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Thread: Little Boy even at Nine.

  1. #1

    Default Little Boy even at Nine.

    A lot happened when I was nine. I had my last, major, surgery that year. Having been born with a heart defect, the doctors initially gave me 24 hours. That number slowly climbed, day by day, month by month, and ultimately to where I am, now. Being left in that sterile environment by my parents made feel unwanted, alone and sad. In ICU, family was permitted only thirty-minute visitations a day, back then. Mom had said, later in life, that she hated the look I gave her when ever she had to admit me into the hospital.

    At nine, I felt truly alone. I don't think I've ever been able to shake that off.

    Also by nine, I began fantasizing, sensually, without understanding what I was dreaming up. At that young age I fantasized silly things (like people with big noses sticking them between my butt cheeks) and things well beyond my years, thanks to my crash course in anatomy and medical procedures in the weeks spent hospitalized. By the time I went back to school I was able to draw an anatomical correct (though not medically accurate) heart. Too bad I hadn't learned basic division, too. I failed math consistently until my sophomore year in high school.

    Some fantasies I was able to enact on a few unsuspecting friends, boys and girls, simply by playing those favorite of games, "House" and "Doctor." I preferred being the patient, clothes off (pants down at least) a stick thermometer and a pine cone shot. The neighbor girls and I played house. I insisted on being the "little boy" (remember, we were all in our 'nines') and they'd be my Mommies (Two Mommies! At nine!).

    Even now I fantasize an intricate relationship with a "Mommy" figure. Of course, since nine, my "Mommy" took on a more sexual role. Oftentimes, I dreamt of a Grandma, Aunt, or an older adult "just down the street." I once visited (harassed?) a young lady on the other side of the block for weeks. I'd ask if I could come in to her home, stay the night, a hug and a kiss. She eventually went to my parents. I lost my "Mommy." This might have been at seven or eight, though. Doubtful if it was older than nine.

    Over the years, as my knowledge of sexuality, kink, and sexual perversion grew, I came to form a detailed idea of "Mommy." "Mommy" fills more roles than just the maternal one: Teacher, Coach, Priestess, Liberator as well as Mommy. Oh, how I would love to meet "Mommy!" I wrote a cryptic poem about her in my blog.

    Real tears well up in my eyes when I acknowledge my real age and the prospects of losing "Mommy" forever.

  2. #2


    Wow, I'm sorry about the circumstances of your early childhood. That is pretty wild though that you had some innocent fun times with your lady friends. I had a puppy love crush when I was a kid, and then we moved, I was really upset about leaving her. I eventually tried to see if I could find her online, but it didn't show many results. It would be nice if we could all be actually young again and just not know any better, but I guess the healthy approach is to acknowledge where we are in life and make the best of it.

  3. #3


    That's what childhood is about, when I was 12 and learning about sex and masturbation, I kept looking up porn on YouTube not knowing what it was, I feel ashamed about it a bit now but I had no idea what I was watching but I kept thinking, do I have to do this?

    Thankfully nobody knew what I was wtaching

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