Date: Tue, 20 Jan 2015 18:42:50 -0600
From: DJ Adams <adamsdj1977@gmail.com>
Subject: As I Recall: An Autobiography.

This is a mostly true story; It includes certain autobiographical details
and a few fabricated ones for good measure. Names, dates and places have
been changed to preserve my anonymity and the privacy of all parties
involved. If you haven't figured out by now, I also write under a pseudonym.

Don't read what you don't want to or are not supposed to. Do donate to
Nifty. Also, do not repost without permission. Enjoy.

*******

My name is DJ Adams. When this story begins, I was only about 11 years old.
Forgive the lack of dialogue but middle school was a long time ago and my
memory fails me from before the move. The actual story doesn't have a happy
ending and sincerely wish it did- I'll let you know when the fiction
begins, in later chapters.

At the time I'm recalling, I had shaggy brown hair in a bowl cut and eyes
that couldn't decide if they wanted to be blue or green. I was a
particularly scrawny, weighing barely 90 pounds and standing about 4' 8"
tall.

Truth be told, I was a late bloomer- The thought of anything even remotely
sexual was completely foreign to me; I was the epitome of 'innocent' and I
totally oblivious to sex. I had never even thought of 'playing with myself'
until a friend showed me, about a month before my 13th birthday, but we
will come to that part, and much more, later.

My family originally came from the outskirts of town, on the south side of
the city, living in a blue-collar neighborhood with a few kids around. My
parents owned our house and the one next door to us, which was rented out
to my older brother, Robbie. Robbie was 8 years older than me and was in
school for photography at the local community college, on the east side of
the city. In total, it was me, Mom, Dad, Robbie and Sam, my Golden
Retriever and best friend in the world.

*******

I had some issues with bullying in school. The other kids liked to make fun
of me because I wore band t-shirts instead of Abercrombie clothes and I
listened to Rock instead of Pop. Hey, Led Zepplin was waaay better than
Aaron Carter or Christina Aguilera (They still are)- But this was the
1990's and the other kids disagreed. They called me lame and generally
shunned me. They also called me gay. I had no idea what 'gay' even was and
I'm pretty positive that most of them didn't either, save for a derogatory
adjective used by older relatives. No matter.

I was able to tread water in the inner city school. I made it through
elementary school and wound up in the middle school in the 6th grade. That
is where we will begin.

*******

The middle school was located in the heart of downtown with a great view of
the ocean and the docks, just up the block. You could always look out the
window whenever you were bored with class and watch the sailboats and
ferries come and go.

I would only spend one year at this school and, in truth, it was the
happiest school year of my life. The bullying was over, my classes were
great and my friends were better. Particularly Alan, Benjamin, Ross and
Marie were my core group. Alan, Benjamin and I used to play Runescape
together, slow as the internet was back then. Ross and Marie dated
on-and-off.

I didn't know why then but I always enjoyed being around Ross- I liked to
be near him and to listen to his voice, even if he didn't have anything in
particular to say. He was fun to hang with and nice to look at. I guess, at
11, I figured out that I was attracted to him. Unlike most, I actually
didn't have any problems or questions about it: I had my first crush on
Ross and that was okay.

I never said anything to Ross about it, partly because I was timid and
partly because he had Marie. Life was pretty sweet at that point.
None-the-less, we continued to hang out and play innocently. Everyone we
knew was fairly naive about sex- Even for the often-dating couple that was
Ross and Marie, 'dating' only meant holding hands, cuddling and maybe a
peck on the lips. At 11 and 12, that was a world away from the way things
are today.

Also worth mentioning was Caleb- We never hung out outside of school
because he was on the north side of the city but, in school, he was always
hilarious and wicked fun to be around. Looking back, I think Caleb knew he
was gay, even then. I may venture to say he may have liked me back then but
it would be a guess, at best. All I knew for sure was that he was extra
nice, nicer than the other boys who were already kind in their own rites.
Still, Caleb always was special. I enjoyed the time I spent with him. The
school had couches in the hallways for students to hang out on during study
halls; Caleb and I had many a talk and read many a book on the second floor
of the school. Ironic, I liked Ross, who didn't know I liked him, while
simultaneously Caleb may have liked me and I had no clue. Weird.

