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Singapore Home-Based Massage List ( H M L ) For Men Updated 15/1/2015

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      Chapter 1
      Earliest Memories

      I'd love to say that the earliest memories of my existence are full of love and tender loving care, but they're not.

      I was around 3-5 years old then, and at my maternal grandparents' place. The precipitating incident now eludes me, but whatever it was, it greatly displeased my father.

      Like a crazed man, he grabbed this bawling, trashing boy up from the floor and proceeded up the stairs of the terrace house, all the while violently slapping the buttocks.

      I recall grandpa repeatedly shouting at him in Chinese, "What the hell are you doing? You're scaring my grandson!", but to no avail.

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      We reached the top of the stairs, entered one of the rooms, the door was slammed shut, and... I haven't the faintest idea what happened thereafter.

      Like those dreams where you fall from a cliff and you never get to know how you meet your end.

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      Chapter 2
      I'm one of those kids whose parents "outsourced" their caregiving duties once they were able to.

      The first such caregiver would be my babysitter, whom I affectionately called 阿婆.

      What I'm able to recall now are many happy moments playing with physical toys (no such thing as mobile apps back then) and hours entertaining myself by painstakingly creating (and destroying) domino structures.

      阿婆 was Chinese educated, and an avid 苏芮 fan at that, so songs like《酒干倘卖无》and《一样的月光》were on heavy rotation. These two songs in particular are songs which I enjoy singing in KTV joints even till this day, especially when I wanna go all out and vocally exhaust myself haha!

      She had her eagle eyes trained on me most of the time, but there was once when I somehow stuffed a coin cell deep within the recesses of my nose (not arse thankfully) and it got stuck!

      I bawled away while frantic 阿婆 called the ambulance and my parents.

      The next thing I remember was being wheeled into the operating theatre, where the doctor, bless him, managed to extract the cell with just a pair of forceps.

      To this day, my mother still jokes about how my nose is permanently larger on one side (it ain't true I swear!) because of the stuffed battery.

      Chapter 3
      Throughout my life, I've been consistently taller than most of my peers. Noooo, it ain't thanks to basketball. I narrowed it down to a combination of genetics (my parents are taller than their peers too) and my love for chicken.

      It is thus unexpected that I'd be targeted for bullying given my height, but targeted I was, as early as my kindergarten days.

      Frankly, I can't recall what the bullying act was anymore, but remembering the girl who came to my rescue, 小薇, was easy. She's the kind of spunky kindergarten kid you know you don't wanna mess with, going by just looks alone. Whatever the bully was doing to me, she came along and gave him a huge Ah Lian-ish shove across his chest. The person didn't retaliate, perhaps out of surprise and/or fear, and left the scene.

      It's funny to me now how I experienced so early on a gender role reversal. Was this weak and soft side of me yet another subtle hint that I'm gay? Maybe. I'm past the point where I'm trying to self-rationalise my Sexual orientation.

      I was super grateful to 小薇 and worshipped her as the heroine that she was. I'd share with her everything that I had, and maybe, just maybe, we were sorta seen as a couple of sorts.

      Sad to say, we lost touch since we graduated from kindergarten, but the impact she left in my life remained.
      Chapter 4
      The first signs
      Being the first child in the family, and a boy at that, I was naturally the apple of my grandparents' eyes.

      I stayed with them after being with 阿婆 for a few years, since my parents enrolled me in a kindergarten relatively near their place. They were very protective of me, which I guess explained why they hardly brought me to the playground.

      Ok ok, I wasn't the most physically inclined of kids either haha. I much preferred bingeing on TV shows!

      Incidentally, this was how the first signs of my homosexuality came about.

      I had a penchant for superheroes such as Superboy, Superman, and er... Mighty Mouse. Besides the usual male admiration and awe towards these macho and powerful figures, I also found myself particularly engrossed during moments when the heroes were being thrashed or just plain helpless.

      I didn't know what my inner excitement meant, but somehow I did know that it would be frowned upon; I recall replaying hunk-in-distress moments on my VHS tapes and fondling myself only when I was alone in the living room.

      This guilty pleasure of mine remains to this day. I sometimes jerk off to videos of cute lean guys getting ballbusted, or video clips of superheroes in distress.

      Brandon Routh's humiliating moment in Superman Returns is one of my favourite clips. A pity that they probably shrunk his bulge with CGI throughout the film!
      Chapter 5
      Colouring My Life
      In primary school, teachers seldom gave out worksheets. He/she would actually painstakingly write out the questions on the board and we'd have to copy them down in our exercise books.

      For those fill-in-the-blank questions, I had this strange habit of using three colours to draw out each blank.

      My favourite combination was Orange, Green, and Red/Pink.

      Yeah I know, Red and Pink at a time when boys and men totally shunned these colours? And which other young boy would be bothered to decorate their assignments in such a manner? Suspicious much.

      Anyway, I was very particular about my colour pencils. They had to be Colleen, and I only used a particular orange/green colour pencil which is only found in the 18/36 and above sets.

      They weren't cheap, costing around $12 if I remember correctly, but my doting grandparents bought me new sets even as I barely used the other colours.

