Craig’s story: scared into silence

Craig’s story: scared into silence

I was a male outcast with no real friends, and certainly no girlfriends. I was short for my age. My two older sisters seemed like my only friends. My sisters’ idea of fun were girl-oriented games like makeovers and playing dressup, with them working to make me look, walk, and talk like a girl and would tell me how pretty I looked. I enjoyed the games and spending time with them. They gave me some of their old clothes that no longer fit them to wear. I began playing dressup even when they weren’t around and began shaving my legs and armpits and using girl’s deodorant. I kept my hair longer, so I could style it like a girl. It was a confusing time for me, but for some reason I felt better about myself when I was dressed as a girl, and thought my life would have been easier if I was born a girl. Being a boy, I couldn’t go outside wearing skirts and dresses I preferred wearing, so I would wear panties and girl’s socks under my boy clothes. I was on the heavy side and with more breast tissue than normal, I had no trouble filling out a bra I sometimes also wore.

When an older girl at school, ‘L’, asked if I wanted to hang out with her, I wanted a friend that so badly other than just my sisters that I accepted immediately and went to her house. It was okay at first, she wanted to play a game and dared me to dress in some clothes she picked out. The clothes were a girl’s blouse, skirt, and heels. I was already wearing panties and had a bra and socks with me, so I put on the bra and socks along with the other clothes and walked back out to her. She could tell it wasn’t my first time dressing up and walking in heels and saw my legs were shaved. She said I looked cute. She dragged me to her room and put some makeup on me. When she was done, she got closer and kissed me on my lips roughly, which I wasn’t prepared for, so I pushed her away.

She seemed a bit upset, but apologized profusely and offered me a drink. I didn’t feel good about it at all and should have left right then, but didn’t. I sat on her bed and waited. She returned a short time later and handed me the drink and I took a sip. It tasted funny, but she said that was the alcohol in it. I felt grown up drinking alcohol. She asked me since I obviously enjoyed dressing like a girl if I liked boys. I told her I thought girls. I finished my drink and remember feeling very sleepy and needing to lay down. When I woke up I felt very sore. The blouse was unbuttoned all the way and my nipples were sore, the skirt was hiked up, and my panties were pulled down in the back and I was now wearing a wet maxipad. The girl was wearing her bra and wearing what looked like a penis, I later learned was a strapon. I had no memory of what happened, but she told me that I had another drink and saw my panties and I told her I like liked wearing them. She showed me her dildo and here strapon and what they were used for, and she said I seemed really interested about it and wanting to try it out and asked her to use it on me. The reason I felt sore, was because we had sex, rather she had used her strapon to have sex with me. She told me I loved it and she had helped me put the pad in so I wouldn’t make a mess on her bed, and good thing too, because I moaned like a little slut and had came from her screwing me.

I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. I just remember having the one drink. She said it was no big deal to her, but any boy who likes wearing panties and bras, shaving his legs and armpits and dressing like a girl and not wanting to kiss girls and that horny for her dildo strapon must secretly like boys. I had masturbated myself before, and when I checked, the wetness in the pad in my panties it smelled like me. She told he I was ready and willing. I felt sick about the whole thing.

She asked if I wanted to do it again, and I told her no, and I had to leave. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going anyway. I took off her clothes and heels and got dressed and left. I felt very strange the rest of the day, but thout it was just the alcohol.

I played it over and over in my mind, and could only think that she must have raped me while I was passed out.

I later confronted her and asked her ditectly if she had raped me, but she denied it telling me I was horny and willing. She said if I kept going on about about rape, she would tell everyone that I was gay and liked wearing panties and dressing up as a girl and really enjoyed getting screwed. I wasn’t sure if I was gay, but I did like wearing girl’s clothes, and my sisters already knew that, but I wasn’t ready for everyone to know my secret.

Out of fear, I never told anyone what happened. One of my sisters saw me talking with that girl and warned me to stay away from her because they had heard nasty things about her. Unfortunately for me it was too late.

Dressing up after that wasn’t as fun after that. I couldn’t get what had happened out of my mind. I stopped playing dressup with my sisters, got my hair and stopped shaving my legs and armpits.

I had alcohol after that, but it never affected me the same way, so I can only think she must have spiked the drink. What she did to me still angers me, but I am angry at myself for letting my fears of my secret being out keep me silent.

Author

WYR

WYR

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

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