Also Blog Homework’s
2/27 Share an experience you’ve had or friendship you have made through SuicideGirls.
5/13 Tell us about a time that you helped out someone in need, or a time when you were in need.
6/9 Tell us about a time that you stood up for yourself.
This is not going to be easy for me to write and I would suggest if you are easily upset if you hear of bad things happening to others you consider not reading on. I have chosen to use Blog Homework 10/30 as the main title for this as it’s the main one and the one thing that has left me with lasting effects.However all of the above Blog Homework titles are featured in a part of this blog. So here goes...
16 years ago I was visiting my own family doctors as I had been feeling extremely down after having a miscarriage and having to spend time in hospital. The doctor I saw decided that even though a colleague of his had seen me several days before and did not feel that it was necessary to do an internal examination that I needed to have one. At this point in time I did not see anything wrong with his suggestion as we all usually expect that your doctor can be trusted to know what he/she is doing. He asked me to lay down on his examination couch and then told me to bend my legs at the knees and open them wide after removing my panties. I did as he told me and placed my panties on the end of the couch. Had I not been so depressed at the time I would possibly of questioned why he wanted to do an internal examination on a patient who had come to see him solely because they were depressed. The doctor pulled on a glove and squeezed gel onto the fingers. He used his other hand and arm to push one of my legs hard apart from the other and pin it down, so that I would be unable to close my legs if I tried. He placed several fingers inside of me and at the same time used his thumb to rub over the top of my clitoris then he started to move the fingers that were inside and started pushing them in and out. By now I was beginning to realise that something was not right and I was becoming rather agitated. I tried to close my legs and found I could not, so I tried to pull myself further up the couch to get away from him. It was no use he had me pinned down so well there was nothing I could do. At this point he seemed to sense that I wanted him to stop and he loosened his grip and removed his fingers. However my ordeal was far from over, he picked up my panties that were still placed on the couch near to where he was standing. He fondled them, put them in front of his face and started to sniff them. By now I had managed to close my legs and had swung them round so that I was sitting on the edge of the couch. I snatched my panties from his hand telling him I wanted them to put back on. By now I was ready to just run from his office and never set foot in there again. As I started to stand up he grabbed hold of me by my shoulders, pulling me in towards him so that he had me trapped in a position where he was cuddling me. Tears were streaming down my face and my stomach was churning making me feel sick. I needed to get out of there fast but he still would not let go of me. He turned so that he was facing me and I will never forget his words as long as I live. “I really don’t know why you are suddenly so upset my dear. You’ve never had a problem having an internal examination before and you didn’t have a problem with the one I just gave you did you? It sounded more like a command than a question coming from him at that point. I didn’t answer him I continued to struggle until I was free of his grip and then I threw the door open and ran. I’m not sure how far I had managed to get when I stopped running, sank down to the pavement and sat there with my knees pulled tight to me just sobbing. I needed help, I needed protection, I needed to be home and never go out again. I remembered I had my mobile phone on me and I rang home to my husband, a call he will never forget receiving from me. I told him that I thought my doctor had just sexually assaulted me and that it all seemed to happen so fast I had been powerless to stop him. He told me to get home as quickly as I could and that I could explain everything to him when I got there and we could decide what to do. It took me about 5 minutes to finish the journey home and when I got home I burst into yet more floods of tears and nothing he could do would comfort me. He made me a coffee and sat down with me to listen to what had happened at the doctors. When I had finished telling him he was so worked up and angrier than he had ever been in his life. He asked me if I would like him to go to our doctors office bust the door down and beat the living crap out of the doctor responsible for doing it. I said no I didn’t want him to do that because I needed him more than anything now I had been through this and him being sent to prison for assault or worse would not help me. I decided that I wanted to report what had happened to the police as soon as I had calmed down a little and pulled myself together. After a very short while I felt ready to make a report to the police so my husband Telephoned 999 {would be 911 in America). I knew it was going to be his word against mine, him a professional qualified doctor and me a little nobody working in an office to make ends meet. I didn’t even know if the police would believe what I told them, I still found it hard to believe what had just happened to me. The operator my husband spoke to said that they would get somebody round to speak with us as soon as possible and not to go anywhere until they had been. Whilst we were waiting for someone to arrive I asked my husband a question that to anyone else would seem a strange thing to ask after I had been sexually assaulted. However because of who I am and how I am which is a nymphomaniac and for me I am aroused for a good proportion of the day, the question was very valid and would serve as proof of the assault. I asked my husband to look at my clitoris and vaginal opening to look for signs that they were engorged and swollen. For me that is a clear sign that they have been stimulated for a period of time. It is not something I have control of, or can switch off if I am touched when I don’t wish to be. He told me it was very obvious that I had been played with and I looked as he would expect me to after foreplay. Then our home telephone rang, it was the practice manager who was in charge of the doctor’s surgery where my assault had taken place. When my