ErosWired

I’m going to differ with those who say bathhouses and sex clubs don’t count as public places. The first definition of public is simply Exposed to general view. If you drill down, you get things like of, by, or directed to the public, which begs the question, what is meant by the noun public? This gets you a group of people having common interests or characteristics; specifically : the group at which a particular activity or enterprise aims. The adjective also gets: accessible to or shared by all members of the community, but as above, community can simply be the subset community sharing common interests, and not the undifferentiated community of all people of a nation. Therefore, it seems to me that when a small gathering of Men watched me getting my cunt thoroughly bred last night at the bathhouse, and commented to one another about how perfect it looked and how I was being given it just the way someone like me ought to be given it, and didn’t everyone think it was like watching a porn shoot, a certain public was watching (and kibitzing) and I was being fucked in public. The door to my room was open to any passer-by. Once at camp, I was fucked on a picnic table in a play area in the woods just as it was getting dark. A total of 18 spectators stopped to watch me get fucked nearly insensible (I counted them to take my mind off the relentless assault on my cunt). There had been a party that evening and everyone had been given one of those fluorescent glow-bands that can be made into circular necklaces. All the men in the group gathered their necklaces together in a pile and set them on the picnic table next to my face so they could see my expressions while I took that voracious cock. The camp is a men’s-only gay campground, not open to the general public; but any member of the sizable community of attendees could have come by and watched, and contributed to my humiliation. Similar setting, same Top in fact, but different table and in daylight, a group of five men happen upon him doing me in the open and they all start exploring my body with their hands. Very completely. Like, every square inch plus some internal probing. They were a community of like-minded people who came upon something of interest in a (semi) open environment. Just because it wasn’t open to everyone on the planet doesn’t mean it wasn’t public. My former Master enjoyed doing demonstrations of BDSM techniques (specifically, tortures) at seminars and workshops for BDSM lifestyle practitioners. Guess who his favorite demonstration model was. On one occasion I was strapped to an actual medical gynecological chair - it was a very sophisticated medical play area - and hooked up with electrodes to my genitals and inside my ass so he could expound on why my body reacted in interesting ways when he shocked the fuck out of it. On another occasion, he chained me to a stool with a hole in the seat in which a 12” dildo could be driven upward into my ass by means of a remotely controlled mechanism while I was unable to resist the penetration*. In both cases, a mixed audience of men and women, all BDSM lifestylers, and all guests of this workshop, gathered closely around and observed me. One young man, who went by the moniker Devilspawn, was absolutely transfixed by the stool, and nothing would satisfy him until he had been allowed to try it out on me himself. He also got to try his hand at the electro controls. Those people were at a private gathering, but it was a (very) public viewing of practices that normally take place in privacy between individuals. In all of the above examples, the one thing they had in common was that each time I felt an acute sense of being exposed to the view of strangers while in an extraordinarily vulnerable state. It really doesn’t get much more vulnerable than having something forced into your body in front of an audience - or out of it - in the case of the electro, they whole crowd even watched me ejaculate under the influence of the electricity. In all those cases I was absolutely exposed to general view. *If you want to see this in action, it was inspired by a sequence in a video called, I think, ‘Storeroom Torture Trap‘[think before following links] https://thisvid.com/playlist/149162/video/storeroom-torture-trap/’. In his typical style, my Master made me build the one he used on me myself - he always made me construct the instruments of my own torture. God, he was brilliant. I named the stool The Vile Stool Belphegor, the demon of ingenious inventions.

‘Sides’…Wait, wouldn’t that make Tops ‘Fronts’ and bottoms ‘Backs’? I’m confused. And if you’re vers, are you sort of quater-turned?

