Newcomer to the Garden of Cock – Final Part

Erotic fiction and metaphors on some of the practices and beliefs of our Brotherhood

With newfound determination, our Hero leaves the comforting sights of the shores He knows, to dive deep into the murky waters of his sunken desires. Will this “Beast,” His most animal, sexual Self, devour Him, consume Him, or will He manage to make Him dance at His whim, like He who tames a wild colt or trains a fierce golden eagle? For the first part, please click here. For the second, please click here. For the third, please click here. For the fourth, please click here.

Into the darkness I ventured. I stepped into the depths of the swirling Forest of my Lust. Where it was the thickest, the most humid, that is where I found myself walking towards. Dense, warm, the trees themselves seemed to drink from the lewdness seeping through the very soil. My body glistened with sweat, and plants extended vines as if to sip and lap the copious perspiration off my skin. They caressed my body, gently, softly. Their touch was but a whisper, discrete, sensual; it may me feel desired. I took enormous satisfaction in this demonstration of erotic affection.

“Love me.” “Want me,” my soul bid as I displayed my Manhood with pride and cockiness.

“Worship me,” I commanded.

The sylvan, mossy, carpeted ground hollowed in a hundred places wherever my stiff erection pointed at. Twitching, inviting, soliciting my life-giving Seed all too ready to bust. I ached to pour myself when looking at the moist, yet parched Earth. As I moved on, huge mushrooms sprouted, assuming grotesque, obscene shapes. Drooling sugary and savory, viscous nectar, they curved and bent like sunflowers following the crowned, golden face.

My face.

I am so handsome. I am so beautiful.

I would penetrate myself if I could…

The air filled progressively with a cloud of minute spores, making me feel an itch I knew quite well, and itch that demanded to be appeased. Intendedly, I touched one of the monstrous fungi with my hip. A surge of heat set my heart racing and made my knees go weak in an instant.

It was over.

It was clear to me.

The trees were other Selves.

They were My Echoes, those who have and are succumbing to indescribable, perverted longings as we speak. I saw it all too clearly. Pools of concentrated Lust mirrored a thousand reflections. Men of all ages, hailing from every direction, walking every path of life; all caught in the same maelstrom. They have never been in control; it is their primal Lust who pulls their strings. All there is left for them is to obey the primordial drive. Each and every one was a reflection. They were all Me.

The grassy mounds groaned as they throbbed in the usual pelvic motions. Trees entwined, jerking licentiously as they rubbed their bark; twisting root and branch, sodomizing each other in every possible way. Each and every one caught in a mindless, restless, endless, relentless spiral of Lust.

I cared not.

All that mattered to me was the quenching of the fiery itch raging through me. My body begged to be fed the oozing juice of my own lewdness, even though I knew drinking from the cup of the bulging toadstools would make me ever thirstier.

I cared not.

Even if it meant an eternity in this hopeless forest, I had to fill and be filled.

Just as I squatted to gorge my lower self on the never-ending feast of fungal flesh, I caught on a wisp of His scent. The last leaf before the arrival of a stark, somnolent drought of awareness fell off and drifted in the wind onto my hands. Such a tiny plume, a mere whiff, an intriguing aroma not unlike my own. A scent I perceived the very moment my journey began. Hours ago. Days ago. Years ago.

A thousand lives ago.

Roasted chestnut. Allspice. Aged cheese. Moist soil. Rock salt. Ale.

I must know the origin of the scent.

Searching for the source, I left the miry, thorny thicket, like He who, when lost in the forest, finds an old, forgotten, overgrown trail He used to hike in young age. I knew I had walked this path before. The familiar smell became stronger. I picked on the pace. Feeling that excitement you experience when you know you are on the right way, I ran past through the woods.

I ran to the encounter with He I had been looking for for so long.

The forest cleared somewhat. There, the musk was the strongest.

I could feel His presence.

He was near, yet nowhere to be seen.

I smiled.

Somehow, I knew, deep within, all was as it is supposed to be. It was good. It was perfect. How different this modest glade felt in contrast to the kaleidoscopic swamp I had just gone through. The Lust had not gone anywhere, though, and that made me grin mischievously; I knew it was a part of me, an aspect of myself. I looked at my body and rejoiced in narcissistic, guilt-free contemplation of its beauty; I knew I needed no one’s permission to enjoy myself. Emerging from my thick, bushy crotch, a mighty Tower rose up; a triumphant sword against the sky. It glimmered with the same syrup I had seen leaking from those gigantic mushroom heads.

