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“A Bator’s Remembrance…” via Bator Blog

It never ceases to amaze how similar the things we were all secretly going through ended up being.


I stumbled on this story on the Bateworld Bator Blog (which is interesting, if somewhat cluttered, and you should definitely spend some time in there if solosexuality or serious masturbation are of interest) a couple weeks back and I’ve been meaning to share it with you here, because I think we’re all able to identify something completely similar in our own childhood/early adolescent histories. I was a chronic masturbator before I ever even added up that it was related to capital-S Sex, so alone time in my house in my youth was always treasured in a similar fashion to the author’s here. You can find him on as doggyboner.  And if you’re not on Bateworld, this is as good a time as any. I’m tylerthebadwolf there. Let’s be friends!

To the story:



A Bator’s Remembrance of Things Past

I thought the bate was practicing for REAL SEX!

I’ve got internet porn, DVD porn, porn chat, sex toys, alb, 420, poppers, whiskey, cigs, ass toys, and 1001 accouterments in varying sizes and shapes to enhance my bate. That’s now, but it wasn’t always so. No. It most certainly was not always so.

Once upon a time growing up in a rural backwoods corner of the world, I lived with my parents and attended high school. It was a simple life. All I had for the bate was the Hite Report on Male Sexuality. I would get boned reading people’s accounts of their masturbation experiences, and using my right fist with saliva for lube, I would let my imagination fire the flames of a pleasurable afternoon’s bate. Down the road, I added Penthouse Forum and Letters to the Editor to help stoke those flames even higher.

Both my parents worked and I was an only child, so most afternoons I was free to follow the whims of impulse wherever they would take my still youthful mind. Pillows placed on the edge of the bed could be bunched up in such a way as to make a nice fake pussy. A friend told me about the joys of coring out a dick sized hole in a cantaloupe! There was no shortage of hot guys and girls at school (I’m bi) to add to my spank bank, their images coming to mind as I jerked off. Most of my fantasies centered around masturbation as a form of practice for “real sex” when I was older and, well, you know how it goes.

A bate to Remember…

I remember one day, a day that still lingers in memory when my youthful creativity took me further than it had ever taken me before. Since I had the house to myself, rather than jacking off in the bedroom, as was my wont, I’d decided to use the large living room instead. I got totally naked. Rather than a bed and pillows, I took all the dining room chairs and positioned them facing each other in a row to support my nearly six-foot frame. By now I had a throbbing hard on in anticipation of what I was about to do to myself.

Nasty words turn me on. Since phone sex wasn’t a possibility at the time, I talked to myself. Rather than merely babbling obscenities, I decided to record my “filthy” language. I put a blank tape in the cassette player and went to town telling my imaginary sex partner all the rude things I was doing to her… ”I’m sticking my hard dick in your pussy baby, yeh, fucking you so good…” Vivid fantasies for a high school freshman. Where did I get these ideas?!

I tuned the radio to my favorite rock station and shamelessly broke into my parent’s liquor cabinet. hehe.

Now, what would I use for the pussy? It came down to my fist. I had been experimenting with different lubes and had used my mom’s Vaseline Petroleum Jelly a few times. It was too viscous, though. I got an idea and decided to melt it down to a warm fluid. With my hard dick wagging between my legs I walked over and took a teaspoon and filled it with a glob of Vaseline. Then I took my mom’s cigarette lighter and melted it down in the spoon. It liquefied nicely and I carefully walked it back over to the area I had set up for my imaginary fuck. I poured the liquid Vaseline into my palm and rubbed it all over my straining cock. Getting hornier by the moment, I laid face down on the chairs like I would when I fuck my first chick.

I turned on the recording of all my nasty words and wrapped my fist around my cock and started slowly stroking. It was heaven. The sensation of the warm liquid surrounding my dick and the friction of my tight fist sliding back and forth felt just like I imagined my first pussy would. I started pumping my butt up and down simulating what it would be like to screw.

I added my own real time moans and heavy breathing to the dirty soundtrack on my cassette. I took as much time as I could but the young male body gets overly excited by such a flood of stimulation. My balls stirred pulling up as my legs began tingling and I knew I was close to cumming.

Since I was face down this would not be a shot that landed on my chest or stomach. The only thing to catch my jizz was the tile living room floor. Somehow making a mess right in the middle of the house turned me on even more. Gravity was going to be my ally as my balls separated and my orgasmic muscle contractions started to send out my first spurt. My eyes rolled back in my head as I moaned and started panting hard. The feeling in my cock was so intense as my ejaculate ran down through my shaft shooting on the ground, splat, splat, splat.

I lay in place for a few moments in ecstasy, enjoying the afterglow of my orgasm and what I had achieved. The pearly white spooge made a mess all over the floor which I cleaned up with toilet paper.

I felt good that day and in the days that followed, I continued to practice the bate in anticipation of the fateful day when I would first have sex.



I think it’s such a common thing for young guys to invest in jacking off as ‘practice’ for the ‘real thing,’ instead of learning that jacking can BE the real thing. I never really had that phase, and was sexually active with others from such an early point that I never really had the time or inclination to ‘practice’ as it were.

Loads more on the Bator Blog, and, of course, in itself. Worth your time.




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