The, fuck’em, dead


By which I mean the beatings my penis took by his overzealous hormone crazed master. I’m not

sure when I discovered that my penis could be used for more than just bathroom activities. If I

had to guess I would say eleven or twelve. I had never felt guilty about playing with myself until

I actually masturbated and sperm came from my dick. The guilt made me swear that I never do

it again. That next night I did it twice and I was still horny as hell. I am not if it was the

hormones or the masturbating itself but my dreams became increasingly sexual. For the better

part of two years my dreams were wholly of a sexual nature. I watch as much porn is I could of

course but I listened to Dr. Ruth Westheimer on the radio religiously also. I can recall this one

caller who was on to inquery about anal sex between him and his girlfriend. For the next three

months it was literally all I could think about. I had never seen porn showing that particular

sexual act and I just assumed only gay men did that. It would nearly ten years until I could work

up the nerve to ask to do that to a woman. It was worth the wait


I mentioned that my older brother was a drug addict right? At the time my mother refused to

see what her oldest boy really was. But my other brother and I knew what the fuck what was

going on with this nigga. Normally he would come over high and come down eventually around

us. I fucked hated that shit. Being asked the same question a hundred times got old quick.The

stumbling around knocking shit over. I don’t know if he had athlete’s foot or something kind of

nerological disorder but he would scratch at the top of his feet until they bleed. What really put

it over the top for me was the time he came in sober and launched off in the bathroom. I

thought he was bad before this was a whole new ball game. He went off on a tangent about

making sure you “Fuck’em with grease” At first I didn’t want to know what that meant but after

you hear something so many times you can’t help but get curious. Let’s just say drugs may loosen

some inhibitions you have to screwing the same sex. Again something I could have gone without

knowing my entire self.


My father died in Oct of 88′. My mother offered to pay my way to Tennesse but I told her I had

school to go and could not miss it. I was pretty much done with school at least in my head but I

could not fathom going to a funeral for a man I could hardly remember. I don’t go because he was a

bad man for leaving me before I was eight I just had no feelings for the man. I think my mother

was kind of proud I turned her down.