Recently as I was walking to a running track, I noticed that a man was walking opposite of my direction. I think I heard a catcalling whistle coming out of that man's mouth and I noticed that he was looking down toward my legs while making a smiling or smirking facial expression after that whistling. Do you think it was clearly a catcalling attempt and if it was, what measure should I take if I ever get catcalled again in the future that won't make a public spectacle?

EDIT: I didn't expect to trigger some men with questionnable minds to comment on this post lmao. Also, I am straight (in case anyone's wondering about my orientation).

I've been trapped in this situationship-type relationship with the woman who assaulted me (I'm a trans man, she's a cis girl, she was intimate with me several times a week for 3 months straight last year, against my will) because in the past, when I've left her, she's turned people against me and threatened suicide.

There's this girl who me and her know, and she's starting to show interest in me, and I can't help but like that girl. She seems so sweet and caring, and I trust her that she wouldn't do anything to me. But, my assaulter knows about her possible crush on me, and is starting to get more clingy with me and upset at the girl. My assaulter does this with every girl who shows interest in me. It's so tiring.

I don't know if that's considered cheating on my assaulter. I feel bad because it feels like I'm going behind her back, but I can't be honest with her or else I'm afraid of the consequences. I just feel like such a shitty person.

Two years ago, I was attending an after-party for my college’s Pride club (as a bisexual man). I was getting drunk, and was offered weed at the time. This ended with me getting extremely cross-faded and throwing up. A bunch of blurry, raunchy card games flew by, and I found myself wandering the campus with some random guy I’d never met before. He’d said he’d gotten locked out of the dorm he was staying at, and I was hungry, so I walked to the on-campus convenience store, and he followed. I got food, and he asked me to get him a tub of Vaseline because “his lips were chapped”. Me, out of touch with reality, was tryna be a cool Samaritan because I didn’t want the pride people to reject me for being too straight-presenting, so I bought him that with my meal plan allowance money. It was like 3 bucks so I wasn’t pressed. We’re just walking around and he starts talking about sexual stuff, which kinda weirds me out a bit, but maybe this is normal pride club stuff (coming from a guy who was raised in texas). After wandering around for a bit more, we settled on this couch that was in a small arcade, and I made sure I was at the opposite end of him. I must have passed out from exhaustion or cross-fading, but I woke up a few hours later with him seemingly asleep on the other end of the couch and a strange sensation down there. I ignored it because I had to get back to my dorm, had school the next day, and when I got back to my room I finally investigated. My genitalia smelled strongly of Vaseline. I don’t have any other recollections of the night except the dude was kinda weirdly touchy, but again, just thought that was normal gay friend stuff, I mean girl friends touch their friends on the arms and shoulders and whatnot, so I just let it be. My working theory is that while I was passed out, my dick was sucked or tugged (not to completion) by a random gay dude I had just met… I can’t think of any other outcome that would make my crotch oily and smelling of Vaseline. It’s been two years now, and I haven’t been able to tell my girlfriend about it- we’re long distance- because I fear she’ll think it was on purpose. I don’t know what I did to deserve that night, but now I am just filled with fear of what she’d say.

21M.

When I was around 13, I was restrained, raped, and mocked, and later blackmailed and beaten by an older boy.

With the help of therapy, I’ve moved past the guilt; I know now i was just a kid and couldn't have done anything differently.

But the shame consumes me. And why? If we aren't to blame, why do we feel shame?

There are several conflicting dimensions to this situation that I’m trying to piece together to get a complete picture. Not all of them were discussed in therapy, i always have a hard time talking about this, precisely because of the shame.

When it all happened, I was still figuring out my sexuality and interests, yet I know I felt a huge attraction to that boy;

It all started as a game, and at first, I remember i was fascinated by the attention I was getting, but it quickly spiraled out of control.

When I think about it, the greatest humiliation I felt, even more than the rape itself, was the fact that he noticed I was aroused and mocked me for it. I feel like that validated him and made him want to keep going.

Despite all the violence, he maintained an attitude and language that hovered between lustful and affectionate. That affection still disturbs me to this day.

Later, he blackmailed me, threatening to tell everyone, as if the fault had been mine.

