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When my boyfriend shared the photos of me naked he made me pose for for his 'art' assignment

There were a lot of parties back then. One remains in my mind, I didn’t drink that much but I became basically leg less from about 4 drinks. I remember holding myself up in the kitchen and a well known guy from my school, in my year, who I thought was my friend started pulling my shirt down and rubbing cake all over my chest. I kept pushing him away and he just kept doing over and over until someone called him out. That same person took me outside and called my mum to come and get me, I ended up blacking out and woke up in hospital with concussion from falling flat on my face on the gravel road. To this day I still don’t know what happened between then and hospital but I’m sure someone spiked my drink with ill intentions.

i was 16 at the time and went to a small party only knowing a few people there. I had a fair bit to drink and starting chatting to a guy from newington. We kissed for a while and then he started trying to put his hand up my skirt while we were in front of a bunch of people. I said i needed to go to the bathroom so i would have an excuse to leave. When i came out of the bathroom he was right there waiting for me and as i stumbled out he took me into a bedroom and closed the door. He didn't rape me but he used his hands and made me bleed, i was in so much pain and i was screaming but he kept going so forcefully. At some point he had taken his pants off and shoved his penis down my throat and pushed my head down. i asked to to back out to the party multiple times and he kept hushing me to stop talking.

Sex Ed at my private school was taught to me by an older man who was also my roll call tutor. On my first day of school he called me up to the front and said to me, 'Who's a sexy girl'. I was 12. I remember looking around at my peers, yet no one reacted, I wasn't sure anyone else had heard. I felt so alone in that moment and as no one had reacted, and I was 12, I questioned at the time whether what had happened was wrong, which of course it was. That same man proceeded to be the sole Sexual Education / PDHPE teacher throughout my high school experience. Years later another girl came forward about a personal incident with him and he left the school. However the impact he had in creating an uncomfortable and unsafe environment in my sexual education was so lasting for me, it severely impacted my relationship with my sexuality, with consent and the ability to say no and feel safe in doing so. I question why the school deemed it appropriate for a man older than 50 to be teaching young girls about their bodies in the first place.

When I was in Year 8, a few of my friends and I went to a Waverley boys party. I got really drunk and went upstairs and passed out in a bed. Three Waverley boys followed me in and one my one took turns of sticking their hands down my pants. I could speak or move butI remember trying to say "No" but nothing would come out. I heard one of the guys pants un-zip and knew I was in trouble. Luckily, one of my friends opened the door and realised what was going on and carried me out. For years, I was so ashamed and worried that I would get called a "slut" and so I never told anyone the truth. I would have the same recurring nightmare for years and wake up screaming and crying. It was only 8 years later, that I realised I had been sexually assaulted.

