by
Start:- On the day I was born everyone seemed really pleased to see me, shouting out "It's a boy!" At first I thought they meant me -- then I found out they meant the guy I was attached to. He liked using me to "wee" through and as soon as he could talk gave me a name -- "Willy".
Three years on:- We went to a place called by the grown-up's the seaside and my boy and I were allowed out on a warm fun place all sandy and nice and no nappy or anything to keep me back, I could jump around as he ran and it felt great to be free in the air and sunshine, but his mum was not so sure, she kept saying I should be covered up with trunks or something. Then his dad said No it's OK, he's only three, let the lad enjoy being a boy while he can.
Then after a couple of more years it seemed no one wanted to see me -- I was only brought out when my boy wanted a wee or when he had a bath -- and that could be fun splashing around in the water. Unless his mum bathed him (she was a strict church-going person) and would keep me under control, no fun then; his dad didn't mind a bit of fun, maybe because he had "Willy Sr" and knew that us dicks need some fun. Anyway the years passed and.....
At 13 years old:- My boy and I went to play with a soccer ball with his best buddy, and after a while his buddy said "Would you like me to feel you, and you can feel me if you want." Well, I started to swell up and stiffen -- I wasn't sure what was happening but I liked it! Anyway the boys went into the toolshed and each undid his fly so out I sprung and so did his who was called "Jimmy". Soon the lad was squeezing and rubbing me and my boy was doing the same to Jimmy. I got bigger and bigger and stiffer and stiffer until I could take it no more and out shot my "cream" -- oh it felt SO good man, was that nice, then Jimmy did the same and we felt a strange closeness, yet it never happened again even though the two boys stayed friends, and I don't know for sure about Jimmy but I always got big and stiff when I was near him.
And I really think Jimmy did for me too.
But my boy's mother went to church, and she would make us go too, and in church they said it was wrong for Jimmy and me to play together, that it was a sin.
I didn't know what that meant, but I know it bothered my guy a lot -- and confused him too.
And even though he had me -- ME! and our Balls! -- hanging between his legs, as he got older, he began to doubt whether he was a Man.
And that's a terrible thing for a guy to doubt.
At 19 years old:- Because of those doubts, my guy had started hanging out with these strange males who walked and talked and smelled funny, sort of like girls, but not true girls; and then he met someone among them who told him about doing "gay sex" -- which he said was "real sex" -- and I was introduced to another dick who I thought I was going to have fun with. He was called by his guy (after he heard my name) "My Willy", but he didn't seem as exciting or excitable as Jimmy. Then -- and this is the awful truth -- I got pushed into a dark, horrible, smelly hole, it smelled terrible, so this is "gay" sex, "real" sex? I hated it, but my guy kept pushing me in and it was warm in there and finally I had to let my pure white cream go into that awful place. Then when I was pulled out, YUK! I was covered in thick brown stinking stuff. Oh I was so glad to be washed! Well, he won't do that again I thought, but how wrong can you be? He kept doing it and doing it, and it was sometimes without and sometimes with this great big rubber bag thing pulled over me and I felt like I might suffocate -- but still at least it kept me clean -- sometimes.
But about half the times, the thing, which my boy called a johnny, broke -- and then the brown stinking stuff got on me again -- I hated that!
And then there were the other times -- not when I got pushed, but when someone else's "willy" got pushed into my boy's own stinking brown hole.
That hurt!
And it didn't make me want to get stiff at all.
Instead it left me all shriveled up.
Sometimes, afterwards, my guy would try to stroke me and make me feel better.
But I never felt really good.
Just hurt and used.
At 22 years old:- Then one day my man met a new guy, good-looking, muscular and a real Man type; he introduced me to "Private John Thomas," called so because he had no foreskin but a big helmet, and looked like a soldier, he could stand to attention like one too! We had some great fun squashing our balls together and a wrestling type sex, combative and aggressive, it could be called SexFight or FightSex -- sex-fighting or fighting-sex -- either way it was great! And the Private and I loved it! We loved getting hard together and pushing and rubbing and grinding against each other with all our might, wrestling the way our Men did, getting slick with sweat and pre-cum and smelling each other's strong Manly scent and feeling each other's full heavy balls smashing and crashing together, and us Dicks getting harder and harder and harder until at last we couldn't stand it and we had to shoot our white hot jizz! Shoot it into pools on our Mans' pecs and abs where it could mix together, white and pure and creamy, so nice to feel and be bathed in and me and Private Thomas would squish around in it and feel covered by it and blessed by it and it was all good fun.
