Memories of Underdevelopment, II/7
by Estragon

Copyright 1996, 1997
Estragon Productions
For adults only


The thing about Leila was that, even though she was as much of
a virgin as I was, she let herself do things in her mind
without ever stopping to wonder if they were normal. She took
it for granted that anything she thought about doing, other
girls thought about too, even if they were too timid to say
so. She was way ahead of me in the things she imagined, but I
was definitely down the same road, so I had no reason not to
agree with her about this. Maybe I'd never let myself think
about peeing on a guy before, especially a guy older than my
dad, but it was pretty clear that Leila only had to mention it
to get me up to speed. Once she painted the picture, it was as
if it had always been in my head. I would imagine it in all
its details when I was alone, when I touched my vadge, and
eventually I knew that it was only a matter of a little time
before Leila and I would make it happen.

But sometimes I'd express worry that we were just two
fifteen-year-old virgins with no experience except giving
fifteen-year-old boys erections and making them act silly
because of them. How were we going to make these wild
fantasies come true? And Leila would say something incredibly
deep and smart, which didn't even make sense to me at the
time, but which I chose to believe because I loved that girl
so much. She'd say, "Erica, what I think is, the wilder the
fantasy, the easier to make it come true. Males aren't like
us."

Leila really believed that males of all ages exist for girls
to play with. There was no doubt about it. Everything proved
she was right: the fact that males have penises and get
erections they can't do anything about, not to mention the
fact that they have these testicles a girl can hurt
practically by breathing on them.

"Did you know all males wake up in the morning with their
penises sticking up?" Leila asked me one day. I didn't know
that and I was pretty impressed.

"Where did you get that?" I asked her.

"I mean," she said, "they're not out of bed yet and they're
already pre-teased."

Leila laughed at this word she'd made up, "pre-teased." Then
she showed me this magazine article called, "The Joy of
Teasing." It's point was that now that women are feeling
independent and "assertive" (everybody used that word at that
time), the old idea of the nasty "cock-tease" was dying out
and women were realizing that it was a stupid idea, made up by
men to keep women down, and that teasing was okay - that it
was pleasurable and natural and gave women and girls a sense
of their rightful power in a so-called man's world. Women
teased because men were teaseable. Neither sex could help it.
And it did say that all men wake up with erections and that
proved something.

Leila cut out part of the magazine article and Xeroxed it so
I could keep it too. We spent a long time trying to understand
its ins and outs, but it also really turned us on. I still
have the old Xerox and this is it:

"'Teasing is a natural and unavoidable fact of sex. It is
brought into being, not by the wiles of women, but by the
constitution of men.' Those are the words of Olivia Guzman,
Ph.D., Professor of Psychology and Women's Studies at the
University of California at Berkeley. And Dr. Guzman's words
are being echoed by plenty of other authorities across the
country. 'The very existence of women teases men,' states
Spokane University Professor of Physical Anthropology Miranda
Morgan, author of last year's surprise best-sellerThe Feminine
Phenotype, 'and unless a woman goes to great lengths to
conceal her femininity, she is going to produce the sensation
of being teased - that is, of being simultaneously aroused and
hopelessly puzzled - in most of the men whose paths she
crosses. She really has little choice. So she might as well
enjoy it, and benefit from it.' Boston-based psychiatrist and
psychoanalyst Hal Limerick, M.D., concurs. Dr. Limerick, who
teaches a popular course on the psychology of sex at the
Harvard School of Medicine, has a simple explanation for the
phenomenon which Dr. Morgan makes sound like a biological law.
'On the unconscious level, men can't believe that there are
really people without penises,' he explains, 'people just like
themselves but lacking those erectile, unruly penises and
those fragile testicles suspended beneath. No matter how many
female bodies they've observed, they remain basically
incredulous.' Hearing Dr. Limerick quoted, Dr. Guzman says,
'He's right on the money, in my opinion. Men never get over
us. That's why they can't stop staring. And why staring only
increases their misery. Deep down they don't accept the fact
that there are human beings untrammeled by such rebellious,
conspicuous, humiliating appendages as a penis and testicles.
Every female pelvis they see throws their whole world into
confusion. With its smooth, undisturbed contours and elegant
lines, it becomes in some unguarded, baffled region of their
mind an exception to reality, a misunderstanding, a mirage
they need to deny and need to believe in at the same time.
Logic and experience tell them otherwise, but the mental
conflict only deepens their alarm.' Dr. Guzman looks
thoughtful for a moment, then she adds in an uncharacteristic
whisper, 'Poor things!'"

