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Manly Richards: A Story of Americock

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Editor’s Note: this piece of work is a complete and total fiction. Nothing in this work has factual, metaphorical, juxtapositional, satirical, or inter-dimensional connection to the physical world. Furthermore, every character or institution in this work is categorically separate from reality and has no factual or relational basis to anything at all.

I

The year was 2865 and Manly Richards was feeling good. He was 18 years old and newly graduated from Fatlips Cockblower School. Fat Cock was the most prestigious school in the nation and perhaps the world. Graduates were widely called Good Old Cocks, and current students affectionately called each other Little Weenies. In addition to graduation, Manly turned 18 during an odd-numbered year so he wasn’t drafted to fight in the wars. Sure he paid lip service to the troops, but he was a coward and suspected he would last five minutes tops in a training camp. Things were going well for him, and he knew it.

There was one problem though: he liked consensual sex for the purpose of procreation. In the Empire, that was a major offense. In fact, if a thought police heard the mention of a consy in a community, the entire area would be quarantined within a 50 mile radius. Even the word “consensual” was banned because it implied that humans had freedom of choice. The teepees didn’t fuck around when it came to the issue of suspected consies.

Manly knew that his whistle was clean, though. He was the official Gay on Gay Alliance (GGA) ambassador for Fat Cock and received every award available at the school in Traditional Gay Sex classes. In fact, not only had he aced the classes with flying colors, his works were considered official canon by major scholars in the field already. At the end of the summer, he would be going to New Boston, Mississippi to study under the leading scholar of homosex studies in the world: Fanny Nutsack. A Lesbian Studies expert, Nutsack led the Trad Gay movement before it was officially state-sanctioned and convinced the donors at her college to establish the first Traditional Gay Sex Studies department in the nation, the Sappho School of Historical Queerness. Manly would study under the best and brightest minds, and he knew it. The sneaking suspicion that someone would call his bluff terrified him though.

No matter. This summer would be fun. Some of his buddies were in town and they were sure to have a grand old time. Even though gay sex made him feel sick, he had to admit that no one knows how to handle a cock and balls like a dude. One friend in particular, John Nosack, really knew how to work a phallus. Having years of experience since infancy, John could suck a mean cock. Milo II legalized pedophilia in 2763 under the Nambla Decrees, and young guys like John were now mastering the art of fellatio. He also had an advantage because he lived by one principle alone: it’s not who you know, it’s who you blow.
>>
Plus, [child swimsuits] had recently released a hit new sim that was popular among people everywhere: Dick and Shorty. Depicting an elderly, alcoholic pedophile and a nerd that children and the feeble minded alike could point and laugh at, the show received great ratings. Anyone with a full-body VR suit could act out the role of Dick’s verbal abuse on both the giving and receiving end. Manly especially enjoyed the romantic elements where Dick would briefly glance at Shorty and vice versa in loving ways.

It was 6:35 pm exactly when Manly turned on his Reality Simuset to perform the newest episode of Dick and Shorty. At 6:37, he received a text that caught his attention.

II

“Get your twink ass over here ;)” from an unknown number. Manly was skeptical of the source, but the phrasing sounded familiar.

“Who’s this cuteboy?? (kiss emoji)”

“You know me and my tight little ass very well”

“Ooooohhhh, naughty naughty ;)”

“You wanna come over to my place?”

“Who is this again?”

“It’s Hairy. I mean Harry… silly me”

“Oooooo, let’s re-enact homecoming again you dirt dobbler”

“Sounds good to me. Meet me at Xanadu at 10. And bring those nice little chaps I bought you”

“Sure thing sugar balls. See you then ;)”

Manly took his Simuset helmet off and chucked it across the room. Fake water and fish flooded his apartment as his Virtuquarium simulated a real break in its hardware. Damn they’re meticulous with those things, Manly thought. His mind quickly darted to a more pressing matter: Xanadu.

God he hated that place. His secret nickname for it was Ass Blast Central. All people do there is fuck each other against their will. He secretly loathed it. As a TGS scholar though, the history of the place peaked his curiosity.

Xanadu was founded in 2054 as the first urban country club where members could buttfuck their friends and clients without their wives knowing about it. As the institution of marriage slowly faded away, however, it turned into more of an elite nightclub for rich men and their young butt sluts. Now it exclusively serves the well to do, young and old.

None of it really mattered to Manly though. He just wanted to stay at home and simulate true love. Fuck it, he muttered, I’ll go. He had a reputation to uphold.
>>
III

At 9:50, Manly stepped out of his apartment building and hailed a cab. As soon as he sat down in the back seat, he yelled “to the gayest place on Earth, and step on it.” The cab driver slowly turned around to reveal a white bandana over his face and released a moan. In a perverse re-enactment of the Kennedy assassination, the driver’s head exploded. Chunks of brain and coagulated blood hit Manly’s face and landed in his mouth. Before he knew what happened, a large black dildo connected with his head and rendered him unconscious.

