Newcomer to the Garden of Cock – Part II

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

This is the second part to the mystic and sexual journey of a Man who has recently opened his Heart to Phallus, and become his devotee. For the first part, please click here.

My initiation had been intensely vivid; a powerful encounter with what I came to understand, rationally and emotionally, as my sexual and spiritual self. Those Men, My Brothers, my Teacher insisted, were different aspects of my own self. My mind, however, had not yet fully awakened; it had still to realize the great and many possibilities of authentic Phallic Awareness. Allow me to tell you, in much greater detail, how I came to choose the name Diogenes, my Name within the Brotherhood. Allow me to tell you how Mighty Lord Penis changed me the evening I first approached The Tower of Man.

I told you of the miraculous transfiguration of Alexandros, the leader, and the deep, intimate and enlightening sexual encounters with His two disciples. Following my one-on-one initiation with each of them, I was to experience the full power of what Alexandros called The Most Animal Lust.

“Fill Him to the brim with Cock.” He had commanded, and that is literally what they did.

Under the stern gaze of the Master of the Tower, the Mature Alpha Male known as Aeneas, and Ganymede, the Young Man I had mistakenly regarded as exclusively submissive, put aside every instance of modesty and turned me into a piece of flesh they used, groped and sodomized with unreal vigor and zeal. I seemed to lose myself amidst the waves of their unleashed, and seemingly unending wanton barrage. After the instruction to break my Ego, they treated me like the cheapest whore; there was not a single time one of their Cocks was not gaping one of my holes. I was called all sorts of names, urinated, spat on and sexually manhandled in every possible way.

At first, it hurt tremendously. It hurt my Ego as a Man. The Man called Aeneas, who had so fondly and gently made love to Me just minutes before, was now harsh and aggressive, completely oblivious to the discomfort He caused me; all that mattered to Him then, was the satisfaction of the unrelenting Power between his legs. The Mighty Daddy Bull would hold my head in place with his strong hands and fuck my mouth, bringing tears to my eyes as I gagged and choked. He pulled my hair like he meant to tear off my scalp as he sodomized me, making me howl as my back arched and my thighs shuddered. He would ask if He was being rough enough, if I was getting what I wanted. He said a bitch like me did not deserve any less.

Nonetheless, it was Ganymede who gave the final and definite blow to my inner walls. Earlier on, He had looked so boyish and vulnerable; now He appeared before my eyes as an Adonis in the prime of His Youth and Prowess. While His Cock was not as thick as Aeneas’, it was considerably longer, which made it even more impressive; every thrust by His awe-inspiring sword made me feel like my innards where being stabbed. While Aeneas spoke little, simply handling my body any way He pleased by the means of his amazing physical strength, Ganymede was very verbal; He exerted dominance by bossing me around. At first, I could not bear to look at Him in the eye and meet His mocking gaze. He seemed to take much delight in my humiliation.

“I could hear each and every one of your thoughts as you fucked me earlier,” He said. “Look at yourself dance at the mercy of my Cock and answer me with the heart. Which of us is the true slut now?”

At last, I surrendered.

A part of my consciousness shifted and I witnessed myself at the most sexually receptive I had been in my entire life. I could not believe the look of sheer ecstasy amidst the agony of pleasure and pain on the grimace of my face. Covered in dirt, and sweat, and cum, I moaned, panted and hollered like an animal as I took their unbridled Lust with utter abandon. Before my eyes, crimson spots of the densest kind of Lust seemed to dance around us as those Men unleashed their Male Beast upon me. As soon as I gave up, I saw myself loving every single bit of that mad, lascivious dance of excess. Even though I looked at myself with astonishment, I somehow knew it was My will that allowed for all of this to happen.

I wanted it all.

And I wanted more.

“I am. I am!” I cried in defeat.

“You are what?” demanded Aeneas and Ganymede at unison.

“I am a slut! I am a slut!” I repeated as if fighting for air.

Aeneas’ Cock grew unbelievably fatter as He plowed my wrecked asshole even more ferociously. From my deepest self, I let out a loud scream of ecstasy that seemed to both echo across space and hang in midair, like solid, thick fog. I felt as if I had been stripped of my very skin, of all masks, all layers, all lies.

