Aphrodite Wounded: Anonymous's Story

I left that school to go and try it somewhere else. I had low grades and I failed miserably. But at least they were nice to me. They were friendly. no friends but I liked it. Felt a bit better. I was 17 around that time and I went out for the first time in my life. My Mom and Dad kept me home as long as possible. With this really low self esteem I went out and I was disappointed by boys who wanted to kiss me and than say how ugly I was. I was always alone. Sitting at the bar drinking my coca cola a 30 something man approached me. He was nice, introduced himself and made me feel good about myself. He was nice,.tender and thenn kissed me gently. Let me call him H*.

Of course H* wanted to date me. Well, the 17 year old ugly girl didn't know what happened to her. That same evening, he wanted to get some fresh air: If I would like to join him. Of course I would love to join him. He pulled me in a dark niche of a wall and started to kiss me, pushing his tongue in my mouth. I replied, although I had no idea what I was doing. His hands began to touch my breasts over my clothes. That should have been a warning signal, but I let him. He began to put his hands in my shirt, squeezing my breasts. His posture changed he got more dominant. He forced his hand in my pants and started fingering me.

I had no idea what was happening, but somehow my body reacted. I got wet and he loved it. He went down on his knees, unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down. I looked up to the stars, ashamed and scared. I didn't know what to say, but this was not something I wanted to do. He began to perform oral sex on me, pushing his tongue in my vagina. I felt so dirty at the time. I felt like dying. I could not look at him, but I did. He looked at me and made me watch him licking me down there. His eyes...he had changed into a dominant bastard. He came up and forced his tongue in my mouth hard. Than he opened his pants took my hand and began to teach me how to do a hand job. I felt a penis for the first time. Than he took his penis out and made me look at it. He laughed so scary. I wanted to run, but my legs could not move. I began to tremble and he put his hands on my shoulder. I did it to you, do it to me H* said. He pushed me down and forced his penis in my mouth. I did say "No I never done that" but it was to late. I had to do what he was telling me to do and he came in my mouth. I wanted to spit it out, but he made me swallow his "gift".

Instead of never seeing him again, I kept dating him for two months and he forced me to give him blow jobs. He taught me how to drink. I was more willing to do it. The fact that I vomited afterwards was not his problem. He broke up, I cried. Why? I don't know. I hated him raping me over and over again. But I didn't realize at that time that it was rape. I was prudish. I just had to lighten up. H* enjoyed that submissive girl that followed his orders. The drinking went on. I am an alcoholic and I try so hard to stop drinking. But you think that this was it. No my story isn't finished at this point.

I was almost raped by three men. They were nice to me, I thought they were friends. They forced me on the ground, starting to pull my shirt up, and to squeeze my breasts. They began to pull my pants down. I kicked my legs screamed stop and tried to fight of those six hands. They began to squeeze my genitals and it was humiliating. If I hadn't had my period they would have raped me. But they stopped, leaving me lying half naked between the leaves. I cleaned up, got dressed and went home to drink. Later that day I fucked with someone. I have no idea who it was. I was too drunk.

The diabolic relationship started later on. P* was manipulative. He abused me mentally and physically. If he wanted to fuck I was there for him. He was a beautiful looking man. Face of an angel, gentle smile. Loved by many girls. He would fuck me after he closed the bar. He would call me to him and I would obey. He did everything and I had to make him come. He didn't care if I came. He would kiss other women and flirt with them while I watched; He would look at me and make fun of me, telling everybody how ugly my body was. P* even fucked another woman while I was in the same room, feeling their bodies against mine hearing them laugh over me, I felt so humiliated. Later that night he wanted to come and he ordered me to give him a hand job while he fingered me. I was dry, it was hurting. I had tears in my eyes and he just kept on doing because he wanted an orgasm. I had to simulate that I liked it, so I started to fake.

My low self esteem hit rock bottom and I tried to cut my wrist (with a blunt object). I only had scratches when some one entered and she shook me awake. She grabbed my shoulders and wondered why I was so stupid to let this guy treat me like that. I stopped seeing him and met my husband. I was smoking pot and drinking heavily at that time. I was willing and fucked anyone for free pot and booze. Instead of hating sex I became promiscuous: Anything for free joints and booze. Hand jobs, blow jobs. They put fingers and other objects in my vagina and I would let them go down on me. My bf T* was not any better. He loved that I was so sexual active and I gave him all he wanted. T* said what he wanted and I obeyed. Throughout our marriage it stayed the same. But after a few weeks dating my bf (now husband) I met P* again. He was, again, nice to me. But he didn't like the bar we were at: If I wanted to join him and go to this other place. I said okay. He took the d-tour. We started kissing and he pulled me in a dark little forest. I replied. I had one condom with me, because I wanted to make love to my bf that weekend. He started to finger me and I said; "stop, this is wrong please P* No", he still pulled my pants down, laid me on my back and spread my legs, He tried to enter me. It was hurting so much. I pleaded him to stop. He found the condom, put it on and I just laid there with my legs spread. He was looking at my genitals, opening it with his hands and forced himself in me, hard &I screamed cried pleaded again to please stop.

