I’ve never really talked about it online before so I’m sorry if I get vague at some points, it’s just hard to speak about it. I feel so alone right now and I just want at least one person to hear me. I won’t be surprised if nobody reads this though. It will probably be long. I’ll probably also delete it because I’ll regret posting it later.

I come from a wealthy family. I’m grateful for that because even though I went through a lot, at least I never had to worry about monetary things. I had everything I needed. Except for love. My mom left when I was 6 years old, and my dad took his anger out on me and my younger sister. He beat us and yelled at us for years. When I turned 11 he stopped hitting us for the most part, he even stopped yelling too. But he just became neglectful instead. I wanted someone to love me. My dad had a friend with a son(C) the same age as me but I didn’t see him often, and I wasn’t close with my sister.

I don’t want to make this too much of a ramble about my tragic backstory so I’ll just cut to the chase, I ended up being friends with a guy(M) 2 years older than me. We started dating when I was 13 and he was 15. I would spend all day with him and my dad didn’t question where I was as long as I showed up at the end of the day. He knew I was with M, just not where we were or what we did. M was in the process of love bombing me. I finally had all of the love and attention I wanted.

A couple of months after we started dating he asked me for oral sex. I wasn’t interested in those things at the time yet so I said no, but he stopped being nice to me and kept pressuring me until a couple weeks later I ended up saying yes. I wanted his love back. He said if I didn’t like it we would stop. But we didn’t. And he made me do it almost every day after that. I felt so depressed after that started happening that I stopped eating and wouldn’t go to school. M also started being abusive to me, mostly verbally but sometimes he would hit me. I think he was a sadist or something. He pressured me into smoking cigarettes and by the time I turned 14 I was a smoker. My dad didn’t care about what I was doing or what was going on with me, and at this point I was now homeschooled. He noticed that I smelled like cigarettes at some point and got angry about it but didn’t do anything to help me.

The October before I turned 15, I went out with M. This time he wanted me to stay out all night with him at a park near my house and I thought it could be fun so I agreed. He brought alcohol. It was the first time I tried it and it was so gross but I drank it anyways. At some point while I was with him I suddenly started feeling very dizzy and weak. My limbs felt like lead and I could barely move. Seconds felt like eternity. I felt like I had to breathe and blink manually. He raped me. It hurt so much and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. When he was done I think he saw how much blood there was and he freaked out that I might die. He called my dad(I think my dad was wondering where I was so he wasn’t asleep yet) from my phone to tell him that I was seriously hurt and where I was, then ran away and left me there. He had the courtesy of turning on my phone’s flashlight before leaving so that it would be easier to find me.

I always say that my dad was terrible and didn’t care about me but when I think about the way he reacted it’s impossible for me to hate him still. He wasn’t the best dad but he still loved me. I don’t know how long it took him to find me and I honestly don’t remember much of this part other than how sleepy I was. I passed out. I woke up the next day at the hospital. I had had emergency surgery for a perforation. I almost died. I hate the hospital still. All I could think about was what happened to me. My entire body felt like it wasn’t my own anymore. He used me. Like I was nothing. My dad was furious about the whole situation and wanted M to do time, but the police said that there wasn’t enough evidence because I didn’t actually say no. Even though I didn’t say no because I couldn’t speak. It also was worse because I went to the park with him by my own choice and drank alcohol. The time after I came back home was somehow the loneliest I ever felt and the most loved I ever was by my dad.

He finally cared about me. He made sure I ate. He got me a therapist and made sure he knew where I was at all times. I guess that wasn’t too hard though because I mostly stayed home. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I was always in my room. All I would do is cry all day and remember. I had nightmares every single night, multiple times a day. The most embarrassing part is that sometimes I would wet myself. I hated everyone and myself too. I thought it was everyone’s fault that nobody did anything to stop it. Most of all I felt like it was my fault. I should have known better. I was so ashamed but at the same time I felt like I deserved it and that it should happen to me again. I was also terribly afraid of men including my dad. He didn’t know what to do with me so he took me to a psychiatrist. I got diagnosed with ptsd and was prescribed medication but I refused to take it. He would yell at me to take it but it just made me feel worse.