Aeneas then spoke, once again with the deep, compassionate Daddy Voice I had fallen in love with.

“You are a slut for what?”

“I am a slut for Man. I am a slut for Cock,” I wept in liberation.

Somebody embraced me. It was Alexandros. He was standing, or rather floating next to me. The air around us shimmered. Beneath us it was dark and red, above us it was pink and gold. He brought my attention to my right and I gasped as I saw a vision of Aeneas carrying me in his arms with Ganymede by his side towards the Tower.

“Am I dead?” I asked in shock.

“You have never been more alive,” He replied as He motioned for me to look.

The two men took me to a warm pool. There they gave me a bath; gently, fondly. Their touch was warm and affectionate. They uncorked a bottle of a perfumed oil that smelled like orange blossom and rubbed it on me with the patience of the ages. It felt as if they were painting or writing something on me with their fingers rather than simply applying it. As Aeneas massaged me, Ganymede whispered or sang almost inaudible verses.

It was an ode of gratitude to the Divine Masculine, for bringing His Brother back to Him.

He breathed the words onto me, into me; when He pressed His nose against my neck, I felt a cascade of a tingling yet soothing energy fall lazily upon me. Aeneas pressed his hairy chest against my back and, bringing his arms and hands in front of me, He delicately squeezed my nipples sending waves of slow-moving electric fire across my body.

While I am at loss for words to describe what it all actually felt like, the truth is I was hard in an instant. I had never felt so tenderly loved and sexually aroused at the same time. Aeneas tightened his muscular embrace and leaned back, making me rest on his chest. As He gently pulled me back with brawny hands upon my pectoral muscles, He guided His Mighty Member into my Hole, thrusting it deep in an initial penetration that seemed to last forever.

I was a point in empty space that He filled with His Light, expanding, reaching out in all directions, growing ad infinitum.

Aeneas sang this time:

“My Son, you come, at last, back to Us.”

He sang as he penetrated me the most slowly I have ever been fucked.

I was in Heaven, being rocked in my Father’s arms as he filled me with His Love.

But I had yet to experience more.

As Aeneas pulled Himself out of me, Ganymede slowly spread my legs and began to penetrate me with His Shaft of Light, which seemed to have no beginning and no end, making me sing His Name in Praise and Adoration.

“My Brother, you come, at last, back to Us,” He declared.

And I looked at my Brother with playful eyes, and he looked back at me. And we knew it was as it once had been, as it ever has been between us. And we smiled.

No sooner had he taken His Beautiful Wand of Infinity, Father Aeneas was sliding His Scepter of Authority into my soul once again. Ganymede climbed on top of me and, ever so slowly, He began to impale Himself onto my diamond-hard Manhood.

Drowning in rapturous pleasure I knew it was my turn to speak at last:

“My Father, My Brother…”

“At last I come back to you.”

“In seeking Honesty I have found Myself. In seeking myself I have pushed aside the chains of false morals to partake of the Celebration of our common Manhood.”

“We are Men, and this is the Brotherhood of Men who love Men.”

“Among you, I shall be known as Diogenes.”

The Manstink Redemption

Give me that sexy, ripe male funk anytime!

Retrieved from www.awakeningart.it

There was a time when Men were not afraid to be Men.

There was a time when Men acted like Men; when Men spoke like Men, played like Men, looked like Men and smelled like Men.

It is not my intention to prescribe what Masculinity should be like; I simply affirm the right to be yourself. At a time when people are reclaiming the primordial, natural and unalienable right to be themselves, we must emancipate from rigid, vertical and monolithic lists of thou shall and thou shall not’s in order to find our own voice.

Some of us Men are naturally drawn to #manstink, and the Brotherhood of Cock welcomes us with open arms, for we respect and celebrate consensual expressions of male sexuality as positive desires originating within the Divine Masculine. I honestly do not know whether this is something you are born with or a taste you acquire as you go on. The old born or made debate is not very relevant in any case, I believe; if man stench turns you on, you are far from alone:

“LOVE the musky smell of sweaty men… balls, hole, pits… and the ripe clothes they’ve worn. I grew up sniffing my Dad’s dirty undies then moved on to others, neighbors’ dad, college roomies, etc.”

