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CougarGirl
Star
- Joined
- Nov 5, 2013
This story follows on from “Raped by my son 1 – the rape”
The medical examination was pretty much what I expected. It wasn’t elegant to sit in that horrible saddle with my legs spread wide while a doctor poked around with cold instruments. In fact, it was embarrassing and humiliating, but that is just the sort of examination that we women have to endure. At least, the doctor was female, understanding and had warm hands. What more could I ask?
She didn’t ask much, just got on professionally with collecting the evidence of intercourse for DNA analysis, as she put it. As if my son would deny what had happened. Then she took more samples for screening, as she put it. As if my son had caught some disease. I’d never thought of him having sex, but now that she mentioned it, he knew what to do, so he must have had some experience.
Finally, she asked if I was on the pill. She raised her eyebrows when I told her I wasn’t and expressed surprise that I was not sexually active. I told her rather curtly that I was too busy in my job and raising my son to have time for men. She tactfully refrained from pointing out that I had raised a son who was prepared to rape his own mother and prescribed me a morning-after pill to ensure I did not have to carry his child.
That, I thought, was the worst over. All I needed to do now was just tell the police what happened. Nothing could be simpler. What could possibly go wrong?
Two officers sat opposite me in low chairs around a coffee table in the rape suite. One male, the other female.
‘Tell us what happened’ the female officer said. ‘Take your time.’
So I set out what happened. Giving her a clear summary of my son coming home injured, my examining him, and his sudden change of character. He was, after all, my son. I couldn’t overlook what had happened, but there was no need to paint a worse picture than necessary.
They listened attentively, taking an occasional note.
‘Thank you,’ said the female officer, ‘that was very clear. Let’s just work through it a little more slowly, just to be sure we’ve got all the details. They can often be important. What were you doing that afternoon, before your son came home?’
I blushed. Can you actually believe it, at my age, that I was embarrassed to tell them that I had been watching porn while using my vibrator?
‘Relaxing’ I told them, ‘just relaxing.’
They sat and waited as if expecting more.
‘It’s the only time I am sure to have to myself, away from work and with my son playing soccer. I had just had a bath and was still in my bathrobe.’
‘I was wondering about that.’ This was the male officer. ‘Wondering why you were in a bathrobe at that time of the afternoon.’
‘I’ve told you, I’d just had a bath.’
‘But you hadn’t bothered to dress. Why was that?’ This guy was softly spoken, but persistent.
‘I like to relax after a bath, it’s a sort of ritual, I go and have a lie down. There was no need to dress, because I wasn’t expecting my son home for another hour, or more if he went out with his mates after the match.’
‘What were you doing to relax?’
Shit, but of course I’d forgotten, he must have spoken to that filthy minded little son of mine. Goodness knows what he’d told him.
‘I was watching a film online. Just something to take my mind off work and help me relax.’
The female officer now intervened.
‘What was the film?’
I took a deep breath and confessed. ‘Lesbian Lovers.’
I dared not look at the male officer. The female officer gave me what looked like a sympathetic understanding glance, but pressed on.
‘And while you were watching …?’
Alright, I was in a corner. It was best to get out of it as quickly as possible.
‘I was toying around, that’s all. With my vibrator. Like I said just relaxing.’
Why did I sound so defensive? Why did I feel so defensive?
The atmosphere changed now. I can’t say how or why, but I sensed it. There was a definite change in their questions.
‘So you were aroused when you son arrived home?’ This was the male officer again. It didn’t need much imagination to see where he was going.
‘No, definitely not, I had only just settled down when I heard him come in.’
‘So you hurried downstairs to find out what was wrong?’
‘Of course, I was concerned that he was home early, and as soon as I saw him I knew something had happened. He was looking pale and shaken and kind of stooping like he had stomach ache.’
‘I imagine your robe was open while you were … err … on your bed.’ This was the female officer again. She knew damn well it was. I glared at her; I bet she would be watching that film tonight with her own robe open and vibrator humming.
‘Naturally, but I pulled it round me as I got off the bed.’
‘Tightly or just loosely? You were in a hurry, so did you have time to fasten it securely?’ I was getting to dislike her almost as much as her colleague.
‘I wrapped my bathrobe round me and looped the cord over itself, just like I always do after a bath.’ As soon as these words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. It didn’t take much imagination to see what they’d make of that: here’s a woman who walks around in front of her son with her robe barely covering her. But, surprisingly, they didn’t go down that road. At least, they didn’t say anything about that. The male officer took over again.
