Struggling with SPH

[Wookieboy]

When Humiliation Turns Erotic: Living with a Micropenis and the Strange Aftertaste of Shame

I have a micropenis. Measured accurately, it’s 3.25 inches long. That number has followed me for as long as I can remember in my adult life. Kids noticed. Adults noticed. Partners noticed. The teasing and hazing started early and never really stopped. It was constant, public, and often creative in its cruelty. For years the only thing I felt in those moments was pure, hot shame and the desperate wish to disappear.

Now I’m in my early thirties, and something has shifted. The humiliation still stings in the moment—sometimes it still makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. But later, hours or days afterward, the memory of it begins to feel different. It becomes charged. Interesting. Even erotic. I hate the experience while it’s happening, yet I find myself returning to it in my mind with a kind of fascinated arousal I never asked for.

One therapist suggested a straightforward explanation: when sexual activity (or sexual feelings) gets repeatedly paired with teasing and humiliation, the brain can start to link the two. What begins as pure pain can, over time, acquire an erotic charge through classical conditioning. The body learns that the spike of shame is followed by, or mixed with, sexual energy, and eventually the shame itself starts to trigger that energy.

That idea feels true, but incomplete. It’s not just simple conditioning. There’s also the way chronic humiliation shapes identity. When the thing you are most ashamed of is also the thing that makes you most visible, it can become the center of your erotic life whether you want it to or not. The micropenis stops being only a source of pain and becomes the stage on which every sexual script is performed. Teasing isn’t just something that happens to me—it becomes the language through which sex is spoken.

There’s a complicated grief in that. Part of me still wants the ordinary, uncomplicated desire that other people seem to get. Another part has grown attached to the intensity that only comes when the humiliation is real. The “later” erotic charge doesn’t erase the original wound; it just rewrites it into a different key. I still flinch when someone laughs. I still feel the old panic. And then, afterward, the same scene can play in my head and produce arousal instead of only pain.

I’m still trying to understand the difference between those two states—the live humiliation and the remembered, eroticized one. Is the later version a form of healing, a way the mind reclaims power over something that once felt powerless? Or is it simply another layer of the same wound, dressed up as kink? Maybe it’s both at once.

What I know for certain is that the shift happened gradually, and it happened without my permission. I didn’t choose to find the teasing erotic. It arrived the way any conditioning does—quietly, through repetition, until one day the old shame started carrying a new charge. Naming that process doesn’t make it less confusing, but it does make it less lonely. There are other people walking around with the same strange aftertaste of humiliation that has somehow become desire.

I’m writing this because I want to understand it more clearly, and because I suspect I’m not the only one living in that particular gap between the hate-it-now and the can’t-stop-thinking-about-it-later.

I know this is a forbidden topic on here, but it is a real thing.

One therapist put it more bluntly than the others. She looked at me and said, essentially: stop punishing yourself for finding SPH erotic. Whether the attraction was “originally” yours or whether it was grafted onto you by years of teasing, it is now part of you. Trying to surgically remove the erotic charge from the shame is like trying to un-live the experiences that created it. You can examine it, you can decide how much space you give it, but feeling ashamed of the shame-turned-desire only adds another layer of self-attack.

That landed harder than I expected. For a long time I treated the later erotic response as evidence that I was broken in a new way—first I was defective for having a 3.25-inch penis, then I was defective for getting off on the memory of being mocked for it. The therapist’s point was that both of those judgments are still operating inside the same system of self-rejection. Accepting the erotic charge doesn’t mean I have to seek out live humiliation or that I have to like the original pain. It only means I stop treating the after-effect as further proof of my unworthiness.

I’ve tested that idea in small ways. When the memory surfaces and the familiar mix of residual shame and unexpected arousal appears, I try not to immediately moralize about it. I notice it the way I might notice any other automatic response—my body doing what it has learned to do. Sometimes the noticing itself softens the secondary shame. Other times the secondary shame still wins for a while. Progress is uneven.

What feels useful about the therapist’s framing is that it refuses the false choice between “this is authentic desire” and “this is just trauma.” Both can be true at the same time. The eroticization may have been conditioned, but the conditioning happened inside my nervous system, shaped by my history, and now lives in my body. Pretending it isn’t mine only keeps me at war with myself. Accepting it as part of who I am—without having to celebrate it or expand it—creates a little more room to breathe.

[The Jester]

An excellent account of these feeling and experiences Wookie, especially as they're difficult to talk about here r.e. the rules/people's feelings.