Goodguybadboyfl (2010). Retrieved from the justusboys forums.

I smile when I recall I used to think I was the only sniff freak in the world. Should I share this anecdote once again? I shall do so, if only because it arouses me so much! From my From Mouth to Ass essay on my now defunct Cock is God tumblr:

“I began to realize I was a PIG when I found out how much I loved to smell my older cousin’s dirty underwear.

NOBODY TAUGHT ME SUCH BEHAVIOR or MODELED IT FOR ME.

As a pre-teen back in the early days when internet penetration was minimal and I hadn’t even dreamed porn would become so abundant and available, one day, when nobody was home, I found myself digging through his laundry basket, picking up the funkiest piece of underwear, and inhaling the rank, manly, teenager odors on it like it was the most natural, spontaneous thing to do.”

I imagine myself, now an adult, going back in time to guide, comfort and reassure my younger self, so full of guilt and shame; to remind him there is nothing to fear, nothing to forgive when partaking of the holy sacrament of embracing yourself.

You need no one’s permission to be yourself.

That morning, all alone with myself, with the Universe, I had one of the most profound encounters with the Divine Masculine. Unbeknownst to me, I worshiped Him for the first time then. I fell on my knees as I held the Golden Fleece of His stinky underwear, a forbidden fruit ripe with His Musk. The briefs, I now realize, were not my cousin’s…

…they were God’s.

My heart beat ferociously as I brought His savory, overwhelming stench to my face. It would still take years for me to stop resisting Cock, to defeat poisonous guilt, to happily embrace who I was meant to become, who I wanted to become, but at that time of reality-shattering epiphany, deep inside, I understood it all.

With ego humiliated by the insurmountable power of a lust I had never experienced, I groveled as the concentrated #manstink flooded my nostrils, my mind, my very soul. Greedily did I feast; a starving buck hungrily devouring the primeval essence of Manhood as if deprived from it for a lifetime.

I could not get enough of it.

With the perfume and ointment of Cock, of Balls, of Cheese, of Ass, of Urine, of Precum still washing over me, I realized, without the slightest hint of doubt, I had found myself.

I had found God.

Decades of negative conditioning, one before this first encounter with the Divine Masculine, and two following it, created a deep feeling of shame that I have gradually managed to overcome. Eventually, one “gives in” and embraces as much as possible from one’s spectrum of sexual expression. Not doing so greatly frustrates, sours, and twists Men’s psyche and emotional body.

At Temple Priapus, we understand the process of healing from so much toxicity and negativity towards one sexuality can be a lengthy one, but one that can be better engaged when one counts with help and encouragement from loving Brothers.

We men tend to be pragmatic by nature, so after some rationalization and expression of your feelings, brotherly counseling and intervention will focus on plenty of encounters with the object(s) of your desires. If you too love #manstink, know that there are many Brothers out there who share the same lust; no one understands you better. With arms wide open, they await your return to the fold. Long have you been on a pilgrimage. Come forth and rest in the promised land of your Brother’s ripe pits. Find redemption in your Brother’s heavenly, thick and stinking crotch.

Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.

I am human, and I think nothing human is alien to me.

Terence.
The author, enjoying his ripe, musky armpits during a worship session.

Hail the God Cock!

The Choice For Pleasure

Phallic Sexual Fulfillment can heal us

Many traditions depict reality on Earth as one of unavoidable suffering. Take the Christian concept of the Vale of Tears, for example. Under the original sin and the weak and wicked human nature concepts, mankind has been tricked into accepting a reality of weeping and gnashing of teeth in both life and the afterlife! While I believe some suffering is definitely an undeniable component of human experience, the problem with the excessive–almost fetishist–elevation and idealization of suffering is that it turns us into helpless, masochistic, blindly complying, status quo-accepting, disempowered, victimized individuals oblivious to the fact that this reality is being created collectively by each and every of us.

At Temple Priapus we believe that joyous, responsible, consensual, guilt-free sexual fulfillment is always a healthier choice than the perverted suppression of thought and desire.

From my essay Reflections on Pleasure, Suffering and Reality:

“The repression of sexuality makes most of us sick. This is one of the reasons, I believe, why only few people manage to achieve moksha (liberation) under traditional dharmic prescribed practices. Turning our backs on the physical to pursue the spiritual usually short-circuits us, simply because we are experiencing, by choice, a physical experience.”

