Sexually Abused! (Part One)

Hi guys,

Thanks to everybody who has been reading, commenting on, and following my blog. I'm really quite amazed at the response to the poll too, in terms of the amount of voters. I thought I'd be lucky to get ten in the fortnight. I was also amazed at the age range; I know that not all teenagers are crazy about sex, but will they read the more serious posts? I'll just have to wait and see I guess. Lol.

There are only nine days left on the polls, so please:

VOTE! vote! VOTE! vote! VOTE! vote! VOTE! vote! VOTE!

So on to today's topic...I have never, ever told this to anybody. The only people who know (unless they told others) are me, Peter, and the Dirty Old Man (Dom), and he's probably dead now anyway. I'll give you some background information so you know how I knew 'Dom', but I'll be as brief as I can (hehe, me and brief just doesn't work).

In 1977, when Peter and I were just thirteen years old, we decided to enter a talent competition at our local youth centre. If we won we would go to the next stage and compete at the local Theatre. Well, we won (yippee!). Then we won the next competition and was invited to do three acts in The Town Show. This was an annual event where the acts were mostly Cub Scouts, though I'd never heard of it, and one of the organisers was 'Dom'.

To cut a long story short; after the show he asked us if we would mind performing our acts in some old age pensioners homes, you know like community homes. Our parents agreed to this and so we saw quite a lot of him in the following months. My brother Tom would have to tag along too sometimes, my dad insisted, but after a while I didn't really mind.

Now 'Dom' was at least sixty-five, probably more by my reckoning, and had to walk with the aid of a stick because of an old war wound...seriously! But, his youngest child, a son, was only about seventeen. He gave me the creeps more than 'Dom' did, he looked evil with his thick, black, greasy hair and the beginnings of a moustache. The way he looked at me really scared me. Facially, he reminded me a bit of Hitler...but his eyes were just...EVIL!!!

It wasn't long before 'Dom' started to show some "affection". He would cuddle us, or try to anyway, it was gross. Then he started "play fighting" with us, but he couldn't really move around because of his leg, so he would just grab hold of you around the waist or chest instead. While he had you in his grasp his free hand would keep clenching on your leg, above the knee, and end up at your upper thigh. His grip on you was strong but his balance was another matter, so he never had a hold of you for long...thank fuck!

'Dom' also volunteered (well I doubt he was paid, but?) for an organisation that helped under-privileged children by arranging camping holidays for them. As Peter was from a one-parent family, and my family was piss-poor, he asked our parents if they wanted to apply for us (Tom included).

They were successful and the next thing I know we were off to Danbury. The only people to go on the first day and night would be the volunteers, Peter and I. This was because (allegedly) he wanted us to help out with cooking and organising the others when they arrived, so he needed to fill us in on H&S etc. Tom would be picked up and arrive with all the others the next afternoon.

I can't remember how many volunteers there were, but they were male and female and mixed ages. I do remember one of them (Steve) was really fucking sexy. He was 18-19, blonde crew-cut hair, muscular and very cute. Everybody, and I mean everybody, wanted to be in his tent!

Steve's cousin was there too. He was around 15-16, slim (but not skinny), blonde hair again but quite long and straight, blue eyes and a really gorgeous smile.

Now what did I say near the beginning about "me and brief just doesn't work"?

I know I shouldn't keep apologising about my post length (about 6.25" if you really want to know, hehe), but I just don't seem to be able to get to the point, quickly. Lol.

It may be because I like to know everything when I read something, so that's how I write too. I don't know so you'll have to put up with it I'm afraid.

In Part Two: The Dirty Deed...How I Felt About It Then...What I Feel Now.

Depending on the length, I may be able to fit in a joke or two also.

Thanks for reading!

Take good care of yourself,

Col