My Survivor story
My story
It has been six and a half years, but writing of my story still brings some emotion. Some of my story are specific memories captured in a moment. Parts of my written story I have revised in telling as a grew more up more and matured, parts are direct quoted from my writings from when I was 19 seeking help and justice against my abuser. I use the term "spanking and assault" interchangeably, assault being used more in my revised writings as a more informed adult that what was happening to me is better encased by the term assault than just spanking. This a condensed version of my story, of some of my most vivid memories/experiences
I started college in 2012, at the age of 19 and I met a boy when I was working as a lifeguard, very attractive, I swooned, he swept me off my feet. We started seeing each other. I had never had a real relationship in high school, I didn’t know what it was supposed to be like, I was naive. He asked if I ever thought he would be able to spank me. I thought of just a sexy love tap. The first time he did it he held me down, took of my clothes, and beat my backside till I had deep tissue wound bruises. Painful bruises that made it hard to sit or stand, bruises that were so painful, humiliating, demeaning, but also hidden from plain sight. These bruises could last for weeks at a time. It became his way of punishing me for anything he could find wrong with me. If I didn’t eat enough, if I drank with out him, if I was late to class, he would get angry if I texted him too early even if it was just by an hour, or if I texted him or called him at the wrong time. He had control of my life. He would beat my backside when I had broken a rule of his, or he felt like I just needed to be punished. He would threaten me with just mentioning of beating me if he felt I was getting out of line of his control. He knew he could scare me into doing what every he wanted. He said multiple times he liked the color of my bruised ass. One of the worst times he had ever spanked me, I remember I hit my bed so hard I got a bloody nose, and I was crying and he didn’t stop until he said “my ass was bleeding”. I was terrified it was like I could feel all of his anger into my body. My mind dulled out the details of every individual time he beat me. When he beat me I use to just put my mind somewhere else to deal with the pain, the humiliation, because if I fought back it could make him angrier or make him hit me harder. I told him I didn’t like being spanked/beaten, that it had to stop, which made him angry.
"Dammnit girl, you need to get some respect. you’re such a pushover. You need to do something.” (my abuser)
He told me we were going to a Halloween party, I was supposed to wear this super revealing dress and thong. It wasn’t a Halloween party, him and his friend picked me up and brought me back to the friends apartment. We started drinking. And they were saying things about me and too handsy with me. My abuser decided he wanted to spank me, he also tried to “face fuck” me. I tried to run away, he grabbed me so hard there was a bruise mark of a hand on my arm. He flipped me over, took off my underwear and pulled up my dress and proceeded to assault me, then he passed me off to his friend and had his friend hit me. They didn’t stop till I had a panic attack them then they threw me on the floor, and laughed at me, as I panicked.
“oh my fucking god! Dammnit girl you’re going to get it now! Your sweet ass is mine!" (my abuser)
I remember once I was sitting on the edge of my bed frame when he was behind me and showed me that he had a white wood paddle, and I said that was going to hurt and he wasn’t going to do that to me right now was he? He said if he ever found out I was drinking again without telling him he would beat my ass with that paddle. I was afraid, very afraid. The next day he texted me “he had thought about it and he was going to allow me to miss one more Anthropology class this semester before he would beat my ass with that paddle, and he would know because he was going to be waiting on the steps of (my class room building) every day for me before class, and the days he didn’t have class (Tuesdays and Thursdays) I was to text him at 8:45 or else he would assume I had over slept, and he would know if I was lying because he had a friend in that class.” When I accidentally slept through my anthropology class the next day I woke up to text messages of “Well where are you?” “I don’t see you” “I’m waiting” “guess you just slept through your safety net, and on the first day too. What a shame.”
I remember we were heavily making out once when I giggled and he got really angry. Like a flip of a switch, I saw the light leave his eyes, his voice changed and his face became like stone. I remember I was on top of him and he had his hand above me shaking trying not to hit me, I closed my eyes waiting for him to smack me hard. He was breathing deeply so I started trying to rub his face to calm him down and said weakly “you’re okay.” And he screamed at me “STOP IT.” I was taken aback and terrified, when he was angry he couldn’t control him self. It was always like walking on egg shells, I had to say the right things, do the right things to not set him off, always do and say what makes my abuser happy. “you have no reason to be afraid of me.” He said “I’ve got a deal of you.” I said “okay” he said “I can hear the fear in your voice Mary, you don’t have to be afraid of me, I genuinely care about you.” I said “okay.” He said “I can still hear the fear in your voice, Mary. But I’ll make you a deal, I’ll never spank you for anything to do with school, but if I find out you’re drinking with out telling me, so help me god. And I don’t understand why you have such a problem with spanking, this college Mary, everyone does it.”
