Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1982

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1982
by Angharad

Copyright © 2013 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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“Mum, there you are,” Danny came running up the stairs after me. “How’s Peter?”

“Slightly better, but still very poorly.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s go in your room and we can talk a little more privately.”

He led me into his room and cleared the chair for me to sit on while he perched on the end of his bed. “What’s with all the secrecy?” he asked as I closed his door.

“If I tell you what appears to have happened, I need two promises from you.”

“Course,” he drew a cross over his heart.

“This is very difficult,” I paused wondering how best to do this. “I need you to never talk to anyone about this without Peter’s expressed permission. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he looked bemused.

“I mean it, Dan. Peter’s life is going to get a lot harder in the coming weeks and months.”

He looked even more puzzled.

“The second promise I need, is if you continue to be a friend of Peter’s, you must never let on that you know what happened, unless he tells you and you must never use this knowledge against him–and I mean never.”

“What’s happened?” the concern on his face was very obvious.

“Peter had an accident this morning, and nearly bled to death.”

“Oh my god–what happened?”

“He severed his penis and testes.”

“Oh f–lip,” he gasped almost checking his own were there with one hand while the other went up to his mouth. “Can they sew them back on?”

“I don’t think so, they were too badly damaged.”

“Bloody hell–what’s going to happen to him–is he gonna be like Trish?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know what will happen to him. I don’t think he was inclined to be girlish was he?”

“No,” he said forcefully, “No way, he was a regular guy until you know what happened.” He paused thinking for a moment. “I’m like, not gonna do that, am I?”

“Good lord, no.”

“So what happened?”

“This is in total confidence–if ever you tell anyone about this, including Peter, I shall never trust you again. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mum,” he nodded to emphasise the point.

“Good. This is only my opinion, but I suspect Peter accidentally had a discharge of seminal fluid from his prostate when he was penetrated during the attack.”

“Does that mean he came?”

“Sort of, if the prostate is pressed, then it causes ejaculate to be released. It can be pleasant, so I’m informed, but in those circumstances, I very much doubt it. However, and it’s only my opinion, I suspect Peter was very upset by this and it played on his mind.”

“So he, like thought he was gay?”

“No, I don’t think so, or perhaps he did, I don’t know, but either way in his upset, and he wasn’t thinking logically, he severed the bits he thought had betrayed him so it couldn’t happen again.”

“Bloody hell–how could he do that?”

“When you’re upset your mind works differently and what can seem like a good idea isn’t when you calm down.”

“So he’s like a girl, now?”

“No, having a penis doesn’t make you a boy, anymore than not having one makes you a girl. Your gender or sexuality happens between your ears not between your legs–that’s a very small part of it.”

He had a think about that, “Okay, so he’s still a boy, how’s he gonna pee?”

“He’ll still have a urethral opening but he’ll have to sit to wee unless the surgeons can do something clever to lengthen it.”

“Like a girl does?”

“Yes and no. Don’t you ever wee when you’re sat on the loo?”

“Yeah, when I’m having a cr–poo.”

“Does that make you a girl?”

“Course not.”

“So Peter having to sit, at least temporarily, won’t make him a girl either.”

“How could he do that–to himself–man, that’s well crazy.” He thought about it and I saw him flinch. “He won’t try to do it to me as well, will he?”

“Why should he?”

“Well because I was attacked at the same time.”

“But you didn’t have a discharge, did you?”

He went very red and very silent, “I couldn’t help it,” he said and burst into tears. I moved to sit on the bed and he threw himself into my arms, “I’m not gay too, am I?”

I comforted him as he sobbed, “I don’t wanna be gay, Mummy.”

“Darling, you’re not as far as I know, and even if you were, we’d all still love you.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he kept repeating.

“I know sweetheart.” I stroked the back of his head as his face lay buried in my chest.

“Those fuckin’ frogs–I’m not gay. I couldn’t help coming, Mummy–I didn’t mean to.”

“Now then, let’s be realistic about this. Being sexually assaulted doesn’t make anyone gay or straight–that’s something you’re born with. What we have to do with Stephanie, is to help you deal with any fears you have arising from it and how to deal with them, and to take away any guilt you might have. You’re not gay after what happened anymore than you were before, and none of it was your fault. You were attacked. Pure and simple–you didn’t invite it did you?”

He mumbled into my chest.

“Please speak to me properly.”

He was blushing like a heat lamp. “We laughed at them.”

“What d’you mean, you laughed at them?”

“We decided all frogs are poofs an’ I think Peter might have said so out loud.”

“Did he do this or not?”

“I’m sorry,” he burst into tears, “we didn’t know they understood what he said, they followed us into the toilet an’...”

Oh shit–this whole thing was avoidable–and now the two men are dead. Shit, shit, shit. No, what they did was wrong but those men overreacted times ten–nothing could justify that. How can you teach children not to do stupid things? Especially boys. I don’t know about Danny needing a psychiatrist, I almost feel I do–a stupid throwaway taunt and two or three men are dead and a thirteen year old boy is castrated by his own hand and nearly died. How can you get your head round that?

It’s as crazy as men suggesting that any woman who wears provocative clothing or is out late at night, is guilty if she gets raped, and that women shouldn’t show off their bodies without being aware of the consequences. It’s false logic, it’s the man’s responsibility to stop when the woman or another man, says no. If he can’t control his feelings or his urges then he’s in the wrong and we need to change his mindset. No one has the right to make another person have sex with them if they are too young, immature, drunk or sick to make an informed decision. There is no excuse. At the same time, we as women (and some men) have a responsibility to avoid risk where possible–but that isn’t always possible–and the ultimate responsibility rests with the attacker. But in town and city centres every weekend you see scantily clad young women absolutely paralytic through alcohol, falling down in the gutter because they are so drunk they can’t stand or walk or look after themselves. That is plain stupid for all sorts of reasons, including the risk of attack or robbery or abduction, not to mention regular behaviour like this is why we’re seeing people in their twenties with alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver–and we’re looking for intelligent life forms on other planets? There’s none on this one.

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