My dad thought I might feel better if I was around my friends more but it didn’t really help, so he asked his friend to bring back my childhood friend C. C started coming to visit me regularly even though I was scared of him. But he never did anything to me and he was really nice despite my fears. Because of what happened I was also simultaneously sex repulsed and hyper-sexual. I knew he was bisexual and I hoped that maybe he would take advantage of me because it’s what I deserved. I made moves on him but he refused. He said he liked me but that he was scared to hurt me. When he said he liked me, I felt wanted and happy for the first time after what happened. I’m not even sure if I truly liked him at first but we agreed to date. In retrospect I know that it made me happy that he liked me because I had developed the belief that my only use was as a partner to be used. It made me feel I had purpose.

After that I barely made progress in therapy but C tolerated me and my breakdowns over and over again. Even though I don’t know if I liked him at first, I started to like him because of his kindness. He was also funny and good looking. My dad actually really didn’t like that I was dating him. He didn’t trust him after M and didn’t let me go out with him without supervision and a curfew. I wish he cared about me like that before. But at least he cared about me after.

Me and C had only dated for about two years but I wanted to marry him and he did too. My dad thought it was too soon but he wanted me to be happy so he let me get married and paid for my wedding. I got married in 2018, less than a month after I turned 18. C is 6 months older than me, so he was also 18. Looking back on it as a 23 year old I realize how stupid I was and how dangerous it could have turned out to be. But I got lucky and I’m happy in my marriage. C has never hurt me and despite the unhealthy start of our relationship, as well as some major codependency, we have grown a lot and made a lot of progress on both getting better. I have ptsd and he has ocd. We support each other and I wouldn’t have made it without him. A little ray of sunshine in my sob story.

A few months after we married I got jumped and gang raped outside. By M and some other men I didn’t know. I was suspicious that he had been stalking me but stupidly didn’t think he would actually do anything. I don’t want to talk about this instance much. I wasn’t really injured physically this time but it still broke my mind again and I’m still sometimes scared of walking on the street. I didn’t want to press charges so C wanted us to move to a different city, which we did. I haven’t seen or heard about M since then. I only started feeling better about two years ago.

I don’t think the impacts of my traumas will ever go away though. I’m scared I’ll never get better. I feel like I’ve made no progress even though when I look back on how I was and how I am now, there’s a difference. I’m medicated and don’t have nightmares as often. When I have them I’m mostly able to regulate myself instead of breaking down. I’m mildly better at handling my triggers. But I still feel broken and sometimes I lose all my progress. I only stopped smoking this year. Despite having all the support I could want. I have a loving husband and a therapist and medication. I have money. People would give everything to have what I have and yet it’s still not enough for me to get better. How much longer do I have to suffer to feel like a normal person? When will I be free from my fear and shame? Will I ever be? Recovery feels impossible. I’ve been in therapy for almost a decade and have made such little progress. I don’t want to wait until I’m 90 to live normally. It isn’t fair that I have to pay for what others did to me. I just wanted love.

I’ve made this post in faith that other people’s stories and experiences may help my own or even theirs.

When I was 8 I was raped by my bully older brother, he had a hold on me and made me believe he would kill me for ever mentioning that it happened. 8 years later when I was 16 it finally come out as I thought it would help me however due to the instilled fear of him I asked for it to stay a secret that they knew.

Over the years he’s become nothing but a menace to my family and a cancer they feel they can’t get rid of. I’ve suffered nightmares, hallucinations etc while sleeping because of him.

Recently he was kicked out of his girlfriend’s house and has been sleeping on my mums sofa. I have come to terms with the fact I’m not over it and now I’m older I have a burning need to harm him and do everything I’m sure your all familiar with, I’m debating going back to therapy but I’m worried this feeling will not leave me until I either confront him or in a sense get my own back on him.

If anyone else can relate or was able to pass this stage of their grief I’d love to hear about it.

When I was a child I went to a church. My family was in that church for years when I was very young. Weekly on Sundays would be a spaghetti dinner event in a nearby hall. Usually there was a bingo game, and I would help pass out bingo cards. They'd have all of the kids doing different tasks like passing out plates for dinner. I remember another one of the jobs I had was passing out brownies from one of the rooms as a dessert for the attendees. Everyone was nice and sweet.