The last time he ever assaulted me was about a microwave. The guys in my dorm were jerks and always stole my microwave as a joke. I remember the light leaving his eyes when he saw they took it. I went to go get it back and he followed me, the dorm boys said I had to give them back a textbook I borrowed first, when I came back they had locked their door. My abuser punched the door hard, I coward down thinking he’d hit me. They opened the door gave me the microwave and I was between him and the Boys. He told me he wanted to kill them. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, I didn’t want him to hurt those boys. He took me out to his car (he had a mattress in the back of the car) he told me it might just make him feel better to spank me. Tears rolled down my face. I took it so he wouldn’t hurt those boys. He brought out a pair of handcuffs, first he handcuffed them in front of me and I said to myself I can get out, so he handcuffed me from behind, and preceded to beat me. I thought of flowers in a field to get through the pain. I cried out that I was sorry over and over again, he yelled are you going to get a backbone now? I said yes so he would stop. When he was done. He took the handcuffs off, said “I’m sorry for the way I am” and then proceeded to hit me with them. He was happy than and decided he wanted to give me a hickey, fine, whatever, I wanted keep him happy so he wouldn’t hurt me more or hurt anyone else. Always a life of say the right thing, do the right thing. Expect he held me down and wouldn’t stop. It was so painful. I turned my head away, and he snapped my head back and screamed move your head now. When he was done it looked like someone had strangled me. He branded me. He told me it was the last part of my punishment to show it, and if he came to my job the next day and it was covered up he would turn my ass that same color.
He was expelled from our university with 24 counts against him (5 of them sexual assault) all perpetrated towards me. On Valentine’s Day 2013 the university withdrew me because they thought he was going to kill me. The dean of students told me I had to leave. She told me I was not allowed to stay, made me sign my withdrawal papers. Basically they washed their hands of me, if he did kill me, they were not liable for it. A part of me knew I was going to die if I didn't get away. Through the support of my family, therapy, women's shelters for domestic violence, I was able to eventually free myself. Though I lived in fear of his return for many years afters.
This shortened version of my story creates a picture of the life I lived as a domestic violence victim. I still have some PTSD symptoms, and am still affected by my experiences. No one can hit my butt, these memories still sneak into my mind and into my nightmares. That man never got criminal charges (not through a lack of my trying), and my college career was severely interrupted.
It has been six and a half years, but writing of my story still brings some emotion. Some of my story are specific memories captured in a moment. Parts of my written story I have revised in telling as a grew more up more and matured, parts are direct quoted from my writings from when I was 19 seeking help and justice against my abuser. I use the term "spanking and assault" interchangeably, assault being used more in my revised writings as a more informed adult that what was happening to me is better encased by the term assault than just spanking. This a condensed version of my story, of some of my most vivid memories/experiences
.
I started college in 2012, at the age of 19 and I met a boy when I was working as a lifeguard, very attractive, I swooned, he swept me off my feet. We started seeing each other. I had never had a real relationship in high school, I didn’t know what it was supposed to be like, I was naive. He asked if I ever thought he would be able to spank me. I thought of just a sexy love tap. The first time he did it he held me down, took of my clothes, and beat my backside till I had deep tissue wound bruises. Painful bruises that made it hard to sit or stand, bruises that were so painful, humiliating, demeaning, but also hidden from plain sight. These bruises could last for weeks at a time. It became his way of punishing me for anything he could find wrong with me. If I didn’t eat enough, if I drank with out him, if I was late to class, he would get angry if I texted him too early even if it was just by an hour, or if I texted him or called him at the wrong time. He had control of my life. He would beat my backside when I had broken a rule of his, or he felt like I just needed to be punished. He would threaten me with just mentioning of beating me if he felt I was getting out of line of his control. He knew he could scare me into doing what every he wanted. He said multiple times he liked the color of my bruised ass. One of the worst times he had ever spanked me, I remember I hit my bed so hard I got a bloody nose, and I was crying and he didn’t stop until he said “my ass was bleeding”. I was terrified it was like I could feel all of his anger into my body. My mind dulled out the details of every individual time he beat me. When he beat me I use to just put my mind somewhere else to deal with the pain, the humiliation, because if I fought back it could make him angrier or make him hit me harder. I told him I didn’t like being spanked/beaten, that it had to stop, which made him angry.
