I wrote this originally because an online friend I chatted with encouraged me to share my experiences online. My “origin” story wasn’t exactly rape, not to me, but it was rape adjacent. I was 19 when I wrote this, but growing up, my home was very high pressure. My parents were both self-made, from poor families, and through extremely hard work, had done very well. Not rich rich, but money was never an issue either. So, growing up, there had always been an expectation put on me. Not to try to succeed and do my best, but to succeed and be the best. My last B was in the 3rd grade and I got in trouble for it. I still remember being screamed at for it. I’ve had panic attacks over my grades. My mom was upset when I didn’t graduate at top of my class in high school. It wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough. Nothing I did was.

As you might imagine, that stress tore at me, and when I hit puberty, I found ways to release it. Masturbation was my primary release; sometimes so much that I was sore. It still wasn’t enough of an escape, and as I approached thirteen, I started playing online. It’s scary how easy it is to get attention online at that age in chat rooms. In those chat rooms, I found something that helped me escape more than anything else. Assholes and mean guys wanting to tear me apart. There were guys my age, older nice Daddies, and I liked the latter. But the mean men, they helped me escape. They wanted to rape, use, and abuse me. I don’t know why, but something clicked and I went from mostly weak orgasms to body-shaking ones as they told me how they wanted to hurt me. That I was trash, and that I was nothing to them.

In those cyber roleplays with men I shouldn’t have been talking to, I wasn’t a girl that cried in fear about a test that I “knew” I did bad on. I didn’t have to be perfect. These men didn’t want me to think. They didn’t care about me at all. I was a set of holes to them. And I found that intensely freeing. I could escape and for a bit, be free from it all. As I got older though, it wasn’t enough anymore. I had an unsatisfactory sexual experience with a boy a couple years older than me and it was “sex” but it was empty. It completely lacked the intensity that I got online. So, about halfway through 15, I did something stupid. Something I would end up doing again. I thought I was smart at the time. Looking back now, I’m fucking lucky how things turned out, but then, I thought I had all the bases covered. So, the great plan was this. Post on craigslist as a younger woman looking for an older man to use her roughly. The responses were quick, to say the least. However, I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble by lying to them. So, after wading through all the barely readable posts and cock pics, I narrowed it down to a handful that responded in terms that the men I liked to play with online did. I then, without explicitly stating my age (15), made it clear I was underage. Of that small handful, only one responded back, asking for picture proof, which I supplied. He gave me his address after we spoke on the phone, my heart hammering, and one weekend I got a ride out near him and then walked to his apartment. I didn’t even know what he looked like but I had told a friend I was gonna see someone (she didn’t know who or his age or anything) I had met online and told her what to do if something happened. Of course, if he had given me a fake address and ran off with me, that would have been useless, but at the time I wasn’t thinking clearly. I needed that online play for real and that was all I cared about. The stress was getting to me and I wanted to escape harder than I ever had before.