I've tried before, but tended to go off into acting out descriptions, or terms people found difficult( dom and sub, Masochism etc), or complex theories.

You've done it really well though, from a personal lived perspective.

You're quite right the process isn't just conditioned response (Skinner's Behaviourism).

Also it can effect anyone:it has me and I'm big!. The mechanism is the same, the focus just slightly different. Can be on "too small", "too big", sexual performance, clothes/fetish, gender/sexuality,a person!- whatever.

There are dangers with these feelings, which are emphasised here. But you seem to be facing them head on, and working through them. Well done

Jester.

[Appreciater]

...

In a vague way, this would appear as a form of Stockholm syndrome.  ...  After so long it becomes accepted.

[Wookieboy]

 The One Memory That Still Owns Me

I’m Wookieboy. I have a micropenis. Fully hard I’m 3.25 inches, and that number has defined more of my sex life than I ever wanted it to.

When people ask which incident I think about most when I fantasize about small-penis humiliation, it isn’t the usual online SPH clips or the casual comments from partners. It’s one specific night during Hell Week.

The Dick Check

They lined the pledges up and did a formal “dick check” in the frat house basement,  Everyone got measured erect. I came in last—smallest in the group, and according to the brothers who kept records, the smallest anyone in the fraternity had ever measured. They said it out loud, laughed, and decided the consequence right there: because I had the smallest dick, I would suck every other pledge in the line.

That night stretched on for hours.

I remember being on my knees on the hard floor. The smell of their crotches—sweat, soap, the faint chemical edge of someone who had jerked off earlier to “prepare.” The different tastes of their dicks. Some were clean, some weren’t. The taste of their cum when they finished. Different brothers came in different qualities, different tastes, and different textures. Brothers stood behind me and held my head so I couldn’t pull away. At one point they laid me on my back on a table with my head hanging off the edge so my throat was open. That made the face-fucking easier for them. One brother clamped a device on my balls—two metal panels with bolts that he tightened until the pressure was constant and sharp. It stayed on the entire time. I wasn’t allowed to stop until the last guy was done.

The next morning I was sick. My balls still ached with that deep, bruised throb. My stomach was sour. My mouth tasted like I’d been used as a cum rag. I could still feel the stretch in my throat.

Why This One?

I don’t fully understand why this is the memory I return to when I want to get off to SPH. I’ve had other humiliations since then—partners who laughed, who measured me, who told me I was useless for real sex. None of them hit the same nerve.

Maybe it’s because it was total. There was no negotiation, no safe word, no performance of consent that I could hide behind. My size was treated as an objective fact that justified everything that followed. The brothers didn’t just mock the measurement; they turned the measurement into a job I had to perform with my mouth while my own dick stayed ignored and locked in pain. The ball-crusher made sure I couldn’t even get lost in the physical sensation of sucking—I stayed aware of how small and vulnerable I was the whole time.

In fantasy, I replay the line of cocks, the different smells and tastes, the way my head was held, the way my throat was opened on that table, the constant ache in my balls. I remember being the smallest on record and therefore the one who had to service everyone else. The fact that some of them had already jerked off so they could last longer only makes it worse in my head—and better when I’m stroking my own tiny dick to the memory.

I still don’t have a clear psychological explanation. Part of me thinks the intensity of the shame burned the scene into permanent erotic storage. Another part thinks the forced service confirmed something I already feared about my size: that it made me useful only as a mouth. Either way, when I want pure SPH, this is the night I go back to. The measurement. The order. The knees. The smells. The taste. The clamp. The morning after when my body still belonged to what they had done to it.

That’s the one that still owns me.

[Appreciater]

I would definitely say that you have a deeply seated PTSD from being gang raped.!!   ("It's my fault. ... It's because of my dick that this happened to me, so it's my fault. ... I allowed myself to get into this situation, so it's my fault it happened..  I failed to deny them this abuse, so it's my fault. ... )

You were gang raped, and there's no other term for it.!!  ...   No wonder it left such a deep cut into your psyche. 

There is never an excuse for raping someone, let alone when condoned by an organization.!!   Their gang rape of you is far far Far beyond a crime...and is THOROUGHLY disgusting.  And that is not a strong enough term.!!   🤬

Damn the SOBs!!!!

[NuderThanNude]

7 hours ago, Wookieboy said:

 The One Memory That Still Owns Me

I’m Wookieboy. I have a micropenis. Fully hard I’m 3.25 inches, and that number has defined more of my sex life than I ever wanted it to.