Dumb idea- parents need to do more

Teaching children about consent is critical. Boys especially are inundated with images of idealised female beauty and yet, riddled with hormones and sadly being exposed to porn and other inadequate ideas about sex, they are often very ill equipped to understand the opposite sex. It's not just 'no means no'. There's so much more to it. Personal history: have they or anyone in their family been sexually abused? If so there is a great fragility and fear around the body, growing up and sexuality. Parenting styles: Being able to discuss things like masturbation, sexuality and relationships openly or not affects confidence and the ability to relate to others Family: what is going on in families - the dynamic, circumstances and issues big and small. It all connects. Here is my story. My son's school may have let my son down by not teaching him about consent. But in so many ways, so did I. Our story is one of complicated layers where sexual abuse has affected both 'victim' and 'perpetrator'. And yet, even as I write, there is so, so much more to understand before healing truly takes place. My son is in his early 20s now. A young adult. He's had very little sexual experience and as yet, not been in a proper relationship though he has close female and male friends. He has been raised by me as a single parent, since divorce from his father when he was age 2. He was sexually and emotionally abused by his biological father. This has only just come to light and is breaking my heart as I struggle to comprehend the impact. (I stress that my pain in all of this is taking a backseat but it is there. Always. I am eternally grateful to my Counsellor. I found a beautiful person I can really at last be the raw, hurt me with). Their relationship broke down at age 14. I had a baby quite unexpectedly that same year. As all my attention went to raising this new person, as well as moving to a new home and settling in there, I think I forgot my boy. I thought he would be ok with all that change. Of course he wasn't. Years later, as the children in my extended family all started to grow up, and other issues arose, my son confided that at age 16, he touched a female cousin (aged 9 at the time) in a sexual way while she was asleep. I told my sister. And aside from a few weeks of agonising calls and messages between us, we have all retreated into our own painful worlds. Ours consists of weekly counselling, being kind to one another and taking one step forward, two steps back as far as understanding and forgiving and healing. At the same time, my son advised his great confusion about what he did in light of being sexually abused by his own father. I can't talk about this to anyone with any real truth except my Counsellor. It hurts. So much. And very sadly, more pain in the form of my own reawakened memories of being abused by a trusted uncle - my sister and other family members already knew of this. We may never ever repair this. I cannot explain here all the layers and pre-existing problems between us, lack of trust or understanding of one another and our families. It's so complicated. Our priorities are with our own families and shutting one another out helps us focus. But it's far from easy. Yes. The focus should be on the victim of the unwanted sexual actions. But I was a victim too. And so was my son. I did not become a perpetrator myself. In any way. I value childhood and children as unique and capable individuals greatly and this was often criticised by the very family we are in crisis with now as being indulgent. I silently criticised their forceful, authoritative and punitive parenting style but now find myself more than willing to stand up to them and their years of admonishment. Their daughter was sexually touched while asleep and is entitled to all her anger about this. It is something she doesn't remember and there is fear in that. I know. Because it happened to me. Throughout my childhood. Though there is plenty I remember, too. As a young girl I also had men expose themselves to me, and a neighbour caressed my small breasts and told me 'you're pretty as you're growing up'. At 19, I woke drunk at a party with an unknown man trying to have sex with me. Then I was propositioned by men while travelling solo in Europe. I have so many stories of unwanted sexism attention. And in all of them, it was a MAN not a BOY. My son was a child when he did what he did. He didn't have sex. But what he did was still very wrong. He accepts this. He hates himself. He says he remembers just having strong sexual urges and not knowing what to do. He had no idea about girls. He was still a child. He offered to apologise and do anything it took to make amends. His offer was refused. The whole family United against him. Against us. He and I spend hours every week discussing our layers of pain in private. My niece however shouts to the world about her anger and hatred of my son. Even on social media. As a woman, I understand her. I had a lot worse happen to me and somehow I have managed to still face my abuser all my life. He still lives. And may have no shame. I am still grappling about what to do. Face him? I want to. But there is so much fear. I have held on to my own pain for decades and what happened to me has affected everything in my life. My sexuality, my relationships, my trust issues, my self esteem. Everything. But my priority is my son. His life is ahead of him and he is not a monster. He didn't have any kind of understanding of consent. None. His father didn't show him. He hurt him greatly and I hate to think of the shame and fear in that. I gave him a carefree, loving childhood despite the hole his father left. But I also put all my energy into his sibling, who is now 8 and adored by us all, including her dad who doesn't live with us - but we're still a family. My son was a child when he explored his sexuality IN THE WRONG WAY. He had no consent and his cousin was younger than him. He is sorry for that. But did he know better? No. Sadly I think though he knew it was wrong, he didn't fully comprehend his actions until years later, as an adult. I do blame adults. They need to be held accountable. But a child? My niece might regret all her frightening actions of self harm, sexual and drug experimentation and ruthless targeting of my son one day. But as she is still a child herself at 16, I am forgiving. My son is a beautiful soul with the ability to empathise and suffer and also forgive. We're not religious but we are putting a lot of faith into true compassion here. We are all very, very hurt. The wounds go beyond what happened physically. One day all of this will be less painful. But the relationships will never be the same. Ever. Love your children and teach them. Show them in every action every day because what you do when they are little has lifetime implications. And yes, teaching consent is vital. But it's not just schools who have this duty. It's every single one of us. Every single child deserves protection from all forms of abuse.

It was a school night, I'd been out for a couple of drinks with friends and he walked me to a venue to meet the girlfriend i was meeting to stay with that night. The venue was closed and she had her phone off. It was freezing and we were now sober. He offered me his bed and said he'd take the couch. He left me in his room and I snuggled down for the night. 20 mins later he was back. He got into the bed with me and forced himself on top of me and said disgusting things in my ear while I told him to get out, to leave me alone etc. He kept saying things like 'don't be silly, you know you want me inside you' eventually he got tired of my struggle and I pushed him out of bed and he finally left me alone. I waited until day light and snuck out of his house and went to school. I was to frightened to tell anyone.

I was in Junior High School. It was 1984. A senior boy from year 12 invited me to a friends house during a school lunch break. I was so excited as I thought he liked me. We arrived at the house, he lead me past a lounge room of about eight year 12 girls and boys. He lead me to a back room, there was a bed in the room. I thought we were going to kiss. But when we laid down he claimed on top of me, lifted my dress and pushed his penis against me. It hurt and I asked him to stop. He didn’t until he had finished. I walked back to school and never told anyone until now. I wonder how many other girls from junior school went through what I did.

I was gropped; had my ass slapped; breasts felt; skirt pulled up, and asked whether 'curtains matched the drapes' all through highschool. I was sexually assaulted when celebrating with drinks with my best friend. Drunk, I fell asleep to wake up to him kissing me ferociously and pulling my hand to his erect penis. I was too drunk, but managed to say 'no'. I couldn't move and fell back to sleep. I woke up again to him pinning my down, kissing me, putting his hand inside my sleeping bag, my jeans, my body. I couldn't do anything but stay still to stop the pain. The next day, he pretended nothing had happened, and made me help him clean and fold all the blankets. It's taken eight years to stop blaming myself.

I was in a long term relationship with a Knox boy. At first he seemed loving and so kind, but the deeper we got into our relationship, his respect for me disappeared. I would wake up half way through the night with him forcing himself inside of me, and when I tried to push him off or stop him, he'd pin me back down and tell me to go back to sleep cause it was 'easier'. I stayed in this relationship upwards of 4 years, and knew this was wrong, but was so unsure on how to deal with it. It has scarred me drastically, and I find it so hard to be able to trust any partner I find myself with now.

