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Back in the 1990’s when I was a teen there was two Brothers in my old neighborhood in Brooklyn called Sam and Mike.

I really hated those two bastards.

Sam and Mike terrorized other kids in our sector all the time and they were known to carry guns and stick kids up so they got away with a lot of b******* in East Flatbush. The s*** that pissed me off the most about them was their arrogance. They thought no one was gonna ever touch them.

Now I was a double kid, with one set of friends I was a take no s*** kid who would fight you at the drop of a hat and with my other friends I was a nerd. Sam and Mike only knew my nerd side because they used bully some very smart kids I used to study with and hangout with but I was also protected by the crew I grew up with on my block which had a big reputation for taking no s*** and dishing out most brutal punishments, so they knew better than to f*** with me, I had juice and there would be consequences if they robbed me.

One night I while walking on Avenue D I witnessed Sam & Mike with two other kids sticking up a kid I knew from Midwood at gunpoint. He was a cool Haitian kid who was always about his schooling and his sneakers. He used to come into our sector to visit his girlfriend who lived a block over from where I lived. Sam and Mike robbed him of his Jordan’s and a chain. I also knew that kid’s Cousin Jimmy he led a notorious crew in Vanderveer who had a reputation for clapping up anyone for the littlest thing.

Anyway A few weeks after that incident, I saw Sam and Mike harassing a girl I liked, but I wasn’t thug like them. Yeah I had hands but wasn’t a low life gun toting bully. So I wasn’t going to get myself shot over her.

Weeks after that Sam decided he was gonna f*** with me. He asked me how come I never say what’s up to them or show them any respect. I was in a foul mood that day so I said because no one respects you or your f****** Brother. And then Sam pulled his gun on me daring me to say that s*** again.

I thought he was gonna kill me anyway so I just looked at him with seriousness and he said he was just kidding and he let me slide. I was both scared and angry but I never told any of the guys on my block.

Instead I went into Vanderveer and found Jimmy who I told him what just happened to me and how I witnessed Sam and Mike robbing his Cousin. Jimmy didn’t believe me so he told me to step, and I went home.

A few nights later I saw Jimmy again at the White Castle on the Junction and asked to me take a walk with him around the block. While we walking Jimmy says to me I believe you, you’re a good kid then hands me a knot of cash. I took a livery cab home with a bag of White Castle.

When I got home I counted the money he gave me, it was $3,200. Just like that a well known gangster gave me money just for letting him know that Sam and Mike robbed his cousin.

A week later Sam the meanest of the two Brothers, the a****** who pointed a gun at me got clapped up two weeks after that Mike’s body was found in the bushes at Catherine McCauley High School with a pair of bullets in him.

Some say Mike got shot in Vanderveer while trying to kill Jimmy but one Jimmy’s henchmen clapped Mike who ran and hid in the bushes at McAuley where he bled to death.

Now the only reason Mike would try to kill Jimmy was because he must have gotten word that Jimmy clapped Sam. I held all of that inside because I knew my seeking Jimmy out for help was behind Sam and Mike getting clapped.

I stayed low key because I was worried if anyone found out in my sector that it would start a war between my block and Sam and Mike’s block. A year later Jimmy is on my block with 911 Porsche chopping it up with one of the O.G.’s on my block he motions me over and gives me a pound and asks me if I’m good then hands me another knot.

Now dudes on my block looking at me wondering how I’m cool with Jimmy like that. Jimmy saw how uncomfortable I was so he told them how I’d walk through Vanderveer with no fear and how I was a cool dude.

Sam and Mike was our secret until now. Jimmy passed away two days ago of cancer. He was only 56 years old. Life is odd that way…

