Touchy Topic

Warning!  This is another dark post.  It covers the rape I went through.

There was a super hot guy in the class ahead of me in high school.  We had one class together in the year of this incident.  I would probably never talked to him if it wasn't for my current sexual interest.  They were friends.  And lucky for me, it was Friday and we were all going to a party together that night.

I walked into the house.  I had never been there before.  It was some kid's house that I went to school with.  It was dark, it reeked of weed.  And as I looked around, I noticed I was the only girl there.  They were all sitting around, waiting for the keg to show up.  There were a few beers in the fridge.  I was given these to drink.  After I had enough to drink to start buzzing pretty well, I was talked upstairs by the hot boy in the class ahead of me.  As I walked up the stairs, hand-in-hand with the boy, I heard the guys downstairs yell "Tag team!"  And they all started counting off.

I showed no fear, being the big tough girl that I was.  He told me I owed him a blow job.  I gagged on his huge cock, until I couldn't take anymore, which is when he layed me down and gave it to me until I bled.  I tried so hard to crawl away.  I was scrambling backwords, and he just kept coming.  I remember the look of discust in the reflection of the mirror as he cleaned the blood off his dick.  I layed on the floor, bleeding, cramping, crying.

He went downstairs as number two came in to violate me.  I layed there, crying, numb, as he had his way with me.  I didn't fight.  I was completely broken after the first one left me up there to suffer.  To bleed.

He went down, number three came up.  He saw my tattered body.  He saw the blood on the floor and all over in the bathroom.  He sat in the chair, with my head in his lap, as I bawled.  He petted me, he comforted me.  He saved me from the line behind him.  I felt so indebted.  Little did I know that he already had a girlfriend when he tried to get me to fuck him later in the week.  Maybe he thought I owed him?  See, saviors are shit too!  His girlfriend was a fucking fruit.  She had people calling me at all hours, threatening me.  I didn't even do anything.

All the boys played it off like it was the best fucking night they ever had, and when I started telling people what really happened, they changed their story to I was a whore.  So when they started up about me being a whore, I started to pretend I had liked it.  And so there is how I got my reputation.

I think the rape screwed up my morals.  I enjoyed sex before the rape.  I enjoyed sex after the rape.  But sex had nothing to do with love anymore.  Not at all. 

It was animal instint.  It was quick gratification.  It was needed.  From that rape, I was addicted to sex.

3:24 AM - Dec. 29, 2005 - post comment

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As per the end of your 'super long' post there: Blogs are -wonderfully- therapeutic, for those who are so inclined. Go backwards through mine to the very start. You'll see.

And now, well. Now things are better.

I'm glad someone with some depth managed to get the name "Nameless" on BlogExplosion, or I'd have been disappointed.

Jax - 6:02 AM - Dec. 29, 2005

Hiding

Sex became a way to hide then...
Really, it became a covering.
A covering for humilation; not just pain.
A covering for violation; not just bleeding.
To hide what you really felt inside.
There is nothing wrong with pain.
There is nothing wrong with bleeding.
But there is something wrong with humilation,
and, likewise, there is something inherently wrong
with asking your body to hide it.
Your body was not made as a shield,
it was made to feel.
Feelings have to come out...
whether they are literally "cut" out of your body, or not...
whether you see the bleeding or not...
they HAVE TO COME OUT...
They demand to be set free...
or like demons, they will constantly possess you!
Let them come out! Damn it!
Deal with the humiliation.
You have to become angry for once...
become passionate...
not simply depressed.
If you can't let yourself feel one thing,
because you are ashamed of it...
or were hurt by it...
then you end up denying ALL of your feelings.
That's why sex doesn't bring you more feeling.
Because it has been misused, damaged...
and used for the wrong purposes
of HIDING your feelings instead.
And that's why you run to it often,
as an addict.
You have to accept all of your feelings, hon.
All of them...
and realize that you are right in feeling this way about what happened...
and that these feelings have been completely justifiable
the entire time you have been living with them.
Don't be afraid of them anymore.
And then, sex will not be about covering feelings,
but discovering feelings.
And desire will not be wasted anymore...
but used for finding something greater
than you have ever known before.

Sorry, I just had to say this.
With much love...

Steve - 9:43 AM - Dec. 29, 2005

Untitled Comment

S.A.,
I just wanted to say...
I am sorry...
I kind of when nuts there.
A little intense.
If I had your email,
I would have emailed those comments to you.

Hopefully, you don't think I am some dumb ass.
that thinks he "knows it all."
Because I don't.
And I know that I don't.
I don't know much, period.
But, what I have learned
I am willing to share,
because that is what a friend does.
Okay? :+)

Steve - 12:42 PM - Dec. 29, 2005

Thanks Steve

I don't think you're a dumb ass. I am sorry if you got yourself all worked up. Hehe.

anonymous - 7:04 PM - Dec. 31, 2005