Tag Archives: rape culture

Jordan Peterson and Camille Paglia on rape

So much great stuff here.

Paglia theorizes that men’s sexuality is intimately connected with the hunter/hunted predator/prey instinct. How anyone can observe human, even pets, or read a book, a bodice ripper, watch a romance film, and not understand this is shocking. As Paglia has often complained, a lot of these academic types are simply ignorant outside of their own extremely narrow field. Paglia tends to take her ideas from the perspective of the entire sweep of human history, from caveman times until today.

Peterson points out that those who accept “PC” political correctness doctrine have specific psychological traits. One, typically women – it’s women that internalize PC doctrine. This isn’t a surprise. Second, men and women with stereotypically “feminine” personality traits tend to internalize PC doctrine. Also, not a surprise.

But third, women with personality disorders tend to internalize PC doctrine. So we are not talking about healthy, psychologically adjusted women, but women with personality defects, women with difficulties in interpersonal relationships with men and women, women who are highly neurotic, paranoid, etc.

Again, this isn’t really a surprise to anyone but it’s nice to see it spelled out.

Bang Gang: The Second Sexual Revolution: No Coloreds, No Fags, No Rape, No Jealousy

Revolution Next

By the 1990s, the AIDS scare was over and everyone realized that the plague was confined to male homosexuals, needle drugs, and Africans. The sexual chill of the 1980s was over: the popular culture of film and music had continued to get more and more explicit – some would say “degenerate” – even while people’s actual behavior had become puritanical. The social shift was centered around the mainstreaming of condoms. The official story was that teenagers were going to have sex anyway so they should use condoms to avoid AIDS and pregnancy.

While the first sexual revolution of the 1960s still had double standards and jealousy, the second sexual revolution had shifted. If everyone was promiscuous, then no one was a “slut.” Since no one was getting married or having children any time soon, teenage relationships were by nature temporary and among peers partners were swapped: Jane dated Billy for a while, then Jane hooked up with Billy’s friend Mike while Jane’s friend Sally started dating Billy. The timeline simply got shorter and the number of partners increased.

So it was only a matter of time until the timeline of the relationships got shorter and the partner swapping more immediate. High school parties where couples would disappear into a bedroom simply evolved into high school parties where more than one couple would be in the bedroom, or on the same bed. Or where there weren’t couples as much as groups.

The Rules

Still, there were some lines that were simply not crossed, at least in the 1990s middle to upper middle class Washington DC suburbs of the 1990s. The rules were essentially non-negotiable:

1. No coloreds. Maybe a half Korean girl would be in the mix occasionally, but like an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog, this was a very White affair. Washington DC, even in the 1990s, was most certainly a racially diverse area, but integrated schools had not led to integrated social circles, and rarely intimacy. All throughout the 1980s Black and White couples were lauded by the media (OJ & Nicole) and the United Colors of Bennetton had spent a decade trying to push a slightly less sexual version of the Abercrombie and Fitch orgy aesthetic, but to no avail.

2. No fags. Male homosexuality was simply not tolerated. This was an era when gays were “coming out of the closet” and TV shows like Friends made it clear that “homophobia” was uncool. Nevertheless, teenage boys, even if they talked the talk, were simply not going to walk the walk. They may not have been going around queer bashing but neither were they going to invited suspected gays, much less out gays, to their parties. And the occasional friend, suspected or known to be gay, that was invited to a social party were simply never invited to the after parties.

Of course “bi-curious” girls were not even considered “lesbian,” merely a form of exhibitionist foreplay.

3. No rape. This was the era of third wave feminism. It was not cool to do something to a girl who was passed out – that passed out girl was your friend. It simply was not considered manly and a rough form of “consent” was expected. Of course “peer pressure” wasn’t considered “coercion” and it would be another decade before concepts like “rape culture” would be popularized – quite possibly precisely because a decade or so of these attitudes created a backlash, and the teenage girls who organized these parties had to regain some plausible deniability.

4. No jealousy. Of course people did get jealous, but no one owned anyone and when people did pair off and form serious couples, they simply didn’t go to the parties anymore. This was in a sense, “sexual utopia in power” and F. Roger Devlin might say. Women – really, girls – were the organizers here. They decided which boys to invite and it was their consent that powered the whole culture.