When people ask which incident I think about most when I fantasize about small-penis humiliation, it isn’t the usual online SPH clips or the casual comments from partners. It’s one specific night during Hell Week.

The Dick Check

...

I still don’t have a clear psychological explanation. Part of me thinks the intensity of the shame burned the scene into permanent erotic storage. Another part thinks the forced service confirmed something I already feared about my size: that it made me useful only as a mouth. Either way, when I want pure SPH, this is the night I go back to. The measurement. The order. The knees. The smells. The taste. The clamp. The morning after when my body still belonged to what they had done to it.

That’s the one that still owns me.

Were you tied or handcuffed to an immovable object where you couldn't leave. I hate to say it but it sounds like something you allowed to happen. Did you say "NO" or refuse to open your mouth???????

I know a lot here will feel sorry for you (and depending on the actual conditions, I would also) but I have to wonder if maybe it was something that deep down inside you wanted to happen ant this justify your allowing it to happen.

I sit here asking myself what I would have done in that situation. I believe it is not something I would ask to have done but deep down inside it is an erotic situation (fantasy) and when else would I get to suck so many dicks (which I normally wouldn't admit but fantasize doing). So it would be one of those things that I wouldn't want to happen but deep down inside I would want to. Being that it was part of the pledge I would justify it by saying that I needed to do it and didn't have a choice (even if I really did). So the question is would I allow it to happen. Being as adventurous as I am - I probably would - even if I was being humiliated. Kind of like a BDSM event. Would I admit after the fact that I enjoyed it - probably not.

Edited August 10 by NuderThanNude

[Wookieboy]

2 hours ago, NuderThanNude said:

Were you tied or handcuffed to an immovable object where you couldn't leave. I hate to say it but it sounds like something you allowed to happen. Did you say "NO" or refuse to open your mouth???????

Honesty, I spend more time angry at myself for cooperating instead of walking out the door.  

I know a lot here will feel sorry for you (and depending on the actual conditions, I would also) but I have to wonder if maybe it was something that deep down inside you wanted to happen ant this justify your allowing it to happen.

Like I said above, I still am angry at myself for not walking out.  Iii was Legacy, and my dad had paid for me to be in the house.   No one needs to be sympathetic.  

sit here asking myself what I would have done in that situation. I believe it is not something I would ask to have done but deep down inside it is an erotic situation (fantasy) and when else would I get to suck so many dicks (which I normally wouldn't admit but fantasize doing). So it would be one of those things that I wouldn't want to happen but deep down inside I would want to.

There were so many things on my mind back then.  Not embarrassing my father by failing.  And a part of me believed I deserved it. 

Being that it was part of the pledge I would justify it by saying that I needed to do it and didn't have a choice (even if I really did). So the question is would I allow it to happen. Being as adventurous as I am - I probably would - even if I was being humiliated. Kind of like a BDSM event. Would I admit after the fact that I enjoyed it - probably not.

One of the things we discover is that reality is never what the fantasy promised.   Reality is always something else entirely.   I don't know if i made it clear, as difficult as it wascucking off so many guys in one night, it wasnt sucking dicks that was the problem, its the way i wasdisrespected and rtreated like the low man on the totem pole.

There is every reason to accuse me.  I wonder those same things. But the point of this section is,  given that it was a traumatic moment,  why on earth would I have erotic dreams about it now?

[Appreciater]

....

... I am far from a psychologist, @Wookieboy.. however..since it was such a traumatic and publicity humiliating act of both physical and psychological rape, it has been stamped deeply into the recesses of your mind.  ...  Your protective mechanisms are trying to link the terrible aspects of it to the pleasurable.  In this way, your system is trying to rationalize this thing that happened and lessen it's wound on you.

You must keep in mind that you were very egregiously singled out by those who you should have been able to trust as fraternal "Brothers", and turned on in a degrading way.   ... All aspects of things sexual should be enjoyable and good... Not turned into the demonic criminal display.

 

 

[NuderThanNude]

1 hour ago, Wookieboy said:

One of the things we discover is that reality is never what the fantasy promised.   Reality is always something else entirely.   I don't know if i made it clear, as difficult as it wascucking off so many guys in one night, it wasnt sucking dicks that was the problem, its the way i wasdisrespected and rtreated like the low man on the totem pole.

There is every reason to accuse me.  I wonder those same things. But the point of this section is,  given that it was a traumatic moment,  why on earth would I have erotic dreams about it now?

