WARNING: This content should not be viewed by children or those of a sensitive nature. (We will ALWAYS warn you of such content)
I fervently wish we lived in a world where stories like this did not exist and every child was safe.
What follows is the harrowing account of a boy who was abused by a convicted female sex-offender. This article was kindly sent in by HeForeverBleeds and is a brief overview of the literal years of horrifying abuse, rape, and torture inflicted on him by his own mother and her friends as a child. It refers to explicit, graphic, sex acts that he and other boys were forced, brutally, to preform against their will. What was done to him is incredibly depressing, depraved, nauseating, and disgusting and made me feel so ill that I am loathe to even publish it. In fact, I acknowledge that doing so is a huge risk for the site and may put people off reading us.
But these kinds of accounts need to be seen and read. The abuse of boys and men is not just invisible – it is ignored. And that needs to change. For that reason it is incredibly important that the life stories of male victims be recorded and read by as many people as possible.
For this article and others like it we have taken the extra step of hiding the most distressing parts using ‘hidden content’ buttons. You will not be forced to read about the rapes themselves unless you click on them. Like So:
[su_spoiler title=”Statement of Full Disclosure About Readability” style=”fancy”]Full Disclosure: I have fixed some very minor punctuation and grammar typos in this document to improve readability. I have also brought part of it to the top to use as an intro statement, and inserted additional sections sent to me separately where they seemed to fit best. This was all done for better readability and inclusion, and I have not altered the content of this story in any way – except to divide it up with headers.
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Please be kind in the comments. If you would like to tell your own story please get in touch via the forums, comments, or instant message.
Statement By The Victim
“I wrote all of this down one time and have posted it to a few difference places, mainly to spare myself having to go into detail about it over and over again. Even editing it for typos is agitating. So of course my life with my mother is not something I like to talk about, especially since many times in the past the outcome of opening up about it hasn’t been positive.”
The Abuse suffered By His Underage Father
“Between the ages of 5 and 12, I lived with a physically and sexually abusive mother. The thing is that she had already been convicted of sexual assault against a child for getting pregnant with a 13-year-old boy (my father) when she was 35. She spent 6 months in jail until they decided to let her out early because she was pregnant and they thought she should have a chance to give birth and be a mother outside of prison. This was some time ago, in 1991. She didn’t have to register as a sex offender, and there was no order for her to stay away from the victim. My father’s parents allowed him to live with my mother once she got out of jail. My dad–who was 14 at the time–thought he was in love with her, and she even convinced him to drop out of high school to take care of the baby (me) since she was the independent adult who worked for money.
My parents separated when I was 5 when my dad (who realized the “relationship” was wrong only a year or so after moving in, he later told me) made enough to live on his own. Despite my mother’s previous conviction, she was given full custody of me. Part of that could have been because my father was an 18-year-old high school drop-out and couldn’t provide for a child. Part of that could have been because she was my mother and the judge wanted young children to be with their mothers.”
The Victim’s Account of How Their Abuse Began (Warning: Graphic)
[su_spoiler title=”Extreme Content Warning – Click To Open” style=”fancy”]”The sexual abuse started when I was 8-years-old. I remember my mother inviting over some of her friends that day, she called me into the living room, and she started recording with her camera. It was one of her other friends there who first made me give her oral sex by sitting on my mouth and holding my nose, saying she wouldn’t let go until I did what she wanted me to. Sometimes my mother just masturbated while watching and would punish me if I didn’t do “a good job” pleasing her friends. Other times she would make me do it for her as well.
Throughout the time that I lived with her, she had a lot of different friends over. There were dozens if not hundreds of different women who my mother would bring over. I don’t know the exact number, but I’m pretty sure it was closer to hundreds than dozens. Some weeks my mother brought over / took me to some of the same women who I’d seen before–these tended to be the ones with boys of their own. And other weeks there were up to four who I’m pretty sure I’d never seen before and hadn’t seen since.
