy. He tried it once, and Pat got real pissy. Took Mark’s jaw in his big hand and told him to never call him that again. Mark obeyed. He wasn’t gonna anger a tanked, defensive roidhead for no reason. Still, in his mind, Pat was Daddy.
And to Pat, Mark was faggot. Mark didn’t let just any man call him that. If a gym bro was on his level – on equal footing of masculinity and muscularity – then he wouldn’t allow it. Any gym bro who called him that would be getting a clap back, and Mark was a strong man. But Pat wasn’t on Mark’s level. He was on the next rung up. He was an alpha. Mark wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He recognized their different spheres of manhood, and he respected it. Pat was more of a man than he was.
For men like this – hypermasculine alphas with homosexual ideation – homophobia is often the only way they can square their conflicting feelings. He believes being gay is decadent and feminizing, but he feels drawn to men in a way that goes beyond platonic camaraderie. He wants masculinity. He wants intimacy. These ideas are at war – at least in Pat’s mind.
The better angels of Mark’s nature tell him that he’s helping Pat come to terms with his demons. That he’s showing Pat it’s possible to be a hypermasculine alpha, and truly enjoy the company of men. But the selfish, sordid, dark recesses of Mark’s desire don’t want Pat to overcome his internalized homophobia and find open, liberated comfort in homosex. They want Pat to remain closeted, and frustrated, and homophobic. Because when Pat fucks his breeder cum into Mark’s perfect pussy in a rage of homophobic shame, Mark orgasms like with no one else.
Even my shameless, confident good boi Mark struggles to sweep that one under the rug.
See what Mark’s about here, and read about his adventures here.
Buy his stories here
This man is a typical parliamentarian of Homolania. Politics is a game of the physical and sexual elite, so goes the Party’s ideology. Politicians are not chosen through biased and sordid elections, or through mystical nonsense like divine right, or even through the partisan, militant conquest of a dictator. These systems all lack legitimacy, or strength, or both. They are corrupted by money and nepotism and unearned narcissistic greed. Not in Homolania. Here, all that wins is androphilic strength.
Politicians are chosen through publically broadcast games of strength, skill, intelligence, loyalty, and sexual virility – designed to weed out the weak and elevate the strong in a way that is undeniable to the governed. The whole country watches the Parliamentary Games every five years and sees their newest champions of government rise up. Many of the old guard remain – incentivized to work tirelessly on maintaining their excellence – and many new, younger men enter; either because they oust the sitting members, or because the older members of the House (those who have maintained their parliamentary seat for 20 years by the start of the next “election”) ascend to the second chamber where they are granted life-peerage. The winners of the games become national figures of admiration, not disdain; emulation, not suspicion. The boys and men of Homolania fantasize and sexually glorify their parliamentarians. How could they not?
And there’s no way to cheat the system. All men between the ages of 18 and 45 are allowed to compete. It is up to any individual man to train to win – he trains in the gym and the field as the Party demands; he trains in the classroom and the library as the Party demands; he trains in the club and the boudoir as the Party demands; and he trains through total internalization of the Party’s propaganda, as the Party demands. Even the cruel hand of genetic fate is mediated by universal use of steroids. All men synthesize their muscles, most intensely those who aspire for power. At no point does money or privilege or background or even genetics come into it. If a man wants it, he will earn it.
And as for the second chamber – yes, those men are granted life peerage, but only if they maintain their seat in the lower house for twenty years. To do so is an extraordinary feat. To keep power for so long deserves keeping power forever, so says the Party. The citizenry understand that. The senators are the most highly respected of all; the daddies who determine the continuity of the State. They have earned that right through constant conquest. No one can take issue with this beautiful, elegant system.
So imagine this house of 500 masculine parliamentarians, each vying to maintain and expand his own power in the face of his equally glorious colleagues. The sheer virility of the chamber is unsurpassed in any institution in the world; the orgies are cosmic.
Learn more about Homolania here.
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