How far have you cum?

[loadzgoinholes]

What is a kink, or fetish, or other "thing" that you now enjoy that you thought you'd never get into?

[11bi11guy]

I never thought I'd be into piss play. I still haven't done it with anyone else, but I've started very occasionally drinking my own while I'm watching porn, hitting poppers, and pounding my hole.

I don't know if I'll get into it with guys--I mostly hook up anonymously at the bathhouse or bookstores, and I'm kind of afraid of the effects of drinking another guy's unknown waste products from medication, drugs, etc. Especially since I take a good amount of medication myself and I'm not sure of the contraindications. I'll probably start with my girlfriend.

[PigBoyDallas]

Anonymous sex. The idea of getting with a total stranger freaked me out. I started out with buds, expanded to guys in the neighborhood I knew, brothers of buds. One of the neighborhood guys had a bud join once...was my first three way. Was kind of weird getting so intimate with a guy I didn't even know. But he was so hot I was down. The neighborhood guy enjoyed seeing me getting drilled by other guys and started lining up others to fuck me. I started to enjoy the newness of the guys, exploring their bodies, finding out what their cock was like, their technique fucking me and what they were like getting fucked. Around the same time, I got hit on at the gym by a white kid and we wound up doing it in the shower there. I had no idea guys did that and then started to be on the lookout for that kind of thing. 

[ErosWired]

Apologies in advance to the OP if this reply isn’t as salacious as you were hoping for, but you made me think.

I’m intrigued by the way this question is posed: “How far have you come?” The OP is asking in the context of sexual acts or experiences, but in that context, he could have - but did not - phrase it as “How far have you gone?”

The latter sounds like the same question, but subtly isn’t. “How far have you come” suggests a journey or destination or goal toward which one strives or aspires. “How far have you gone” suggests a path down which one might or might not want to have traveled, a destination away, not toward. Unlike the first phrasing, “How far have you gone can be transposed into a related question of potential significance: “How far gone are you?”

When I think about my own answer to the OP, I can’t help thinking more in “gone” terms. I started as a straight-laced, straight-arrow, starched-shirt guy who tried to act on the most scrupulous principles in every situation (at my wedding my two oldest friends danced a circle around me to the song ‘Goody Two-Shoes’). When the effort to maintain the perfect person became too much, I broke down and allowed myself a moment of exploration into homosexuality.

Since that first fuck, I’ve gone down the Rabbit Hole so. fucking. far. My body and mind have been used by men for dark, depraved acts to sate their lusts, and I have let them in spite of the pain, humiliation, and sense that with each sordid act I was going further down a one-way path from which there could be no return.

And there can’t be. Once upon a time, I was a ‘good’ boy, pure and uncorrupted; now, I’ve been cunted over a thousand times and filled with the essence and seed of other men (nearly a gallon and a half of it in total, if you add it all up) and some component of it has absorbed into my flesh and become a part of me.

But more than that, my mind has been altered, or perhaps - and this may be worse - my most base potential has come to be realized. I discovered, accepted, and embraced my role as a sexual object. An object - a thing - a utility with an intended use, a thing over which men could feel a sense of control, power, possession, ownership.

How far have I gone? There is a man who lives half an hour’s drive from me who has in his possession a Deed, in his name, that grants him ownership of my body and my sex, to summon and to enjoy, to share and distribute, and to use in any way that pleases him. And I honor that Deed as though it were the Deed to my house or the Title to my car, because that’s how far gone I am. He texted me last night to say “I can’t wait to get a hold of that ass again.” Not “get a hold of you” - “get a hold of that ass”. Because I am an object for him. (Which is as it should be; he’s happily partnered, and they have an open relationship. I’m just his favorite fuck toy, one he actually owns. “Best piece of paper I ever had,” he says.)

I have a number assigned to me on The Slave Registry, 730-219-854. I’ve been thinking about getting it tattooed onto my ass, because I consider it as much a part of my permanent identity as my Social Security Number.

A few years ago, I registered myself with XTube - signed agreement, the works, so I could post video of myself for sale and maybe perform on cam. I posted a handful of videos, so I guess I could say I briefly stuck my toe into the amateur porn industry. That’s how far gone I was in that direction; the demise of XTube has ended that potential of course.

But perhaps the farthest I’ve gone from where I started, the most permanent and radical change I never saw coming, came in August 2014, when, out of the blue, I was diagnosed with full- blown AIDS, with fungal meningitis and CD4 count of 49. Within two weeks I was literally within heartbeats of being gone completely.

I don’t know why I’ve survived 7 1/2 years. It’s taken that long to recover just to the point where I am now. Some would say, “Look how far you’ve come.” But I’ll never get back everything I lost to AIDS, never be the same person I was. Maybe that’s a good thing. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

In fact, everything we experience, for good or bad, adds to who we are. We can only ever become more, never less. So I guess that since life is only an additive process, I really should think of it in terms of how far I’ve come - even if I have no idea where I’m going.

