This is Part 2 of this story of rape. Grindr hookup that ruined the soul and body by Anonymous. If you missed Part one you can read it here
His behavior didn’t appear weird or odd enough for me to feel any certain type of way about it, and the pizza was still warm, so I ate it.
It was good pizza too. My family used to drive all the way out here to get this specific pizza for special occasions.
It’s fucked that I still think about him and this experience every time I have pizza.
Anyway, We grabbed a couple of slices and a bottle of wine and headed for the living room. He did have a huge flat screen TV and a big grey couch. The couch was surprisingly comfy. In my mind I remember that visually verifying these details meant everything was indeed real. He must be an alright guy. We chatted briefly about our day and then we moved into what type of movie we wanted to watch. To this day I cannot remember what we watched. I don’t know why I remember bits and pieces of scenes but have never been able to thread that needle since.
The movie had been on maybe ten minutes before he made a move. It was small and gentle, he just put his hand on my hand. I did not move it. I just looked at him and smiled. He moved closer to me on the couch and we embraced in a hug or cuddle like fashion. Then he told me that I was so cute and that he was glad I had come over.
He made a move
I told him I was glad that I had too because it seemed like we were going to have a really good night. We stayed like that for a minute or two watching the movie before he turned to kiss me. It was more aggressive than I had anticipated and I was caught off guard but still went with it as I had no real indication of anything that was going to follow.
We made out for a few minutes and then he started to unbutton my pants. I withdrew slightly into the corner of the couch and asked him if he was “willing to wait a bit more.”
Before I finished the sentence he lunged onto me he said “why wait?”
He was already over my body and trying to still make out with me when I realized that this was not going to be a tender experience. When I pulled away to stop and try to say something he had turned me over and pinned my arms down over the arm of the couch faster than I could react.
He grabbed the back of my neck with one hand and held me down straddled. Then with the other hand he grabbed onto my my cargo shorts in the back and pulled. Buttons popped and were lost as he ripped my shorts off leaving a rug-burn like sting. I had never felt particularly strong, but I had never felt this frail and small. Like a prey species in the presence of a tiger whose camouflage blended him with the reeds until he attacked.
He was a big guy by any account, probably 6’5″ and as his body pressed against me, I felt the powerful muscles, strong musculature of someone who had fought and rarely lost this battle.
I remember feeling helpless, out of options, part of me that I will always be ashamed of gave in, I was sure any effort to repel him physically would be met with a show of force.
I still lasted about ten minutes before I gave up fighting entirely.
He never once lifted both his arms from my back, neck, or shoulders.
He had me pinned down the whole time. And telling me what a “good boy” I was.
I remember going between staring at the clock on the wall and his dog on the chair. The dog who should have snarled and defended me. Just watched as I was raped and screamed.
He used spit and no lubrication the whole time.
I thought the initial tearing, the feeling of being stabbed in my ass with a piece of broken glass would pass and it would end soon.
But five minutes later, I felt him push the head of his cock further into me, and the pain was worse than the initial penetration.
I know I was screaming, begging him to stop… But he just put his one hand over my mouth and said to be “a good boy.”
I was grunting and completely sobbing throughout the entire ordeal.
But, the one indignity I will never forget, was the simultaneous revulsion and embarrassment as I came in a series of four involuntarily orgasms I had.
Every time I came he laughed cruelly, telling me it proved “how much I loved and needed this. ”
“I knew you’d like it because you’re a good boy.”
When he was about to come he announced it, twice actually.
Once about a minute before and then again right as he came.
He loudly announced every time he was about to cum
He announced it, yelled it, in tone one usually reserves for your cheering on your favorite team as they scored a goal.
And he was scoring as he yelled “I’m going to cum.”
And then he reared up into a more animal like position and said “I’m going to give you my seed boy.”
As he orgasm-ed he shoved his cock as far inside me as he possibly could. Three different times completely in and out as hard as he could. I remember hearing my back crack the last time his torso and my backside came together.
He grunted heavily on the last spurt then laid down on top of me. For the next few minutes, his cock remained inside of me, pulsating and finally deflating in my colon, going from hard to soft.
I will never forget the weight of his body on top of mine. I felt like I was going to die or suffocate. Yet I I just laid there and took shallow breaths feeling him inside of me until he removed his member and slowly lifted off of me.
The whole time he would pull out, making an embarrassing popping sound and lifting himself up, only to pound me again, all while his hand held his whole body weight pressed on my neck.
I thought for sure he was going to snap it until I heard his feet hit the ground and felt the pressure lighten as he removed his hand.
I laid there over the couch arm like I had been for the last 30 minutes or so. The dog looked at me as he had been looking at me the whole time. Like nothing had happened.
The first words out of his mouth were “You’re ass was perfect.”
He was cleaning himself and offering more wine – “to get ready for second round”
He reached for a towel that was waiting behind the couch, preemptively just as the pizza had been. Then he rubbed the spit, cum, and anal juice off his penis. The second thing out of his mouth was “Do you want some more wine? You might need it for the second round.”
He said this as he made his way to the bathroom to take a piss. The bathroom was across a hallway from the living room. Even though I had already been raped something inside me clicked.
That fight or flight instinct I’d heard about all my life.
I jumped out of the hunched over position I had been in for the last forty minutes. Quickly grabbed my busted shorts and my shirt. I was dressed and almost had my shoes tied on by the time he had finished pissing.
My escape worked
As he came through the doorway from the hallway bathroom to the living room he saw that I was dressed and standing. He instantly asked me what I was doing and why I was leaving. I told him because I was no longer having a good time and that he should have stopped when I asked. While walking towards me quickly he tried to say something along the lines of “I thought that is how you guys like it” but I was already running towards the front door.
