Horn Dog

Lately, i’ve become quite a horn dog. I seem to be looking for and getting lots of hookups. But, i am not going to gloat, because i’ve had more than my fair share of long, dry spells.

The recent encounter i thought i would tell you about may be off-putting, uncomfortable, or anger inducing to some people because of the subject matter, i.e. kink involved. But, let me be the first to say i abhor child sexual abuse. And i say that as a survivor of repeated sexual abuse by an older male cousin when i was between the ages of 9 and 12.

Recently, i met a man online who fancied himself a bit of a mental health therapist who specialized in child sexual abuse/incest. i admitted to him that i had been abused as a child. So, he wanted me to “process” what had happened to me in a session with him. i have to admit i was intrigued, and a bit titillated by the scenario since we connected on a gay hookup site.

So we agreed that within the hour i would come to his place, make myself as comfortable as i wanted to be (naked), and to lie on the bed in the direction indicated by the pillows.

I drove over, walked in and went straight to the bedroom as directed. i completely undressed, because…well, i hoped i was going to get fucked.

i laid down with my head at the foot of the bed. A few minutes later i heard steps approach the bed, then pass by to a nearby chair. The “therapist” told me to begin my story of sexual abuse from the beginning.

i told him each of the occurrences i could recall. i also admitted that although it was non-consensual, and i clearly was being abused by an older boy, it did feel good and that i had gotten an erection each time from the abusive encounter. Also, i told the therapist that the last abusive encounter occurred at an age when i was capable of cumming, so i stopped the cousin from masturbating my penis before i ejaculated by pretending to be asleep, and turning over in the bed away from my abuser.

Then, i talked about childhood mutual sexual play with friends and boys in my neighborhood. Then he stood up and told me not to be concerned as he placed a sheet over by face. He took his clothes off and got in the bed beside me.

i reach over and grasped surprisingly, a large, uncut cock. He went down on me for a bit, and then tried really hard to get that big, fat, uncut dick up my tight asshole. It hurt, but he went slow. He was gentle. He was determined and so was i — to a point. About 3/4 of his at least 8 inches were in, but the pain and fear of tearing caused me to stop him.

Without a word he got up, dressed and left the room. i got up, dressed, left the house and drove home.

Remember: my kink may not be your kink, and that’s ok.

While this encounter was bizarre, it was also cathartic. i have to say that i had never openly admitted to another person that i was aroused while i was being abused. That it felt good. And in my confusion over the conflicting feelings of the abuse (shame, fear, anger) and the sexual arousal, i had erotic dreams about this cousin for years afterward. i even considered contacting him to entice him into a consensual sexual encounter numerous times over the years.

Child sexual abuse fucks up a kid’s brain. It messes up their ability to feel things normally. It destroys self esteem. It induces lifelong shame. It can cause promiscuity and sex addiction.

i should know. Been there. Done that!

This post is in no way meant to glorify, justify, encourage, or normalize child sexual abuse.

Shame on Y/you!

When i was a little boy, probably four or five years old, i was playing “doctor” with a boy who lived next door.  Don’t even know how i knew about surgery but we were pretending the zipper in our pants was an incision and cotton balls should be stuffed into the opening.  We were so naive that we were doing it in my front yard.  

Who knew at five years old that playing with the neighbor boy’s penis was wrong?  My mother saw what was going on and beat the shit out of me saying, “don’t you ever let me catch you doing that again!”  She didn’t realize that i focused on the word “catch” and carried that thought, fear and judgment most of the rest of my life.  She taught me to be ashamed of my body, my desires, my playfulness, and taught me that i shouldn’t get caught doing it.  

She didn’t catch me ever again.  But she did instill shame…a feeling i have lived with and worked on in therapy for years.  i was so suppressed sexually that i went underground to the places that most people classify as seedy, trashy, and maybe even disgusting.  i sought out sex anywhere and everywhere it could be found.  Adult bookstores were my go to places.  Loved glory hole action.  But it’s not the kind of thing you proudly proclaim to your friends – I sucked off five guys last night at the peep show.  

Also there were treks to the wooded area of the large city park where men who wanted a quickie  with another man would meander for hours cruising the bushes.  There were days when i would be pulled to go to the Public Library where the second floor bathroom was usually active.  Or the bathroom in the Humanities building at the university could be another option.  All this covert and shaming sexual activity came together over time making me label myself as a sex addict – medicating myself with dick to overcome sadness, low self esteem, depression, loneliness.  Who knows if it is a true addiction, but my sexual activities led to enormous feelings of shame and guilt, that in turn had to be medicated with even more dick.

i only got off that viscous merry-go-round when i got really sick.  But, the shame continued until recently, when i realized i was no longer full of shame for having been a bookstore queen.  How did that happen?  It just did!  i suppose with age came self forgiveness.  But, oh those years of angst and depression…what a waste of time.

Now as i work to come out as a Leatherboy i am having some feelings of fear, embarrassment, apprehension, and self doubt.  i don’t want to be labeled, judged, or pigeon-holed as a freak because i am drawn to intense sensation play, impact play, power exchange, submission and other forms of BDSM and Kink.  i want to be accepted for every bit of who I am including the kinky parts.

i feel like that five year old boy again afraid of being caught doing what arouses intense pleasure in me.  But, this time i am not afraid of getting a spanking; i relish the idea.  My fear now is a fear of being ostracized, separated from the people in my life that i love the most.

i have a question for you, my readers:  how do Y/you or did Y/you work through feelings of fear, apprehension, embarrassment and self doubt as Y/you explored Y/your proclivities for BDSM/Kink?  Have Y/you come out to friends or family, or do Y/you keep this part of Y/your true nature hidden from all but other Kinksters?
Thank you for reading,

boy stray