Ever since I wrote the post “A Little More About Rape” way back in 2015 (CLICK HERE) I have been bombarded by hate and accusations of fetishizing or advocating rape.

What these accusers fail to comprehend about articles like that is that they are public displays of the inner workings of my own mind on the subject. As the victim of a violent rape, I was left with many conflicting feelings about my experience. From those feelings arose an ever-solidifying viewpoint on rape from a Hierarchical perspective that I freely admit is not conventional and could be offensive. But I believe within it lies a fundamental truth.

That truth is this: rape is a Hierarchically-sound part of the sorting process among dominant and submissive males. Alphas sometimes rape faggots, and these acts reinforce proper and necessary roles between males. Mind you, that is not an advocation of rape. It is simply a Hierarchical explanation for rape as a natural process.

Why do I feel emboldened to say such a thing? Because ever since I wrote that article I have received countless letters from other faggots who have been raped who came to similar conclusions. While all of these messages and letters have been personally validating, I’m not sure I’ve ever received one that so powerfully explained how I felt during and after my own rape. It’s from a faggot named Sean, and the story he tells is both horrifying and inspirational. Read:

I felt compelled to write to you to weigh in on the complex and controversial topic of faggot rape. I understand you do not — and should not — promote rape. However I also wanted to share my personal insight as one who has endured rape and why I am ultimately thankful for the experience and to the Alpha who raped me.

First I should say I have had more than one experience with what most people would classify as rape, including my first sexual experience. I am 46 now and so back in the day, newspaper ads were a way to discreetly meet Men. I was a sophomore in college and I answered an ad from 2 Men (a couple) who wanted to fuck a bottom. I responded and told them I was a virgin which excited them. I was picked up and taken to their place. We relaxed and I sucked their dicks for a bit before one of them reached around from behind with a chemical smelling cloth and I was almost instantly knocked out. My belief is that I was chloroformed. When I came to, I was already being fucked by a large-dicked Man with my face pressed into the balls and “saddle” (sides and under the balls/taint) of the other. Quite a way to regain consciousness. I felt no pain. In fact it was highly pleasurable. I believe they did this as a favor to me for my first penetration to reduce my pain on entry. They wore condoms (relevant to the actual story I want to tell). They both fucked me and I was fully conscious for the remainder of the night. At one point one of the Men sucked me briefly, which horrified me. It felt so wrong and my dicklet instantly retreated.
It took me a while to understand how being knocked out and sodomized (some might say raped) by 2 Men felt fine and normal, but being sucked was a big violation. I hadn’t put the pieces together that I was a faggot. Until I met the next Man.

I had a few experiences in between, always bottom, always seeking more and more Dominant Men. So by 1997, the internet was widely available and like every “male” I instantly tried to use it for porn and meet-ups. It was my very first internet meet-up I’m here to discuss.

I found a profile for a really attractive, strong, masculine, large-framed and self-described Dom. He was a Baltimore County police officer, I learned. Older than me. I was 22 and he was about 40. He struck me instantly as different. Demanding I provide some times I’m available instead of the usual “games” back-and-forth or vagueness I was used to. He also DEMANDED that he pick me up, despite my offer and preference to meet him out or at his place. I realized later this was all about control, and perhaps, his plan.

He picked me up and I was so excited by how attractive and Manly he was. I felt so weak and small and shy! We chatted and went out to eat at a pizza place. He asked me what I liked from the menu and ordered for me, which was a powerful move in my mind at the time and I loved it. He commented that he’d fuck the waiter, which struck me as odd at the time considering we were on a “date.” Oh, how much I had to learn about Alphas and how he viewed me. He paid, which I liked.

After dinner there was no question we were going to his place. I was surely going to suck his cock, maybe get fucked, so I was sure to be cleaned out just in case. I had made it clear that I was open to getting fucked, but with a condom only. He didn’t agree or disagree to that or even really acknowledge my request. But I felt he would not do anything I didn’t consent to. I was wrong.

