Date: Fri, 13 Jan 2006 11:53:25 EST
From: Suck4Straight@aol.com
Subject: SHAME-BASED SUCKER

I am a masochistic cocksucker. I mean, I like to give oral pleasure to a
hyper-masculine, abusive-type straight guy. I like it when the guy calls me
names, like "faggot," "queer," "bitch," or "pervert." I like to have the
guy make me feel ashamed of myself for being so queer for him at the same
time that I'm doing my best to make his dick feel good in my mouth for him,
sucking on it.  I like to be spit at and slapped around abusively while I'm
being called names.  I like it when the guy calls up his buddies on the
phone and tells them he's got a "live one," while I'm down on my knees
between his legs bobbing up and down on it, slurping it up, gagging on it.
I like doing degrading stuff for him like sniffing out his sweaty nuts,
licking his feet, sucking his toes, licking out his armpits and his asshole
for him, while we wait for his pals to arrive.

When his buddies arrive with a case of beer, I take them all on, while they
smoke my cigarettes and grass and use me as their suck bitch.  I like it
when a sort of pack mentality begins to make some of the guys more abusive.
I've enjoyed being pissed on by guys--either all at once or else taking
turns, one after the other. I've also submitted to beltings and whippings.
I get excited when it feels like it might get out of hand. After a truly
abusive session, when you'd think I would have felt the worst, I instead
feel relieved, relaxed and empowered. .

In my case the ultimate cause of this masochism was inadequate fathering.
My dad was an iron worker and I remember him mostly being too tired to do
anything with us boys (except, significantly, the occasional spanking).  So
many of the skills I needed to function socially as a boy (i.e. learn to
throw a ball, learn to ride a bike) I had to do the best I could on my own.
When a cousin or a pal would help me learn these things, I would end up
having a crush on him (what I really needed was a dad). Since spankings
were one type of interaction my dad did do, I ended up making this power
display a central theme in my adult fantasy life.  I thought that somehow,
if my dad really whipped me hard (which he never did) it would somehow
"make a man out of me."

In the early sixties it was still common for dads to whip their sons in
working-class neighborhoods.  I remember hearing a kid down the street
really "getting it" from his dad, on more than one occasion, who used a
razor strop on his boys out in the garage.  The kid once showed me his
welts the day after a particularly brutal beating when we were both around
twelve. I was turned-on by this even then.

Since I so craved masculine attention and didn't know how to fight, I fell
victim to bullies in junior high school.  They would abuse me in the boys
room after school, making me light their cigarettes or kiss their sneakers,
making me hold their dicks for them while they pissed.  I thought if I just
do what they say, I won't get hurt.  They would call me names while they
abused me for kicks.

Although I repressed this (even now the memories are hazy and partial)
these kinds of actions became very heavily charged as symbols of power and
continue to play a major role in my fantasy life to this day.  Although I
never fantasize about these incidents themselves, I can see now that I
restage variations of them. It is called "identification with the
aggressor," when someone being forcibly dominated begins to get off on the
sadistic abuse itself, as a sort of defense mechanism.

I used to think that if I understood my masochism, it would disappear.  It
didn't, but at least for me it's no longer a mystery.