Most Humiliating Moment

[Guest WorldEscrt Sean]

They make for interesting works of art! I had them framed on raised glass so that the light behind them really shows them off. They're quite beautiful.

[Guest cp8036]

Continuing with languages and humiliation...

 

When I was a teenager I was learning Spanish. I worked part-time in a pizza restaurant. One night a call came in from a Spanish speaker. I was not very good with Spanish then.. so I did my best.

 

The lady asked for 14 inch, with : pineapple, mushroom, ham.. (no self-respecting Chicagoan would order this ...)

 

In Spanish pineapple is pina ( tilde over the N, so ends in "YA" sound). Inches is pulgadas, de is of, and cock is sometimes referred to as pinga in slang.

 

So I repeated in my halting Spanish: 14 PULGADAS DE PINGA

 

The lady screamed with laughter...and just then a couple of Mexico guys walked by and overheard my asking for a 14 inch cock.

[Guest cp8036]

Continuing with languages and humiliation...

 

When I was a teenager I was learning Spanish. I worked part-time in a pizza restaurant. One night a call came in from a Spanish speaker. I was not very good with Spanish then.. so I did my best.

 

The lady asked for 14 inch, with : pineapple, mushroom, ham.. (no self-respecting Chicagoan would order this ...)

 

In Spanish pineapple is pina ( tilde over the N, so ends in "YA" sound). Inches is pulgadas, de is of, and cock is sometimes referred to as pinga in slang.

 

So I repeated in my halting Spanish: 14 PULGADAS DE PINGA

 

The lady screamed with laughter...and just then a couple of Mexico guys walked by and overheard my asking for a 14 inch cock.

[Guest JD]

Great thread, Sean. Don’t know if I’d have the balls to share a story like that. But, here’s one of my humiliation experiences….

 

It was a dark and rainy Halloween night back when I was young, slender, good-looking, and irresponsible. I went to my favorite watering hole and proceeded to get totally drunk.

 

I met a really hot guy and we decided to go to my place after the bar closed. I remember getting in the car but can’t recall the drive home. (Not a good sign.)

 

I sobered up slightly when I opened the car door and tired to climb out of the vehicle. I immediately fell flat on my face and looked down to find my pants around my ankles. (Another bad sign.)

 

We got in the house, retired to the bedroom, and had fantastic sex. The guy had me in positions I didn’t know existed!! After we fucked, he gently removed my glasses and turned off the lights on his way to the bathroom. He returned with a moist towel to clean me up then we drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

 

A couple hours later I awoke and needed to piss like a racehorse. I didn’t want to disturb him and carefully climbed out of bed in the dark. Once the bathroom door was closed I turned on the light, pointed my cock towards the toilet, and started pissing.

 

I hadn’t bothered putting on my glasses so I really couldn’t see clearly. But I could make out the shape of a brown, furry object curled up on the toilet tank. Boy was I pissed to think the neighbor’s cat had somehow got into my house again.

 

I slowly reached down, grabbed the toilet bowl brush, and started beating the damn cat while yelling curses. Hearing the commotion, my trick came running into the bathroom to see what was wrong.

 

He grabbed the brush out of my hand and the motionless cat dropped into the piss-filled toilet bowl. I turned around to confront him and noticed that my “Prince Charming” was now sporting a very shiny (and bald) dome.

 

The “cat” was actually his toupee that he removed after sex. He claimed it was no big deal and he could get it professionally cleaned and restyled. However, every time I see him, I still feel embarrassed about the incident. :'(

 

JD

[Guest JD]

Great thread, Sean. Don’t know if I’d have the balls to share a story like that. But, here’s one of my humiliation experiences….

 

It was a dark and rainy Halloween night back when I was young, slender, good-looking, and irresponsible. I went to my favorite watering hole and proceeded to get totally drunk.

 

I met a really hot guy and we decided to go to my place after the bar closed. I remember getting in the car but can’t recall the drive home. (Not a good sign.)

 

I sobered up slightly when I opened the car door and tired to climb out of the vehicle. I immediately fell flat on my face and looked down to find my pants around my ankles. (Another bad sign.)

 

We got in the house, retired to the bedroom, and had fantastic sex. The guy had me in positions I didn’t know existed!! After we fucked, he gently removed my glasses and turned off the lights on his way to the bathroom. He returned with a moist towel to clean me up then we drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

 

A couple hours later I awoke and needed to piss like a racehorse. I didn’t want to disturb him and carefully climbed out of bed in the dark. Once the bathroom door was closed I turned on the light, pointed my cock towards the toilet, and started pissing.

 

I hadn’t bothered putting on my glasses so I really couldn’t see clearly. But I could make out the shape of a brown, furry object curled up on the toilet tank. Boy was I pissed to think the neighbor’s cat had somehow got into my house again.