On multiple occasions, a man, one of the church ministers and volunteers, would have me sit on his lap while I passed out bingo cards to people at the event. He was a very kind and soft-spoken person, trying to make everything fun for me. But the intentions behind his actions were disgusting; plainly stated, it was pedophilic. I sat in his lap almost every Sunday and passed out the bingo cards like I said before. He would "tickle me" by reaching his hand under my shirt and then into my waistband. After weeks, months, maybe years of this. I don't remember, my father and the youth leader at the time came up and separated me from him, telling me not to go near him and that I wasn't allowed to pass out bingo cards because it would make the attendees uncomfortable getting them from someone so young.

On multiple occasions he would follow me into the bathroom and try to get into the stall with me, or stand very close to the stall waiting for me to get out of it. Luckily, most of the time from what I can remember, there would be someone else following us in shortly after. I'd do my business and walk out. Another time I remember being at the table passing out plates of food, and he came up asking if I could ask my father if I could come to his house and play with his dog and the games he had. My father was wise enough to say no, and I can't thank him enough for it, because God knows what would have happened. To this day, now that I'm a grown adult, I still can't remember everything, which is probably for the best.

Eventually my family left the church; the reasons I will not be disclosing. I don't know if he was still there when we left, but I do know that he was reported in 2011 by a family whose son he had victimized at the church, and continued to serve in the the church until 2014, when he was arrested and pleaded guilty to molesting another boy at his condo. In his confession he said that boy wasn't his first, and the lawyers said the church had responded swiftly. He served about a year in prison, was put on probation in 2015, and was still on probation when he died. His obituary had nothing in it no one listed surviving him, no message to remember him by. Just the fact that he died. Good riddance.

I didn't understand what any of it was until I was an adult, after having a completely unrelated discussion with one of my siblings. I still don't remember most of it, and probably never will. It was categorized under basically "a nice memory of a nice man" who wasn't nice at all. I want to remember, so I can tell the whole story, but I can't.

I'm posting this anonymously because I don't want my name attached to it.. He was yet another child predator working for the church. They let him stay there years after he was reported. This is not a generalization of any men, or religious individuals. There are great people everywhere, it is the few who tarnish the name that ruin it for everyone.

I’ve survived sexual abuse multiple times in my relatively short life. While this specific instance wasn't the most physically severe, it remains the most emotionally heavy

. We are both 15 years old. She was a close friend who called me, asking me to come over because her parents were out of town and she was feeling depressed and lazy. Wanting to support her, I went over right away and offered to cook her breakfast and to accompany her.

While we were eating, she started talking about "ovulation" in what I now realise was a highly suggestive manner. However, I think because I am autistic, the sexual subtext went entirely over my head. I had only thought I was there to accompany my best friend.

After breakfast, we were in the living room watching Rick and Morty. Suddenly, she got up and headed upstairs to her bedroom. A moment later, she called out, asking me to come up and do her a favour.

When I walked into her room, she moved behind me. I heard the lock click, but before I could even process what was happening, she pushed me over and climbed on top of me. I was very startled, and my dumbass still thought she was just being silly and friendly, but a subtle fear was growing because, unfortunately, this isn't the first time. It didn't take long after that for me to realise I was once again being sexually assaulted. In the moment, I was stuck with shock and this feeling of dread. I realise I can't describe the details of it happening here, but she pretty much just used my body as a toy for her pleasure. I could have fought her off, but I didn't because Idk, and after a while I ended up complying.

(fyi this was like a few weeks ago). What's especially confusing to me is that she seems to have moved on completely, while I'm still carrying it around. I still see her regularly, and she acts as though she never did it.

I've gone back over my own reaction countless times, especially wondering why I didn't refuse when I know I was physically capable of doing so. I know intellectually that freezing is a possible response to something frightening and unexpected, but emotionally I still hate myself for it.

