This web site contains stories of physical, mental, emotional, and sexual child abuse.

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I don't remember exactly whose birthday it was that day. I do remember looking around the large dining-room wondering who would be lucky enough to get a piece of the small, nine inch, round, un-frosted cake. The small, golden brown mound had been set down beside the place setting of "Mother Winters", the head matron.

Charity, the black, head cook at the orphanage, always set the cakes beside Mother Winter's seating position.

After we had eaten our meal of egg-plant, beans and rice one of the boys was called to come over and receive his birthday cake. When he arrived at the head matron's position; Mother Winters began to cut the cake into small, thin slices. Each slice, as it was cut, was placed onto a small round plate and then handed to the young boy. He would then walk around the dining-room and place the cake before whom ever he wanted to have a piece. I was quite surprised when I was selected to be the first boy to receive a piece of the cake.

As the boy sat the cake down in front of me I asked him if Judy Hindsman could have my slice of cake. He picked up the small plate and he walked over to where Judy was sitting and he placed the cake down in front of her.

"This is from Roger" He told her.

"DID YOU SPEAK TO HER?" Screamed out Mother Winters.

"Yes Ma'am. I just said it's from Roger." Said the young boy.

"You get your little ass back to your seating position." She instructed him, slinging her arms about in the air like a crazy woman.

All sixty of the kids watched as he, with his head down, slowly walked back to his seat.

The head matron got up from her seat and with her arm she deliberately knocked the cake off the table and onto the floor. Almost in a full gallop she headed to where Judy Hindsman was sitting.

"DID YOU SPEAK TO HIM?" She blurted out, as she grabbed Judy by the hair of the head.

"I just said tell Roger Thank you." She responded.

"Did you speak to him, you little slut?" She said to Judy, jerking her head, back and forth, from right to left.

All at once Mother Winters reached out and grabbed Judy by her face. When she did her thumb went into Judy's mouth. She then began lifting Judy up, out of her chair, by her jaw.

"YOU DON'T TALK TO A BOY. YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT. DON'T YOU?" yelled out the matron, at the top of her voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mother Winters." said Judy, as though she were gagging and choking.

"Have you been checking these girls panties everyday?" Asked Mother Winters, as she looked over at the matron who was in charge of the girl's dormitory.

I watched as she nodded her head to the affirmative.

Most of us kids were about ten years old at that time. I never really understood why Mother Winters would have someone check the girls panties every day. At that time that statement didn't make any sense to me. However, some fifty years later I found another one of the girls named "Margaret" who also lived in the orphanage with us. She told me that all the girls were lined up against the wall, every morning and every evening, and they were made to drop their panties for "a visual inspection." This was the head matron's way of making sure that if any girl had sexual thoughts, of any kind. That they would be caught, at an early age, and severely punished.

I tell this story because I want people to know how horrible it was to have to live, our entire childhood, under those conditions. The last I heard about Judy was in 1991. Someone told me that they had heard that she had moved to California in the 1970s and that she had become a x-rated movie star. I guess the "panty inspections" really did not work after all.

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