ErosWired

The difficulty you’re having is that what you want requires the other man to also be depraved, and men who are depraved enough to actually act on their depravity are (fortunately) rare. To be fair, using you as a cumdump - a sexual object - is pretty far down that rabbit hole as it is; expecting every man who does it to take it to the extreme is not realistic. You would be better off going to a site where fetishists congregate, like Recon, and try your luck there where the population of men of such mind is more concentrated.

It’s true that the bottom has a responsibility to safeguard his own health. Some Tops, however, take this argument and use it to support a claim that Tops have no responsibility to ensure that they are not disease vectors. The reality is that both have a responsibility toward each other, as well as themselves.

That doesn’t necessarily follow. A Top can take pleasure in anal stimulation without experiencing a desire for another cock to penetrate him, let alone to be inseminated. Pleasure from anal stimulation is hard-wired into all humans irrespective of age or gender, and penetrative anal intercourse is only one form of anal stimulation. You may have simply discovered that it feels good, and if you try bottoming you may discover that you don’t like it; that doesn’t mean your liking of the stimulation is invalid, it would just mean you’re not a bottom.

I agree, except I wonder about the specific idea of the “implanted” female instinct, which implies that it is imposed from outside. I can readily understand the psychology by which rape, sexual assault or molestation, especially of a person still in the formative stages, might generate a set of demasculinized traits. I, however, suffered no such abuse that could account for my powerful and compelling drive to be cunted. I can’t explain it - and I have spent many hours in contemplation on it - and I can only conclude that the trait is, in my case at least, more nature than nurture. That would suggest that some such men are, in fact, born, not made, and that there is some legitimacy to the concept of the existence of beings that we consider, for lack of a better term, faggots. One might argue that my six years of experimental training under a Sadist Dominant could be considered to constitute the form of sexual trauma that may result in the traits in question, but even though the result was that I became the committed service cumdump I am, it did not begin with him - he simply identified the unrefined potential within me and refined it to an extreme purity. He didn’t turn me into a cumdump; he just showed me my purpose.

They’re different. I prefer The Works because their rooms are better laid out and they have a more mixed, laid-back clientele, less pretty-boy posing. Club Indy does, however, have pool facilities that The Works lacks.

I should add that what really cheesed me about the mob fucking in front of my door wasn’t the fact that none of them were fucking me - it was the fact that the play space with the fuck bench on the other side of the partition from them was empty. The walls enclosing the space on two sides are glory holes, for fuck’s sake. The whole thing smacked of a lack of imagination.

All I can say so far is… Insanity. I am on the Red Line coming back from Steamworks (more on that in a moment) a bit after 11:00pm on Thursday, and at this writing there are 32 Quick Connect ads on BBRTS. Thirty-two. I took five loads lsst night - none of them from IML attendees. I had to go down and escort three of them up to the room. Steamworks, for my first visit, was a disappointment. I left an hour early before my time expired. By my count, I was penetrated (if you can call three of the limp noodle stuffings penetrations) 12 times. Only three of them were legitimate fuckings. I only brought three Tops to climax, and one of those was solely with the handjob he requested. I got room 117, which lay immediately adjacent to a fuck bench alcove, but right outside my door was also a long bench that was used by the roomless to congregate. On at least three occasions I was ass-up on my bed only to discover two guys fucking right full in front of my doorway. The last time, so many guys had congregated there that I literally could not get out my door. I had to raise my voice and ask them to please clear space so I could exit. They did this grudgingly. Utter rudeness. I did avail myself of the fuck bench, which accounted for most of my action; the sling, nada, the steam room, not so much as a grope. And the mirrors - dear God, the place is like a House of Mirrors at a circus. I nearly collided with a wall a half dozen times. All in all, it seems like a place best visited with friends, and not really suited to the isolated individual. Frankly, I like The Works Indianapolis better even if it is - and perhaps because it is - a smaller facility.

That would be about right - an average 5cc load = .0013208 gallons x 1,000 = 1.3208 gallons. The only thing is, the human colon can only hold about a gallon of fluid by volume, so that extra third of a gallon must have ended up slopping out onto the floor on the outstroke.

Unbelievable. There are currently 101 parties scheduled in Chicago for this weekend on BBRTS, and at least half of them appear to be lone cumdumps attempting to set up mass breedings for themselves. One of them has over 80 registered to attend. This reminds me of the small towns where I live that are barely big enough for a stoplight yet have five churches - there’s a disconnect between supply and demand.

