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When I Was A Kid
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Straight Male / 38
This is something I have never shared, in any form.
When I was very young, my parents were in transition to another state, and we stayed with my grandparents for a year. I was 7 years old. I quickly became friends with a girl my age who lived across the street (it's amazing to think about how easy and uncomplicated friendship was back then). We played together almost every day, we were inseparable.
However, there were some disturbing things surrounding her. My parents told me how her parents both had careers (I guess this was still somewhat unusual back in 1983), and how they would buy her things to compensate for never spending time with her. She certainly had lots of toys. This may have been typical middle class judgementalism, but then it was disquieting.
Much worse, one day both her arms were covered in nasty crescent shaped wounds only partly covered by band-aids. I asked her what happened. She said that she was taking a bath, and her mother was sitting in the bathroom with her, just silently staring at her. Then, still saying nothing, she dug her nails deeply into both her arms. She recounted this without emotion, but I was horrified, and my young mind couldn't conceive what kind of malignant mother could do such a thing.
At some point after this, we were both in our bathing suits playing with the sprinklers. She started wrestling with me. She was much stronger and pinned me easily, sitting on my stomach, but I felt no competitiveness and wasn't bothered by this. We started blowing raspberries and pretending she was pooping on me, which to us was the height of hilarity. Then she lifted my shirt, pulled aside the crotch of her bathing suit, sat on my bare skin, and said she was going to pee on me. While I thought she was kidding I still tried to get up, but she pinned me down, and just looked down at me. I was fascinated by what I was looking at, and I told her that her tongue was sticking out at me. I still have a pretty vivid visual memory of this, and despite her age, what was sticking out was her large and swollen clitoris.
Then I saw her yellow pee leak onto my stomach and roll down my sides. I was feeling something, very strongly, but I'm having a hard time describing it, or even whether the feeling was positive or not. Feelings were so much stronger back then. Part of it was sexual titillation. But more than that, it was this intense, elemental feeling of being overwhelmed and of being conquered. She got up, and I cleaned myself off with the sprinkler.
This happened over and over again, dozens and dozens of times, she would wrestle me, pin me, and urinate on me, sometimes a few drops, sometimes a flood. She called it "the ____ game", and on some level I accepted that, that it was a game we were playing. But really, I knew it was not. This was all very emotional for me, in a way I really can't pin down, and very confusing. I didn't resist her.
We were not discreet. First her housekeeper saw us in the back yard, after the act. She said simply "____, that's not very nice.", and closed the door. I overheard my parents talking about what an Amazon my friend was. We were doing this openly, in the front yard, and a passing car stopped for an undue amount of time before driving on. My parents and grandparents went to a meeting at our school. Hearing them talk, I came to the sickening realization that we were the topic of the meeting. There were pictures. They knew, and it was the most horribly embarrassing thing I ever experienced. My mom said a few words to me like, "Kids here in (this state) have sex by peeing on each other", but that was all, and I never volunteered anything, ever, pretending it was still a secret.
After we left, I kept hearing from my grandparents how much this girl was talking about me, how she kept asking about me, and asking when I would return. I rolled my eyes to convey the proper disdain, but inside I was mortified. When we finally did visit again, over a year later, she started knocking on the front door, with a bouquet of flowers for me. I hid in my room, and told my mom to make her go away. She told her I wasn't feeling well, but my friend would keep coming back, day after day. Finally I confronted her, told her I hated her and that I never wanted to see her again. She was crushed, and left crying. She tried coming back a few more times, but I hid from her. I never saw her since.
Even though it seems obvious, it is amazing how long it took me to connect these events with my present state of being. The influence was profound. For one, I became and remain deeply intimidated by females. I know this is common for males, but not I think to the degree I feel it. For the longest time, she was the last female friend I had.
It strongly influenced my sexuality. For one, I am ashamed of it, even though my parents never fostered this kind of attitude. Talking about it has always made me uncomfortable, wanting it seems wrong and dirty, even now. And, I had no interest in girls, even though when I was young I was very handsome and had plenty of girls after me. I felt both fear of them, and contempt, because they were not physically overpowering me like they were supposed to. I have the physical attributes to allow me a rich romantic life, very good looks, I am very tall, well built, and have an extremely large penis. But this is nothing to envy or be intimidated by, I can count the times I have "used" my penis on one hand, and "used" is quoted because sex doesn't interest me, and so is impossible. Throughout all my rich and varied fantasy life, I have thought about penetrating a girl maybe twice.
My fantasies used to revolve around being physically dominated, and forced to perform orally. But few girls can overpower me, and fewer still want to, so my reality was and is barren and lonely. But eventually I stopped conceiving myself in sexual terms entirely, my sexuality is too incompatible with my body. All I ever fantasize about is lesbian domination and submission, I am completely left out of the picture.
In short, I am a loser, I'm 38, my looks have faded, life has passed me by, and I am quite certain I will be spending the rest of my life, and my death, alone. In the past I thought about suicide very frequently, it was the only thought that made me genuinely happy. Now, I am dully resigned.
I recently looked up this girl, now woman. Her outcome is almost too stereotypically sound, too congruent with what I know of her. She is a senior partner at a large and prestigious law firm. I saw a picture of her, she is beautiful, and her arm is around a very handsome younger guy. As someone who is very attuned to this sort of thing, their facial and body language spoke volumes about the nature of that relationship, and about who wears the pants. I am so jealous of him.