 

I slowly reached down, grabbed the toilet bowl brush, and started beating the damn cat while yelling curses. Hearing the commotion, my trick came running into the bathroom to see what was wrong.

 

He grabbed the brush out of my hand and the motionless cat dropped into the piss-filled toilet bowl. I turned around to confront him and noticed that my “Prince Charming” was now sporting a very shiny (and bald) dome.

 

The “cat” was actually his toupee that he removed after sex. He claimed it was no big deal and he could get it professionally cleaned and restyled. However, every time I see him, I still feel embarrassed about the incident. :'(

 

JD

[Bilbo]

Absolutely! I once had a leatherboy client come over to get me to try to reach up with my fist and pull a dildo that had lost its balls over the years out of his butt. Im-possible. I just kept pushing it in further. Finally we decided that if it didn't come out by the next evening, he would have to go to the ER as he wanted it out before his lover came home the day after that. Heard later that he had had to do the ER thing.

[Bilbo]

Absolutely! I once had a leatherboy client come over to get me to try to reach up with my fist and pull a dildo that had lost its balls over the years out of his butt. Im-possible. I just kept pushing it in further. Finally we decided that if it didn't come out by the next evening, he would have to go to the ER as he wanted it out before his lover came home the day after that. Heard later that he had had to do the ER thing.

[Guest Wildcats]

I symphatize with your feeling of being humiliated. But just to tell you -- you are not the only person who've been through it-- and the ER staff know or should be understanding. During my ER stint as a resident in LA several years ago, I've seen other similar things happen with dildos. The radiology department also had teaching files for foreign bodies in of the colo-rectum, and I've seen metal balls, plastic balls (different to see on x-ray), beer bottles, cucumbers, eggplant and other foreign objects. The patient with the beer bottle had to undergo surgical exploration because of perforation and infection that set in; probably because he left it there for a few days hoping that it would spontaneously get extruded. I admire your guts to swallow your pride and seek immediate medical attention.

[Guest Wildcats]

I symphatize with your feeling of being humiliated. But just to tell you -- you are not the only person who've been through it-- and the ER staff know or should be understanding. During my ER stint as a resident in LA several years ago, I've seen other similar things happen with dildos. The radiology department also had teaching files for foreign bodies in of the colo-rectum, and I've seen metal balls, plastic balls (different to see on x-ray), beer bottles, cucumbers, eggplant and other foreign objects. The patient with the beer bottle had to undergo surgical exploration because of perforation and infection that set in; probably because he left it there for a few days hoping that it would spontaneously get extruded. I admire your guts to swallow your pride and seek immediate medical attention.

[Guest ChicagoCorey]

This settles it. Nothing is going any me that doesn't have an owner who can pull it out when he's finished. End of discussion. These stories are freaking me out and literally making me squirm.

 

They're funny though -- great posts.

 

-------

chicagocorey@yahoo.com

get to know me/updated frequently

http://www.geocities.com/chicagocorey

[Guest ChicagoCorey]

This settles it. Nothing is going any me that doesn't have an owner who can pull it out when he's finished. End of discussion. These stories are freaking me out and literally making me squirm.

 

They're funny though -- great posts.

 

-------

chicagocorey@yahoo.com

get to know me/updated frequently

http://www.geocities.com/chicagocorey

[Guest BenDover]

I had a rather humiliating situation that involved about 50 other people, the County Health Department and my mother. I was about 24 years old and had recently moved back home with my parents after graduate school and just before I took a new position in a different city. My parents lived on a farm, and in a minor farming accident, I had fallen off the tractor into a ditch. Nothing very serious at all, but I was a bit bumped and bruised.

 

That evening was a surprise party for my parent 40th wedding anniversary, and there were many guest invited, about 50, and we celebrated in my folks home. There was lots of drinking and eating from the buffet and it was a great time. I had been sitting on the floor for the better part of the evening, and when I went to get up, I couldn't. My joints were all frozen up, and I was in considerable pain. My brothers helped me up and I went to bed. I just attributed the discomfort to falling off the tractor.

 

The next morning, I got up and did not feel well at all. I went for my morning piss and my urine was the color of coca cola, and I new something was wrong. I had my brother drive me in to town to see the doctor who quite quickly diagnosed me with Hepatitis B. He then asked if I had shared food or drink with anyone recently. I though, "Oh shit. 50 house guest and a buffet table."

 

I then returned home and informed my parents, who then had to call all 50 party guests and tell them they had been exposed to Hepatitis B and had to go to the County Health Department for a shot of gamma globulin. Initially, even though it was unpleasant for my parents to do, there were no judgments or even consideration about how one actually contracted Hepatitis B.

