S.A.R.D. #12 – Sexually Assaulted (NSFW 21+)

WARNINGI’m going to be discussing something of an adult nature. I am whipping this out as it comes to mind and I have thoughts that are raw and uncensored – I may or may not use vulgarity. Oh, and it may have tons of grammatical and spelling errors too (Oh, the horror!?!?!). This post is intended for mature audiences. Also, names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

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It’s been a while since I last posted in my Sexual and Relationship Development series, but in light of current events, I can’t help but make mention of my own involvement with sexual assault where I was a victim. I’m not going to discuss my own opinion about the current nominee to the U.S. Supreme Court, because I have noticed that my opinion is triggering and angering to many people. Although, there are plenty of people that have a similar opinion as myself, I notice that the subject matter is sensitive and heightens emotions on both sides of the issue. With that being said, however, I think everyone can agree that sexual assault is horrendous. Period.

In the last blog, I kept, I shared a story about my own involvement in being sexually assaulted. Basically, it amounted to a “date-rape” situation. I’m going to discuss it again, but I wanted to just mention other situations that I had been involved in that I can’t help but imagine they have impacted my view on sex and sexuality. Obviously, since some of it happened when I was a child, I am thankful it didn’t twist me in such away that I ever became a perpetrator of anything horrendous, but it didn’t create doubt about myself – at the very least.

My earliest recollection of anything sexual in my mind, I had mentioned in my first post in S.A.R.D. that I had a sexual encounter when I was very young. In this post, I discussed the molestation I had received from a babysitter. I also explained the confusion it gave me when trying to understand my own sexuality. I feel like there were two impacts of this that skewed my reality. One is that it always left me wondering if my sexuality was natural or if it were imposed upon me. This is the nature vs. nurture debate that goes on when discussing sexuality, but it was occurring within my own emotional response. The other thing it left me with is an unrealistic expectation of penis size.  Although it might seem somewhat laughable, I have always felt my penis was small and it left me with a desire to play with larger cocks than might be considered “normal”.  This was my reality, this was my perception. And it wasn’t good for me.

Another situation that occurred, and I don’t believe I have mentioned it in my S.A.R.D. (I just checked and I haven’t mentioned it), involved the son of a man that my aunt had been married to for a brief time.  Since I spent a lot of time with my cousin growing up, I had as much exposure to her “step-brother” as she did…and I can’t help but imagine what shit she faced as a young girl (whole other story…). But I remember one time staying with my cousin and her step-brother (Let’s call him Brandon) and I would sleep in the same bed. I think I was 11 or 12 and he was a couple years older – maybe 13 or 14. And I remember one night laying in bed and feeling his hand slide down my underpants and begin rubbing my penis.  I woke up and looked at him, shocked I’m sure, and he was smiling and said something like, “Oh I was thinking of my girlfriend…  Do you have a girl you like at school? You can pretend I’m her and I can keep touching you.” I don’t remember the exact words, but it was the message I received. I remember feeling confused about the interaction. It felt wrong, emotionally, but it felt good on a physical level. At the time, I allowed it, thinking that it was okay. But the longer he kept rubbing me, the more disgust I began feeling with myself.  I pushed his hand away and he grabbed my hand and put it on his penis. I rubbed him because I thought that if I kept doing that, he wouldn’t want to touch me and I didn’t want him touching me. Then he rolled on top of me and began moving his hips up and down and called me a girl’s name I don’t remember now.  After a few minutes, he rolled off and asked me if I wanted to pretend he was a girl. I declined and rolled over to pretend I was asleep. I felt guilty and didn’t want to tell anyone about it.

The third assault I wanted to discuss, happened in my late teens. I was, maybe 17 or 18.  It occurred with David, whom I had discussed here in reference to losing my virginity. Another time, after a few encounters he and I had, I had gone to his place. No one was there, but he and I. We were going to watch movies together and although I didn’t officially call him my boyfriend, I kind of felt like we were seeing each other. I was sitting n his couch and he was sitting in a chair as we watched the movie. I remember him looking at me and eventually said, “Come over here.” So, I walked over to him and he grabbed my hips and turned me around to have me sit on his lap.  I felt a little awkward, but as I sat on his lap I could feel he had an erection. He pushed upward and I could feel his penis pushing into the fabric and material of the pants I was wearing and putting pressure on my anus.  He then tried to pull me around, in a contorted position to try and kiss me.  I refused and told him I wasn’t comfortable.

Then, he stood up, causing me to stand too. He then pulled me out of his way and forcefully guided me to lean over the chair. It was very obvious he wanted to fuck me. He pushed me up against the chair and I felt somewhat panicked. I don’t understand why I froze; I didn’t feel comfortable. I was bent over the chair with a knee on the cushion and standing on my other leg. I looked back at him and said, “I don’t want to do this.”

He looked at me with a fierce, hungry, almost slobbering smile and said something like, “You’re my bitch. I’m going to fuck you when I want to”. He chuckled and  pushed me over some more and pulled my pants down around my ankles. He stepped on my pants and guided me into a kneeling position over the chair.  He spit on my ass and used a thumb or finger to spread it.  I knew it was going to happen and I felt like I didn’t want it, but I felt my own penis beginning to fill with blood into an erection. I froze as I looked back at him and he took a condom out of his pocket and dropped his jeans.  He rolled the condom on his erect cock and I asked him, “Can we do this another time?” I felt panic and to this day I don’t understand why I didn’t fight back – I knew how to fight even and he didn’t. He said, “You liked this the other times. I know you’ll like it again” and he pushed me on my upper back forcing me to hunch over the chair.