IV

Manly’s eyelids fluttered. He couldn’t move anything but his head and neck. A flood light blinded him.

“Where the fu-”

A pink blur slapped him across the face. He knew those ridges from somewhere.

“Hcchou will speek when speeken to, darlen!” yelled a familiar voice with a vaguely exotic accent.

Oh shit, Manly thought. It’s Genghis.

Genghis Muhammad was one of Manly’s former classmates at Fat Cock. A Bengali prince of considerable wealth, Genghis had made a name for himself at FC for spending considerable sums on his white lovers. Manly remembered that he even bought his friend Matt a lambo in exchange for a handjob. Although Genghis had won friends with money, one thing had irked him throughout his career at Fat Cock: Manly had refused to rape him. Genghis begged and pleaded with Manly to rape him, sometimes hitting Manly with a ridged, silicone buttplug in the shape of the prophet Mohammed’s head. The efforts were fruitless though.

Genghis repulsed Manly. He had weird bumps on his butt that made Manly think he had anal herpes. More importantly, Genghis had an obscene face. All the kids at Fat Cock joked that his brood father had tried to put him back into the vat when he was an infant at the Palestinian clone lab. Regardless of the circumstances, the man was horrifying.

“Now darlen you have no choice but to plug my brown hole!” Genghis said as he raised his androgyburka over his exposed anus and pointed it toward his predator and prey. Manly accepted his fate as Genghis awkwardly waddled toward him. All of the sudden, the light flickered off, leaving the two near lovers in dark silence. Awestruck, Manly would both praise and regret the next couple of minutes for years to come.
>>
V

“In the name of Allah!” the thick accent pierced the silence.

Manly heard a physical struggle and what he believed was the sound of handcuffs snapping shut.

The lights turned on suddenly. It took Manly a moment to adjust his eyes to his surroundings.

Two white and black blurs slowly turned into men dressed in black tuxedos bedazzled with glitter. Clones of the WASP-145 variety, the men immediately struck Manly as thought police.

“What happened here?” one of the agents asked.

“He tried to rape me.” Manly said.

“Did he injure you beyond normal sexual protocols?” Agent 1 asked.

“No.” Manly said.

“What flashed through your mind as he tried to pounce on you?” Agent 2 interjected.

“I thought that he could’ve just asked me for it.”

Manly knew he was dead meat before the agents blew tranq powder up his nose.

Fuck me, Manly thought as he drifted into unconsciousness.

VI

A wave of cold woke Manly from his sleep. He was dripping wet and strapped to a chair.

Manly quickly made notes of his surroundings. Big solid metal door, cast iron table, meat-hooks on the walls, rainbow colored dildo.

Manly knew exactly where he was. The teepees brought him to the Manhattan Edugaytion Center for Concentrated Analplay. MECCA for short, the institution was notorious for converting consies into bonafide rapists. In the consy newsletters that Manly had read in seedy clubs, many stories talk about their friends who went to MECCA. They never came back with anything but rape on their minds.

The door slammed open. An old man dressed in a white lab coat carried rubber gloves in one hand and a three-foot long silicone arm and fist in the other hand.

“Hello Mr. Richards. You can probably guess where you are.”

Manly averted his gaze and stared at the floor.

“No matter. We can either do this the hard way or the harder way. In either scenario, you’re going to be mercilessly fucked until you love rape of your own accord.”

For the first time in his life, Manly stood up for himself.

“I will never love rape! Give me romance or give me death!”
>>
The man stared at Manly.

“This is going to be more difficult than I thought. Open wide.”

Manly kept his mouth closed. Suddenly, two meaty hands came from behind him and forced a medical utensil into his mouth. Within moments, Manly’s jaw was stretched almost a foot and snapped out of socket.

“I wish for your throat’s sake that we didn’t have to do this, Mr. Richards.”

The technician used both arms to point the fist directly at Manly’s mouth. He slowly approached Manly and stopped as the knuckles brushed Manly’s teeth.

“Are you re-”

Before the man finished his question, the black fist had plunged down Manly’s throat, traveled past his esophagus and entered his stomach. Tears squirted from Manly’s eyes. He had never known pain until this exact moment.

“-dy?” A smile briefly flickered over the man’s face but quickly vanished.

Everything in Manly throbbed. Imagine giving birth to 10 babies through your mouth at the same time. This was worse.

“Do you understand now why you must love rape, Mr. Richards?”

