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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.

Razza Malley

Razza was the shirtless one, wearing a bushranger hat. He was shorter than his brother, Shane, but thicker-built and heavily tattooed all over like a bikie — he wasn’t a bikie, though he used to own a motorcycle, he just had bikie-like tattoos because his bikie dad was also his tattoo artist. He had a heavy-footed way of carrying himself, like everything he did was a challenge aimed at an invisible sparring partner.

From The Bogan

Hans Mannlicher

The man in front of him was an intimidating sight, broadly muscled, exuding heat and authority. He was nearly seven feet tall and built like a professional wrestler, with arms bigger than Rob’s head and a broad strapping chest like he was part-Volkswagen. He was blond and squarish, with a very Teutonic face and a crooked nose like der Kämpfer. His hair was short and neatly combed.

From The German

Swedes

The men were skinny prettyboys who weren’t pretty, a milquetoast collection of duds, sour-faced and scrawny like petrified herring. Oh, there were hot Swedettes a plenty: blondes with blue eyes and alluring grins, Saami babes with thickness in all the right spots, even a bubbling squadron of ladies who had filled up the Pressbyrån convenience store that Rob was trying to get gas in at the time — they carried hockey sticks and other gear which Rob later discovered was technically for a sport called bandy, which was hockey using a ball instead of a puck.
Sweden was a drab green, cloudy, full of emotionless skinny men who made Rob’s dick shrivel up at the sight of them. They all appeared to be sucking on a lemon, Rob thought, but that couldn’t be true because there were no lemons here — that would have been too much flavor for Swedish cuisine. This was a country of heavy, dull carbs with the taste cooked out of them. Here, porridge had been the most delightful thing Rob had yet eaten. It tasted of nothing, which was a step up from other Swedish food.

From The Swede

The Swede

The Swede

Rob’s stranded on the side of the road in Sweden, where he ends up in the barn of the depressive

Continue reading The Swede

Book pages, Lipsweet of Martinsburg, Rough Trade
Massaging the Mechanic

Massaging the Mechanic

Duncan Walsh is an alpha male mechanic with a pain in his knee, for which he has to see a

Continue reading Massaging the Mechanic

Book pages, Lifelong Bachelors, Lipsweet of Springfield

Hadisi Mae

He was a popular local singer and bamboo player. Hadisi was tall, a bit lanky but well-muscled, with a smattering of kinky yellow-white hairs on his chest. He had wild hair and a beard too, both jutting out in every direction as though bits of his head were trying to escape. He was, like many Solomon Islanders, blond despite having dark skin and very curly black hairs. The gene that causes blond hair among Melanesians is completely unrelated to the gene that causes blond hair among those of European descent, so Hadisi’s hair was yellow-blond but different than blond white people’s hair, and even different than African black people with blond hair — it was yellower, like the color of a sun-drenched hay field. It was common for children here to be blond, but most of them outgrew it and developed black hair by the time they were adults. Hadisi was an exception.
He was also ungodly handsome, which was why Rob’s company wanted to sign him and his village band. If anyone were going to make this album a success, it’d be Hadisi and his jawline, his toned muscles and his deep-dimpled smile. No one was going to buy it because they loved bamboo music, so the only audience would come from dilettantes, collectors and middle-aged ladies at Starbucks who thought the exotic guy on the cover was hot.

From The Solomon Islander

Bamboo music

It was very nice music, in its own way. Rob wasn’t about to throw away his Violent Femmes albums and listen to nothing else, but it was appealing in its way. It was called “bamboo music” in English: it was created by slapping bamboo tubes with an object, or slamming the bamboo tubes down on an object, usually a rock but sometimes a sandal or whatever else was at hand. It produced an oddly compelling percussive tune that Rob enjoyed. There was a pleasant fluteiness to the music’s breathy tenor, like a panpipe with a rhythmic drum-like sound or perhaps more like another percussive idiophone, a mbira or a Jew’s harp.