The Style

The style was rave, baby doll dresses and neo-bohemian. The soundtrack was electronic dance music and alternative rock. The drugs were alcohol, marijuana, and MDMA. (LSD and mushrooms were quite often the initiation into the scene, but those aren’t party drugs.)

No one knew anything about “BDSM” or even what it meant, the blindfolds and bondage were simply party favors, a natural development. There was always a certain “switch” dynamic – both boys and girls could be the one being blindfolded and “worked,” but the few times when an actual male submissive would want some sort of humiliation play, it would skeeve the girls out; he would be labeled a “creep” and no longer invited to the parties.

The age to play? 16.

The Hangover

Of course, as always, standards began to slip after the first generation. LGBT became more militant. Consent became blurry. Jealousy, always present, became more pronounced as “experimentation” morphed into “lifestyle” and the window of opportunity to leave it all behind got smaller. It you’re in the scene from 16-26, you’ve had a decade of experience at temporary “relationships” and zero experience with keeping anything permanent. The color line started to blur, which ruined the entire concept of consent, as consent is a cultural norm, shared among those with the same race and culture. Little sisters were not rebelling against the sexual chill of the 1980s as their older sisters had done, thus had a “starting point” that was much further along than their older siblings.

The impact of internet pornography started to be felt. Before, the parties, the social scene, WAS the initiation – it WAS the porn. Once hard core internet pornography went mainstream, boys – and girls – already had expectations, and the expectations were no longer set by peers in their own social circles, but by professional pornographers and pimps from Los Angeles, always eager to “segment” a market in order to micro-market to fetishes with pin point accuracy.

There’s all the difference in the world between BEING the product, and watching a product being advertised.

The End

What finally killed it off was camera phones and social media. Rumors can be denied, video evidence broadcast instantly to thousands could not.

Toronto Film Review: ‘Bang Gang (A Modern Love Story)’

The Future

As the Unabomber Ted Kazinsky might say, technology affects everything and society gets further and further away from the natural order. Only an industrial society would postpone marriage and family formation long past a biologically appropriate age in order to spend the youth’s most productive years learning to run the machines and push the paperwork. Feeding the machine becomes more important that reproducing the race; the machines become more important than the biology. So society will go back and forth between repression and degeneracy as long as it suppresses biology.

The Onion: Teen Wastes Prime Childbearing Years Going To High School

http://www.theonion.com/article/teen-wastes-prime-childbearing-years-going-to-high-33891

Women don’t want their grievances fixed, you silly boys. They want them heard.

Women don’t want their grievances fixed, you silly boys. They want them heard.

http://takimag.com/article/thanks_for_nothing_bitches_kathy_shaidle/

I swear I’m not making this up.

My girlfriend at the time, a Hillary loving, NPR listening, hardcore “outside of the bedroom” feminist, stereotypical liberal – no, not one of those idealistic Bernie Sanders people, but a practical minded type that went with the mainstream of the Democratic party – she actually explained to me, way, way back in 2007, that tampons should be “free” – meaning, paid for collectively by the taxpayer, not individual women.

The logic apparently went something like this: women have periods but men don’t, and that’s not fair, so the government should pay for tampons.

I thought this was crazy, and like the clueless man that I am, I mansplained about how taxes work which just made her angrier that I didn’t get it.

She voted for Hillary in 2008 and hated the fact Obama won so much she actually did vote Green, but only because in New York it didn’t matter anyway.

Frankly I think she was kind of racist. She didn’t have any black friends and her great-grandfather was an actual SS officer back in the day.

As with many things, she was far ahead of her time. She was into the IRL “50 Shades of Gray” thing long before the book or the movie came out. And it wasn’t until recently that single payer period care became a serious political issue.

“Free [sic] Tampons Should Be a Human Right”

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/free-tampons-human-right_us_56deffbce4b03a40567a1e33

tender-submissives
One thing I’ll give her though: as a bona fide fashionista, always dressed to kill in dominatrix boots and crypto-fetish gear (the kind that you have to be “in the know” to get the subtle references – she could attend a Democratic party fundraiser in a little black dress and still find a way to accessorize with something faintly bondagey) …

… she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a “pussy hat.” Like, ever.

tampons-and-razors

Why They Hate 50 Shades Of Grey

Mr. Grey: “I could hold you to some impossibly high ideal, like Angel Clare, or I could debase you completely, like Alec d’Urberville.”

