Did You Know...

...that we "gays" sexually abuse ourselves?

Not only that, but we are self-hating and self-destructive too! This is according to fellow blogger 'The Chaeronean'.

Here is an excerpt from his recent post:

I read a post by "Col" from Essex about being sexually abused.
In many ways all homosexual men are in a similar position to him, hiding from themselves and their sexuality because they cannot face up to what has happened to them.

And who has sexually abused them?

Answer: They have sexually abused themselves.

Apparently, this guy knows more about how I feel than I do... simply amazing!!

I'm neither hiding from myself, or my sexuality. Also, I faced up to what happened to me a long, long time ago. I published the experience, along with some advice, in the hope of helping somebody else, anybody else, that may have undergone a similar experience of "self-abuse"... as he calls it!

As for self-hating, self-loathing and self-destructive, well...It's just a load of BOLLOCKS!


Please read the post here and let me know what you think of the conclusion he has reached.


Take care,

Col

Sexually Abused! (Part Two)

So, after Peter and I showered that evening we joined the volunteers in the dining tent and listened to a guy play the guitar. If we knew the words to the songs we'd join in. It was great fun. Lol.

Bedtime soon came.
Dom, Peter and I were sharing a tent and Dom laid his sleeping bag out in the middle, so we had to sleep either side of him.
It was horrible getting undressed and into our pyjamas in front of Dom, and he wasn't exactly shy about getting undressed in front of us!

Anyway, I can't remember what time it was when I awoke, but I know it was early morning...around 6.00am(ish) because it was quite light.
So, I was laying on my left side (my favourite position) in my sleeping bag, having a wonderful sexy dream. I was being wanked off and it was fantastic, so realistic. It was slow and tender, not rushed.
The next thing I remember was hearing "Are you awake Col?" I thought I was still dreaming so I didn't answer. Lol.
Then I heard, right up close to my ear "Oh yes, he's awake!" and I fucking jumped out of my skin. It was Dom. He was on his side, his face so close to mine, and his right arm was still inside my sleeping bag...still wanking me off!!

It was obviously Peter who had asked if I was awake, having seen what Dom was doing.
I was confused and shocked, I didn't know what to say or do...shout at him? Cry? Turn over and pretend to be asleep? I didn't know!

It must have only been seconds later that I just pulled Dom's hand away and said something like "Yeah, I'm awake now!"
I got out of my bag, grabbed my clothes and trainers, said I was going to take a shower and left the tent, without looking at either of them. I was headed towards the showers when Peter ran up behind me, with his clothes in his hands, and asked me if I was alright. I knew I had tears in my eyes when I said I was okay but I managed to hold back the full flow.

He didn't say anything else and I was grateful for that. I didn't say anything to him either, we never spoke about it again, but I often wondered why was he awake so early? Had Dom "played" with him too?

Anyway, we headed to the showers and luckily Peter had thought to grab his toiletries bag and a towel. I hadn't, I'd just wanted to get out of the tent as quick as possible. Lol.
It was bloody cold that early in the morning, and it didn't help trying to dry myself on Peter's wet towel either, but I felt better already. I just used my finger and his toothpaste to clean my teeth because I didn't want to go back to the tent.

When I eventually plucked up the courage to face Dom again I said I wanted to sleep in the same tent as my brother Tom for the rest of the week. He would be arriving later that day. He didn't try to change my mind, maybe he felt guilty? Maybe he was afraid I would tell somebody about what he'd done? Again, I don't know!
Tom knew that something was wrong with me shortly after arriving, but I just told him I'd had a headache all day because I was tired.

I enjoyed the rest of the holiday very much, and made some good friends for a short time anyway.

When I returned home I did cry about it in private. I couldn't tell my parents, especially my dad. I thought, and felt, that people would think it was all my fault, that I couldn't have really been asleep and so I knew what was happening. That in turn made me feel guilty...maybe I did really know, but I was enjoying it and didn't want to admit it to myself! That made me feel really disgusted with myself. Maybe I gave Dom some signals which he just reacted to, so I deserved it?

I rarely even think about it now unless either of two things triggers the memory:

1...I hear the song "I Feel Love" by Donna Summer. I heard that song so much whilst on that holiday.

2...When people talk about Elvis dying. He died about a week after I got back home.


