Posted by Bob/Frank on August 9, 2005, 2:22 am That’s what I found myself saying when I came to realize what a problem I had with this. I remember when I was 18 years old, going to a public swimming pool, and when I was in the locker room changing, when I was naked in front of other guys and it didn’t matter, I kept finding this feeling coming over me, that it would somehow cause me a feeling of relief if some of the girls at the pool would come in and embarrass me by seeing me that way. When I got my swimsuit on and was in the water swimming, and I would see girls with swimming masks on looking under the water, visions would keep popping into my head of maybe swimming along and my trunks coming down from the movement or something, and the girls looking under the water with the swimming masks seeing. And instead of it causing me shame, I found the thought of it relieving. This kept happening. Well, one day, I gave in to the temptation. There were two girls there, about the same age I was, one with long, curly blonde hair in a red one-piece bathing suit, the other of a darker race with black hair, wearing a white bikini. I laid my swimming mask by the side of the pool, and the darker girl with the white swimsuit asked me if she could borrow it for a little while. I said “Sure,” and gave it to her. Maybe she had never looked under water with one before. When you’re used to how blurry it is swimming with your eyes open, the first time you look through a mask under water it looks amazing how clear everything is. She put it on, a little ways from me, went under the water with her head still at water level, looked sideways from the direction where I was, then started doing a panorama under the surface of the water. When she got to me, I pretended my crotch itched and that it itched so much I couldn’t alleviate the itch scratching it through my swimsuit. So I pulled my scrotum out the side of my swim trunks and began scratching it. I wondered if she would notice. She did. She kept staring. This surprised me. Somehow I wasn’t expecting her to stare. It surprised me also that it started giving me a hard erection. I pulled the rest of it out and it stood straight up, hard as rock, while I scratched it, trying to pretend that it itched and that I had no idea she was watching, so there would be a reason why I was taking it out. She kept staring under the water. For one brief moment, I couldn’t restrain myself from masturbating one or two yanks. As soon as I did that, I realized that that must have looked lewd (whereas up till that it could have been an honest accident), and I felt embarrassed that I had done that. I stuffed it all back in and started getting out of the pool. She came up, and with a sly smile, looked at me for a glance, then turned to her friend and began to whisper something in her ear. I got out and went into the dressing room immediately, into one of the toilet booths and masturbated, thinking about it as I did. As soon as I was finished, I felt HORRIBLY embarrassed. I went back out to the pool, and when I got in, she pointed at me and her friend laughed. I was SO embarrassed. Later, while I was wallowing around in the water, her friend, the blonde girl with the red swimsuit had the mask on, and almost deliberately facing me, she went under the water with it to take a look, in case maybe I was going to do it again. But no way! I was so embarrassed from it the first time, there was no way I was going to do that again! Well, in the weeks and months after that, the thought kept coming back to me. When I would masturbate, it would bring me so much satisfaction to remember that incident in vivid detail. Later it got to where I wanted to do it again sometime. That was when I began to say to myself, “My God, what’s WRONG with me? This kind of behavior just isn’t normal.” Well, one day after I had begun to get sloppy about it, I tried a maneuver similar to that one outside the water at a public beach. Instead of being interested, the girl went and told the lifeguard, and he called the police, who came and quietly arrested me. I was SO scared. I had never been in trouble with the police before about anything. The policeman at the police station told me that if I went for treatment, and he checked up on me that I was receiving treatment for it, he would let it go, legally. What choice did I have, but to begin treatment? Well, in treatment I began to learn a few things about myself that I didn’t know, like, for instance, how underneath, the reason an exhibitionist does it isn’t so much to get a reaction from the girl, much less to hurt her in any way, but rather, what they are doing is seeking to hurt themselves from it. He began to give me conditioning treatment, and that’s where I am now. I want to get rid of this thing. We’re working on it, and I know I’m going to succeed. I think this website is a good thing, because those of us who suffer from this problem can get together with others who are in the same boat, and it can work like a support group. I’ll be back on later, to tell how things are going with it. Bob _________________________ With you it started at 18? Mine started in childhood. I can still remember when I was just a little boy, my older sisters had their friends, girls about five, six, seven, over at our house when our parents weren’t home, and their friends wanted to see what a boy looked like, so my sisters told me I had to show them, telling me, “or we’ll tell Mommy and Daddy you were a bad boy and you’ll get a spanking when they get home.” So I showed their friends. I had no choice. At that age it didn’t occur to me to tell Mom and Dad the truth about how they were making me do it. After that, one day, I remember walking home from kindergarten, or maybe first grade, and two of the girls who were there that day, who were a year or two older than me, had some other friends with them, and I heard one of them say, “There’s Diane’s [all names changed] little brother. He’ll show us his penis if we tell him to. He has to.” Some of them put their hands over their mouths and giggled. They told me to come with them to the woods at the end of the street. When we were there, they told me to pull my pants down. I did, and they stared at it, some of them giggling, one pointing at it and saying, “That’s figs and that’s lipstick. See?” I don’t remember feeling like I was being abused by them, although certainly that’s what it amounted to. I always loved my mother and my sisters, and some of the girls around the block were my friends; my feelings toward the opposite sex were always positive feelings. To me the female gender always brought love and gentleness, while the male gender often brought conflicts and fighting. As I grew further into childhood, I was already feeling the idea that I would get some kind of pleasure in suffering the mental pain of exposing myself to girls. Like the guy above, my first time was at a swimming pool too. Our parents would often leave us alone at the swimming pool for hours, which we loved, because we loved swimming. I remember one evening when I was there alone. There weren’t many people at the pool that evening. I was in the men’s locker room alone, and I took off my swim trunks inside there. I had a hard erection. I must have been about 10 years old. There was no growth of pubic hair yet. There were two halls opposite each other going into the men’s and women’s dressing rooms. I decided as soon as a girl came out of the women’s room, I’d just act like I didn’t realize where the locker rooms ended, and come around the barrier naked long enough for her to see me that way. I waited, peeking around the corner, and finally a girl came out. She must have been about the same age I was, maybe about nine, 10, or 11. I walked out, and I remember clearly her eyes meeting my eyes, then looking down, her eyes getting big as they saw my erect penis, her mouth opening, then biting her bottom lip with an embarrassed smile on her face, and going on her way. Well, as you can guess, it turned into a serious problem with me later in life. In my late teenage years and early adulthood it led to spending time in jail several times for it. I’ve been to counseling, I’ve spoken with some of the others there who had the same problem, I’ve learned the “dish-treatment,” as we call it in exhibitionist slang, that is, the conditioning process, which I’m working at on my own now. One of my problems is when I’m masturbating. While I do it I try to think only of wholesome sex, sexual intercourse, with a girl, but sometimes it’s hard not to imagine either some of the times when girls have seen me, or making up in my mind some experiences of girls seeing my private part. I know whenever I do, and orgasm hits at that moment, it reinforces the tendency toward the behavior, but sometimes it’s so hard to avoid. I’m keeping on working at it. I think some good, useful discussions are likely to come up on this board, but I think we need to find a way to get more men in on it who have had this kind of problem. I think working on it together can really yield some positive results that won’t happen with each man alone all the time.
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Message modified by board administrator September 16, 2005, 5:56 am
My God, what’s wrong with me?
Posted by Bob on November, 14, 2000, 12:11 pm
You started at 18? Mine started in childhood
Posted by Frank on November, 25, 2000, 1:38 pm
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