The Man wanted to fuck and I reminded him about the condom. At that point, the situation changed dramatically and an element of violence filled the room. His demeanor changed into an abuser and a predator and I was terrified. Before I could even try to make an exit I was pinned down in an impossible hold. I could not struggle away and had no use of my arms or legs. So me face down on his bed, he brutally and violently penetrated me. The pain was absolutely searing. I didn’t know what kind of damage was being done but I do know he didn’t care. At that moment, despite the situation, can you believe it came into my mind that I was glad I cleaned out well? Even at that moment I was thinking about his experience, something which I thought about a lot later. Something was happening to me. he was verbalizing and I remember mostly hearing the words “faggot, bitch and pregnant” but there was a lot more said, all deeply degrading.

In his final and very purposeful thrusts and ejaculation into me I was feeling glad this would be over and also like a chemical reaction feeling like something had changed in me forever. I had never been bred before and it was monumental to have his DNA inside me. I felt victimized but also desirable that he wanted to make me a part of him in that way. It was complicated.

So he finished and there was surprisingly little tearing and blood, but some. He got off me and we cleaned up and he was exactly normal. Not fazed at all that he has just raped me. Of course he still had to drive me home which was extremely humiliating, but also chivalrous? Again, complicated!
He said he wanted to see me again. Afraid, I said OK, but just wanted to get away with no intention to see him again. It was honestly a trauma. 

However, after the soreness subsided I started thinking about him again. I thought about how Dominant and controlling he was in every respect and about how small and insignificant I felt in his presence. Something was clicking. What was he calling me? Oh yeah. A faggot.

I ended up calling him again! 

A young fag answered, though and I retreated, despite the fag saying it’s fine and he doesn’t mind getting the Man to talk with me. I hung up, sort of thrown by somebody else answering and I did not contact him again.

Now, why am I thankful to this Man who committed this act against my innocent young self?

I’m thankful because I learned there are Men, and there are Alphas and they do not operate by the same rules. I hadn’t known that. I am thankful that he opened up my true self. He saw what I was before I even knew! He saw a faggot that was his to take since he had the planning and power to do so. Once the dust settled I knew I had an identity and a purpose. It suddenly all came together why in my first experience I was happy to be knocked out and fucked but not OK with some oral attention on myself. I was a faggot. He didn’t make me that way, but he opened my eyes and it changed everything. 

I’ve had similarly eye-opening experiences though not as monumental the first time a Man spit in my face and the first time a Man really slapped me. Spit because it’s the epitome of disrespect (“spit in the face of”…is a common phrase for the ultimate disrespect, usually figuratively, of course). But I liked it. And being slapped because of the wave of shock, humiliation and the true sense of being OWNED that washed over me and I do gravitate to Alphas with an abusive streak ever since (I did take in and mostly agree with your podcast about aftercare). But I do respect a Man that hits faggots.

I did live in fear that the rapist had given me a disease of course. Nothing flared up and before long I was off to an overseas life adventure where I had to be HIV tested. Thankfully, I was negative.

I don’t condone rape and I do believe in using condoms. But I am thankful and appreciative that I was seen for the REAL me. I’m not “proud” of being a faggot. That’s not the right word. But I so accept it and understand I have a purpose that I have been working on now for years.

I was truly rattled after reading this account. The account itself is devastating. But then reading how my brother Sean came to the same conclusion as I did regarding the rights of Men and the function of rape as Hierarchical reinforcement. There is something to this. Why do so many faggots have the same perspective I have about what happened to us? Are you simply all broken in the same way?

I admit that part of me remains unsettled after so long. I don’t think I should feel this way about my rape or the rape of other faggots. But then again, is it the pressure of societal views on rape causing this shame?

I just think somewhere in this mess of Hierarchical bumper cars the actual truth exists.

Thank you to my brother Sean for his bravery!

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