The Confessional Is Open

The Confessional Is Open

What have you done?

What have you done that you’re secretly proud? Or that haunts you?

What have you done?

What have you done that gives you a hard-on? Or makes you want to cut off your cock?

What have you done?

What have you done that puts fear in your soul? Or gives you wings?

We all have these secrets. These things that lurk in the corners of our lives.

I’ve actually told many of these on this website. My molestation and how I struggles with dichotomy of the desires of sex and the hatred of the man who did it. Then there’s stealthing and breeding the men who give opportunity in sex clubs.

Here’s your opportunity to tell your story.

The confessional is open. There is no need for your e-mail or anything else. Just post your secret, from the mundane to the mischievous to the malevolent.

Tell the world your sins. You will feel better.

 

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Long-time readers of my blog might recall this is not the first confessional. Here’s links to previous confessionals:

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  1. Met a guy on-line who has encouraged me to go out and get bred by seedy folks. Black. Hispanic. White. He has encouraged me to take any and all loads up my ass. I report back to him each guy I’ve let fuck me or that I’ve sucked off – often with photographic evidence.

    His goal was to fuck up my life by getting me charged. And I eventually told him I converted. ….except for the fact that I converted years ago.

    He is the 3rd person who believes they got me to go poz.

  2. Oh, boy, Mark, is this post a good one, and certainly worth the wait.

    In spite of being a Happily-Recovered-Catholic, I truly believe that confession is very good for the Soul (as well as the Mind, the Body, etc.).

    However, am I going to confess something here and now? No. In the near future, maybe.

  3. When I was about 10, I was playing cops and robbers with an older neighborhood kid. He was about 15 or so. He started to nudge my ass and then it worked up to him pinning me down and forcing his cock into me. I never said no, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted it or not. I kinda did, but wanted to stop when he fucked me. He stopped after a couple of thrusts when his parents came home. But ever since then, I’ve been into guys that are a bit stockier, like the kid that took my cherry. I sometimes feel like I’m secretly trying to find that intense struggle of desire again, even though I know I didn’t want it when he was fucking me. It’s that bit of irrational shame being the victim and feeling conflicted. Even now, as a top chasing stockier dudes to breed, I can’t trust whether my tastes are real or part of some unfinished business.

  4. I used to be very clear about not dumping my load inside a guy that doesn’t want it. Now, it’s more of a grey line. Even if they ask for a condom, I try to work in bare first. When they insist on me suiting up, I sometimes slip it off midway through or pull it down tight so it pops or use Vaseline for lube to see if it naturally gets compromised. In other words, I’ve stealthed a couple guys and I’m totally not proud of it.