My husband coerced me more than once. He raped me once and I still obey. I even give him a blow job because he wants it. When he pushes me down, I obey. I never had an orgasm again after that last orgasm. My husband is a good man. He was shocked when I told him that I felt raped by him. I told him that I said no. He replied: I thought it was a game. I thought you liked it this way. You should have hit me, beaten me, you should not just lie there. I thought you wanted it. Next time, slap me yeah right. I need to hit my husband, because he doesn't listen to me pleading no. So, where I am now? I am still married to T*, still an alcoholic. I start therapy soon. I totally collapsed a few days ago. I laid down in my own mess and I trembled, had spasms. I stopped drinking and I had withdrawal symptoms. I was sick, vomited and so on. I didn't care; lying naked on the floor, torn apart, spasms in my own vomit and no tears. If someone had found me like that I would be in a psychiatric hospital. Even while I write this I can't cry. I don't care anymore. I just don't care. I wonder if therapy will help me. I wonder if I have PTSD.I think I have borderline, but I haven't been diagnosed yet. I am 39 years old. It started at 17 and I feel like it hasn't ended yet.

	Anonymous' Story
	Who am I? That is a big question to me at this time of my life. I am just a woman of 39 that has trouble sleeping, a woman who drinks too much and a woman who loved them...and loves him still. I wonder if I will ever get in a better situation than this. I grew up in the most save environment of my country. I was protected by everybody. I was small, I have a disorder and I was naive, joyful and happy. My brother emotionally abused me, but I have forgiven him a long time ago and he is great. I can't wish for a better brother. But my home environment was perfect. I was happy; I had no worries until I went to high school. From day one, for a period of four years I was bullied. I was emotionally abused every single day. The teachers didn't act or protected me. I was always alone. I had no friends and none of them used my real name. I was a loner I studied well (so I was a nerd) and I had great grades. An student. But my self esteem was low, and hit the lowest point during that time. I was in love with a boy and they made me write a love letter. The letter I got back was filled with hate and death wishes. I was ugly, I was not worth being on this planet, I made him sick. He wanted to kill me not fuck me. That was it. I knew than that no man would ever want me. I died inside. I just let them emotionally abuse me. I didn't care. I was the lowest living creature on earth. I left that school to go and try it somewhere else. I had low grades and I failed miserably. But at least they were nice to me. They were friendly. no friends but I liked it. Felt a bit better. I was 17 around that time and I went out for the first time in my life. My Mom and Dad kept me home as long as possible. With this really low self esteem I went out and I was disappointed by boys who wanted to kiss me and than say how ugly I was. I was always alone. Sitting at the bar drinking my coca cola a 30 something man approached me. He was nice, introduced himself and made me feel good about myself. He was nice,.tender and thenn kissed me gently. Let me call him H. Of course H wanted to date me. Well, the 17 year old ugly girl didn't know what happened to her. That same evening, he wanted to get some fresh air: If I would like to join him. Of course I would love to join him. He pulled me in a dark niche of a wall and started to kiss me, pushing his tongue in my mouth. I replied, although I had no idea what I was doing. His hands began to touch my breasts over my clothes. That should have been a warning signal, but I let him. He began to put his hands in my shirt, squeezing my breasts. His posture changed he got more dominant. He forced his hand in my pants and started fingering me. I had no idea what was happening, but somehow my body reacted. I got wet and he loved it. He went down on his knees, unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down. I looked up to the stars, ashamed and scared. I didn't know what to say, but this was not something I wanted to do. He began to perform oral sex on me, pushing his tongue in my vagina. I felt so dirty at the time. I felt like dying. I could not look at him, but I did. He looked at me and made me watch him licking me down there. His eyes...he had changed into a dominant bastard. He came up and forced his tongue in my mouth hard. Than he opened his pants took my hand and began to teach me how to do a hand job. I felt a penis for the first time. Than he took his penis out and made me look at it. He laughed so scary. I wanted to run, but my legs could not move. I began to tremble and he put his hands on my shoulder. I did it to you, do it to me H* said. He pushed me down and forced his penis in my mouth. I did say "No I never done that" but it was to late. I had to do what he was telling me to do and he came in my mouth. I wanted to spit it out, but he made me swallow his "gift". Instead of never seeing him again, I kept dating him for two months and he forced me to give him blow jobs. He taught me how to drink. I was more willing to do it. The fact that I vomited afterwards was not his problem. He broke up, I cried. Why? I don't know. I hated him raping me over and over again. But I didn't realize at that