Gautama Buddha, taught that not getting what one wants causes suffering. Man’s primordial desire is to love and feel loved, to connect with other human beings. It is natural to reach out to the other, to bond at physical, emotional, intellectual, cultural, spiritual and sexual levels. Denying ourselves of these interactions defeats the purpose of the game of life, and smothers the soul.

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As an alternative to the traditional paradigms of deterministic stoicism, martyred inhibition, fear, violence, self-flagellation and control, all so firmly in place by the dominant powers that be and their hate of joy and pleasure, we propose embracing the latter two for they are better aligned with our true nature.

What comes natural to humans is not to hurt, stifle, kill, hate and destroy, but to love, connect, inquire, support, grow. When people’s most essential needs are taken care of, when their autonomy, potential and desire for self-expression are respected and nourished, the outcome is happy, emotionally-healthy, confident and creative human beings who want to make of Earth a garden, a better place for all.

By withholding and sabotaging their phallic selves, interconnection and desires, most men have been turned into potentially dangerous, emotionally and sexually frustrated individuals, angry at others, angry at the world and angry at themselves.

We believe positive Phallicism, that is, reclaiming our right to savor, indulge and share our Penises and their gifts, can help heal these wounds via the celebration of much denied pleasure and the renewal of a spirit of camaraderie, brotherhood and intimacy which the Male Mysteries foster and nurture.

The expression of our sexual selves in their rich diversity is a Divine Right. No one can take it away from us. As fractals of the Source, we carry the spark of the Divine within. We need no one’s sanction to enjoy ourselves, to be ourselves.

As long as your sexual play and worship are respectful of other people’s free will, bring harm to no one and are honest and consensual in their interaction with others, they must be cherished without shame, without guilt.

For some of us, this phallic practice might take the shape of spiritual, solosexual masturbation. For others it might mean becoming teachers at the Temple, guiding Men into these Mysteries. For some it might be the renewal of a phallic connection with Nature and the spiritual world. For some it might mean being worshiped as avatars of the God and wielding their warrior Cocks into the ritualistic placating of their Brothers’ hunger…

“I savor every inch of throbbing meat both furiously and tenderly penetrating fellow opening, welcoming masculinity, brothers bonding in lust and the compassionate understanding of each other’s needs and desires.

Sweaty, teary, smelly, raunchy, loving ecstatic agony of arching, pulsing, undulating, vibrating, convulsing fresh recreating the Universe; fucking it into existence at the spot in time and place where mine, yours, and all labels disappear, where the entire past and future, all blur into a singularity of orgasmic, orgiastic nothingness and fullness.”

Long have we chosen to hide away our sexuality in the basements and attics of our fear and shame because we were taught it was evil, dirty to the eyes of god. The divine shows you the countenance you want to see.

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We invite you to choose differently.

Choose beauty, choose honesty, choose pleasure, joy and brotherhood.

Choose Men.

Choose your True Self.

Choose Cock!

Icon of Power

From my late Cock is God blog.

February 13, 2018

Icon of Power (lower res)

Several years ago, so many that the paper has yellowed somewhat, I started this IDOL of HOMOSEXUAL POWER, but, at a time when I was not ready to fully embrace the LEWDNESS of my HOMOSEXUAL DESIRES, I could not bear to look at it. It was a reminder of my ‘DEVIATION’, of my ‘FILTH’, of my ‘SINFUL WEAKNESS’. I put it away, but I never forgot it. The IDOL became ALIVE in my HEART every time I FUCKED or was FUCKED, every time I WAS FED CUM, every time I BEAT MY COCK and MADE my SEED FLY when greedily WATCHING MEN in PORNOGRAPHY.

I TRIED TO FIGHT COCK, I TRIED TO FIGHT MY LUST…

..and SELF-DENIAL and SUPPRESSION always ended in DEFEAT…My HOMOSEXUALITY is not just a “PART” of who I am, it is the FOUNDATIONAL, SPIRITUAL and EMOTIONAL FRAMEWORK of my ENTIRE SELF and PERSONALITY.