Anastasia: “Well, if there’s only two options, I take debasement.”

The film version of 50 Shades of Grey came out this weekend, and the media, online and off, is in full hate mode. Full disclosure: I’ve never read it. But my lady friend did, and her opinion was the typical one: poorly written and kind of goofy. I think she was upset it wasn’t really racy enough. For all of the brouhaha about the BDSM, apparently Mr. Grey didn’t even spank Ana all that much.

submissivewoman

On reddit’s conspiracy section, someone asked: why all this hate toward some silly romance novel? The hate and “controversy” over what amounts to “Wuthering Heights with spanking” is somewhat astounding. I realize some in the White Nationalist crowd get their klan robes in a bunch over anything sexual that isn’t married missionary position. Forget the queers and the sluts – even a husband tying up his wife is “degenerate” and caused by “jew porn” and yet another sign of the Total Collapse Of Western Society And Christendom. So, our friends over at the Daily Stormer have added BDSM to their long list of “degeneracy” along with the homos and sluts and miscegenators.

The manosphere types, especially the Christians, often mention that feminism has infected even the right wing conservatives and the Church. White men are “White Knights” – especially the older generation – and automatically cater to whatever women want, acting like “manginas.”

I would posit it’s all of a piece. Sure, traditional conservatives and Christians are not “feminist” in the cultural Marxist sense of the word; believing that women and men are separate “social classes” engaged in the “class struggle” of oppressors vs. the oppressed. But there is a wide and deep habit of “White Knighting” in traditionalist circles – and it is absolutely related to the bizarre hatred toward 50 Shades of Grey – a silly piece of erotica with some spanking and bondage, after all.

Not only does feminism “shame” male sexuality – we’re all rapists, wife beaters and we “objectify” women’s bodies, after all – but so does conservatism and modern Christianity. For the right-wingers, feminists are correct that men are deeply afraid of women’s sexuality. But it’s for a good reason.

If men really knew what turns women on, civilization would come to a halt, because so much of civilization is based on chivalry and wanting to believe that women tend toward monogamy and are attracted to “good men.”

They are not. Quite the opposite, in fact.

When men discuss their own sexuality, they quite often focus on how shallow it is – a nice pair of tits and a round ass. Men will go on and on about how they will “fuck anything that moves” and how men are all “sluts.” But these same men project this quite Victorian notion onto women. You see this in the worst parts of the manosphere, who really do believe – and the feminists have them correctly pegged here – that women want to “trade sex for resources.” The man provides the “resources” and the women pay for it with sex – which the man wants, and the women don’t, really.

Then, when these manosphere men look at how women actually behave – quite the opposite of their Victorian fantasy – they get angry and resentful. They drag the women down from that pedestal they placed her on and disparage her as a “hypergamous slut.”

I feel for women, I really do, because they are only allowed to be a Madonna, or a Whore. There’s never anything in between.

nude-girl-in-heavy-bondage-feature-600x355

Of course, the feminists hate 50 Shades of Grey because Ana is submissive and Mr. Grey is dominant. It’s essentially a Patriarchal Rape Fantasy, and feminists hate women’s sexuality even more than Conservative men do. The same feminists that hate the idea of 50 Shades would be praising a similar novel up and down if the roles were reversed. If it was a high powered woman CEO Dominatrix that loves to spank young studly pool boys, the feminists would love it (even though it would leave them drier than the Sahara Desert.) But the fact the novel essentially portrays traditional roles – the man is powerful, the woman is submissive – they hate it.

You will find the worst hate coming from the uber-feminist “BDSM Community.” The “BDSM Community” has done nothing but shriek about 50 Shades of Grey, saying it’s not “real BDSM” – they didn’t even use s safe word!!! – and that it’s really just abuse. The BDSM community keeps hating on the “50 Shaders” – young women interested in BDSM because of reading the novel, and how they “totally have the wrong idea.” Just like hipsters upset that the mainstream has finally caught on to some underground band, the “BDSM Community” feels like it’s losing it’s monopoly on what “real BDSM is” and love nothing more than to morally posture about how everyone else is doing it “wrong.”

Believe me, the “BDSM Community” is more obnoxious than the worst sorts of “Social Justice Warriors” blathering on about “transphobia” and “tolerance for Otherkin.”

