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How I was Raped by a Woman — A Man Tells His Story

How I was Raped by a Woman — A Man Tells His Story
November 10, 2013 STER
This isn’t a typical rape story as you are used to. This is rare but it doesn’t remove the fact that it does exist. A man has narrated how he was a rape victim. Read more after the cut

I’m not your usual victim, nor was my attacker your usual rapist. I’m one of the 9% of people who get raped who are male. And one of the 1% who was raped by a woman. I was in my early 20s, and talking online to a woman on the internet. We kind of hit it off. I decided to do cross country vacation, and she suggested I stop by, spend a few days to a week at her school, that I could ‘crash’ in her apartment before resuming my trip. That sounded ok, so when the time came, I packed up and started my road trip. In time, I was near her town, so I drove on in, gave her a phone call to get directions on just where in town her apartment was, and drove on over. 
 She met me at the door, we hugged, and I gave her a little gift I’d brought along as a thank you for the invitation. We went inside, I put my bag down, she broke out some wine, and we talked for a while. Her roommate arrived home at that point. A very large woman, I would have guessed her at more than twice my weight, since she was easily more than twice my size in volume. She grabbed a glass of wine too, and joined the conversation. She was pretty flirty, more so than I would have expected with a stranger, but I shrugged it off. I thanked my online friend again for letting me stop over. 

I went out to explore the town for the rest of the afternoon, only coming back after grabbing a bite at a local diner. My friend was headed out. She hadn’t known exactly when I was arriving, and already had accepted a party invite. I was cool with that, I’d been driving quite a while that day and was already pretty tired when I got there, and my second wind was wearing off, so I decided to crash on the futon she’d indicated was for me. I think I got a couple of hours of sleep, before I was woken up muzzy headed, with hands down my sweat pants, one of which had a fairly firm grip on a rather tender part. It was already somewhat dark out, and the curtains were pulled, so at first I didn’t know who it was, but I assumed that my online friend was more friendly than I expected. 

 That assumption didn’t last long, as the grip became painfully tight, and I was suddenly having a hard time breathing with a lot of naked weight on top of me. I was a bit naive, s-xually, back then, and didn’t know about ‘cock rings’ or using elastic bands to restrict the blood flow to the penis to cause and maintain an erection, but I learned that night that even a sufficiently tight grip can cause enough blood to pool and provide an erection even when you really weren’t ‘in the mood’ I’m not going to get any more graphic, but let’s just say I was used like an inflatable male doll by a woman I barely knew who was much larger than I was, and stronger. I was pretty much in shock, and not really thinking straight, but I remember thinking at the time that this just didn’t happen to guys. I don’t know how long it lasted, as I was just trying really to breathe and not to think about what was going on, but after some time, she made a long moan, then got off me and left the room for her own room. 

 Parts of me were in pain, and I seriously considered bolting out the door right then, but I was a long way from home, didn’t know where any hotels were, hadn’t really planned well enough to take along extra cash in case I needed one, and told myself she surely wouldn’t be back that night. So I switched into jeans and curled up, trying to get to sleep and not think about what had happened. I heard my online friend come back a couple hours later, trying to be quiet so as not to ‘wake’ me, and just pretended to be asleep. The next morning, I packed up the little I had brought in quickly, and as soon as my friend woke up, I made up some bogus lie about having miscalculated the dates, and told her I had to leave, and couldn’t stay for the week. I was on the road again in minutes, and I never saw either one again, nor spoke with my ‘friend’ online again. I know it wasn’t her fault, but it took me quite some time to start to think logically about the whole thing, and not simply to try and pretend it never happened. 

 Yes, I was traumatized, and it took me more than a few years to fully put it ‘behind me’. But it’s good that I can, because where a woman who is r*ped by a man can always get sympathy, both from men and women, I generally get disbelief and belittling comments. I’m a man, and I was r*ped by a woman. So I just don’t matter.

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