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MasterMarc: Hi Razvan, nice to have the pussyboy back with us. We are living in a time in which human rights, emancipation and equality are important in our western society. But there are a lot of people who see the importance of it for the society but who want outside this system. You are one of thees fags! Can you tell us, how you feel if somebody is giving you the feeling of being inferior?

Razvan: Hi MasterMarc :). It’s good to be back. To tell you the truth in the right context I enjoy the feeling of being inferior. I am attracted to men who are more powerful than me in every way and who enjoy presenting me as the weaker one in the couple. In my work I’m very driven and am forced really to be quite competitive about it. But that’s not in my deepest nature. I want to be someone’s bitch and for others to know that I’m his bitch. I remember when I was a boy I went on an away match for the rugby team and my role was to provide oranges at half time. I remember telling the coach I enjoyed helping and supporting the other boys who were playing. Maybe that was my nascent pussyboy speaking :). For me, now, to give up control and to become subordinate to another man is to have a break from trying to be better than others. It’s to try and let the other Razvan out.

MasterMarc: Is it the other Razvan or is it the real Razvan? Look at you! I think that the bitch, the pussyboy, the feetlicker is the real Razvan. You love to surrender to the desires and needs of others. You feel complete and satisfied if another guy, who of course is taking care of you, uses you for his satisfaction, pleasure and needs. Or isn’t the satisfaction of needs of men you accept as superior the goal of your attention?

Razvan: My goal is to be the best boy I can be, and to love my man the best I can. I can’t do that by myself. I need him to encourage me and affirm me. I’m highly sensitive and can feel hurt quite easily. A stronger man offers me protection and emotional encouragement to love him. I like to take care of his needs, but I also like to be thanked and appreciated as well. Otherwise I feel used in a bad way 🙁 .

MasterMarc: If you feel that the humiliation is coming out of a good motivation, because he loves you and because he knows about your desires, isn’t it giving you a good feeling, an inferior feeling but at the same time feeling of a strong connection, a feeling of belonging and safety. A feeling that the other knows what you are and what you need?

Razvan: Yes, you could say that. I would want to feel that ultimately my man loves me deeply and wants to care for me and help me to be the best I can be in all spheres of life. Being verbally humiliated, or asked to strip etc. and inspected, let’s say, would be part of reality. What I mean by this is that all he says to me is how he sees me really being, so he’s just calling me names or telling me stuff about me which is true. In this sense this kind of verbal humiliation or play is part of deepening the relationship and clarifying the dynamics between us. Asking me ‘who’s the man in this relationship’ is both playful as well as helpful, so we are constantly communicating and understanding each other.

MasterMarc: I want you to look back and to share your humiliating experiences you have made. What have been your earliest experiences in that field? Can you tell us how it was to realise that you feel ashamed but at the same time also aroused. Tell us about different experiences in different ages and of course also how you have started to integrate that in your sexual life. Tell us how you have felt in all that situations, how ashamed you have been but also why you have liked it. Tell us also about negative experiences and why it hasn’t been a good experience and at the end we want also to know about your hottest experiences with humiliation. Let us see how the real Razvan is. We wanna see you “naked” and honest.

Razvan: Looking back on my life it’s hard to know if an experience is related to this issue of humiliation. When I was a small boy I had a tendency to run around naked, even in my classroom! At secondary school, locker rooms were always a site of potential embarrassment or deliberate humiliation. After swimming it seemed fun for some boys to whip away another boy’s towel and expose his pubescent equipment for all to see, but whether they were aroused by this I don’t know.

Then there were birthdays. Birthdays were days to dread as well as occasions for the gratification of secret desires, although I didn’t really understand them as desires at the time. Around the age of 14, boys started to wedgie each other on their birthdays. For those of you who are unfamiliar with wedgeeing, it’s basically where someone else grabs your underwear from behind you and rams it up your back, thereby wrenching the garment up your ass crack. Sometimes they would rip the underwear clean off a boy and hang it up on a common-room noticeboard as a kind of trophy. Everyone knew to wear their most inexpensive boxers on their birthday!

Like everyone else, I dreaded my birthday for this very reason. I remember one boy’s sixteenth and he was a boarder, so they went to his boarding house and somehow basically kidnapped him and brought him all the way to the day house and wedgied him there during morning break. People told me he cried.

To be frank, I wonder if some of this behaviour wasn’t teenage homoeroticism. The other boys mostly thought I was gay and I was always quieter and softer than them. Nobody tried very seriously to wedgie me. But I can remember one afternoon where I made my waistband especially visible to a boy I may have had a crush on, and I desperately wanted him to grab me by my boxers and ride them up my ass crack, in full view of everyone.
Perhaps you’d call it exhibitionism; I don’t know what I’d call it. Maybe it was a desire to be humiliated. Maybe it was a desire for contact. Boys of that age spend all their energy and time trying to convince each other they’re not gay and that they’re a real man.
I never had that desire. I never wanted to prove I was a man. I was always somehow outside project masculinity. I liked the jocks because they were confident in their bodies. I had a desire to serve them in some way. I wanted to touch masculinity. But at the same time I saw how fatuous such jocks often were and how unintelligent they could be; a conversation with them wouldn’t last long. It probably still wouldn’t.