Leila read it to me aloud, standing there like an orator with
the piece of paper in front of her face. She had no trouble
pronouncing even the strange words. She was that into it. It
was making her feel glorious, proving absolutely everything
she believed in, even the fact that she could know so much
about sex just from looking inside herself.

"See?" she said when she was done. "According to these
doctors, I'm totally right."

I didn't know what some of the words meant, like "phenotype,"
and I still don't, even looking it up. And I had to ask Leila
to read the sentence about "untrammeled by such rebellious,
etcetera appendages" a couple of times - it sounded beautiful,
but.... But the fact was, there they were: all of Leila's
ideas about men and boys in print in a glossy magazine for
modern women. It was as if we'd gotten the official go-ahead.

From then on, when Leila and I undressed and stimulated one
another, we'd always be adding to our fantasy of domination,
especially of grown men, and always be thinking about how we
were going to make it real. Often Leila would just be rubbing
my clitoris in a rhythmic, absent-minded way that still felt
wonderful, and she'd be letting her mind wander out loud at
the same time. You never knew what was going to come out of
her brain, but it was always sexy and important. One day she
started pressing my mound with her fingers, the upper part,
the lower, right and left, as if she was looking for something
and not finding it.

"What are you doing?" I said. "What's there is there."

Leila said, "You know a word I love, Erica? 'Pussy-whip.' I
love it. It's like music to my ears. I mean, I'm searching all
around your pussy and I'm thinking, What do girls have down
there to whip with? A vadge doesn't look too much like a whip.
Not the way a penis does. But we whip with it anyway. We whip
with nothing to whip with. That's the beauty of it. Do you
know what I mean?"

I always knew what Leila meant, even if at the very first it
sounded strange to me. How I knew was a mystery to me
sometimes, but I knew. "I do," I said. "That's the joke.
No-penis is more like a whip than penis." Leila liked it that
I was putting it that way, sounding like her. And I liked that
too.

"It's BECAUSE we're smooth we drive them crazy," Leila said.
"Penis is so pathetic."

Then we couldn't stop talking about pussy-whipping. To our way
of thinking, a guy couldn't have an erection without feeling
humiliated. We imagined that if we were males we would find
such a thing very humiliating, especially if a girl teased us
into it. We knew guys tried to make as if they had control of
their penises, their big "tools," their "weapons" and
"joy-sticks," but it was so obvious to any girl who went in
for teasing boys up - we called it that, "to tease someone up"
- that those dicks were girl-toys pure and simple and the boys
they were stuck onto couldn't do anything to help it. Really,
all you had to do with a fourteen or fifteen-year-old was give
him a big smile while you let your hand just glide quickly
over his pants and you gave him a sizeable problem down there.
And Leila kept saying that it would be even easier with an
older guy, not harder.

"They get some extra kick being humiliated by girls young
enough to be their daughters," Leila said.

We started calling everything we did that was sexy "whipping."
Sex was "whipping," that's all. Whenever you aroused a guy,
you were whipping him, according to Leila and me. If your
lipstick made him notice you, then you were "lip-whipping"
him. If it was your figure, you were "hip-whipping" or
"tit-whipping." We also were fascinated with the way males
went crazy over girls' and women's legs. Males had legs too,
after all, but they treated OUR legs as though they were
totally different kinds of thing. This made heavy
"leg-whipping" possible, and it was a very easy and satisfying
way to play with guys, requiring no more effort than strolling
down the street. But all of these kinds of whipping were also
forms of pussy-whipping, because unless you had a pussy none
of them worked. But there was a special kind of pussy-whipping
that really involved showing a male your naked hill and vadge,
and this was a tremendous privilege for the male which he had
to earn over a long period of time by letting you humiliate
him in a hundred different ways. And then he paid dearly
anyway for what you let him see. Leila and I had it all worked
out before we ever laid eyes on a single naked penis.


