Chapter 29

“If she is ready to face me, then fine, Sandy.”
Carol sidled round Sandy, and stared at me from five or six feet away. Sandy said to her, “This is the man you kissed earlier, Carol, so you know you have nothing to fear from him. I can tell you now that he was terrified you might be scared of him, so he was very careful in how he held you. He wanted to let you see that you could move away at any moment. That is how considerate my husband is, Carol. Try taking a few steps closer to him; you are perfectly safe I assure you.”
Carol tentatively shuffled closer to me, her eyes on my eyes, like a prey animal watching a predator; ready to bolt at the slightest threat. I sighed, and opened my arms wide, invitingly.
“Would you like a cuddle, Carol?” I asked.
She paused, then said shyly, “Yes, please, if I can make the decisions.”
“Agreed. It is entirely in your control, Carol.”
She sidled up to me, and I kept my arms wide.
“Can I get a cuddle without kissing, Bob?”
“Of course,” and I brought my arms closer in, leaving her an avenue to enter. She eyed me, checked that Sandy was watching, and slowly came into my arms, stopping when she bumped into my front.
I slowly and steadily brought my arms round her until they closed on her slightly padded body, and I pulled her a little closer.
She sniffed slightly without thinking, and suddenly noticed how I smelled to her. It was the smell of a man, and she was unsure whether to to flee from it, or embrace this interesting aroma that she did not recall smelling before. Her attacker had forced her in such a way that she was never really aware of his scent during the rape. Her attention had been entirely focussed on her defilement.
This was different. This man was non-threatening, merely inviting her to participate in an interaction that was under her control, as guaranteed by Sandy. She moved her body against me and I became aware of her prominent breasts pressing against my chest.
“Carol, I am very aware of your presence, and it is having an effect on me. You are a lovely girl, my body tells me. It has an effect that I am not in control of, but you are.”
“What is that?” she asked.
“My penis is getting hard,” I said.
“What does that mean?” she asked again, not understanding.
“It means that I am attracted to a beautiful woman. It happens to me whenever I am close to Sandy, Georgina, or Janet. It can be a threat or a promise, but the difference lies in whether you are in charge or not. Today, you are in charge, so it is not a threat. I will never threaten you, Carol; never. I promise you that.

Whatever happens between us, like that kiss earlier, is under your control; you say yes or no to what is being suggested or offered, and that is what will happen. That is what is meant by choice; no compulsion, ever. The difference between an attacker and a lover is having choice. With an attacker there is no choice, so you have to give yourself a choice. If there is an attack, you must fight back to give yourself the chance to flee. Kneeing him in the groin is usually the best way to fight back.

With a lover, you have the choice to say yes or no, to give in because you want to give in, or gracefully decline the offer. A good man will accept your choice.”
“Do you have a choice, then? I mean, as a man?”
“Everyone has to make choices in their lives, Carol. A man making a choice to attack is risking being caught and sent to prison, but often an attacker does not look beyond his immediate desire to control another person, and assumes he can get away with his crime without being caught. In too many cases, as in yours, he gets away with it.

That can lead to physical abuse, sexual abuse, or even mental abuse if it continues. The person on the receiving end is the victim.