Manly’s eyes opened wide, as if to answer.

“Blink once for no, twice for yes.”

Manly managed to get one blink in before the hands held his eyes open with their sausage fingers and slipped medical hooks under them. Again, Manly squirted tears from his eyes out of sheer pain.

“So that’s a no, huh? Very naughty, Mr. Richards.”

A smile danced across the technician’s lips.

“Turn him around.”

VII

The evening after, Manly found himself at Xanadu. Something beautiful crossed his mind but extinguished before he had time to think about it.

The hit single “Rape me” by Virgina blurted out of the speakers in the walls.

Manly smiled.
>>
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>>9567680
>>
Bro what the fuck.
>>
Nice story desu, very interesting
>>
>>9567872
It's literature. Haven't you read 1984? It's the updated version applied to the Alt Right.

>>9567892
Thank you.
>>
>4 posters
>5 reactions to the story

That aside, do you think this is clever or innovative? This is just crass garbage with an adolescent sense of humour.
>>
>>9568840
I had fun writing it. That's all that really matters to me.

To answer your question though, I think it covers a couple topics that most people in the literary world are afraid to cover.
>>
>>9568913
there is nothing wrong with HOMO SEX as long as it is cute thought
>>
>>9568927
I never said or implied that. It was a critique of the alt right more than anything. The strange reconciliation of gay men as long as they're right wingers (Paul Joseph Watson and Milo) combined with the united rapists of right wing politics in the US informed the piece.

It was a political statement more than anything.
>>
>>9568913
Okay, sure.

I'm not sure what you mean by "afraid"; it's something they're uninterested in engaging with in that manner because it's just farcical. Young men write things like this all the time; that America: The Europor invasion or whatever it's called is pretty much the same thing. I suspect people think they're doing something original because they just haven't noticed each other.
>>
>>9568975
That sounds like memey shit.

This is political satire. It's just a little rough for you to handle. Did you even read the entire thing?
>>
>>9568975
Here's a vocaroo if you can't read well:

http://vocaroo.com/i/s1jfGQAhjtaS
>>
put it on amazon sempai
>>
>>9568982
It's memey political satire.
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17911147-yurope
More or less exactly the same as what you've written; the intent may have been opposite but the texts read the same.

Good reading voice but I'm not sure why you think that sort of childish insult is going to do anything but make you sound like a prick.
>>
>>9568999
I'm not doing this for the money. Here's another story I just wrote. It's called Payton Manning:

Cosmo called it the best thing for women since the invention of the tampon.
Mall Street Journal called it the top fashion news story of the year.
Surgeon’s Digest called it an incredible feat of modern science.

Payton was a woman now. And she was ready to

strut
her
stuff!

With watermelons on her chest and an empty holster between her legs, Payton was set to be the first female player in the NFL. More importantly though, she was eager to seize the night.

“Which purse goes best with my biceps?”

“Honey, the boys aren’t looking at your purse or your biceps.”

Caitlin didn’t even look up from her nails.

“Can you even tell me what color the purse is?” Payton squealed.

Caitlin raised her head, slowly. She looked Payton in the eyes.

“Bitch, I don’t care! I’ve been waiting on you for 30 minutes. I’m ready to hit the clubs!”

“Don’t yell at me,” Payton replied. “I’m just a bit nervous is all...” She lingered on the last word.

“You know what will make you less nervous? A big dick in yo ass.”

They both giggled in a low octave that they reserved for their private talks.

“Are you ready now?” Caitlin asked.

“I think so.” Payton looked at herself in the mirror. Damn she looked good.

Caitlin grabbed Payton and spun her around. She said, “Honey, you’re gonna be just fine.”

Payton grabbed Caitlin’s shoulder and pushed her down into a fake huddle.

“BIG DICKS ON THREE

ONE

TWO

THREE

BIG DICKS!”

“Break,” Caitlin winked and whispered. Payton’s jaw dropped.

“What’s wrong?” Payton pointed behind Caitlin and spun her around.

One of their wine glasses had fallen off the dining room table and made a stain on carpet.
>>
>>9569025
I'm not a prick. I'm confident in that.

That makes one of us, then.
>>
>>9569042
You're behaving like a prick, therefore you are a prick. Q.E.D.
>>
>>9569062
Don't get your jimmies rustled. I'm just having a laugh.

That wasn't my voice, btw. That was someone from infinitychan's leftist pol board.
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>>9567678
>>
>>9569084
No need to project.
>>
>>9569145
About what?

My jimmies aren't rustled, and that wasn't my voice.

Anything else?
>>
>>9569145
>>9569182
Chill.
>>
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gay/cyb/
Thread posts: 27
Thread images: 4


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