I still haven't quite figured a lot of this out myself. Oddly, for a fantasy to have any excitement and meaning to me it has to be something I feel I would like but at the same time not really want to do or have happen... but at the same time it has to have the possibility of happening. If it was something that never would happen It wouldn't interest me at all.

I can try to give you an example. When I was a young prepubescent boy I used to have dreams at night of forgetting to get dressed for school and being in the school yard naked talking to a group of girls, not realizing I was naked, until I wondered why I they were giggling to each other. Now thats not something I would do intentionally but if someone told me they would give me $10,000 if I would, well...

So later in life when I had my pubic and body hair permanently removed and felt like I had regained my boyhood body again that fantasy of being seen naked returned. But as much as I would be terrified being seen naked I wanted to be seen. So I started gradually testing the idea to make the fantasy more real. I would get naked and walk around on a wooded trail where there might be an occasional person walking. Each time I got more daring. What I found was that every time I saw someone coming from a distance I would run and hide. The fantasy began to have no meaning because I knew I would never allow myself to be seen. That was when I realized I needed to be forced or have no choice but to be seen. I developed a way I could be constrained to a tree naked with my back to the tree so I was fully exposed if someone happened to pass by during that time. The first several times I tried it I was released before anyone passed by but the whole time I was constrained I was hoping nobody would pass by but at the same time I was hoping they would.

Then finally one day it happened and a middle age man walked by and spotted me. He stood there for a couple minutes looking at me. I was absolutely petrified. It wasn't the sexual excitement I had hoped for. Then he walked over to me and asked me what happened. I told him it was part of an club initiation that I had agreed to. He asked if I wanted help getting free and I said "no" as I needed to wait for the club members to return and bring my clothes. He said OK and before turning and walking away complemented me on my boyish body.

It wasn't until that happened that I realized all the bad things that could have happened so I never did that again. As I look back I have mixed feelings. Shock over what happened but at the same time sexual excitement over being seen naked and helpless..

Edited August 10 by NuderThanNude

[NuderThanNude]

20 minutes ago, Appreciater said:

....

... I am far from a psychologist, @Wookieboy.. however..since it was such a traumatic and publicity humiliating act of both physical and psychological rape, it has been stamped deeply into the recesses of your mind.  ...  Your protective mechanisms are trying to link the terrible aspects of it to the pleasurable.  In this way, your system is trying to rationalize this thing that happened and lessen it's wound on you.

You must keep in mind that you were very egregiously singled out by those who you should have been able to trust as fraternal "Brothers", and turned on in a degrading way.   ... All aspects of things sexual should be enjoyable and good... Not turned into the demonic criminal display.

 

 

Unfortunately the context of what happened was necessary as a part of difficulty of becoming a member of the group. Hopefully once he became a member their feelings toward him would have changed. The good news was that no physical harm was done to him. I've had some pretty embarrassing things happen to me to be able to become a member of groups and just shrugged them off. Nevertheless,  I'm not saying I condone what happened to him but secretly I would have taken his place. I probably would have been better off afterward though, as I always had a high level of self esteem and self confidence.

[NuderThanNude]

1 minute ago, NuderThanNude said:

Unfortunately the context of what happened was necessary as a part of difficulty of becoming a member of the group. Hopefully once he became a member their feelings toward him would have changed. The good news was that no physical harm was done to him. I've had some pretty embarrassing things happen to me to be able to become a member of groups and just shrugged them off. Nevertheless,  I'm not saying I condone what happened to him but secretly I would have taken his place. I probably would have been better off afterward though, as I always had a high level of self esteem and self confidence.

 

1 hour ago, Wookieboy said:

as difficult as it wascucking off so many guys in one night, it wasnt sucking dicks that was the problem, its the way i wasdisrespected and rtreated like the low man on the totem pole.

I get that - but this is the sort of things that happen in those kinds of situations and should be expected. I think it's childish but who am I to criticize? As the saying goes... "what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger". As long as no physical harm is being done it is the "sticks and stones..." scenario. If one cannot tolerate such things they shouldn't put them in situations where it is known to happen. I've said it before - it is important to go through life having earned a high level of self esteem and self confidence and a lack of concern over what others think.

[smokeylink]

I'm afraid to even begin to try to make sense of that situation and try to make some great analytical gesture. I just want to say that it was very well written and I can certainly relate to portions of it. But I've never had anything even remotely close to your experience. I'll bet all those who were involved think back on it now with deep seeded guilt. I wish you well my friend.