Very good question. I think a lot about this, and I’m never sure I come up with a full understanding of what motivates me this way, but what I am sure of is that it’s a complicated mix of biological and psychological factors. To start with, it feels pleasurable for things to stimulate the anus. This is by natural design - if it were unpleasant to stimulate the anus, we would avoid pooping, and that would be bad. In nature, some mother animals will lick the anuses of their young to prompt the first defecations. So it’s not surprising that we like buttsex from an anal perspective. ASecond, semen contains chemicals that stimulate the pleasure/reward systems in the body and brain, and when we take a dose up the ass we absorb a certain amount of it through the colon. Again, there’s a biological explanation. The degree t which these chemical elements act upon the brain to result in a craving for them is an open question suggesting linkage to addictive processes, and I haven’t seen any science on that. The thinking gets fuzzier and less certain when I try to parse why I feel such a powerful urge to submit to another male’s use of my body as a sexual utility. I’m not in it for the cum, though I obviously feel the same effects from the semen as everyone else. Why do I feel pleasure when another man dominates me? Why is the thrill of penetration so profound? For me, the fucking is more important than the load, because each sensation of my flesh being forced to take his invasion underscores what appears to ba a very primal truth - that I am by nature a thing to be fucked and inseminated. The question that leaves, though, is why? Why am I, as a biological male, so driven by a defining female function? I was just fucked about an hour ago by one of the very best cocks of my acquaintance, and bred with that man’s seed. I savored every moment of it - not so much for the physical pleasure it gave me, but the pleasure using me gave him. Perhaps I’m not supposed to think about it any harder, to try to find a complex answer to a simple quandary. Perhaps I’m just supposed to shut up and take the damn cock because that’s what I’m for.

Well, it’s here, and I’m here, and the whole thing gets underway in the morning. Lots of men in black clothing and leather of various sorts checking in to the hotel. I arrived late in the afternoon to give myself time to settle into the room and go out and secure a subway/rail pass to last the week. I spent the last week making myself a brand-new full-body harness that, I have no doubt, will turn a head or two, but whether or not in an approving way remains to be seen. Still, as Oscar Wilde said, the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about. If any of you guys are going to be here, please feel free to say hi - I’ll always have on a solid chrome collar and cuffs when not in harness, and when in harness, the harness is likely to stand out - it’s white with a strapless jock, thigh harness, and silver bucklers that read “Dedicated To Public Service”. I don’t know a soul here, so I’ll be glad to talk to anybody. And if you happen to be a Top… well, I’m Dedicated To Public Service. 🙂

From my own experience with anal fissure, a fissure would render a man unfuckable. They’re absolutely bring-a-grown-man-to-sobs excruciatingly painful letting something out as gently as you can, never mind forcing something in. Mine required surgery to resolve.

In a word, yes. Everything you describe signals inexperience on the bottom’s part, if we’re looking for an excuse for him. Otherwise he was the one in the position to set the stage for a successful encounter - and a Top’s satisfaction - and failed to do so. It’s conceivable that he had no lube because he had some fantasy if being dry-fucked, but if so he hardly had grounds to complain of soreness. As to the bleeding, don’t concern yourself that you caused it through something you shouldn’t have done - the rectum is not designed to take objects inserted into it, and some sort of lubrication is essential to prevent at least superficial damage. By having none available, the bottom was practically inviting you to bleed him. I am always keenly aware of what someone has playing in the background, whether audio or video, when I engage with him. It speaks volumes about his headspace for the scene. If I show up to service a large black Top and he’s playing interracial porn in which a large black Dominant is destroying a smaller white guy I pretty much know what I’m in for. If he’s playing Marvin Gaye I can expect things to be a bit more mellow. If he’s watching the Home Shopping Network I just sigh and get it over with. A tacky British soap opera would be an instant red flag as far as I’m concerned, and I love British programming.

