On Mon, 28 Jun 2010 13:15:26 -0600, HMS Victor Victorian
<victorvictorian@hushunomail.com> wrote:
>On Sun, 27 Jun 2010 22:13:21 -0400, NP-f31 wrote:
>
>>Hey Double V,
>>
>>>Oh! Bangkok!
>>
>>Yes, when I was in Boy Scouts we gave one another 'lobsters'. It
>>amounts to a full, painful squueze. I had lots of lobsters given to
>>me, but I only gave them to boys whose hidden treasures held my
>>interest. Several times I found more than I expected in a fellow
>>scout's crotch. ;)
>>
>>>Do you know I actually had an adult, a big and burly ape of a man, do
>>>that to me? At a public card game, for Heaven's Sake! Can you
>>>imagine? I was hardly amused, and had to excuse myself for ten
>>>minutes. The bore was totally bladdered.
>>
>>I'll bet your bladder didn't do much better...
>>
>>>I saw orgasm defined as "euphoria." Well, if that is the case, I
>>>suppose one can achieve that at nearly any age. When you were 8, do
>>>you recall how you felt emotionally and what you felt physiologically
>>>when you acheived orgasm?
>>
>>At first I wondered what my Uncle was on about. Once he got going, he
>>definitely had my interest. He was quite good at it. Eventually, the
>>tip of my penis seemed to be the focal point of the entire universe. I
>>was enthralled by the growing sensation. It felt better and better and
>>better and reached a point where it felt so good it was too much. And
>>then it went past that to feeling so good it hurt. I stood up and he
>>stopped. He asked me how I liked it and I said it was fun. I remember
>>how hot my face felt. Then he said he wanted me to do the same to
>>him. He had a massive organ. It was at least 12 inches long and I
>>couldn't hardly even fit the head in my mouth. He was not pleased. He
>>told me to stop and stand there while he started hammering on his
>>member. He was looking intently at my penis and when it started to go
>>flaccid he reached out with his other hand to coax it to life. It
>>responded and he proceeded to have his own climax. He was a 'yeller'
>>he kept saying, 'Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!' I thought he was in pain. He
>>said 'You want to see me cum?' I didn't know what he was talking
>>about. He shot all over his stomach and into his dense mound of pubic
>>hair. He continued to masturbate even after he'd come. He explained
>>that he wanted to 'get it all out so it didn't get in his underwear'.
>>I suppose he didn't do his own laundry...
>>
>>>Does it compare one to one with your
>>>experience after coming of age?
>>
>>My experiences with others had a much more emotional appeal and active
>>involvement on my part. My first orgasm was intense and memorable, but
>>I've had better. The best have been with someone I was completely in
>>love with, and the feelings returned. There is nothing better.
>>
>>>I think the majority sexual behaviour by boys is behaviour targeting
>>>sexual themes (Ouch! Sometimes literally!) but not sexual
>>>satisfaction. I have seen very few boys reach "euphoria" by having
>>>their ("chinese-japanese-what-are-these.") todger batted in the lunch
>>>line.
>>
>>I daresay. I agree with you largely, but I think that the older the
>>boys are (approaching puberty) the more they leave their options open
>>for the game to progress beyond grabass. T-Bone told me about the
>>first time he played 'Spin the bottle' it was a mixed group of 11 and
>>12 year old boys and 12 and 13 year old girls at a sleepover at his
>>friend's house. Apparently the rules of this game required the boy and
>>girl who were kissing to go into a separate room to kiss. After T-Bone
>>kissed his first girl there was a whispering among the girls and they
>>immediately did all they could to kiss T-Bone. The other boys caught
>>on and soon became jealous. T-Bone is a VERY good kisser, masterful in
>>fact. After the game was over the oldest girl (in 7th grade) said he
>>could be her boyfriend but he couldn't tell anyone because he was
>>still in 5th grade and she was in 7th. LOL! That night his three
>>friends ask him to show them how to kiss. He obliged them all and the
>>boys got SO worked up that there was a bit of a jerkfest!
>>
>>>I am very sorry to hear your experience with your uncle was a negative
>>>one. Do you want to talk about it?
