Playtime Is Over

The state has barred a child psychologist from using adult sex toys in therapy sessions.

Dicke, who seems pleased to hear of the boy's progress, turns to Dallas and asks if he remembers their last session together, five days before.

"Did you bring the winkies?" Dallas asks.

"What did you think of winkies for?" Dicke asks him.

John Dicke believes he's found a way to help children who have been victims of sexual abuse.
John Johnston
John Dicke believes he's found a way to help children who have been victims of sexual abuse.
Karen believes Dr. Dicke's therapy was helping her son, Dallas.
John Johnston
Karen believes Dr. Dicke's therapy was helping her son, Dallas.

"Because I like winkies," Dallas says. He walks over to Dicke's desk and gets the dildos out of the drawer. He tells Dicke that the large one smells.

"Like what?" Dicke asks.

"My dad's," Dallas says.

Dallas disappears behind the love seat, and Karen and the therapist ask him what he's doing. He comes out laughing, with his pants unzipped.

"If you're going to take your pants off, go ahead," Dicke says. So Dallas takes off everything but his underwear.

"Why do you take your clothes off all the time?" Dicke asks him.

"Because I like it," he says.

"Why do you always show me your butt?" Dicke says. "You just love to come here and take your clothes off."

Dallas walks backwards in Dicke's direction.

"You're showing me your butt again," Dicke says.

"No, I'm not," Dallas says. "I'm walking backwards."

A door in another office slams and Dallas mistakes the sound for that of Dicke's door opening. He runs and hides behind the ottoman. "Are you scared to get caught with your clothes off?" Dicke asks.

Dallas doesn't answer, but later retreats behind the love seat.

"What are you doing now?" Dicke asks. "I bet you're not naked."

Dallas reappears completely undressed and finds some of Dicke's business cards lying on a table. He hands them to his mom and Dicke. "Here's some Christmas cards for you," he says.

"Well, let's talk about Christmas," Dicke says.

Dallas, who is sitting on his mom's lap, gets off and rolls onto the ottoman. "That hurts my butt," he says, even though no one is touching him.

"Is that why you're giving us Christmas cards? Because you want to talk about Christmas?" Karen asks him.

"No," Dallas says.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"I'm not sure," he answers.

"Have you ever had a winkie in your mouth before?" Dicke asks him.

"Yes," Dallas says.

"Was it this big?" Dicke asks, referring to the small dildo.

"It was this big," Dallas says, holding the big one.

With Dallas on her lap, Karen explains that Dallas recently told her that a male friend of hers had asked him to lick ice cream off his penis and that she's not sure if it really happened or if Dallas dreamt it.

"Not a friend of yours. It's Robbie's," Dallas interrupts, referring to the friend's son (whose name has been changed). "It was real."

When Dicke asks him what happened, Dallas spits at him and shrieks. He throws the dildo up against the ceiling, and Dicke catches it. "Whose winkie was the big winkie in your mouth?" he asks.

Dallas tries to pry the dildo out of Dicke's hand, and they get into a tug-of-war with it. Karen holds her son and asks him herself, but gets no response.

"Whose winkie was in your mouth?" Dicke repeats.

"It was Robbie's," Dallas says.

Dicke puts the dildos away and tells the boy, "Time to put your clothes on. It's time to go."

"No," Dallas pleads.

"You don't remember," Dicke says, trying to cajole Dallas into elaborating. It works.

"Yes I do," Dallas says. "I do remember."

"You don't want to go? You're having fun?" Dicke asks.

"I am having fun," Dallas answers.

To Karen, Dicke says, "He said very clearly that he had a big winkie in his mouth, but I don't think he remembers."

"Yes I do, yes I do," Dallas says.

He runs around the room, playing, then jumps on the couch. Dicke grabs him and tells him that they need to straighten out what happened with Robbie.

"Where's the big winkie?" Dallas asks, looking around. "Let me find it, let me find it."

Dicke holds the large one out to Dallas, and the little boy says, "Let me bite on it, let me bite on it."

Dallas puts his mouth over the dildo while Dicke holds it. Dallas bites on it, then lets go.

"Whose winkie is it?" Karen asks.

"Robbie's."

"Who's Robbie?" Dicke asks.

"He's my buddy," Dallas says.

Dallas throws the dildo, and Dicke retrieves it. The boy screeches and tries to break free from his mother, who is now holding him. He bites her arm, and she and Dicke ask him if what he's telling them really happened.

"Whose winkie is it?" Dicke asks.

"Put it back in my mouth," Dallas says.

Dicke does. The little boy sucks on the dildo and then Dicke lets go of it. Dallas continues licking it like a lollipop before throwing it across the room. Dicke picks it up and hands it back to Dallas, but the boy cries out and spits. Dicke puts the dildos back in his desk and says, "We don't know whose winkie was in your mouth."

"I don't want to go," Dallas says. "I want to get the winkies."

So he does. He comes back with the big one in his mouth, saying it's Robbie's.

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