I think I'm posting this because Journaling doesn't quite satisfy, and I don't really want to keep pretending I'm unaffected. I think I just want other people to hear what happened to get it off my chest

I usually journal this stuff, but that didn't seem to help, and I figured here would be safe and the next best thing to talking to a real human.

also i apoligise for the messy grammar; German is my native language

I dont want to go into a bunch of detail bc i want to make sure hes respected, but i really need advice on what to do. Basically my boyfriend and I (F) are college aged, we go to separate schools and have something equivalent to an open relationship. We agreed we dont want to hear about when one of us is having sex with another person, i know its weird but its basically dont ask dont tell and it works for us. However, the other morning he called me and asked me to please not be upset about what he was going to tell me and went on to tell me he was raped by a girl. I dont want to include details but it was a pretty bad situation . He said he didn't know who else to talk to about it and just needed to tell somebody.

I guess I just want to know whats the best thing that I can do for him? I want to be supportive, but he's not the type of guy that would look for counseling or anything. I really want to be there for him but i'm not sure how. Does anyone have advice?

Don't want to paint to vivid picture of this. When I was 16 I came home after a night out with my friends, I wasn't too drunk but a little out of it as we were drinking in the park like the idiots we were. I decided to get my head down and go to sleep. Not for how long after but I felt ill (not sure how to describe it.) feeling something around my mouth. I moved to roll away and felt pressure on the side of my head. It was a older male friend of my mother who was staying with us was trying to get his cock in my mouth.

He told me something along the lines of "don't move", "don't bite" something like that. I don't know why I didn't fight back harder or bite but I didn't he pushed the side of my head down with one hand and gripped my chin with the other. once his cock was in my mouth he let go of my chin and move his hand to my shoulder. Don't know how long he was fucking my face. I remember him being gentle-ish (silly I know) until the end where he forced himself in as far as he could, staying there for a few moments. he felt my back and ass at this point. he didn't cum. after pulling out he mumbled something and just left.

I didn't tell anyone foolishly. I was young and didn't want people to know, I felt what I now know to be shame. Over the years it left the forefront of my thoughts. I was groggy when it happened and it just stopped feeling real to me in time. it's come back to me as my now girlfriend confessed she wanted to peg me, I was open to it and we have had a little fun. but during she asked me to suck it and I did but this past event came to mind. I oddly don't think I'm upset about it any more. the memory feels more story or it happened to someone else. (it's been over 15 years.)

Posted this on another subreddit. but thought this place might be good too.

I hate this story because it really shows how weak I am but I guess I’ll start with how this even happened. so one night my mom had something important I guess that she had to do and it was at her friends house. So she took me with her and when I got in there was another kid there playing on his PS4… I got on it with him and we were playing some spider-man game, and as I was playing it he humped me, so when he stopped I ignored it at first, but then he led me to his room saying there was a monster chasing us... so finally we got into his room and he locked the door behind us. Then he told me to get in the closet, it made me confused… then he as fast as he could pulled my pants off me and then tried to lick the inside of my… ass… it made me like dizzy or something so I just stopped fighting him back when he started like pinching me really hard and slapped me and stuff (i was severely weak at the time) and I guess he did more stuff to my ass but yeah after he did that I got home with my mom and when she questioned the way I walked I got mad at her and told her I was just fine… almost a year later he got caught trying to do that stuff to his brother and he did it to more people than just me apparently my mom told me

I went out to this bar with a group of my friends over the weekend and got very very drunk. My friends and I start dancing and out of nowhere this guy comes up to me and starts dancing with me and getting very handsy with me. I'm into it at first but he's laying it on a little thick so I back off for a bit. But the alcohol clouded my judgement so we ultimately ended up dancing some more and making out. Long story short, I end up going home with him. I really shouldn't have because he was very overly handsy and also quite rude to my friends but I had never been approached like that by a man before and was a little too distracted my the thrill of doing something exciting to see the situation for what it really was.

We get back to his place and we continue making out and he asks if he can top me. I tell him no because I had never done that before and I did not want my first time to be with him because he was a stranger. He also kept offering me more alcohol which I declined. We kept making out for a while and eventually I just...feel him inside of me. He didn't ask that time. He just did it. I was shocked and didn't really know what to do so I just kinda froze and let him do it for maybe a minute. Then I snapped out of it and pushed him off me and told him I did not want him to do that.