Oh, I wanted it to go on forever!
And I know Private John Thomas did too.
Because he and I were both Dicks, True Men's Dicks, and we knew what we liked.
And sometimes, my guy and the other Man would go on hikes deep into the quiet woods, and after they'd found a green and peaceful meadow, they'd take us Dicks outside, and let us Wrestle and Fight and Cum in God's own fresh air and bright sunshine.
I loved that, and it felt so right to me!
To be Wrestling and Fighting Private John Thomas out in the open, bathed in the sun and the warm sweet air, was perfect for us Dicks, and the way I knew it should be, the complete opposite of those horrible dark places my male had made me go before.
Private Thomas's Man said that he and my guy were Warriors, and that us Dicks were Warrior Dicks, and, you know, after he said it, I knew he was right!
That there, in the wild, both Men became what they were meant to be -- Warriors -- and that me and Private John Thomas became what we were meant to be -- WARRIOR DICKS!
And I felt so Free and Happy when Private Thomas and I got to do that, to be Free Warrior Dicks in a Free Warrior World.
It was all I wanted, and I hoped it would go on forever.
But then came the split, my guy wanting to, he said, "go further" and push me into that dark, smelly hole. But Private John Thomas's Man knew some other Men through a place called "the net" who called themselves The Man2Man Alliance and had a lot to say about this -- about how playing like Private John Thomas did with me was the best way to have fun and True Man2Man Sex -- but my male didn't listen, he always said "You have to do anal if you're gay."
He said it over and over and over again, and I know the reason he said it was that those other males, the ones who walked and talked and smelled funny, had said it to him over and over and over again.
But then Private John Thomas's Man said "I'm not 'gay' -- I'm a Man who likes Masculine Men and likes Man2Man Sex -- ManSex -- FightSex -- WarriorSex -- True Sex -- Dick2Dick Sex". So they split up after one last time "for old times' sake", me having a cum with Private John Thomas, and the Private and I said an emotional and sad goodbye.
At 23 years old:- He kept on pushing me into the dark, smelly holes -- he did it to as many guys as he could and he let them do it to him -- it was like some terrible bleak compulsion to wound and be wounded -- but then both he and I were starting to feel unwell so he went to see the Doctor, who looked at him with some gloves that looked and smelt like the things he sometimes pulled over me; then he threw them away in just the same way as well, then he took some blood and said come back in two weeks.
Two weeks later:- The Doctor said the result was positive (it was HIV), I think he meant "negative" by the reaction of my male he was so upset crying, swearing, stamping his foot, and saying "why?" over and over. Still one good thing at least -- he stopped pushing me into the dark, smelly holes.
Another three and a half years later:- Oh am I ill! so is he, and can't work anymore, but we met up with his old friend (Jimmy's Man) and I felt a twinge of stiffening, but was too ill and I was covered with sores besides, and so I soon fell back. Seeing my male so ill and how much he needed looking after he asked him if he would like to move in with him, the offer was quickly and gratefully taken up.
One more year later:- Because Jimmy's Man can no longer cope with the looking after mine, we had to go to a place called "hospital", and there the bed is narrow, the sheets hard, and everything and everyone smells of something called "disinfectant".
Later, and dying:- We are weak, and remember when we were born, how everyone seemed pleased to see us, saying "It's a boy!" Now though it seems like no one wants to look at me or be with us. The nurses wear a mask over their mouth and nose and rubber gloves to touch or clean me. Weaker and weaker, I think this must be what dying is like. Jimmy's Man came to see my male and they held hands.
Now he is gasping his last and his heart stopping 27 nearly 28 years a good long life wasn't it? Do not all men live about that long? Goodbye Jimmy, if you see him say goodbye to Private John Thomas for me, we had fun guys, but oh how I wish it could have gone on longer, and that I wasn't kept confined and hidden all the time, first in the nappies and then in what my male called "underwear".
Even when he did some sports I was locked in something called a "jock".
It was only when he needed to pee or have a bathe or sleep -- or have a wank -- that I had any freedom at all.
And when I was with you guys -- Jimmy and Private Thomas.
That was True Freedom -- Freedom to be what God had made me -- a Dick -- and not just a Dick but a Warrior Dick and a Warrior Phallus -- the Proud Instrument and Symbol of Manly Creation and Manly Aggression.
