Post-gym showers with bro are the beeeeest, fuu. Bro has some serious donk from all that hack-squatting and it needs some serious attention after the fact. Suds and spanks, bruh, suds and spanks! Huhu. When you’re all clean and dried, you’ll each rub one out then play some Mario Kart. Bro-day is best day.
The video you take of the homophobic cunt who beat up your younger brother as he was coming home from a gay bar. You’re gonna post this on all your socials, and make sure everyone around town knows what he did. Funny thing; once he got over his initial hesitation at sucking your dick, he started lapping away at it like… well, like a gay dude.
Men punish me for being the object of their desire. I’ve fashioned my body into the perfect playground for them to enjoy themselves, and that angers them. They take out their aggression and resentment on my bussy, and my mouth, and I thank them for it. It motivates me to work that much harder, to become that much more fuckable.
The enforcers of Homolania are chosen for looks, loyalty and adherence to the regime. Their bodies are honed and synethic, their dogma absolute, their love for Daddy unquestioned. They patrol the cities and backwaters of the all-gay state in their leathers, dressed in equal parts to fear and arouse. All part of the Party’s agenda of hyper- and constant-sexualization.
A father’s duty to teach his sons how to fuck. This isn’t some disposable, irrelevant afterthought. Sex is the whetstone of a man’s virility. He needs to fuck to know how to man. Dad’s – good dads – know this, and they strive to foster it.
Of course, dad wants some action too. He’s all man, after all.
A top getting off on how his dick alters another man’s body. Seeing the feeder struggle to breath while his dick pushes agsint his adam’s apple from within is bringing him to his edge. He’s about to bust, but he wants this to last. He’ll cum down the feeder’s throat but stay lodged in there. Recharge for another go.
Oh fuck! The roids have completely addled his brain. He’s roided out. He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to do. At this point in the program, a coach is no longer a benefit but a necessity. Coach is now his full-time carer.
When it’s senior year and you’re so thoroughly jocked that there is no going back. This is you now. You will die a jock. You wake up everyday, thankful to Coach for having seen something special in you that you couldn’t see yourself.
You wished you could jack thinking about it, but your dick’s caged up. You’re in the chastity part of your sexual cycle. You’re used to it now: it’s fine. It’s that pent up sexual energy that’s gonna make you kill it in the gym and on the field today. It’s all part of the program. And no one knows better than you how effective the program is.
A bull and his bull-in-training taking a shower together. Whether bull, jock or cheerleader, Coach always pairs a rookie and a veteran together. The rookie learns directly from the source how to become the thing he aspires to be, while the vet gets a younger, smaller puppy to boss around, chill with, train, mold, and fuck. And Coach doesn’t have to do the heavy lifting of training every recruit in his Team.
Alone in Coach’s office for your weekly body-check and things got heated. This was the first time he’d kissed you. The signs had been strong. For the past few weeks, you’d both sported boners for the duration of your check-in – both of your hard dicks straining against your little uniforms while coach examined every part of your body. He’d brush up against your dick innocently enough and you’d feel a spasm of pleasure. He wouldn’t comment on it, or on his own raging boner.
But today, it just got too hot. He was assessing your pec development – your boners frotting against each other – and you couldn’t avoid his eyes. He looked at you deep for a second, then went in for a kiss.
You were unsure, but only for a second. You’d only kissed one other boy and that was your jock mentor. This was all so strange for you – whole new frontiers of social and sexual life opening up.
It wouldn’t be long before Coach started taking a real intimate role in your jockification.
Bro was up for fucking around with his teammate. Excited even. But, when he pulled down his shorts and saw his friend’s boned-up jock, it all got very real, very quick. Bro can still say no, but… why does it feel like there’s no going back?
The married dad who “prefers the company of men”. He gives you a little wink, a wee pout, and once the missus is gone with the kids, you’re face down in his sheets getting the best pounding of your life.
You spend the next hour straddling his lap, making out slow and deep. Until her car rolls up into the drive. He sighs.
“So you’ll take the landscaping job then, kid?”
“Hell yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” He pats your butt and acts like nothing happened. At least, not until the next time it happens.