In the moment, I just ignored it and told myself to enjoy the rest of the experience and we kept making out and fooling around for hours after that...which is why I feel so guilty. I went home with him when he was being an asshole to my friends, I stayed after he kept wrestling and strong arming me during sex when I told him I didn't like that. I stayed after he penetrated me without asking. I stayed after finding out he had lied to me about his age (he told me he was 28 but he was actually 34). I ignored red flag after red flag after red flag and I'm really, really angry at myself for it.

I know that if I had been sober I would have known better. Probably never would have entertained his advances in the first place. But I was drunk and dumb and wanted to have an exciting night with a stranger like young people are supposed to do...so I ignored everything and put myself in danger. I hate that stupid man for what he did to me. I told him I didn't want him to penetrate me and he just took what he wanted anyway. But I hate myself just as much. Because I should've been smarter. I should've known better. I should've never let myself be in that situation in the first place.

I've only told one person in my life so far, and that is one of the friends I was out with that night. She's been very supportive, which I'm very very grateful for. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. It's good to know a place like this exists for male sexual assault survivors.

Sorry if this is not the right sub but its been eating me up the last few days.

So I made a few posts about the possibily of being raped while black out. I have gotten it down to a time frame and possible routes I took in that time and there is about 2-3 hours gone. The only physical sign I had was pain in my asshole when I clenched and a full feeling and I had even found a possible cause for this.

The possible rape was 7 months ago and I kinda downplayed it until about 2 months ago (in those 5 months I had almost 0 memories of that night) but during the last 2 months little by little stuff has been coming back. Some of wich I know are real and some of wich I know are fake. I have been trying to reconstruct the night for 2 months now trying to imagine scenarios and how things should have gone for it to be that way. But now I have the problem of not knowing if some of these memories are real or not. Like I have a reamy vivid memory of feeling the presence of a person behind me as I walk outside and slamming the door behind me shut I also have a faint memory of where this was (been looking on google maps for routes so maby I picked it up from there). I also have a memory wich I know 100% is real where I sobber up and someone kicks me out the entrance of an appartment because I was sleeping there and as I walked away the door behind me also fell shut. Is it possible my mind made up that other memory or that its real and if so is there a way to tell if a memory is fake. Idk something about that memory feels so real and its realy anoying because its the last point thats blocking me from accepting nothing happend.

Note: I most likly have OCD but idk man that memory feels so real and its so strange because it came up 7 months later.

I feel if you do not get help. You'll never grow and never get past things in life. I consider myself a fairly well adjusted person at this point In my life.

I think the biggest, the thing for me was to start in a new city and a new life And don't look back!

Now, I can tell you my story better than some people worse than others.

When I was a small child, my father beat the crap out of me. I cried and cried as he would beat the crap out of me. Eventually.

Time comes, he says, I'll really give you something to cry about. Hey shoves his fingers at my ass and I hurt so bad it stretches, I start bleeding. He goes there now. You have something to cry about. He did this many times

Until I stopped crying and took the abuse.

Then, I found out that I was circumcised at birth. I made the mistake of asking why. His answer was because we could. He then he says, we could make you into a girl if we want to. I start crying, he beats the crap out of me. Then he takes his knife and cuts my dick shaft skin part way and says, I can cut more off. So just shut up, aren't there a lot worse done to you.

Then in school, I start getting bullied, I fight back. My father has to go to school. Hey, how's the meeting with the counselor and as we're leaving outside of school, he starts beating the crap out of me and says, if I ever have to come in here again, I will kill you.

So then the abuse returns, then it just gets worse. And worse, and I can't fight back because i'm afraid of my father. So then the abuse just keeps getting worse And worse till one day they piss in the toilet. A bunch of guys in a gym locker room. About six of them force my head into the toilet, they just pissed in. Then i'm choking on the piss somebody pulls down my pants and it starts fucking me. And I can hardly even breathe from my head in the toilet. And I feel someone cum in my ass. This is repeated. I don't know how many more times I pretty much remember losing consciousness and waking up slumped over the toilet. What's blood running out of my ass? All over the floor. I clean myself up put on my clothes

Shaking and heading to class. There everyone is making fun of me. And whispering. They tell me if I ever tell someone I'll be killed. But yet they told everyone in class and what a pussy, I was.

