Uncle Charlie – Part Two

“I've given more thought to what I said about the dichotomy of the conjugation of the word therapist,” Julia Wallace breezed into Susan Bradshaw’s consulting room.

“You mean the conjugation of the words the rapist into the word therapist?” Susan replied.

Susan was sitting behind her desk rereading the notes she had taken during Julia’s first session.

“Yes. You’re helping me deal with the memories from my past involving me being manipulated into sex, which I don’t really think constitutes rape in its truest sense. However, in a way I felt a little defiled when I left your practice last week,” Julia settled into the chair on the opposite side of Susan’s desk.

“We don’t have to talk about that anymore if you don’t want to. I mean you don’t have to go into such detail,” Susan responded.

“No. It was cathartic. I repressed those memories for so many years and when they returned I started having trouble sleeping, having nightmares and a general feeling of being watched and followed. What you referred to as scopophobia. After sharing with you last week I slept a lot better,” Julia countered.

“Well its early days but I’m glad that therapy seems to be working for you,” Susan made a quick note.

While Susan scribbled in her notebook Julia turned a framed picture on Susan’s desk towards her and then picked it up and studied it. Susan Bradshaw was wearing a bikini and sitting on a beach somewhere warm. It looked like somewhere totally not British, possibly Spain or maybe even somewhere in the Caribbean. There was woman sitting in the sand beside Susan with her arm around her. She looked to be the same age and she was pretty and was also wearing a bikini. The smiles on their faces were reflective of an intimate, happy moment caught on camera.

Susan reached out and politely took the framed picture from Julia and returned it to its proper place on the desk.

“My partner,” Susan blushed a little but she was unapologetic.

“Ah. So you are familiar with the prejudices that we face,” Julia said a little smugly.

“We? Susan’s brow furrowed.

“Those of us in the LGBT community. When daddy first heard that acronym being used he blamed me personally for hijacking half the alphabet. I think that was the last time we spoke,” Julia ruminated.

Susan observed that Julia, a woman in her forties, sometimes still referred to her father as ‘daddy’.

“Shall we begin?” Susan gestured to the chaise lounge, reluctant to discuss her own sexuality with a patient.

Julia was wearing a trouser-suit today. Fashion label of course and Susan noted the red soles on Julia's high heels when she kicked them off. When Julia wiggled her toes as she lay back on the couch Susan also noted that Julia was wearing sheer hosiery under her trousers.

Susan took up her customary position in the plush seat beside the chaise lounge. She was wearing a bone-white skirt suit, heels and hose. It was her best suit and she knew subconsciously that she had worn it today because she knew that Julia was coming in for a session. She chided herself for being influenced by this wealthy entitled matron but she sympathised with Julia’s troubled childhood.

“Where would you like to start?” Susan’s pen was poised over her notebook.

“Let’s pick up where we left off. If you don’t mind I prefer a linear approach to things. I don’t like to chop and change between the past and the present,” Julia stated and she began.

“Uncle Charlie came around for Sunday dinner which mother liked to host once a month. Mother accepted the complements she received regarding the proffered fare graciously, even though she wouldn’t have known how to operate a can opener. She’d brought in caterers to cook and serve the meal,” Julia sniffed.

“You can imagine how uncomfortable I felt sitting at the dining table surrounded by family and friends whilst Uncle Charlie sat across from me pretending that nothing had happened between us,” Julia flicked an imaginary piece of lint off her trousers.

“Charlie was his usual self, telling bawdy stories and reminiscing about his exploits in the Royal Navy. His wife, my Aunty Carol, sat beside him and reproached him when he went a little too far,” Julia recalled.

“‘What about you Julian? Are you chasing skirt around the school grounds? Looking forward to college where you can sew your wild oats with those university hippies? Nah, you look like the type who would fancy a girl dressed conservatively in a nice skirt and nylons rather than some hairy-legged bohemian with straggly hair. I bet you go for the more sophisticated type. That’s your style.’ I could tell that he was baiting me,” Julia sighed.