All-in-all, the school year went quickly and I couldn't wait to get back.

*******

The move came suddenly. It was the fall, two weeks before school started up
again, and we were moving out of the city to a cul-de-sac two towns away. I
wasn't exactly pleased with the idea about going into the 7th grade without
knowing anybody, in a notoriously snobby town no-less. Little choice did I
have.

I said goodbye to my friends at the end of the summer. We all vowed to stay
in touch; Those vows were broken as quickly as they were made.

*******

The new house was... Different... Here, we had a colonial house instead of
a duplex. Here, we had an acre of yard instead of a dirt patch and a chain
link fence. We were now in suburbia. The town we moved to was full of upper
middle-class folks and their spoiled-rotten offspring. The general
consensus among the adults in the area was that this town was one of the
best places in the state to live in... They were mistaken.

I went to the town middle school, two days before school began, to take my
placement testing. The staff wanted to stick me in AP/Honors classes but I
requested Advanced instead as I didn't want to be bothered by that kind of
workload- That was something I would come to regret... Dumber classes meant
more Neanderthals and their accompanying ignorance.

Four kids. Four. Four kids would give me a hard time. The absence of
bullying in sixth grade accustomed me to letting my guard down. I was
always nice and unassuming of people. That innocence got me bullied
severely. These kids in this entire Hell-hole were of a different calibre:
Spoiled, mean-spirited, entitled and hypersexually-charged. At 11 and 12,
the sixth graders in the town school were having all-out sex while my old
school was barely kissing.

Being nice to other boys instead of razing them and, also, failing to talk
about which 'hot pussy' I wanted to fuck got me pegged as a faggot. Class
wasn't bad, as most of the bullies were in standard classes; Lunch was an
issue because lunch was served in three waves and none of my friends were
in that wave, aside of one named Louis who took me under his wing and let
me sit with him and his other friends.

The Bus and the walk between classes was where the bullies took their toll.

There were rays of hope, though: Louis was a good friend. Joe and Brian
were, too, and they made up my core group of friends. We hung out outside
of school, usually going to each other's house, going to the mall or
catching a movie. They made life bearable at that place.

The other ray of light was in the form of James. James was a boy I only
knew because of gym. He was blond-headed with very pretty green eyes. He
stood about as tall as me but was much more height-weight proportional. He
always wore that American Eagle style and had flippy hair, long before JB
was even a thought. James wasn't all looks, either: He was in all AP/Honors
classes and took Algebra 1.

The thing that was the best about him was his smile; Seldom did James not
smile. Happy-go-lucky comes to mind.

In gym, lockers weren't assigned to us so we picked whichever ones we
wanted. I'd go into the locker room and always go to the same locker, while
James would pick a locker next to mine. He always smiled and me and said
hello. I think he knew I was bullied so he made it point to ask how my day
was and talk for a while before class. I liked him. He was outwardly sweet
and he didn't seem to care what other people thought of him: An old soul of
sorts and one who made it his personal mission in life to simply be happy.

We never hung out outside of school. Maybe he didn't have time or maybe his
group of friends were in a different circle than mine. Maybe I just didn't
have the courage to ask- He wouldn't have said 'no', even if he'd abhored
the idea. James wasn't like that.

*******

The bullying got worse as the school year wore on. Things were getting
physical but I was never the type to be a punching bag; I had my limits.

Walking in to school, one morning, one of the bullies, Ralph, grabbed a
handful of my hair and pulled. My response was to try and stab him with a
pen- Just one quick jab to tell him to back off. I made no contact and no
reports were filed but things were getting bad. And he was only one of Four.

My parents got involved and the administration dragged their feet,
eventually having a 'sit-down' with each of us. Well, more like three
sit-downs with each of us, as the complaints from my parents and I recurred
again and again as things failed to improve.

My friends were good people but they couldn't protect me all the time and,
frankly, I didn't even want to get into a fight with up to four people so
how could I expect them to? Especially on my behalf?