husband answered he asked if he could speak to me. My husband told him that there was no way I was going to be speaking to him or the doctor concerned as I was in no fit state to be doing so after what had happened. The practice manger carried on insisting that he really must speak with me and promised that it would only be him and not the doctor I saw. Eventually I agreed and I said to my husband “I’ll speak to him but if I don’t like what he has to say I can always hang up on him”. My husband pass the phone over to me and to my horror and disgust it turned out he only wanted to speak to me so that he could try to tell me that I had been totally mistaken and nothing untoward had taken place between the doctor and myself. I told him we had already called the police and were waiting for an officer to arrive. I ended the call and immediately told my husband what he had just tried to do. He was trying to cover up the fact that I had been assaulted and stop me from going to the police about it. The police sent round a WPC who on arrival said “I understand you would like to report an assault, can you tell me what happened”. I explained what had taken place at the doctor’s surgery and my husband explained about my phone call to him and how distraught I was. He also explained about checking to see if I showed signs of arousal and why I had asked him to do so. The WPC made lots of notes and said three words to me that at the time were the best three words I could have ever hoped of hearing “I Believe you”. “This is a very serious offence that has been committed and it is not something that an ordinary police constable can deal with or myself in my capacity of police constable responsible for dealing with child abuse cases”. I need to pass this on to my colleagues in the CID department who will carry out the investigation. True to her word the day after they sent round a CID officer who firstly apologised for the fact that he was male and explained that our local police station did not have any female CID officers. He also told me they were going to be drafting a female CID officer in from a neighbouring force for the duration of the investigation so as to make things feel more comfortable for me. This was done but the very same day that first WPC had seen me the doctor’s surgery was raided and all of their paper and electronic files were seized. As the investigation progressed the police soon had suspicions that my assault was not the first one to take place and that other victims were out there, who for whatever reason had not previously come forward to report their assault. They found that records had been altered and details changed after an appointment had taken place to make it seem as if examinations of breasts and virgina’s had been needed because of the reason the appointments had been made. By the time the police investigation had concluded and the other possible victims had been contacted they discovered that he was responsible for a possible 10 counts of sexual assault in varying degrees, over a period of 18 years. All of the victims had either been depressed and so low they were not able to respond normally or had some form of mental disability. He was selecting patients whom he considered unlikely to really notice or understand what he was doing to them and therefore unlikely to report him. The practice manager had been informed by a couple of these patients that something was not quite right about the way they been examined by the d0octor but he had been successful in making sure that the complaints were left with him and no one had previously gone to the police. It came out in court that the doctor had fondled one woman’s breasts and told her this was the way her partner should be touching her in foreplay to get her nipples nice and hard. Another was told that he was doing an internal examination because she liked being touched down there. Before my assault I had been living a very enjoyable lifestyle and part of my enjoyment was posting adult photographs of myself on amateur sites and working as a phone sex line operator. All of this stopped suddenly after my assault as I was severely affected and could no longer do any of these things. To this day I still suffer from Iatrophobia and if I need to be seen by a doctor I always take a friend or family member with me. During the period when the assaults were being investigated we were living in a rented flat and unbeknown to us our landlord was a member of the same gentleman’s club as the doctor who happened to be a close friend of his. Whilst he was in our flat carrying out maintenance works that he said needed doing, he riffled through some of our belongings and took several of the printed copies of my adult photographs. I had always been honest and open about the things we did in the flat as I saw no reason to hide my work or photos from him. The photographs he took away were passed on to the doctor who had assaulted me by him. He intended to get his defence lawyer to use them in court to suggest that I had made up the story of being assaulted to fulfil some sort of perverted sexual fantasy. When the case was finally brought to court after 2 years of investigations I was kept on the witness stand for a total of a whole day. Most of it by the defence, trying to break me down and make the jurors believe I was lying. I was not called until the afternoon and as the defence had not finished putting me through hell for the second time(the first time being my assault) before court closed for the day, I was expected to return to the stand first thing the next morning. As my husband had not yet given evidence we were both pulled in front of the judge who told us we were to have no contact with each other from then until after he had given his evidence so that we could not discuss the case. This felt harsh, not only was the defence attacking me now the judge was pulling my support network out from under my feet as well. I couldn’t understand why the judge was being so hard on me when I was not the one who had done anything wrong. The next morning the defence continued to berate me and by the mid morning recess I was crying my eyes out again and telling the victim’s support councillors at the court that I couldn’t carry on. I could not take any more from his QC and wanted to just go home. Between them and a old friend of mine who happened to work as a security guard at the crown court they managed to calm me down again and persuaded me that it surely would