I closed my eyes and beamed as I saw myself not running from the vegetable phalli, but shamelessly riding them once and again with vim, gusto and abandon. How much honey overfloweth from my insatiable hole! I threw my arms in the air. I had found it.

I had found the source of the scent, right in my own pits.

I am that I am.

As I masturbated my Penis in my holy name, feasting on my Musk, on my own Lust, I felt His breath behind my neck. I knew his scent because it was my own. Firm and heavy hands embraced my chest and abdomen comforting, fondling, teasing, reassuring. His curls and shaggy beard tickled and scratched as He too whispered in my ear:

“I am that I am.”

His voice was rich, melodic, virile, and, o, so deep. I had heard it many times, I realized, in the rustling of leaves in autumn, in the booming thunder right before a storm, in the content moaning of a dozen Men greatly aroused.

He groped my shoulders, my thighs, my glutes, making me shudder with pleasure. He brought His left hand in front of me and began stroking my Cock with expertise that surpassed my own a hundredfold. He pressed His broad, generous, hairy pectorals against my upper back. His right hand slid down my crack, and his stout, middle finger picked the lock to my lower gate like a seasoned thief, finding little, if any, resistance. When he licked my nape, I began to growl and howl; my sternum broke open as the piercing voice of His Light, My Light, spoke through my chest:

I AM THAT I AM

My heart beat with the pulse of entire universes. He stood before Me. A being of fire, and horn, and light.

“What is there to fear?”

He pointed at the parading galaxies before my eyes, at the birth and destruction of stars, at the rise and decline of entire civilizations.

TAT TVAM ASI

“What is there to fear?”

Back in the glade, the Horned One said:

The Horned God, artwork by the author.

“You are the Master,”

…as He fell to His knees to worship Me.

I grabbed Him by the Horns and made Him behold my brow as I shoved my Manhood into Him.

Back in the glade, the Horned One said:

“You are the Slave,”

…as he spread my legs opened and rammed the Beast into Me.

He made Me shed tears of pain, pleasure, happiness and utter surrender.

Back in the glade, I said:

Beloved Dominic Vine, thank You for your Light!

“and I am the One that transcends and integrates it all,”

…as I masturbated my Penis amidst the twilight of the serene glade.

I could feel His Presence.

He wasn’t out there, though.

He wasn’t exactly within, either.

This was the supreme heresy, the boldest profanity, the greatest indecency:

I am both the Son of the Divine Masculine and the Divine Masculine Himself.

I had left on a journey to seek The Beast and I found Him.

I am many things.

I am every thing.

I am that I am.

What is there to fear?

I am the Beast.

*

I lied naked on the dewy grass, savoring the beauty and bounty of the Earth unfolding before my eyes. A warm tenderness, a clarity of mind and heart made me smile with an innocence I thought I would never experience after I had awoken to the harshness and cruelty of the blind and the confounded as a child. This purity was not born out of ignorance, but knowledge, experience and acceptance of my humanity and its duality. As long as I remained here, as long as I played this game, I would experience them: happiness and sadness; pleasure and pain; longing and satisfaction; hunger and satiety; male reasoning and female intuition; the vitality of the young and the slow pace of the old.

I have drunk from them all.

I have been both the hunter and the prey. The parent and the child. The teacher and the student. The lord and the servant. The ally and the enemy.

I have taken life. I have spared life. I have broken hearts. I have mended hearts. I have sinned. I have sought atonement. I have built great monuments and laid them to ruins. I have spoken terrible curses…

And I have forgiven he who is the most difficult to forgive:

Myself.

I lie naked on the sweet grass, watching sunlight filtering through the canopy of the trees. No matter how dark, light always finds a way through. Dancing insects busily take care of their young, their business, their little battles, their little games of power. We are all characters in the Divine Play, and the Playwright himself. Everything is as it is. Everything is as it should be. The fire still burns within me; it will ever do so. Though a gentle candle at the moment, it can, at my will, expand and grow as fiery as the blazing sun. All is as intended, as I intended, for that fire is what makes possible the manifestation of every desire.

