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.
Time for a lesson in dogma
The video you send to your lover’s wife after he’s finally agreed to marry you.
I mean, honestly, with an ass that perky and shaven, she should’ve guessed.
The stunning boyfriend twins whisper to you that it’s okay. They know you keep looking at them, they know you’re interested. They tell you that you’re welcome to come back to theirs to chill. Your nausea of being discovered is tempered by the energy in your pants. You shyly agree and start counting the seconds before the party’s over.
It’ll be our little secret
When your Railr pings and the bodybuilder couple next to you show up on your feed. They look you up and down and you nearly bust your nut. You only downloaded the app out of curiosity. Fuck they were hot. But you’re not ready for this shit.
But god damn…
It’ll be our little secret
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