Then, I come out as a gay man after high school.

I'm at this gay bar new to the gay world. And think, wow, I found a place on everything else. The abuse never stops there. It's one more time. Being naive, that I am. I go to the restroom. Leave my drink, come back and finish it. And all of a sudden, I feel like i've been drugged and a couple guys carrying me out, I couldn't really make them out, because i'm already drugged. And everything is blurry. I remember getting carried up some stairs to someone's apartment and I can't fight. I can barely move. I remember getting thrown on the bed. And there again, I was raped by about five people. They all had their ways with me. Fucked me came inside of me and then there again. I remember my ass being so sore in blood, running out of it. Am I there trying to get away? And they grab me, drag me down the stairs, throw me in a car, and I think i'm going to die. Instead, i'm left in the middle of nowhere in a parking lot on a cold winter night, not knowing where I am just lying there.

I learned a lot of lessons never leave a drink. I decided moving to california to be as much away from all this abuse. As I could. I make it a point in life never to let people abuse me again. Sometimes I can be cocky. Sometimes I can be grumpy, but my demeanors. Many times shaped by my past. Counseling helps a little for me. The biggest thing is I would never let anyone ever even close to fucking again

I won't even let them do a colonoscopy on me. And the doctor says, one I says, just because I have a one way valve and nothing's ever going in there. I think that in a life we all have choices to go on with our lives. Sea calp, where we can get it and not look back. I do not talk to anyone from my past, not even my family. My father died. I never shed a tear. I never went to the funeral. I do know my sister was raped by my father. And this is how life goes on.

For me, the best thing ever was was to start over 3000 Miles away, and not even talk to anyone or acknowledge the past. As far as people I know.

My friends today think I'm in a good mood most of the time and I think that I am because I do what I want

And what makes me happy. Maybe I collect too many things. Maybe I have too much of certain stuff, but maybe it's a consolation prize for all the abuse who knows. All I know is life is okay now? I have a house I have

A lot of cars and my hobby is an interest. Keep me busy and my mind occupied. So I don't dwell on any of the bad past. I have a choice to either get up every morning and look about things in a positive way. And be happy for my coffee. On the front porch in the morning and then do my daily life do my work Do my hobbies when I have time. Take up my motor home that is older than I am and drive my cars that are older than I am.

Sometimes this is as good as it gets and sometimes that's more than enough. The ability to know that I can change the next day and everything happens. And the next few minutes. Yeah, to leave the pas. Where it is in the past?

We all have bad stories, whether we choose to leave them behind, and cast them off, is our choice. I don't do drugs, I don't drink. I don't have real destructive behavior. I do choose to call people out for their bad behavior because I guess I have no tolerance for bad behavior but they're a lot worse things in life.

I was sexually abused for a very long time and now am extremely depressed and anxious. I don't have anyone irl that I can talk to . Can someone please talk to me ?

After raping me she framed me for child abuse, and is now suing me for child support since I could have no contact with my kids until I prove my innocence.

I have court tomorrow, finally the case to dismiss will be heard after years of waiting.

I'm so tired, I miss my kids so much, I love you both and I'm so proud of you.

I hesitate to share this because it’s something that reads like someone’s unrealistic kink fantasy, but it’s absolutely true, without exaggeration. It’s just such an unusual circumstance that I’m always afraid no one will believe me.

I was involved in the BDSM lifestyle for a time, and for six years of it had a dominant master who was a sadist who liked to experiment. He didn’t rape or molest me or violate my boundaries, and was - ironically - a really kind and caring man at heart. Everything he did he did with my consent and participation, out of our mutual curiosity. Among the things he did with me (and this is the part that some might have difficulty believing) was that through different physical and mental conditioning techniques succeeded in training my body to have a dry orgasm (no ejaculation) whenever he said a command word. It worked scarily well. He could make me do it instantly, repeatedly. Having your orgasm yanked out of you without notice is nowhere near as much fun as it sounds.