‘But when you reached the top of the stairs and saw your son, you ran down towards him. And in your concern and hurry, the robe may well have come loose and flown open. Is that possible?’
‘No, no, definitely not.’ I wasn’t letting him get away with that. ‘I’m a modest person. I always make sure I am properly covered when he is around, even when he was young. The front of the robe may have opened and shown my thighs, that’s true enough, but that is all. He couldn’t see anything else.’
Have you noticed that I never call him by his name. He is my son, I can’t get away from that, but he’s no longer the Ben I knew.
‘Are you sure?’ the male officer pressed on. ‘He was looking up at you after all. You may have exposed yourself more than you thought.’
I shook my head, in answer to his suggestion and in disbelief that he was even following this line. What had that child told him about what happened?
The female officer took over now.
‘Let’s come to when you were both on the landing. Your son says that you dragged him into your bedroom. Is that what happened?’
‘No, no, it wasn’t like that. He didn’t want me to examine him, but I thought it was important as he hadn’t been seen at the match, just sent home. I had to insist that it was in his own interests to get checked out. That was the right thing to do in the circumstances, wasn’t it?’
I directed that question at the male officer. He must know what a kick in the balls felt like. But he sat back and let his colleague follow up.
‘And you made him drop his jeans and shorts?’
‘Of course, I did. How else could I examine him?’
‘And you pulled him close to you, between your legs?
‘Of course, I did. How else could I see to examine him properly?’
‘And you took hold of his penis?’
‘I had to, it was hanging in the way. It’s quite long.’
That last remark was directed to her colleague and I hoped it made him feel inadequate, but it was impossible to tell from his impassive expression.
‘And you massaged his testicles until he got an erection?’
No, this was just too much.
‘Hang on here’ I shouted, rising to my feet and storming around in frustration at their attitude. ‘I’m the victim here. The little bastard abused me and raped me, and now you’re trying to suggest that I was molesting him. Is that it? Is that the story he’s come up with to try to cover up what he’s done to me?’
Neither officer spoke. They just sat watching, waiting for me to burn myself out and sit down. It was the male officer who now tried to placate me.
‘We’re not accusing you of anything. No one is. We’re just trying to get your story straight in our minds. Like we said, the details are often vitally important if a case goes to court.’
I didn’t like that ‘if’. It suggested that it might not go to court, that he might get away with what he’d done.
‘Look, it wasn’t like that. It was like I said the first time round. I moved his penis out of the way and felt around his testicles for swelling. I suddenly realised he was getting an erection. It was probably just a physical reaction to my holding him, that’s all.’
‘You don’t think it might have been a natural response to his situation. You had pulled him between your legs, which you spread wide to get him close, and your robe was falling open to reveal your genitalia and your beasts, while you were holding his penis and manipulating his testicles. Might a child not understand what you were doing?’
‘Child?’ I screamed. ‘What’s this with him being a child? He was strong enough to hold me down and rape me by force. He was mature enough to have intercourse. Does that sound like a child to you?’
‘Let’s be clear about this’ the female officer joined in. ‘Ben says that you got him aroused and pulled him onto you. He resisted and protested, but you told him it was just natural. He was disgusted by what you were doing and accused you of being a whore. When it was over, he felt that he had to get out of your sight and ran away.’
I stared back in horror. My son had raped me and now he was accusing me of raping him. He was taking things that I had done and words that I had spoken, but twisted them to mean something different. And these officers were taking him seriously. I was speechless. All I could do was shake my head and sob at the unfairness of it all.
They let me go after a while, realising that they’d get nothing more out of me. I went home and took the pill the doctor had given me. Within a few hours, I felt queasy and had a gnawing stomach ache, which at least took my mind off my mental turmoil. I didn’t see Ben and have no idea where he went. I checked his room and his things were gone. He couldn’t face me, which was fine because I could bear the thought of seeing him. He wasn’t in my house and that was all that mattered to me.
A week later the female officer came to visit. She talked to me calmly and for a long time, but however long she spoke and however much she explained, her message was still the same. They were not going to prosecute. The chances of success were too low. The basic facts weren’t in dispute and a jury might well believe that Ben had at least misunderstood my intentions. She handed me a card with the number of a counselling service. Thanks a bunch.
As she was leaving, I asked her if she had enjoyed watching ‘Lesbian Lovers’. She didn’t answer. Bitch.