“‘Leave the poor boy alone Charlie, you're embarrassing him,’ my Aunty Carol thought that she was coming to my rescue,” Julia nodded unconsciously as she recalled the incident.

“I asked to be excused and went up to my bedroom. I could tell that daddy was disappointed that I hadn't joined in the banter. I think he wanted me to say something like: ‘I’m getting plenty of skirt that you very much Uncle Charlie,’ but I just sulked off to the sanctity of my room.”

“Charlie came up to my room a little later and entered without knocking. He was carrying a small package. ‘Tell Julia to wear these on Friday and tell her I’ll be around about eight o’clock.’ He tossed me the package, gave me a lecherous grin and left my room. It was not lost on me that he referred to Julia in the third person as if she was another person entirely, which in a way I was.”

“I was dreading Friday coming around but at the same time I was looking forward to it. I always looked forward to transforming into Julia but I knew that Uncle Charlie was coming to see me and would want some ‘slap and tickle’ as my father so eloquently put it. I felt a grave foreboding about seeing Charlie again because I knew what he would want me to do. But I was also strangely overjoyed that Charlie saw Julia as a woman and treated her like a woman.”

“I’d been having dreams… you know… sex dreams at night and I’d disappear into reveries during the day where my faceless handsome anonymous apparition; my chimaera if you will, took me in his arms and kissed me and then did things to me sexually. In my dreams I was the willing ingénue and my lover was a handsome young man, even though I couldn’t see his face and I didn’t know what those ‘sex things’ actually were.”

“I suppose I was naïve thinking that Uncle Charlie would just settle for some ‘slap and tickle’; some kissing and fondling. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Julia cleared her throat nervously.

“I didn’t open the package until Friday after mother and father had left for a weekend away at Brighton. The package contained a pair of white silk French knickers with lace trim and a pair of fully-fashioned stockings. I was appalled at the gall of Uncle Charlie but I was also thrilled that he had bought me the expensive underpants and hosiery. The stockings were so sheer that I wore hosiery gloves to put them on and fix them to my garters. To this day I recall how delightfully decadent they felt as I put them on, followed by the sensual flutter of the kickers gliding up my legs.”

“After the initial enchantment of putting on the garments and looking at myself in the full-length mirror I realised the problem with the knickers. I think I looked very sexy with my face tinctured with heavy makeup: black eyeliner and mascara, provocative eyeshadow, rouged cheeks and bright red lipstick, naked except for my alluring underwear. But my genitals were unfettered. I usually wore tight knickers to keep myself tucked when I wore stockings instead of tights.”

“I found a navy-blue A-line skirt which provided modesty whilst still showing off my long legs. I straightened the seams of my stockings and put on a white, almost transparent, chiffon blouse. I made the bold decision not to wear a brassiere and despite being flat-chested I have to admit that I looked quite alluring. I’d teased my hair just like Belinda had taught me and it framed my face beautifully.”

“Daddy didn’t like me having long hair but it was the fashion in the seventies and he grudgingly acquiesced after mummy told him to let it go,” Julia recalled wistfully.

Susan made some notes but kept silent and allowed Julia to continue.

“I’d painted my nails and put on a pendant necklace, earrings and bracelets; they were all cheap costume jewellery of course. If daddy found out that I’d pierced my ears he would have had a fit. Anyway, I put on my only pair of heels, sprayed myself with some of Belinda’s perfume and checked myself out in the mirror again.”

“I subconsciously berated myself for dressing so provocatively. I could just have easily have gone away for the weekend to visit Belinda in Oxford where she was living-in at Lady Margaret Hall. I could have just not transformed into Julia and spent the weekend as Justin, drinking beer and lounging on the couch watching television but I was defiant. My time spent as Julia was precious and Uncle Charlie would not prevent me from becoming the person I believed I was destined to be.”