So I’m lying on the hotel bed, naked (not ‘nude’, the hotel’s only 3-star with a 6.2 rating and there a leak in the ceiling), ass hoisted with two loads navigating their way past the S-bend into my descending colon, watching one of those ersatz cumdump ‘hypno’ vids to remind myself just how perfectly suited I am to being a service cunt for Men, and once again appreciate the way the Universe sometimes puts us in exactly the role we’re meant to fulfil. Suddenly: BooDOOP! A message on Grindr. It has been an unusually dead Friday night for Indy, so I hope for good things. I’ve changed my Grindr profile name to ‘TwoLoadsIn’ to head off the ‘how many loads’ inquiries, and have announced that I’m hotel hosting Tops, no one refused. As I always do, I add ‘+/U’ at the end. The message I receive reads: Gee, I wonder how you got HIV. He slut-shamed me with generous helping of HIV stigma, and threw in a ‘Gee’ as the cherry on top. My first reply was an opening salvo toward education, but his response made it clear that changing that heart and mind would be like clearing all the shit out of the Augean stables, and I wasn’t wearing my Hercules suit. Or a lion skin. Or, indeed, anything at all except a ball weight and a pair of white athletic socks. Anyone who’s tolerated my ranting about the Enemy Virus on this forum knows that I don’t miss many opportunities to tell people about some of the hard truths of living with this plague in our midst…but this time I was just tired. His arrogant, smug ignorance made it clear he was going to fight education tooth and nail. I told him I wasn’t going to waste any more time arguing with a moron, and blocked him. What made me madder than anything was that he took my mind completely out of cumdump subspace. And then the Top flaked. And then suddenly I find myself wondering if I’m really cut out for this.

But why choose that picture at all, if their sexual focus isn’t on their cock and they don’t want anyone touching it? In other topics lately guys have been discussing the fact that men seem less and less likely to actually read a profile and just react to the cover photo. Some don’t even bother to fill out a profile with anything except a string of “Ask Me”s, which immediately inspires me to do the opposite.

[gently] I have just examined five Sniffies profiles in a row, selected on the basis of the prominent cock pic chosen as the avatar - erect, penetration-ready phalluses that any Top would proudly use to signal that he is on the prowl. In each of these five cases, the headline that popped up when the profile appeared was some variation of “Looking to Suck”. 🤨 You who do this… Why? Is this just a twisted game the vers-who-are-really-bottoms play with each other to see who can fool who into Topping? Because with a total bottom like me, you’re just wasting your time-and mine-in getting me to look at you.

Exactly. You go to one of these people and say, “So, you wouldn’t let the Pope bless your child?” And they start to stammer. One might point out, though, in the case of some flavors of Catholicism in Central and South America, the imposition of the Christian faith over the top of indigenous beliefs did not always result in substitution so much as a grafting of one belief system onto another, with symbolism and iconography merging over time. In some cases, reverence of Mary takes the place of worship of deities that confer blessings of, for instance, fertility, and suddenly the line between reverence and worship becomes functionally blurred.

Or, more to the point, not Caucasian enough. And for some, it doesn’t take much ink to cause a stain. For that matter, there are some Protestant evangelical and fundamentalists types that will tell you Catholics aren’t Christians (!) because they worship Mary. For those people, legit Christians south of the border are thin on the ground.

But again, who came up with this left/right business, and what makes everyone so sure it’s universal? I have a double piercing in my left earlobe. I didn’t give any thought at the time to a significance to one side or the other, and my earrings don’t have sexual meaning for me anyway. But now I suppose people look at my earrings and assume this total bottom is a Top? Does a double earring mean a Total Top? Do the earrings mean I’m a pirate? Do I need to get a parrot? If you’re a Top, does it have to be a cockatoo? Which shoulder does it need to perch on? Is there a Parrot Plumage Code to signal kinks? Which side do I wear the eye patch on? What does it mean if I wear a red eye patch? Which leg should have the pegleg? There is, as you can see, no limit to how ridiculous this can get.