[JohnS1960]

1 hour ago, NuderThanNude said:

As long as no physical harm is being done it is the "sticks and stones..

So psychological harm doesn't count....PTSD?

 

1 hour ago, NuderThanNude said:

If one cannot tolerate such things they shouldn't put them in situations where it is known to happen.

Victim Blaming?

[NuderThanNude]

31 minutes ago, JohnS1960 said:

So psychological harm doesn't count....PTSD?

There is a difference between undergoing a traumatic event such as fighting in a war or being in an accident vs hearing someone's words. You have full control as to if you pay any heed to what someone says to you and how you let it affect you. You cannot harm someone with your words if they don't care what you say.

Victim Blaming?

You are only a victim if it is done to you with physical force or if you tell that person NO or STOP and they do it anyway.

Otherwise you need to take responsibility for your actions. If you join a club knowing there is an initiation or hazing it's your own fault if you are degraded or humiliated as part of it. Even them you have the choice to leave and not join.

 

 

[canuck45]

2 minutes ago, NuderThanNude said:

There is a difference between undergoing a traumatic event such as fighting in a war or being in an accident vs hearing someone's words.

Sorry, I meant the physical acts, not the words, should have been clearer.
The ball clamp, head forced over the edge of table for throat fucking.

Hazing: any action or activity expected of someone joining or staying in a group that humiliates, degrades, abuses, or endangers them
Consent does not excuse it: People often say a victim agreed to join in. Peer pressure and the deep wish to belong mean a person cannot give true free consent.

[Gezr69]

3 hours ago, canuck45 said:

Hazing: any action or activity expected of someone joining or staying in a group

Even when you have no Interest in Joining such Groups, you can still become Sport for the Egos of the Members.

There's no choice is resisting the Bully Gang approach.
Fear over-rides any response in my personal experiences.

[NuderThanNude]

4 hours ago, canuck45 said:

Sorry, I meant the physical acts, not the words, should have been clearer.
The ball clamp, head forced over the edge of table for throat fucking.

Hazing: any action or activity expected of someone joining or staying in a group that humiliates, degrades, abuses, or endangers them
Consent does not excuse it: People often say a victim agreed to join in. Peer pressure and the deep wish to belong mean a person cannot give true free consent.

Hazing: I never bothered with any of those organizations when I was in college. The guys who belonged to them were philosophically different than myself so there would have been a major clash. I know they have all kinds of rituals for new members - not my thing - but I don't have a problem with what others want to do as long as there is no physical harm or force involved. I could personally take the humiliation and degrading during a initiation as long as it was not a permanent thing or forced on me against my will. I can even accept new members being of a lower class for a period of time. Nevertheless, my decision was to not get involved in them as they had nothing to offer me.

Consent: Is just that regardless of one's reasons for giving consent as long as it isn't force. If you are the type of person to allow 'peer pressure' or a 'wish to belong' to influence your decisions in life you should get what you deserve. It's all a value judgement as how important that 'need to belong' is vs the potential 'consequences'.

Nevertheless, anyone who inflicts physical harm to another individual should be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Edited August 10 by NuderThanNude

[JasonBeam]

Having been in the military, I know a thing or two about hazing. This was not hazing, it was sexual assult.

[NuderThanNude]

7 hours ago, JasonBeam said:

Having been in the military, I know a thing or two about hazing. This was not hazing, it was sexual assult.

Being "sexual assault" is a matter of 'personal' perspective. As Wookieboy said "it wasnt sucking dicks that was the problem, its the way i was disrespected and treated like the low man on the totem pole.".

I am the type of person that has to try everything at least once so I probably would have agreed to and went along with it. In a sense...  no different than a hotdog eating contest.

Edited August 11 by NuderThanNude

[Wookieboy]

22 hours ago, NuderThanNude said:

 

 I've said it before - it is important to go through life having earned a high level of self esteem and self confidence and a lack of concern over what others think.

Truer words were never spoken.

[The Jester]

6 hours ago, NuderThanNude said:

Being "sexual assault" is a matter of 'personal' perspective. As Wookieboy said "it wasnt sucking dicks that was the problem, its the way i was disrespected and treated like the low man on the totem pole.".

I am the type of person that has to try everything at least once so I probably would have agreed to and went along with it. In a sense...  no different than a hotdog eating contest.

 

 

23 hours ago, canuck45 said:

Sorry, I meant the physical acts, not the words, should have been clearer.
The ball clamp, head forced over the edge of table for throat fucking.