Of course, the humorless conservatives, including Christians, are not only afraid of their own penises, but doubly afraid of vaginas, apparently. Bondage? That’s “degenerate!” “Spanking? Only an evil, sick man would be rough with a woman! Sex is supposed to be about tender caresses and the missionary position. My wife in an innocent angel, why, she doesn’t get turned on ever, except when I rub her feet on date night! My daughter is totally chaste and she tells all those nasty boys “no” – she would never purposefully and with malice aforethought seduce a man – especially not an older man! That’s just sick!”

To any man who actually has experience with women, these guys are jokes. I remember these fathers well, from high school and college. They “trusted” their daughters, so no problem her taking the car and meeting up with Sleazy Hipster Boyfriend for some good, clean teenage fun.

Like bowling or watching a movie, you know. Certainly not blowjobs in the car, threesomes and all sorts of raunchy sex. Only “those kinds of girls” do that – “not my wife and daughter.”

You have to laugh.

Women are sexually aroused by power. It doesn’t make any difference whether the man with the power is “good” or “evil” – in fact, I suspect women have an instinct toward “evil men” frankly. Women are sexually aroused by being overwhelmed by that power, to submitting to that power – willingly, or even hotter, unwillingly.

The key part of the Rape Fantasy is that the woman is so desirable that the man, powerful though he is, is in fact, overpowered by her – by his desire for her.

Feminism makes women deeply ashamed of their own sexuality, and that is why the “BDSM Community” was invented. Gals want what they want sexually, so the “BDSM Community” does its best to contain their submissive natures. That is why there is all the obsession with “safe words” and “consent” and “role play.” It has to be “just playing,” “just role play,” and “verbally consented to without duress.”

To feminists, a woman consenting to be tied up and flogged at a sex club is fine – but a wife obeying her husband; that’s sexist misogyny. A woman who is a “slave” in the “BDSM Community” can be collared and made to eat dogfood – that’s just a “kink.” But a girl putting out for her boyfriend to keep him happy – that’s “date rape.”

Conservatives are right, in a sense. Because of women’s hypergamous nature, unleashed female sexuality will destroy a civilization. Monogamy exists for a reason, patriarchy exists for a reason. Patriarchy makes men invest in children, and monogamy is how men are assured that the children are his. Without monogamy and without patriarchy, men have no incentive to invest in the future, in the society, in the tribe. Without Patriarchy and Monogamy, there is no civilization.

woman-in-fishnets-spanking-498x332

Women are hypergamous, and polygamy is the nature state of humans. Women have little problem sharing a high status man with other women. The wives of wealthy and desirable men have been looking the other way at their husband’s affairs since forever – it’s the natural state of things. Most women would rather put up with cheating from a handsome, wealthy man than be married to a faithful but poor schlub.

The reason we have monogamy is because, left to their own devices, women would share the top 50% of men, and the bottom 50% of men would have no women at all.

Yet, for a society to actually work, you need the bottom half of men. It’s those “betas” that make the trains run on time, not to mention kill the ragheads that are living on top of our oil.

Since reliable, scientific birth control was invented, women have been able to pursue a “double strategy” – the so called “alpha fucks and beta bucks.” By postponing marriage, children, and family formation, women have been able to get sex from men “out of their league” while young, but still be able to find a caring man “in her league” for marriage. Men who object to their wives previous promiscuity are simply shamed as “insecure” and the whole point of giving out free condoms in high school is to make sure that there are no virgins left by the time boys and girls are of marriageable age.

That’s by design, because men might choose the virgins for marriage, thus incentivize women to remain chaste.

This worked for 50 years, until the internet destroyed the consensus, like it has the consensus on so many things. The “manosphere” has sort of let the cat out of the bag. The numbers don’t lie – marriage is a dead institution. If present trends continue – and they almost certainly will – most people will never marry. Fertility will continue to drop like a rock, and more and more men will simply “opt out” of society.

It’s laughable to read the complaints of pseudo-feminist women wondering where all the chivalry has gone. Chances are, women aren’t even going to be taken out on proper dates anymore. For the average men, women have virtually nothing to offer him – but sex. As the days of a wife, a mother to your children, and an exclusive lover are gone, what do women have that men need? Just the sex, that’s it.

