Friday, December 07, 2012


What follows is true, and in no way exaggerated. 
Ikey Lee, the ancient village roadsweeper, touched me up when I was about eight years old. When I was about twelve, a married woman at the local shop where I helped out at weekends talked dirty to me and even rubbed herself against my genitals, causing a sensation that surprised me. When I was about thirteen, the projectionist in our local picture house showed me his erect penis. When I was at summer camp, again aged about thirteen, an older boy, "Flog" Ferrington, invited me to masturbate him, which I did with great interest. When I was fifteen I worked the summer at a bottling plant, where some of the women - the married ones - liked to make coarse suggestions and grab at my genitals as I passed. All of the children I grew up with will remember Uncle Albert, who seemed to get a kick out of leaving the door of the outside privy open when he was at his business. And I have already told you about wheelchair-bound Jack Lockley, who used to play absentmindedly with his penis, until his sister would come out and tell him to put it away.
I am not innocent either. When I was about fifteen, I made a grab for Cynthia Brown's breasts, a brief encounter that I deemed worth the pain of the punch she gave me in response. I remember, in the same era, helping Melva Davies, who was about ten, to climb down from a wall, and got a stiffy from the pressure of her bottom against my bundle as she slid down. On another occasion, I persuaded Melva to show me hers if I showed her mine.
That is the sum total of what I can remember about childhood sexual abuse, received or dished out. In case the grundies of Scotland Yard are reading this, I wish to make it clear that I do not intend to make any accusations or bring charges against any of the above "child abusers", living or dead, and I am pretty sure that Cynthia B and Melva D bear no malice for the incidents when I was naughty, if indeed they can even remember them. My guess is that ALL of you reading this have similar stories to tell. My guess, too, is you were not scarred for life by such incidents; they were just part of growing up.
Envoi: Will the coppers PLEASE stop going for the easy targets, and start going after the seriously evil bastards who really did sexually abuse young children, above all, those who exploited their positions of authority and trust in order to satisfy their lusts. And leave the other ninety-something percent of us alone?

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