People like me are the opposite; not wanting to harm other people except in self-defence, but occasionally to save another person’s life that way.”
She softened and pressed herself closer, then brought her arms around me.
“You smell nice,” she informed me.
“Thank you. You smell ... girlish; is that a smell?” I wondered aloud.
She giggled as she absorbed that suggestion.
“It sounds about right. You can pull me in to you if you want.”
“That would be nice,” I accepted, and pulled her closer, so that her groin came up against my hard penis, and her body stiffened.
“Is that your penis I am feeling against me?” she asked shyly.
“It is, and it was made big and strong like that by your presence. That shows you how attractive a girl you are; but nothing more happens unless you want it to. That is your choice, Carol.”
“That is how you have sex with Sandy and with Georgina, and with Janet? With that big thing?”
“Yes, but always, married or not, because they want it to happen: their choice, again.”
“You are a funny man!” she blurted out suddenly.
“Really? What kind of funny? Funny, peculiar; funny, humorous; funny, unusual or odd?”
“Perhaps a bit of each. I feel comfortable with you, which amazes me. Possibly it is with your wives being at hand to offer support if I need it.”
She squirmed round in my arms to face Sandy.
“Why do I feel comfortable with him, Sandy?”
“It is solely because he is who he is, Carol; the man I love, the man WE love. He doesn’t see this for himself; he just acts the way he thinks a good man should act.”
“Can I kiss him again?”
I felt I was being treated as an object and not as the instigator of this discussion, but I waited for Sandy’s answer.
“Go ahead, Carol. If you want to, cop a feel of his penis, so you can say you have felt one, entirely of your own volition.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Bob is never unhappy if a beautiful woman plays with his penis, I can tell you! You have my permission, if you think you need it.”
I thought I would need to protect my pecker from an immediate finger attack, but instead she sought my lips for a kiss, probably to see what happened. What happened was that my boner got harder! Only then did she slip her hand down to find my bulge. She stroked it tenderly, exploring its shape and size.
She removed her lips from mine, to exclaim, “How the hell can any woman take that into her body?”
I explained patiently, “A woman’s vagina expands to accommodate any penis, as long as there has been enough foreplay to get the vagina to make lubrication.”
“Oh. So that was why being raped hurt so much? No lubrication? Being loved by a man is easier, then?”
“It is. Another factor is when your hymen gets torn, not only do you bleed, but it hurts that first time. That hurt can be minor, or a more severe pain, depending on a number of factors, one of which is lubrication.”
“You seem to know a lot about women for a man the same age as me, Bob!”
“My wives have told me a lot in the course of teaching me how to make love and fuck, Carol. If you want good guidance, speak with them about sex; that’s my advice to you: learn from them.”
“Sandy did tell me things about you, Bob. I can see that she knows what she is talking about. Can I kiss you again, now that I have found out about your penis?”
“Sure; go ahead. Can I hold you tight to me while we kiss?”
“Yes; my choice.”
We were still engaged in that lip lock, and groin to groin, when the door opened and Janet’s voice declared, “My God! She is kissing your husband, Sandy; kissing a man! Really? Is that really Carol?”
“That is a fact, Janet. How are you feeling now? Still upset?”
I broke off from Carol at that talk. Upset? What was she talking about? I excused myself to a bemused Carol, and turned to face Janet.
“Why are you upset, Janet? Is it something I did or said?”
Georgie jumped in with, “See? I told you he didn’t say anything to intentionally hurt you.”
I demanded, “What did I say?”
Sandy told me, “It was what you didn’t say, Bob. You didn’t react with enthusiasm at her special news, darling. Instead, you told her to wait for confirmation. To you, that was logical, but to her, it was putting her off, and she felt slighted, of less importance to you.”
“Poor Janet! I am indeed delighted, but didn’t want us to go overboard in case it was a false alarm. I didn’t want you to be disappointed if you weren’t pregnant, my darling girl. Didn’t you see that?”
“You really are happy, then?”
“Of course. How about I take you to your bedroom and show you how happy I am for you?”
“Now? Yes please!”
“Girls? May I take Janet away and make love to her? Sorry, Carol, but one of my wives needs my loving.”
Carol said in a small voice. “Go ahead. If you love her, she needs to know she is loved. I understand that.”
As I took Janet’s hand and led her out of the room, Carol said to Sandy, “He is all you said he was, Sandy. It is amazing to watch a man act like that; more concerned for the woman than for himself.” I heard nothing more as the door closed.
By the time Janet and I were up and dressed again, Janet wore a happy smile and I admit I did as well, likely to be a father in nine months. We walked through to the kitchen and found the others were all there, chatting away like life-long friends; well, two of them were, and Carol had joined as well.
Sandy welcome us in, saying, “Come in, you two. Carol has been telling us more about herself, especially about the last four years. Would you believe it? Her parents did not believe her about the rape; said a good girl would never let that happen to her, and if it did happen, she must have encouraged the man. Her mother was even worse than her father, she said; called her a hussy and a slut. She felt she was being attacked again, this time by her own family!
She could not live there anymore, with that atmosphere, and for a while shared a room at another friend’s house where the family were more sympathetic, and she could attend school for longer, but she eventually got a menial job and was able to pay for an attic room at a cheap lodgings. It was very small but it was within her budget at the time and she learned to subsist on cheap basic foods: potatoes, pasta and rice in the main.