>>
>>It was unpleasant after that first time. I wasn't surprised though, he
>>was about 7 years older than me. He'd alway resented me because I was
>>the first grandchild. When I was six, he had let his friends beat me
>>up. During our subsequent sexual relationship it was all one sided.
>>All about him. He was abusive emotionally and physically. He would
>>hold me down and fart in my face, for example. He was tremendously
>>interested in my sexual development. He wanted to see my pubic hair,
>>do I have hair under my armpit? By the time I was twelve I was more
>>resistent to his manipulations, so he began to get me interested with
>>porn. I was interested in that, of course, because I had no access to
>>it. When I was 13 he came to live with us. He slept in the room next
>>to mine. I was NOT happy. He would do whatever he could to sneak peeks
>>at me when I was naked. He would make fun of the way I masturbated. He
>>did whatever he could think of to humilate me. When I was 14, I was
>>finally as tall as him, but I was heavier and more muscular. He was a
>>skinny little stick, even at 21.
>>
>>One day in January he was helping my father and me unload a haywagon
>>full of hay bales that we'd bought to feed our horses. It was a cold
>>day. He was riding my ass the whole time, making fun at me, poking me,
>>just giving me shit for no reason. I kept looking at my Dad to make
>>him stop. My Dad was looking at me to stop it myself. So I stewed and
>>when I'd had enough and he insulted me yet again (really stupid shit
>>too) I lit into him. I tackled him, got him on his back, pinned his
>>arms down with my legs and started pummeling him. He struggled and
>>told me to let him up, he was going to kick my ass. I kept pounding
>>him, his chest, his face his neck. He struggled harder and couldn't
>>budge me. I kept hitting him with all I had. I paid him back for
>>everything he ever did to me. When the blood started to pour out of
>>his nose and his lips were bleeding he started to panic. He yelled to
>>my Dad to get me off of him. My Dad looked at him and said, 'You got
>>yourself into this'. After that I started punching him with my right
>>fist in the jaw. I know it had to hurt. He started to cry and pleaded
>>with me to stop.
>>
>>I stopped hitting him and I looked down at him and realized I was
>>crying too. He was fucked up and had never landed a blow. I got up and
>>left him alone. Needless to say, that was the day my abuse ended.
>>
>>The really sad thing is that if he'd have approached me in a different
>>way, we could have had some fun.
>>
>>>I've had two individuals who have expressed their condolences over my
>>>stunted childhood, that they were sorry I'd missed the fun.
>>>Considering the kind intent, I thank them for their concern. I had a
>>>very good boyhood. Why, I flew to the moon, was an American cowboy,
>>
>>Ha Ha! Me too! I was John Glenn circling the earth!
>>
>>>a naked Indian boy,
>>
>>Sorry I missed that play date!
>>
>>>a soldier, an Amazon explorer, a caveman, an
>>>Austrailian sheep dog and loved son of a king ...
>>
>>I was a circus puppy (orphaned, but very talented)
>>
>>>I built great
>>>civilisations (granted, from the stacks of children's classical books
>>>Mum had expected me to actually read!) of towering buildings,
>>>magnificent ports and fortresses impregnable, and commanded vast
>>>armies. I was at Balaclava, Trafalgar, Gallipoli,
>>
>>I missed out on those battles. I fought the Germans in France though.
>>We had the best time because we were fighting inside of partially
>>constructed new homes. Dried dirt clods make awesome exploding
>>grenades!
>>
>>>with Braddock and Custer and Crazy Horse.
>>
>>I was at the Little Big Horn too. I guess we were both slaughtered
>>that day. I was also at Gettysburg and Antietam when I wasn't a secret
>>agent working inside the Iron Curtain.
>>
>>And I played house with T---- G-----! That was an education.
>>
>>>I believe I did as well as Christopher Robin and I'd love to do it all
>>>again, but I fear they'd lock me up.
>>
>>I read 'Winnie the Pooh' and 'House at Pooh Corner' cover to cover
>>with my oldest son. When Christopher Robin had to leave the Hundred
>>Acre Wood to go to school, my six year old boy had big fat tears in
>>his eyes. Even then he understood that childhood would come to an end.
>>He's 24 now and reportedly cried like a baby during Toy Story 3!
>>That's my boy!