And, oh, I wanted to spend all my time with you guys, and to be out in the sunshine and fresh air where I could see and smell and feel my fellow Warrior Dicks -- and their Warrior Balls.
But it wasn't to be.
Yet I know that at one time Men and their Dicks and their Balls were Free like that.
I know it because once, when my boy was still in school, he went to a place called "Museum," and in it there were statues and paintings of Men whose Dicks and Balls were Free!
Some of the Men were just standing,
but others were running -- and even Fighting!
Wrestling and Fighting like me and Private John Thomas did.
And the Men looked happy.
I knew about it because afterwards my boy went home and went to our room and locked the door and took me out and gave me a good wank, the best I'd ever had!
Oh, he wanked me so well, and it felt so good!
The jizz kept pouring out of me, and he wanked me three times, moaning and squeezing our Balls and rubbing his hand over his chest and abs.
And while he was doing it I could see the images from "Museum" running through his mind.
And I know he was thinking -- if only he -- and I -- could live that way.
But it wasn't to be.
Instead of him and me Living Wild and Free like a Man and his Dick and Balls were meant to be -- he kept me hidden, as though he were ashamed of me, and then he started pushing me over and over again into those dark and stinking holes --
until both him and me were so sick, that it couldn't go on.
And then he was dying -- and taking me with him.
Taking me out of this beautiful world with its bright sunshine and sweet air and blue skies and green grass -- and its beautiful Muscular Masculine Men and their beautiful Hard Dicks and cum-filled Balls.
Dying.
And now it's too late for both him and me other than to say -- Goodbye.
Goodbye Jimmy -- say Goodbye to Private Thomas -- I miss you both.
And here's the Truth Jimmy -- after that first time you and I were together, I'd have been happy to spend the rest of my life with you and your Man.
And then, when it looked like that couldn't be, and I met Private Thomas, why I'd have been overjoyed to have spent the rest of my life with him.
You were both fine, Manly, Up-Standing Dicks, and that's all that should matter to another Dick.
Instead, my guy -- my girly guy -- dragged and pushed me into all those loathesome holes.
It was like some sort of bizarre contest, to see how many terrible feces-filled places he could force the two of us to ferret into.
And when he wasn't shoving me into some shithole, he was being violated and tortured by some other deranged male, some weird half-male that tried to act like a woman -- and couldn't because he wasn't.
And what did it get him -- him and all his "gay" friends?
Just a one-way ticket to suffering and death.
But he took me with him.
And yet I could have been so happy -- and he would have been happy too -- with you Jimmy -- or with Private Thomas.
That's all any Dick and any Man needs -- just one other Man and one other Dick.
Just One.
Well, my life's over -- and neither me nor my guy will ever have that now.
Please don't forget me Jimmy.
Please don't.
And if you ever see him, ask Private Thomas -- to remember me too.
Love,
Willy
A few days later Jimmy and his Man went to a place called "Crematorium", and Jimmy's Man, tears streaming down his face, watched as the body of Willy and his male were put into a cardboard box and sent into an oven full of flames.
Jimmy could feel a terrible pain in his Man's heart, and Jimmy knew it was because his Man had loved Willy's guy all those years, ever since they'd been boys, but had been afraid to ever say so --
first because of what they'd told him in church, and then because of the way Willy's guy had started acting after he decided he was "gay."
And yet, along with that terrible pain, Jimmy knew that his Man believed, also deep in his heart, that things didn't need to be this way.
That in a different world, he and Willy's guy could have been free.
Free to be Men, Free to Love each other.
Jimmy knew -- because of what Willy had told him -- that that was true.
And that such a world would be a Warrior World.
Jimmy wondered if he could ever convince his Man of that.
Jimmy wondered.
And then Jimmy remembered what Willy had said -- "if you ever see him, ask Private Thomas to remember me".
Private Thomas, thought Willy.
Private John Thomas.
It's Private John Thomas we need to see -- for Willy's sake, and for mine and my Man's too.
Private John Thomas.
If only we can find him . . .
to be continued . . .
Also by Warrior Brian Hulme:
The credit crunch will NOT crunch my Manhood my Masculinity or my Warriorhood
CAN MY MAN TO MAN RELATIONSHIP DRAW ME CLOSER TO GOD?
14th February -- or -- EROS DAY?
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© All material on this site Copyright 2001 - 2011 by Bill Weintraub. All rights reserved.
© All material Copyright 2011 by Bill Weintraub. All rights reserved.