No one is born a psychopath, but the causes of psychopathy are believed to be a combination of genetics, brain structure, exposure to violence in early childhood, and environmental factors. Studies reveal distinct impairments in specific neurologic function associated with the asocial disinhibition, lack of empathy or remorse, and capacity for violence characteristic of psychopathy. Cultural conditioning is not cited as a primary factor, though the degree to which such an environment may lead to experience of trauma might contribute to other factors. A Man who claims that he enjoys physically harming other men sexually, has no regard for them as people, does not care in the slightest if they feel pain, and is not the least bit sorry for any of it, if he is being genuine, checks several boxes that are diagnostic for psychopathy. Such a person should be approached with caution, if at all. It bears pointing out, of course, that not all guys walk their talk, and not all such claims are genuine. Not all bullies are psychopaths. Not all assholes are bullies. And, a Top isn’t automatically an asshole because he takes pleasure in wrecking another guy’s cunt.

Even defining obscenity has always been a very wooly proposition that the Supreme Court has struggled with. The current definition relies on the three-part Miller Test, in which material is evaluated on: 1) whether the average person, applying contemporary community standards, would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest; (2) whether the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law; and (3) whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value. See? Wooly. “Average person”. “Contemporary community standards”. “Patently offensive”. “Serious…value”. Terms with no specific intrinsic meaning. Note also that item 2 doesn’t even nail down what “sexual conduct” is, leaving the term to the states to variously define, meaning that sexual conduct in Texas might not technically be sexual conduct in California. Then there’s the test in 3 of whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious artistic value. Says who? To some minds, Dawson’s 20-Load Weekend is a cinematic masterpiece and an icon of a genre. Others would call a compilation vid of 50 carefully curated close-up shots of cocks pumping loads deep into holes with the excess spurting out the sides sheer visual poetry. And then there’s the question of serious political value. Whoops! As soon as the damn thing gets litigated, its content becomes the core of a serious political question. If someone wrote a straight-up filthy obscene voyeur’s point-of-view story about a guy who watches Donald Trump have intercourse with Stormy Daniels, the piece would not in itself be politically relevant, having no political commentary or reference at all, just objectively offensive descriptions of sexual activity. It would only become politically relevant from the perspective of an individual viewer - or not. For some, it would be incendiary. For others, unremarkable, even funny. (The example may not be the best, as I’m not sure how anyone could write a story about Trump in coitus that wouldn’t be patently offensive to contemporary community standards anywhere on the planet.)

This is mostly the case for me as well, but I don’t even have to take a load to get the feeling. Once his cock penetrates me, I know that that Man has been inside me, and knows what I feel like inside - he now possesses the most intimate possible information about me, available exclusively to those who have invaded my body with their own, and very specifically their phallus, because that pleasure to be sensed from my body can be measured in no other way. A Man penetrates me, and I think, Now he knows what I feel like inside… and I know I can’t make him un-know that. He could always see me on the street and that intimate knowledge could run through his mind. There are Men on this forum who know what I feel like inside, maybe more than I’m aware of, and I need only think of their penetration to feel a wave of submission wash over me. Having invaded my inner country they are now its rightful sovereigns, to come and go as they will.

If not sociopathic, such mutually negative symbiotic pairings definitely exacerbate the maladaptive coping mechanisms of both parties. It’s partly this negative spiral that makes me wonder about the extent and motivation behind hole wrecking. Returning to your original premise, If a bottom says, and thinks, ‘I’m just a trashy fag whore’, and believes the negative things that implies about his worth, he sends a certain message. That message may be received by a Top predisposed to look for such self-worthless men for one of two reasons: A) He needs to devalue and control them to elevate his own low self-image; or B) He is psychopathic in nature and is simply exercising an impulse in which he is unable to feel compassion or sympathy for the what another person experiences, and may take pleasure in the sense of power and control he experiences by causing distress or pain in others. In the case of either A or B, finding a target that not only accepts but seems to welcome harsh treatment may tend to reduce any inhibition toward extremes of that treatment. Severe use may beget increasingly severe subsequent use, until there is no reason to hold back. We have essentially heard this scenario expressed, variously, in the course of this thread, so I don’t think it’s speculative. I don’t doubt that this is one motivation for ‘destroying holes’, and indeed I think it’s probably the more obvious. I keep getting drawn back to the first response, though, and its description of artistry, that puts its motivation in an entirely different class, and tells me that there is another state of the Top mind, predisposed to wanton ‘destruction’ of another man’s cunt, that comes from another, more elevated place.