Ultimately, it wasn't the first time I had been abused, so deep down, I kinda always felt I should have known better by then.

All of this deeply upsets me and leaves me with an overwhelming sense of feeling dirty and ashamed. And i am tired.

How do we get past this stage? Can anyone share what worked for them? I feel like this is the step i am missing right now.

I will try not to rant about everything becuase I could just go on. Im 23 year old male and when I was younger my grandfather touched me, and it started out as just touching me and then later it progressed into him making me touch his penis and then after that it progressed to him telling me to put his penis in my mouth. I didnt want to but I did it. He made me continue doing that until he ejaculated. This happened multiple times over a several year period. I feel conflicted about him and what he did to me. Sometimes it felt good when he touched me and I guess sometimes I liked feeling his penis in my mouth but I also felt ashamed, embarrassed and dirty. I just feel like Im not a normal college student. I dont think anybody would guess that this happened to me. Sometimes I want to confront my grandfather. Sometimes I almost wish he do it to me again. And I just hate this. I dont know what Im supposed to do because I dont feel like a normal college student and that what I want to be. Sorry for the ranting. Anybody have any suggestions?

Basically im M19 and went on a night out the other day and I had way too much much to drink paired with drugs and ended up not remembering hardly anything and at one point in the night I went with my friend to a girls house cause I thought he was going to get off with her, I don’t know why I went but if I thought they were looking after me and the next thing I know at some point she had her mouth around my limp dick, I don’t think anything else happened but I know I was too fucked to give consent so idk what to do, especially what do I say to my girlfriend, it’s made me depressed the last couple of days

I (24M) was SA’d as a kid by my sister & cousin brother, they both did it separately and are not ever of the other doing it to me. I’ve never told this to anyone, and probably never will.

All instances happened 10-15 years back, but I remember them pretty well. I’m still close to the people who did it (regular chats, video calls, etc. usual family stuff), and I know that they’ll ever do it again to anyone else, considering their political beliefs and stances.

It’s just something that pops in every now and then, and has affected me intimacy wise. But, it’s fine and manageable for me, my burden to carry.

Always thought of getting therapy, but that scares/weirds me out too. It’s easier to continue living life keeping this to myself than sharing it with anyone.

Sometimes the jokey-funny guy mask slips, but thats only temporary and I always manage to get it back up.

So yeah that’s it, will probably delete this in a while too.

Hi everyone.

21M, survivor of csa and sa.

This year, I finally decided to start therapy, and yeah it’s been a game-changer so far. It helped me come to terms with the fact that I couldn't have done more or any better.

However, there’s something that still bothers me. Only two people know what I went through because i wanted them to know, my partner and a very close friend, but not much details of it.

Yet, the idea of ​​being seen as weak or a victim, or worrying that others might view me with pity or see me as vulnerable holds me back in this process of acceptance and healing. The thought of people finding out about this part of my life makes me feel sick. It also makes my therapy sessions more difficult, because I feel uncomfortable talking about it and allowing myself to be vulnerable and honest about my feelings.

I imagine this is something many of you can relate to, and I’d like to know if anyone has managed to overcome those feelings?

How did you do it?

First of all, I'm sorry if any part of this is too explicit. I don't know how else to tell the story. 10 years ago I was sexually assaulted by my girlfriend. It was the first time I had ever had sex, and I had consented to the sex. She was on top of me, and I told her I was about to cum, that I didn't want to inside of her, and to get off. She didn't listen to me, and kept going until I was finished. It's been 10 years. It's never bothered me until now. Until I realized that It was sexual assault, and now I can't get over it, why? I feel terrible about it, but I also don't feel as bad as I should. Part of me feels like I was raped, but I don't know if I can even call it rape. I have a cnc kink, as the recipient, and now I just feel disgusted by the fact that that even appeals to me. Like it's not natural, like she did that to me, and it's not really coming from myself. I guess I just don't know what to do or think about any of this. I know I just have to keep living my life, and be glad that I didn't have it as bad as other people, but I also don't feel like I can just brush it off. What do I do? I am in therapy, for what it's worth.