time that it was rape. I was prudish. I just had to lighten up. H* enjoyed that submissive girl that followed his orders. The drinking went on. I am an alcoholic and I try so hard to stop drinking. But you think that this was it. No my story isn't finished at this point. I was almost raped by three men. They were nice to me, I thought they were friends. They forced me on the ground, starting to pull my shirt up, and to squeeze my breasts. They began to pull my pants down. I kicked my legs screamed stop and tried to fight of those six hands. They began to squeeze my genitals and it was humiliating. If I hadn't had my period they would have raped me. But they stopped, leaving me lying half naked between the leaves. I cleaned up, got dressed and went home to drink. Later that day I fucked with someone. I have no idea who it was. I was too drunk. The diabolic relationship started later on. P* was manipulative. He abused me mentally and physically. If he wanted to fuck I was there for him. He was a beautiful looking man. Face of an angel, gentle smile. Loved by many girls. He would fuck me after he closed the bar. He would call me to him and I would obey. He did everything and I had to make him come. He didn't care if I came. He would kiss other women and flirt with them while I watched; He would look at me and make fun of me, telling everybody how ugly my body was. P* even fucked another woman while I was in the same room, feeling their bodies against mine hearing them laugh over me, I felt so humiliated. Later that night he wanted to come and he ordered me to give him a hand job while he fingered me. I was dry, it was hurting. I had tears in my eyes and he just kept on doing because he wanted an orgasm. I had to simulate that I liked it, so I started to fake. My low self esteem hit rock bottom and I tried to cut my wrist (with a blunt object). I only had scratches when some one entered and she shook me awake. She grabbed my shoulders and wondered why I was so stupid to let this guy treat me like that. I stopped seeing him and met my husband. I was smoking pot and drinking heavily at that time. I was willing and fucked anyone for free pot and booze. Instead of hating sex I became promiscuous: Anything for free joints and booze. Hand jobs, blow jobs. They put fingers and other objects in my vagina and I would let them go down on me. My bf T* was not any better. He loved that I was so sexual active and I gave him all he wanted. T* said what he wanted and I obeyed. Throughout our marriage it stayed the same. But after a few weeks dating my bf (now husband) I met P* again. He was, again, nice to me. But he didn't like the bar we were at: If I wanted to join him and go to this other place. I said okay. He took the d-tour. We started kissing and he pulled me in a dark little forest. I replied. I had one condom with me, because I wanted to make love to my bf that weekend. He started to finger me and I said; "stop, this is wrong please P* No", he still pulled my pants down, laid me on my back and spread my legs, He tried to enter me. It was hurting so much. I pleaded him to stop. He found the condom, put it on and I just laid there with my legs spread. He was looking at my genitals, opening it with his hands and forced himself in me, hard &I screamed cried pleaded again to please stop. "SSSSSHHHHHH, shut up!" he said and he put his hand over my mouth. He started to rape me, with hard and violent movements he pushed so hard. But my body betrayed me. I had an orgasm. He loved it, knew that I enjoyed it sooo much and he stared to fuck me harder, than came more violently. All the time he was in me he never looked at me. He looked down to see what he was doing. After he was done he helped me get dressed and comforted me, saying that this was normal, that women always cried when they had such a great orgasm, that it was great. I sat on the ground, trembling, bleeding. I was in shock, He took me to that bar and gave me something to drink I was sore, my panties were dirty of the blood that was coming out of my vagina and I drank with him in the bar. I never told anyone the truth. My husband coerced me more than once. He raped me once and I still obey. I even give him a blow job because he wants it. When he pushes me down, I obey. I never had an orgasm again after that last orgasm. My husband is a good man. He was shocked when I told him that I felt raped by him. I told him that I said no. He replied: I thought it was a game. I thought you liked it this way. You should have hit me, beaten me, you should not just lie there. I thought you wanted it. Next time, slap me yeah right. I need to hit my husband, because he doesn't listen to me pleading no. So, where I am now? I am still married to T, still an alcoholic. I start therapy soon. I totally collapsed a few days ago. I laid down in my own mess and I trembled, had spasms. I stopped drinking and I had withdrawal symptoms. I was sick, vomited and so on. I didn't care; lying naked on the floor, torn apart, spasms in my own vomit and no tears. If someone had found me like that I would be in a psychiatric hospital. Even while I write this I can't cry. I don't care anymore. I just don't care. I wonder if therapy will help me. I wonder if I have PTSD.I think I have borderline, but I haven't been diagnosed yet. I am 39 years old. It started at 17 and I feel like it hasn't ended yet. BACK TO STORY LIST*
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