I don’t dispute that. But what you said above, and what I quoted, is that the situation should be considered serious because of what we don’t know, not because of what authorities do know. Amplifying concern in a vacuum of information is alarmist, by definition. But as you seem to have changed the parameters of your claim by your reply to me, the matter is moot. There is also, however, the question of the rather nebulous use of the term “serious”, which could mean any number of things depending on context, but absent context tends to be viewed in its most sensational aspect. A deputy director of the CDC was cited yesterday as saying that at these case counts there’s not a huge risk to the general community. So how serious is serious? This isn’t the first Monkeypox outbreak in the United States - the first was in 2003, and tallied a total of 47 cases. How serious is 47 in a population of 329,000,000? The disease itself is self-limiting, with symptoms usually resolving in 2-4 weeks. There is a risk of severe cases with resulting fatality, which is certainly serious by any measure, but the risk is small, and transmission rates are not high. The re-emergence of Monkeypox in Nigeria over the last five years has resulted in approximately eight (8) confirmed infections internationally. How serious is that on a planet of 8,000,000,000 people? What, indeed, is the purpose of sounding a blaring alarm at this stage? What, exactly, are we to do? The CDC guidance says to be in the lookout for symptoms of it. That’s it. They’re specifically not recommending that Pride festivities be canceled or that anyone not go to them unless they feel sick. If we are to take our cue from the Centers for Disease Control, it would appear that, by their metric, the sky is not falling. Incidentally, from a purely rhetorical standpoint, you have no way of knowing how much “random commentators on the internet” may know about this or any subject such that you can reliably draw any conclusion whatsoever in that regard. That is not a sustainable point of debate. Your point is only valid inasmuch as it draws upon the authority of any person who knows more than you do - which we infer you to mean the specialists in leading public health departments. Certainly this is persuasive, but for all you or I know one of our “random commentators” here could be a leading specialist in epidemiology who happens to fuck bareback.

That’s the definition of alarmist.

Unlike COVID, Monkeypox is not a new, unknown disease that has just appeared and nothing is known about what it does or how to treat it. Unlike COVID, vaccine regimes that can effectively manage an outbreak of this illness are already researched, approved and stockpiled - and indeed according to latest news are being made available now to treat affected communities. This isn’t going to explode like COVID. We’re all shell-shocked and gun-shy now over diseases, especially anything that comes in from abroad. But put things in perspective. As I write this there is one confirmed case of Monkeypox in the United States, and six presumptive cases. Seven cases. When in trouble, or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout. Monkeypox is not, by the way, an STD. It is a contact infection. You don’t have to be having sex to get it, but it isn’t all that easy to get regardless. The reason sexy people seem to be turning up with it ought to be obvious - intimate behavior requires sustained physical contact, which automatically increases the time/opportunity the pathogen has to transfer to a new host. Everyone stay calm. Also, avoid fucking any monkeys.

When taking a cock of that size, especially for the first time, I recommend that you be the one on top, and lower yourself down onto him. This accomplishes two things: 1. It naturally aligns your inner channels so that they are not compressed or in any sort of bend that would present an obstacle to entry; and 2. It leaves you in control of the speed of the penetration, allowing you time to adapt. There was a man with an 11” cock that had me a couple of times a few years ago and we always started this way. Once I had taken him into me from a riding position he would then flip me over on my belly and take me from behind in a single balls-deep thrust, and I never had any trouble accepting him. By contrast, around the same time I had an opportunity to be fucked by a man sporting 10”, who wanted to take me missionary, and I had trouble with him from the get-go.

This is a good question. I never understand the reason the Top is asking. It’s similar to being asked how many loads I have in me - I don’t know whether he wants me to have loads in me or not. Dies asking me when I was last fucked mean he wants me unfucked or freshly fucked? It always feels like a coin toss - I only have a 50-50 chance of getting the right answer, and no clue which one might be preferred.

Here’s an ancillary question to this topic - what do you think when you see a man wearing a collar? A collar is a symbol of submission, of servitude, an acknowledgment of a disparity in the level of power between one man and another. While undoubtedly there are those who may put on a collar simply as a form of play or even (one cringes) as a ‘fashion’ accessory, there are others for whom the collar represents something very real and palpable. A Dominant male does not wear a collar. He may collar the male he breeds as an expression of control, but would never suffer himself to wear one. I have worn the collar of another man, but for the most part I have collared myself, and wear one as a symbol of my service position to other men. Even those who don’t consider there to be any hierarchy among males must have some view of what a collar on a man means - it isn’t meaningless, and it can’t be brushed off as just play or roleplay, because for some men, it’s not play. It’s a commitment, an acknowledgment, and an acceptance. So what do you think of a man in a collar?

Whenever I hear the term ‘twink’ I can’t help associating them with those Hostess Twinkies cakes - because they’re slim, blond, and full of white cream.