And that was how we wanted it. When we finally graduated from
teasing-school and started really exercising our vadge-power,
we didn't want to be giggling girls about it. We wanted to be
cool, moody, lounging bitches, yawning over the erections we
teased up, making the guys who had them feel ridiculous and
pathetic. Even when Leila and I undressed for one another and
lay down together, all we talked about while we massaged each
other was what we planned to do in the near future to males.

We started playing the "If you had a penis" game. Leila
started it one day when she had her finger in me. She just
suddenly said, "If you had a penis, Erica, I'd tease it up
with this finger and then I'd slap it down again with my
hand." So I said, "And if YOU had a penis, Leila, I'd rub it
all over with Melinda's Hot Pepper Penis Sauce...."

"That's what I'd do to YOU, if you had a penis, Erica. Rub it
with Melinda's Hot Sauce, and your balls too, which you'd have
if you had a penis, and then brush them with my bristly stiff
hair-brush...."

"I'd take my emery-board to yours, if you...."

"I'd have yours totally shaved, Erica, and then have 'Leila'
tatooed on it...."

And on and on like that, laughing and feeling mean toward
males and making each other's vadge sticky-wet. And then one
day...we just HAD a penis, and after that lots. It happened
because we'd spent a lot of time and thought getting ready for
it. Admittedly, our first penis was only thirteen years old,
a kid, Josh, we knew from the music store who was, besides
being younger than us, goofy in love with Leila. So one day,
when we're teasing him and another kid up - not that it
matters, but we're in tight sleevless shirts and really tight
jean-shorts, and our arm-pits are beautifully shaved and we're
wearing lipstick of course - when we're teasing up the place
and Josh is squirming and giggling as usual, Leila says,
"First boy to unzip his fly right here on the street gets to
go home with Erica and me."

I was surprised, but I put on this patronizing grin, as if I
was in on Leila's plan all along. The other boy says, "Are you
kidding? You gonna do it, Josh?" And Josh does it. Unzips his
fly right there, and, since he's erect, a round white swelling
appears in the opening, Josh's penis pushing his underpants.
That was it. Not such a reckless act, but to us a definite
symbol of something. As was Josh's broken voice when he
squeaked, "Can I really come home with you girls, Leila?"

Leila had turned half away from the kid and that's how she
stood. Hands on her hips, tilting her head, looking Josh up
and down almost sideways. The boy stood there for Leila to
look over. The little lump of white cotton poked through his
fly, but he kept his hands at his side and kept lowering his
eyes too, and then lifting them trying to read Leila's
thoughts. If she had said that she'd changed her mind, I don't
think he would even have been that upset. He'd have been glad
he got to unzip his fly for her. That would have meant a lot
to him by itself.

But we did take him back with us to Leila's. It wasn't that
far, a bus-ride. And on the way Leila kept telling him what
she and I intended and expected, and Josh kept nodding and
saying, "Uh-huh, okay."

"When we get there, Joshie, you'll take all your clothes off."

"Uh-huh. Okay."

"Without being told again...."

"Uh-huh."

"And you'll give them all to Erica and she'll go and hide
them."

"Okay."

"Then you'll stand at attention like a soldier and let us look
you over."

"Okay. Uh-huh."

"Then we'll ask you to do things...."

"Uh-huh."

"Things you may find embarrassing...."

"Uh-huh. That's okay, Leila..."

"I'm older than you, Joshie. Say 'Ma'am.'"

"Ma'am. Uh-huh. Okay. Ma'am."

