The Adventures of Will Tantra (Part 1)- by Studs Andros Jan.. (OnlyFans)

The Adventures of Will Tantra (Part 1)- by Studs Andros

January 2099

	After an extended decline into darkness, The Endarkenment as it is now called by historians referring to late 20th and early 21st century conservative movements and neo-fascism, the war on women and on sensuality and gender fluidity, the world hit its bottom, especially in the United States. 
Led by enlightened women, the revolution to restore and to raise up the horizons of people and possibilities. With great effort, the patriarchy has been atomized. Cleaning up the wreckage of this past, a near utopia is miraculously emerging. A congress of powerful women has saved the planet from total destruction. In America, the constitution has been amended to not only protect equal rights, but all genders’ rights to choose the destinies of their bodies, guaranteeing the people’s rights to full sexual expression, and sexual engagement as long as it is consensual. If a label is needed, then most of the people in this newly conscious society describe themselves as pansexual. 
	In this new era, the sexual healer Will Tantra has gotten the job he was born, and reborn, to do. Which is to engage and enroll the cis gender identifying males who are resisting the advancement of sexuality, sexual expression, and pleasure. The Refuseniks as these nostalgic men are known. Will Tantra is tasked with the adventure of showing and teaching these virulent holdouts how good life will be, how happy society will become, when they surrender their penises, and cum loads, to the progressive movement and utopia here for all of us of solo as well as united orgasm. 
In this Shangri-la of global pleasure, Will Tantra has been appointed the Secretary of Seed Extraction. He is perfection, an arousing combination of secret agent and gender fluid Casanova. As always, the bountiful bulge in his pants informs and guides his big, loving heart. 
The following are excerpts from his diary. His position as Secretary of Seed E (SSE) requires rigorous record keeping, hence the diary. I hope you will find his diary as arousing and erotic as I do.

January 11, 2099

Just got off the line with President Marilynne West. She’s in a good mood. Earlier today, her son, Nathaniel, was voted the head of the bate team at Yale University. There was a ton of competition. He’s a championing masturbator. And a champion extractor, meaning, a man who can suck the most cocks in a week at Yale, and fill up on the biggest loads. Bravo, Nathaniel. Can’t wait see you this summer on the West Coast. 

Post-revolution, ours is a utopian society where cum is considered very important for the physical, spiritual, emotional, and sexual health of all people. So much so that men are REQUIRED to provide a load for another man every week and STRONGLY encouraged to drink other men's loads at least once a week. For transgender men, with vaginas, it’s about squirt, which I’ve always had a great taste for. Those who refuse to give up their semen or squirt are restrained and force-milked while an eager mouth awaits the weekly serving. I love eating pussy and I love giving and receiving a blow job. My favorite? My best life is when I tank up on semen-- straight from the tap! Sucking cock. Drinking sperm. And my job is a fucking abundant buffet of seed. Life isn’t just good, it’s beautiful, and delicious. 

But we have our resistors. Dangerous men. These refuseniks who are living in the past, nostalgic for the early 21st century when the pendulum of social progress swung so far to the conservative right; reinstating abortion laws, sodomy laws, anti every LGBT+ rights. It got so censorious that prisons were filled, “with sodomites,” as the conservative called us, and millions of homes were empty. There were a lot of sodomites. Bless them. Finally, led by a sisterhood of powerful, and brave women, revealing the hypocrisy of the right wing, going to battle, withholding sex, power was wrenched from the patriarchy, and the patriarchy withered without its hot air. 

In advance of their State of the Union address on Tuesday February 7, the president told me that White House has received an intelligence report that among the many pockets of resistors is a dangerous group led by the Riverhead, Long Island police captain Eddie Ryan. He is the kingpin in a national cult of right wingers plotting their revenge, preparing to yank us back to the dark ages. It’s my honor to serve, and on orders from headquarters I’m flying out tonight from LA to Islip, located central east on Long Island. Renting a car and checking into a motel in Riverhead. Incognito.