Moreover, a urologist is a specialist, and the patient in question isn’t going to be seeing one without a referral from a general physician or clinic who would therefore already be aware of the unusual condition in a minor. If you are, say nine years old, you wouldn’t go to a sexual health center to get tested because A) You don’t have the means to transport yourself, B) You aren’t aware of how the adult world works to the degree that you understand that there are specialized facilities dedicated to the treatment of issues related to adult human sexual function. At 9 years old, even if you have been the unfortunate victim of sexual abuse, the whole concept of adult sexuality is probably still a murky and uncertain subject at best, if not baffling and/or terrifying. I would advise caution in going any farther with that line of thought here - the site management’s tolerance for discussion of underage scenarios appears to be (justifiably) limited to a person mentioning that something happened to him at an early age, without any glorifying lurid detail. Talking about how ‘hot’ an encounter might be as/with a minor may be flirting with an infraction. The whole question is so improbable it almost seems like a pretext just for an opportunity to say how hot you think it would be.

The Works Indianapolis is reopened under new management. Mostly the same except no longer open 24/7 - only open 24 hours on Fridays snd Saturdays now I believe.

For the vast majority of human history, human cultures engaged in all sorts of things we don’t do now - human sacrifice and institutionalized slavery come to mind - and we call the fact that we don’t do them anymore progress. My paternal grandmother married my grandfather at 14. She was too young. Yes, they set up a household and raised two children. It was dysfunctional and unhappy, with repercussions that have echoed down generations. I agree that young adults today are lamentably immature. I tried to provide my own two with the tools and independence they needed to get ahead when they moved on, and it wasn’t easy. The school systems don’t help much, either. I wasn’t entirely successful - my son crashed and burned on his first attempt at college, took a year out, then returned and so far has a 3.9 in a double major, at the top of his class. I agree that once the young person sets sail into the world the parent needs to step back and not interfere, to let the mistakes happen so that growth occurs. It’s extremely difficult to watch. But as a parent, you can’t help watching. And caring. No, once a person is 18, no one, including their parents, should have any business with who they choose to have intimate relations with. But that’s not going to stop them if they perceive a clear and present danger to their loved one - a protective instinct is likely to trump an abstract notion of autonomy, whether it’s appropriate or not. The 18-year-old then has the opportunity to exert his independence and tell them to fuck off, hopefully establishing a healthy boundary. I don’t interfere with or question my children’s choices in relationships (even though I could see that my son’s first was going to be a train wreck months before it happened). But I’ll stop watching over them when I’m dead. That matters, because in our family, what someone does to one of us, he does to all of us. And if he brings one if us to harm, he has us all to contend with. What can I say, we’re from Appalachia. Issues like the one in this thread are complicated here. Very.

Nonsense. ‘Typically’ 5 guys at once from Grindr? Typically, one can expect 5 flakes at once from Grindr. What you’re describing is so contrary to the experience that everyone on this forum routinely reports that you’re not making your case any more convincing. You also say it’s not uncommon to find groups in [practically every town of any size in Alabama]. If Alabama was a hotbed of group sex, the men on this forum would be aware of it. It isn’t a sexcation destination. I don’t doubt that you’ve had some group action - I’ve stayed at the Cheshire Inn myself - but at this point the best I can give you credit for is making some broad and generally incorrect assumptions about the reality of hookup culture on the basis of a few experiences. Even if what you’re saying is actually somehow bizarrely true for you, it’s not what the rest of us experience.

I’m talking about after the fact, when this man has been confronted with his actions by the young person’s family and/or other concerned people in the community when their trysting comes to light. This is not a case of ‘a couple of guys’ having a chat, as you would have it - his intention is to deflower a boy - yes, Sir, a boy, a 16-year-old is not a man, age-of-consent be damned, and the two males are not equals in this scenario. In the situation as described, under these circumstances, in this locale, the man’s actions will come to light. When this shit hits the fan, suddenly people will remember that they saw this man alone with the young person at that public place. They may not have thought anything amiss at the time, but now they ask: What business did he have with that young man in the first place that he should be meeting with him in such a way? And what, pray, would be the man’s plausible explanation that anyone would believe at that point? Your claim that they were ‘just having a chat’ is disingenuous. He hasn’t got a snowball’s chance in Hell of talking his way out of it, because there was not, in fact, anything innocent about what he was doing. If he wasn’t trying to seduce the boy, he would have had no rationale for meeting him. I stand by my assertions. I cannot recommend it.