How did I know I was a faggot? It is hard to say what my first hint was. When we played "doctors and nurses" as kids I was very keen to operate on the boys. But perhaps I should have taken notice that as I went into high school I could never pee in front of other boys. I felt frozen in fear and would go into a cubicle and sit down to pee. Watching other boys come and go through the crack in the door made me horny especially when a boy I had a crush on, called Tom came in to pee. It started a lifelong love affair with public toilets. Something queer was going on for me - very queer.
As I progressed through my teens I more and more ventured out to public toilets and parks to find cock. I didn't care if the man was young, old, fat or thin as long as he had a cock. The sight of a cock made me tremble slightly and gave me a faggy aching feeling through my body. I knew I was gay but I did try dating a couple of girls, but had to give in - I couldn't get hard without thinking about big cocks and men's butts.
Fairly often I went home with men I met in toilets. Sometimes I fucked them, sometimes they fucked me and sometimes we looked at porn or played with toys. One time the guy I met had a kind of dungeon with a sling and leather gear and toys and porn - it really galvanized my attention. Trembling I lay in the sling with my ankles restrained and my asshole exposed and helpless. He was mid-50s, barrel chested and had the thickest cock I have ever seen tightly held in a cock ring. He told me that it had got that thick from years of "working on it". Needless to say he worked over my hole with toys and fucked me and it all felt delicious.
Soon after this encounter I met a really queer guy in a park. There was something real perverted about him. On the way in his car he gave me gay porn to look at and his car reeked of a kind of perfume. At his place he gave me a drink - soon after the room began to spin and I passed out. When I awoke I was face down naked on the bed and he was probing my hole with a metal hook. I pulled away and felt my hole which had cum oozing from it and was sore - I had obviously been drugged and raped. The thought made me very horny.
I got up and wandered out to find the toilet and there were three more men in the kitchen not wearing very much. They all smiled at me and I realized that I had been gang raped. The thought made me rock hard. When I came back into the kitchen I knelt before one of the men who was kind of stocky but smooth and took his cock in my mouth. One by one the men took me in my mouth and then my boyhole. I had cum dripping from my hole and all over my face - I was in heaven.
When I left I headed straight for a toilet that always had action. There was a hairy bear type guy in overalls hanging around with a stumpy thick cock and he fucked me and filled me with more cum. It was about 4am at this stage with no one else around so I headed home across the park feeling happy and fulfilled.
My social life became an endless round of public toilets, saunas and back rooms. In the mid 20s I got into drugs and would often go out all weekend on ecstasy and speed going from toilet to toilet to sauna. One night I was sitting naked in a toilet cubicle completely off my face on ecstasy (I had left my clothes in the cubicle next door for some reason) when a bunch of young guys suddenly appeared in the toilet. One of them looked over the top at me and said, "Hey, look guys there's a little faggot in here."
They kicked in the door of the cubicle and dragged me out and beat me up pretty badly. They kneed me in the balls, broke a rib and gave me a black eye all the time called me a faggot bitch etc. They also stole my phone and wallet. I dragged myself home and stood in front of the mirror and looked at my bruises. The more I thought about them calling me a faggot the hornier I got and the more I touched my bruises the hornier I got.
or "They are right," I thought, "I am a little faggot bitch and I love it." My only regret is that they hadn't gang raped me. It would have made a perfect evening.
Despite my bruises I headed out again that night and even cruised past the same toilet at one stage. But I now had a name to describe myself - faggot - the lowest of the low, even of the gay world. A thing to be used and abused by men. I wouldn't say I am proud to be a faggot - more ashamed - but the more ashamed and pathetic I feel the hornier I get.
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