This is tricky to take apart. Your premise is that they seek to devalue another because their own self-value is low, therefore they increase their self-value by comparison with those they devalue below it. But imagine that an Alpha Male has a strong self-image and self-value (whether merited or not) to which he fully subscribes, and draws from it a certain sense of superiority and entitlement. To him, he is not compensating for some inferiority; he simply is at the pinnacle of masculinity. To him, this worldview is confirmed and reinforced when he encounters males who submit to him, and the more completely they submit, the stronger the confirmation. It may become a positive reinforcement loop to dominate other men in increasingly forceful ways, each time more clearly demonstrating how wonderfully Alpha he is, how powerful, how entitled. He may, then, value these lesser males for their lesser value, and paradoxically may wish to degrade them further in order to increase their value as tokens to illustrate his greater value. This may begin to border on the sociopathic, taken to an extreme, but it does not necessarily stem from deep-seated low self-esteem or shame. To be honest, although I don’t acknowledge another man’s superiority over my intellect, or as a human being, I recognize other men’s sexual superiority over me as an aspect of our physical, masculine natures. There are times when I gain great fulfillment from watching a man use me in a degrading way, breeding me like an animal, calling me a whore, but seeing him glow with pride that he has been as male as he was made to be, and that the Universe has proven once again that he’s supposed to be on top. I don’t need to be on top. I’m fine in a heap on the ground with my cunt gaping, leaking his seed, because the Universe proved something to me, too, at the same time, that I belonged on the end of his cock, being used the way he used me. That’s not a sign of my low self-esteem either.

There is no notation in the thread that it was transferred from another thread, so the OP must have begun it here, whether intentionally or not. It would hardly be the first time someone started a topic here with no interest in health. In any event, given the subject, it’s just as well that it ended up here, so as to encourage discussion of the relevant hazards and allow men to make informed decisions about their sexual practices and assumed risk.

To be successful in advertising, make your product seem worth less than it is. Said no advertising textbook ever. Don’t show any skin till you get in the room. Said no successful pimp on the planet. You can’t deliver anything if you don’t get the guy in the room with you, and that is the entire point of the ad, unless you’re not actually looking for a physical encounter. But I’m not really asking the question in relation to looking for chat. If you’re just chatting, a guy’s actual performance skills are irrelevant. In fact, if you’re just chatting a guy up for mutual fappability, you’d probably want someone who makes big claims, as long as he’s convincing. I don’t chat - in fact, when I’m hosting, getting into a back-and-forth with someone almost always gets in the way of fielding fucking inquiries, so I try to avoid having to talk myself up individually. I’m looking to get down to friction with a minimum of nonsense, so I need to close the deal as quickly as possible. I need guys to know at a quick look-over that I’m real, that I put out as advertised, and that I’m worth their time. I don’t have the luxury of going at it lackluster - I’m a 56-year-old cumdump trying to attract cock in what is essentially a younger men’s arena. I don’t see how being coy gets you anywhere; I only wonder how much is too much.

Just to note above, that quoted section should have been attributed to @BootmanLA, not sure how it got tagged to me.

The founder of Mr S Leather claims to have invented the Hanky Code in 1972 in San Francisco. It certainly saw widespread use in the 1970s and 1980s, times when it was more necessary to keep a homosexual lifestyle concealed. Really, it could hardly be a modern invention - who carries a regular handkerchief in this day an age?