TW: sexuality, violence

Hi,
The abuse I went through completely distorted my relationship with desire and sexuality.
The only thing that sexually arouses me is violence. But not just any kind of violence. It's violence driven by revenge.
The moment when someone who seems weak and powerless transforms into an unstoppable force and turns their strength against those who hurt them. Characters like Hulk, Carrie, or Andrew from Chronicle trigger that response in me. Or rather, it's the transformation itself that affects me: the shift from vulnerability to overwhelming power.
I know this probably sounds strange. For a long time, I was deeply ashamed of it. But over the years, I've come to understand that it isn't my fault.
I was psychologically damaged by what happened to me. This is likely one of the scars I'll carry for the rest of my life, and I deeply regret that.

Does anyone else experience something similar?

If you do, and if you've been ashamed to talk about it, maybe this is the right moment. At some point, we have to stop feeling ashamed of the consequences of the harm that was done to us. The shame belongs to those who caused the damage, not to those who survived it.

Thank you for reading.

I (30M) have been sexually harassed and assaulted by women a handful of times during my life. These all range from uncomfortable comments to being physically held down and assaulted while everyone laughed in amusement. All of these occurred when I was in high school (2010-14), before the #metoo movement broke out. As well as being an age where I was so starved for female attention, that I tried to view these assaults as validation, even when they didn’t feel that way. 

I remember when #metoo happened and reading about women’s experiences, that I realized I could relate to these stories and that the memories I was trying to push down as joking around was actually sexual assault. But I felt I couldn’t contribute to the conversation because I was a man. Especially since at the time I was a college student involved with several progressive organizations, where trashing men had become the norm. To the point I was fired from a job because I showed pushback when my boss said it was acceptable to say ‘all men are pigs’. 

So it felt like I was silently living with double the shame: the shame of being a man, and the shame of being assaulted, where I feel I can never confront those who hurt me.

Earlier this year I received a PTSD diagnosis for sexual trauma, and while it’s somewhat gratifying to get a diagnosis and I’m currently in EMDR treatment, I also find it tremendously lonely. Pretty much every online resource I look at for dealing with sexual trauma is geared towards women, many of which tend to showcase a negative view of men. 

In light of the horrible Cornel 7 case, much of the loneliness I’ve felt has been brought back to the forefront of my mind. Both the shame of being sexually assaulted in front of a group of people and the conversations about ‘all men’.

This is in no way a post about minimizing women's experiences. I hope we can get to a point where we can have more open conversation about the fact that women also can commit sexual violence, much of which is brushed off and unreported. And I have a strong feeling if we did open these conversations up, I likely wouldn’t be in the minority.

CW: child abuse, emotional abuse, neglect, family violence, incestuous dynamics, sexual abuse

Hi,
I think I need help or some kind of support. I don't really know. I am going through yet another period of that endless cycle where I doubt whether I was really a victim, even though something feels deeply wrong.
I grew up in a dysfunctional family and had a very strange relationship with my mum. Looking back now, I can say that I was her toy boy, expected to satisfy whatever she wanted from me. If I was not good enough, she would scream like hell or become completely hysterical. I remember her shouting, hitting herself, and ripping her clothes because of something my sister or I had supposedly done. At that time, I was under six years old.
She would also leave us by ourselves while she was working or visiting friends. Sometimes, we unlocked the door of our apartment and wandered into the corridor, and she would come home and find us there.
Growing up, I was regularly exposed to her nudity, and she continued looking at mine every week until I was 30 years old. The whole situation was very paradoxical because sex was a complete taboo in our house.
I slept in her bed until high school. She gave me one bath every week until I was 30, and I was obviously completely naked. She insisted on shaving my genitals. At the same time, she never taught me how to brush my teeth or how to take care of myself. During the rest of the week, I rarely showered or brushed my teeth. She also let me suck her nipples, explaining that this was where the milk that had fed me as a baby had come from.
I was also terrified of her other son. He made me feel useless and unwanted. Whenever I tried to do something he disliked, he could beat me, threaten me, or insult me. I never felt that he was capable of loving me. He taught me fear. He taught me complete submission.
When my father died, they did not tell me, and because of that I missed his funeral.
I only began to realize how violent my upbringing had been when I turned 30. Before then, I genuinely believed everything was fine. Normal. But it was not.
I was neglected to the point that my life could have been in danger. I was humiliated, beaten, and sexually abused. Yet today, it sometimes feels as though my mind is trying to erase it or make me doubt it ever happened.
Maybe that is because I did not experience it as violence at the time. Maybe it is because there were good moments too. Because it was insidious, hidden, and often disguised as "care". I feel so stupid for not having understood earlier that none of this was normal.
Today, at 40, I feel like a defenseless little boy seeking for protection, kindness, love. I am definitely broken.