[theplayerking]

PrEP is the only part of my sex life that has changed appreciably. I’ve always been interested is anonymous hookups and group sex. Now I can do it raw. 

[loadzgoinholes]

On 3/28/2022 at 11:30 AM, ErosWired said:

Apologies in advance to the OP if this reply isn’t as salacious as you were hoping for, but you made me think.

I’m intrigued by the way this question is posed: “How far have you come?” The OP is asking in the context of sexual acts or experiences, but in that context, he could have - but did not - phrase it as “How far have you gone?”

The latter sounds like the same question, but subtly isn’t. “How far have you come” suggests a journey or destination or goal toward which one strives or aspires. “How far have you gone” suggests a path down which one might or might not want to have traveled, a destination away, not toward. Unlike the first phrasing, “How far have you gone can be transposed into a related question of potential significance: “How far gone are you?”

When I think about my own answer to the OP, I can’t help thinking more in “gone” terms. I started as a straight-laced, straight-arrow, starched-shirt guy who tried to act on the most scrupulous principles in every situation (at my wedding my two oldest friends danced a circle around me to the song ‘Goody Two-Shoes’). When the effort to maintain the perfect person became too much, I broke down and allowed myself a moment of exploration into homosexuality.

Since that first fuck, I’ve gone down the Rabbit Hole so. fucking. far. My body and mind have been used by men for dark, depraved acts to sate their lusts, and I have let them in spite of the pain, humiliation, and sense that with each sordid act I was going further down a one-way path from which there could be no return.

And there can’t be. Once upon a time, I was a ‘good’ boy, pure and uncorrupted; now, I’ve been cunted over a thousand times and filled with the essence and seed of other men (nearly a gallon and a half of it in total, if you add it all up) and some component of it has absorbed into my flesh and become a part of me.

But more than that, my mind has been altered, or perhaps - and this may be worse - my most base potential has come to be realized. I discovered, accepted, and embraced my role as a sexual object. An object - a thing - a utility with an intended use, a thing over which men could feel a sense of control, power, possession, ownership.

How far have I gone? There is a man who lives half an hour’s drive from me who has in his possession a Deed, in his name, that grants him ownership of my body and my sex, to summon and to enjoy, to share and distribute, and to use in any way that pleases him. And I honor that Deed as though it were the Deed to my house or the Title to my car, because that’s how far gone I am. He texted me last night to say “I can’t wait to get a hold of that ass again.” Not “get a hold of you” - “get a hold of that ass”. Because I am an object for him. (Which is as it should be; he’s happily partnered, and they have an open relationship. I’m just his favorite fuck toy, one he actually owns. “Best piece of paper I ever had,” he says.)

I have a number assigned to me on The Slave Registry, 730-219-854. I’ve been thinking about getting it tattooed onto my ass, because I consider it as much a part of my permanent identity as my Social Security Number.

A few years ago, I registered myself with XTube - signed agreement, the works, so I could post video of myself for sale and maybe perform on cam. I posted a handful of videos, so I guess I could say I briefly stuck my toe into the amateur porn industry. That’s how far gone I was in that direction; the demise of XTube has ended that potential of course.

But perhaps the farthest I’ve gone from where I started, the most permanent and radical change I never saw coming, came in August 2014, when, out of the blue, I was diagnosed with full- blown AIDS, with fungal meningitis and CD4 count of 49. Within two weeks I was literally within heartbeats of being gone completely.

I don’t know why I’ve survived 7 1/2 years. It’s taken that long to recover just to the point where I am now. Some would say, “Look how far you’ve come.” But I’ll never get back everything I lost to AIDS, never be the same person I was. Maybe that’s a good thing. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

In fact, everything we experience, for good or bad, adds to who we are. We can only ever become more, never less. So I guess that since life is only an additive process, I really should think of it in terms of how far I’ve come - even if I have no idea where I’m going.

I appreciate the depth with which you responded. And, perhaps I wasn't as exact as I might have been in posing the question. I'll give a "for instance" on my part to help clarify. I'm into fairly rough sex (as a top). When I first began my journey in coming out and just getting around and enjoying casual encounters, I was always of the mind that sex was this gentle, perhaps passionate thing - but rough, hard, brutal was just never something I'd be into. But that changed, and rather quickly one day. I was watching some porn, and saw a totally new guy I'd never seen before. My first and immediate reaction was thinking "Wow, I'd love to slap him around if I had the chance." He just evoked that response in me, and the video itself was very basic suck and fuck. In other words, I shocked myself in thinking that. But from there, I explored and found myself very into the more aggressive and rough sex I thought I'd never be wanting.