 

My parents and siblings also had to go to the Health Department for their shots. Upon return, I knew something was not right. My sister looked at me with a sheepish grin and ducked down the hallway to her room, obviously not wanting to be there for the questions she knew my mother was about to ask.

 

My looked me right in the face and said, "There was a big sign in the Health Department lobby that said 'Hepatitis B: Common amongst prostitutes and homosexuals.' So, which one are you?"

I was mortified. And then she said, "And we have completely depleted the county's supply of gamma globulin. They had to send away for more of it in the next county."

 

Obviously, I had not yet come out as a gay person, it being in a very rural area in a western state. And I was humiliated, but not nearly as humiliated as I believe my mother must have been standing in the lobby of the county Health Department with all of her friends getting gamma globulin shots under that sign about "prostitutes and homosexuals."

 

I hope that sign has finally come down at the health department. I hope they are a bit more sensitive about the issue. Just as a coda, many years later, after my parents and I were quite comfortable with my gayness, my mother was able to laugh about it, but she was royally pissed on that particular afternoon.

[Guest EastWest Coast]

Three years ago I attended a business conference in Orlando. There were several hundred people there, but there was one guy I thought was especially hot. We made eye contact and -- eventually -- spent the night together in my room. "Jack" told me he lived in Bradenton, FL which at the time meant nothing to me.

 

After the conference I went to Sarasota to spend a few days with some old friends from college. I'd never been to the Gulf coast before and was surprised at how beautiful it was. On my third night there, my friends invited a couple of their friends over for dinner. When the door opened, in walked "Jack" from the Orlando conference and his partner! (Bradenton, as I then learned, is right next door to Sarasota.)

 

I was stunned, and he was terrified. I've never seen anybody blush like that before.

 

We all sat down for drinks as I tried to figure out what to do. Inevitably, the fact that we'd both just attended the same conference would come up. I decided that the only thing to do was to bring up the subject myself before anybody else did. I said to "Jack," "Gee you look kind of familiar. By any chance, were you at the ____ conference in Orlando this past week?"

 

He said he'd been there and that I looked vaguely familiar to him, too. After we exchanged some "small world" cliches, the conversation moved on.

 

The evening proceeded uneventfully, and we all enjoyed good food and good conversation. I realized then that I'd chosen the wrong career: Acting was my destiny.

 

After the guests left and his partner was cleaning up the kitchen, my host and old friend Mike - who I'd known since my first day in the dorm at college -- pulled me aside. "OK, what's up?" he demanded jokingly. "You were acting really weird tonight."

 

"Uh, did you know that 'Jack' is uncut?" I answered. We both started laughing to the point that tears were streaming down our cheeks. Hysterical, gasping for breath laughter.

 

Mike's partner came in from the kitchen and ask what was so funny. First Mike and then I tried to explain, but we couldn't get a single coherent sentence out since we were so busy laughing, crying and trying to breathe.

 

If there's one bit of geographical trivia I'll never forget, it's the fact that Bradenton is contiguous with Sarasota.

[Guest BenDover]

I had a rather humiliating situation that involved about 50 other people, the County Health Department and my mother. I was about 24 years old and had recently moved back home with my parents after graduate school and just before I took a new position in a different city. My parents lived on a farm, and in a minor farming accident, I had fallen off the tractor into a ditch. Nothing very serious at all, but I was a bit bumped and bruised.

 

That evening was a surprise party for my parent 40th wedding anniversary, and there were many guest invited, about 50, and we celebrated in my folks home. There was lots of drinking and eating from the buffet and it was a great time. I had been sitting on the floor for the better part of the evening, and when I went to get up, I couldn't. My joints were all frozen up, and I was in considerable pain. My brothers helped me up and I went to bed. I just attributed the discomfort to falling off the tractor.

 

The next morning, I got up and did not feel well at all. I went for my morning piss and my urine was the color of coca cola, and I new something was wrong. I had my brother drive me in to town to see the doctor who quite quickly diagnosed me with Hepatitis B. He then asked if I had shared food or drink with anyone recently. I though, "Oh shit. 50 house guest and a buffet table."

 

I then returned home and informed my parents, who then had to call all 50 party guests and tell them they had been exposed to Hepatitis B and had to go to the County Health Department for a shot of gamma globulin. Initially, even though it was unpleasant for my parents to do, there were no judgments or even consideration about how one actually contracted Hepatitis B.

 

My parents and siblings also had to go to the Health Department for their shots. Upon return, I knew something was not right. My sister looked at me with a sheepish grin and ducked down the hallway to her room, obviously not wanting to be there for the questions she knew my mother was about to ask.

 

My looked me right in the face and said, "There was a big sign in the Health Department lobby that said 'Hepatitis B: Common amongst prostitutes and homosexuals.' So, which one are you?"