“If I had to spend a few hours kissing, cuddling and diddling my ‘uncle’ then so be it! I could persevere with that indignity. That’s what I told myself but I had no idea what my Uncle Charlie had planned for me that weekend,” Julia visibly shuddered and Susan suspected that Julia’s tale was about to take a darker twist.

“I went downstairs and started drinking straight away; I think they call it Dutch courage. I put on my music and I’d had three gin and tonics before Uncle Charlie let himself in and found me dancing by myself in the lounge room. The lights were dim and the music was soft and Charlie stood in the doorway and watched me. I was determined not to show any fear,” Julia whispered.

“‘Don’t you look absolutely stunning,’ the flattery started straight away. Charlie moved into the room and made himself a drink and I kept dancing slowly and seductively. I was determined to show him that I wasn’t scared even though I could feel his eyes crawling over my body.”

“‘Did you like my gift?’ he asked as he approached me. I just nodded and kept dancing. ‘Show me,’ he came right up to me. ‘Show you what?’ I asked but I knew what he meant. ‘You know what I mean, show me!’ he smiled at me lecherously.”

“I stopped dancing and slowly lifted my skirt up my legs until the coffee-coloured welts of my stockings came into view, just visible under the legs of the French knickers he had bought me. This time he made no pretext of hiding his intent and he pulled me in into his embrace and kissed me passionately. I didn’t resist but I wasn’t actively participating either. Passive resistance I think they called back then,” Julie took a beat to catch her breath.

“His lips pressed against mine and his tongue slid into my mouth. This time his breath was pleasant. He must have chewed a Polo or a breath mint to freshen his breath. He pressed his body against me and I felt his erection rubbing against my belly. He guided my hand down there and I knew what I had to do. I would masturbate him just like last time and he would go away.”

“The record had stopped playing and the rasp of his flies as I unzipped his trousers sounded deafening in the silence. I put my hand inside his trousers eager to get it over with. I returned his kiss and slid my longue into his mouth as my fingers curled around his turgid manhood. Uncle Charlie gasped and his hand slipped under my skirt. He stoked my legs, his fingers tracing the backseam on my stockings, slowly working their way up my thighs to my stocking tops. My unfettered penis began to become tumescent despite my distaste,” Julie took a sip of water.

“I stroked him faster, keen to bring him to climax as soon as possible and to my surprise Charlie began to stoke my erection through my knickers and it was my turn to gasp,” Julia admitted.

Susan found herself imagining the scene in her head. The pretty eighteen-year-old ingénue being kissed by a much older man holding her tight, his hand under her skirt while she stroked his truncated penis that was poking out of trousers. The image was both disturbing and arousing and Susan crossed and uncrossed her legs. This was not professional. She’d heard similar stories in her capacity as a therapist: older men taking advantage of much younger women and she knew the psychological damage it could cause.

“There is no need to go on Julia. I can imagine what happened next,” Susan found her most professional and consoling voice.

“No you can’t. I tried to let Uncle Charlie let me bring him off with my hand but he pulled my hand away and put his hands on my shoulders and pressed them downwards. I had seen my father’s pornography collection and I knew why men wanted women on their knees, but I was powerless. I dropped to my knees and Uncle Charlie unbuckled his trousers and dropped them down to the floor, quickly followed by his underpants. His rampant weapon was level with my eyes.”

“He moved his hands to my head and guided my face to his groin and god help me I opened my mouth and took into it what he had to offer. I justified my actions to myself. I was the prey and he was the predator. I was the one being blackmailed. He would be believed and I would not be. But there was something else. When I masturbated looking at daddy’s pornography magazines, didn’t I imagine that I was the woman rather than the man? Hadn't I subconsciously wanted to be one of those women in those pictures subjugating themselves to a man? The women seemed to enjoy it as much as the men did, right?” Julia posed the rhetorical question to herself.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. My uncle’s swollen glans was leaking a continuous trickle of pre-ejaculate. Of course like every young man my age I had tasted my own and Charlie’s was no worse. It was both salty and sweet. His glans was slick and pink and bulbous, his shaft long, the skin velvety with veins running down the sides and underneath. Just like the ladies in the pictures I swallowed as much of his cock as I could.”

