Date: Mon, 04 Aug 2003 12:59:32 -0700
From: Bob Stardog105 <stardog105@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Sexual Childhood 2: To Grammar School

Assuming that there was some sort of sexual exchange between me and my
babysitter, those stopped altogether at the age of three or so. I was now
under the care of my mother and whenever she did have health problems was
taken care of by other family members, including my paternal grandmother.

I remember than my grandmother was given charge of me or at least got lots
of visits from me during my pre-school time, mostly afternoons but an
infrequent evening there was possible. She was a saintly woman, very frail,
thin to a point of near transparence.  Quite straight laced and proper, she
was never one to express any emotions, show humor or warmth. Still this was
not particularly worrisome, especially to me who assumed that was how all
old people were.

At a time before real memory for me I recall a day when she had discovered
some interaction between me and another, I can assume a neighbor boy. She
was horrified and said something to the effect that I would never be (play")
with "Dirty Charles" again. In retrospect now I might imagine she had caught
some casual viewing or touching between two very small boys and considered
this a personal outrage. There was no threat directed at me in either the
act or getting caught so I shrugged it off entirely, but I doubt I ever had
any further contact with the adventurous Charles.

Of greater curiosity is an incident related to my grandmother on a time I
slept at her home. I was told to take a bath in the bathtub. The water was
drawn and I was to enter, close the door, get undressed and into the tub to
wash for bed. After an appropriate time my grandmother called from the other
side of the closed door that she need to get something from the room and
that I should not feel uncomfortable because she "had seen little boys
before."

I'm sure she had, raising two of her own, but the whole thing was staged for
her looking at me naked, which she did as I sat there under the warm water.
Have no idea what she wanted to find out. I knew at the time I was being
mislead and then as now cannot explain why.

Neighbors

Directly across the street from my home was a dry cleaner. Down the street
from that was a row of very small homes. In one of those homes lived the
owner of the dry cleaners. He had a daughter slightly older than me. And
since I can, I'll name her Tanya. She was one of my friends, someone for
games and play.

One afternoon she brought me to visit her little home down the street. I was
walked into the front door up some wooden steps and saw her father reading
the paper in an armchair. He said hi to me as Tanya took me further into the
house, in fact directly all the way into the bathroom. When we were inside
she closed the door and stood against it.

"If you don't open your pants and show me [fill in appropriate euphemism]
I'll tell my daddy you told me to show you mine."

I was stunned. How diabolical. I could never have imagined so cunning a trap
that had been sprung on me. I saw no way out.

Without saying anything, without any protest or even hesitation, I unzipped
and pulled my tiny little appendage to dangle noodle-like from the white of
my under shorts.

She smiled a big smile of triumph. She really knew how easy a mark I was for
her now and presumably in the future. I would not cause her any trouble.
And, as a gift, a way of being sort of "honest" with me, she quickly raised
her frilly short skirt up, slipped down her sheer panties and presented what
she had to me.

What I saw is lost to time. My impression was that I saw nothing since I saw
girls as having nothing "there." I was also still reeling from my betrayal
and probably a little grateful that she was willing to end things at this
point, since she could have done anything from have me totally undress to
whatever for her. I was hardly more than a pet to be played with: compliant,
silent, fun.

She replaced her clothes. I zipped up. Life went on. (It did indeed as I met
up with Tanya or at least knew her on sight when we were both in our first
years of college. She was a pleasing, young, trim woman, a bit of acne but
we all had that, at the time. I did not rush up to her breathlessly looking
to renew things where they had left off, but it was something I mused over
in an abstract way.)

Concurrent with Tanya was another neighborhood friend who was directly
across the street, in (if I remember) a larger house opposite my
grandmother's. His name was Johnny.

Proving that proximity leads to familiarity, Johnny and I developed a full
intimate life quite early.

We had two standard venues for our adventures. The first was an abandoned
car, parked to the side of my family's home and the second was the very
narrow utility space between the back of my home and the wire fence that
separated our property from the commercial lot above it.