Usually with these kinds, there weren’t any other kids there. In some ways I hoped these were the kind who’d only tried something like this one time because they had the opportunity to, but who didn’t do it regularly like my mother and those friends who I saw often. In other ways, I don’t think it makes it better that the only reason they didn’t do it before or since was because they didn’t have the opportunity. I didn’t count but I did the math: an average of one or two different women a week for four years.”[/su_spoiler]
How The Abuse Happened (Warning: Extremely Graphic)
[su_spoiler title=”Extreme Content Warning – Click To Open” style=”fancy”]”At first it was all oral, where they would make videos of making me either give them oral sex or rim jobs or suck their breasts. (I’m really sorry for using such vulgar terms, but I really can’t think of any other way to describe it. It’s not like there’re really nice terms for something like this). If I didn’t do it right away or didn’t do it well, either my mother would torture me or threaten to, or sometimes they would just rub it on my face or mouth even if I didn’t actually open my mouth, which wasn’t any better, so usually I would just do it.
The first time any of them actually made me have intercourse I was 11-years-old. I remember them fondling me until I became erect enough, and one of them sat on it. Even after everything else they had already did, this part felt worse than anything. I felt so powerless and like I had no control. I never had any control over the things they did to me, but this was like they were taking away my control from my own body. There is still no worse feeling than having my body respond to something as disgusting as what they were doing without having any control over it.
After that, along with the oral things my mother and her friends would make me do, any time they were able to stimulate me into getting erect they would have intercourse with me. There was no ejaculation, because I didn’t start puberty until I was 15, but they kept trying to make me. They got some of the other boys to do it, and I think it gave them a sense of power if they could force a boy to orgasm. I really felt bad for the other boys, because they would cry afterwards, and as bad as it felt for me when my mother and her friends were able to make me have erections, I could only imagine how bad it would feel if I had ejaculated, too.”[/su_spoiler]
Reporting His Rape Did Nothing
“During the time that I was living with my mother, I reported to two adults at school about what was happening. The first person I told was my principal when I was 9-years-old. I told him about how some people had been making me lick them in places I didn’t want to. At first he was concerned, but when he asked me who it was and I told him it was my mother and her friends, he said it wad ridiculous to say a mother would do something like that. It didn’t help that he knew my mother and she always presented herself like a normal person. He didn’t know about her previous conviction since she was never on the registry there was no restriction for her to be at my school or around other kids and she never had to tell anyone. Basically he didn’t believe me.
The next person I told was even worse. When I was 11 I told one of my teachers about how my mother and her friends were making me have sex with them. This teacher told me that I couldn’t be forced because if I didn’t want to have sex with them I wouldn’t have gotten an erection and I would have just pushed them off if they tried to mount me. I tried to explain that I didn’t want to get erections and that they would pin me down and I couldn’t push them off, and that if I even struggled too much my mother would hurt me. I even had scars and bruises from when my mother would cut me or stab me or beat me, but the teacher wouldn’t even listen to it. I don’t know if she thought I was lying about the whole thing and was trying to discredit my claim or if she actually thought I was having sex with these women of my own freewill. Either way, I ended up feeling worse than before telling her.”
Even With Hard Evidence, The Police Did Not Care
“My mother finally died when I was 12. The police came into the house for her body, and in it found all the videos and photos that my mother and her friends had made of them abusing me. The worst part of all of this is that even though there were other women and other boys in the videos that they found, the police never opened an investigation to find these other people to arrest them or save the other kids. Maybe they didn’t see it as important enough to spend resources on it or didn’t see these women as real threats to society or for whatever reason. Either way, that injustice of the authorities having video evidence of this going on and not doing anything to stop it killed my faith in the CJS very early on.”
It Helps To Have support From Other Victims
“By this time, my father was in his 20’s and well enough to take care of me. I lived with him for a while and went to years of therapy sessions. It really helped that he had been abused by my mother as well, because he kind of understood what I was going through and he was a great source of emotional support. Now it’s been 15 years since my mother died, but I’ve never gotten over everything. I still hate to think that my mother’s friends might never have been brought to justice and could still be doing this to other children right now. I hate to think that those boys my mother’s friends had could still be suffering or dead and replaced by some other kids.”
Thoughts About Woman Who Abuse
“One of my therapists and even my dad always liked to tell me things like ‘remember they all knew each other’, ‘remember they were from a lot of different places’, but even still one can’t really not have trust issues after that. That’s hundreds of women in this one group / ring, but certainly not every woman like this in the world was a part of this group, so of course there are more out there with the same desire and who would act on it if they had the opportunity.
