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Welcome to the world of mansploitation fiction by M.N. Manmacker! It’s a series of linked stories involving man-on-man action in a world full of homoerotic situations, alpha males and raunchy, filthy rutting!

Welcome to the world of mansploitation fiction by M.N. Manmacker! It’s a series of linked stories involving man-on-man action in a world full of homoerotic situations, alpha males and raunchy, filthy rutting!

Content on this website includes pictures and videos that contain adult content. Written material (excerpts, etc.) may contain adult content, including offensive material, nonconsensual sex and other topics you may find objectionable. You must be at least eighteen years of age to visit this website.

Comments, questions and requests can be sent to MNManmacker@proton.me or sign up for the mailing list to keep abreast of new releases.

What does “mansploitation” mean?

À la 70s femsploitation and blaxsploitation movies, mansploitation stories emphasize masculine gender roles in ways that are sexy beyond belief!

Mansploitation stories use a floating, mobile timeline, like a classic cartoon or sitcom.

1: That means time moves forward but the characters mostly don’t — in other words, a college student character will always be a college student, even as the year changes. References and technologies will advance as well. This is a floating timeline.

2: Stories are set in various locations, characterized principally by the bar Lipsweet. For example, when Lipsweet is in Martinsburg, West Virginia, it is a rough-and-tumble strip club dominated by rednecks and hicks in the modern day. When Lipsweet is in Santa Monica, California, it is a modern-day cholo bar. When it is in Baton Rouge, it is a 1930s speakeasy , and when it is in Los Angeles, it is a beachfront bar in the 1980s. The characters will be translated to each setting but will remain mostly the same. Some storylines will unfold along different times and places. This is a mobile timeline.

3: Don’t worry too much about continuity. Some developments, mainly new characters, continue into future stories. But mostly, characters and situations reset in each new story. I try to keep character details consistent, but I have lots of oopsies (e.g., characters changing surnames, etc.). It’s a multiverse thing, deal with it.

Mansploitation stories have subtitles.

The subtitles are formatted like this: “A Lifelong Bachelors Mansploitation Novel” or “A Forceful Alphas Mansploitation Novella”.

$1.99: <10k short
$2:99: 10k story
$3.99: 15k noveletta; 20k novelette
$4.99: 30k novella; 40k novel
$5.99: 50k novellota
$6.99: 60k epic novel
$7.99: 70k epic novel
$8.99: 80k epic novel
$9.99: 90k epic novel

(These prices were updated in January 2026. Older books were not updated to the new pricing scheme.)

Bundles are priced as the total of their components minus two dollars per story, to a minimum of $1 each.

Hazing & Hijinks: homoerotic situations, hazing, bullying, initiations

Married Men with Double Lives: men married to women but messing around with other men

Forceful Alphas: strongly nonconsenting sexual activity

MM Str8rom: man-on-woman romance with man-on-man sexual activity

Twink on Top: slim, small, usually feminine men who end up topping big, tough alpha males

Actives and Passives: men who are seductively flamboyant and who seek out or are sought out by big, tough, masculine men

Rough Trade: men who engage in man-on-man action for money or other considerations

Lifelong Bachelors: men who pursue, compel and/or convince uber-macho alphas to top them

More specific niches are called “ultra”. These are priced $2 more expensive than they would otherwise be based on the word count.

Ultra-Foot Worship: foot and shoe/boot stuff

Ultra-Gutpunching: gut punches, some trampling, that kinda thing

Ultra-Raunchy: real dirty stuff, hobos, piss, rimjobs, etc

Mansploitation stories have pictures!

Most stories feature pictures, which are generated by AI. AI produces far superior images for my purposes compared to stock photo.

While images are intended to bring to mind a specific character, they don’t exactly correspond to descriptions in the book. That’s partially because AI isn’t real precise with things like ages, hairstyles and tattoos, but also it simply provides a little variety, so readers don’t feel locked in to a look that may not be their ideal. In any case, just like with stock photos, think of it as less the “actual look” of a character and more a head shot of an actor who could play that character — i.e., hair and makeup will change, they might be a little off in various ways, but they have the right attitude, atmosphere and ambiance to represent the character.

Like making out under an unfinished statue

Wojo don’t mind a gold-digger. So long as she loves him, she can spend all the money, he don’t care. Just give him an allowance to buy lunch every day at work. Couplea shirts at Christmas. That’s all he needs.