So much suffering.

So much beauty.

So much lust.

So much love.

I laughed.

I wept.

“Now you can truly choose,” I told myself.

*

Dedicated with love and gratitude to all the Men of the Brotherhood.

Love yourself

In order to love others, you must be able to love yourself first. Fill your own cup of self-love that you may then pleasure others. There are no expectations, no judgement, no need to prove anything to anyone. Playfully explore yourself. Get to know yourself. Celebrate yourself. In order to love others, you must be able to love yourself first. Fill your own cup of self-love that you may then pleasure others. There are no expectations, no judgement, no need to prove anything to anyone. Playfully explore yourself. Get to know yourself. Celebrate yourself.

Truth

I embrace the Truth of Your Light and Warmth. I witness the Power and Pleasure that enlivens and inspires me to tap into abundant, generous, noble Masculinity. In You, for You and through You I too grow tall, merry and proud, Phallus. I become You. I am You.

Newcomer to the Garden of Cock – Part IV

Erotic fiction and metaphors on some of the practices and beliefs of our Brotherhood

Our Hero’s mystic and sexual journey into the mysteries of the Lord Phallus, His new, chosen God, continues. In this, the fourth part in the series, an important conversation takes place. He is told he must travel to the vast wilderness to meet “The Beast,” a fragment of His spiritual whole, if He is to find authentic liberation and fulfillment of His nascent, truest sexual Self. For the first part, please click here. For the second, please click here. For the third, please click here.

My Teacher, my Guide, had taken me in His arms and revealed, once again, the Radiant Brow of the Divine Masculine. As I was fed the Spiritual Seed and Essence of the Father and Son of Man, I began to realize the common bond that links all Men together as Children of God, as fractals of God Himself. My heart opened to this understanding as the Lord sodomized my mouth both physically and spiritually. For an instant, illusory separation was dispelled, and I was both the Master and the Disciple. Memories of Men who have savored His Lust paraded in my mind’s eye. I was both the virile, robust Knight and his faithful Squire, one out of several farm and stableboys so very well acquainted with the musk behind his mail chausses. I was both the Head of the Scribes, a scholarly Monk going through a faith crisis after the discovery of an obscene, heretical Latin text, and the generous, middle-aged, fatherly Abbot who so graciously comforted Him with the robust Body of God both at dusk, and at dawn.

Every single Man experiencing and expressing His Many Lusts…

I was them all, for all Men are one in Him.

Following Holy Cummunion imparted by my Mentor, I seemed to feel stronger; it was as if a surge of invigorating vitality had been set into motion within me. I could swear my Penis felt and looked heavier, thicker. I looked at my Tool with a mixture of surprise and admiration, and, much to my amazement, He immediately responded by becoming engorged, sporting, in a couple seconds, a glorious, arrogant erection.

“And so much more is yet to come,” said a voice I recognized in an instant.

I turned to face Alexandros who grinned wickedly at the sight of my Boner. Before I knew what happened, He had knelt before Me and began to suck my Cock, giving me the most amazing oral service I had ever received in my entire life. I went wild with pleasure as He devoured my Dick and made love to Him. Enraptured, my knees went weak, my legs quivered and my very Soul moaned in ecstasy.

“Hold to Your Seed, my Child. Save your Strength.” He paused and added, “You will need your full Potency and Zeal if your Education is to continue today.”

“In case You wondered,” He said while fondling my turgid, drooling Cock, “Your Penis did grow. It wasn’t just your Dick, Your body, mind and soul have all changed somewhat. It is not my doing, though; You willed it to happen. I just gave You back a tiny portion of Your Power because you desired so.” I stared at Him in confusion; I did not seem to be able to follow Him.

“Look around You, Child. Earlier you seemed slightly disappointed the House of God seemed quite empty. You must awaken to the fact that whatever is displayed before Your eyes is actually your own creation.”

What did He mean I created this? How could that be? Was this all not the work of God?

“Yes, it is. Therefore, it is also Your creation,” He replied as if reading my mind, “Everything is in God. You are a fractal, an aspect of the Divine, thus, You too are God Itself, Himself, Herself, Themselves, Ourselves, Yourself, Yourselves, Myself. You are not a victim of circumstances; You are actively creating this reality.”