I dated a guy from Knox grammar, Not only did he rape me and physically and emotionally abuse me during and after the relationship I later found out he had done this to multiple girls all through out high school

There was a lot of issues with male teachers and some female students in multiple years.

This behaviour is not new, there is just more education available now and females are finding their voice. When I think of the culture at Iona College when I was at school the same thing was happening. The speech published by a Cranbrook student last week transported me back to the 90s where this type of degrading conversation was a daily occurrence amongst boys.

I was 18 he was 22, I met him through a mutual friend and we later started talking on Snapchat and Instagram. I was out clubbing one night when he invited me over, I came to his house. We spoke for a bit before having sex - which I consented. It was only about half way through when I realised he wasn't wearing a condom (after I had asked him to wear one or I wouldn't have consented) he then proceeded to hold his hand over my mouth so I couldn't really say or do much. He was a lot bigger and stronger than me and I was young and in denial that what he was doing was wrong. When he finished I asked him where he came as I had told him I wasn't on the pill and he was NOT to finish inside me. When he told me he didn't care and that he in fact did finish while still inside me I rushed to the toilet and sat there for like 5 minutes holding back tears. I felt so disgusted. Not only did I feel uncomfortable because he did it after I asked him not to but I felt 'dirty' for so long. He messaged me the next day asking proof that I took a morning after pill which I paid myself because he refused to pay for it. I've only been able to admit my experience to a few trusted friends recently, this situation affected me so much more than I realised at the time. I felt so alone. I felt so disgusting, so dirty for so many months following.I did not realise until a few years later that what I went through was sexual assault/rape. And on top of this, he also ended up transferring me chlamydia!!(What he did to me is called 'stealthing' )He went to Balgowlah boys high

When I was 15, I was with a group of friends, some from my school (SCEGGS Darlinghurst) and boys from Newington, one of those boys took my virginity. I didn't know until hours later when I regained consciousness and there was blood all over me. I realised what had happened and devastatingly my first thought was that I brought it on myself. I genuinely thought that If I hadn't been wearing what I was wearing or drank as much as I had it wouldn't have happened. I let that burden sit for nearly 3 years. When I got to college, we had to to do a consent module. It wasn't until my first week of college, nearly 3 years later, that I realised I had been raped. During that module I realised that on multiple occasions other boys from that same school had also In fact raped me in the form of fingering. I don't only blame newington for not educating their students on consent but also the girls schools for not equipping me with the understanding that what had happened to me was not intact my fault. Around the time that I had been raped I was entering into a serious relationship with a boy from a different school. We were in a relationship for numerous years and I spent the first 2-3 years apologising for being raped because I assumed that it was fault. It wasn't until college that I was able to communicate with my boyfriend that actually given that I was unconscious/ extremely intoxicated that it actually wasn't 'my fault' and I wasn't 'asking for it'

As a rape victim I believe that all students should be taught about consent as it empowers women and men to know so there can be less cases of rape being unreported or people being given false information