I remember closing my eyes and biting the back of the chair as he forcefully entered my anus, grabbing my hips and pulling me back into him. He didn’t ease into me like he had done on previous occasions. I tried to relax and let him have his way with me, I figured at this point it was the only thing I could do. It felt different than other times we had fucked. It felt painful, it felt unnatural. I kept thinking to myself, “Please hurry. Please hurry.” He kept pushing into me, and he was grunting with each thrust. Once he said, “Fuck your ass is so tight! You’re a good fuck.” I shook my head as if that would stop him and he laughed a little and said something like, “Come on, I know you like it.” He began slapping one of my ass cheeks as he tried to pound away. I felt tears coming to my eyes. It hurt. Eventually, I could feel his penis begin to swell as be pushed into me a final time and he was moaning. I knew he was having an orgasm.

When he finished, he pulled out and sat back on his couch.  I climbed down from my perch and sat on his chair.  I began to pick up my pants and stood up to put them on. MY ass was on fire and it hurt like hell. I could feel my face contort into some sort of grimace as I put my pants on. He sat there looking at me and asked why I was leaving.  I lied and told him I had things to do and needed to get back home. I left.

For the longest time, I never understood that this was a classical date-rape situation. In fact, I held onto it for years and never told anyone for many reasons. For example, I wasn’t even comfortable with my own sexuality, let alone that I could be raped. I went so far as to write about it in my last blog as if it were an experience that led me to believe I was bisexual. Truthfully, I had many people express to me that I was sexually assaulted. I felt like my own inaction to fight back, somehow meant I condoned and consented to this activity. I had even hooked up with David after this situation.

Am I ever going to report it? No. Why didn’t I tell anyone about it then? Because guys don’t get raped, right? Will I ever do anything about being sexually abused as a child? I have – I got therapy and I discuss it here with the hope that others can feel strong. I questioned my own inability to react. I don’t believe it destroyed my life, however, in spite of the fact that it played a major part in not being able to accept my own sexuality. It played a major part in me being confused for so long.

It is what it is. And I’m only mentioning it, because it is an experience I remember and it is quite relevant to my S.A.R.D. I feel like I’m better now. I feel like it doesn’t impact me negatively now. I feel like I am a survivor, so-to-speak.

7 thoughts on “S.A.R.D. #12 – Sexually Assaulted (NSFW 21+)

  1. Guys do get taken by other guys and against their will; why do you think a lot of guys are so afraid of winding up in jail or prison? It’s because the horror stories are more true than a way to scare guys out of doing something stupid and going to jail.

    It’s not that shit like this doesn’t happen; the thing we never want to admit is that shit like this has always happened and will continue to happen. It’s not that some guys wind up getting victimized – it’s how they handle it going forward and some guys just do not and cannot handle it and sometimes it’s because they think that it shouldn’t happen and now they’re feeling some kind of way because it’s one thing to know that some guy got victimized by another guy… something really different when a guy has become the victim.

    Everyone likes to say, “No means no!” and like everyone is going to abide by this – and, obviously, they don’t. I was drugged and raped once by a guy, not only because he was some kind of predator but also because – and this hurts the most – I wasn’t smart enough at the time to recognize things. I got my revenge on him when the drugs got out of my system and I did my level best to kill him by beating him unmercifully, tying him up as he had me tied up, and left him to die. But he didn’t die; I saw him many years later and I had a great sense of gratification to watch him remember me… then piss himself before he limped away (and with a limp I’d given him).

    Now, does shit like this affect men in some kind of way going forward? Indeed it does and in some rather interesting ways and, yes, some of those ways are not good at all; hence my statement that it’s not that something like this happened to a guy – it’s what they do/how they handle it going forward. And, yes, believe it or not, this can happen to a guy and can make him love the dick and as strange as that might sound.

    Taking a guy by force is not cool at all and I do not ever condone such behavior but I’m the bi guy who’ll tell you that it happens and how some guys respond to having been a victim or, at the very least, an unwilling participant. Some of us think that even when something like this happened when we were young, there should have been something we should have done to thwart or prevent it – and that’s retrospective thinking or if you knew then what you know now, maybe the outcome would have been different… which doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t different and that if you could have done something – like scream bloody murder – sadly, that’s not what you (not specifically you, AS) did.

    I’ve told guys who have been victimized that they can either keep acting like victims by letting the past continue to fuck with them or they can face the reality of such things, not only the actions of the person who victimized them but what actions they took – or didn’t take – after the fact… then exert every amount of willpower available to them to not let this continue to fuck with them.

    It’s something that no one should ever have to experience but there are so many things in life that we believe should never happen and, yet, they do. Now it’s all about how you deal with it going forward and whether or not the way you deal with it will wind up destroying you more than the act that occurred.

    Directly to you, AS, that guy telling you that you’re his bitch and he’ll do you any time he feels like it was, in fact, a result of you letting/wanting him to do you in the first place… but you cannot be responsible for how someone else is gonna behave even in this situation. See, once you given permission, some guys assume that they ALWAYS have permission and it doesn’t matter to them if you want to do the nasty with them or not.

    If you knew then what you know now, the minute he tried to force himself on you, you would have hauled off and did your best to kick his ass and maybe you can see how fruitless such a retrospective look really is: What you should have done you didn’t do and, yep, maybe you regretted not doing anything when you had the chance… and that’s that. Now the question is should you or any other guy keep being all bent out of shape about it – and while the answer should be, “No!” well, I just said that there’s a big difference in what should be and the harsh reality of things, isn’t it?

    And if these things no longer negatively affect you, congratulations: You’ve been able to conquer something that most men never can. Bravo… and another bravo for having the courage to share this with us.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. If I’m learning anything from sobriety it is that I have no control over people, places or things…I’m accepting this more and more. Truthfully, I have moved past these things and I’m only noting it because they are memories brought on by other people’s experiences with the same kind of thing.

      Thanks again, my friend, for tour insight.

      Liked by 1 person

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