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At the Lion’s Road

Patrick King Pascual visits The Mansion, where – he says – there is “fantasy fulfillment inside” awaiting to happen.

"There’s fantasy-fulfilment when you’re inside The Mansion, like an ego satisfaction. When you’re having sex with someone, and people gather around you and jerk off while watching you get off, the feeling is amazing, it’s cathartic..."

They call it “The Mansion.”

It’s where you can meet different people.
A guy who could make you laugh, but has the smallest dick in the room.
A straight-acting gay guy who performs Sarah Brightman’s ‘La Luna’ flawlessly.
Someone who thinks he’s the best Lady Gaga impersonator.
A guy who likes you a lot, but after blowing you, disappears.
Someone who will invite you in the dark room and later leave you for a bigger dick.
Someone who will ask you to bend over.
A mouth that can make you come more than once or twice.
And at times, someone who can be you friend.


Nakarating ka na ba sa isang lugar kung saan ang mga pinapantasya mo ay maaring magkatotoo?
(Have you ever been in a place where most of your fantasies can become reality?)


It was December of 2007, my first visit to “The Mansion”. I was with Anton, a very good friend, my partner in crime when exploring different places and/or “trips”.

I read about the place somewhere online. They reviewed it as an “oldie but goodie with lots of surprises”. I got curious. I downloaded the location map and messaged Anton.

We started our hunt one Tuesday evening. It was very difficult to find the place, especially if you’re not familiar with the area. It took us 200 pesos, two hours, and half a pack of Marlboro Lights before we finally found where Lion’s Road is.

Standing in front of us was a big red gate, supported by old bricks and wood. The place’s aura was eerie, and everything in front of us took us back to the time when the Japanese occupied the Philippines.

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Anton rang the bell. We waited.

As I lit my 12th Marlboro Lights, the big red gate opened. A middle-aged gay guy greeted us and led us in.

We were asked to sit on a bench outside the main door. Anton borrowed my lighter and lit his 13th Marlboro. The guy left and went inside to call the manager.

Anton and I were whispering to each other while laughing, and quietly discussed if we still wanted to go inside because we both felt scared.

“Good morning sir, what can I do for you?” a voice coming from the door asked.

“We heard about this place and we want to be members,” Anton answered.

He asked several questions. Where did we find out about the place? Do we know anyone who is already a member? Such stuffs. It’s not like one of those walk-in kinds of places.

After several minutes, we’re finally allowed to go inside, and we became members.

The ground floor was dark, with only two lamp shades providing light – one on the receiving area and the other on the stage area. It would take time before your eyesight adjusts.

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When you get inside, the stage is what will greet you. They use it during big nights or whenever there’s an event.  During weeknights, clients usually stay in the videoke area, which is beside the stairs that lead to the second level, and to the mini pool.

The structure of the videoke room and the stairs reminded me of the porn movie “A Body to Die For” – old and rustic. It’s like fulfilling your fantasy of having sex in an old house.

The second floor has the lockers and the first activity area.

From the thin clothes that served as dividers of the activity room and the locker area, you can hear countless moans coming from inside. Like a curious kid in Toy Kingdom, we went inside and explored it thoroughly.

I felt a hand touch my behind. I felt another grab my front. We continued walking and didn’t mind their touching.

I puffed my Marlboro Lights to give the place little illumination.

I saw three guys playing with each other on one bed.  One was on top of the other, while the other is kneeling in front of the two.

I liked what I saw.

I moved to the other direction and puffed my Marlboro again. I saw two guys in a 69 position on the other bed, while the others sat around them, watching, trying to join in the action.

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After a quick ocular inspection, we went out of the activity area and went down the stairs. We walked towards the pool area. We went straight to the pool bar and ordered beer. We lit another Marlboro.

The bartender engaged us in a small conversation. He asked us if it was our first time in the place. Anton and I nodded.

He told us that on different days, they offer different promos and themes. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, they have their towel night.  Tuesday is their topless night.  Thursday is their briefs night (your underwear and a hand towel). Saturday is their event night, though also a towel night. Meanwhile, Sunday is skin night (nothing on, just a hand towel).

After a few minutes, we left the pool bar and continued exploring the place. We walked on the side of the main house to get to the back house.

As we slowly reached the dark entrance of the back house, the silhouette of the people who were standing inside caught our attention. The number of people is double compared to the ones in the first activity area. They were standing side by side, as if waiting for someone who will engage into something with them. They were touching each others’ bulges, kissing each other, while also touching people behind them.