Once she got a better job at a women’s hair salon she was able to move, and eat better. One of the staff knew a place that offered bed and breakfast at a reasonable price, and that suited her for a couple of years while she trained as a hairdresser. Once she had a trained position she was better paid, and moved to the same lodgings as Janet, which is where they met. The restrictions on visitors suited her as well, as she was shunning men as much as she could.”
“That sounds like a boring life,” I commented sadly, but Carol objected, “No it wasn’t, for it was what I needed. I had good company at the hair salon, and the girls there knew what my problem was with men, so they didn’t talk about the men they were with, if I was within hearing range. I was delighted with my job, and the occasional tips from wealthy ladies helped as well. The boss lady regarded tips as belonging to the person, not the salon, so I learned to be very nice to the customers, exactly as the owner intended. The salon also offered tattoos to ladies, mostly teenage girls, and I got these ones done as examples to show them.”
She pulled up a sleeve to show the decorative heart on her arm below the elbow, and the girls all craned their necks to see better.
I was looking for a place to sit, preferably beside Sandy, but she pointed to a wooden chair by the wall. It was a peculiar chair as it had a carving of a mouse climbing up one leg. “Use that one, dear. We brought it through for you. Carol, can you move up and let Bob sit beside you so he can listen to what you say if he wants to?”
Carol gave her a sharp glance in reproof, but shuffled her chair to one side, making space for my odd-looking chair. This naturally meant I was close to her, and I looked over to Sandy with a visual query. She stared me down as if to say ‘don’t challenge me on this’, and I sat there in silence, trying to not do or say anything that would draw attention to my presence beside Carol.
I got looks from Georgie and Janet, but then they glanced over at Sandy and saw what she was aiming for: making Carol comfortable at having me, as a man, sitting beside her, doing nothing at all except being there. Innocuous.
The talk was mostly boring stuff about clothes and hair styles, with Carol keen to persuade them to come to ‘her’ salon for their hair appointments. This chat went on for some time, and it was clear that Carol had forgotten about me sitting beside her until Sandy asked about our evening meal.
“Bob, are you fine with Carol joining us for dinner at our usual place?”
Carol moved slightly away as she remembered she had a man beside her, then let it pass as she accepted the situation. I replied in the affirmative, and Janet added, “I can be with you as I am not on duty tonight. Just imagine: Bob and us four girls at the one table; three of which he is fucking! That should get the tongues wagging.”
Sandy added, speaking to Janet, “Especially if you kiss Bob with a show of enthusiasm! No-one there has heard of you missing your period, I presume?”
“No, only Bob and you girls know about it.”
Carol asked Sandy, “Can I kiss Bob there as well, Sandy? I want to see if I can do this in public, where other people are around, not just you. It might be scary for me.”
Sandy paused, then said agreeably, “That would make sense, Carol. Yes, do that and see how you cope.”
We wrapped up warmly then walked down to Kempock Street. I was getting quite familiar with this route by now. It was starting to feel like I was at home. Our entry created a bit of a stir as Sandy led the way and marched directly to ‘our’ table, which was fortunately vacant but set for four. Janet took one look at the table setting then bustled off to get another place setting and organise an extra seat.
We were all seated by the time the wine waiter appeared by our table. He blinked at how many girls/women were with me.
“You are all together? All the one party, Mr McIntyre?”
I confirmed, “One party, just a little larger than before. What would be your selection for us tonight?”
“Oh. Let me see; nothing too expensive I think. Some very expensive choices are aimed at those who think they know wines. A Sauvignon Blanc from Sancerre would go well if you choose the Arbroath Smokie course, which I am assured is excellent tonight.”
“Sounds great: I’ll go with both of these. See what the ladies will have in the way of wine.”
After the wine waiter had left, Janet got up to come over to me and gave me a passionate kiss. “That is for my baby, if I have one started.” and she sat down again. Carol immediately got up and like Janet came to me and planted a kiss on my lips before looking around at the other tables. No-one had noticed, so she kissed me again and checked again for an audience. There was no reaction from the clientele, and she sat down in evident disappointment for a moment, then brightened as she realised what she had managed to do in public.
The restaurant staff made no other comment on the make-up of our party, but after the soup course was concluded, a well-coiffured lady of about twenty came over and asked, “Is that really you, Carol?”
“Oh, hi, Fiona. Yes, I was invited to join Bob McIntyre and his family tonight.”
“Your host is a man, Carol!”
Carol smiled brightly and said, “How observant of you, Fiona. Yes, Bob is a real man compared to the excuse for a man who defiled me. Bob’s ladies showed me a few things that I was unaware of before.”
“Nice to hear that all is well with you, dear. I am pleased to hear it. I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal.”