where it all started
At age 3 or 4, I befriended a wee girl at sunday school called, say, Pippy, and we became sweethearts. Before Pippy I had only known Alice next door, who was just a mate, good for sharing ice creams with. Pippy was something else - I was nuts about her. (I discovered, many years later, that she had felt the same way)
We used to go on trips to the seaside together. Presumably with somebody's parents, though there are no adults in any of the photos.
I was 4 or 5 when my old dear went away for a month or two. In those days fathers couldn't look after kids, so I was sent to live with Pippy. Bliss! She lived in the great big house on the hill. They had a maid, who used to bath us before bed, and we were completely at ease being naked. I learned that girls don't have willies.
At night I slept in the spare bed in Pippy's bedroom. One night the babysitter gave us each a liquorice allsort to eat before bedtime, and I fell asleep sucking mine. When Pippy's mother came home late and kissed us goodnight, I woke with a fright. My face was stuck to the pillow by the half-eaten liquorice sweet, and there was a black sticky mess everywhere.
Pippy had her own playroom, a large glass room built on the end of the house. I suppose it must have doubled as a sort of conservatory, because it was filled with houseplants.
She and I played there happily every day, until one day the girl from next door came to play. Her name was something like Monica, and she wanted to join in with our doctors and nurses game. Well I wasn't too keen on that. For one thing why would I want to share Pippy, and besides I was much too young for threesomes.
Monica was too coy to take her own clothes off but she was happy to watch us. After Pippy had shown off her bottom it was my turn. I remember bending over while they both had a good look. What I couldn't see was that Monica had picked up one of the cactuses from the window ledge. I felt a sudden pain as she jabbed the cactus into my backside. To this day I have never liked women named Monica, but I don't mind cactuses.
The day eventually came for me to go back to live the bread and water life with my own parents. I could just about recognise my old man when he arrived after work to take me home. He chatted with Pippy's parents over a drink or two, and then he drove me home. I can still remember him explaining to me in the car that when we got home he was going to have to give me a beating because of the unmentionable thing I had done with Pippy.
When we got home, on my way up to my bedroom for the beating I recognised my mother so I said hello.
I was made to take my trousers off (the very thing I was being punished for!) and lie on my bed, while my old man whacked my arse, 6 times I think. Surely the cactus was punishment enough. When it was over, I said the most hateful thing I could think of to him:
And he resumed whacking me, until I apologised and said he wasn't silly.
When I went downstairs later to meet my mother, I burst into tears again.
Nobody ever referred again to the terrible thing I had done, but from then on Pippy and I were finished. The parents must have decided it was too dangerous to let us be friends. How Shakespearian!
Of course now I was hooked on naked girls, and a few months later I was caught with my trousers down, in the garage with Alice next door.
When the old man came home that night I feared another beating, but he just said:
Why no punishment for the second offence? It was only when I was an adult that I understood that Pippy's parents were the folks who lived on the hill, while Alice was just the girl next door, no better than us.
It was another 25 years before I saw Pippy again, but that's another story.
We used to go on trips to the seaside together. Presumably with somebody's parents, though there are no adults in any of the photos.
I was 4 or 5 when my old dear went away for a month or two. In those days fathers couldn't look after kids, so I was sent to live with Pippy. Bliss! She lived in the great big house on the hill. They had a maid, who used to bath us before bed, and we were completely at ease being naked. I learned that girls don't have willies.
At night I slept in the spare bed in Pippy's bedroom. One night the babysitter gave us each a liquorice allsort to eat before bedtime, and I fell asleep sucking mine. When Pippy's mother came home late and kissed us goodnight, I woke with a fright. My face was stuck to the pillow by the half-eaten liquorice sweet, and there was a black sticky mess everywhere.
Pippy had her own playroom, a large glass room built on the end of the house. I suppose it must have doubled as a sort of conservatory, because it was filled with houseplants.
She and I played there happily every day, until one day the girl from next door came to play. Her name was something like Monica, and she wanted to join in with our doctors and nurses game. Well I wasn't too keen on that. For one thing why would I want to share Pippy, and besides I was much too young for threesomes.
Monica was too coy to take her own clothes off but she was happy to watch us. After Pippy had shown off her bottom it was my turn. I remember bending over while they both had a good look. What I couldn't see was that Monica had picked up one of the cactuses from the window ledge. I felt a sudden pain as she jabbed the cactus into my backside. To this day I have never liked women named Monica, but I don't mind cactuses.
The day eventually came for me to go back to live the bread and water life with my own parents. I could just about recognise my old man when he arrived after work to take me home. He chatted with Pippy's parents over a drink or two, and then he drove me home. I can still remember him explaining to me in the car that when we got home he was going to have to give me a beating because of the unmentionable thing I had done with Pippy.
Me: What thing?
Him: You know!
When we got home, on my way up to my bedroom for the beating I recognised my mother so I said hello.
I was made to take my trousers off (the very thing I was being punished for!) and lie on my bed, while my old man whacked my arse, 6 times I think. Surely the cactus was punishment enough. When it was over, I said the most hateful thing I could think of to him:
Me: You're silly!
Him: So I'm silly, am I?
And he resumed whacking me, until I apologised and said he wasn't silly.
When I went downstairs later to meet my mother, I burst into tears again.
Me: he hit me!
Her: Well, you shouldn't have done what you did.
Nobody ever referred again to the terrible thing I had done, but from then on Pippy and I were finished. The parents must have decided it was too dangerous to let us be friends. How Shakespearian!
Of course now I was hooked on naked girls, and a few months later I was caught with my trousers down, in the garage with Alice next door.
When the old man came home that night I feared another beating, but he just said:
Don't do it again!
Why no punishment for the second offence? It was only when I was an adult that I understood that Pippy's parents were the folks who lived on the hill, while Alice was just the girl next door, no better than us.
It was another 25 years before I saw Pippy again, but that's another story.
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