Sandra never knew he made good money. Wojo thought bragging was trashy. Bricklayers make good money, plus he got a Marine Corps pension. He needta spend more money to look like a good provider, he thought. That was ironic though, cuz if he spent money, he’d have less, and he wouldn’t be such a good provider anymore.
And he don’t know what else to spend money on. If he had a woman, he’d shower her with like jewels and stuff. Makeup. Those dumbass handbags that cost like ten grand. Mad expensive. Should he have just told Sandra he got a couple hundred grand saved up? Would that have changed anything? Would she have stayed with him for the money? Does that even matter? Wojo don’t mind a gold-digger. So long as she loves him, she can spend all the money, he don’t care. Just give him an allowance to buy lunch every day at work. Couplea shirts at Christmas. That’s all he needs.
That coffee commercial came on, the one with the husband drinking coffee with his wife who’s pretty in a nice way, like a new kindergarten teacher, got a cozy sweater on. Wojo want a wife he can treat right like that. Sandra never wore a sweater. Need a house with a fireplace.
In the commercial, they’s lounging around afrontuva fire in a fireplace, but in the outside shots, there isn’t no chimney on the house. Aside from that, it’s a perfect marriage, he thought. Bet!
So when she finished her coffee or possibly not-coffee drink, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, that was nice, she don’t hate him or nothing. She got a tenderness for him. Her lips was soft and electric and warm, and they proved that maybe nothing was wrong about Wojo. She wouldn’ta kissed him if he was a creep. Then Wojo trudge-booted home. Maybe that was the problem, he saw now, he shouldn’ta done wore boots. Girls don’t like workboots.
Or maybe girls just don’t like bricklayers. His old flame Mazie said it was like making out under an unfinished statue.

From Wojo the Bricklayer

He knew he was gonna look like a spoilsport, but he don’t care, Wojo was raised proper.

Wojo stopped his laughter when he realized what he was laughing at. “You shouldn’t talk about women like that,” Wojo said. He knew he was gonna look like a spoilsport, but he don’t care, Wojo was raised proper. He’s a Christian. “It’s disrespec’ful.” Anyway, Jeb, Dawkins and a couple others agreed with Wojo, and that led to a dispute about thullogy and the ethics — theelogy — thoulogy? God stuff.

From Wojo the Bricklayer

I don’wanna say what it taste like, cuz you’re a girl.

He paused before blurting out, “They got flavored popcorn too. But don’t get the green… uh… matchoo. Gross. Tastes like… well, I don’wanna say what it taste like, cuz you’re a girl.” He blushed and looked down, then bit his lip and corrected himself. “Woman.”

“So’s I thought, uh, Sandra, I wuz thinkin’, you know, you know, I wuz — there’s a place, the Cinema, they is playin’ movies, you know, you know, I mean, like,” He grunted, he really wanna sniffle, his nose was stuffy, but he don’t think Sandra would approve. “I, uh… They got movies on, you know. It’s called the Cinema.”
“A movie theatre?”
“Yeah.” Wojo knew he sounded like an idiot, he don’t gotta explain a theater. He wasn’t sure he got the name right — it was actually the Broad Avenue Cinema, but Wojo knew it as “the Cinema” that was on Broad, and he didn’t know that cinema was a word, not a brand. “The Cinema. They put on classic movies sometimes. I thought, I was thinking, I thunk, I thought, I was — I thought, maybe, uh, maybe, you’d like to go see one sometime. A movie. A classic movie. Or a modern one, I don’t care. They do modern ones too.” He paused before blurting out, “They got flavored popcorn too. But don’t get the green… uh… matchoo. Gross. Tastes like… well, I don’wanna say what it taste like, cuz you’re a girl.” He blushed and looked down, then bit his lip and corrected himself. “Woman.”

From Wojo the Bricklayer

Only washed-up old men was former anythings.

He just might got love in his heart for her. He wanna go the whole way right now, tell her he loves her, propose to her, marry her, have a buncha kids with her. If there was a button he could press to make all that happen, he’d do it in an instant! Bet!
But there was no such button, and prolly she’d get turned off when she realized he was just a big-ass bricklayer, dumb as a clod of dirt. And he used to be a Marine. Oorah. He dunno if that was a plus for girls or not. It seemed like girls liked it at the time, but now they was fussing about it like it don’t matter. Maybe calling hisself a “former Marine” made him sound old. Only washed-up old men was former anythings.
Lotta Marines say there ain’t no such thing as a former Marine, just ones that are civilians now. But women sure acted like a currently military Marine was different than a now-civilian one. Or maybe Wojo just don’t put off the right kinda vibes for a Marine anymore. Girls pay alotta attention to vibes. There oughta to be like a tattoo or something that tells women you got a Marine pension, so you don’t gotta tell ’em. Women don’t know about that stuff. There’s no vibe to it.