It felt like we were in Sodom and Gomorrah. It would be unethical to define it as Halfway to Heaven, but it felt like it. Like all the lusts in the chatroom, dark rooms of Red Banana and Club Bath (when they were still open), the double-movie cinema experiences in Quiapo and Libertad (the years when they were still operating) were all here, all jammed in this dark, spine-chilling, fantasy-like place. Anton and I called it “the dungeon”.

No matter how hard we puffed our Marlboros, the darkness of the place fought the ample light of our cigarettes.

We entered the dungeon, with our hands touching the walls and our feet sliding on the unfamiliar floor, leading us inside the spacious dark place.

Anton held my hand. We walked towards the middle. We heard more moans, felt several more touches on our groins and our behinds.

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We bumped against a group of people who were engaging in an orgy. I pulled Anton to have a closer look at what they were doing. I puffed my Marlboro and saw the outline of five guys standing in a circle, and one guy was kneeling in the middle blowing their dicks one after the other.

I felt someone touch my bulge and squeezed it like he was pulling me towards him. I got distracted. I spread my arms trying to touch and find him but I couldn’t. It was too dark. All I could grasp that was in my reach was Anton.

We went outside and went to the second floor of the dungeon, the video room. Anton led the way as I lit my last Marlboro.

The television was playing a familiar porn movie.

There were three people in the room. When we reached the end of the stairs and walked behind the bench in front the television, their attention focused on us. It was as if they were waiting for a go-signal from us.

There’s also an activity room on the second floor, the third and last. It’s on the other side, separated by the brick wall and the wooden wall that had “glory holes”. I think it was strategically placed in the video area, so that while watching Jeff Palmer perform his bareback scenes, you can put your dick in one of the holes and wait for someone to suck it, or vice-versa.

Anton and I decided to cruise separately, to cruise on our own, and meet each other after two hours in the pool bar.

He stayed in the video room. I went back to the dungeon.

I heard the familiar moans again.  Once again, I felt the heat coming from the bodies having a release with each other.

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I wanted to light a cigarette but I remembered I finished everything I brought. And just on my way out of the dungeon to go to the bar and buy another pack of Marlboros, I felt someone grab my arm. It was the familiar arm grab I felt earlier.

I don’t know if I was hallucinating, because of the lack of Marlboro smoke in my body or he was the same guy who tried to pull me earlier. My other arm grabbed his hand, and I pulled him closer to me. I wanted to kiss him. There’s something in him that drew me closer to his lips even though I haven’t seen his face yet.

He pulled me outside the dungeon for a better view of each other.

He was tall. He had a nice set of arms. His body was like that of a swimmer, with a not-so flat tummy. He was wearing a baseball cap. He smiled and whispered to my ear: “Let’s go to the locker area activity room.” I nodded and followed him.

When we got inside the activity room, there were only few people. The bed near the entrance was empty. He crawled on the bed and I followed him. I turned his cap around and started kissing him.

I unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his cargo shorts. I pulled down his briefs, and started playing with his already hard and throbbing cock.

He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled it with my underwear down to my knees. We played with each other while kissing. I turned around. We were in a 69 position.

Someone tried to join us, tried to reach for my dick but he grabbed the hand and pushed it away. He continued to give me head, I deep-throated him…


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This is one of the countless stories I have in The Mansion.


It was December of 2003 when The Mansion opened and catered to every gay’s fantasy and entertainment. A towel bar that changed the meaning of “bathhouse” to an unconventional way. It is a fantasy-driven place.


The Mansion and the experiences I had inside were all euphoric. It’s addicting. There came a time that every night, after work, I’ll meet Anton somewhere in EDSA and go there.

There’s fantasy fulfillment when you’re inside The Mansion, like an ego satisfaction. When you’re having sex with someone, and people gather around you and jerk off while watching you get off, the feeling is amazing, it’s cathartic…

Living life a day at a time – and writing about it, is what Patrick King believes in. A media man, he does not only write (for print) and produce (for a credible show of a local giant network), but – on occasion – goes behind the camera for pride-worthy shots (hey, he helped make Bahaghari Center’s "I dare to care about equality" campaign happen!). He is the senior associate editor of OutrageMag, with his column, "Suspension of Disbelief", covering anything and everything. Whoever said business and pleasure couldn’t mix (that is, partying and working) has yet to meet Patrick King, that’s for sure!


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