Rape Poll Time
Aug. 24th, 2012 12:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turnonmyheelsHeather was over last night. The discussion was heavy as it tends to be when it's just the two of us and we wound up discussing Rape Gate or whatever you call it. We shared our stories with each other, something we had never done before.
Second semester freshman year in college that would have been 1994 a bunch of us girls were hanging out in the dorms drinking, smoking, playing cards as you do and we wound up on the topic of sex, which often happens around women in my experience, or at least happens around me because I enjoy talking about sex.
ANYWAY
9 women in a dorm room all aged 18 - 19
8 of us had been sexually assaulted and/or raped
That ninth woman she was a virgin. She was also raped the next year -- date rape, a guy got her drunk and didn't take no for an answer. Only two of us had been beaten or held at gun/knife point. All of the rapes were by people we knew well and considered to be friend or lover. None at the time confessed to incest. None at that time reported their attack.
I forgot to make the poll anonymous and I apologize for that.
[Poll #1862219]
ETA:
My own stories behind the cut.
I was fourteen-year old virgin dating a seventeen-year old [also virgin]. We weren't allowed to leave my parent's house because of the age disparity. Our dates consisted of renting a movie from Action Video and watching it at the house. Our regular making out got heavier than normal one night, my pants and panties were around my ankles, his pants down around his thighs. One minute he was on top of me kissing me and I was *into* it. He asked if he could. I said yes.
When I felt him press against my vagina with the head of his penis, I freaked out. I started saying, "stop, stop, no, no." I was shaking my head, trying to knee him, pushing him up and away. He covered my mouth with his hand so my parents couldn't hear me yelling at him to stop and then he raped me.
I bled for a week. I continued to date him. Our physical contact never went beyond above the clothes petting after that. He played a 'joke' on me about a week later and told me he had tested positive for HIV. About two weeks after that I told him I was pregnant. I wasn't. I let him stew in that for another couple of weeks before telling him the truth.
He took someone else to the prom.
We broke up right around the time he graduated high school.
He contacted me on Facebook when I first got on there. He sent me several personal messages apologizing for what he had done to me. Explained that he was a youth minister and every year he would take the boys aside and tells them story of my rape [my words not his, his were 'what happened'] as a teachable moment.
When I was fifteen years old, I snuck out of the house late at night with my best friend Lacie, Scott a guy who was my cousin by marriage, and another guy. The two boys had some moonshine. I drank enough of it to get extremely drunk in a short amount of time. Lacie and Scott were in the front seat. The other guy and I were in the back. We drove to the nearest city and got some Krispy Kreme doughnuts. We were on the ride back and pulled onto the onramp of the highway. As we went around the curve, I was slung onto Harry. He grabbed me by the back of my neck, unzipped his pants and stuck his penis in my mouth.
BITE IT! BITE THAT FUCKER OFF
I'm sure everyone out there is screaming. Let me tell you something. I DID. I bit. I chewed on it between my back molars. I tried hitting him, but I was tiny and he was HUGE. He eventually came in my mouth, pushing so far back into my throat it triggered my gag reflex. I suppose he could tell I was going to puke because he shoved me away. I banged against the car door and did my best to roll down the window before I puked all over everything. I didn't succeed.
By Monday morning, every one in school knew that I had given him a blow job. And from that moment on, I was a whore, slut, tramp, etc.
The next sexual encounter I had, I was 16. I didn't want to have sex with Lance. But I didn't say no. You know why? Because in my experience, saying NO didn't stop them. It was easier to say yes. At least that way I could tell myself I wanted to have sex.
Comments are welcome in the poll.
Second semester freshman year in college that would have been 1994 a bunch of us girls were hanging out in the dorms drinking, smoking, playing cards as you do and we wound up on the topic of sex, which often happens around women in my experience, or at least happens around me because I enjoy talking about sex.
ANYWAY
9 women in a dorm room all aged 18 - 19
8 of us had been sexually assaulted and/or raped
That ninth woman she was a virgin. She was also raped the next year -- date rape, a guy got her drunk and didn't take no for an answer. Only two of us had been beaten or held at gun/knife point. All of the rapes were by people we knew well and considered to be friend or lover. None at the time confessed to incest. None at that time reported their attack.