During my mid-teen years I found an outlet through porn as well as my imagination and my fantasies. I tried to ignore the fact I might be gay and just treat it as fantasy; I’d never want to act on these desires, I told myself. But perhaps it was my submissiveness that really frightened me and in fact drove me deeper down a rabbit hole of secrecy and shame.
The more I desired to submit to an Alpha male, the more ashamed I felt, and the more underground I went, but at the same time the more the desire would surface and upset me. When I was 17 I once wore a thong into school and again, I wanted particular boys to see it peeking above my trousers. What I was hoping for from them I don’t know.

At home I’d try and film myself fucking my ass with a hairbrush (because I didn’t have a dildo to hand). I wanted to stare intensely at my face as I lay on my stomach and inserted the toy. What was happening to me? Why did I like being fucked? Why did I want another man to do this to me and help me be this person? How much of it was shaped by porn – and thus wired into me? And of that which was wired into me, how much was helpful, and how much debilitating?

So shame has never sat well with me, and I pray for the day I will be free of this burden, because even now shame can cripple me and prevent me from flowering into the boy I feel I can be. For me, shame is a feeling of disgust with oneself, sometimes for an unspecified reason, or because you feel yourself to be an untouchable. Shame always brings a person down and seeks to enslave that person to the very thing they are ashamed of.

My Christian faith has helped me to seek freedom from shame and to reach forth toward a more affirmative sense of self. But I realise now that I can’t do this by myself. I hope a man would see me and know what it is in me that needs to be affirmed. My desire to be ‘humiliated’ as a younger boy is part and parcel of being submissive, and this is to be affirmed as an integral part of my personality. But the shame which sometimes accompanies this, which leads me to a feeling of emptiness inside, needs to be rooted out once and for all.

Personally, I don’t need someone to tell me what a bad person I am or how worthless I am. I think that can only happen under extremely demarcated parameters and only with people who already have a strong sense of themselves as persons. But I suspect that many submissive boys aren’t like that – who are, like me, trying to heal from degrees of self-loathing. If you can imagine me for a moment packaged in a box for a new man, then the words FRAGILE: PERISHABLE CONTENTS WITHIN need to be pasted onto the outside.

A submissive boy is a thing of beauty – a delicate flower in God’s garden. While we might have elements of sexuality in common with one another, it’s crucial each of us is viewed in the light of our own circumstances and experiences and personalities. Growing into our sexuality means good communication, trust, and understanding with our men, as well as hope and love.

Yes, I do like to be humiliated sometimes, especially verbally or via inspection. I like to be spanked as a prelude to sex. I’d like it if my man sometimes asked me to strip and then proceeded to point out the ways in which I’m not a ‘real man’, and why he is etc. I’d like for him to enjoy putting me in my place, in that sense, but only so that I continue to feel at home in the sexuality I’ve often felt estranged from. If he speaks good English, I’d enjoy him calling me names during sex which might be interpreted as humiliating, such as ‘pussyboy’, or ‘bum boy’, or ‘cocksucker’ etc.

But these things can’t happen instantly. I, at least, need time to build up that trust.
And do I feel like a pussyboy every second of every day? No. Sometimes I can’t bear to suck cock or have a man stick one in me. Sometimes I need to be alone. Sometimes I need to jerk off. Occasionally I want to tell a man to be a better man – that he hasn’t a right to expect much of me and do so little to make himself desirable. When he seems to demand respect, I want to ask him who he thinks he is.

Such thoughts will no doubt sit a bit uncomfortably with men who see themselves as dominants or Alphas. Their egos are already massaged considerably by boys who are often unwilling or unable to address or even recognise their flaws and thus help them become better people. Let’s put it like this: am I willing to submit myself to a man who is fat, ugly, uncouth, boring, and uncultured, simply because he calls himself an Alpha and thereby demands that all ‘fags’ lay palm leaves at his feet?

(Many such men have tried.)

My sexuality is different to those who see themselves as slaves or subs. I need a great deal of affection and mutual respect and courtesy in a relationship. I want to grow old with this person and possibly have children during the years as well, and thus become a father. The relationship needs to be flexible enough to evolve according to the ways in which we evolve as people too. We both need to be working on ourselves as people – to be desirable and attractive to each other. And, shock horror! if that means in ten years time I no longer resonate with being a submissive boy, then so be it; likewise, if my man eventually decides to move on from identifying as a dominant, then that’s fine too. We’re not indelibly tied to these labels, these scripts, these roles.

Of course, I doubt such structural change is ever likely to happen. I suspect that being submissive and being dominant is something we’re born with. But this is only the beginning. Sexualities morph and dynamically transform over time, especially as new people come into our lives. The key thing is for both in the relationship to be open and humble to such winds of change, and not to hold on tenaciously to a slowly evaporating fantasy. Put starkly: if holding onto a pussyboy identification means losing my humanity by becoming an automaton, then the former has to go. The really risky thing to do then is to see where the future takes me. Who will I become?

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