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Jan 04

Anonymous Story: Finally opening up about my past sexual abuse

I grew up in a family with three sisters and my mom, my dad left us when I was young, I was the only male in the family. At age 12 I got a job working for a guy at a local horse stable, the man I worked for eventually gained my trust, he would offer chances to show the horses at shows with me being the rider. One day after he drank a few beers, (he would allow me to drink beer also) he started asking me to help him with an issue, he told me his wife wasn’t able to help and thought I could. He went on telling me more about it and said I only needed to help him this one time. Honestly I didn’t really understand what he was wanting me to do being 12 and knowing nothing about sex, but it just didn’t seem right. I told him I’d have to think about. Over time I realized I didn’t want to lose our relationship and agreed to do this for him the one time only. The day came where I had to do as he requested, I was confused but got the jest of what I had to do, as I began doing it he pulled out a camera and kept snapping pics of me doing this. I asked him what he was going to do with the pics and he said not sure yet. A few days later he told me he will leave pics around the neighberhood for other kids to see. I begged him not to and was scared at the thought of others seeing me doing that. I said I’ll do anything to not show those pics, he replied hmmm let me think! He said if I did the same thing everyday before work for him he could refrain from showing them. I gasped at the thought but if it meant others not seeing the pics I agreed to it. He was a real pig drinking lots of beer and sometimes started laughing as he peed in my mouth. This went on for almost a year. After the abuse things changed I had a fear of men didn’t trust men and basically hated being one. I tried cutting off my genitals twice but because of the trauma involved I was unsuccessful both times. I started wearing my moms and sisters lingerie as it wasn’t part of the abuse and was safe. I started wearing more and more over time. One day my sisters friend accidentally walked in on me while I dressed up in lingerie, she stared in disbelief and eventually left. She eventually told other kids in school and soon everyone knew. I was called a faggot, panywaist, panty boy and so on. Two weeks later during a fire drill two jocks grabbed me as one of there girlfriends pulled my pants down. I was wearing pink nylon granny style panties, a garterbelt and stockings. The whole school was pointing and laughing at me, they held me long enough for everyone to see the loser in his moms lingerie. After that the anxiety was pretty bad. One day I went into the bathroom and noticed one of my sisters left her flat iron plugged in. It didn’t take much thinking, I realized if I couldn’t remove my genitals I could disfigure them with the flat iron. As a result it offered a release like having control over something and dropped off the anxiety. The burning became habitual like I had to complete this mission or something. Eventually it tapered off but didn’t stop completly. My sisters all supported me with wearing women’s lingerie if it makes me happy, they stated be who I am and be proud. Eventually I would go to a park far enough away with my sisters and dressed as a women. It was a real positive for me. One day I went to the park for a walk but my sisters were working so I went alone. I felt comfortable. I was 21 and old enough to be fend myself, as I rounded the park three guys and a girl walked up to me and started calling me names, I tried to ignore them but they got more aggressive. They grabbed me by the arms and said we’re going for a walk to meet there friends, they said if I wanted to leave alive I’d do as they said so I walked with them through the woods to a clearing where there was about 40 guys and a dozen women partying. The main guy said were gonna show you what happens to cocksucking faggots and exposed his disputing thing, he hauled off and hit me hard enough to know they were serious. In fear I did what he asked as others cheered him on. It seemed like forever but eventually finished and started walking away, he said where you going bitch you need to do the same for all my buddies. I went numb like in shock and was so afraid I did what I had to for survival. I didn’t leave until the next morning and was so released to be away from that. After the burning became habitual again and continued burning. Years later I’m doing better but do burn when I get a trigger. The memories of having to do this to 40 plus guys still causes nightmares and triggers.

Thank you for allowing me to share my story.

About the author

WYR

When You’re Ready.org is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories.

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