I forgot to make the poll anonymous and I apologize for that.
[Poll #1862219]
ETA:
My own stories behind the cut.
I was fourteen-year old virgin dating a seventeen-year old [also virgin]. We weren't allowed to leave my parent's house because of the age disparity. Our dates consisted of renting a movie from Action Video and watching it at the house. Our regular making out got heavier than normal one night, my pants and panties were around my ankles, his pants down around his thighs. One minute he was on top of me kissing me and I was *into* it. He asked if he could. I said yes.
When I felt him press against my vagina with the head of his penis, I freaked out. I started saying, "stop, stop, no, no." I was shaking my head, trying to knee him, pushing him up and away. He covered my mouth with his hand so my parents couldn't hear me yelling at him to stop and then he raped me.
I bled for a week. I continued to date him. Our physical contact never went beyond above the clothes petting after that. He played a 'joke' on me about a week later and told me he had tested positive for HIV. About two weeks after that I told him I was pregnant. I wasn't. I let him stew in that for another couple of weeks before telling him the truth.
He took someone else to the prom.
We broke up right around the time he graduated high school.
He contacted me on Facebook when I first got on there. He sent me several personal messages apologizing for what he had done to me. Explained that he was a youth minister and every year he would take the boys aside and tells them story of my rape [my words not his, his were 'what happened'] as a teachable moment.
When I was fifteen years old, I snuck out of the house late at night with my best friend Lacie, Scott a guy who was my cousin by marriage, and another guy. The two boys had some moonshine. I drank enough of it to get extremely drunk in a short amount of time. Lacie and Scott were in the front seat. The other guy and I were in the back. We drove to the nearest city and got some Krispy Kreme doughnuts. We were on the ride back and pulled onto the onramp of the highway. As we went around the curve, I was slung onto Harry. He grabbed me by the back of my neck, unzipped his pants and stuck his penis in my mouth.
BITE IT! BITE THAT FUCKER OFF
I'm sure everyone out there is screaming. Let me tell you something. I DID. I bit. I chewed on it between my back molars. I tried hitting him, but I was tiny and he was HUGE. He eventually came in my mouth, pushing so far back into my throat it triggered my gag reflex. I suppose he could tell I was going to puke because he shoved me away. I banged against the car door and did my best to roll down the window before I puked all over everything. I didn't succeed.
By Monday morning, every one in school knew that I had given him a blow job. And from that moment on, I was a whore, slut, tramp, etc.
The next sexual encounter I had, I was 16. I didn't want to have sex with Lance. But I didn't say no. You know why? Because in my experience, saying NO didn't stop them. It was easier to say yes. At least that way I could tell myself I wanted to have sex.
Comments are welcome in the poll.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-08-26 04:43 am (UTC)He got his ass whipped all the way home.
My dad being my dad didn't think to pick me up or take his shirt off. Just held my hand as I walked, naked, and sobbing hysterically, through a gauntlet of neighbors. (It's not that he's heartless -- it's just that he's never known what to do around a crying/upset child.) The commotion woke my mother up (she had worked the night before) and she bawled my dad out for not picking me up or giving me his shirt or doing something other than what he did.
This being 1978, the neighbor kid was back over and playing with in a few days. Only, I was never allowed to be near him without an adult right there, go anywhere if he was tagging along, and my brother wasn't allowed to go to his house. Other than that, it was never talked about again.
The worst thing was, years later, when I was about 13, the kid across the street (his family moved in when I was 6) said that he wished he had seen that, because I must have "looked funny all naked like that." I was so incredibly hurt and angry that somebody would think that something so humiliating and terrifying was funny. I think I slapped him, or tried to slap him.
Needless to say, I've got mixed feelings about it all. It was handle, and honestly, I think that if it had been handled differently, it might have made it more traumatic.
On the other hand, I've been told by devohoneybee that I radiate a very strong sense of personal space. I think it has its roots in this incident. Instead of destroying or warping my notion of bodily autonomy, I went the other way.
Never. Again.
----
Also, thank you for sharing your story. And thank you to everybody else in the thread who has shared a story.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-26 02:01 pm (UTC)Thank you for sharing your story.