When OVERWHELMED by my LUST, as I SURRENDERED my ASSHOLE to be IMPALED by my GOD, MASTER and LOVER, I saw it reflected in the ALPHA’S EYES, EYES BLINDED BY, ULTIMATELY, THE SAME LUST:

“IF YOU WOULD ATTEMPT TO RESIST ME, YOU MIGHT AS WELL TRY RIPPING YOUR HEART OUT.

YOU MAY CLOISTER YOURSELF AWAY FOR A HUNDRED YEARS, BUT IN THE END, I WILL ALWAYS FIND MY WAY INTO YOU…

WE CANNOT BE SEPARATED.

I AM COCK.

I AM YOU.”

Back in my home country, returned as a CONFIRMED and UNAPOLOGETIC DISCIPLE of COCK LUST and PLEASURE, I picked up this ICON again, completed the PEACH, the stylized BUSHY PUBES and the INSCRIPTION on the RIGHT. From the beginning it was meant to be in Chinese ideograms because I believe that, as visual symbols, they are stronger than the letters of the Latin Alphabet.

It reads:

HOMOSEXUAL, BIG COCK SEMEN POWER.

MAY the DIVINE SEED of MAN FLOW FREELY in the LIVES of the DISCIPLES of OUR BROTHERHOOD.

MAY BROTHERS FEED and INJECT IT DEEP WITHIN EACH OTHER, SHARING THEIR FIERY BOND of LOVE, LUST and BROTHERHOOD.

MAY IT RENEW and REKINDLE THE GOD COCK’S GIFTS of MANHOOD, VIRILITY, POWER, PLEASURE, JOY and BROTHERLY KINSHIP and CAMARADERIE.

Just as our HUNGER and THIRST for YOU, LORD, CANNOT BE EXTINGUISHED, MAY YOUR DIVINE SEED FLOW ENDLESSLY, ETERNALLY, into the CHALICE of OUR SOULS.

MIGHTY IS THE NAME OF OUR GOD!

WE WORSHIP YOU, WE CELEBRATE YOU, PENIS, PRIAPUS!

WE LONG for the SPIRITUAL SACRAMENT of YOUR COMMUNION, as we MASTURBATE YOU, as we SHOVE YOU into our BROTHERS’ WORSHIPING MOUTHS and ASSHOLES.

THEIR MOUTHS and ASSHOLES KNOW YOUR NAME. A NAME THAT CANNOT BE FORGOTTEN.

BEAUTIFUL and VIRILE HORNED-ONE, FATHER, TEACHER, LOVER and BROTHER TO ALL MEN…

WE WORSHIP YOU!

HAIL COCK!

Newcomer to the Garden of Cock

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

On the odyssey of my life, I, ever a seeker, entered a forest of alluring darkness. I feared not, though, for below the swirling canopy there was a scent not unlike my own. 

Roasted chestnut. Allspice. Aged Cheese. Moist soil. Rock Salt. Ale.

I did not fear because the smell made me feel like Home.

Amidst the thicket, I beheld a mighty Tower rise up; a triumphant sword against the sky.

The Tower stood tall, arrogant, proud, stout, luminous and beautiful beyond words.

“Behold the Key that undoes all locks,” a voice said. A young Man wearing nothing but copper earrings came out of the bush and knelt before the Tower.

“Behold the Iron Rod that fits and fills all spaces.” said a second, Mature Man. He walked past me, completely naked except for a silver band he wore in his ring finger. Enthralled  by the exuberance of the Tower, loudly did he say, as he knelt before it:

“Behold the Battering Ram that breaches all gates.”

A third Man wearing a gold pentacle on a chain, approached us from the Tower and thus spoke:

 “Behold the Sceptre of Sovereignty, Writ of Heaven,  Voice of the East, All-Father, Grandfather, High Priest, Pontifex, Deliverer of those in need, Benefactor of the hungry, Consort to the Divine Feminine, Keeper of the Secret Garden of Men, Impaling Victor, King of Kings, Raider of all ports, Conqueror of the Citadel, Bane of the Proud, Pride of the Endowed, Elder Stag, Billy Goat, Prized Bull, Chieftain, Beloved Husband, Divining Rod, Lord of Sodom, Fist of God.”

“All His Sons,” he added while looking at me in the eye, “shall bend the knee before Him.”