This Meatheads chapter is looking for a pack uniform. Something to wear around the den to really connect all the fellas (tankers and flamers). So they’re doing a little fashion show, finding something that works for everyone. This little blue number is really going down well. It’s blue, so the tankers are happy about how masc it looks, and it covers basically nothing so the flamers are happy about that. It also really accents the cock so of course everyone’s happy about that. Overall, this is a winner.
The extra strappy bits are for when it gets a bit chilly.
Himbos may be braindead sluts without education, trades or experience, but don’t ever think these bootilicious sluts will be out of work. Their donks got all the education they need.
Coach got his whole team of jocks at the farm and things got a little out of control. Which is just how coach likes it. Coach is so proud of all his jocked boys. To think, most of them used to be skinny little closeted losers. They’re so lucky to have found the program.
I pride myself on how easily I can get “straight” guys interested in my hot tight body. One minute, it’s all, “I’m not into that fruity shit!”, the next they’re eating out my fuckshoot like it’s their last meal.
A key part of my role as a good boi is to slowly open up the Overton window of sexual possibility for married men, closeted men, men who have never really considered the alternative options. I’m friendly, I’m accommodating, I’m service-oriented but I’m no faggot. I’m not thrusting him into some pressurized situation where he has to be the dom (though if he wants that, that’s also fine). And I take things slow. I take things at his pace, I should say. A drip, drip, drip of greater male-intimacy over days, weeks, even months. All to break the dam in his mind that’s so far prevented him from experiencing the full spectrum of his sexual desire.
When you visit the specialty men’s underwear store out of prolonged curiosity, and my good boi ass starts working my magic. A kiss and a fondle is enough. You’re sold. That is, ten jocks and a paid Railr account. Good bois aren’t necessarily saints; I need to make a living too.
Bullmeat on sale at a cattle show. If a Barn thinks a bull is more valuable being sold off to another Barn rather than as an earner in-house, then they’ll put him up for auction. How could this man not be a good earner, you ask? Just remember that Barns have hundreds of men just like this in their systems. From their perspective, this bull is nothing special. He may be able to bring in a quick mil for the Barn, though. Help with cashflow.
Your weren’t sure about getting a handy from a guy, but your bud was very persuasive. Now, he’s been giving you a daily job and you can’t imagine doing it yourself. Wonder what else you could do together…
Your gay bro was telling you about his hook-up last night and you were playing along like a good bud.
“And then I fucking busted, dude. All over his cute face. He couldn’t believe how much splooge there was. It was funny.”
“Like this?”
You pretended to get cummed on.
“Exactly.”
“Haha, that’s awesome. I wish chicks would let you do that to them. They’re too worried about messing up their make-up.”
“You should hang with me and my fuck bros, bro. We’re non-stop busting on each other.”
“Eh… okay.”
There it was. You’d been waiting for him to give you an opening for months now. He assumed you weren’t into guys. Probably cause you were hella closeted and never dared express any interest in men. Little did he know that you’d been using his sex stories for your spank bank ever since you met the guy. And now, looks like you were gonna be part of it. Dream come true.
You and your best bud, exploring your sexuality together. You know it’s a bit, like, wrong and sus and weird, and you’re definitely not gonna tell anyone about it!, but you’re both just drawn to the other. Things always get a bit out of control, but so long as you don’t truly lose yourselves, it’ll be alright. You’ll return to normal society unchanged. It’ll be alright.
Wrestlers and bodybuilders are one step away from being porn stars. They have the pornstar state of mind at least; aesthetic, victory, sensation, physicality, strength. All this and more occupies the minds of these men. Is it so hard to imagine these wrestling greats taking the next logical step and fucking? Not for me.
He’s been listening to his hypno files for months now. Coach got him onto them. Said it would make him bigger, hotter, manlier. Now he knows exactly what to do. Lift, eat, sleep, repeat. Lift, eat, sleep, repeat. And if he’s an obedient jockboi, he might get to cum as well.
You’ve taken to smelling all the jocks lying around the locker room. That’s totally normal, right? And you jack your solid boner while you do. That’s normal too, right? And you imagine Brad and Donny and Tyler making out and sucking dick when you bust a nut. Which is also normal. You know it’s all No Homo cause… well, cause it has to be. What’s the alternative? Homo?