I got raped by a man at a party when i was 17, then i got sexually assaulted at 19 two times by women on the bus on my way to college and it has destroyed my life. Right after getting raped i tried to 💀 myself by drinking bleach (idk if drinking it could actually kill you) then 2 weeks later i tried again but this time with an overdose, then the real problems began: i cried every night, i felt sick every time i looked in the mirror an stopped caring about how i looked, my social skills went down the drain, I started drifting away from my friends until i ended up completely alone, i started using marihuana to cope with the pain, the most important person in my life (my girl best friend) now hates me because she felt i didn‘t care about her, and i pushed away every girl that had an interest in me due to the shever panic and repulsion i feel towards sex now. And the worst part? i have to cope with it alone, i’ve seen women report rape cases with a shit ton of evidence get totally ignored, if i go and tell the police (or anyone really) that i got raped by a man they will laught at me for being weak, if i tell them i got assaulted by a women they will call me “lucky”. I told the only friend i had left everything and he thought i was lying, i don’t have money for therapy and i just can’t tell my parents. I feel ashamed, weak, gross and alone all the fucking time, i don’t talk to anyone anymore, i haven’t had a good day in years, everything i once liked doesn’t bring me any joy anymore, i feel tired all the time and i don’t know what to do.

On top of the rape and the sexual assaults have a shit ton of problems (for example i have a constant headache and sometimes it evolves to a migraine) and all of this while i have to pretend to be fine with my parents.

I don’t even know why i made this post, maybe i just wanted to talk to someone about this, or talk to someone in general, so please if you have an advice or something, tell me

(also I’m sorry if i write like shit, I’m from Ecuador and english is not my primary language)

As the title said I found myself getting more almost sensitive when it comes to things. For example (and the reason I made this post) was basically today I went into a corner shop and basically on my way to get a drink I had to pass some magazines, but then on my way I saw a porno magazine open to a random page and for some reason it triggered me (the same feeling but to a lesser extent to when I saw one of my abusers the other week) and I genuinely felt like I was going to pass out and I felt extremely sensitive. I’ve just found that it’s been happening more and more lately to the point it’s impacting my life (before you ask I am in therapy but it’s a struggle to find times when I’m free that the therapist is also free).

Hola, soy de México y esto nunca lo he contado a nadie, no recuerdo a qué edad sucedió pero solo se que fue cuando iba en la primaria, mi papá nos abandono cuando nací y mi padrastro se encargaba de mi los fines de semana y ahí abusaba de mi, me engañaba y me hacía ver el abuso como amor, me lo hacía parecer normal y me decía que al igual que con mi mamá el me trataba igual porque me amaba y siempre me decia eso pero que no debía decir nada, fueron casi dos años así, aunque había temporadas que no lo hacía, pero siempre volvía, un día tuvo una pelea muy fuerte con mi mamá y se separaron desde entonces solo lo he visto de lejos pocas veces y me aterra, aunque se fue el daño que me hizo nunca se podrá reparar, creci siendo un niño inseguro y temeroso, sufrí de bullying y nunca he tenido novia, me drogaba , me duele admitirlo pero después de un tiempo me gustaba y extrañaba esa sensación, se que esta mal pero eso me sucedió y no sé si por eso ahora me gustan los hombres

I’m still coming to terms with it. It’s been a few months now since it happened and I’ve been in this weird mental position where some days I can parse out and think about the events of that night and some days where I break down crying and spiral.

I was with an older man I knew from Atlanta who was a music producer. We were together for about a year and a half before we went LD so he could work on some music in California. I helped him move, etc.

