The Making of a Malesub

By Timothy W.

(I'll forward it to the author)

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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The Making of a Malesub
By Timothy W.

Fb, gb, ped, inc, anal

SUMMARY:
The author describes his unusual upbringing as a submissive male in an all-female household. Was it love, abuse, or some combination of the two?

Introduction: When I finished writing the following account of my sexual development, I felt liberated. I had been keeping it as the foremost secret of my life, never revealing it to anyone in the 62 years I’ve been alive. I was married for 25 years and never told my wife about any of this. For reasons that will become obvious, I have written it under a pseudonym.

I was raised in an all-female household, and my upbringing was rather unusual. My mother, aunts and four sisters all believed that females are the superior gender and should be in control of the men in their lives. I came to believe this, too.

I was taught to always obey the commands I received from any woman. If I protested or hesitated, I was forced to take off my pants and underpants, and bend over the dining room table for a spanking. My sisters delighted in giving me the most distasteful tasks to do, hoping I would complain and be punished. Spankings weren’t unusual back in the 60s, but mine were administered in front of whatever women happened to be in the house at the time. In hindsight, I think sometimes my mother made up excuses to spank me when her friends came over, to show off the degree of control she had over me. My sisters and aunts enjoyed watching me squirm, and the chance to get a good look at my genitals. This continued even when I had reached puberty, until I went to college. And often my sisters, both younger and older, were allowed to invite their friends to watch as well. It was quite humiliating. Imagine a naked 14-year-old boy being spanked in front of a group of giggling 8-year-old girls.

I was also bathed by someone from the household until I was 14. This became very embarrassing once I hit puberty, as I couldn’t control my erections. Once a week, prior to my bath, my aunts administered an enema too me. It always seemed to me that they used far more soapy water than was necessary, in order to maximize my discomfort. My aunts, who never married, definitely had a sadistic streak.

My enemas were followed by weekly “temperature checks,” ostensibly to ensure that I was in good health. As you might guess, my aunts insisted on a rectal temperature. But the instrument used was unusually thick and long, the sort of thermometer I would imagine being used for a farm animal, and they made a point of inserting its full 10 inches into my rectum, which was quite uncomfortable when I was young. Before they inserted it, they lubricated my anus and beyond, inserting not one greasy finger into my butthole, but two, and working them around to distribute the lube. When they “took my temperature,” they found reasons to continually pull the instrument out and reinsert it.

I remember once being constipated, and my mother got out a large box of glycerin suppositories and had me lie face down across her lap with my pants and briefs around my ankles. I know now that the normal dosage is one suppository, but I clearly remember my mother pushing suppository after suppository into my rectum until she had emptied the entire box. She had been drinking and had a wicked grin on her face while she inserted the bullet-like plugs into me. I think maybe she hadn’t intended to use them all, but couldn’t stop herself once she got started. It was terribly uncomfortable having that much foreign matter in my back passage, and I won’t even go into the gastrointestinal consequences. Yet even recalling the event now, my cock is stiff as a rod.

Something else happened when I was around 14; my mother told me she needed me to help her teach my younger sisters about sex. At first I thought she wanted me to explain the birds and the bees to them, but it turns out she had in mind a more hands-on lesson. She made me strip naked and lie down on our dining room table, like a cadaver at a medical lecture. Then she pointed out to my sisters various parts of my anatomy, such as my penis and testicles. She also explained to them that boys have prostate glands that produce the clear part of semen, and which can be felt and stimulated through the walls of their rectums. She told both of my young sisters to feel free to touch my penis and balls, and even massage my prostate, so they could become familiar and comfortable with male anatomy. They seemed amused when their ministrations resulted in my penis standing at attention and dripping a bit of clear pre-cum from my prostate.

My mother used my erection as another teaching moment, telling the girls to notice how completely a man’s (or boy’s) penis changes when he becomes sexually excited. Then she said I needed to show them what an ejaculation looks like. She said I could either masturbate, or she would have one of my older sisters give me a hand job. I chose masturbation, and she told me to warn them when I was about to cum so they could pay special attention. Once I came, she had each of my sisters taste my semen so they would know what it tasted like.