I knew I had heard these insights before, but I could still neither believe nor fathom them.

“It is quite a beautiful One,” He said as He appraised the Temple and smiled at the colored light filtered through the windows, the masonry. “That is my opinion. Nostalgic, simple, vast, organic, ancient, subtle, mystical, faerie-like. This Temple is different for every Man who lusts. I have seen countless renditions of this Temple. Many resemble each other, yet they are all unique. I like Yours a lot,” He said, beaming at Me.

“If this is, at least in part, my creation, why was I let down? How come I do not recognize it?”

“Some of the greatest artists are never entirely satisfied with their craft. On the other hand, because of the fragmentation Humans chose to experience, the conscious mind has a hard time keeping up with everything You fear, long, value and disregard.” Placing His firm hand on my back He invited Me to look again.

“This Temple, Your Temple, exists in a fluid reality that is not as dense as the One Your conscious mind is anchored in. It will take a shape defined by the sum of Your desires. But that is not all,” He emphasized while looking at me in the eye, “The Divinity will show You the visage You desire and are ready to see. I will be, for You, anything You want Me to be.”

I looked at Him with puzzlement and awe, unsure of what to say, unsure of what I felt.

“Your Heart longs for liberation. You cannot evolve until you break the chains constraining the Animal Lust you secretly want to express and indulge.” He added:

“I shall send You to Him.”

“To whom?” I inquired.

“To the Beast!” He exclaimed solemnly.

I seemed to hesitate and flinch. He laughed out loud.

“Are you scared?” He asked mischievously. He locked eyes with Me. I tried to shy away from His gaze and found I could not. “Do You too fear Your Reflection in the Mirror?”

“Decades of indoctrination and fear-mongering are not easily removed. Your parents, teachers and ministers taught You to fear Him. At this moment, however, you begin to realize there is something they did not tell You: the Beast is but an aspect of Yourself. Even though You are afraid of Him, You are also drawn to Him. I wonder what face He will show to You. At dusk, You will find out.”

“What if,” I stuttered, “what if I decide not to meet Him?”

“You will stop making progress and achieve a partial capstone on this, your current path,” He explained softly, “You will retrace your steps back to your ordinary, sedentary, monotonous and repetitive life. From time to time you will wonder what lies ahead, and you will wish you had been brave enough to follow your Heart. Your cravings will not cease, though. You will continue to entertain Yourself with mundane pleasures, albeit lesser ones.”

“My Boy,” He continued as if anticipating my thoughts, my feelings, “I am not trying to seduce You, to turn you to the ‘Dark Side of the Force.’ You Yourself already did. You gave Your consent the very moment You bent the knee before Me. You wept in bliss like child as I fed You what You ached to receive; Your Soul cried with glee, as my Sons, Your Brothers, filled Your Chalice and as You filled Theirs once and again. Have you already forgotten? I am a Voice from Your Inner Self taking You back to a state of awareness you hid away within Yourself out of fear. There is no turning back. My Fiery Seed ignited the Fire of His Lust Within You. You shall dominate this Fire or be consumed by it; quenching it is no longer an option. You already are a Slave to this Lust. You will either succumb to It, master It, or transcend It through Integration. Those are the cards You have laid before Yourself.”

Deep inside I knew He was right.

“Will I see You again?” I asked.

“Sooner than You think,” He replied.

As much as I loved Him, I knew I did not want to stagnate and spend an eternity in my current state. I desired much more. I was not stepping back.

He blessed me again—that His Holy Seed could nourish Me on my quest—and, without looking back, I left the Tower of Man, and ventured into the Forest of Alluring Darkness.

Roasted chestnut. Allspice. Aged cheese. Moist soil. Rock salt. Ale.

The scent would either take me to the Beast or bring the Beast to Me.

The Path of the Phallic Fire

Men who walk the Path of the Phallic Fire seek no mere “release” of their sexual energy. They 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥 it, they 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 to it, they 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 it and they 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 in it. They 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 to dwell within the endless Tower of His Lust. Your Lust. My Lust. Our Lust.

from https://t.co/zi83NcNiUh