"Dammnit girl, you need to get some respect. you’re such a pushover. You need to do something.” (my abuser)
He told me we were going to a Halloween party, I was supposed to wear this super revealing dress and thong. It wasn’t a Halloween party, him and his friend picked me up and brought me back to the friends apartment. We started drinking. And they were saying things about me and too handsy with me. My abuser decided he wanted to spank me, he also tried to “face fuck” me. I tried to run away, he grabbed me so hard there was a bruise mark of a hand on my arm. He flipped me over, took off my underwear and pulled up my dress and proceeded to assault me, then he passed me off to his friend and had his friend hit me. They didn’t stop till I had a panic attack them then they threw me on the floor, and laughed at me, as I panicked.
“oh my fucking god! Dammnit girl you’re going to get it now! Your sweet ass is mine!" (my abuser)
I remember once I was sitting on the edge of my bed frame when he was behind me and showed me that he had a white wood paddle, and I said that was going to hurt and he wasn’t going to do that to me right now was he? He said if he ever found out I was drinking again without telling him he would beat my ass with that paddle. I was afraid, very afraid. The next day he texted me “he had thought about it and he was going to allow me to miss one more Anthropology class this semester before he would beat my ass with that paddle, and he would know because he was going to be waiting on the steps of (my class room building) every day for me before class, and the days he didn’t have class (Tuesdays and Thursdays) I was to text him at 8:45 or else he would assume I had over slept, and he would know if I was lying because he had a friend in that class.” When I accidentally slept through my anthropology class the next day I woke up to text messages of “Well where are you?” “I don’t see you” “I’m waiting” “guess you just slept through your safety net, and on the first day too. What a shame.”
I remember we were heavily making out once when I giggled and he got really angry. Like a flip of a switch, I saw the light leave his eyes, his voice changed and his face became like stone. I remember I was on top of him and he had his hand above me shaking trying not to hit me, I closed my eyes waiting for him to smack me hard. He was breathing deeply so I started trying to rub his face to calm him down and said weakly “you’re okay.” And he screamed at me “STOP IT.” I was taken aback and terrified, when he was angry he couldn’t control him self. It was always like walking on egg shells, I had to say the right things, do the right things to not set him off, always do and say what makes my abuser happy. “you have no reason to be afraid of me.” He said “I’ve got a deal of you.” I said “okay” he said “I can hear the fear in your voice Mary, you don’t have to be afraid of me, I genuinely care about you.” I said “okay.” He said “I can still hear the fear in your voice, Mary. But I’ll make you a deal, I’ll never spank you for anything to do with school, but if I find out you’re drinking with out telling me, so help me god. And I don’t understand why you have such a problem with spanking, this college Mary, everyone does it.”
The last time he ever assaulted me was about a microwave. The guys in my dorm were jerks and always stole my microwave as a joke. I remember the light leaving his eyes when he saw they took it. I went to go get it back and he followed me, the dorm boys said I had to give them back a textbook I borrowed first, when I came back they had locked their door. My abuser punched the door hard, I coward down thinking he’d hit me. They opened the door gave me the microwave and I was between him and the Boys. He told me he wanted to kill them. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, I didn’t want him to hurt those boys. He took me out to his car (he had a mattress in the back of the car) he told me it might just make him feel better to spank me. Tears rolled down my face. I took it so he wouldn’t hurt those boys. He brought out a pair of handcuffs, first he handcuffed them in front of me and I said to myself I can get out, so he handcuffed me from behind, and preceded to beat me. I thought of flowers in a field to get through the pain. I cried out that I was sorry over and over again, he yelled are you going to get a backbone now? I said yes so he would stop. When he was done. He took the handcuffs off, said “I’m sorry for the way I am” and then proceeded to hit me with them. He was happy than and decided he wanted to give me a hickey, fine, whatever, I wanted keep him happy so he wouldn’t hurt me more or hurt anyone else. Always a life of say the right thing, do the right thing. Expect he held me down and wouldn’t stop. It was so painful. I turned my head away, and he snapped my head back and screamed move your head now. When he was done it looked like someone had strangled me. He branded me. He told me it was the last part of my punishment to show it, and if he came to my job the next day and it was covered up he would turn my ass that same color.He was expelled from our university with 24 counts against him (5 of them sexual assault) all perpetrated towards me. On Valentine’s Day 2013 the university withdrew me because they thought he was going to kill me. The dean of students told me I had to leave. She told me I was not allowed to stay, made me sign my withdrawal papers. Basically they washed their hands of me, if he did kill me, they were not liable for it. A part of me knew I was going to die if I didn't get away. Through the support of my family, therapy, women's shelters for domestic violence, I was able to eventually free myself. Though I lived in fear of his return for many years afters.
This shortened version of my story creates a picture of the life I lived as a domestic violence victim. I still have some PTSD symptoms, and am still affected by my experiences. No one can hit my butt, these memories still sneak into my mind and into my nightmares. That man never got criminal charges (not through a lack of my trying), and my college career was severely interrupted.
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