Josh stripped down the minute we crossed the threshold. He
gave me his clothes, shoes, everything, and I went and hid
them in Leila's mom's hamper. When I came back, Josh was
standing at full attention, his legs squeezed together, his
hands at his side. His penis was not incredibly big or thick,
but it was sticking out hard, and his testicles were tucked up
against it in their tight little bag. Neither of us girls had
ever really seen this male set-up naked before, but we were
determined to play it cool. Leila was sitting at the table
eating some yoghurt. She actually had her back to Josh. I took
her cue. I walked to the table and stood next to her with my
back to Josh also.

"Hi, Erica," she said. "Is he on his toes?"

I turned to check. Josh quickly lifted himself onto his toes.
"I didn't know...," he said.

"Shhh!" Leila said. "I'm checking the tv-listings."

"Sorry...," Josh said.

Leila jumped up from the table, grabbed my wrist and pulled me
with her as she sped across the room, and planted herself
squarely in front of the boy on his toes. Leila took his chin
in her hand and held his head steady for a minute, staring
Josh down. Then, all at once, she gave his penis a tremendous
slap and Josh yelped like the puppy he was.

"First of all, shut-up," Leila said. "Second of all, say
'Ma'am'."

Josh said, "Ma'am," in a whispery little growl, as if he
wasn't sure this was the right time for it. Leila looked
terribly annoyed. I noticed that she was still holding her
yoghurt-spoon.

"Stay still, Joshie," she said.

"Yes, ma'am." He seemed happy to have a chance to say the
words out loud.

Leila took a few steps back and looked Josh up and down. He
was on his toes, but getting wobbly, partly from nerves
probably and partly from fatigue. Leila held out her arm
full-length, with the spoon in her hand, as if she was
measuring the space between her and Josh. It was a little like
someone getting ready to drive a golf-ball, moving her arm
slowly, squinting into the distance - which in this case was
only as far as the boy's sex organs. And I watched it all as
if I'd seen things like this so many times I'd rather watch
paint dry. The interesting thing is, even though I'd never
seen a live naked male before, pretending that I'd seen
plenty, in just this same slavish state Josh was in, made the
whole thing more fascinating than it would have been if I'd
just stared and stared at his penis and balls like an amazed
little girl. I liked turning away from Josh's things, getting
a quick look at his erection and recording it in my mind and
then turning my back on it. I didn't care half as much how
Josh looked as I did that he was shivering naked on his toes
wishing I cared. There's something amazing about knowing that
a penis is throbbing for you - behind your back! I've never
forgotten that.

Leila finally stepped back towards Josh. He was trying to
stand tall the way she wanted him. His penis twitched a few
times. How it wanted Leila and my attention, probably our
touch! And it got that right away. Leila sort of lifted it
away from Josh's balls and exposed his tight sack to full
view. She held his penis against his belly, pushing it into
his little bit of useless male pubic hair. This caused his
testicles to lift somewhat too. Then Leila asked me to take
over the job of holding Josh's penis flat against him. The boy
was moaning and sighing and nervously clearing his throat. He
kept saying, "Oh, oh...," and his penis-tip became wet. Since
I was pinning up Josh's penis with just a couple of fingers on
its underside, Leila could see what was happening to it very
well.

"Don't you squirt anything, little boy," she said.

"Okay," he gurgled, "Uh-huh, Ma'am."

Leila positioned herself a few inches in front of Josh. "Stay
on your toes, little boy," she said.

"'kay, Ma'am," he rasped.

"Maybe you'd better cover his mouth," Leila said to me. I
glanced down and saw what she was about to do. I covered
Josh's mouth with my free hand and thought it was probably
just as well if I also pressed his head upwards while I did
it, so he couldn't look down. The kid was getting scared. I
could feel him shaking a little, and there was sweat on his
face.

I kept Josh from looking down, but I looked all I wanted. With
one fist Leila was holding the spoon in a tight grip to the
side of Josh's testicles, and with a few fingers of the other
hand she was holding the utensil back, with the hollow part
facing away from the kid's sex organs, getting ready to sling
the round side against Joshua's balls. Josh knew something
more than just embarrassing was about to happen, and his
breathing got ragged. Leila did nothing for a while, building
up the kid's fear. I could feel his tiny breaths against my
palm. When Leila coughed, he practically fainted.