After we ended our relationship, the conditioning endured. Later, I was staying at a men’s campground, and one evening when I was alone with another man by a fire chatting about our pasts I casually mentioned this conditioning and he asked what the word was. Without thinking, I told him.

He used it. When I reacted, he used it again. I was shocked. I had just met him, knew nothing about him, and he had just forced two orgasms out of me.

He did it again. Again. Again. Again. Again. AgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgain. Maybe 20 times, one after the other, forcing one before the previous had ended. After a few, they become unpleasant. After several, they become agonizing. By 20, it’s a form of torture. He had me on my knees, shaking uncontrollably, in tears. I finally screamed at him to stop, and he seemed shocked, as though he hadn’t realized he was doing something to a person. He jumped up and ran off into the night, and I never saw him again.

I’m not an innocent, and I’ve let men do all sorts of things with my body, so the threshold for what I could call sexual assault or rape on me is pretty high. But this violated something in me deeply. To have my orgasm forced and played with like that by a stranger for his curiosity and amusement was a new level of helplessness.

He never laid a finger on me. He didn’t undress me. But I felt as though I’d been raped, because he reached inside me and toyed violently with the most intimate part of me without my consent. I don’t know whether it can be truly counted as rape, or even sexual assault, by any conventional standard, but it was frighteningly real, it hurt, and it happened.

And I still have the emotional scar.

i was 13 when i was SA by my senior in school (i was in male boarding school). i didn’t know what to do at that time and told my friends bout it but they just made fun of it. the senior keep doing it to me and idk talk about he loves me and things, and it confuses me so much idk if im feeling the same or i was forced idk i just idk…it brought me to where i am rn really hypersexual and confused about myself and sexuality and everything…its really hard

I was assaulted once and harassed two times, by two different women. Since then I feel scared and depressed and honestly I just wanted someone to talk to me.

I saw a woman post about her experience on Reddit and she got a lot of positive support and people were being really kind to her. So I thought maybe I can share mine too and someone might talk to me.

I didn't realize I posted it in a feminism subreddit. I genuinely didn't know that subreddit was only for women's issues. I wasn't trying to blame women or attack feminism or anything like that. I was just scared and wanted someone to talk to.

They removed my post and permanently banned me. I understand now that my post didn't fit their rules, but bro I honestly didn't know. It just hurt because I wasn't there to fight with anyone. I was already feeling depressed and I was just asking for someone to talk to me

i was drugged and assaulted last week

I dont know how to go back to normal. The semester is about to start. I dont fully remember what happened beyond the groping stuff before i passed out. It was extremely scary and disorienting. I feel so weak.

on november 21st 2025 at work a customer was sitting in the parking lot of my previous gas station job. i went out to go see what he was doing and he grabbed my hand and made me touch his penis. he threatened me to kick my ass if i didnt have sex with him. he was much bigger then i am. so i went inside and got him a condom and just let him do it to me.

De chico recuerdo que cuando me bañaba con mi papá solía tener erecciones, el siempre ponía una silla en el baño para sentarse y estar a mi altura, solia hacer chistes y bromas y siempre me hacía reír en el baño y yo recuerdo mucho ver su pene, en ocasiones me sentaba en su pierna totalmente desnudo y veía su pene totalmente erecto, yo le preguntaba y el me respondió con total sinceridad, me decía que era normal y que le pasaba a todos los hombres, después solimos acostarnos desnudos en la cama y el se recargaba contra mi, nunca lo vi con morbo o algo malo, estoy muy confundido

Hi, I am not sure if this is appropriate here. If not please let me know and I'll remove it...sorry for the novel there is important background that makes the situation way more complicated and the "consent" not black and white?

I am 25 M gay and I have been struggling with something that happened to me with someone I considered my best friend. I had started to finally accept who I am. I had met him on a site for finding gay dates but also friends.

This friend lived in the same area as me but on an island about an hour away. We became best friends, we talked all the time and we shared everything with each other. This friend was gay also but he was in a several year monogamous relationship. He guided me through coming out and helped me through a lot of issues that came up as a result of my coming out.