I got into my car and locked the doors as he approached and pounded on the window telling me to go back inside, that we weren’t done.
I took off out of his driveway and never looked back.
In truth it was the only bad experience I ever had on that app besides the endless and pointless conversations with the people you end up never meeting.
I wasn’t myself for a long time. Didn’t go out, I didn’t focus on my writing or my hobbies, and I certainly didn’t use the app for months after that. I fell into a deep depression and withdrew into myself. No, I did not seek legal action or help as I was too embarrassed and still in shock.
Luckily I did have the wherewithal to immediately go get tested for STDs. He hadn’t used a condom and the testing was weekly and free at the Health Department in my area. Eventually I told two good firends and began seeing a therapist. My friends gave me a lot of support and ways to cope, as well did my psychiatrist at the time.
Mentally it took me a while to be able to talk to anyone over an online app again. And when I did I had to try and not think the worst of them or have trust issues. I stopped using them completely for a long time. However it’s the way of the world so inevitably I found myself back on them. To this day my sense of sensuality has been damaged beyond repair.
My interest in sex substantially lower.
Masturbation became my primary sexual outlet for a while.
I will never bottom again, not only because of the mental trigger but because of the small lasting fissure that always leads to pain after intercourse. I’d say it was a good three years before my libido was back to a normal, if it’ll ever be normal again. I wasn’t fully back to myself until I met my current partner and relearned what love and sex is, slowly but surely, together.
The most brutal and enduring souvenir of that day in addition to the incredibly painful anal fissure are hemorrhoids. I could not go to the bathroom without excruciating pain afterwards. It persisted so I eventually went to the doctor. That is when I was informed on the injuries I had sustained from the lack of lubrication, intense force, and long lasting duration of the event.
If the mental anguish and repetitive memories weren’t enough, the physical pain would drive it all home.
Someone not using any proper precautions, someone not using any lubrication, someone using extreme force, and someone violating your body’s will.
Trying to be positive
I often thought when I was trying to be positive, that I was lucky that was all that happened to me that night. I was in constant extreme pain in my anus and my groin areas for about three weeks. Going to the bathroom, number one or two, was painful and uncomfortable for months.
And it is still is, whenever the hemorrhoids resurface every two or three weeks if I miss my stool softener or daily dose of Activia.
Even now the pain instantly evokes the feeling that he is still in me, on me, and around me.
I was and am constantly reminded on the daily by things small and large that I have been raped. And the physical damages continue hinder me from obtaining what I know my true sensuality should be and the pleasure I once experienced is akin to the feelings that amputees describe as ghost limbs.
I never ever thought in a million years that I would be raped. Yet alone that I would almost allow it to happen. Did I resist strongly enough? Could I stop him?
I had not one signal before entering his home that he had any intention of abusing my trust or my kindness. We messaged for almost 14 hours straight and I had such a good feeling about him that I drove 40 minutes to his house.
Words on the screen without real eye contact are nothing
You ask yourself who would drive 40 minutes to anywhere if they were not sure about the person they were going to meet. That’s the thing though I wasn’t unsure. From our interactions over Grindr and from what I could make of it he was a great guy who was primarily looking for the same thing I was. That is it though. That is the problem right there. Words on a screen are just words on a screen. And pictures are still images. You do not pick up on someone’s vibe. You do not pick up on their body language. And you cannot pick up on their energies or mannerisms.
You are precluded from your own instinctual aversion to menace.
Over an app you lose almost all the things about someone that might set your intuition off. Yes, I was blinded not only by my own desires but the way in which they were basically regurgitated back at me from that tiny screen.
How I fooled myself into believing I had an accurate sense of who this man was. I walked blindly into a situation that could have ended a lot worse.
That has ended a lot worse for many.
I haven’t been on Grindr, or any other social media dating or hookup app since.
Finding real love – not over Grindr
I was lucky to have found someone with whom I have a real love and years of not engaging with someone via this technology, I can see much more clearly how flawed and how desperate the interactions that take place vis-a-vis their coding, GPS, and algorithms skew how we interact.
As Donald Trump flailed in desperation in the last days of his presidency only a week ago, I remember seeing the snarling anger he reserved for the indignity of being silenced by Twitter, et. al. and as I watched normally placid friends and relatives swarm onto posts with feral aggressiveness, I wished that Twitter and Facebook would block all of us. Even if momentarily, I felt like the respite from these addictive digital panaceas was what we really needed to heal as a country.
Surely we need to get back into the habit of getting to know someone face to face.
Let’s get back into the habit of meeting people through individuals that are already in our lives.
Let’s go back to personal interaction!
I feel that we need to get back to a time when the anxiety and butterflies in your tummy you feel as you approach the hot guy who’s been smiling and undressing you with their eyes all night, are not feelings to be avoided but embraced, as they signify neural paths connecting and the spark igniting the cascade of conflicting feelings, that are happening to your entire body, not just the pleasure center of your frontal lobe.
To set the clock back to a time when all those feelings that surface that make it seem as if you’re incapable of crossing that divide from stranger, to perhaps acquaintance, possibly friendship and yes, even love.
Where that whole ritual of interaction that is part of our evolution and DNA feels just as natural, just as unsettling, and just as acceptable, as starting a conversation on Grindr with your picture of your dick.
I am glad that story finishes in a happy way. Rape victims never recover 100%. However, life goes on and we all need to support victims of this cruel abuse. Please feel free to comment. Have you experienced anything similar – be it after meeting on Grindr or any other way? Do you want to share your experience without having to show your face and your name?