"Erica and I have something we want to do to you, little boy,"
Leila said. "I'll tell you the truth, I don't think you're
going to like it that much. But if you remember that it's us
girls doing it, and you know you like US, and this is
something WE like, then maybe you can learn to like it too."

Josh was really shaking. Leila's soothing words weren't doing
the trick. Then she said, "Here's an idea, Joshie. What do you
think about you deciding WHEN Erica and I do it? What do you
think? You'll say, 'Now!' and it will happen."

Josh tried to nod, to the extent that I was letting him move
his head. "Great," Leila said. "Whenever you're ready, Joshie.
Just don't go down off your toes."

He tried to nod again. I made a tight seal on his mouth with
my hand and pushed his head far back, so if his eyes were open
he was looking at the ceiling. I was looking down at Leila's
hands and the spoon mostly, but when I did look at Josh's
face, it was all closed up, his eyes squeezed shut. He looked
like someone waiting for the worst. Then he said, "Okay, now!"
as loud as he could through his covered mouth, which wasn't
very forceful, and he tightened his face even more in
anticipation of the terrible thing he'd asked for. And Leila,
that devil, did nothing - nothing except wink at me, and I
understood.

Leila and I didn't budge. You could feel the boy's confusion.
"We were just testing you, Joshie," Leila said finally. She
meant that we never had any intention of letting him call the
shot. But the way he let out a sigh of relief made me think
that he thought she meant we weren't really going to hurt him.
He felt so good about that that he doubled his effort to
cooperate. He stood taller on his toes, his legs and stomach
stiff. It was a posture made to worsen the pain he was about
to feel. There was no give in it. Leila looked at me and
smiled. I understood that it was up to me. We were both extra
quiet. The hush disconcerted the boy on his toes. Then I gave
Leila a nod and she let the spoon go cracking against Josh's
left testicle.

He squealed in pain and doubled over, not only coming off his
toes but sinking a little toward the floor. Leila told him -
absolutely commanded him - not to go down, and he really tried
not to. He kept struggling to unbend his waist and knees, but
his whole body wanted to sink. It was a strange sight, this
boy bending and crouching to his knees, then jerking himself
part way up again with obvious difficulty, then giving up and
crumbling, and on and on. His erection also disappeared and
his penis shrivelled into nothing. He couldn't help himself:
he brought his hands down to his sex organs and cupped his
hurt balls in them. He was crying and saying, "Oh, God...."
Leila bent down and removed his hands from the region.

"No hiding," she said. The boy was helpless. Leila took the
spoon, the hollow part this time, and scooped up his balls
from behind. I thought she was driving it into him pretty deep
because Josh winced several times. But he didn't try to stop
her or move in any way. He went on crying, and it was as if
the extra pain she was causing him now digging the edge of the
spoon into his nuts was something he just accepted as his lot
in life. That's how Leila and I interpreted it later. We told
ourselves that we had taught this kid to accept his fate as a
male. I think there was something to this explanation, because
eventually Leila handed the spoon over to Josh and told him to
keep doing with it just what she was doing. And he obeyed,
whimpering and hurting himself while we watched for a long
time without cracking a smile.

When we started to get tired of it, Leila said to me, as if
Josh wasn't even around, "I told you we shouldn't fuck with
children." She winked. "Who needs it?"

"You were right," I said.

Then we gave him his clothes and sent him home. Leila said,
"Just remember, Joshie. If anyone asks you if you've ever been
pussy-whipped, you can hold your head up high and proudly say,
'I sure have.'"

He staggered out, totally confused and pretty clearly in pain.

"Okay," he said. "Uh-huh, I will...Ma'am."

"Seriously, though," Leila said when he was gone, "we have to
set our sights a little higher."

"What about a college-boy?" I said.

end of part two





    

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