I would almost exclusively text / chat with him or talk on the phone but we would be able to hang out about every other month due to work schedule conflicts etc. I had introduced him to my few friends at the time and his boyfriend even came to my birthday party with all my friends and a couple other events.

Well another "right of passage" that he had wanted me to go through was to go to the gay bars / clubs and talk to some guys and hang out and try to have fun and dance and meet some friends. I should have mentioned this earlier but I am on the autism spectrum and this was incredibly uncomfortable for me but something I wanted to do independently of this friend but was happy he came along.

We decided on a Saturday night we were both free and put it on the calendar. Since he lived an hour away, we met up and he had planned to stay on my couch since we would be drinking and such. That evening he came over and we took an uber to the gayborhood. We stayed out until about 1am had a good time and I had even talked to 2 guys and exchanged numbers and even kissed one of them. Since this had really been my first experience with a guy at all I was excited but so nervous I might have over indulged.

When we got back to my place, I do not really remember a lot. However what I DO remember is waking up naked in my bed next to my friend and of course super hung over. This was kind of shocking but I also thought there was a chance I stripped myself or something, so I didn't think too much. However when my friend woke up he was freaking out. He said that he cheated on his boyfriend with me and that he was so sorry for what happened.

I asked him what had happened, I couldn't remember. He said we came back and I had tried to get him to sleep on the couch but he insisted on sleeping in the bed. Then he said that he started kissing me and that I had tried to tell him I didn't want to be a party to him cheating on his partner. He said he got us to get naked and make out but we had not "exchanged fluids" we just kissed. I did not know how to react but I downplayed it and said there was nothing to worry about it sounds like nothing happened. However when I found out it seemed like time stopped. He knew I had literally only kissed one dude earlier that night and I was a virgin.

He has since mentioned it a few times. He told me I was a good kisser and that I will make someone very happy. He said I had a huge member but I could not get hard. He said I had the "perfect" amount of chest hair and pubes. We had previously only ever seen each other fully clothed. Each time I remind him of our agreement and he apologizes and says he slipped up and won't mention it again. Sadly him saying these things have "given me butterflies" for a lack of a better term.

I am very confused. As I have mentioned I am autistic and even navigating normal friendships is overwhelming and confusing. I have kind of stepped back and he is pretty much the only friend I have more than just a casual acquaintance and the only person who truly knows me. I have cried just about every night since because we had been friends for nearly 2 years, I am sad that he cheated and that I participated in it even if the consent was questionable at best. My instinct is telling me to cut him off but I don't know if that is just an overreaction.

This next paragraph is graphic im sorry but I don't really know how else to explain, so trigger warning for the next few sentences. I have also recently had some revelations in my memory and I think I remember telling him to stop for ___(boyfriends name over and over) I don't want to hurt ____. I remember him performing oral on me and I remember him finishing in his own mouth. I also seem to remember him being hard and pushing himself between my legs and cheeks but not penetrating. I am not certain if these things actually happened, does blacking out work like this? Did he slip something in my drink? Everything I previously thought I knew is gone.

It is just messy because we had explicitly said we would never ever want to cheat in a relationship many times and, we would never date each other if both of us were single and he specifically has tried to connect me with single or non monogamous friends of his for me to have my "first experience" with a guy in a safe manner...that being said he would physically be my type, I think I do have a crush on him and I would want to have sex with him but only if it were ethical. I feel so sad for his boyfriend who is the sweetest person in the world and i can't even face him. I should have known to not do this or to make sure that we were separated even though he has never tried anything with me before and we had set explicit boundaries. We had just never been this drunk together before. I am certain I would not have instigated this situation and I am certain I did not participate willingly. The most fucked up thing is I still have fantasies about this and even my "memories" I remember give me butterflies and I get excited.

Do I hope it improves or do I block my best friend? Idk what to do :( I don't even know what happened but I am pretty sure it will never go back

TLDR my gay bestie at best took advantage of me in a vulnerable position and at worst drugged and raped, me gaslit me and has been manipulating me for 2 years and I'm too autistic to know about it. It would be way too painful for it to be the second one.

I was 14 he was in his 50s I was dumb and we had sex in his car he knew my age but I was the one that kind of started it