From The Solomon Islander

The Solomon Islander

The Solomon Islander

Rob is in the Solomon Islands, where he meets a well-muscled stud, Hadisi Mae. Before Rob knows it, he’s on

Continue reading The Solomon Islander

Actives and Passives, Book pages, Lipsweet of Martinsburg

Hawthorn Spooner

He was tall, broad-shouldered, tan-bodied. He that cocky swagger that all the experienced ranchhands around here had. He was much stronger and bigger than Pat in every way, and he carried himself like everyone knew he was the toughest hand in Colorado. His face was windswept like a much older man, or perhaps his face was preternaturally youthful for his age, since Pat didn’t know how old he truly was. He was grizzled and stubbled, seemingly always shaving. Pat was a great appreciator of the male form, and Hawthorn’s was remarkable.

From The Ranchhand

Hawthorn stood there shirtless, wearing just his denim pants and thick boots, carrying his ten-gallon hat. His broad shoulders dripped with sweat, and the dark hair on his chest was matted to his muscles. He was a great big bear of a man, with biceps as thick as Juniper’s head — that was why he often had special duties to attend to, because he was the strongest man on the farm (and probably the whole county). He was leanly muscled, sharp-jawed and eagle-nosed. Hawthorn was more than six and a half feet tall.

From The Cowboy Bottoms

Education

“I said, uh… welcome to our learning,” Mr. Watson said. “I think of education as a location, a state of mind and a journey all at once. So what we’re doing right here, this is learning, and I’d like to welcome you to it. Perhaps some of our learning will spill over to you.” Then Mr. Watson hastened to add, “And perhaps some of your learning will spill over to us, for I’m sure you have many wonderful knowledge… knowledges. Paths of knowledge. Ways of knowing. Folkways of… paths. Of known… learning. You no doubt… have much to teach us.”

From The Fat Janitor

The Fat Janitor

The Fat Janitor

Bart’s dreary remedial driving-safety class bores him to tears, until a disruption by the massive-bodied janitor Lincoln. During a class

Continue reading The Fat Janitor

Actives and Passives, Book pages, Lipsweet of Martinsburg
The Professor

The Professor

Avery accidentally catches his hunky professor Studman in the act of taking advantage of a woman, and Avery is eager

Continue reading The Professor

Book pages, Lifelong Bachelors, Lipsweet of Ann Arbor
The Champion of Diversity

The Champion of Diversity

When Avery has to go in for a diversity class, he didn’t think he’d be sharing it with an alpha

Continue reading The Champion of Diversity

Book pages, Free ebooks, Lipsweet of Daytona Beach, Rough Trade
Buck the Dumbass: Chapter 3

Buck the Dumbass: Chapter 3

Buck the Dumbass Chapter One: Ann Arbor, 1999 Chapter Two: Peremptory Manhood Chapter Three: Statistics 101 Chapter Four: Systems of

Continue reading Buck the Dumbass: Chapter 3

Buck the Dumbass, Forceful Alphas, Free ebooks, Freebies, Twink on Top
Buck the Dumbass

Buck the Dumbass

Buck is an idiot, a dumbass, a moron and stupid as a brick factory, and it’s time someone told him

Continue reading Buck the Dumbass

Book pages, Forceful Alphas

Lincoln Gauntle

He was very handsome, that was why Bart noticed him so intently. The nametag sewn onto the front of his jumpsuit said his name was Lincoln. He was burly and bristly, snarling at no one in particular when he came in. He looked like a generally disagreeable person, not like he was upset at this moment.
He was pudgy, thick all over, and Bart instantly got a rough and rugged vibe off Lincoln, who had that “it ain’t pervy as long as you’s on top” look. That was exactly the look Bart was hoping for. Maybe it was because Lincoln appeared to be of Italian or Greek descent, or something around that region, Bart thought, and those Mediterranean guys were usually down if they didn’t have a girl at the moment. This chunky mean-looking man almost certainly was single, so Bart had high hopes for him.
Lincoln was powerful — he fancied himself an amateur bodybuilder though he was far from perfectly muscled. He had a little beer belly and plenty of heft on his thickheavy thighs. He had a deep growly voice and a scruffy beard.

From The Fat Janitor