backstory, i was raped a year ago on 8th of march 2020 and to deal with the trauma i turned it into a story. ive used fake names to keep them anonymous btw santeria' by sublime erupts from the speakers, just as someone ducks down and inhales a good three inches of the insane line he's just cut. the music is way too loud, thumping at the back of my head, but no one else seems to mind. someone hands Jake a rolled-up five dollar note, his eyes rolling wildly, a dazed smile pulling his mouth open. 'uhhhhh, oh my god. it's good. it's good. fuck. my face is numb as fuck,' he jabbers, his words bleeding into one another. 'get in there, boss.' he doesn't need telling twice. he snorts just as much as him, if not more. he staggers when he stands, pinching his nose, eyes tightly closed. 'shiiiiit. i think i just came,' he hisses. 'holy fuck.' i laugh because him and him are both laughing. i don't stop laughing, even when jake him hold of his dick through his pants, squeezing, working his hand up and down his obvious hard-on through his jeans. he's just playing around. he's just being a guy in front of his friends. he dances along with the music as he takes his place in front of the counter for his hit. jake has moved behind me, pressing his chest up against my back. he's stopped touching himself, but i can feel his erection butting up against my ass. his hands move to my hips, which feels good, and then they're moving up over my stomach, higher and higher; he skirts around my breasts, one hand resting around the column of my neck, stroking my skin hypnotically, while he buries the other in my hair. his breath is so hot against the shell of my ear. i'm his toy puppet as he pulls me back against him, off balance, so that i'm leaning against him with most of my weight. 'hey, take your shirt off,' he commands. That seems a little weird, but he doesn't bat an eyelid. he rips his t-shirt off over his head, exposing his muscled, tanned back. i can see his chest in the mirror''his cut abs, and his defined pecs. he grins like a court jester at me, his reflection making eye contact, and jake moves his hand, taking hold of me by the jaw, angling my head so i can't look away. 'he just got back from surfing in hawaii. d'you think he's hot?' what? that's a really bizarre thing to ask. he must know I came up here because i'm friends with him, not him, or him for that matter. 'honestly? he's not my type,' i say in what i hope's a light, airy tone. 'no offense or anything.' he's isn't fazed by my comment. in fact, he seems to find it entertaining. he dips, inhales sharply, groaning as he staggers back from the counter. 'all right, mia. your turn,' he says. 'oh, no. i'm good. i think i've had enough already. seriously. my head's thumping right now.' 'come on, princess. just a taste.' he wets his finger, dabbing it against the still foot-long length of coke, collecting some on his finger. there's a devious look on his face as he stalks toward me. 'open up now.' 'him, seriously. i don't need any. i'm good.' 'miiii-aaaaa.' the sing-song cadence of his voice is a taunt. anger finally shoves through the confusion in my head, buzzing in my ears. spinning in his arms, i try to tell him that i want to go back downstairs now, only'_i can't actually turn around to face him. his hands have tightened on me, around my throat again, around my waist. 'don't freak out, sweetheart,' he purrs into my ear. 'we're just having a little fun.' 'this isn't fun,' i snap. 'let me go, dude. god, you guys are such fucking assholes.' this is the moment everything changes. i'm expecting the guys to laugh at me, make fun of me for being such a spoilsport, but in my head, i'm still not entirely caught up with what's about to happen in this bathroom. i still think he's going to release me. it's only when he steps up and grabs the hem of my skirt that i realize how badly this is going to go. 'what'_what are you doing?' i pant, trying to step back, away from him. he's a solid wall of muscle behind me, though; i go nowhere. his hand touches the inside of my thigh, and i lock up, terror turning me into a statue. 'why don't you just'_shut the fuck up?' his tone is so bewildering. he sounds like he's asking a bland, inane question that he actually wants an answer to. 'you're gonna like this, i promise.' my heart is surging too hard. a lightning bolt of panic lighting up my veins as cillian's hand rises up higher, to the apex of my thighs. 'no. no more, okay. god, stop. this isn't funny!' i lash out, kicking like a crazed animal, but the way hes crouched down too close in front of me makes it almost impossible to hit him. jake's hand locks hard around my esophagus, crushing down on my windpipe, and for the second time in my life, i feel fear. real, terrifying, all-consuming, blinding fear. this isn't happening. this can't be happening. any hope i might have had that this is all some terrible joke disappears when i catch sight of his expression in the mirror. his eyes are hard as jet. gone is the smile he was wearing downstairs. gone is the easy, laid back set of his shoulders. this version of him is nothing like the version of him in the kitchen that flirted with me and put me at ease. this he is a stranger. the kind of stranger you cross the street to avoid. the kind that would strike instant fear into you if you stumbled upon them down a dark alley. the man i see in the mirror is gripped by a dark, cruel, wicked excitement that speaks volumes: jake isn't going to help me, he likely instigated this entire thing'_and i am so fucked right now. so, so fucked. i gasp as he hand reaches my underwear. squirming doesn't help. twisting my body away from him doesn't work. jake has an iron grip on me. i can't fucking breathe'_ i somehow manage to suck in a ragged, horrified breath when cillian snags the material of my underwear and yanks them down my legs, though. no. no, no, no, no, nonononono'_. oh my god. i can't get'_fuck'_this can't be'' i still, my head falling back against his chest as his fingers worm between my legs, pushing between the folds of my pussy, shoving their way inside me. the music swells inside the bathroom, but all I can hear is a loud, desperate screaming sound in my ears. raw. desperate. panicked. with some astonishment, i realize that I'm making the noise. i'm screaming so loud and so hard that stars are bursting in my eyes, and my lungs feel like they're about to explode. i'm still screaming, even when a warm, dizzying wall of pleasure begins to mount between my legs, inside me. god, the coke'_he rubbed the coke he had on his finger inside my pussy. hot, burning shame licks at my face as i try to order my body not to react, but there's no denying the chemicals. it feels good. it feels far too fucking good for words. the feeling spreads, rising like smoke, a sharp kind of euphoria taking over my body. 'fuck sake. shouldn't she be out by now, dude? this'd be a lot easier if she wasn't trying to kick me in the balls.' he cackles at his grousing like a drunk hyena. he growls, jerking me, digging his fingernails into my skin. 'i only gave her half a dose. there's nothing to her. i figured she'd be a little more docile.' his teeth scrape against my ear as he hisses at me. 'try and kick one more fucking time and i will break your fucking jaw, bitch. do you hear me? hold fucking still.' i'm dimly aware of what he just said: ''_only gave her half a dose. figured she'd be more docile'_' the knowledge that he's drugged me weighs heavy, pressing me down into the ground. the sluggishness. my inability to think straight. i should have known the way my body was reacting had nothing to do with the adrenaline. the drink. he must have put something in the drink he made me. god, how fucking stupid could i have been? i should have known. i should have seen this coming. but'_ a cute guy smiled at me and made me a drink. at the time, it seemed like a perfectly ordinary thing for him to do. i feel like I'm drowning in glue. the oxygen in the bathroom is thin as I try and pull it down into my chest; it should be a relief to breathe, but every time i try and fill my chest, i end up coughing, choking and spluttering. it's his hand. he's'_he's strangling the life out of me. 