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Unreported, unresolved, when women abuse boys-the silent sufferers.

Allegedly, 46% of males who were raped report a female perpetrator

It was dark, heart beating fast, breaths quickening with each subsequent breath. The door creaked, shades of grey changed in the dark and floor boards creaked, he held his breath eyes wet, frozen in fear, tense, she slightly shut his eyes. Crawling shaking, less likely it would happen, edging up, up, it crawled no snaked higher, he knew every callus, every hang nail pricked, scraped, the bitterness crept up his throat and he wanted screamed needed-to she had to, the wetness, how gross, she was dampening, sore and dirty, nasty. Fear gripped him GOooooDDDD, Noooo!

Bleep, Bleep, bleep! He banged the damn alarm switch on his bedside lamp. Feverishly, sweating, eyes darting round the room, jumped up, head tensed and realized the sun was shining.

Thank God for he would’ve never been able to go back to sleep. His childhood had caused him post-traumatic stress disorder, he couldn’t claim it, couldn’t say her name, indifferent, cold aloof even…he had tried. Girl, girl, after girl, just couldn’t get it right. Denials, rationalizations and disgust, he had used them all. Either he had hurt them, or they just got tired of him. His friends called him a “gallis” a ladies man, the 'girls dem sugar' even. Either way abuse had stole his childhood and was damn near trying to steal his adulthood too. He got up went into the bathroom and sighed, back to the checklist. He had developed the list his final year in college.

This thing had started summer ’86, he experienced a growth spurt that summer and grew taller and leaner than all his friends. Some even started calling him “Thickerus” because of his size. He liked this whole new attention thing, in fact, he more than liked it, he loved it. His new physique had gained him a newfound respect and envy from the boys, plus many a cute smile from the girls. An all A student, Drew knew he was going to be rich someday. He was already sitting behind his driver and sleeping in a mansion at least in his mind.

It was that same summer, she asked him to come inside, she had mumbled she needed his height, oh she was wrong, she was so damn wrong. That old bitch was so wrong for what she did, she called him upstairs gave him food laced with Xanax he later learned and she had used him. She showed off her new video game and colored TV and she talked with him about his mom and girlfriend and he thought wow, this lady is really cool. He went to see her every day after that, it started innocently, she would kiss him on the cheek in parting, slap his ass or pinch it and she always gave him advice.

She had been his baby sitter when he was little and so he trusted her. One evening she kissed him but this time she pulled him in. She rubbed her crotch against him and grinded mercilessly. He sort of kind of knew this was off, she started licking him touching and he felt sensations he had never felt before. He was eleven years old and for the next three years she would ask him over almost every day. Most times it was her alone but after he turned twelve, she would have her friend with her. To this day he couldn’t explain why he kept going back. His therapist said he needed to live in the present, find a way to go beyond her.

He couldn’t think, a haze, some kind of fog, maybe a cloud was covering his brain, he couldn’t remember anything. She seduced him, performed fellatio and coached him into doing things to her. The memory made him hurl, he always did. He didn’t know it was really abuse, few years in and he would still tremble, he was fearful, anxious he even froze sometimes. He first realized it was really dirty sexual abuse when he told his friends at church about it. First, they all thought it was funny, after all a forty-odd year old woman was letting his adolescent ass have his way with her. His parries laughed, praised him for his sexual prowess but the more he described the more they all recognized and were all repulsed, sick. He was this woman’s sex slave.

For three years straight she had used him, age 11 to 14. By 13 years old, he had gotten tired, for she was pushing things in his orifices and would let him do the same to her and sometimes her friend too. Sexual abuse of all children is wrong, but no one accepts its punishable when women do it to boys too.

When he first told his teacher, she did not believe, she had him write out his story like an essay, just so it would be factual and in his words. Ms Robinson could not believe, she tried to keep her poker face but she was visibly appalled and kept making the sign of the cross. The perpetrator was his neighbor his baby sitter, since age five, she had been commissioned to care for him, then she never hurt him, he remembered one time she did have him sniff her pubes though…. Oh God, the memories! He could feel the bile, some days he was so angry. She had preyed on his young body, contorted his mind, and would physically abuse him on top of it. She would yell after her orgasms, “How many times must I tell you to go do your home-work?” it was as if as soon as she was done she got all motherly and back in baby sitter mode again.

She was really fun when she wanted to be, she would make him nice pastry, mix sweet carrot juice and take him on lovely trips and adventures. But the abuse was real, nasty and very real. At fourteen, he found an escape he had read in the popular Star Gazette, the local area newspaper that a wife had peppered her husband’s mistress private parts. He knew this was what he needed to do to the B... He had never told his sitter he hated yet sometimes loved her, he sighed.

His teacher had reported the whole incident but only to his mom who had told grandma, they both decided it was just a little sex, his grandma even inferred he is a man, he should take the p…. if he’s getting it. After a while he even thought it must be his fault; if it wasn't why didn't he stop it, why did he allow it to continue? Why was he doing it? He was afraid, afraid of her not even sure why. No one understood he thought to himself, some days when drinking and other vices did not suffice, he even considered suicide and so the abuse continued. The old heifer would scream out in ecstasy 'why you don’t want me anymore, you know you love it."

School had dismissed early and he knew she would be close by watching, waiting for him to show up, she would beat him if he didn’t. He had obsessed over the pepper story all day and had practiced how to keep some in his mouth. He was going to perform cunilingus and gently place the pepper in there. He ran, skipped all the way home for he had a plan and was ready to execute. Of course, when he got home, she had her friend Evaun with her. They took turns sucking on him and it made him feel good but he would feel like germs afterwards. He hated this feeling, this dirty secret situation; he made his mind up, he was going to do it today.

He strolled to the bathroom put his hand above the mirror and grabbed the little stash from its spot. Nervous but holding his composure, he returned to them, he waited till she lowered her bottom on his forehead, while her friend Evaun was down on him. He waited and waited adrenaline pumping, his heart racing, when it was his turn to go on top he dipped his fingers in the pepper and started caressing and playing with her and the friend. He never ever touched the friend much she especially was loving it, she was squirming. Ms. Shirley was her name and she squealed with delight “you’re a big man now, exploring touching, I like.” Her eyes widened as she felt the warmth, the sitter, the lady who loved to touch his bottom, just for her he had made the pepper into a paste especially. Hmmmm...he almost laughed out, for a second she was loving it ,he was rubbing it in. As soon as he saw her eyes water, he knew and she knew. Quickly he told them he needed to pee, he had already left extra clothes outside and he hurried towards the bathroom, scampered to the back door; not Bolt not Gatlin could catch him, finally he had done something, their agonizing screams rang out in his ear, all a part of this regular nightmare...

Drew went on to become a top surgeon and the abuse had ended then, but the nightmares were annual and he never ever told anyone. It had been ten years since he had seen his abuser, and here she was staring him in the face….ty.

On To You

Female on male abuse is rarely reported and even less is the probability of the perpetrator being prosecuted. Report any abuse to authorities. Please share your thoughts and leave us a comment.

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