come to an end soon and that I needed to make sure he was found guilty so that I could stop him from ever being able to put someone else through the ordeal I had been forced to suffer. After taking a few Valium tablets to calm me down that my new doctors had prescribed for me to get me through the ordeal that was to be the trial and taking a slightly longer recess as applied for by the police on my behalf. I went back into the court room and stood in the witness box with renewed strength, determined that I was not going to let him get away with what he had done to me. If the other victim’s who had bottled up what they went through for so many years, could have it all dragged back up and face him in court then I could too. Before the jury were sent away to deliberate on the evidence placed before them and vote guilty or not guilty so that a verdict could be reached the judge carried out a summing up. He instructed the jurors that as the assaults all shared some details that the evidence of the more serious assaults should be taken into account when deciding on the verdicts of the lesser charges. After what seemed like forever, although only a few days had passed the jury returned a verdict of not guilty on one of the counts due to the crown not providing evidence and guilty on all other counts. The judge handed down a total sentence of one year. This in itself we felt was bad enough, only getting one year for nine counts of sexual assault and abusing his position as a doctor to commit them. However there was still some hope, helped by a very sympathetic solicitor who was the sister of the Solicitor General for England and with the permission of myself, his last victim, the case was taken to the court of appeal in London. The Appeal Court ruled six convictions unsafe because of misdirection by the trial judge. The three convictions upheld including mine were ruled as "unusual and striking in kind". This was a huge blow for the police who had invested so much time into the investigation of these assaults and to the victims who would not have their suffering recognised by a court of law in this country. The appeal court’s ruling was because the original trial judge had failed to direct the jury that they should not take into account evidence given about the three more serious charges when deciding on the six lesser assault charges. Adding that the trial judge had failed to give a clear, warning that the evidence on each charge faced by the doctor had to be considered separately. The court said the ruling was "in no way a reflection" on any of the women involved. The new sentencing was handed down and he was sentenced to six months concurrent on the lesser assault charges and 12 months concurrent on the more serious ones. This meant he would now serve a total sentence of 18 months which was nowhere near long enough in the view of his victims or the police. Especially as double jeopardy would apply and he would not be able to be retried for those charges ruled as unsafe by the appeal court, back in the crown court. After everything that I had been through I felt not so much sorry just for myself but for the other victims who had done their best to forget about what had happened. Until I reported my assault to the police, causing them to investigate and find the other victims. What had this done to them, dragging back up the past they were trying to forget? I asked the CID officers in charge of the case to pass my home telephone number on to every single one of his victims and to tell them that I would be happy for them to get in touch with me for any reason. Even if it was to get angry over the fact that past history for them had been dragged up and buried feelings brought to the surface. Several of the other victims did get in touch and I had regular conversations with one in particular who was struggling to deal with her assault still and other troubles that life had thrown at her. I wanted to be able to help in some way, just stopping him from ever hurting another woman was not enough. I felt I needed to do more, in a sense it was my way of trying to deal with what had happened myself. However years have gone by and I was still not sharing my pictures and had not felt able to go back to my telephone job. I seemed to be shutting myself away from society when it came to my body. Then one day I happened across an episode of CSI New York Oedipus Hex season 3, episode 5. I watched and saw the suicide girls, Missy, Amina, Al, Fractal, Razzi, Zoli, Sawa and Nixon. I liked what I was seeing very much but was it for real or just another example of Anthony E Zuiker’s vivid imagination set out on screen. I turned on my computer and immediately began searching the web and what a search it was. I found suicidegirls.com and the free tour pictures you could slideshow through. The memory of how much I had once enjoyed posting my pictures on line came flooding back to me when I saw the girls with tattoos and piercings just like me. I knew right away that I had to somehow be a part of that site, I considered the idea of sending in my own photo shoot and trying out as a hopeful. Then I realised that if I was successful and was able to become a SuicideGirl it might mean I got paid for my sets. This is something I have never wanted to do, I pose and post for the fun not the money and was worried that the fun would go for me if I earned from my photos. So eventually I decided to become a member instead and after a year of being so decided that I would post the set I had taken as a members post. I owe a lot to finding suicidegirls.com and to Missy and all the other girls who make the site what it is. I might still be hiding my body from the world now if it were not for them. So I thank Missy and all the girls who have ever posted photos and blogs. The members, whom some of seem to like my photos and have helped to boost my confidence again by commenting on them. So that is my blog homework, I hope it has not been too long for some of you to read and I hope that if you have read this you will understand a little about why I’m here and why I post my photos. Putting all of this down in writing has also helped me to say enough is enough I will no longer allow my life to be ruled by the affects of what that doctor did to me. I am here and I am strong and I will live as I want to and used to. So this is not a sad moment for me it is a happy one as I now feel I am almost fully back to being myself and able to enjoy life as I once did.