'get her legs, man,' he commands. he obeys. i try to scream again as the room tilts and i'm dumped roughly onto my back, but i can't make a single sound. the slate tile on the bathroom floor is freezing against my shoulder blades and the backs of my legs. he lets me go, twisting around, placing one foot on either side of my torso. before he can crouch down and wrap his hands around my throat, i draw myself together, adrenaline and fear doing my thinking for me, and i holler at the top of my lungs. i've had dreams before. dreams where i've been in trouble, but when i've screamed for help, only the softest whisper has come out of my mouth. well, that's not what happens this time. the scream is piercing, loud enough to wake the dead. it echoes around the bathroom, grating and high-pitched, a help-me-i'm-about-to-be-fucking-raped-scream. jake cuts it off with his fist. pain blossoms on the right-hand side of my face as my body registers the swift, vicious right jab i just took on the jaw. i've never been hit before. never like that. my head swims, and for a horrible moment, i think I'm going to pass out. con't you fucking dare, mia, don't you fucking dare! i'm high, scared beyond reason, and now i'm in pain, but i know for a fact that i don't want to lose consciousness. yes, being awake for this is the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me, but if i pass out, i'll never know what they did to me. i will only have my imagination to supply the details, and my imagination already likes to picture the worst. i need the cold, hard facts. i need to be able to hold each of them accountable for their individual actions. a spiderweb of agony laces its fingers across the back of my head, where it hit the tiles just now. Jake sneers, face contorted, his features all warped and twisted as he looks down at me in disgust. i am seeing him for the first time. this is the real him, he's so damn ugly. all the anger, and the hate, and the loathing he's wearing on his face is enough to make him the most hideous creature i've ever seen. he grabs my face by the jaw in one hand, holding me steady, and slowly purses his lips, letting a string of saliva fall from his mouth. i try to turn my head away, but it's no good. his grip on my skull doesn't waver for one second. the only thing i can do is close my eyes as the wad of spit lands on my cheekbone, rolling into the well of my eye socket. 'god, you're a fucking mess, Silver.' i whimper when his thumb presses down on the top of my eyelid. i have no idea what he's trying to do for a moment, and i imagine the worst''that he's about to gouge my eye out. quickly, i comprehend what's really happening, though; he's smearing my eyeliner down my face. not quite as awful as losing an eye but humiliating nonetheless. his thumb shoves into my mouth, and I do the only reasonable thing: i bite down as hard as i can, until i feel my teeth scrape against bone. his howl of pain is almost as loud as the scream i let out a moment ago. another blow hits me in the temple and blackness seeps in, threatening to swallow me up in its oblivion. 'stupid bitch!' i've never heard anything that comes close to the rage in his voice as he grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks my head up, smashing it back down onto the tiles. 'looks like you need to learn a few lessons, mia. who do you think you are? hmmm?' again, he smashes my head down, and i open my mouth, stunned by the shockwave of disorienting pain that floods my being. 'you're nothing. worse than nothing. you're a piece of meat, put here on this earth for our pleasure. don't you know how this works, you dumb fucking cunt? me and my boys? we're from different stock. purebreds. we do what we want. say what we want. take what we want. you should be fucking grateful we even deigned you worthy of our attention.' he's dripping blood onto the floor, a red, gory circular welt around the knuckle of this thumb. the sight of the wound i gave him does something to me. i should stay quiet. that's what i should do. i should ride this out, keep my mouth shut, and hope they'll go easy on me. be a good possum and play dead. but'_i can't. it's just not in me to lie down and take something like this. i will fight them every step of the way. i will kick, and scream, and bite, and i will cause as much chaos as possible, if it means that this won't be easy for them. 'if you're waiting for me to show gratitude,' i spit, choking on the word, 'then you're gonna be waiting a hell of a long time, *persons full name*. i am not nothing. i have a voice, and i will use it. i do not give you permission to touch me. let'_me'_go.' he had my arms pinned by my sides all this time. he snatches hold of my wrists and pulls them roughly up high over my head, a dangerous, malicious, crazy light in his eyes. 'hmm, that's it, is it? pretty princess mia. oo good for all of us. too fucking special. don't bite. don't kick. don't scream. spread your legs and keep your mouth shut, bitch, and we'll see if we can make this quick.' setting my jaw, even though it hurts and my teeth feel like they're shattered, i look him dead in the eye. the drugs are still there, churning around my system, making it difficult to focus, but in this moment everything becomes crystal fucking clear. he wants more than my body from me. more than my pain. he wants my fear. he, alone, is so much stronger than me, but with him and him thrown into the mix, i don't have a hope in hell's chance of fighting them off. they're going to do what they set out to do. i've pissed him off, so he is going to make this hurt. but there's one thing i can do, one thing i can keep from him, and that's my fear. i won't fucking give that to him. him sickening smirk deepens as he leers, eyes roving down to pause on my chest. 'yo, what the fuck are you doing, dude. get over here. take her hands. hold her tight. wait. are they scissors over there?' 'a razor blade,' sam says, holding up a blade. 'you want it?' 'yeah. that'll do nicely.' he takes the blade from him in exchange for my wrists. if anything, his grip is even harsher, grinding the bones of my wrists down into the floor. it hurts. it feels fucking terrible to be so vulnerable, at their mercy, but i draw in a breath, holding it in my lungs. then i force my face to go absolutely blank. it would take more control that i possess right now to stop pulling and straining, trying to get free, but my face I can control. i barely even blink as jake he makes a show of holding the blade to the material of the dress, slicing easily through the fabric. he tears and rips at it, pulling away handfuls of black, his eyes glinting with frenzied expectation. 'what you staring at, mia? you like this after all?' he growls. in no time at all, the dress is gone. i don't even flinch as he greedily saws through the pretty white bow between the cups of my bra. my breasts spring free, and a frightening tension begins to mount in the room. 'shit, mia. you've been holding out on us,' hi says thickly. 'who knew you were hiding those bad boys underneath your clothes all this time. fuck, look at her nipples. he uses a knee to pin my hands, reaching for me, cupping me in his hands, his fingers pinching painfully at my nipples, rolling them as he grins down at me. 