This is likely true, and thus potentially worrisome. They may not take their grievance-based political attitudes to the ballot box, but they’re not going away. Instead, they’ll see themselves as (yet again) deprived of a voice, downtrodden by elites, intellectuals, etc., except now they will have no outlet for their uncertainty, insecurity, fear, xenophobia and bigotry, so it will lie underground and fester. Which is exactly the vein of populist pus that Donald Trump found and tapped into. Until the gaping wealth disparity, educational, and other social inequalities in this nation are addressed, this unrest will continue, and probably worsen. And the chances of wealth inequality ever being meaningfully addressed in America are slim, because we are based on a fundamentally flawed national premise - that Capitalism is virtuous, and money is what matters in the end. If I could wave a wand and do one single thing to try to improve the nation’s fortunes at this stage, I would ban all money from politics, and see how radically the conversation changes.

I haven’t heard of a ‘free use cumdump’ symbol, but I think adopting the fee use symbol you’re referring to would be a brilliant notion as a tattoo on an ass. What else would it mean, in the context? The only downside would be a possible lack of general recognition outside BDSM circles. The other thing about adopting it as a tattoo is that it’s all very well to fantasize about wanting to be a constant target for direct sexual advances, but in actual practice, you’d want to think seriously about your preparedness to accommodate anyone at any time, or deal with the possibly negative consequences of rebuffing men who took your symbol at face value when you weren’t feeling it. For those unfamiliar, the ‘keyhole’ symbol being discussed is usually a circle with the shape of a simple traditional keyhole cut out of the center.

This kind of annoys me actually, because claiming that simply wearing a color must mean something is not the same as wearing a specific accessory in a color. The people who want to subscribe to the Red=Fisting notion would then rule out the color red as an option for everyone else, whether they happen to like red or not, simply to accommodate their fetish signaling. I can’t wear a yellow jock even if I happened to like yellow, because I’d end up attracting watersports enthusiasts, since they seem to assume that the code is universally accepted. I sort of feel tempted to go to a bathhouse wearing a bright red jock with white letters on it reading THIS JOCK IS NOT RED. I’m reminded of a thread I started a while back about boots, in which I was informed that I could not wear black boots with white laces because that had been adopted by some bunch of white supremacists as being theirs. Fuck that noise. No white supremacist is going to dictate anything to me, including the color of my bootlaces, and I refuse to legitimize them in any way by acknowledging that any style represents them. If it pleased me to wear white bootlaces, I’d by God wear them.

It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it? Now, see, I not only don’t find that off-putting, I find it believable. It doesn’t sound like bragging, just confidence to me.

If California is going this way as well, that’s a troubling sign. If every state starts implementing ID requirement laws like this, a VPN isn’t going to do much good if there’s nowhere to pretend to be from that isn’t controlled by such laws. It also makes me wonder how long it will be until someone tries to create a law holding companies providing Virtual Private Networks responsible foe ensuring that their systems ate not used to give minors access to pornography. If I were an anti-porn zealot, I would be looking at it.

One other point of interest: 2.4% of males suffer from some form of dichromatic colorblindness. To them, the colorful hanky code @pupHawaii posted above looks something like this:

Point. Of. Diminishing. Returns. Diversifying the hanky code to the point that A) You have to have a swatch book to tell the difference between color shades and B) It starts including materials/prints so odd that you can’t readily find them at a fabric store is a sign that you may be overtaxing the capacity of the system. Teddy bear? I don’t even know whether that means a teddy bear print cloth (which, good luck finding that special bolt of fabric) or an actual pocket-sized stuffed animal, in which case we’ve thrown the whole ‘hanky’ concept completely out the window. ’Holstein’? Is this supposed to be white with black cow spots, or print of holstein cows, because you can get both. Confusing. White vs. Cream. Yeah. That’ll be obvious in less than ideal lighting. Kelly Green vs. Hunter Green. Seriously, though. Impractical fabrics: Lamé? Doesn’t lend itself to being worn as a hanky. Ditto lace.

I would not be one bit surprised to see KY do something like this