Louis, Joe, Brian and I still hung out. Things were still good there.
However, after the last time in the Dean's office, things with the bullies
had been boiling. Still, James was as sweet to me as ever (hence why I
suspect he knew). The situation came to a head when one of the bullies,
named Carlos, shoved me into a locker. Carlos was huge: probably 5' 6" and
130 pounds, dwarfing me; It was a losing fight and I knew it but I couldn't
care less, so long as I got one good punch in. In front of a whole hallway
full of people, I swung as hard as I could and thumped him in the mouth.
Carlos seized me, pushing my back against the lockers as I struggled to
break free.

"Chill out, dude!! I'm sorry!!" He yelled at me, trying to get my
attention. I stopped fighting and squinted my eyes in suspicion at him.
"I'm sorry... I don't wanna fight you."

With that, he let me go. I walked to my class and so did he. You might've
thought it would end there but it didn't. One of the other bullies, named
Craig, put out 'the word' and I got all kinds of warnings from my friends
for me to watch my back. Apparently, Craig was pissed that I hit one of his
friends and he wanted to jump me in retaliation.

I went to my parents, fearing that I would get beat up by the four of them.
My parents were furious and went to the school. They went over the Dean and
directly to the Principal. His response was that he wanted nothing to do
with anything, citing that he would have to investigate and that I would
probably be the one facing assault charges because I started the fight.
That was the final straw.

*******

I left the school on a Friday near the end of the year and never went back.
My parents enrolled me in a Catholic school for the coming fall.

By the following week, friends told me that word had gotten around rapidly
as to why I was pulled from the district. They claimed there was a moral
uproar from the entire student body. People I didn't know texted me and
offered to look out for me. Teachers got in touch with my family to offer
the same. It didn't matter. Why was this so egregious now and not for all
the other months I suffered? No sale.

The only thing that made me think twice was when I got word that James was
asking about me. I wanted to ask for his number but I never got the nerve
to. With summer, we all fell out of touch shortly thereafter.

*******

I did keep in touch with Louis for a short while. We grew very close and I
wound up spending the night at his house every Friday night. It was
important enough that my parents would sometimes let me skip Church on
Sundays so I could spend the night on Saturdays.

One night, we decided to play the old 'I'll show you mine if you show me
yours' game. Louis was impressed with my size. For being a late bloomer, my
penis grew quite a bit before the rest of me did. He made comments about my
size and my balls hanging low- He knew waaay more about this than I did and
I suspected that he'd peeked with other boys before. In case you're
wondering, I've only grown to a total of seven inches. Either he and his
friends were small or I had a prompt maturation.

Louis introduced me to masturbation. He would jerk himself and get his
'good feeling'. I would see what he looked like when he did and I faked my
own 'good feeling' because I was still very innocent and had no clue what
he was talking about. Looking back, I guess my parents kinda dropped the
ball on my 'education' since I was 12, going on 13, at the time and had no
idea what jerking off or cumming was.

One night, I inadvertently brought myself to orgasm for the first time. It
was the weirdest and most profound thing that ever happened to me, up to
then. After that, I was hooked.

Louis and I began to touch each other. He loved to Jack me off because he
got to play with my 'big' tool.

One day, he put it in his mouth. At first, it freaked me out. Sure, it felt
good but I had no clue what he was doing. As you might imagine, I quickly
fell in love with it. Ironically enough, I would come to like sucking dick
more than getting sucked. I started sucking Louis. He never sucked me
again, though, not because I didn't want him to but rather because he
became greedy.

Not long after that, I got a call out-of-the-blue from Joe, saying that
Louis was spreading rumors about me. I was devastated because I knew what
Louis was saying was true.

I couldn't believe it. That someone would talk about sex like that;
Something so sacred between just he and I that was now public knowledge. I
guess it was just my innocence, again. Still, I felt so betrayed that I
never spoke to Louis again.

I began Catholic school in the fall.

*******

Here would be a good place to stop, for now. There is nothing worth
mentioning in my Catholic school year other than that I was miserable.

I returned to the town district for Freshman year.

*******

I'm putting myself out there and telling a true story for you. This is
actually bringing up some old wounds and a lot of reflection. If you want
to read more, please write to me and tell me so. I won't continue if others
aren't benifitting from it.