Mr Big

The thought of prison scares me, it always has.  For as long as I can remember I’ve had a recurring fear of being jailed and then serially gang raped in the communal showers by “Mr Big” and his cronies.

I have no idea where that fear comes from.  As far as I can recollect I have never been raped, nor have I ever had sex with another man, consensual or otherwise.  I lead a fairly conventional life and I’ve never been to prison, either as a visitor or as an inmate.

And just to be clear, it’s not jail itself I fear, it’s the potential for physical and sexual abuse in jail from other men that bothers me. I don’t worry about the isolation or the incarceration particularly, although I am sure that gets to you after a while, what troubles me most is the potential for physical violence and sexual abuse that I imagine is rife in there.

When I have expressed this fear to friends of mine, they have suggested that I must have latent homosexual tendencies, that I harbour a desire to be violated by a burly bloke, but isn’t that a bit like saying, if I fear having my eyeballs gouged out with a rusty fork, that I must secretly desire to be blinded?  It worries me though, what if my friends are right?  Damn you, so called friends.

Getting old bothers me and will no doubt be covered in other blogs, but one advantage I see of getting old is that if I did ever go to jail, I would become less sexually attractive to the other inmates.

But hang on … as I get older, I get weaker, less able to fight back, so perhaps I become MORE accessible with age and MORE of a target to testosterone filled young men with a pathological bias towards sex and violence.

Angry, violent men with no outlet for their sexual tension except for the quivering old bloke in the corner …. Oh God.

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