Thursday, March 25, 2010

Past Steps: From abuse to need

At some point something in me clicked. When my dad stopped whoring me out, at first i was excited. Then it started to set in... The need to be filled again. I had gotten so used to the abuse side of it i never really allowed myself to like getting fucked, but when it stopped, i started to miss it.

As a 16 year old, i was not 'allowed' to look at porn or go on gay dating sites. Now let me preface this by saying you should not lie about your age on any web page. Anyway back in the real world i started to watch porn. I learned about file sharing and was downloading porn (this is where i developed my unhealthy crush/hero worship of Zak Spears). I started to find people to fuck on yahoo groups (360 before they shut it down).

I also started to fuck around more with people at school. I had been on the cross country team my freshmen year of highschool, and i did track sophmore and junior year. At the end of junior year my buddies convinced me to try out for football. Since i was a lean runner who could (and still can) take a hit, i went for running back (halfback for all you football nazis out there). I wasnt half bad, got on varsity ahead of a returning player cuz i could run the full football field twice before he could do it once. I was a fast little fucker.

Football was probally the best outlet for my agression and pent up rage at my father. It was also a great release of sex, as the footballers basically got anyone we wanted, including eachother. I wont tell alot of stories here but i fucked and got fucked alot. We basically used the wrestling team who could not win a match to be our slaves for making the school look like shit. i was a god among men when we would win, when i would score. there was a thrill there, a rush that almost beat sex.

But all along i knew something was different about me, we all did the 'help a brother out' but i was far more willing to take it than give it with guys who were bigger than me. Some of the skinny wrestlers i would pound and make scream. but with bigger muscled guys i was on my back legs in the air begging for them to abuse me.

That need still is in me, and it still disturbs me. I love getting fucked, i don't understand it. I don't know if its a habit that formed, a compulsion to serve bigger men that i was unconsciously trained by my father for or if i was naturally going to be a bitch for muscle daddies.

I still dont know. but something in me drives me to engage in risky behavior to get off, to get my hole filled. to 'scratch the itch' that i never knew i had.