I would say this to anybody who has been abused, whether it's sexually, physically or mentally...

...talk to somebody, anybody, but do it! Don't feel guilty, you are the victim and the abuser deserves to be, and should be punished. There are freephone helplines and the Samaritans, if you want to remain anonymous...but speak out regardless, do not suffer in silence. You are not alone.

My "cyber" door is always open to anybody who wants to talk or email, and I know the same can be said for many of my fellow bloggers.

I've decided not to post any humour today. I don't think it would be appropriate, sorry!


Take care everyone!

Col

Sexually Abused! (Part One)

Hi guys,

Thanks to everybody who has been reading, commenting on, and following my blog. I'm really quite amazed at the response to the poll too, in terms of the amount of voters. I thought I'd be lucky to get ten in the fortnight. I was also amazed at the age range; I know that not all teenagers are crazy about sex, but will they read the more serious posts? I'll just have to wait and see I guess. Lol.

There are only nine days left on the polls, so please:

VOTE! vote! VOTE! vote! VOTE! vote! VOTE! vote! VOTE!

So on to today's topic...I have never, ever told this to anybody. The only people who know (unless they told others) are me, Peter, and the Dirty Old Man (Dom), and he's probably dead now anyway. I'll give you some background information so you know how I knew 'Dom', but I'll be as brief as I can (hehe, me and brief just doesn't work).

In 1977, when Peter and I were just thirteen years old, we decided to enter a talent competition at our local youth centre. If we won we would go to the next stage and compete at the local Theatre. Well, we won (yippee!). Then we won the next competition and was invited to do three acts in The Town Show. This was an annual event where the acts were mostly Cub Scouts, though I'd never heard of it, and one of the organisers was 'Dom'.

To cut a long story short; after the show he asked us if we would mind performing our acts in some old age pensioners homes, you know like community homes. Our parents agreed to this and so we saw quite a lot of him in the following months. My brother Tom would have to tag along too sometimes, my dad insisted, but after a while I didn't really mind.

Now 'Dom' was at least sixty-five, probably more by my reckoning, and had to walk with the aid of a stick because of an old war wound...seriously! But, his youngest child, a son, was only about seventeen. He gave me the creeps more than 'Dom' did, he looked evil with his thick, black, greasy hair and the beginnings of a moustache. The way he looked at me really scared me. Facially, he reminded me a bit of Hitler...but his eyes were just...EVIL!!!

It wasn't long before 'Dom' started to show some "affection". He would cuddle us, or try to anyway, it was gross. Then he started "play fighting" with us, but he couldn't really move around because of his leg, so he would just grab hold of you around the waist or chest instead. While he had you in his grasp his free hand would keep clenching on your leg, above the knee, and end up at your upper thigh. His grip on you was strong but his balance was another matter, so he never had a hold of you for long...thank fuck!

'Dom' also volunteered (well I doubt he was paid, but?) for an organisation that helped under-privileged children by arranging camping holidays for them. As Peter was from a one-parent family, and my family was piss-poor, he asked our parents if they wanted to apply for us (Tom included).

They were successful and the next thing I know we were off to Danbury. The only people to go on the first day and night would be the volunteers, Peter and I. This was because (allegedly) he wanted us to help out with cooking and organising the others when they arrived, so he needed to fill us in on H&S etc. Tom would be picked up and arrive with all the others the next afternoon.

I can't remember how many volunteers there were, but they were male and female and mixed ages. I do remember one of them (Steve) was really fucking sexy. He was 18-19, blonde crew-cut hair, muscular and very cute. Everybody, and I mean everybody, wanted to be in his tent!

Steve's cousin was there too. He was around 15-16, slim (but not skinny), blonde hair again but quite long and straight, blue eyes and a really gorgeous smile.

Now what did I say near the beginning about "me and brief just doesn't work"?

I know I shouldn't keep apologising about my post length (about 6.25" if you really want to know, hehe), but I just don't seem to be able to get to the point, quickly. Lol.

It may be because I like to know everything when I read something, so that's how I write too. I don't know so you'll have to put up with it I'm afraid.

In Part Two: The Dirty Deed...How I Felt About It Then...What I Feel Now.

Depending on the length, I may be able to fit in a joke or two also.

Thanks for reading!

Take good care of yourself,

Col