      I miss those days when simple happiness was derived from teachers' praises (and sometimes cheek pinches) about my colourful and neat work.
      Chapter 6
      Bruwea Briefs
      I never wore underwear all the way till primary school. I recall groaning and whining at my mum at how hot (ie uncomfortable) I thought they'd be, but she insisted on them anyway.
      So it was that I was dragged to our neighbourhood's shops to buy me some decency. Crocodile briefs were the gold standard then, but they were too expensive. Instead, my mother settled on Bruwea briefs, in the classic masculine colour of navy blue.
      I thought nothing of them then. She asked me to try them on when we got home, and I got around to it after chasing her out of the room shyly hehe.
      I tore off the packaging, and felt the material. It was quite nice (I think it's not pure cotton, there's nylon or something in the mix), and as I put them on, I felt this nice tingling sensation as the material clung snugly to my privates. As if in a trance, I started fondling myself through the briefs, and revelled in the pleasurable sensations.
      "How is it Kenneth, is it too tight? If so I go change tomorrow." I was so shocked that I yelped. After assuring her that there was nothing inherently wrong (haha), I said that they fit great.
      And thus began my love affair with briefs. I actually went to the shop solo a few times just to check out the other colours that they had, but didn't have the courage to buy them. In fact, it was only when I entered National Service that I actually bought my own undies, but that's a story for another time.

      Chapter 7
      T.H.'s probably the first boy I ever felt any inkling of attraction towards, even though it was more of just "wow he's cute!" rather than "omg I so wanna do him!"
      He was an archetypal sunshine Chinese boy, small yet expressive eyes, clean-cut, dimpled, super smooth skin complemented by a perpetual tan, and equipped with an endearing half-breaking soft-spoken voice due to his 11 years of age.
      I didn't even know he existed until I found out he was someone J.Y. (a female classmate of mine) crushed on before she gave up and focused her attention on me (to be elaborated in chapter 8).
      He seemed like a pretty nice boy who was popular cos he was athletic, but I hardly got a chance to strike up a conversation with him since we weren't in the same class, and I was SHY TO DA MAX back then!
      Nonetheless, when we did talk, he left a pretty favourable impression. One which has me smiling even as I type this hehe.
      Curiosity got me, and I decided to Google for him.
      Since his Chinese name is so unique, it took merely a minute before I found a PDF doc with a pic of him as some guest speaker. OMG he still looks as boyish and cute as the last I remember him haha!
      Sadly I don't see him on Facebook, where I might have done some more in-depth snooping. Ah well!
      Chapter 8
      While I was crushing on TH, I was unknowingly the crush of someone else! Not a boy, but a girl, JY.
      I was one of those goody-2-shoes-destined-2b-prefect types, and us prefects had to sacrifice our recess time occasionally to do what I now call guard duties, ensuring that people don't re-enter their classrooms or leave the school compounds when they aren't supposed to, etc.
      JY, a classmate of mine, first started to just chat with me during recess time when duty beckoned.
      She then started to offer me home-made sandwiches from her lunchbox. Tuna and sometimes peanut butter, I still recall, and they were really good! I accepted her offers with much thanks, never ever suspecting that she actually liked me.
      Further hints came when she made deliberate efforts to sit next to me in class. She also acted weird should I be seen talking to other girls. Naturally the other people in the class started speculating and gossiping, and I finally grasped what had been happening all along.
      I was quite bastard though. Instead of telling her nicely that I wasn't interested in her, I chose to deliberately sit separately from her in class and also avoid her outside of the classroom as far as possible. My memory's fuzzy now, but I seem to recall joining in along with other boys in laughing at her. For what, I'm not sure, but she was plump and unattractive, so she was easy pickings for anyone and everyone.
      As I type the above, I wonder if my treatment of JY is to be the bad karma which resulted in my receiving a most shitty rejection from SS in JC.
      But that's another story for another time.


      My First Gay Massage
      My virgin gay massage didn't take place overseas as it did for my other friends, but rather, at a commercial spa in the local pink light district.
      A superior turned close confidante randomly asked me one night whether I've tried such massages before. I said I didn't cos I was scared that it'd be ticklish and/or painful. He laughed in my face (the bitch, lol) at my unfounded worriesband bugged me till I said YES.
      It was located along a stretch of shophouses. I nervously glanced around as we neared the place, in fear of spotting friends. There was none, and it was without incident that we entered the place, immediately awash with the fluorescent blue light.
      I picked out a body scrub cum massage package. My friend whispered to me "best of luck", and said whether I got any "extras", and how much it'd cost (or not) depends on whether the masseur liked me (or not). I felt like I was paying to be judged, but what the hell, I was already there.
      I was to be massaged in the nude! My assigned masseur is in his early 20s, a Malaysian Chinese. I lay flat on my front, my ass exposed and totally vulnerable. Scenes of being fucked involuntarily came to mind, and it was with much effort I wiped them out.
      He alternated between gentle and hard strokes. It was quite comfortable actually; it didn't feel ticklish, and the occasional pain was actually pleasurable (no I'm not into SM). The room had some fake greenery placed inside, and coupled with the Nature soundtrack playing, I was in bliss!
      And then it happened. His hands seemed to be massaging my butt cheeks longer than he should, and all of a sudden he slit his fingers into my crack!
      I felt simultaneous shame and pleasure. One side of my brain screamed "how can u let him take advantage of you?!", while the other said "ask him to do it again!"
      In reality I merely kept silent as he continued to probe.