You can see the results of this with the increasingly crass attitudes of men toward women, and vice-versa. Many advanced cultures are going through this phenomenon, Japan being a noticeable example, with their “herbivore men” who don’t bother chasing women, never get married, and simply drop out of the culture. They do not contribute to the culture except in the most minimal way, as consumers.

The same thing is happening in the USA, although mass non-white immigration and multi-culturalism obscures the effects somewhat. The bottom is dropping out of the White middle class, and it dropped out of the White working class 30 years ago – exactly at the time when the Sexual Revolution was finally mainstreamed.

This is not a coincidence.

Feminists and Conservative both hate 50 Shades for the same basic reason: it’s an accurate account of women’s sexuality. Feminists hate it because it reminds them that women want “the wrong thing.” Women are supposed to want an “equal relationship with a peer who respects her as a person.” But women tend to actually go for men who are higher status than her, and if he’s “emotionally unavailable” she just wants him more. Conservatives are also upset that women want “the wrong thing.” Women are supposed to want a Good Conservative Christian – you know, like them. Instead, women go for the Bad Men, even men who are “abusive” and they generally don’t get wet for the husband that reads the Bible to her before he gently fucks her in the missionary position. Worse for the conservatives, women are not particularly interested in monogamy. They want one man – at a time – but are always looking for the opportunity to “trade up” and while young, they are in no hurry to marry the Beta Boy Next Door that’s “in her league” – not when she still has access to Studly Hockey Players to gang-bang after practice.

That is where all this hate for a silly romance novel with some bondage and spanking comes from. It’s not about the bondage and spanking.

It’s about power.

That’s why they call it “Power Exchange.”

What It’s Like Having A Penis

So, you make billions of sperm every day. This fact sort of influences you on a macro level as well.

Now, the fact that we have these sort of urges, yet – at least white men, I can’t speak for the others – we have enough self-control we don’t actually do this. Really, we should get some sort of award.

So who is the hottest celebrity? Certainly, Anna Kournakova, the tennis player, must be at the top of the list. Not only does she have that pure Aryan Beauty, she also has this seductive, sultry, sexiness. Similar, but not quite the same.

I always thought Taylor Swift was a hottie, and I’m a sucker for a gal with a nice singing voice. I used to date this 21 year old Christian girl that looked kind of like Taylor Swift, and she loved Taylor Swift, and had a great voice herself. Oh man, that girl was so hot I was totally a “beta” around her. A good Christian girl saving herself for marriage, but nevertheless loved attention from an older man.

Let’s see, Christina Applegate had that white trash slutty hotness, and I used to think that Alicia Silverstone was super-hot, until I saw a picture pre-nose job. Without the nosejob and the hair dye, her kosher looks really show through. Why it is jewesses are always getting nose jobs and dying their hair? Biologically, it’s called “crypsis.”

As a young boy, I, like most white boys, had a huge crush on Drew Barrymore. She was the Manic Pixie Dream Girl of our dreams, and when she turned 18 and did that “Poison Ivy” movie where she turns into this sexy Black Widow type character, um, hot hot hot.

Now in real life, I have a total thing for redheads, but I can’t think of many redheaded celebrities that I like, although the redhead on That 70s Show is just adorable.

Helpless Holly

There she was, squirming like a squirly dog, all tied up, nowhere to go. So she’s laying on her side, hands taped behind her back, ankles tightly restrained with black electrical tape (I had to improvise) and her loud mouth full of her panties all secured with loops of that black electrical tape circling her head.

Fit to be tied or something.

“Ok, Holly. Are you comfortable?”

Holly replies, “Mmmmffggff!”

“Ok, Holly,” I say.

hey-girl-smash-patriarchy

So it was my first semester on campus. I had only been allowed in this college due to my Heritage Foundation Scholarship for Students for Life, otherwise my grades were so poor otherwise I would have had to coast on the hockey thing. My years of pro-life activism and saving babies had prepared me for the liberal, leftist campus that I would be attending. I knew I would keep my Christian principles intact even with the temptations of the world.

Then I met Holly. This liberal, feminist, pro-choice activist. Oh I admit it, she was very attractive. Red haired, green eyed, umm … ample bosom. An amazing ass. Short, short tempered, the kind of gal that always needs a spanking, the harder the better. Oh yes, back in Bible College we learned how to deal with these devlish women. A strict regimen of Christian Domestic Discipline will strip these bitches of their feminist delusions. “Wives, submit to your husbands” is in the Bible, and if we have to spank them while making them read Bible verses, well, they were almost certainly asking for it.

