I often feel as if I’m overreacting, that it wasn’t all that bad. Maybe I have even imagined or misremembered it, as I was drunk at the time; but the months leading up to it and my friend’s (drunken) memories should be enough as proof, seeing that the police takes it seriously enough. Anyway, I’ll start from the beginning.
I was sixteen and had just broken up with my ex, whom I still loved a lot. I sought distraction in sex: first with my ex (which turned out to be a bad idea), later with friends. Apparently my best friend (I’ll refer to him as B. for the rest of the story) had told one of his friends (whom I’ll call K.) I was ‘easy’ (which was kind of true at the time) and as K. was desperately looking for some easy sex, he managed to get my number from B. He then started texting me, trying to make me promise I’d sleep with him when I’d meet him. I met hem a short time after, at B.’s birthday party (which was just the 3 of us). He managed to convince me to sleep with him even though I felt a bit uncomfortable at it (as I had just met him the day before), and that’s where the misery started.
He turned out to be extremely jealous and controlling. All I wanted from him was sex (and I had been clear about this from the beginning), nothing long term. Yet he took it upon himself to ‘teach me how not to cheat as a practice for a next relationship’ (my previous relationship had come to an end because I made the stupid mistake of cheating on him, which was definitely something I will NEVER do again), so I sort of had to pretend he was my boyfriend and treat him as one. Only, he thought that also meant I could not meet my friends without asking him for permission, I was in no situation allowed to touch anyone other than him, and so on. Every time I’d say something along the lines of ‘I want to stop sleeping with you’ he’d made me feel guilty, saying I was all he had. I tried to get out by ‘cheating’ with B., but unfortunately it didn’t work, it just made things worse. He also often pushed me into things I didn’t really want to do; he just suggested them and didn’t wait for my ‘yes’. I never wanted to be peed on, and I wanted to choose when we did anal instead of him just turning me over…
Fast forward a couple of months, I really want to get rid of him but B. or K., I don’t know for sure which one, had convinced me to give K. one more chance, so I invite him over for my birthday party (which was just the 3 of us, just like with B.’s party). When we go to my room to sleep, K. starts touching me. I protest a bit, as I don’t want to make things awkward for B., but K. continues. B. flees downstairs, I want to go after him to apologise but K. won’t let me. “Just let me cum, I’ll be quick”, he says. I don’t want to but he’s on top of me already and a lot stronger than me, so I don’t dare to fight. Half an hour later, when he’s finally finished, I manage to go downstairs. B. doesn’t want to come back to my room, he’d rather sleep on the floor, so I go grab a blanket and join him. After all, it was sort of my fault he had to sleep on the floor. K. gets annoyed because it seems he’ll be the only one sleeping upstairs and he wanted to fuck me some more, and he gets in a really bad mood. B. is afraid K. will hurt himself if we leave him alone, so we all go back upstairs. K. may have fucked me again but I don’t really remember as I was falling asleep.
The next day, something similar happens. During the day, there’s a bit too much drinking and K. is in a bad mood and I have fallen in love with B. by then so I give slightly more attention to B., who seems to enjoy my company, than to K. (who was just sitting there angrily and didn’t speak to anyone). Fast forward a day of K. nagging and me and B. having quite a good time, and in the evening, we go to my room to play a game. We were going to play ‘who is it’, and I wanted to team with B., as he had been far more pleasant company during the entire weekend (and before). But K. was having none of that. He ran off, saying he’d take the train home (good luck with that in a really small town without a train station :p). B. followed him and returned to tell me K. was fine, he was just falling asleep in the garden in the company of some leftover beer. I was quite shocked from how K. had been acting and I think I was crying, so B. came closer to me to console me and we ended up cuddling and making out. We heard K. returning upstairs, so we quickly stopped kissing (he didn’t see or hear anything), yet K. noticed I was in the same bed as B. He demanded I got out of the bed and closer to him. I wasn’t wearing a lot of clothes, as I was planning on going to sleep before B. started kissing me, so I tried to cover myself with a blanket (against the cold, and I didn’t want to turn him on when he was so angry), which he quickly took and threw away. I was sitting there, almost naked, while he was yelling at me, saying how everyone had let him down, starting with his parents and his brother, then his exes and eventually me. After a while (I didn’t hear most of what he said as I was too scared) he seemed calm and asked me to sleep in his bed instead of in B.’s. I was still scared as fuck so I obeyed. He then started crying, said he was glad I cheated on him, that I had given him an excuse to finally kill himself, and that he would do it the day after. He asked me to have sex one last time. I never said yes. I was crying all the time, because it hurt really badly and because I didn’t want him to kill himself. I kept telling myself he just hadn’t realised, but when he asked why I cried and I told him and he grinned and continued, even harder, I knew my pain turned him on. I’m not sure whether I’ve ever literally asked him to stop; the alcohol is blurring those details. I also don’t remember whether I was just thinking about trying to smother myself with a pillow hoping to make him stop and also as a distraction or whether I actually did it. I guess he wouldn’t have let me until after he came anyway.