The abandoned car

I am not sure how things developed but at some point we got to a routine, an
ultimate set of actions that we found imminently repeatable.

We would unobserved slink into the front upholstered bench seat of the car
laying on it head to foot and remove our pants and underpants to our ankles
or possibly taking them off entirely. If memory serves Johnny had a much
darker body than me, but I can't really recall detail. I can't recall how
his genital package looked and for sure can't capture mine. But each partner
in turn would be able to check out his mate both front and behind with the
startling closeness of being adjoining bodies on the narrow seat in bright
daylight. After taking turns at this charming exploration we would have the
further pleasure of retrieving from the battered glove compartment the car
door mirror fixture and by positioning our partner carefully and holding the
mirror carefully show him his fresh behind, making sure to separate the
cheeks to give the viewer the full impact of the russet disk he saw in the
mirror, at which point we pronounced "Red as a beet" to our partner.

The pleasure was immense.

Probably, probably there was no sex as such, just the closeness, the
incidental body touching and the "show". For sure there was no handling of
the genitals, no penetration of the anal ring by finger or anything else, no
erections either, just the great charm of being with another boy's body, of
sharing that experience in secret.

At some point, lets hope not too quickly, we were found out. The game in the
car was not to be repeated. No particular recriminations or threats but
certainly enough of a fuss so we knew we could not chance getting caught
again.

Behind the house

We moved operations. Possibly by this time Johnny was not as enthusiastic
about these intimate games as me. Possibly he had gotten some retribution at
home I had not. Or maybe he had moved on to other pastimes. But with some
duration and frequency we would slip behind several bushes and move around
to the back of the house, a place no adult could go (and never did) so we
could be totally free to indulge in our special games. [As an adult I
returned to view the old property. The property fence was unchanged and
entwined in it was a rope-thick vine, the same one that had been there when
Johnny and I used it as one of the barriers to hid our activity.]

We had one game we must have played many times, but I can only remember one
very complete incident, maybe the last, or maybe just one that had more
emotional content for me.

It was summer. We were in a narrow section overhung with bushes so there was
no way we could be seen from any direction and no way anyone could come
after us to check what we were doing. We were dressed in short pants and no
shoes.

I asked, "Can we play captive""

Johnny turned his head away as if in reluctance, then said "[Only] if I am
the woman."

I readily agreed, knowing that I could probably get in whatever I was
interested in doing once there was the ice breaker of his getting his way
first.

We were kneeling (we could not stand since the shrubbery was too low) more
or less facing each other.

Johnny assumed his role. He put his hands behind his back, clasping them
together (representing his being tied up). I was now in control. I quickly
removed his short pants and briefs from his waist down his thighs so that
his genitals and groin were exposed. He might have twisted some, as if
struggling or otherwise distressed at his being "violated." I increased his
sense of debasement by moving my hands around his genitals, gliding over
them, raising the penis from the scrotum and observing how everything
behaved.

Johnny remained properly cowed by the handling of his private areas. His
head was downcast and the picture of submission.

My impression was that his penis was very much of a smooth pink stub, his
scrotum, just a tight little brown nut sandwiched at the cleft of his
thighs. If there was any particular sensitivity or thrill in their being
manipulated, it was not obvious, nor encouraged.

"OK, now its my turn," I chimed.

Johnny did somewhat to me what I'd done to him but it was all very much pro
forma, no taste for it. He went through the motions, everything swiftly and
efficiently done so as to get things over with, a child's version of Wham
Bam Thank You Mam.

Again my impression was that Johnny wanted to be the "star" of the
proceedings, to be the focus, where he could emote his persona, a "woman"
who is abused and cannot defend herself. That was the pay off for him. The
manipulation was just secondary to the sense of loss of control, of
helplessness, it did not reach the realm of physical sensation.

More Tanya

Johnny and Tanya were also neighbors. There were others in the houses around
and we played the usual child games together. But at some point Tanya sought
me out for a special game she thought very important. As with girls she was
quite articulate and did a lot of explaining so I can relate fairly
accurately what she said.