Mandatory BDSM Reference

So I go up to Holly’s campus activist table, where she’s passing out some sort of babykiller pamplets, with a website “independentwomenforchoice.org” with a pagan symbol of some sort. I say, “Hi Holly, something something something” and gague her reaction. I pretend I’m a babykiller too, see if I can suss out some information before I report back to my radical pro-life cell at my Christian church.

Holly smiles, “oh yes, feminism is very welcoming to men and their issues! Here I have a handout about boys needing education!” Her eyes almost twinkle, and I fake a smile back. I swear, for one moment, she’s buying it. Little does she know what I am setting her up for.

So I say, “hey, Holly, it was really nice to meet you. Maybe you and I can go get a Proud Whopper at Burger King sometime?”

Cate_Gary

Strugglefucking Holly

Don’t read this. You won’t like it. If you do, don’t complain because I warned you.

I opened her dorm room door. She said, “hi … who is it?” She looked up and saw me, kind of looked scared. So I said “Hi Holly,” smiled, and walked over to the bed and just jumped on her. She screamed, “no! stop! What are you doing?”

“Oh come on Holly, it’s just me,” I say. I start kissing her neck. She moans, “no stop it. Stop it. No!” She uses both her hands to try to push me off. I grab her left arms just under her elbow and take her right by her wrist with my other hand, push her arms above her head and then hold both her wrists in my hand. “Come on Holly, you’ll like it. You’re so hot. I bet you’ll get wet.”

“Stop it,” she screams, her voice turning hoarse. She pushes her wrists up as hard as she can but I just hold them down with my left hand, then use my right to tickle her on the side of her waist. “No!” she wails, wriggling and struggling. She starts to life up one leg so I keep my crotch right below hers, on her thighs, so she can’t kick me. “Stop it! Noooo!” She’s wiggling around, then starts sobbing. She relaxes, relents and the tears start flowing.

“Sweetie, you know you want it. I saw the way you were looking at me.” Between sobs she moans, “no, no.” I grab the top of her nightgown and rip down hard, her breasts falling out. I rub both her breasts, brushing my palms across her nipples, back and forth, squeezing a little then letting up.

“I bet you’re wet, you little slut! You know you like it.” I reach my hand from her breasts, across her stomach.

She jolts against me, “no! Stop! Don’t! Stop it!” I push her wrists down hard, then bring my other hand up and put it around her neck and squeeze. She starts jerking her head back and forth.

“Don’t be a bitch. You’re not going to be running your liberal mouth now. I bet you’re wet. I bet your pussy is soaked, isn’t that right?” I squeeze her neck really hard, then let go, run my hands down her side, grab her nightgown and pull it up. She keeps her legs tightly closed so I just make a sudden jerk, like I’m going to hit her, and she freezes. Her eyes are closed and she’s sobbing softly, tears all down the sides of her face.

I grab the crotch of her panties, pull them to the side, and rub the outside, poke my fingers inside a bit.

“Ha! I knew it, you little slut. Feel how wet you are. You’re soaked. You know you want it.”

She breaks into sobs all over again.

I put my hand around her neck, unzip my pants with the other hand and pull out my cock. I’m fucking hard now. I use my weight to push her legs apart. She’s crying now, jerking around every once in a while, then trying to scream under my hand. Then she relaxes and starts crying again.

“Come on, baby.” Fuck I’m breathing heavy as I start to stick it in. She flinches again, starts moaning.

The bitch fucking loved it.

When I’m done, I pull up my pants and stand up. She’s lying on the bed, on her side, curled up, totally silent. I tell her, “don’t tell anyone. This is between us, got it?” I open the door and turn to look at her, just lying there on the bed.

I say, “no one would believe you anyway,” and shut the door behind me.

The_3_phases_of_love_by_CasperAndersen

Rules For Rapists (Trigger Warning!)

Rules For Rapists (Trigger Warning!)

Teaching Our Daughters to Not Rape
Teaching Our Daughters to Not Rape

Let’s call her Susan. She was the prettiest girl I had ever met. I was 16. We met through a mutual friend and she seemed like a “nice girl.” After hanging out for one day, she invited me to a “party” at her house. I was thrilled to be invited to hang out with the cool, rich kids.