'god damn. and here i was, thinking this'd be a waste of time. if i put my dick in your mouth, mia, are you gonna suck it for me?' he punches him hard in the shoulder. 'wait your fucking turn, asshole. i brought her to the table. i get to fuck her first.' 'all right, man. all right! no need to get shitty.' he leans back, his weight on my wrists, and the pain is excruciating. i breathe in deep through my nose, trying to compartmentalize it, distance myself from it, but it's just too much. jake's gaze crawls over my skin, feasting on me. he sits back on his heels, looking at me, and i'm dreading what will come next, but i don't look away. Iimeet his gaze, burning my hatred into him. 'you're blocking the view, man,' he complains. 'shut the fuck up,' he syas. 'we've got all night, haven't we?' he mumbles something inaudible and unhappy in return, but jake ignores him. getting to his feet, he shrugs out of his letterman jacket, removing the button-down shirt i admired downstairs, slowly unfastening his belt, and then his jeans. It's probably not the smartest move on my part''definitely not the smartest move on my part''but i let out of a bark of laughter when i realize that he's planning on leaving his MVP medal on. he falters, glaring down at me. 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' he hisses. 'don't you have any sense of self-preservation?' 'don't you have any pride?' i fire back. 'is this the only way you can get a girl to fuck you, jake? do you have to force yourself on women 'cause none of them will voluntarily climb into bed with you?' 'you would have happily climbed into my bed an hour ago, you pathetic piece of trash. you would have parted your legs for me just like that.' he snaps his fingers. 'you don't understand. we're given everything we want. the world bows down and lays itself at our feet. it's boring being given so much, mia. sometimes, to know the depths of your own true power, you've got to take'_' he unzips his fly, pushing his boxers and his pants down in one go, and then he stands there, as if he's expecting me to swoon at the glory of his body. i've seen a penis before. he's acting like he's unveiling the eighth wonder of the world, though. i look down at him, terrified to the marrow of my bones, my panic an insidious thing, working its way into each and every cell of my body'_but, somehow, i find the courage to laugh again. at him. at the hard, straining appendage hanging there between his legs, looking like some comical design flaw. 'god, dude. now i get it. if that's what you're working with, then it makes sense that you'd need two guys to pin a girl down.' his face turns a frightening shade of purple. he shakes as he sinks to his knees, kicking him out of the way. i try to twist out from underneath sam one more time, frantic, the opportunity to escape flashing before my eyes, but jake's too fast. he moves quickly, forcing me back onto the tile, the weight of his body bearing down on me. 'you're going to regret that,' he snarls. 'you're gonna wish i'd cut out your tongue with that razor blade, so you couldn't have said something so fucking stupid.' i'm already regretting it. i don't know what i was thinking, but i fucked up. he's going to kill me. he's going to fucking kill me. i whimper, struggling, despising myself for cracking, for letting any sign of fear through, but none of it matters. he roughly shoves his way between my legs, baring his teeth in a savage rictus of hate as he drives his hips forward, his erection butting up against the inside of my thigh. 'fucking cunt!' he seethes. 'fucking dirty, disgusting cunt!' a sharp, breathtaking moment occurs, suspended in time, and jake stills on top of me. his pupils are blown, dilated wide enough to have swallowed his irises. he's inside me. he's'_ god'_ i bite the inside of my cheek, reveling the new stab of pain between my legs. the signal that i've lost something again i will never get back. 'oh, mia. mia, mia, mia. this tight little pussy of yours has just made all the hassle and trouble you've caused worth it. fuck me, but you're tight. does it feel good? am i making you feel good?' hot, burning tears streak from my eyes, but i don't make a sound. i just look up at him, my face blank again, though this time from shock. i can't believe'_ his isn't'_ it can't be'_ he begins to undulate on top of me. i can feel him pulling out of me and driving back up and inside, a fresh wave of pain coursing through me with every roll of his hips. my stomach riots, threatening to eject its contents, and i do nothing to hold it back. 'don't look at me like that, mia,' he snaps. 'i'm doing you a fucking favor.' in my head, i laugh. i laugh that he could ever think that, because he does. he really believes this lie. on the outside, i remain closed off, numb, my eyes boring into him as he thrashes, quickening his pace on top of me. 'look away,' he commands. i don't. i won't. if he plans on continuing this violation of my body and my soul, then he's going to have to bear the weight of the judgment in my eyes as he does it. *person full name*, most respected, influential students, grunts, gouging his fingers into my breasts as he fucks me against my will. he makes a guttural sound at the back of his throat, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watches jake writhe on top of me. i pay him no attention, though. i only have eyes for him. frustrated, furious, his hand swings down to connect with my cheek, and i taste blood. 'i said look away!' he yells.' again, i don't. time stretches and slows, taunting me as each second drags by. he bites the top of my shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. he bruises me, gouges, digs, twists, pinches. he fucks me harder and harder, and i see the mad lust in his eyes changing into something else. something that resembles desperation. i don't know how long he continues for. i wrestle for each breath. i struggle and pull. i do everything in my power to get away''which is to say i can do nothing. and every time he pushes himself inside me, grunting and sweating, i make sure i'm glaring at him with cold, dead eyes. eventually, he snaps. dropping down, the tip of his nose flush with mine, he roars into my face. 'I SAID FUCKING LOOK AWAY!!' i'_ can't'_ fucking'_ breathe'_ he slams his fist into my side. my ribs scream, agony ripping through my torso, tearing through every last nerve ending. i have no choice in the matter now. my body convulses as i try and roll onto my side, vomit rising up in my throat, but sam's still holding me in place. jake reels back, and i see what i felt between my legs''his sad, flaccid dick, hanging pathetically, stuck to the inside of his thigh. now, he reacts with shame. now, because his friends have seen that he couldn't fucking finish. that he couldn't keep his dick hard enough to humiliate me by coming inside me. 'don't just fucking sit there, staring.' he snatches a towel from the counter, wrapping it around his waist, then wipes his nose with the back of his hand. 'get on with it, for fuck's sake. it's early. there's a party still going on downstairs.' he doesn't need a second invitation. he climbs on top of me and does what the other could not. he follows. when they're done, they release me'_ '_ and one by one they take turns in spitting on my cold, bloodied, naked body. The sound of their laughter rings in my ears as they leave the bathroom. he pauses a second in the doorway, revulsion raging like a storm in his eyes. 'if you tell anyone that i couldn't,' he whispers, 'i'll make your life a living hell, mia. i'll make your life so unbearable that you'll do us all a favor and kill yourself before i have to do it fucking for you.