“I found that tickling his fraenulum with the tip of my tongue while I worked my lips up down the shaft gave Charlie the most pleasure. I had become that most despised but most yearned for type of woman of that era: a fellatrix, or to put it more bluntly, a cocksucker. The boys at school used the term disparagingly about certain girls but those boys who had experienced blowjobs were envied by those who had not. Such is the duplicity of men,” Julia observed.

“Charlie placed his hands on either side of my face; not forcefully but gently. He guided my head up and down and back and forth on his rampant phallus. Part of me wanted him to ejaculate quickly and another part of me wanted him to draw it out. My penis was erect inside my knickers and it felt like I might orgasm at any moment, the feelings were so intense. I felt weak and violated whilst at the same time I felt powerful and in control because Uncle Charlie was telling me how beautiful I looked, how sexy I was and what a wonderful job I was doing,” Julia admitted.

“He pushed his cock all the way in my mouth and ejaculated quite suddenly. I swallowed his rich, viscous issue and used my tongue to express all of his spend into my willing mouth. I hadn't climaxed and was relieved in a way that I hadn't. I had just done what any girl would have done in the same circumstances when faced with blackmail by an older man. I had submitted to his demands but I had not been a willing participant. Or had I?” another rhetorical question that remained unanswered.

“I thought that it was all over. I thought that Uncle Charlie would dress himself and leave, just like he did last time. But he didn’t. He helped me to my feet and he guided me to the sofa, kissing me while he did so. He had me lie down and he lay down on top of me and kept kissing me. His cock was still out and I could feel it rubbing on my stocking tops.”

“He was still erect and his penis was rubbing against mine through the satiny layer of knicker fabric. I struggled to get up but Charlie only laughed and kissed me harder and I realised that my struggles were only arousing his further so I lay still and let him kiss me. I let him rut against me, his hard cock pressing on my erect penis through my knickers. I tried to think of other things but his insistent kissing and the feel of his body on top of me and his manhood rubbing mine elicited unbidden sexual urges.”

“I could feel that I was about to climax and there was nothing I could do to stop it but Charlie suddenly stopped thrusting and kissing. He unbuttoned my blouse and his mouth went to my meagre breasts, his suckled and nipped my nipples and they became erect and tender to his touch. A warmth that I had never experienced before radiated from my nipples and I gasped.”

“I heard Uncle Charlie chuckle. He knew that I liked what he was doing to me despite my protests. He put his lips back on mine and slipped his tongue in my mouth and began to slowly hump me. Frottage the French call it. Rubbing cocks together like that,” Julia commented matter-of-factly.

“Anyway I couldn’t help myself and I wrapped my legs around his waist and put my arms around his bulky shoulders and held him close while I returned his kisses and raised my buttocks off the couch to meet his thrusts. We came together in an explosion of lust, our cocks thrusting against each other, our lips locked together, my tongue thrashing in his mouth. My knickers were drenched with semen and the stench of spunk filled the air.”

“Charlie was done and he jumped off me. He wiped his cock on my skirt and pulled up his trousers while I lay there defiled with my skirt hitched up, my knickers and stocking tops drenched in spunk. ‘Now you really look like whore,’ Charlie chuckled as he finished his drink and lit a cigarette.”

“‘I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time. Make sure you have used this,’ he tossed another package at me and left without saying another word.”

“I lay there like that for what seemed like an eternity. I was disgusted with myself because I had capitulated but I was proud of myself because I hadn't cried or shown any fear. I eventually found the will to take off my skirt and my semen-soaked knickers and I went upstairs and cleaned up, freshened my makeup and changed my clothes. I put the stockings and the French knickers in a hosiery bag and threw them in the washing machine along with the cum-spattered skirt.”