I was mortified. And then she said, "And we have completely depleted the county's supply of gamma globulin. They had to send away for more of it in the next county."

 

Obviously, I had not yet come out as a gay person, it being in a very rural area in a western state. And I was humiliated, but not nearly as humiliated as I believe my mother must have been standing in the lobby of the county Health Department with all of her friends getting gamma globulin shots under that sign about "prostitutes and homosexuals."

 

I hope that sign has finally come down at the health department. I hope they are a bit more sensitive about the issue. Just as a coda, many years later, after my parents and I were quite comfortable with my gayness, my mother was able to laugh about it, but she was royally pissed on that particular afternoon.

[Guest EastWest Coast]

Three years ago I attended a business conference in Orlando. There were several hundred people there, but there was one guy I thought was especially hot. We made eye contact and -- eventually -- spent the night together in my room. "Jack" told me he lived in Bradenton, FL which at the time meant nothing to me.

 

After the conference I went to Sarasota to spend a few days with some old friends from college. I'd never been to the Gulf coast before and was surprised at how beautiful it was. On my third night there, my friends invited a couple of their friends over for dinner. When the door opened, in walked "Jack" from the Orlando conference and his partner! (Bradenton, as I then learned, is right next door to Sarasota.)

 

I was stunned, and he was terrified. I've never seen anybody blush like that before.

 

We all sat down for drinks as I tried to figure out what to do. Inevitably, the fact that we'd both just attended the same conference would come up. I decided that the only thing to do was to bring up the subject myself before anybody else did. I said to "Jack," "Gee you look kind of familiar. By any chance, were you at the ____ conference in Orlando this past week?"

 

He said he'd been there and that I looked vaguely familiar to him, too. After we exchanged some "small world" cliches, the conversation moved on.

 

The evening proceeded uneventfully, and we all enjoyed good food and good conversation. I realized then that I'd chosen the wrong career: Acting was my destiny.

 

After the guests left and his partner was cleaning up the kitchen, my host and old friend Mike - who I'd known since my first day in the dorm at college -- pulled me aside. "OK, what's up?" he demanded jokingly. "You were acting really weird tonight."

 

"Uh, did you know that 'Jack' is uncut?" I answered. We both started laughing to the point that tears were streaming down our cheeks. Hysterical, gasping for breath laughter.

 

Mike's partner came in from the kitchen and ask what was so funny. First Mike and then I tried to explain, but we couldn't get a single coherent sentence out since we were so busy laughing, crying and trying to breathe.

 

If there's one bit of geographical trivia I'll never forget, it's the fact that Bradenton is contiguous with Sarasota.

[+ deej]

>This settles it. Nothing is

>going any me that doesn't

>have an owner who can

>pull it out when he's

>finished.

 

Careful, Corey. You may find yourself in a situation where you wish he'd pull it out before he's finished. }>

[+ deej]

>This settles it. Nothing is

>going any me that doesn't

>have an owner who can

>pull it out when he's

>finished.

 

Careful, Corey. You may find yourself in a situation where you wish he'd pull it out before he's finished. }>

[Guest WorldEscrt Sean]

RE: The worst part

 

I think the worst part of it all was turning the Doctor's report over to my Southern Baptist Steel Magnolia Southern bell bitch of a mother. My insurance was through my parents at the time. My Mother was to say the least NOT THRILLED! Her response was: REMOVAL OF FOREIGN OBJECT FROM ANAL TRACK!!!! WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN SEAN!!!!!??????

[Guest WorldEscrt Sean]

RE: The worst part

 

I think the worst part of it all was turning the Doctor's report over to my Southern Baptist Steel Magnolia Southern bell bitch of a mother. My insurance was through my parents at the time. My Mother was to say the least NOT THRILLED! Her response was: REMOVAL OF FOREIGN OBJECT FROM ANAL TRACK!!!! WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN SEAN!!!!!??????

[Guest DCescortBOY]

RE: The worst part

 

belle

[Guest DCescortBOY]

RE: The worst part

 

belle

[Guest Kevin 2]

RE: The worst part

 

REMOVAL OF FOREIGN OBJECT FROM ANAL TRACK!!!! WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN SEAN!!!!!??????

So Sean how did you explain that one to your mom? Would love to hear what else she had to say.. ;-)

[Guest Kevin 2]

RE: The worst part

 

REMOVAL OF FOREIGN OBJECT FROM ANAL TRACK!!!! WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN SEAN!!!!!??????

So Sean how did you explain that one to your mom? Would love to hear what else she had to say.. ;-)

[Guest WorldEscrt Sean]

RE: The worst part

 

She hung up on me and died 4 months later of a heart attack.

OOPS!

[Guest WorldEscrt Sean]

RE: The worst part

 

She hung up on me and died 4 months later of a heart attack.

OOPS!