Hazing: any action or activity expected of someone joining or staying in a group that humiliates, degrades, abuses, or endangers them
Consent does not excuse it: People often say a victim agreed to join in. Peer pressure and the deep wish to belong mean a person cannot give true free consent.

 

3 hours ago, Wookieboy said:

Truer words were never spoken.

Truer words were never spoken, but that's different from the idea that these things don't deeply effect us.

I suffer from PTSD. These traumatic things which cause it:wars, and other kinds of fighting, witnessing violence, sexual violence and abuse, people being hurt or humiliated, or being hurt or killed (some of which I've experienced, and some not), aren't seperate or distinct from the trauma they induce.The harms of the things themselves and the psychological effects afterwards both have a very bad effect.

working through those things, to reach a point where we reach a place where what others have done, or we feel we allowed them to do, ceases to make us feel ashamed or traumatised is very different from claiming that they never had a hold on us in the first place...

For example, we may start drinking alcohol, and saying to ourselves I just drink: I'm not traumatised, but the trauma is often why we drink too much. It's just been repressed. 

I'm afraid I'm one of the people here who feels that extreme ritualised hazing like this, has crossed the line into actual abuse. Could I ask @Wookieboy,what institution was this at ( will understand if you don't want to say) where you even over the age of consent ( I know it's ofen 21 in the States for example)?.

 

Edited August 11 by The Jester

[Wookieboy]

2 minutes ago, The Jester said:

 

 

 

...

I suffer from PTSD. These traumatic things which cause it:wars, and other kinds of fighting, witnessing violence, sexual violence and abuse, people being hurt or humiliated, or being hurt or killed (some of which I've experienced, and some not), aren't seperate or distinct from the trauma they induce.The harms of the things themselves and the psychological effects afterwards both have a very bad effect.

.

.

Thank you for sharing this. You’re right — the traumatic events themselves and the psychological aftermath aren’t separate things. They’re connected, and both carry real harm.

Hazing in a fraternity can involve humiliation, physical harm, forced degradation, and a complete loss of control. For some of us, those experiences don’t stay in the past. They leave lasting effects that show up as PTSD symptoms years later. The fact that the original acts were “just college” or “tradition” doesn’t make the damage any less real. I  appreciate you naming the range of things that can cause this — war, violence, sexual abuse, humiliation, witnessing harm. Those experiences aren’t ranked by some hierarchy of legitimacy. What matters is the impact they leave on the person who lived through them.  The good news is we survived.  The bad news is those memories are forever.

I’m sorry you’ve had to carry this. You’re not alone in it.

 

 

[NuderThanNude]

A rational mind learns and moves on. A rational mind doesn't get involved in such worthless organizations. A rational mind understands the dangers and doesn't expose oneself to those potential dangers. A rational mind has self confidence and internal strength and understands that words can only harm them if they let them. When I hear someone try to degrade or humiliate me I just think to myself. You are a stupid A__Hole that hasn't a clue as to what you are talking about - because I know better.

Wookieboy may not have known better at the time but he learned a lesson and instead of letting it haunt him he needs to use that knowledge to be a smarter and a more 'world wise' person. Life is full of similar learning situations which is why we should get wiser as we get older.

I won't even spend anymore of my valuable time on frats and hazing. It's just more of the high school bullies justifying doing the same thing in college as they did in high school.

Edited August 12 by NuderThanNude

[I Didnt Grow Much]

This is not directed at anyone in particular, but gosh, can we drop it with analyzing the choices young men/older boys make at 18? Please show more sensitivity.

First, possibly as a disqualification for being able to figure out if I could’ve made one choice or the other about joining a fraternity, I have never been able to drink very much alcohol or it makes me sick, like throw up sick, so I guess I’m lucky. But for everyone else, how often do you think frat initiation doesn’t begin with drinking enough alcohol to make Barney from The Simpsons pass out, then continue on every day until it’s over? People can’t drive at .08 levels of alcohol, so around that level or above, what makes anyone think you can make good decisions as a teenager?

Counseling young guys for a long time now, I’ve read about this a few times before, and have tried help quite a number of guys to figure out if a frat was right for them. Most who join and continue counseling have said they love it. However, there are the guys who come in because while they love part of it, there’s another part they hate but can’t escape for whatever reason. Believe me, they’re almost always the ones with some type of an anomaly, public or hidden, that ends them up on the wrong end of the “fun” side of frat life. 