"You know Bobby there are lots of bad people around and we have to be
careful. Suppose you are at school and a stranger comes up and says there
has been an accident or a fire or something and he has to take you away from
school so you can meet your parents. Maybe he'll even say he's your Uncle
Mike and tell you he knows you. So you go with him into his car. But instead
of taking you home he takes you to his place. He says that he has to get
something inside and it won't be a minute. He says that if you go in with
him he has a box of cookies and he'll give you one."

We at this point were in the narrow hidden area way behind my house. By
chance there was an old bare set of springs from a bed discarded to one
side.

"Bobby, lets pretend that you are being taken into his house and I'll be the
stranger, OK""

I agree.

"And these rocks here will be the cookies, OK""

I agree.

"Good.

"Bobby you have been a real good boy. Here's your cookie from coming inside.
If you lay on the bed I'll give you ANOTHER COOKIE."

I go over to the springs and lay down. She hands me another pebble.

"If you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep I'll give you ANOTHER."

I close my eyes.

"If you let me check in your pants I'll give you ANOTHER."

And so she is able to open my pants and presumably indulge in some
manipulation. I am then again rearranged, zipped up and "woken".

"Oh you had a good nap. I better take you home now. You can't tell anyone
you are here and I gave you cookies. OK"

I nod.

"Good Bobby, she reverts to being my neighbor friend again."Well that is
what might happen so that's why this game is important. It's called the
Molester Game and you have to do it so you stay safe."

Quite an imaginative little girl.

Well I doubt Tanya ever had the chance of a repetition with me. It seems she
was much more into the idea of overcoming my resistance than in actually
developing a pastime.

But I was not.

I wasted no time in getting Johnny introduced to the game and having him
play it on me to be sure he understood all its nuances.  For some reason I
am sure this game was a hit with him doing both parts and there is a chance
we did it several times, though I have no sense of just what sort of
activity was done once the pants were opened.

Ages

Since Catholics hold so much with sin and confession I am sure that the
great majority of what I did was under 7 (age when confession is introduced)
since it did not enter into any of my thinking then. A lot of this seems to
me to be pre-school and then first few grades. Johnny was some few months
older than me, enough to be a year ahead in school until he got held back.
Tanya was 2 or 3 years older.

End of an Era

Johnny became very much not my friend (for no explainable reason) before I
moved. Tanya had moved away before I moved, was not in the school system
until I saw her 10 plus years later.

But there was one more episode with Johnny still a part of this early
pattern. I would have been 10 (my brother was born when I was 11"no brother
yet). Johnny was on the street immediately behind mine, identical street
numbers. We became friends somewhat again. Not close but with some play
together and I had asked him to play surgeon with me, in the garage.

I shut the overhead door and as it was during my dad's work day felt we
would not be disturbed. Of course Johnny wanted to be first, the patient.

He lay on his stomach, hands to his sides as I was preparing for a spinal
incision. I began up under his shirt and moved down. At his waist I said
that the pants would have to be opened to continue the operation. He
obliging unzipped and let his pants be loose though in place. I continued
following the spine down into his underpants and said that they had to be
lowered. He raised up and I was able to trace the spine down to the tail
bone. I said that he'd have to turn over for further care. He rolled over on
the cement slab floor. I traced my line up under his scrotum, across the sac
divide and onto his penis, still very much stubby and pink, reminding me of
the color and general shape of a pencil eraser after it darkens with no use.

I was entranced by Johnny's rubber but soft penis. It had no foreskin and by
then I had learned of circumcision and was really interested in the
difference it made.

The handling of his penis was all part of the cure for Johnny he laid there
in his operation. It remained as small and pliant as at anytime despite my
turning it for different views, now obviously losing some of my surgeon
role.

"It's just so different," I complained.

Johnny looked up.

I quickly unzipped and pulled down shorts to show my pale cowled hose to
him.

He was very uninterested. Made some dismissive expression or gesture,
re-dressed and the game was over.

Questions, comments, your experience welcomed. Send to:
stardog105@hotmail.com