I ended up getting a travel job and had work near him in California. I invite him to come stay with me at the company hotel so we can see each other.

Long story short, he changed very much physically, emotionally and mentally in the span since he left. Hard into the drugs, coke and meth. I also was 90% he was sleeping around based on some messages I found on his Gmail account from Doublelist. I also found Grindr on his phone.

When he showed up at first, I didn’t recognize him. He even smelled different. Felt like I was looking at a stranger rather than the man I remembered.

Long story short, I bring up breaking things off after an awkward reunion. A few weeks later, I went drinking with some coworkers and came back plastered. I had been sleeping on the couch, letting him take the bed.

I drunkenly woke up later that night to his hand in my pants. He was whispering in my ear and on top of me, telling me how much he loved me. I had been avoiding intimacy because I wasn’t sure if he was still clean due to suspected infidelity.

He had his pants off and was trying to free me from my pants so he could ride. I drunkenly freak out and we get into a physical altercation where I ended up overpowering him and stopped him from going any further. No penetration was achieved.

I ended up leaving in a sobbing panic, I drove the company rental truck out into the desert and slept under it until about 10-11 the next day. After I woke up I went back to the hotel and found him sleeping. I woke up him up and he tried to reconcile which I shut down before telling him to get his shit and bounce before I fucked him up. We were through. He said he’s broke so I ended up getting him a motel room on the other side of the city partially out of pity.

He’s been stalking and harassing me since. Changed my number 2x.

Does anyone have advice or maybe some books on healing from this? I can’t afford therapy right now.

I uh really need somewhere that I can talk about this because I’m alone and I feel so vulnerable/confused. Basically I was dating this girl three years ago and I’m positive she raped me.. I never processed this night fully, and what I did process, I didn’t know if it was actually rape or not… until now.

So being a guy at the time, I was never taught the dangers of being taken advantage of by a woman.. ppl expect that we’re the ones to take advantage, so ig they don’t feel a need to warn us? Anyways I always thought that “oh we’re in a relationship so it’s okay for a partner to satisfy their sexual needs whenever they need” or something like that. I guess I just didn’t know that in a relationship you still have to give consent… but I was super scared to even make a first move on a woman when I was growing up, and the thought of taking advantage of someone sexually never crossed my mind. No means no. I have a sister… I know how I’d feel if someone took advantage of her..

So I was sleeping in our bedroom, my gf (now ex) and I had been living together for a while now.. we had been arguing that day and weren’t particularly getting along. Over the frustrating day I was especially tired and dozed off. I wake up feeling extremely foggy headed and groggy like I’d been binge drinking and I feel my member start to twitch.. it felt good… but wait.. why does it feel good. what is happening right now? I then see her bobbing her head up and down giving me fellatio..

I guess she thought it’d be hot to wake me up out of my sleep to sex… but I didn’t want sex.. I didn’t want any of it. I just wanted to die. Curl into a ball and die.

“No”… “please stop” “I don’t want this”

That’s all that was passing through my mind. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t make any noises. I couldn’t think. I still can’t think. I just can’t. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want it but I didn’t know what to do. My body wanted it so that must mean I want it too right. God the worst part is that when I think about this experience my body becomes aroused and I hate it bc no… please no. I was violated and taken advantage of and my body enjoying it is just so confusing and mind wrecking bc I didn’t want it. I didn’t want it to feel good.. or bad. I didn’t want to feel at all.

She then finished fellatio and then she um. She uh got on top of me and she.. put me inside of her… while I was feeling the feeling of me entering her, I was crying on the inside. “No no no please stop no” “I don’t want any of this right now” and then blank.. just nothing. She was riding me, bucking, like she owed me money and I just laid there out of my body.. I disassociated from myself, just waiting for it to end. Waiting for this torture to stop. I just told myself “it’s okay, just lay here until she’s done and… She’ll stop eventually.” Sure it felt good, but I didn’t want it to.

I just remember the feeling… dark, scary, and dangerous. Each wave of pleasure sent me further into hell. I was just laying there. I froze and I didn’t know what to do. As a man at the time I’m supposed to want sex right? I’ll feel like I’m less of a man for not wanting sex right? I wish I knew back then what I know now got damnit. The worst part was the dirty talk and the most conflicting part was me cumming. I’ve been crying so hard over this today it’s too overwhelming. I was taken advantage of, exposed, vulnerable and my body enjoyed it? This sent me into a spiral and I just broke down and started crying.