I knew it in an instant.

I found He who I had been looking for.

My heart beat ferociously as I approached the One Who Wore the Sun. His age was indescribable; at times he seemed older, at others he looked younger.  His body pulsed with flowing vitality and intoxicating masculinity and libido. Whatever form was shown to me, it appeared to cater to my desires, to my lust past, present…

…and future.

He was the source of the sweet and savory musk.

The orchard was His.

He was the Tower.

When I came before Him, excited, captivated, I was surprised to see He looked a lot like me. Perhaps it was I who looked a lot like Him. We were alike, and yet different; He was a more perfect me, a fuller me, but he was all the Men I had loved at the same time. When He smiled at me, He had the twinkle of the first Man I had sex with, the cadence of the Man I loved the most (he would eventually break my heart), the jadedness of my high school crush, the confidence and experience of the Man who introduced me to the local leather scene.

My knees jerked and gave way, intentionally or unintentionally.

“Pray tell me,” I begged in defeat, “who are You who wield this Power over me?”

“I am,” he replied, “your Heart’s innermost desire. I am Who You seek. I am the embodiment of your truest, freest Self. I am You. I am who You choose Me to be. Fight no more. Resist no more.” At last He bid:

“Meet my gaze my Son.”

“I AM COCK, YOUR GOD.”

He rose. Towering. Beckoning.

And I came to His Fold with newfound purpose. Before my baptism I had just sucked Cock. Having found God, from then on I served Men, I served Penis, my own and my Brothers’. I worshiped Him with passion, with unflinching devotion and an elated heart. I allowed Cock to inebriate my senses and vanquish any hint of doubt. I worship the God who truly loves me, a God that cannot tell lies.

I worshiped him until tears of joy and gratitude rolled down my cheeks.

“To please Your God, is to please Yourself,” He said when feeding me the Seed of Man.

“To Worship Your God is to Worship creation itself.”

*

“You have learned of the Self. Now you shall learn of the Other.” He motioned me to stand and brought my attention towards the Young Man with the copper earrings kneeling on my left.

“You must learn of Brotherhood.”

“This Man is Your Son, Your Nephew, Your Grandson, Your Younger Brother, Your Slut…

…your Boy.”

Looking at Him, he appeared to me as the most beautiful flirt I had laid eyes upon. So young, so sweet, so soft, so fresh to pick. While I was wildly aroused, Boy looked so young I could not tell for sure whether he was of age. I felt embarrassed that I was so turned on by his youth.

“Do not be ashamed of your hesitation, my Son,” the Pentacled Man said, “for our Brotherhood is not without ethical guidelines.

Our Brotherhood is based on Love. As such, loving consent is cardinal to our practice. We believe only adults can make informed choices about partaking of the Male Mysteries.

“This one,” said The Golden One while walking towards the Boy and rubbing the Mighty Member on his beaming face, “is legal in at least 50 American States, 50 sovereign European countries, 20 Latin American países, 54 African Nations; you get the drift.”

“Boy might be young, but He is your Senior in the Brotherhood. I personally saw to his initiation. Like all my Submissive Children, He is a Whore for Cock, and He loves it.” My Mentor said all this while fondling the Young Man’s Hair and shoving his hairy balls onto Him.

“It upsets you that I speak so shamelessly and lasciviously about our Fellow Brother in His Presence, because there are many layers to your sexuality that have been repressed and suppressed for years. “

“Look at Him.”

“He too is You. He too is God.”

“Brotherhood is about compassion; it is about the understanding and celebration of each other’s desires.”

“Will you not share of yourself with your Younger Brother?”

“We all have roles to play within the Hierarchy of the Brotherhood,” He continued. “The Alpha’s main role is to sodomize Submissives into rapture by injecting God’s Virile Energy into the chalice of their Lust, and thus, into the World.”

I gave it to Him.

At first I felt uncomfortable with the Priest of God’s lewd “encouragement.”

“Teach Him.” “Tame Him.” “Fuck Him.” He would utter every so often with wanton abandon.

However, at times it felt as if the words were coming out of my own mouth. 

And Boy loved it.

And I loved it.