I think there are a lot more, especially since on the other side I’ve known a lot of people who were abused by women. And those hundreds of stories in the news this past decade or so of teachers, babysitters, mothers, daycare workers, and whatever other women are just the ones who end up in the CJS. I believe that’s a small minority
For the longest time I couldn’t look at a woman without wondering if she was like one of them, and concluding ‘she probably is’. Now I just think “‘maybe she is’, but I still can’t see them without wondering
Now I realize that they were all probably a part of some pedophile circle who met each other online or through some other connection. Most of my mother’s friends had sons of their own or other boys who they were looking after who would also be molested. I would see them when my mother brought me to her friends’ house, or sometimes her friends would bring them over to our house. The youngest I saw was about a toddler, and the oldest was probably in his mid-teens. My mother would always tell me that when I turned 15 she would kill me since then she and her friends would have no interest. I can never know how many kids these people actually killed, but fortunately my mother died before I was 15.”
Failing To Care About Male Victims Re-Victimises Them
“I can’t help but take it personally anytime I hear of a story of a child being abused by someone, and I hate more than anything when abusers get away with it, and that even if they get arrested they often get off easily. If my mother had gotten at least 16 years instead of 6 months for getting pregnant with my dad in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s really ironic that part of the reason she got off so easily is because she was a mother and they thought it’d be “in the best interest of the child” to be raised by his mother, even a convicted sexual predator.
There have been a lot of the typical ‘guys are always willing’ kind of responses, naturally more so if I mentioned my mother’s friends but not specifically her. The first time was when I was in school after my mother had died; my friends were talking about who was still a virgin, who already lost theirs, how did it happen, etc. When I told them I had already lost my virginity at 11 to one of my mother’s friends, they said it was ‘awesome’ that I’d already banged an older woman. When I told them it wasn’t, they asked what kind of guy would complain about getting laid.
Another time was in college when I was working on a project with a classmate. We were talking about psychology at first, but the conversation turned to sexual violence, and she began to go on this monologue about date rape, how guys needed to understand that it wasn’t okay to take advantage of drunk women, how terrible it felt for the women–apparently recently a friend of hers was almost date raped.
I told her that I knew not to assault people and that I knew how horrible it felt, and she said I couldn’t know because men didn’t have to fear sexual violence. I told her it wasn’t a gender issue and told her about how I had been raped by my mother’s friend at 11. And she just said that by that age, boys are just trying to get with women anyway, so they don’t fear being sexually abused by them.”
By Not Caring, We Perpetuate Abuse And Ruin Lives
“If I do mention my mother, like my principal there are a lot of people who can’t conceive of a mother, let alone a group of women, doing things like this. Usually they assume that it’s just ‘fantasies’, which interestingly combines both the cultural denial about female abusers as well as the stereotype that boys like / fantasize about being raped by women.
On the other hand, I’ve gotten a lot of support, as well, and overall I would say that it’s been helpful. Mostly I hope that other men and boys in similar situations to mine also open up about it, break the silence, and hopefully find people who they can reach out to.
As for me, things have gotten more manageable. Things were good when I was living with my dad, but he died too soon in a car accident, and for a while things felt pretty hopeless again. I still have anxiety, particularly PTSD and OCD, (though I don’t know how much is because of my mother. Because my dad also had some mental health issues, but then some of those might have been because of my mother, as well). I still sometimes feel uncomfortable around women who I don’t know, usually I feel threatened if a woman’s aggressive or really forward, and there are a lot of common sex acts that I can’t have without getting flashbacks, so I avoid sex altogether.
On the other hand, I do have some people now who I can trust, including some really great women. Of course I can take care of myself, and usually I’m really grateful to still be here.
Anyway, if you’ve gotten to this point, thank you for listening.”
What Men Are Human Have To Say
Thank you for reading through what has to have been our most personal and harrowing story to date. The abuse suffered here is something that beggars belief, but there is nothing to gain by hiding our heads in the sand. This young man was tortured sexually, physically, and mentally by several woman, and he is still rebuilding his life years after the fact.
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