I felt so empty.. just like a husk. I barely remember the whole thing and what I can remember makes me horny and I hate that. I hate getting aroused thinking about the fact that my innocence was prayed upon. I can’t cope with the fact that someone I put in a category of trust, on a lvl such as my own parents, sexually assaulted me, took advantage of me for their own pleasure, treating me like a sexual object, not even considering that I may not be consenting, just because I was born with a penis.. and it’s what I should want anyways.. I should be lucky that I was raped against my wishes in the middle of the night by someone that I had trusted blindly.. right? 😒

And I’m so sorry to the younger me who so innocently trusted others. Even if they don’t realize how much what just happened is going to hurt later on.

This is just now resurfacing, i think bc im embracing femininity now, and regardless of opinions on fem ppl, I realized that the woman that she was, was a monster. That after exploring my own femininity for years after, that what she did isn’t normal behavior. The feminine person I’m becoming is leagues better a lady than what I experienced. The person that I’m becoming feels like the protector of that scared, vulnerable version of myself.

I didn’t know any better when I was younger. and I’m only now dealing with all the emotions from being raped. This is new to me so I don’t know what is right to feel. I feel like I’m lying to everyone by thinking I was raped, I feel stupid bc how can a man get raped by a woman, I feel scared because I let myself get taken advantage of, I feel weak, scattered, like I’m just blowing things out of proportion… there are so many different emotions that I don’t know what to feel. This is just a feeling I can’t get rid of bc it’s something that happened to me and it hurts so so damn bad.

It’s been over 25 years and I’ve never talked about this to anyone before but I need to get it out.

To graduate high school with an advanced degree we were required to take 3 years of a foreign language. I was taking Spanish to meet the requirement but to put it mildly I was really bad. I was otherwise a straight A student, but had gotten a C in both Spanish 1 and 2. My junior year I was taking Spanish 3 and was floundering, I had a C- by a point in the fall semester. Then in the spring semester we had a student teacher come in. Not that my regular teacher had been mean to me or hadn’t been trying to help me get through the classes but she was exceptionally attentive to me and seemed to take a deep interest in helping me.

It was the second or third week of her being in the classroom when she asked me if she could help me study after school. She told me she was sure that she could help me get through the class. This wasn’t the first time a teacher had offered to help and it hadn’t really worked before but I was willing to try anything to get through the class and be done with the language requirement for my diploma.

We started meeting for an hour after school in the classroom for a week or two. It was helping some but it wasn’t like a light bulb had gone off and I suddenly goy it, my brain just doesn’t do langauge well, while I had an A in English, that was by far my hardest subject outside of Spanish.

Then one afternoon that we didn’t have a session she saw me walking to my car, the junior lot was behind the teacher lot, and called me over to her car. She told me she thought the sessions were helping (they were a little but again I was more or less accepting a barely passing grade) but that if I really wanted to get better I should try some immersion where I was forced to use the language. She said there was a Mexican restaurant by her apartment that did Mexican karaoke and that going and listening and trying to do all the ordering in Spanish might help. I told her that sounded like I would make a fool of myself but she told me it would be fine and that she would come and help me.

I really didn’t want to have to repeat the year of Spanish as a senior so I agreed. I met her there the next day. I suffered through an hour of pure embarrassment as I felt like a clueless fish out of water. That said, while I didn’t understand a word or the music, I did manage to order and get through the meal having very basic conversation with her using almost nothing but Spanish, I only had to revert to English once or twice. So I suppose I felt like it was at least a potential success?

After our next after school session she again told me that immersion was the key to getting better and that it was casual conversation in the real world, not the classroom, that would help me the most. She suggested we do the Mexican restaurant again the next week and I agreed.