How you’ve taken to greeting your gay buddy every time he comes round. Even the thought of it makes you tent. He says that’s totally normal, that all the other bros he makes out with get hard too, so you don’t worry too much about it. Also fucking him just feels cool, you know? He says that’s normal too. All bros are natural tops. You fucking love the sound of that.
When the French couple who moved in next door takes you under their wing and tries to bring you out of the closet. You swear you’re not in the closet, they keep proving otherwise. They say their gaydar’s never wrong. You’d counter their point, but you keep being the filling in their beefcake sandwich. Hard to say “No, no, I’m straight” when a man’s kissing his own cum from your lips.
When you and your best man were supposed to be getting dressed for your wedding but soon found yourselves naked, hard and eating each other’s faces. As you plunge into his hole, you start to question whether marrying Stacy is really what you want…
When you’re horsing around with bro and it inevitably leads to you spread out on your bed and him eating out your awesome dude donk. You don’t know why it keeps happening, but it must be totally fine cause, like, it does keep happening. Some of your other bros did warn you about the downsides of chilling with gay dudes. But, fuck, if this is a downside, you can’t wait to see the upside, shit.
When you start off that day’s goon sesh watching lesbian porn, but inevitably end up busting your load thinking about the hot gay couple at the gym who kept patting each other’s butts as they lifted some heavy metal. It makes the batter come out that much stronger. You don’t like to think about that once the dust settles and your fire’s extinguished. You go about your day and the repression continues.
It was somehow easier to convince yourself you were straight by hooking up with domtops. It’s not that you’re gay, you’re just a sub, and submitting to women isn’t the same. Women can’t control you the way a man can. A man’s strength and his hard throbbing dick are the tools of domination, not whatever a woman can offer.
The cope is powerful, the cope is real. You kneel before men and suck their dicks and take their abuse and surrender your ass because you’re a repressed homo and deep down you know that.
When you finally feel comfortable enough to let your gay gym buddy play with your ass, and this is how he responds. You know you’ve opened the floodgates, and you’re okay with that. You’ve been holding that flood back for far too long.
When you and your bud are this close to telling each other how you really feel, so you just let your kiss do the talking. Actions speak louder than words; men know this. Your words might say “I’m straight”, but your actions say otherwise. Especially the action in your pants. Once the dust settles in the morning, you’ll see where you both stand. For tonight, you’ll embrace and enjoy.
Ah, gym bros. Mark was well acquainted with their ways. Dustin here had started buggering him a few weeks back. It made him chuckle to think they were in control. That they had a handle on the situation. Mark was in control. Completely. Any ground given was ground he could recover at a moment’s notice. He played the part of a submissive gay boi for the men who needed the cope. It only mattered that Mark got his prize: the rich creamy dessert. The ends justified the means.
And the slurring? It pissed him off when done without his consent, but when a dude “earned” the right to say it – when he really topped the shit out of his bussy – he could let it slide. He knew that a lot of closeted men slurred the objects of their attraction to deflect their own insecurities. Freudian and irritating, but typical. As if this hunk of douche was any less of a “fag” with his dick firmly up Mark’s beautiful, manly ass.
Bro’s such an obnoxious roidhead, everyone in the gym thinks his shouts and grunts are just him being extra about lifting. They don’t see Mark on his knees, giving him one of his world-class blowjobs. But that’s where he is, where he always is.
It’s men like this who really steal Mark’s attention. Chads. Everything about his person is soaked in testosterone. It’s the T Mark wants. He doesn’t care if most of it is synthetic, he just wants to be immersed in it, influenced by it, drowned in it. He’ll swallow as much high-T cum as he can – whether in throat or ass – cause that will bring him closer to the masculinity he loves so much.
The bro doesn’t understand any of that, or care. He’s getting an awesome blowjob from a beautiful man and has never gotten into the habit of thinking too deeply about shit. And that’s also how Mark loves him. Unthinking, obnoxious roidhead masculinity is the best kind. Tastiest cum, too.