“I went back to the lounge room and made myself another drink and put my music back on. I was not going to let Uncle Charlie ruin the rest of my night. But… I recalled what he said to me before he left ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time’ and dread filled my heart. I would have to do it all over again. How long was this going to go on?”

“Then I remembered the package and I snatched it up off the couch and opened it. The item fell from my fingers and I gasped. It was a douche,” Julie whispered.

“Of course I knew what this implied and I was terrified. I was no virgin when it came to putting objects inside me for pleasure but the thought of being fucked was terrifying. This was going too far. I spent a sleepless night trying to figure out how I was going to rid myself of Uncle Charlie’s unwanted advances.”

“The next evening I made a phone call prior to transforming into Julia. I went into Belinda’s room and rummaged through the clothing she had left behind but it was slim pickings. Then I found her old school uniform: a grey pleated skirt, white cotton blouse and navy blazer with the school emblem embroidered on the pocket.”

“I figured Uncle Charlie would find it very exciting when he found me dressed as a schoolgirl,” Julia actually chuckled when she said this which Susan found a little unnerving.

“I suffered the indignity of using the douche before I showered and began my transformation. I spent quite some time in front of the mirror trying to get my hair in a style similar to Belinda’s blunt cut bob. After I had done my best I put on my makeup, mimicking Belinda’s makeup style which was minimal but heavy on the eyeliner to make a smoky eye. I wore sheer black tights with tight white rayon knickers over, put on the school uniform and took Belinda’s school shoes which were black patent leather low-heeled courts. Looking at myself in the mirror I did look very much like my sister so I went downstairs and made myself a drink.”

“I checked the time. Charlie would be here soon. Using the newly opened M23 I guessed it would take mommy and daddy two to three hours to get home from Brighton depending on the traffic. It was a bold move but I couldn’t go on being held hostage by my Uncle Charlie. At ten to eight I squeezed my feet into Belinda’s school shoes.”

“My plan was derailed from the start when Uncle Charlie came through the door with another man,” Julia took a beat before she continued.

“I didn’t know him and he looked very sleazy; bigger than Uncle Charlie and shabbily dressed. ‘I told you she was a stunner,’ Charlie said to his friend. ‘And look how she’s dressed. She’s quite the floozy dressing in her sister’s school uniform, she looks very much like my niece,’ Charlie said to his friend, talking about me as if I was just some mannequin. He didn’t even have the decency to address me directly.”

“There was no pretence of emotional or physically intimacy this time. Both men stripped naked and just glared at me. I considered bolting for the staircase but I knew that I would just be delaying the inevitable. I had no chance of fighting off these two ruffians so I stood defiantly and sipped my drink which was my fourth of the evening, hoping that the alcohol would dull my senses for what was coming.”

“They took turns kissing me, while the other groped me, pressing his cock against my legs and buttocks. I stood still and endured it, glancing up at the clock, willing for time to go faster. The men didn’t rush but they were insistent. When they guided my hand to their organs I stroked them like I knew Uncle Charlie liked me to but as soon as one of them was close to extremis the other took his place. It was as if they had rehearsed the scenario,” Julia took a sip of water and continued.

“Uncle Charlie led me to the couch and had me sit there. He hiked up my skirt and opened my legs, posing me like a whore. ‘She’s not wearing stockings,’ the stranger whined. I never knew his name and still don’t. ‘I don’t mind tights. I like the feel of the nylon against my groin. Stop whinging and get the Vaseline,’ Charlie said to his accomplice.”

“They forced me on my knees and took turns using my mouth. I worked so hard trying to get them to climax, trying to delay the inevitable, but as soon as they were close they would pull out and trade places. ‘I’m going first,’ Charlie said and I knew what was coming and looked hopefully up at the clock. Charlie pushed me down on my hands and knees. I remember the carpet chafed my knees. I was struggling now but I was no match for the two men,” Julie gulped water this time before she continued her sordid tale.