The next week I felt just as out of water at the resultant, I still was embarrassed at how bad my accent and overall use of Spanish was. As we were leaving I told her that I appreciated the help but I was embarrassed by how stupid I must sound to the staff and anyone who could hear me struggling to talk to her so I didn’t think I could do it again. She told me that I shouldn’t be embarrassed but that if I wanted to keep trying the casual dinner conversation without an audience we could do a meal at her apartment and only use Spanish.

This was the point I should have said no. I should have known this wasn’t ok. I knew this wasn’t normal, and while she hadn’t said not to tell anyone, I hadn’t even told my parents about the Mexican restaurant, I had just said I was getting dinner with a friend. But I was so desperate to find a way to pass the class that I agreed. So two nights later I found myself at her apartment. Again not telling anyone where I was really going.

More alarm bells should have gone off when I got there. She was wearing a dress that would never have been acceptable at school given how short it was and how much cleavage it showed. But I missed the signs there. She welcomed me in using Spanish and we started to struggle through a discussion of how my day had been and what she was making for dinner.

When she sat down to eat she sat next to me not across from me at the table. After a few bites she broke from Spanish as she put her hand on my leg and asked me if I was enjoying myself. Again, I should have had alarm bells going off, but I didn’t. I don’t know if it was the desire to pass the class or how nice it felt that she seemed to care, but I just didn’t see any issue. I told her I was really thankful for her help and that I appreciated what she was doing for me.

She took my hand and put it on her thigh and asked me if I would be willing to show her some appreciation for her help. I told her I was incredibly appreciative. She asked again and I asked what she meant. She kept her hand on mine, slid it towards her groin and said that she thought I might show her my appreciation by helping her feel good.

At this point I somewhat understood where she was going, but was incredibly confused. I told her I didn’t understand. She said she needed some help to feel good and that she hoped I would help her like she had been helping me. At this point stupid 16 year old brain took over, I told her I wasn’t sure, that I thought I knew what she was asking but that I didn’t know if I would be any good at it. She told me not to worry, that she would help me here too.

From there things just kept spiraling. She had me rub her through her panties, then took them off and had me finger her. She was guiding my hand the entire time, telling me how good it felt and how much she appreciated me helping her since she had helped me. Then she stood up, walked me over to the couch, and took off her dress. She sat down on the couch, told me to kneel in front of her, and then she guided my face into her groin and told me to lick her. She guided me through eating her pussy for a while until she had an orgasm. Then she got up, got dressed and said we should finish dinner. When I finished eating she said goodbye, said I obviously shouldn’t tell anyone, and asked if I would come back the next week. Stunned I said yes.

This went on for the next two months before her student teaching ended. Once or twice a week I would go to her apartment, eat her out for a while, then go home. The last few times she had me get naked too. A once she had me jerk off while I ate her and the last two times she had us 69 and she made me cum in her mouth. The week before she was done with her student teaching she told me that she was sure I would do fine in the class and that since her student teaching was over our tutoring sessions would need to be done too.

I haven’t seen her since her last day of student teaching. She for sure gave me a kink for being a submissive muff diver. I know what she did was taking advantage of me but I also feel like anyone I would have told then or now is going to be like “oh poor high schooler got to hook up with a college girl and has a normal “kink” how bad.” I feel like even my wife wouldn’t understand as she actually hates oral so would just find it gross. Anyway, I needed to get it off my chest.

Ok ive been grapped like 5 or 6 times in life. From as a young boy to parties bars ect. So im demisexual. My gf quite literally doesnt believe in consent and talks about nsfw stuff all day every day. She knows it makes me uncomfortable. She even gropped me on the first date in public. We live far from each other but shes coming over for my birthday. She got an air b n b. I already told her I dont want any nsfw stuff but she told me if I didnt that I didn't like her. Like all I asked for was not to have sex on the 3rd date and shes manipulating me about it. I already know she has plans because she told me her plans. Honestly if she tries anything im cutting ties with her. To be brutally honest the fact that shes coming over and wants me to stay the night is dreadful cause I know im gonna get grapped again and its ruining my birthday as well.

I feel like I’m missing out on experiences because of my anxiety/fear about sex. I don’t even know what the fear is exactly. I just don’t know what to do about it. I spoke to my therapist a bit about what happened as a little kid, but it hasn’t helped much. I know these things take time but what else should I do?