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I lost my virginity to my mother, but it was not like it was loving or e***** or passionate. It was not a loving thing. I was a late bloomer and knew nothing about my own body or s e x. It was just her and me. I was 14 and had recently experienced my first w********. I was confused by all that but afraid to ask her. She found it on the sheets and waa disgusted and derogatory about it. She accused me of whatever m a s tur bation was (i did not know) and got otk bare bottol spanked. I was made to wear diapers to bed so that i did not mess the sheets. This was in cloth diaper days, so guess what, as soft as they were i accidentally discovered how it felt to sleep on my stomach and grind my hips against the mattress. An important point is that my g e n i t a ls had not really developed as far as growing larger, so a cloth diaper easily contained me when aroused. She just kept getting angry and spanking me. Ended up forced to sleep in her bed because she was tired of washing diapers and did not trust me not to abuse ot degrade myself. So over time i began to attach to the brief glimpses of her dressing or u*********. What little i saw was fascinating. I could not risk grinding to get off sleeping in her bed. And the spankings were rough. Rarely bruised but extended and very painful, i usually ended up in tears. One day i was walking down the hall to the bathroom and passed her (“our”) bedroom door, it was half closed. I saw her standing in front of a full length mirror, only in panyhose, her back was to me at an angle but i saw her reflected in the mirror. Bare breasted modest breasts, very large prominent n******, broad hips, classically shaped bottom. I stood there frozen and gawking as her hand was fondling her breasts and one of her hands slid down into her pantyhose and was moving. I felt something i could not describe and instinct had me opening my pants and touching myself. Not stroking just fondling myself. No surprise she notices me and gets angry, storms over to me, snatches me into her room, angtily calling me dirty filthy etc. Tells me it was not fair that she had to go without because of being a single mother and she wasnt going to go without any more because of me. Said i was hopeless and an abomination and she was sick and tired of having to watch over me when i would nevrr change. Told me to stand there and watch like a dirty sicko if i wanted to watch so bad and could not control myself. So i stood there afraid to touch myself with her right there in front of me and i watched confused as my mother resumed pleasing her body as if i were not there. I went back and forth between directly watching her and watching her reflection. She only noticed me again when she had caught her breath and saw i was fondling myself still, and she mocked me and called me pathetic for being whatever a dirty little j******* was and not being able to even do that right. She screamed at me to get out and i ran crying. She only ever mentioned it by telling me i was going back to my bed and still sleeping in diapers. I ground myself to climax over and over night after night and she ended up making me do all my laundry. Things changed after that. She fed and clothed me but i only existed after that. She pretended i did not exist and began no longer caring about closing doors or what she wore or did not wear. Told me i was going to be dirty and look so why should she not get to act as she wished and hidjng herself as a woman from my disgusting peeping. Over time it was not uncommon for me to walk by her open bedroom door and see her openly mas tur bating in many ways. Yes i always watched. Yes i always fondled myself. But i had not actually mas tur bated to o r g a sm yet. That came one day when i stood watching an extended period of her self pleasure as i was still fondling myself watching from her bedroom door. She got angry and called me pathetic that i couldnt even be good at abusing my body like a creep. She got a bath towel and laid it on the floor and made me stand on it and instructed me to take my p e n i s between my thumb and finger and directed me how to pleasure myself with my own hand. It was earth shattering as i had that o r g a sm and barely kept my feet. All she said was to make sure the towel was in the laundry. After that it was unspoken. If i saw her mastur bating, i got a towel to stand on when i watched. She would sometimee be naked or nearly so in the house and i would get a towel and do my thing and she paid veru little attention to me. It evolved to me even standing right by her bed and even kneeling on her bed watching closer. One day i forgot to get a towel and was kneeling beside her and came so fast it was on the sheets and across her stomach. She was very angry and i had to get a towel and clean her then change and wash her sheets too. We went through a period where i was pleasuring myself so much that i would watch but did not finish myself and would go to my room to finish. One day she found me touching myself and seemed genuinely worried that i was isolating myself and was degraded with the threat that i was never going to be a man. That hurt and angered me. There came a day when i was atypically bold and knelt between her legs watching very close and curiousity got the best of me. I reached out and touched the dark hair between her legs. She froze looking at me but did not say a word and i began to touch snd investigate more. She continues to fondle her breasts and even reached down and spread herself wide open. See that she asked me? That is what a real man wants not always jerking himself like a little boy. She even instructed me as i touched her. I assisted in her climax for the first time. After she even said it was a shame i did not have a real man’s body. She even tolerated me touching myself and squirtng on her belly and between her legs. This time she was gentle verbally. Asked me to get a towel and clean her up. The next time i did not act fearful. I got just as close and touched like i wanted. My world changed when she reached for me and pulled me onto her and had me rub against her. But she also mocked.me for how fast it happened and for not even being big enough or last long enough to get it inside. I was so hurt and angry. That night she woke when i climbed on her bed while she slept. I still remember how i hated her words. Look at you trying to be a man and take what you want. Just do what you are going to do with that dirty little thing and let me sleep. Not a word as i lay on her fumblimg for entry until she reached down and guided me into her. I was only just big eniugh to enter and get past the ring of muscle. It was unreal amd draining as i quickly climaxed inside her wet heat. Wben she told me to leave and go back to bed i knew i would be back. I was never allowed to stay the night in her bed but most nights i would walk in and she would just open her legs and tell me to do what i needed to do. I cannot imagine how many times this happened day after day. Silent resentful s** with grudging consent. All during high school. Frequently on the way to and from work when i got a job and moved out. Holidays. I would go over and she would be in the kitchen cooking and not even miss a beat. She would be wearing a dress and i would enter and stand behind her g**** her breasts and grind my hips against her and she would put her elbows on the counter, and i would grind against her spurting between her cheeks or thighs since even as an adult i am too small to enter from behind at all. Always told just do what you are going to do. All of it silent even as i cleaned her of my pathetic sin with a towel. Evem now when i pleasure myself i still see her looking at me with contempt, hear her telling me to just do what i need to do with that dirty little thing. I got therapy and finally broke free of my s***** addiction to her. But she is still the only one that i have had s** with and i am in my 40s now. I pay an e***** to hold me and be momny as i touch myself and she calls me her pathetic dirty little sicko and j*******.