When I was very young, my parents were in transition to another state, and we stayed with my grandparents for a year. I was 7 years old. I quickly became friends with a girl my age who lived across the street (it's amazing to think about how easy and uncomplicated friendship was back then). We played together almost every day, we were inseparable.
However, there were some disturbing things surrounding her. My parents told me how her parents both had careers (I guess this was still somewhat unusual back in 1983), and how they would buy her things to compensate for never spending time with her. She certainly had lots of toys. This may have been typical middle class judgementalism, but then it was disquieting.
Much worse, one day both her arms were covered in nasty crescent shaped wounds only partly covered by band-aids. I asked her what happened. She said that she was taking a bath, and her mother was sitting in the bathroom with her, just silently staring at her. Then, still saying nothing, she dug her nails deeply into both her arms. She recounted this without emotion, but I was horrified, and my young mind couldn't conceive what kind of malignant mother could do such a thing.
At some point after this, we were both in our bathing suits playing with the sprinklers. She started wrestling with me. She was much stronger and pinned me easily, sitting on my stomach, but I felt no competitiveness and wasn't bothered by this. We started blowing raspberries and pretending she was pooping on me, which to us was the height of hilarity. Then she lifted my shirt, pulled aside the crotch of her bathing suit, sat on my bare skin, and said she was going to pee on me. While I thought she was kidding I still tried to get up, but she pinned me down, and just looked down at me. I was fascinated by what I was looking at, and I told her that her tongue was sticking out at me. I still have a pretty vivid visual memory of this, and despite her age, what was sticking out was her large and swollen clitoris.
Then I saw her yellow pee leak onto my stomach and roll down my sides. I was feeling something, very strongly, but I'm having a hard time describing it, or even whether the feeling was positive or not. Feelings were so much stronger back then. Part of it was sexual titillation. But more than that, it was this intense, elemental feeling of being overwhelmed and of being conquered. She got up, and I cleaned myself off with the sprinkler.
This happened over and over again, dozens and dozens of times, she would wrestle me, pin me, and urinate on me, sometimes a few drops, sometimes a flood. She called it "the ____ game", and on some level I accepted that, that it was a game we were playing. But really, I knew it was not. This was all very emotional for me, in a way I really can't pin down, and very confusing. I didn't resist her.
We were not discreet. First her housekeeper saw us in the back yard, after the act. She said simply "____, that's not very nice.", and closed the door. I overheard my parents talking about what an Amazon my friend was. We were doing this openly, in the front yard, and a passing car stopped for an undue amount of time before driving on. My parents and grandparents went to a meeting at our school. Hearing them talk, I came to the sickening realization that we were the topic of the meeting. There were pictures. They knew, and it was the most horribly embarrassing thing I ever experienced. My mom said a few words to me like, "Kids here in (this state) have sex by peeing on each other", but that was all, and I never volunteered anything, ever, pretending it was still a secret.
After we left, I kept hearing from my grandparents how much this girl was talking about me, how she kept asking about me, and asking when I would return. I rolled my eyes to convey the proper disdain, but inside I was mortified. When we finally did visit again, over a year later, she started knocking on the front door, with a bouquet of flowers for me. I hid in my room, and told my mom to make her go away. She told her I wasn't feeling well, but my friend would keep coming back, day after day. Finally I confronted her, told her I hated her and that I never wanted to see her again. She was crushed, and left crying. She tried coming back a few more times, but I hid from her. I never saw her since.
Even though it seems obvious, it is amazing how long it took me to connect these events with my present state of being. The influence was profound. For one, I became and remain deeply intimidated by females. I know this is common for males, but not I think to the degree I feel it. For the longest time, she was the last female friend I had.
It strongly influenced my sexuality. For one, I am ashamed of it, even though my parents never fostered this kind of attitude. Talking about it has always made me uncomfortable, wanting it seems wrong and dirty, even now. And, I had no interest in girls, even though when I was young I was very handsome and had plenty of girls after me. I felt both fear of them, and contempt, because they were not physically overpowering me like they were supposed to. I have the physical attributes to allow me a rich romantic life, very good looks, I am very tall, well built, and have an extremely large penis. But this is nothing to envy or be intimidated by, I can count the times I have "used" my penis on one hand, and "used" is quoted because sex doesn't interest me, and so is impossible. Throughout all my rich and varied fantasy life, I have thought about penetrating a girl maybe twice.
My fantasies used to revolve around being physically dominated, and forced to perform orally. But few girls can overpower me, and fewer still want to, so my reality was and is barren and lonely. But eventually I stopped conceiving myself in sexual terms entirely, my sexuality is too incompatible with my body. All I ever fantasize about is lesbian domination and submission, I am completely left out of the picture.
In short, I am a loser, I'm 38, my looks have faded, life has passed me by, and I am quite certain I will be spending the rest of my life, and my death, alone. In the past I thought about suicide very frequently, it was the only thought that made me genuinely happy. Now, I am dully resigned.
I recently looked up this girl, now woman. Her outcome is almost too stereotypically sound, too congruent with what I know of her. She is a senior partner at a large and prestigious law firm. I saw a picture of her, she is beautiful, and her arm is around a very handsome younger guy. As someone who is very attuned to this sort of thing, their facial and body language spoke volumes about the nature of that relationship, and about who wears the pants. I am so jealous of him.
- That's Juicy! 12
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