I was raped my first year out of school by someone i didn't know- a backpacker from overseas. It happened on my first night out since turning 18 and i thought i was untouchable- nothing like THAT would ever happen to someone like ME. And if it would, i would TOTALLY be able to defend myself. But of course, i was wrong. Because i wanted this boy to kiss me, i thought that even though i didn't want to, him forcing me to go down on him and forcing himself inside me was ok, because i initially wanted him to kiss me and i never verbally said no. It took about 6 months and incredibly deteriorated mental health before i realised what truly happened to me. When i told my parents my dad said 'you know the worst part is, this guy probably doesn't even know that he did anything wrong' After my rape i was so truly stripped of everything i was that i didn't see the red flags and started dating someone 5 years older than me who was emotionally and physically abusive. He would often coerce me into doing sexual things to him when he knew it triggered my PTSD following my assault. even then i didn't know that coercion wasn't consent. I never understood/was taught that consent meant ALL THE TIME throughout the kissing etc with another person and with NO MATTER WHO- even a partner/boyfriend.

I was 17 and at a friend's party. A Cranbrook boy took me to a different room to 'talk' and then tried to force me to give him oral sex despite saying no and trying to touch me. I was lucky - he only stopped because my friend's dad walked in. He did the same to my friend a few months later.

Although my school prided itself on uplifting and educating strong women with the saying "Girls can do anything, but Vinnie's Girls can do EVERYTHING" My school failed us by never giving consent talks. They never gave us a queer sex education because of the Catholic ethos, queer identifying students were usually shunned or looked down upon by the Administration. Don't get me wrong, I loved the teachers and their work but the level of slut shaming was abhorrent. We were taught about STI's, the risks of drugs and alcohol but never how to safely navigate these areas. The stigma of STI's rather than management programs was detrimental to me personally. When I was 15 I was forced to give a 23 year old man oral sex. I did not have the education nor the strength to say no. I was raped years after I left school by a private boys school alumni. He forced himself on me, claiming that he hadn't heard me cry out stop when he entered an area I had previously deemed off limits. I passed out and woke up to him still 'finishing' in me. I contracted herpes as a result of this. The education I received at school regarding herpes was fucking laughable, so much so that the line from the Hangover was the only outstanding knowledge I had about the disease. I was suicidal after this and only can thank the help of friends that pulled me out of my depressive pit. I have been sexually assaulted at my various places of work, at clubs, at pubs, on the street and too many other times to count. THERE IS NOT ONE WOMAN I KNOW THAT HASN'T BEEN ASSAULTED. STI education needs a re-do. Consent education NEEDS TO BE AT THE FOREFRONT OF THE SYLLABUS. Women shouldn't have to turn to their friends for help because their schooling was lackluster. I haven't been public outside of my friend circle about this because of various reasons and mistrust of the justice system but wholeheartedly support anyone that can. Thank you Chanel for making this Tsunami of change. For all assault survivors, I hope that this gives you the courage and strength to talk about your experience. You are never alone.