>>
>>Lotsa love,
>>
>>Doc
>>NP-f31
>
>
>Dear Doc,
>
>Yes. There is something boys find absolutely hilarious about pain ...
>inflicting rather than receiving, of course! As a boy, we didn't go
>about grabbing one another's crotches, but did do the dreaded "tit
>twister" (and I don't mean the bird). If a boy had a particularly
>hirsute, peach-fuzzy arm, we had him bend his arm sharply at the elbow
>so the upper and forearm were as together as possible, then
>vigourously rubbed the skin of the upper and lower arm at the junction
>of the elbow in rapid circles. This served to entangle and knot the
>hairs, whereupon another boy would suddenly open the arm out straight,
>thereby yanking out the hairs, resulting in a sharp scream and immense
>mirth.
>
>What is strange is that we boys actually volunteered to have it done
>to us.
Hey Double V,
We used to call those 'Indian sunburns'. Having had it done to me, by
guess who? Yes, my Uncle! I was loathe to do it to another (except my
little sister!)
>We also used a cupped hand and an armpit to evoke a flatulent note,
>then would exclaim, "Oh! Pardon ME!" , followed by raucous laughter
>over how delectably clever we all were.
>
>Bladdered. Aka pissed. Aka drunk.
I was able to do that until I got armpit hairs. Then my magic trick
didn't work anymore.
>Perhaps you did not get the tone of my question regarding orgasm. What
>I wanted to know how your orgasm as an eight-year-old compared or
>contrasted with that as a fourteen-year-old. Were they
>physiologically and tactually the same or different? Note I did not
>use the term 'emotionally', which brings quite alot of baggage with
>its use.
Ah! My mistake. Yes, the feeling was essentially the same at age 8 and
14. The intensity was stronger with the blow job, as you might
imagine, but it was essentially the same as with subsequent blow jobs
and intercourse when I was older(13-14). I began masturbating fairly
regularly at age ten. And the quality of all the orgasms was
essentially the same dry or wet.
>Your uncle seems quite the unpleasant fellow, not worthy of a boy or a
>nephew. Perhaps he has learned with age, but I doubt it. People like
>that don't. I confess that after reading your description, I had to
>do some mental laundry of my own to purge a few of the more odious
>images from my thoughts! I am glad to hear you managed to set him
>straight, as it were.
Once an asshole, always an asshole. He is devoted to my mother though,
so I don't hate him as I might have.
>A sleep over? With twelve and thirteen year old boys and girls mixed?
>My dear God, sir. I would have never allowed it! First, most
>honestly, I would have been intensely jealous of my boy being
>'jezzebelled' by some strumpet, when he should be with me! Second, I
>can't imagine parents agreeing to such a thing, unless particularly
>anxious to become grandparents. One can only wonder what the girls
>were about while T-Bone was cloistered with the boys!
I'm sure they were talking about T-Bone. I must tell you, he has a
boyfriend AND a girlfriend. He is a smart kid that way. He actually
managed to date them BOTH at the same time. I was truly impressed.
There's something about being a blonde, blue eyed boy god that makes
things like that possible.
>You are quite right about dirt clods! I had completely forgotten, but
>we did the same thing. Even as a child, I always sympathised with the
>"underdog", the loser side of things. So I was the German sentry, I
>was the orphaned dog, I was the Roman slave ... I was the lost Indian
>boy. Playing naked Indian boy was great fun. Of course, I was NEVER
>naked, but fully clothed and had merely put some of Mum's tea towels
>on front and back for loincloths (please, please don't tell her!) But
>I felt naked ... and ran naked foot races with other boys, and swam
>naked across rushing streams, and rolled naked in the new-fallen
>Plains snow, to make myself the toughened, resiliant young brave.
>
>Thus I was on the winning side at the Little Big Horn.
I didn't WANT to lose, but we were being historically accurate. My
fondest memory was buying three bags of plastic green soldiers and
spending the entire 4th of July building emplacements for them, roads
for their jeeps and tanks, bunkers, trenches as realistically as we
could in a pile of dirt at a construction site next door. We then took
firecrackers, M-80s, bottle rockets and cherry bombs and beseiged the
plastic soldiers. We lost more than half of the soldiers in the dirt
pile. Others were mutilated by the munitions, the ones guarding the
ammo dump (and entire pack of firecrackers) were singed and partially
melted. At the end of the day, they still held the dirt pile in force
and therefore won the battle.
