This may trigger, I guess? I'm usually pretty open with what happened to me, and until recently I thought I was over it. If one of my friends asked about it, I could tell them without getting upset, though I tend to avoid it as I realised it was just distressing to my friends. Just last week, though, it recropped in my dreams, and I just haven't managed to feel...okay since. Anyway, to what happened. He was my first boyfriend. I never thought of myself as pretty or desirable, so I was rather flattered that anyone was paying attention to me at all. He was from another town, but when he said his mother kicked him out... well, I came to my own mother in tears and she arranged for him to visit while he got things sorted out. He arrived and everything seemed okay, he was nice enough. Then he started getting a little demanding, but it was nothing special. Just "come and sit by me" and "hold my hand" kind of things. I hadn't been in a relationship before, and as far as I was concerned, his orders were fairly normal, right? Anyway. He took my first kiss, etc while we were walking. Again, nothing odd. After two days he asked me if we could 'do it' that night. I didn't want to disappoint him, but I shook my head and he dropped it. A few hours later, though, he asked again. And again. And again. Each time I felt worse and worse, like I was failing at some part of my end of the relationship. Common sense told me that feeling this way was stupid, but it was there. Well, it came to that night and when I had to walk past him to get to the toilet (he was sleeping on our sofa) he grabbed me on the way back. Sometimes I think I can remember what he tasted like, and how scratchy his stubble was. Anyway. He managed to coax me out of my clothing and take my virginity that night. This was....more or less concentual. I don't remember ever protesting, though I was unsure at the time whether I was ready or not. I had said no earlier in the day, but maybe I had changed my mind? I couldn't figure out my own feelings about this. Anyway, he left a day or two later, and when my parents found out...they weren't happy. I got the emergancy pill and tried to come to terms with what had happened. At the time I thought I still loved him- and we were keeping in contact via text message. A few weeks later he came back, and because he wasn't welcome at home, he went to stay with a friend. That day we were play-wrestling on the bed, and his hand went to my throat. I couldn't breathe, and I started panicking- but after he released me he told me it was an accident, and I guess I forgave him. It was easier than the alternative. That night we were sleeping on the floor, when he started touching me, trying to convince me to let him have sex with me again. I told him no, to which he said "but I've already given you some fun, what about mine?" I said no again and turned away, but he turned me back onto my back and continued anyway. I remember how heavy he was, and how sweaty his skin was on mine. I remember staring at the ceiling wishing, hoping it would be over. He eventually climbed off of me, but he wasn't done- he took me by the back of the head and- well, I guess you can imagine what he made me do to him then. In the morning I left, still shellshocked by what happened. Shortly after it happened he texted me, telling me it was over- so not only had he taken advantage of me, he was now dumping me. Again, too stunned to be emotional, I agreed and moved on. The friend he was staying with- one of my friends, not his- kicked him out shortly after, as he tried to come onto her. We both recieved aggressive and violent text messages for about a week after he left, claiming he would come back and kill us both. That's... my story, I guess. To this day I think I blame my own niavity at times for not seeing it coming. I had thought I had come to terms with it, but every time I go a few months without thinking of him, he reappears without warning, disrupting me for what could be a moment, up to weeks at a time.