Join the Aphrodite Wounded Facebook Page Follow the Aphrodite Wounded Vlog Follow the Aphrodite Wounded Twitter Page

Javascript DHTML Drop Down Menu Powered by


Currently Viewing 24 - 24 of 25
View Previous Story | View Next Story | Share YOUR Story | Back to Aphrodite Wounded

Survivor's Name:


Survivor's Story: I had ended an almost 2-year relationship with my perpetrator about 1 month prior to the rape. He was extremely angry.

I was in the process of relocating our office where I worked. As the office manager, I was working overtime, by myself, and the doors to the building where I worked were not locked.

He entered through a back door. Initially I thought he was there to talk to me. When he approached me, he grabbed my hair with one hand and wrapped his other arm, with a small knife in that hand, around the front of my chest. From my hair being pulled I was in a lot of pain and I knew at that point that he would definitely have used the knife, it was pointing upwards towards my throat.

He told me we were going to move into one of the smaller offices within our interior office and that he would make certain that no man would ever want me again when he was through. He also threatened to harm my three young children if I didn't do exactly what I was told and to keep quiet. He then proceeded to have me stand in front of him and take my shirt off for him, to unbutton my blouse slowly - I did, I continued to cry hoping that he would just stop. I pled with him. I tried. This is so damn hard! He bent down in front of me and took off my shoes and tore my stockings off. He then stood in front of me again and told me to remove my skirt - again, slowly. The asshole was getting off on watching me undress. Left in my panties and bra he forcefully turned me around and pushed me up against the desk in the room forcing me to bend forward.

He was still in possession of the knife and ran it across my right shoulder blade telling me again to shut up because at this point my crying was louder. I did not fight him - I am pretty petite and he was very fit. At this point I was still not quieting down enough for him and he turned me back around and grabbed my neck and started to choke me. I was crying and gagging and crying and pleading.

He became increasingly angry and was degrading me, my body, my life. Threatening my life and threatening to harm my children. I don't know if I should say here what was said to me because it would be extremely explicit.

He kneed me a few times in my upper legs enough to bring me down to the floor where he made me perform oral sex on him while holding my hair in his hand. He was pulling my hair and forcing me to perform oral sex on him. He did not ejaculate but stood me back up and told me that I was going to put on a what he called "a little show" for him. At this point he did put the knife down.

I began to struggle with him and I fought him, feeling very degraded by what I knew he wanted me to do. At this point he struck me very hard and picked the knife back up. I was seeing stars from the force of his hand to the side of my head. I stopped struggling because at this point I knew he was crazy enough to actually kill me. His face - I will never forget the anger in his eyes.

He took a chair and placed it in front of the door, sat down and he then pulled me closer to him by my panties with one hand and told me to slowly take them off and, in greater detail than I feel comfortable sharing here, told me to stand in front of him and perform certain acts. Through my tears I did as I was told. He would repeatedly stand up and hit me in the side of my head if I was not "performing" up to his standards.

I was losing touch with reality at this point, slowly drifting off somewhere, to weak in mind and body, almost wishing I would die yet wanting to "get through it" for my daughters. In my mind I kept thanking God that it was me and not one of them. I prayed continuously throughout. He stood back up, placed the knife on the table next to him and slammed me up against some filing cabinets that were in the room. My face was pushed up against the filing cabinet and he was still belittling me and reinforcing that I would never be able to be with another man - he told me that he was not through with me yet, that no man in his right mind would want me when he was done.

I was bleeding at this point, I didn't know then where the blood was coming from. When he pushed me into the filing cabinet my leg began to bleed. I could feel the blood running down my leg, as "checked out" as I was, I could feel the blood. He then hit me again on the other side of my head and told me to bend over willingly or he would "break me". I would not bend over, thinking in my mind, somehow thinking, that he didn't have the knife. He threw me to the ground and entered me from behind.

After that he entered me anally and I could feel him tearing me. The pain was excruciating, he was brutal and vicious, beyond my comprehension. He was pulling my head back with my hair in his hand. I did not feel as though, at this point that I would die by the knife, but by what he was doing to me. The knife would have been almost preferable in some odd way. The pain was knifelike and I was pretty sure that I was now bleeding. I was deliriously crying, trying to breathe through the pain. He did ejaculate and when he was through forcefully turned me over, told me that now no one would have or want me and that he would keep in touch.
He also told me not to call the police or he would do the same to my daughter. He through me his t-shirt and told me to clean myself up - "you're bleeding bitch". I laid there for what seemed like hours, but was probably only about five to ten minutes. When I did get up I was very disoriented, dizzy, shaking. It took me at least a half an hour to clean myself up and put my clothes back on.

I don't recall driving home. I have a slight recollection of wanting to call my estranged husband and then thought twice about it. I went home and spent the better part of the next three days showering repeatedly and changing my clothes. It was strange, my clothes felt safe in some moments and scared the hell out of me the next.

It has been almost four years and this is the first time I have been able to open up about what happened in this great of detail. I've left some parts out, partially because they are just so utterly embarrassing and I do not want to lose what little pride I have been left with, partially because I was uncertain as to how explicit this question required me to be. I've tried getting through this on my own - with some help from a friend, but I am still battling this, still breaking down, still facing the challenges of flashbacks, still feeling as though no one can truly understand.
Submitted November 21 , 2010 5 : 54 am

Currently Viewing 24 - 24 of 25
View Previous Story | View Next Story | Share YOUR Story | Back to Aphrodite Wounded


©2002 - 2013
Copying of any part of this site without permission is strictly prohibited