>I wish I had been truly, but there are behaviours up with which
>mothers will not put (to paraphrase Churchill).
>I never played house with girls. Indeed, if a set of us boys wanted
>to play some domestic game and a girl was needed, as often as not I
>would volunteer to be that girl. I have photos to prove it--you'll
>forgive me if I do not offer them here! Or anywhere, for that
>matter. Ha. Now, when I was probably ten, I recall once we were
>visiting in Durham, and I was looking for my younger cousin, Teddy,
>and a group of neighbor children who had come over. After some
>searching, I heard the lot of them in a secluded bedroom upstairs.
>There was quite a bit of giggling--naughty giggling--going on, so I
>quietly slipped in through the door. At first I saw nothing, but
>noted that the giggling and whispers were coming from beneath a
>massive, cloth-covered mahogany table below the window. I padded up
>and threw the cloth to one side. There was Teddy and two other local
>young boys, kneeling with their trousers and knickers pulled down over
>their thighs and, across from them, a neighbor girl seated in like
>condition, demonstrating the discrete qualities of female prepubescent
>anatomy. They all looked at me with absolute HORROR, jacking up their
>trousers (or panties, or skirts--for girls did not wear trousers
>then). Teddy emplored me, "Don't tell Mum, please! Here is a
>shilling if you don't tell Mum!"
>A shilling! Imagine. Now that was no small amount of money for a
>young lad then, but I, if anything, felt insulted, that he would feel
>the need to BRIBE me to keep my tongue. I gave them all a sneer (and
>a well-deserved one at that, the little randy little bastards) and
>told Teddy, "I don't want that. Put it away. I won't tell."
Good on yer, VV. For a few years I had to import friends to play with
because I lived on a boarding school campus and no one was around all
summer.
>
>And I never did. I am just that way to this very day. My loyalty
>paid, for Teddy and I remained very close friends, and when I was
>fifteen and he eleven we became a bit closer than perhaps was wise.
Good Old Teddy. A cutie was he?
>I read A. A. Milne's works for the first time when I was thirteen and
>fell in love with them. I had been reading science fiction,
>particularly Arthur C. Clarke, but that genre is often dark and
>unsettling. Christopher Robin made me feel happy and safe. Pooh was
>alright, I suppose. Tigger a pain. Eyore pathetic. Piglet helpless.
>I very much liked Roo and the Wise Old Owl. Christopher Robin is gone
>now, I'm sure you know. Live to a good old age, died about 1998
>perhaps. Survived the taunting of his classmates and the War to run a
>bookshop with his wife for many years. He wrote two autobiographies,
>"Enchanted Places" and "Path Through the Trees." Have you read them?
>He had written a third, but I know nothing of it.
This is embarrassing, but I read the entire Compton's Encyclopedia 20
odd volumes cover to cover, though I LOVED 'Lassie Come Home' and
'Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates'. When I was a bit older my
favorite was Lewis Carroll. I really loved the humor in his stories.
The irony of the Walrus and the Carpenter, the description of fish
school (reeling and writhing were my favorite subjects) and the
unusual characters were a joy.
>I think I made the unfortunate statement sometime ago here intimating
>that Christopher Robin was fairly estranged from his famous father,
>who had used him to become famous (standing on the shoulders of a
>six-year-old, I believe the quote from Christopher was). I have since
>learned he loved his father greatly, and the older he got, the greater
>the love grew.
Of course, I wasn't into Christopher Robin until I was a Dad, but by
then he was 'Everyboy' to me. We had an original version of the books
that was my mothers. CR had his little 'bob' haircut and those overall
shorts. So sweet. When I read the books to my kids, I always did the
voices from the Disney version which we owned and they had seen.
Rikard, thank you for your warm sentiments. I am over my abuse, but I
guess you can see how what happened to me affected my view of boylove.
You are a compassionate and caring individual. I hope someday you will
be in a position to love and really care for a boy. When that happens,
the boy will be a VERY lucky one.
Much love,
Doc
NP-f31
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