6. He choked me out and tied my wrists to his couch.

“I like to think I had a healthy libido and sex life, but I got depressed after being dumped by the girl I swore was the love of my life. I sought comfort with a friend and close coworker of mine, and he decided to invite me over for a night. It turned sexual after a number of drinks, and he started moving in on me. When I started showing signs of apprehension, he choked me out and tied my wrists to his couch. When he was done, I was told to go wash the blood off and get cleaned up. I left shortly after and rarely said a word.

Now, I rarely make moves on girls because I keep feeling like I’m doing to them what Cody did to me. I know it’s completely different, we’re both consenting, but the minute anything starts to happen, I go soft and back away, which gets interpreted as weakness and the girl turning me off.

My libido has not changed, but my confidence is greatly diminished and I keep asking if it’s what the girl wants, which upsets them and still pushes me away.”
—The_WacoKid

7. Woke up, face up, on bed, naked. Dude trying to stuff his dick up my ass. Resisted. Other dude—there were two of them—tried stuffing his dick down my throat.

“House party on a lake.

100+ guests.

Two gin and tonics.

Was talking to friends. Had to take a piss. Left drink on kitchen counter. Friends went off to mingle.

Came back, got drink.

Later:

Woke up, face up, on bed, naked. Dude trying to stuff his dick up my ass. Resisted. Other dude—there were two of them—tried stuffing his dick down my throat. Tried to fight them off. Puked on the guy in my face.

Woke up in another room of the house, in a bed, at dawn. Found most of my clothes and got the hell outta there.

Two days later, what had happened hit me like a bus. Got a counselor and got a rape kit through the YWCA. Was bruised all over.

Decided to call the cops. Bad decision. VERY bad decision. Made me sit in the back of the cop car, behind the cage, to tell him what happened. No fucks given on his part. Gave me a legal pad to write everything down. Again.

Weeks pass. No word. Report gets passed around through 3 detectives. Last on says he found no witnesses. Nothing to take to prosecutor. Suspects questioned. Claimed it was consensual sex. One revealed his status as HIV-positive. Detective drops investigation, destroys file. Suspects walk.

Months pass. I remain uninfected. Friends who hosted party spread word that I’m an alcoholic slut.

I grow to hate cops.

I haven’t dated since. Have been in therapy.

I was 43 at the time.”
—WhitePineBurning