“The stranger stopped me from struggling while Uncle Charlie got on his knees behind me and eased aside the gusset of my knickers. I shook my buttocks in a feeble attempt to stop him but he just laughed and ripped out the crotch of my tights. The stranger handed Charlie the Vaseline and Charlie slid a finger inside me, then two. That was when I froze.”

“At first it hurt but the Vaseline made it tolerable. Then it didn’t. Just like that. I can’t lie to you. It began to feel nice. As I said I’d put things inside me before but Charlie’s fingers were tactile, he stroked a place deep inside me that radiated a very pleasant sensation. Then he pulled his fingers out and put more Vaseline in my crack and I felt him press the glans of his penis against my sphincter. I would have screamed if I could but the stranger had put his cock in my mouth,” Julia took a very deep breath.

“I would be lying if I said it wasn’t pleasant. Once Charlie had his cock inside me he stopped, I presume to allow me to get used to it. Now that he had done to me what I desperately didn’t want him to do, I figured that the best thing to do was to ensure that I didn’t have to endure any more pain so kept perfectly still and allowed my anus to accommodate his penis. When Charlie thought I was ready he put his hands on my waist and began to fuck me,” Julia shuddered as she recalled the memory.

“He fucked me and I let him. Even worse I suckled the strangers cock. It was somehow freeing. I could justify my actions. I was being forced to do this. I had no choice. But I moaned like a slattern when Charlie thrust his cock in and out of my tight passage, the glans pressed on my prostate and the base of his penis illicited little sparklets of pleasure from my sphincter. My cock was hard.”

“Charlie pulled me back against him and to my shame I ground my buttocks and pushed back against him as he released himself inside me. The stranger ejaculated in my mouth and I sucked every drop of semen from his cock. Feeling the stranger’s cock shudder in my mouth while Uncle Charlie’s penis juddered and expelled his issue deep inside my anus triggered my own orgasm. I flooded my tights. The feeling was like nothing I had ever felt before. I felt degraded but at the same time I felt exalted. I was being forced to do this but at the same time capitulating freed me of guilt, at least for now,” Julia sighed.

“I looked up at the clock. It had been three hours since I had made my phone call.”

“My mother and father burst through the door and that was how they found me, being, what do they call it? - spit-roasted, by my Uncle Charlie and the stranger. When I telephoned them earlier in the afternoon I told mommy and daddy that they needed to come home urgently but had not told them why, only that I was in terrible trouble. I had deliberately dressed in Belinda’s clothes and styled my hair like hers,” Julia explained.

“I remember my father yelling: ‘Jesus Christ Charlie! What the hell are you doing, fucking my daughter?’ and Uncle Charlie just laughing at daddy.”

“‘I'm not fucking your daughter Henry, I’m buggering your son,’ Charlie replied before daddy lunged at him. The stranger ran for the door, stopping only briefly to snatch up his clothes. He got away but my father got a hold of Charlie and beat him senseless. Of course once daddy had dealt with Uncle Charlie he blamed me. He wasn’t interested in anything I had to say,” Julia sighed.

“He made Charlie pay for his indiscretion and breach of trust though. He didn’t just beat him up he ruined him. Daddy was a rich and powerful man with powerful friends and Uncle Charlie was ostracised from the family and daddy and his friends drove him into bankruptcy. I was told that I would pay for my sins,” Julia reached for her purse and took out her vape.

She was finished for the day and Susan was glad that Julia had finally finished recalling her memories.

“Well at least we have spoken about all your demons. Your Uncle Charlie got his comeuppance, so I suppose that is some form of justice. Now that we have finished talking about the abuse you suffered we can start talking about ways to help you deal with the psychological issues the abuse caused ,” Susan put down her pen and notebook and reached for her own vape.

“Oh you silly woman. That wasn’t the end of it. That was just the beginning. I have so much more to tell you,” Julia took a deep pull on her vape and blew out the vapour in a long stream.

To be continued…