The decision to join a frat isn’t first considered the day before they’re taking names to join. For some it’s the fact their father or grandfather belonged, for most it’s probably a way to screw around, screw, have fun, and get drunk, all behind the anonymity of four walls and locked doors that are not directly a part of the university the way a dorm hall is. Further, it is, for some, a much easier way to make friends if you are a little bit shy or standoffish, but still the type of guy they’re looking for. The stereotype of course is the jock, and/or Animal House cast of characters type.

It has been posited you will find larger numbers of boys without dads who lived at home, or certainly with no dad at all, looking for frat acceptance. One of the last, and maybe the least heard about, and possibly the most understandable group to join in a way, are those who were sexually molested/assaulted as boys. This doesn’t mean every abused boy wants to join, but a rather large percentage, at least traditionally, have or have tried. If you think boys without fathers are looking for a family of guys to fill that void, think about boys who have been sexually abused. If I were to describe the near universal, unifying dream of this group it would be a clique of becoming-adult guys, who are in the same place at the same time all the time, living in a big house together (so friends everywhere all the time) with some but little adult supervision, but more importantly a place to make lifelong friends, improve job opportunities, have guys who can help you through college and with relationships and jobs during and after college, to be invited automatically to the best parties, have an easier time finding girls to date/screw, and being busy enough all the time that it might help push some of the pain to the back of your mind, or even help lock it away somewhere, at least for the short term. 

At the beginning of pledge week, we’re likely talking about an 18 year-old guy/boy, depending upon the decisions they’re making at that age, who is really drunk, looking to enter, and for those who are accepted, will find what in their mind is Nirvana, and no, not the band. These guys have likely heard the horror stories, prayed they weren’t true, crossed their fingers and said something like, “I’m gonna do everything they ask, no matter what, so I’m sure to get in. Nothing is gonna make me walk away from this.”

I’ll share with you two stories about guys in this situation, both whom I’ve counseled in the past, who also said I could share their stories, but that their names or any significant bit of information that might identify them. One, a guy who ran away as fast as he could, and another who stayed and suffered for the acceptance of his family and possible job opportunities. I would have to suffer from dementia to forget these two guys.

I’ll call the first one, “Bill.” Bill was a bit better than average looking, dressed up very nicely, and had dated and been active in high school. His background, an upper middle class family, were traditionally Jewish, but not practicing in any way, and without sounding racist, someone who would never have been picked out as being Jewish by his looks. Although he thought things were going well, after a couple of days, and I must assume because the heads of the frat knew he was Jewish and they didn’t want to make room for him, for whatever reason, around the middle of the week Bill’s choice was to drop out or agree to have someone remove his foreskin with a pair of children’s scissors. Frat problem solved.

The other, a good looking guy, let’s say 7 out of 10, no model, but there were girls who asked him out in high school. Very intelligent, full ride scholarship plus enough extra money to have some fun every month, socially a bit above average, lettered in a non-group sport in high school. His family background, middle class but could not afford college, fairly serious Christians but nothing like Amish, and his grandfather had been in the same frat, but not the father, who didn’t go to college. The grandfather had passed away, but the family expected the boy to follow in the grandfather‘s footsteps. I’ll call him, “James.” 

To keep things moving as quickly as possible, without missing anything important, during pledge week the leaders announced James was a virgin, did not date, and did not masturbate because he said he was saving himself for marriage. So, he and all the other pledges were required to strip, face the crowd, and masturbate while being timed. They were told the loser was going to be very sorry. James said he tried, even though he felt very guilty, but knew his family was counting on him. Too nervous, he couldn’t even keep an erection, let alone ejaculate. They had their loser.

However, James believed because he was a legacy pledge, meaning his grandfather had been a member and therefore it was going to be tough not to accept him, and he did make it in, but not before numerous other humiliations throughout the week, many violating things he said he believed in but felt too much pressure not to comply with. From my understanding, most of the punishment is supposed to come during pledge week, but I found out not all of it was. At an upcoming party, James was required to be fully nude and greet people at the door, which he reluctantly complied with. At a following party he was completely nude again and required to go around asking everyone if they wanted to play with his dick, and any visitors who wanted to did, but all the first year frat members had to try to give him an erection and make him ejaculate. He complied again.

He never knew if they were trying to break him or not. A couple of days before some huge party, first year brothers were all required to start taking laxatives, which they were told was some kind of contest. Before the party started, James was blindfolded, taken upstairs, and given some kind of huge enema. He said he couldn’t keep it from going in because it was warm and the gravity won out. He was told to hold his bowels and was immediately taken to a bathroom and defecated. The process was repeated until there was nothing left but water. James said he tried fighting a bit but knew he couldn’t get out of it and was afraid he would be beaten.