There is a sequel: “Raped by my son 3 – the counselling”
The medical examination was pretty much what I expected. It wasn’t elegant to sit in that horrible saddle with my legs spread wide while a doctor poked around with cold instruments. In fact, it was embarrassing and humiliating, but that is just the sort of examination that we women have to endure. At least, the doctor was female, understanding and had warm hands. What more could I ask?
She didn’t ask much, just got on professionally with collecting the evidence of intercourse for DNA analysis, as she put it. As if my son would deny what had happened. Then she took more samples for screening, as she put it. As if my son had caught some disease. I’d never thought of him having sex, but now that she mentioned it, he knew what to do, so he must have had some experience.
Finally, she asked if I was on the pill. She raised her eyebrows when I told her I wasn’t and expressed surprise that I was not sexually active. I told her rather curtly that I was too busy in my job and raising my son to have time for men. She tactfully refrained from pointing out that I had raised a son who was prepared to rape his own mother and prescribed me a morning-after pill to ensure I did not have to carry his child.
That, I thought, was the worst over. All I needed to do now was just tell the police what happened. Nothing could be simpler. What could possibly go wrong?
Two officers sat opposite me in low chairs around a coffee table in the rape suite. One male, the other female.
‘Tell us what happened’ the female officer said. ‘Take your time.’
So I set out what happened. Giving her a clear summary of my son coming home injured, my examining him, and his sudden change of character. He was, after all, my son. I couldn’t overlook what had happened, but there was no need to paint a worse picture than necessary.
They listened attentively, taking an occasional note.
‘Thank you,’ said the female officer, ‘that was very clear. Let’s just work through it a little more slowly, just to be sure we’ve got all the details. They can often be important. What were you doing that afternoon, before your son came home?’
I blushed. Can you actually believe it, at my age, that I was embarrassed to tell them that I had been watching porn while using my vibrator?
‘Relaxing’ I told them, ‘just relaxing.’
They sat and waited as if expecting more.
‘It’s the only time I am sure to have to myself, away from work and with my son playing soccer. I had just had a bath and was still in my bathrobe.’
‘I was wondering about that.’ This was the male officer. ‘Wondering why you were in a bathrobe at that time of the afternoon.’
‘I’ve told you, I’d just had a bath.’
‘But you hadn’t bothered to dress. Why was that?’ This guy was softly spoken, but persistent.
‘I like to relax after a bath, it’s a sort of ritual, I go and have a lie down. There was no need to dress, because I wasn’t expecting my son home for another hour, or more if he went out with his mates after the match.’
‘What were you doing to relax?’
Shit, but of course I’d forgotten, he must have spoken to that filthy minded little son of mine. Goodness knows what he’d told him.
‘I was watching a film online. Just something to take my mind off work and help me relax.’
The female officer now intervened.
‘What was the film?’
I took a deep breath and confessed. ‘Lesbian Lovers.’
I dared not look at the male officer. The female officer gave me what looked like a sympathetic understanding glance, but pressed on.
‘And while you were watching …?’
Alright, I was in a corner. It was best to get out of it as quickly as possible.
‘I was toying around, that’s all. With my vibrator. Like I said just relaxing.’
Why did I sound so defensive? Why did I feel so defensive?
The atmosphere changed now. I can’t say how or why, but I sensed it. There was a definite change in their questions.
‘So you were aroused when you son arrived home?’ This was the male officer again. It didn’t need much imagination to see where he was going.
‘No, definitely not, I had only just settled down when I heard him come in.’
‘So you hurried downstairs to find out what was wrong?’
‘Of course, I was concerned that he was home early, and as soon as I saw him I knew something had happened. He was looking pale and shaken and kind of stooping like he had stomach ache.’
‘I imagine your robe was open while you were … err … on your bed.’ This was the female officer again. She knew damn well it was. I glared at her; I bet she would be watching that film tonight with her own robe open and vibrator humming.
‘Naturally, but I pulled it round me as I got off the bed.’
‘Tightly or just loosely? You were in a hurry, so did you have time to fasten it securely?’ I was getting to dislike her almost as much as her colleague.
‘I wrapped my bathrobe round me and looped the cord over itself, just like I always do after a bath.’ As soon as these words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. It didn’t take much imagination to see what they’d make of that: here’s a woman who walks around in front of her son with her robe barely covering her. But, surprisingly, they didn’t go down that road. At least, they didn’t say anything about that. The male officer took over again.