From Wojo the Bricklayer

Vashka Shovkhalov

He was Wojo’s gym-buddy — Vashka was virtually always there, working out. He was muscled as hell, and unlike Wojo, he was carved like outta alabaster — maybe, Wojo dunno what alabaster is — but Vashka was ripped as hell, like zero percent body fat. He got a six-pack and everything, shit, maybe an eight-pack, forget about it! He was pale as can be too. Maybe albino. His head was shaved and his chest was smooth as marble, but his armpit and crotch hairs was black.

From Wojo the Bricklayer

Wojo thought women should be princesses, not whores. No, queens!

Prostitutes were merely a warm orifice for a man to use and abuse, that manhood required utilization and hierarchy to embody itself lest its precariousness lead to subordination and that empathy for fallen women marked a man as weak and vincible.

“You should visit brothel,” Vashka said with a snoot and a whistle. He shrugged.
“I don’t do prostitutes,” Wojo said. He blushed. “Sawry, I just — I don’t like to treat a woman like that.” He scuffed his feet. “Women are… Women should be nice. Like mad, you’know, nice. Like a princess.” He looked down cuz he knew Vashka was gonna cackle him up over that.
Vashka put out a barrel laugh as he finished his reps, and Wojo took his place on the bench-press bench. Vashka said, “Is not nice women, not the marry kind, not like wife. You should do. They are…” He added a sound effect, the gist of which, Wojo gathered, was that prostitutes were merely a warm orifice for a man to use and abuse, that manhood required utilization and hierarchy to embody itself lest its precariousness lead to subordination and that empathy for fallen women marked a man as weak and vincible.
Wojo did not see women that way. But he was in a Russian gym right now, very possibly surrounded by Russian gangsters, so Wojo just shrugged and did his bench presses. He matched Vashka’s weight, which he did not struggle to lift. It activated the pain in his shoulder though. He didn’t let it show, lest Vashka take it as a sign of weakness.
They kept talking about women as they worked through their weightlifting, and Wojo was casual but noncommittal. He wanna point out that prostitution was a sin, and the Bible and all that, it don’t allow the premaritals. But the Russians were Christians too, and he had a feeling they wouldn’t respond well to their own religion being explained to them. So Wojo carefully avoided saying anything bad about those who visit prostitutes.
He didn’t like it though. Wojo thought women should be princesses, not whores. No, queens!

From Wojo the Bricklayer

From Wojo the Bricklayer

It makes a black man look handsomer, makes a white man look weaker

Lamont drank the frou-frou.

Lamont drank the frou-frou. But he ordered cognac for the both of them to start — two cognacs each — and Wojo hadta admit the sweetness tasted good on his tongue. It’s okayer for black guys to drink sweet drinks though, Wojo thought. It makes a black man look handsomer, makes a white man look weaker. He took the umbrella and lime wedge outta his drink, put ’em on the table.

Like pairs of pitchers’ mounds.

She wore a low-cut dress — low-cut over the tits and low-cut over the ass too — she got cleavage at both ends.

“Hmm, sugar, you two look cute enough to eat up!” said this thick black woman who sat down with ’em then. She was one of ’em for sure. She wore a low-cut dress — low-cut over the tits and low-cut over the ass too — she got cleavage at both ends.
Nice cleavage too. Like pairs of pitchers’ mounds.

From Wojo the Bricklayer

his barbarian-size tongue was a plus

Wojo’s kisses traveled lower though. She said last night she liked how he licked her down there, and so Wojo did it again. What every woman he’d been with agreed on was that his barbarian-size tongue was a plus when it came to, yu’know… licking ’em out in the downstairs.
So he did it again. He plunged his tongue into her pussy, and he slurped on her clit until she couldn’t stop whisper-begging for more. She maybe asked Tommy to join in or maybe Tommy did it in on his own, but when she was good and wet, Tommy was kissing her down.
They both ate her out good, she was purring like a kitten. You could tell she liked it cuz she was pumping her hips like as if to force her womanhood down their throats. Wojo wrinkled his nose when Tommy’s tongue touched his, but he didn’t fuss, even when Tommy laid down next to Wojo. Tommy’s hardon rubbed on Wojo’s asscheeks, as they both had to squeeze into the small space of the bunk.

From Wojo the Bricklayer

A man can’t ask for what he wants, he gotta earn it.

It’d look like he was demanding sex without an offer of marriage. Wojo wanted that very badly, which was why he don’t wanna ask for it. A man can’t ask for what he wants, he gotta earn it.

Wojo didn’t want to chat first because it would inevitably lead to talk about Pam, and he didn’t know what to think about her. Had she dumped him? Or were they on the verge of engagement? Was she mad at him? Maybe he should ask her to move in with him? But then it’d look like he was demanding sex without an offer of marriage. Wojo wanted that very badly, which was why he don’t wanna ask for it. A man can’t ask for what he wants, he gotta earn it.

From Wojo the Bricklayer