He didn’t have to hang out in the party area at all because he was taken to some type of den. Some strong guys tied his feet, stretched far apart by some type of bar, and his hands were bound. He was then bent over a low piece of furniture and tied to it all the way back to his legs. His anus and penis were greased up heavily, and I’m not sure what you call it but he said he was finger raped. As it turns out, girls were offered money if they could get him to ejaculate. That wasn’t the worst of it. James couldn’t see who they were, but he was raped repeatedly that night, and left that night in that position. Someone had the job of giving him liquids and some food. He had to call out if he needed to pee. The laxatives and enemas had taken care of any possible bowel movements. The next morning he was raped and finger raped a few more times. Then set free and warned what would happen if he told about it.

He had to be carried to his bed, was bleeding anally, and from some scratches on his penis and scrotum. I assume fearing police involvement, some type of medical person came in, did what they could for him, prescribed medication, and returned every couple of days for, if I remember correctly, about a week. His memory of her was that she was kind, and really pissed off, but not at him. He said she was gentle and after her last visit he was given a phone number to call in case he needed to see her again. James spent four years in that frat, but had spoken to the adult in charge of the house, gave sketchy details, and while there were other sexual situations he was forced to be involved in, he was not forced to perform sexual acts on anyone, or have anyone perform them on him. 

Back then, there were no laws about required reporters. James made it a condition of counseling that a very legal looking and sounding piece of paper be signed before he would begin. The agency was only told he had been hurt badly, and it showed in his countenance. Based on my background, I was asked to work with him, told what they had been told, and was given the option to opt out. I wanted to work with him. At the point he was looking for counseling, it was months after the incident. I would be lying if I said I didn’t cry every night after his sessions for at least a couple of months, occasionally after that. It was gut-wrenching, and dragged up what had happened to me over and over. Halfway through our first session, pictures of seventh grade PE shower in my head, I promised myself I would keep working with him.

I had no idea, even though I asked my manager quite a few times, why he wasn’t sent on to a professional. This was way beyond my training, but I was given help, so much help, or I wouldn’t have been able to help him, or made it through myself. James didn’t tell me until after he graduated, and stayed in touch regularly, that it was another boy who gave him my name. I’d considered quitting after he graduated and turning the frat in, but knew James would never testify, and was told it would instantly cause a lawsuit, meaning the counseling service would likely be shut down. I considered quitting, but wondered how many more kids like James were out there. My only consolation was I never heard a story anywhere near as bad as that again.

James and I still talk occasionally, he started professional counseling not too long after finishing graduate school, is extremely successful in his chosen field, and has a family he is extremely proud of, and is so thankful for. Unexpectedly, his wife call to invite me to his surprise 50th birthday party, and said they were beyond happy together. She mentioned it had been a very long time since he had any outward symptoms. When he saw me at the party he had some tears in his eyes, and asked me to follow him to another room. He hugged me and said thank you. We were able to talk for just a few minutes, and I was so happy to see him doing so well. Of course, I started crying and had to go to the bathroom before I could look presentable and return to the party. I know, I’m a wuss. I try always to be thankful some young guys have great resilience, and am humbled by the fact some don’t make it.

As time passes, many of these stories have come out in the media, but usually only when someone dies. The governing body over all fraternities and sororities in the US and Canada, with 56 separate member organizations, has 4000 chapters located on over 800 campuses, with approximately 350,000 undergraduate students every year. Of course, the overwhelming majority come out fairly unscathed, then there are Bill and James, and on rare occasion, those who die.

I hope this explains my ask at the beginning of the post to just please lighten up on any judgment as to why any college freshman joins, or stays in, a fraternity or sorority. Further, I can’t say more than that about the two guys I mentioned, so please don’t ask.

I would prefer no one comments about any of this unless, beyond a scintilla of doubt, you believe what you have to say might help someone else. I am also not interested at all in any thumbs up or whatever all that other stuff is called, so please avoid it. I would be very surprised if we do not have a number of other guys on this site who have been through some type of similar situation, college or not. Whether you choose to be somewhere or not does not mean you chose to be sexually assaulted.

[Appreciater]

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All my life my attitude has been that ALL frats and sororities should be banned from all campuses. 

To me..  I have always considered them to be no better than glorified Mafia gangs with their own very questionable purposes.