Date: Sat, 29 Dec 2007 21:22:49 -0800 (PST)
From: christopher mannie <boy13loved@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Ruin Of A Boy (adult/youth, incest, authoritarian)

			       Ruining A Boy
				    By
			    Christopher Mannie
			   Boy13loved@yahoo.com


This story is my friends story. He asked me to tell it.  He is now in his
fifties.  I believe him. He has never lied to me. But it is entirely up to
you too decide if its real or not.  All the privious disclaimers apply.

These events took place in 1967 in small town in the midwest, near the
great lakes.



I have done this before.  In fact I have lost count now.

I now totally accept the orders of my uncle.  I have, only three months
later, grown to accept what he tells me. to do.  I know it is what my
Father wants.  He repeatedly has told me to obey my Uncle, his brother, as
my Father is very busy with his studies, as a college professor.  And even
though I think he loves me, (he never told me) he is not able to give me
the help he says I need.  He thinks I have sexual problems.

You see, one day my Father walked in on me when I was in the bathroom.  I
was twelve, and I was nude and masturbating while lying in the tub.  He had
a look of total embarrasment.  I still remember it all like it was
yesterday.  I was too shocked to move.  My dick was in my right hand and it
was totally hard, wet and soapy.  He just stood there.  And did not move.
Neither of us did.  He looked hard at my cock and my naked body, and then
my face.  And I knew exactly what he was thinking.  First the look of shock
on his face, then the growing redness, then the disgust, the rage.  Then,
without a word, he turned around and walked out of the bathroom and slammed
the door.

He did not talk to me for two weeks.

I had seen it before, often between him and my mother.  Many times I heard
the harsh words of my Father said in anger.  They were not close.  There
was a great deal of silence.  I was their only child.

Don't get me wrong, my Father was a good provider. We had a beautiful home
and he was well respected in town.  We had some money, but weren't rich.
But he had clear cut beliefs, and he ruled our home.  And my Mother obeyed.
So did I.

Only two days before the bathroom incident earlier I had learned to
masterbate.

I was a loner, with almost no friends.  Because we moved often, I had not
been able to make any lasting relationships.  So, even though I had heard
about 'jerking off' from some of the boys at school.  I didn't know what
that meant.  And it was purely accidental, how I learned to jerk off.  I
was laying on my bed nude.

Many nights, since I was about ten, I would spend a great deal of time
rubbing myself all over, sometimes I would rub my whole body with my
hands., and just take in the pleasure of being touched.

That's right, I would first close the door to my bedroom, then turn out the
light.  Then I would slowly take all clothes off.  Sometimes I just stood
there in the dark, and beginning with my face I would feel my facial
features.  Then sticking my fingers in my mouth I would wet my fingers and
reach down too my tits and pinch them and watch them grow redder with the
touch.  I loved for them to stick out and often pulled them to see how far
they would go.  I remember deciding that each night before I went to bed I
would pull each tit thirty times.  That lasted only a few nights as they
got so sore.  I had to stop.  My clothes rubbed them raw in the day time.

Often I would set up in bed and begin with my toes and feel every inch of
my body with my finger tips.  I wanted to be touched and loved so badly I
can see that now.  But it felt good.  And I liked myself, before my
incident with my Father in the bathroom.

At eleven, I started growing a few hairs around my cock.  I remember being
disapointed cause I like being bald down there and always dreamed of the
boys at school naked in the P.E. showers.  I loved my body and felt that it
was beautiful.  I had dark black hair, after my Mother, who had Italian
ancestors.  She was beautiful. Everyone said I looked like my Mother.  I
had a true bubble butt. My Mother had trouble buying me clothes because of
that.  She said many times that I would have been a pretty girl.

On one paticular night, I was laying with the covers all off and feeling my
balls, my cock, then rubbing my middle finger down under my balls to my
crack, then back again.  Time and time again I repeated this. I loved the
feeling!  All of a sudden, I got the idea to just rub my cock and not stop.
I had done it a little before but had stopped when i stated to feel funny.
This time I did not stop.  The feeling began to roll over me, wave after
wave, and to my astonishment, I felt an incredible rush and began to feel
hot and wonderful, beautiful, sexy.  Thoughts of boys nude flashed through
my mind. I saw one in paticular I had seen at school.

All of a sudden, my body jerked, my cock erupted and shots of something
white went on my stomach, and one on my tit.  The second went onto the few
hairs i had around my cock.  And with the third, a more watery juicy fluid,
ran down my fist which still gripped my now hurting cock.  And then it hit
me.....this is jerking off!

My cock hurt most of the time over the next two days, as I could not get
enough.  All my attentions, before and after school, certainly in bed at
night, centered around my cock now instead of the rest of my body.  This
was awesome!  I had never felt so good in all my life!

Then that happened with my Father in the bathroom.

Surprisingly, even though i would never forget my Father's look of disgust
(as he looked at my body) for the rest of my life, I still loved jerking
off and making myself feel good during those two weeks.  Sex began to
overrule every other thing in my life.  (If I had only known, what was too
come).  But it was for pleasure that I jerked off now.. ..Not because I
thought I was beautiful.  No, it helped to take away the inner pain.  And
for a few moments, at least.  I was happy and at peace.

My growing sense of disappointment in my body, depression at having not
pleased my Father, and new found sexual feelings was the beginning of a new
chapter in my life.

As I said, he did not speak to me for two weeks.

Then I come home from school one day. He was there.  He had an envelope in
his hand, and said he wanted to talk to me in the den, which was his
office.

He sat across from me behind his desk.  He was cool, and too the point.
"Michael, I have been talking to your Uncle about about the situation here
with you.  You have a problem.  And we are going to work on it.  I expect
total cooperation on your part in the arrangements I have made.  Your Uncle
is moving up here to be closer to us, and I will, in turn, help him with
his expenses.  We are looking for a home within a mile or so of town, as
your Uncle likes the country.  After he has moved here, he has consented to
take a very active part in your life, and help you with your problems.  I
just have too much to do at the college to do anything now.  And, well, you
know your Mother can't do anything with your needs.  So I have decided that
you will live with your Uncle, and come home on various days to visit."

My Father reached for the envelope I had seen earlier. "These are
gaurdianship papers. It gives your Uncle custody of you.  You are still our
Son, but he has control over your everyday activites now."  Then he paused,
stuffing the papers back into the envelope.  "Now, did I make myself clear?
Do you understand all this?"

I don't really remember what I said just then, but I remember crying.



Dear friends, I will send the rest of this story as quickly as possible.
You may email me at Boy13loved@yahoo.com

Christopher Mannie