One of my little sisters asked my mother how many times a man can orgasm without running out of semen. My mom said she didn’t really know, and said “Let’s find out!” She made me masturbate to orgasm every 20 minutes for the next two hours. Each ejaculation was smaller than the last. By the time I reached my sixth orgasm, almost nothing came out of me and my mother said, “I think we have the answer.”

When I was 15 my two aunts decided that I should learn how to please a woman. They taught me how to go down on them, how to lick and suck their clits, and even how to tongue their buttholes. They also taught me where and how to use vibrators on them. That’s when I fell in love with the taste of a woman’s nectar, and cunnilingus has been my favorite sexual act ever since.

In return, they showed me what a blowjob feels like, and often took turns fucking me in the ass with a vibrating strap-on.

My aunts also spent a good deal of time training me to control my orgasms. This involved giving me expert hand and blow jobs, and forbidding me to cum. If I did, I was punished in various ways. In addition, I was taught to force an orgasm as quickly as possible when they ordered me to cum. Their goal was to get me so well trained that I would be able to ejaculate on command without even touching my penis. I never achieved that, however.

Every New Year’s Eve, my mother threw a cocktail party for her female friends only. I was the entertainment for these parties. After all the women had been drinking for a couple of hours, I was told to undress and was blindfolded. My mother gave me a special “New Year’s cocktail” to drink and led into the living room. Viagra had not yet come on the market, but I think she must have put something similar in my drink, because my erection didn’t subside for the entire evening.

Blindfold in place, I was led in the middle of the room and all the women were encouraged to fondle me. I had no idea who was doing what, but some liked to use their hands, some their mouths. Some invaded my asshole, and some liked to spank me once I had an erection and watch my cock jump with each blow. I had to stand during all of this, but then I was instructed to lie on the floor on my back and stick out my tongue. When I did that, I felt one female body part after another rubbing against my tongue. Sometimes it was the salty taste of a women’s nectar, sometimes the acrid taste of an asshole. This could go on for hours, with each woman taking their turn sitting on my face. At the same time some women lowered themselves onto my cock and made me fuck them. My tongue would get very tired, but if I didn’t keep licking someone would squeeze my balls painfully until I started again.

Before the evening was out, my aunts would demonstrate their ability to withhold and force my orgasms.

These parties were very humiliating but at the same time very much a turn-on for me.

I was allowed to date during high school, but there were rules. My mother had to meet and approve my dates. She insisted I show them the same respect I showed her, and when she met with them she would explain that they would have to take charge during our dates, and especially in the event they wanted to have sex with me. This freaked many girls out, so I didn’t have a very active social life.

The longest relationship I had in high school was with Jackie, a tall, slightly overweight tomboy who had been raised in an all-male household, just the opposite of my situation. She hadn’t been raised to believe that females were superior to males, but she seemed to have come to that conclusion on her own. As I say, she was something of a tomboy, not particularly feminine. In retrospect, I suspect she was actually a lesbian who hadn’t yet realized it herself. In any event, back in the ‘70s lesbians were still very much in the closet.

Dominance definitely came naturally to her. Our first kiss happened the first time we were alone together. Without saying a word, she pressed her lips to mine and pushed her tongue into my mouth. We never had intercourse, but she did give me a hand job – again, her idea – but she insisted on being in a certain position while she did it. That was both of us naked, me on my back, her sitting on my belly in a sort of reverse cowgirl position. She pressed her pussy against the base of my penis, so that it basically looked like it could have been her penis, not mine, and would stroke it vigorously – a bit too much so for my taste, but she never failed to get me off, and I think that by rubbing her clitoris against my cock, she was able to climax as well. I say that because sometimes if I came too soon, she would continue to rub herself against my prick for a few minutes until she tensed up and then relaxed.

I guess some would consider my upbringing as a form of child abuse, but I’ve never thought of it that way and still don’t. In fact I never felt as loved as I did in that house.

To this day, I have a strong urge to be submissive to women, and to do everything I can to please them and give them pleasure.

END

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