Day 9 - Grab her by the pussy and other rape speak like hello
Background:
Whenever I think about how many people come in contact with their rapist after the incident and have to exchange niceties with them, I become physically ill. The fact that I later conceded the point that I had agreed to have sex with my rapist makes me want to rip my head off and puke down my own throat. Here's what happened. I was "talking" to this guy who offered me, um, cunnilingus, in exchange for "nothing." Holy shit! Who isn't down for that? I made sure I had the terms of the contract correct so as not to be fooled later. Only to have a fooling attempted later.
Before he got to my house I told him he didn't have to do what he had offered to do. When he got to my house and inquired about it, I repeated that he didn't have to do it. He shot back "but do you want it?" Before I gave my answer I was like, "well, what would I have to do?" He told me in a reassuring voice that I wouldn't have to do anything. Really? Ok, cool! So, he proceeds to provide the service he had offered, free of charge, and it ended up being terrible. So terrible that I had to fake an orgasm so that I could get him to stop and go to sleep. Look, it was like 4 am and I had to work. I had no time to hope that he would eventually figure it out and give me a real orgasm. So, after that unfortunate event, I look up and see him off to the side of the foot of the bed putting a condom on the smallest penis I have ever had the misfortune to see. Now, I'm not sizist because I know big or small, no dude will make me happy with his wares. The problem was that we had just clarified the terms and conditions of the contract! So, I crablegged backward on the bed and screeched, what the fuck are you doing?! He was all like, well, we don't have to. I replied, um, I asked you what I would have to do for your services and you told me nothing! You said this not 10 minutes ago! He responded, "oh, well, there was a miscommunication is all. I was referring to giving me head." Huh. You gotta be real specific, people. Especially in the age of no consent. So, I managed to dodge that rape bullet, but barely. Since I managed to escape un-raped, by the skin of my teeth, by a guy I didn't really like, of course I ended up hanging with him a second time! This time I wasn't so lucky.
This time he offered head and I was like "eh, I'm good. I haven't even shaved." This was done intentionally on my part. No shaving = no dice, usually. But I was using the assumption that rape isn't usual. So, what I remember of this night was laying in bed talking and him repeatedly reaching into my panties to try to play with my vagina saying "tickle, tickle, prickle, prickle." At one point, I was honestly holding my panties to my vagina the same way I would clutch my firstborn to my bosom if Rumpelstiltskin came to collect. During a moment of relaxation he snatched my panties off and threw them across the room. I still wasn't really with it at this point. There was some back and forth before he decided the exact thing I needed was more of his useless licking. So, off he went. I laid there for a few minutes before doing my whole fake orgasm bit and he grabbed a condom. At this point, I felt so guilty and duped that I was going to have to have sex with someone who forced their cunnilingus on me, who wasn't good at it, and when I hadn't shaved. So, the guilt won out and I lay there as I let this guy have sex with me. To add insult to injury, this muthafucker wanted to do it doggy at one point, so there we were and he audaciously put his hand on the back of my head, mushing me into the bed, porn style. Um, I don't know who told men that women enjoy being smushed into the bed by the HEAD, unable to move, like a half dead cockroach, and that's the perfect move to bring pleasure to an already un-enjoyable activity, but they were fucking wrong. Ok, people? Get that through your fucking heads. So, now I'm all like, does this little dick nigga really think he's putting in "work"? Like, he thinks his sex skills are so awesome he is now King of the Jungle and should be praised?! Boy, bye. Finally, finally he's done with his shenanagins.
I talked to my best friend the next day and only then did I become aware that this constituted as rape; coercion is rape, people. If a muthafucker holds her panties to her body to prevent you from having contact with her vagina and you still go forth, that is rape. If a girl says no, but eventually says yes after your constant pestering, it is fucking rape!
Because I wasn't ready to have my whole sex life dissected and all that comes with rape, I was like, eh, whatever, mostly. But I was concerned about disease, as I always am. Also, I became totally convinced that he didn't use a condom, or had taken the condom off at some point, during the incident. I wear glasses so I can't see while sex is going on. Also, I can't hear very well during sex, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, I scoured all the trash in my home trying to find the used condom. After not being able to find it, I texted him like, "where the fuck did you put the condom, if you used one, you worthless muthafucker?" He came back like, "I can't believe you would think I'm trying to get you pregnant." I almost exploded. NIGGA! Being pregnant is the LEAST of my fucking worries. He said something that I can't remember and here's where it gets ugly. He said well, you could've said no. You have before. At that point, I reminded him that I did say and act "no", Mr. Tickle Tickle, Prickle Prickle. But, I, for some reason, didn't want him to feel guilty. So, I followed up with, "I'm not saying I didn't eventually agree..." Blah, blah, blah. That was pretty much a blatant lie, at that point. If by agree I meant, I went along to get along, then sure. Otherwise, what I did before all his handsy ways was pretty much the opposite of agree.
Anyway, now I'm at the club and I see him. Of course, he's there because he's a fucking nightlife photographer! So, he walks by without saying anything as I fully expected and appreciated because, as I mentioned before, if you're from the past, then you're dead to me. For some odd reason, though, as he was walking past another time (it was a pretty small club) he decided it was the prime time to exchange pleasantries, like hello, after not having spoken in over 2 years. I looked him in his eyes, with a look I have perfected, as if my eyes have just alighted on a stranger, then turned my head as if he weren't a very interesting stranger after all. He was a little shocked at my "rudeness", but didn't press the issue. Thank God. Even if rape wasn't a part of our history, dude, you didn't even check to see if I was ok after I was clearly panicked about an STD. If you knew that safe sex was important to me, it would be nice, as a recent sex partner, to follow up with me to make sure I, at least, hadn't had a fucking heart attack! So, that is that story.
The rest of the night included thoughts of a gold tooth fool who I can't even describe right now because I just spent so much time writing about The Photographer. Anyway, most of my night was devoted to dancing and singing along alternating with thoughts of The Narcoleptic. What the fuck? I don't want to have to choose again. I already chose! I had already chosen a person! It was hard enough getting him! Now I have to wade through the polluted waters hoping to find another fish with the least amount of Mercury? No! No, no, no! I don't like it.
Aside: Trump totally said, "grab them by the pussy" and apparently did just that, on tv! Isn't that illegal? What the fuck? This muthafucker just encouraged sexual assault! Ugh. I am disgusted and fatigued with life and the prospect of going forward choosing from a sea of fuckers who don't see a problem with "grabbing her by the pussy."
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