Anyhow, when they left the day after I was sure I never wanted to see K. again, and fortunately, I kept to this. He did try to get me back by getting incredibly romantic, lamenting that it wasn’t fair I never gave him a chance as a boyfriend, and that he would kill himself if I didn’t became his girlfriend. He said I just had to give him a chance, and then he wouldn’t kill himself, and I still didn’t want to be responsible for his death so I gave it a try. After a week, I broke up with him and things got even worse. At first he was just really rude, which was fine, I didn’t want to stay friends with him anyway, but after a couple of days he’d found a way to make me do what he wanted. We had made some photos and movies of ourselves during sex, but since he was the dominant one, he was also mostly the one who was filming and he’d just filmed me. He used those to blackmail me, saying that he’d put those on the internet and show them to my mum if I didn’t do what he told me. I agreed. I had to call him ‘master’ and act as a slave; I was not allowed to disagree with him, nor to disobey his rules (such as ‘no swimming because then other people can see you in nothing but a bikini’); at a certain point he told me I’d have to buy my freedom (but yeah, I couldn’t even afford the price he wanted for it) or he’d never let me go until I became too old to be a sex slave. I had to send him naked pictures of myself with the date written on me every day; and most days there was an extra order for pictures/movies (the worst being having to put food inside me, then eat it – I had to redo it 3 times because I ‘didn’t look like you enjoyed it enough for your master’. I still can’t see a Balisto –a kind of chocolate-covered cookie- without getting sick, nor can I eat molten chocolate). This continued for a couple of weeks, until I finally went to the local police station. The first officer almost laughed at me. He asked what I was wearing, why I’d been drinking so much, etc. too. He didn’t believe me I think. So I went back the next day, told the entire story again and luckily, this one was friendly. I blocked K. everywhere so he still doesn’t have any means to contact me as he doesn’t know where I live now.
It’s been more than 2 years now, and I’m glad to say that although I still have some problems (like being scared to death in the dark, often wishing I could still be a child because then I wouldn’t have to have sex – in a way I’d like to be able to identify as a child, however stupid that may sound. I just want to go back and have a safe, loved childhood, although I’ve never really had that – and finding sex gross a lot of the time; and some paranoia because he promised he’d kill me if I ever went to the police – which I did, so, yeah), I’m healing, and thanks to my wonderful boyfriend and friends, I’m sure I’ll get there. To everyone who reads this: don’t give up. I know sometimes it is tempting to hurt yourself, try to commit suicide, and so on, just to get out, but please, don’t. Your family needs you, your friends need you, and maybe you have a partner who needs you. I know you may not realize it, but you are not alone; nor in your pain, nor in the good things and eventually, the good things will have grown stronger than the pain. Please just don’t ever give up. You are strong. You are beautiful. You can do this. All of you.
PS: I just recently heard the police are still working on it, there are tons and tons of other people who have come forward about him, and they searched his house and everything. I have never been so hopeful about getting justice.
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