Ryan and his officers are believed to be plotting to send out a virus to interrupt the broadcast of the president’s speech. President West has asked me personally go see the officers and do whatever it takes to extract enough semen from them that they flip over, no pun intended, to the pansexual pleasures of semen release transcending their previous beliefs about gender and sexuality biases. They will want to cease and desist in their effort to bring down the President and our government. Most significantly, through the bliss of seed extraction—being extracted from and reciprocating the divine, and healing, service of seed extraction to other men--will all men realize, even the once most resistant, that no man is a free until they are connected to all sexual expressions not just one narrow, last century idea. There will be no peace amongst the people of this country, nor the love of women for men, until all men know and love penis together. Until they drink and come to desire semen the way the thirsty do water. Or wine. 

I show them how. I teach by example. I suck so much semen in a week, I could open a dairy with man milk on tap for anyone that wants to suck it from me. 

We are going to teach these men how to love, all people. Beginning with teaching them how to love themselves.

Made an appointment to see Eddie Ryan Wednesday January 14. He sounded plenty annoyed at the intrusion I proposed. But he knows the deal. Resist enlightenment become the ashes of history. We let them try to resist. See if they don’t get hard in my mouth. So far, no has been able to stay soft in dad’s mouth. Sure, I’m compassionate. To a degree. I know it’s not easy for all people at first. Ryan, meanwhile, is confident that he and his men won’t succumb. 

“It won’t hurt, Captain Ryan,” I said. “In fact, I guarantee you’ll like it and wonder why you ever resisted in the first place.”

“You won’t get close enough to me, boy, to even touch me,” he said.

“Now Captain, you know the rules. And you’ve received a list of the  officers we expect to join you in our meeting.”

“Fuck the rules.”

“If after one hour on your cock, and the other officers’ cocks, you aren’t hard, I’ll let you go. Until next time, captain. That’s the deal.”

“Fuck you, Will Tantra.”

“That’s a reward that you have to earn, son.”

He’ll be a hard nut to crack—sorry if I’m dropping these puns too heavily--but they always cum around. When the mouth is good, you know what they say. Blow them, and they will cum. 

January 13, 2099

Riverhead is dark and overcast. Foggy. The weather is cool. It’s weather that makes you horny; of course, any weather makes me and my team horny. The motel I’m staying in is a dump, but it’s got something arousing about it. Cheap wood paneling on the walls, dark orange wall-to-wall carpet, exhausted looking bright red and purple paisley bed spreads and a smell of travelers’ arm pits after a long drive, flat beer, and the cum nut they shot wherever the fuck they wanted and left it. There’s a smear of semen on the mirror in the toilet of my room that hasn’t been cleaned. This motel reminds of a place you’d go to fuck your brains out, dicks in every hole, mouths on every dick and in every pussy, from a hundred or more years ago. Places you see in old porn films. The vintage kinds we downloaded when we were kids and laughed at, as well as beat off to. 

Thought it might be useful if I arranged somehow to be in Captain Ryan’s eyesight before our official meeting. I wanted to see exactly who I am dealing with, but not let him know who I was. My intel prior to landing in Riverhead said that he works out most nights after work at the Athletic League clubhouse just off the main street in town. Made a friend who works here at the motel—sucked his uncut thick meat after being curled inside his sweaty briefs. In return, he gave me a guest pass to work out at the AL, as they call the gym, tonight. 

This is what I do, and how I do it. Coordinating the semen extractions, the locations, schedule, etc... Other Penis owners (including trans women and non-binary folks) work for me around the country, doing the actual milking and extracting. I’ve been to cities like Riverhead for the best part of the past two year, ever since I was appointed the President’s special agent. Always there’s a variety of locations, from fancy places, the nice houses, clubs, and restaurants, to the rougher locals that I describe as "photo-mat" type locations. We even did a group extraction this past summer in a lot in downtown San Diego where the men held illegal dog fights. Pit bulls attacking other pit bulls, in this day and age. But not anymore, once we turned these fellows into happy cock suckers even their dogs are happier, and safer. 

My role, as chief extractor, is training a team of some 700 across the country to the art of seed gathering and extracting. Being present to collect semen from the men in America who have refused, who are refusing, being milked. Like Captain Ryan who bullies his officers to resist milking. It takes a certain mean son of a bitch to keep others from going with the flow, the flow of cum that is making everyone else happy, making for loving and contented citizens, and a much better world.

Part 2 is the next post 👍🏼