At the party I felt out of place as everyone was older than me, and although everyone seemed to be under 21, someone brought alcohol, beer and vodka. I had never been drunk before, but after a few hours I found myself quite intoxicated.

This is what I was wearing when I was raped. My ironic trucker hate is NOT consent!
This is what I was wearing when I was raped. My ironic trucker hat is NOT consent!

I don’t remember how much I drank. My head spinning, and feeling dizzy, I laid down on my back, on her couch, fully clothed. I don’t remember what Susan said to me, but she got on top of me and started kissing me. I admit that I liked it. It was exciting, but I didn’t expect it to go anything further than a typical teenage groping session. I was already aroused when, without asking, she thrust her hand in my pants and began caressing my penis. Although I did not consent to this, I got hard. She was going faster and further than I expected, and at some point she unzipped my fly and pulled down my pants. When she hiking up her skirt, I realized that she had already removed her panties. She noticed my hestitation, and made a joke, “makes you wonder how people figured out how to do it in the old days, huh?” I felt intense shame, embarassed, like she was teasing me for my inexperience. Did she know? I was only 16, and a virgin.

But not for long. Suddenly, I felt a hot wetness envelop my penis, as she began thrusting down on me. It happened so fast. I didn’t think she would go so far. I had only known her for a few days. The next, er, few minutes seemed like forever, and I felt as if my own body betrayed me as I let out a moan and involuntarily ejaculated deep inside her.

Stop Her Before She Rapes Again.
Stop Her Before She Rapes Again.

Her mood changed quickly. She got up and went to the bathroom. I laid on the couch, unsure of what had happened, and how she had escalated so far, so quickly. She came back and told me her parents would be back in the morning and that she would call me a cab. Alone, I stood on the corner of her suburban neighborhood, still drunk from the alcohol, and waited for the cab. She lived so far away, it took almost all of the money I had left over from being a paperboy that summer just to get home. I used my key to open the back door of my parents house and snuck into my room.

She didn’t talk to me much after that, and I never told anyone for a long time. I later found she had done the same thing to a number of other boys my age, and at some point there were a few of us hanging out with enough courage to share our experiences. Every one of the boys she had raped had bad feelings about her, one of them angry and furious at what she had done. One boy said to another boy, “I don’t care what she did, I’m glad you hurt that bitch. I hope you caused her pain.”

Rape Culture.
Rape Culture.

It was only later when I went to college I learned from a “Take Back the Night Rally” that “All Men are Potential Rapists” and that if you don’t get enthusiastic verbal consent, it’s rape. But all of the “anti-rape” education made it sound like it was boys escalating sexually with girls, without getting their consent. It was never even suggested that women could be sexually aggressive. The “anti-rape” materials we were given as students read like they came from a completely different world; not a word to describe the girls in my high school and college who were sexually aggressive, frequently hopping from one boy/young man to another. From my experience and the few experiences other boys/young men were willing to share, these girls almost never asked for consent, verbal or otherwise, but just assumed that if she was in bed with a boy she had “blanket consent” to go all the way.

This was how I learned about “rape culture” and I discovered what I like to call the “Rules For Rapists.” Here are the rules:

1. Be female.

Most Rapists Are Never Caught.
Most Rapists Are Never Caught.

Sexually aggressive girls and women were treated with slogans like “you go girl!” Women are now even encouraged to sexually pursue men and boys much younger than them, which they call “empowering” instead of “exploitative.” Even if a boy or a young man were to report a rape, they would be ridiculed, told that they probably enjoyed it, or even more likely, their rapist might just accuse them of rape which feminist campus officials and even the authorities would likely believe. Even female teachers that rape young boys in their classes are treated with kid gloves. Girls will be girls, and those boys probably enjoyed it anyway!

The question for feminists is clear – why aren’t you teaching your daughters to not rape?

Same to you, bitch!
Same to you, bitch!

Rape me
Rape me my friend
Rape me
Rape me again

Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?

Hate me
Do it and do it again
Waste me
Rape me, my friend

Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?

My favourite inside source
I kiss your open sores
I appreciate your concern
You’re gonna stink and burn

Rape me
Rape me, my friend
Rape me
Rape me again

Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?

Rape me!
Rape me!
Rape me!
Rape me!
Rape meeeeeeeeeee!