*

“You have learned of Alphahood. Now you shall learn of its Twin.” He motioned me to stand and brought my attention towards the Mature Man with the silver ring kneeling on my right.

“You must now learn of Submission.”

“This Man is Your Father, Your Uncle, Your Grandfather, Your Elder Brother, Your ‘Daddy’…

This Man is your Alpha.”

“Be it because of their size, their handsomeness, their endowment, their assertiveness, their deep, commanding voice; their sexual prowess, their charisma, their experience, their finesse, their discretion, their success in life, their emotional intelligence, their wits, their solid values, their independence, their strong will and determination, or any combination of the above, these men exude confidence and masculinity.”

“They are Alphas, natural Leaders, Protectors, Managers, Monarchs, Patriarchs; they are worshiped both within and outside our Brotherhood, for they teach others how to be Men.”

“This Evening you will learn of the joy that comes from sexually submitting to them.”

Something astonishing then happened. The Mature Man on the right stood up and my Guide, the Man with the Pentacle Necklace that had revealed the Face of God to me, knelt and took the former’s place! While the Young Man with the copper earrings grinned wickedly at me, I looked at the Priest of God; He no longer looked otherworldly and his form did not seem to change and shift like earlier before.

The Mature Man came to me. He was actually shorter than I was, but bulkier and in much better shape. His hair was lined with silver and his chest was full of fur all the way down to a magnificent low-hanger.

I could not take my eyes away from It.

“Unlike our High Priest, I am not too good with words. You fucked my Boy here real good… made me horny as hell to watch you two. Are you ready to take the same treatment?”

“What?” I blurted. It was not that I did not like to get fucked, I mean, technically I was still versatile. However I shuddered at the thought of this Bull sodomizing and doing to me the same nasty things I did to the Boy while He and The Priest watched us. Furthermore, I had not been fucked in quite a while, I feared I would not be able to take the Bull’s Big Cock!

Rather than jumping at my ass like I did with Boy, Mature Man acted like time did not matter. He slid his hands around my waist and, grabbing my back, he pulled me towards him. When my chest touched his, I felt a jolt in my nips that made them become unbelievably hard. In vain, my eyes tried to shy away.

“Look at me,” He commanded.

Without question I nervously obeyed.

He kind of looked like me. Or perhaps it was I who looked like Him.

With strong and steady hand, He gently pulled my head and kissed me like no one had kissed me before. He kissed me deep, he kissed me slow. He kissed me passionately, affectionately. It felt so good it almost hurt. He put his arms around me and holding me in a warm embrace, He said:

“I love You, My Son.”

I was moved to tears yet again. He held me tighter.

“That is alright,” He added while caressing my head. Then He whispered:

“Get on your all fours.”

I did what I was told.

*

Entry was not easy.

“Fight Him not,” admonished the Priest of God from the back. “Resist Him not.”

Mature Man gave me all the time I needed.

I eventually gave completely in.

The Alpha conquered me the way He had kissed me. Slowly did the Warrior subdue and invade my city. Deeply did He thrust, reaching alleys and cellars whose existence I was not yet aware of. When I was completely at His Mercy, the Priest’s Voice resounded again:

“Tonight you are to be destroyed and forged anew. It is written:

‘Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.'”

“Aeneas, Ganymede,” said the Hierophant, “show the initiate the Might and Radiance of our God. Have your way with Him. Do not hold back. Leave no crevice, no corner, no chamber unfulfilled. Shatter any remaining barrier. Silence his Ego.”

“Fill Him to the brim with Cock.”

“Yes, Alexandros,” the Alpha and the Boy replied in unison.

I dived into a whirlpool, a maelstrom of sheer, unbridled homosexual lust. Old and young took turns at sodomizing not just my anus and mouth, but my ears, my heart, my mind. They flooded my soul with poetry, liturgy and obscenity…

…and I could not have enough of it.

“You hereby, in Body, Soul and Mind, belong to Him,” said the High Priest.

“You now belong to Cock.”

*

From that day on, my name is Diogenes, shibuishi-wearing mystic, philosopher, onanist, libertine and proud acolyte of the God Cock.

Free, at last, from the shackles of my conditioning, guilt, and shame, I am finally able to truly choose who I want to be.

I choose Myself.

I choose Man.

I choose Cock!

*

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