If I remember correctly I was 14. We had never met, I spoke to him over Facebook and I invited him to my friends free. I drank and got into the pool with him. I hooked up with him and did other things. But I didnt want to have sex with him and he knew that. He knew I hadn't had sex before and I didn't want my first time to be on the cold concrete in a public area of my friends apartment block with a stranger. I don't remember how it went from the pool to this spot or what I said. I just remember being so uncomfortable against the cold bricks with him on top of me pushing himself in. I remember saying no multiple times, saying I don't want it and I remember him saying 'just a little', 'come on, we already started'. I don't think he finished, I think I pushed him off but I don't really remember either. What I do remember is the sick I felt, and not from drunk but disgust in me. I fell asleep with a fake smile on my face next to my friend pretending nothing had happened and soon woke to needing to vomit my guts out and an extreme feeling of guilt. I called my dad at 4am to pick me up and when I got home I got into bed with my mom to calm me down. I didn't say a word. The next week I told a few friends and they confirmed my fears. We were all so young. I was in such denial, I felt dirty and used. At first I was okay to talk about it and call it what it was, but then I had serious doubts about whether I had the right to 'ruin this persons reputation'. I felt so much guilt so I chose to pretend it never happened, when the story had gotten back to him he asked me why I was telling people I was taken advantage of, in the midst of fear and embarrassment I denied it and blocked him on everything. Later my school found out and approached my parents, to which my mom asked me if I had been telling people that I was assaulted. Consumed with fear I denied it, I did not want this to be my story. I would rather be a liar than a victim. When I say him out one night it felt like heart was just going to stop and I was going to die. The worst part of it all was how I didn't even validate what had happened to me because I felt guilty I put myself in that situation. I've never really confronted it either. When my cousin was assaulted this year, almost 6 years later I finally told my mom that I was not lying. He went to cranbrook, and I heard more about the person who he became. Sometimes I wish I would have done more to have taken care of my younger self. I wish I could have validated my experience, because it left a deep hurt.

When I was 16 I attended a good friends party at her house where kids were drinking, having fun, it was the norm. There was a boy there that I think I had met at school briefly, he had moved to our school from a boys private school and he had some of his friends from the private school at the party. He spent all night telling me how he was going to F**k me. I spent the whole night telling him no he wasn't and 'No'. He told of how he wanted to f**k 100 girls before he was 18, just appalling. The night went on, drinks were consumed. We all went to bed in my friends bedroom. My friend was in her parents bed with a boy from the private school. There was quite a few people sleeping in the room. I lay next to my girlfriend and I distinctly remember thinking he won't get me here as I'm right next to other people. Didn't matter to him. He ended up finding his way into the bed with us and proceeded to touch me and pretty much forced himself on me right next to my friend. I was too scared to move, too embarrassed to say anything. I can remember it hurt, really hurt and I thought this is the only way to get him to leave me alone. I remember biting my own hand as it hurt and I could not speak. No one in the room said anything and neither did I. I was sore for a few days and remember not feeling very good about myself. It wasn't until years later I realised that was rape. I did not consent, he manipulated me, he stalked me all night until he wore me down. I often wonder if he got his 100 and if I could find him now I would have much to say now I am older and stronger. If there was education in school I would have realised what had occurred and maybe had more courage to come forward. I hate to think what he went on to do if he could be that callous at that age, how would he have treated women as an adult, o shudder to think.

At the end of each school year, the boys would rate the girls across a range of categories - I was so happy to be awarded 'best bum' one year. It's only much later in life that I realised how that behaviour was a small part of a culture that treated girls as objects to be judged, conquered and then shamed and ridiculed. The rumours about some of the girls in my year level were abhorrent - teenagers whispering and laughing at how much of a slut someone was and how often she performed sexual acts and how much she was gagging for it and so on. These crude comments spread across the school like wildfire. Only one side of the story was ever the subject of gossip. I feel ashamed to have not been brave enough to call out the behaviour. I wish someone had done that for me in my working life years later when I was sexually harassed for months until I eventually couldn't cope anymore. After raising the issue with HR, I was fired the very next day. My perpetrator was and still is a vile pig who learned his art at a young age. My shame reminds me how little respect we were shown and how little we respected ourselves - girls at that time were so well trained - we figured she must have been a slut, she did ask for it and maybe no does mean yes when you're drunk. Education priorities need to accommodate teaching consent, acceptable and unacceptable behaviours, gender bias, sociology and racism in this country. '_'Ÿè