Mary was a sixth grader when she was raped by
her sixteen year old brother. The father was
drunk when we came to the home.
The father began
to tussle Mary's (now thirteen) hair and cuddle
her as fathers often playfully do.
However, Mary
did not respond positively, and she seemed to
wish to pull away-her face showed anguish and
she appeared extremely distraught with every
movement of his hands on her face and chest. Her
eyes were closed as if she were in pain.
To me it was clear that the father, as well as the
brother, was a source of sexual torment for
Mary. In a short while, the father led Mary from
the entry area (where we were talking) into the
living room and sat in a chair with Mary lying
on his lap.
It was possible to see them; the
father was stroking her body, particularly her
genitals. I was able to see now that Mary had
been conditioned to endure being touched by her
father for she had no other place to turn for
help.
My brother is a year older than I am. We were
very fond of each other. When I was in seventh
grade we got very sexually involved.
He told me
all about sexual intercourse. Every day after
school we would go to his room and talk and fondle
one another. He had some rubbers and asked
if he could have sexual intercourse with me. I
almost let him do it, but it was too painful. He
was very gentle and he said he wouldn't do it.
Sometimes we would play rape and I would be in
his room and held run in. We would fight and
finally held rip my clothes off. This was one of
our favorite games.
One day my brother (age thirteen) quite by accident,
found a stack of old "Playboy" magazines
in my dad's closet and showed them to me.
We
never had too much time to look at them because
we weren't left alone often....
After we'd
looked at them several times, my brother started
asking me if I looked like the girls in the pictures.
I replied that I didn't but he kept pestering
me. Finally he suggested that we pretend
that I was the model and that he was the photographer.
He coaxed me, saying it would be fun and
besides, 'nobody would know except us'.... At
first I just took off my clothes, but then I
decided it wasn't quite fair, so he took off
his, too, when I threatened to quit playing.
Pretty soon the novelty of just looking at each
other wore off, so he decided we should touch
each other.
By this time I was a little curious,
too, so we agreed to 'feel each other' for
thirty seconds at a time.
I suppose this was my
earliest encounter with mutual masturbation. He
told me that he enjoyed it when I ran my fingers
over his penis; however, I (a preadolescent)
didn't get any pleasure out of doing it
and enjoyed his exploration even less.