May 132014
 

I had my first real, detailed sexual fantasy when I was nine or ten years old. Variations on that particular fantasy stayed with me for years, but I know I was nine or ten when I first fantasized about it because the boys in my fourth grade class had starring roles.

They were the boys on the conveyor belt.

conveyor beltIn a large, empty room, there was a wide conveyor belt a few feet off the floor, at about my waist level. It moved left to right, entering and leaving the room through large cutouts in the walls.

When I flipped a comically oversized on/off switch, the conveyor belt whirred to life. After just a few moments, it started bringing boys to me.

The boys were my classmates — all wearing only tight white briefs, lying face up with their arms at their sides and their legs spread open. Their bodies were immobile, but I don’t know how or why — I don’t recall bondage being a component of the fantasy, so I guess they just held their positions willingly.

When the conveyor belt delivered the first boy to me, I turned it off. He lay before me, alert but entirely complacent. I didn’t touch him — I only took a few minutes to look him over.

I decided I didn’t want him. I flipped the switch and the belt started moving again — it took the first one away and brought the second boy to take his place.

I stopped the belt, looked him over, and decided I didn’t want that boy either.

The belt continued to bring boys to me. I looked them over and dismissed them one by one. I spent a little extra time examining one or two of them I thought were kinda “cute,” and I let a few pass by without even stopping the belt — I was sure I didn’t want them.

Ten or eleven boys in, I found one I thought was cute. I stopped the belt and examined him — this one was cute enough to touch. I touched his sinewy little boy biceps and his nearly concave chest. I stroked the insides of his skinny thighs and touched his crotch over his underwear. After a thorough examination, I decided he was the boy I wanted. I leaned down and kissed him… and then I jammed my tongue into his mouth and waved it around like I was trying to reach the last bit of peanut butter at the bottom of the jar.

Yep. Overzealous tongue probing was the ‘climax’ of my fantasy at age nine or ten.

boys-on-conveyor-belt-newI held onto that fantasy — in some variation or another — for years.

As I got older and gained more sexual experience, the fantasy got more explicit. What remained the same was the conveyor belt and line of boys to be examined and dismissed. Of course, the chosen boy was generally the one I had a crush on at the time.

In my early teens, my chosen boy got a clumsy handjob after I yanked his underwear down to his ankles — not really for his pleasure, but because I was fascinated with the way cocks worked, because I enjoyed the power that accompanied making him come.

Soon, in my fantasies, my chosen boy was straddled right there on the conveyor belt and treated to a vigorous dry humping.

In junior high, my conveyor belt fantasy took a different turn, perhaps because I often had boyfriends in real life. In my fantasies, my real life boyfriend would stand at my side as I oversaw my conveyor belt processions. While there were still examinations, in this version, the belt was full of girls — one after the other — and what I was looking for was the most “undesirable” girl in our classes. Of course, I defined “undesirable” according to junior high school standards and whatever social hierarchy dictated at the time. She was the one with thick glasses, braces, and stringy hair, or the fat one, the weird one, or the girl who smelled like pee. When I found her, I’d stop the conveyor belt and make him touch her. Of course, he — my real life boyfriend at my fantasy side — was terribly grossed out by it all. The less he wanted to touch her, the more it delighted me when he did.

In high school, my conveyor belt saw all sorts of teasing, forced sex acts, painful blow jobs, and mechanistic penetration.

And then I had sex, kinda, and my conveyor belt stopped for good.

I’ve been thinking recently, maybe I should bring it back and see if it still works for me?


I still don’t endorse the idea that our identities — our personality traits, preferences, or turn-ons, and  — are natural. I still think much of what we do when we look back and see “signs” is selective reflection, wishful thinking, and confirmation bias. But still, it’s fun to look back. :)
Composite based on “Conveyor Belt” (2009) by markroth8. Image has been placed in the public domain.

 

  15 Responses to “boys on a conveyor belt”

  1. I LOVE YOUR MIND.

    Now I’m going to go to bed and try to dream about the emperor picking me out of a concubine lineup.

  2. *hops on conveyer belt* I sure hope there are cookies at the end of the line, for those of us who get passed over… And beer! Maybe even BEER!

    • Hell, I imagine there’s a whole party at the end of the line… complete with pizza, beer, and cookies!

      Wait… a pizza and beer party with hundreds of boys I “dismissed” over the years? Fuck the conveyor belt… I’m going to that party!

  3. Also, I tend to think that our “personality traits, preferences, or turn-ons” are a complicated mix of genetics and environment.

  4. The party at the end of the line sounds like a ton of fun, especially if the pizza and beer are free…

  5. I laughed so hard when I started reading your post. I had a very similar fantasy, too, as my first sexual fantasy. Great minds …

    Now, taking into consideration “the false dichotomy behind a ‘natural’ dominant/submissive …” and my ‘natural’ submissive tendencies, my conveyor belt fantasy was so opposite yours. I was the one on the belt, traveling along, blindfolded and tied down, while anonymous people touched, used, and explored my body.

    Of course, these anonymous sexual and sensual explorations were exactly what I wanted them to be – I think my version of submissiveness is all about getting what I want in a rather passive/assertive way. “Do this, this, and this, while I pretend I have no say in the matter.”

    So much fun to see inside your kinky brain!

    • my conveyor belt fantasy was so opposite yours.

      You mean it went right to left instead of left to right? ;) (Ha!)

      were exactly what I wanted them to be – I think my version of submissiveness is all about getting what I want in a rather passive/assertive way

      Of course they were (at least in part) — everyone has wants! It is interesting how our brains provide scenarios to give us what we want AND give it to us in the way we want.

      So much fun to see inside your kinky brain!

      Thank you, Night Owl… it’s fun to get a peek into yours, too!

  6. Fun post. We should all go back and post some early fantasies. Which probably aren’t anywhere near as nasty as current ones. Just sayin…

    Fury

  7. As much as I like pizza and beer, I couldn’t help imagining a slightly more sinister fate lying in store at the end of the conveyor belt. Either way, though, it’s an intriguing fantasy!

  8. Note to self, buy a conveyor belt. :)

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