‘But when you reached the top of the stairs and saw your son, you ran down towards him. And in your concern and hurry, the robe may well have come loose and flown open. Is that possible?’
‘No, no, definitely not.’ I wasn’t letting him get away with that. ‘I’m a modest person. I always make sure I am properly covered when he is around, even when he was young. The front of the robe may have opened and shown my thighs, that’s true enough, but that is all. He couldn’t see anything else.’
Have you noticed that I never call him by his name. He is my son, I can’t get away from that, but he’s no longer the Ben I knew.
‘Are you sure?’ the male officer pressed on. ‘He was looking up at you after all. You may have exposed yourself more than you thought.’
I shook my head, in answer to his suggestion and in disbelief that he was even following this line. What had that child told him about what happened?
The female officer took over now.
‘Let’s come to when you were both on the landing. Your son says that you dragged him into your bedroom. Is that what happened?’
‘No, no, it wasn’t like that. He didn’t want me to examine him, but I thought it was important as he hadn’t been seen at the match, just sent home. I had to insist that it was in his own interests to get checked out. That was the right thing to do in the circumstances, wasn’t it?’
I directed that question at the male officer. He must know what a kick in the balls felt like. But he sat back and let his colleague follow up.
‘And you made him drop his jeans and shorts?’
‘Of course, I did. How else could I examine him?’
‘And you pulled him close to you, between your legs?
‘Of course, I did. How else could I see to examine him properly?’
‘And you took hold of his penis?’
‘I had to, it was hanging in the way. It’s quite long.’
That last remark was directed to her colleague and I hoped it made him feel inadequate, but it was impossible to tell from his impassive expression.
‘And you massaged his testicles until he got an erection?’
No, this was just too much.
‘Hang on here’ I shouted, rising to my feet and storming around in frustration at their attitude. ‘I’m the victim here. The little bastard abused me and raped me, and now you’re trying to suggest that I was molesting him. Is that it? Is that the story he’s come up with to try to cover up what he’s done to me?’
Neither officer spoke. They just sat watching, waiting for me to burn myself out and sit down. It was the male officer who now tried to placate me.
‘We’re not accusing you of anything. No one is. We’re just trying to get your story straight in our minds. Like we said, the details are often vitally important if a case goes to court.’
I didn’t like that ‘if’. It suggested that it might not go to court, that he might get away with what he’d done.
‘Look, it wasn’t like that. It was like I said the first time round. I moved his penis out of the way and felt around his testicles for swelling. I suddenly realised he was getting an erection. It was probably just a physical reaction to my holding him, that’s all.’
‘You don’t think it might have been a natural response to his situation. You had pulled him between your legs, which you spread wide to get him close, and your robe was falling open to reveal your genitalia and your beasts, while you were holding his penis and manipulating his testicles. Might a child not understand what you were doing?’
‘Child?’ I screamed. ‘What’s this with him being a child? He was strong enough to hold me down and rape me by force. He was mature enough to have intercourse. Does that sound like a child to you?’
‘Let’s be clear about this’ the female officer joined in. ‘Ben says that you got him aroused and pulled him onto you. He resisted and protested, but you told him it was just natural. He was disgusted by what you were doing and accused you of being a whore. When it was over, he felt that he had to get out of your sight and ran away.’
I stared back in horror. My son had raped me and now he was accusing me of raping him. He was taking things that I had done and words that I had spoken, but twisted them to mean something different. And these officers were taking him seriously. I was speechless. All I could do was shake my head and sob at the unfairness of it all.
They let me go after a while, realising that they’d get nothing more out of me. I went home and took the pill the doctor had given me. Within a few hours, I felt queasy and had a gnawing stomach ache, which at least took my mind off my mental turmoil. I didn’t see Ben and have no idea where he went. I checked his room and his things were gone. He couldn’t face me, which was fine because I could bear the thought of seeing him. He wasn’t in my house and that was all that mattered to me.
A week later the female officer came to visit. She talked to me calmly and for a long time, but however long she spoke and however much she explained, her message was still the same. They were not going to prosecute. The chances of success were too low. The basic facts weren’t in dispute and a jury might well believe that Ben had at least misunderstood my intentions. She handed me a card with the number of a counselling service. Thanks a bunch.
As she was leaving, I asked her if she had enjoyed watching ‘Lesbian Lovers’. She didn’t answer. Bitch.
There is a sequel: “Raped by my son 3 – the counselling”