After All These Years-2
This is the second part of my story, which I began a few weeks ago. The abuse began with my older brother and a much older cousin when I was seven. That particular incident was one of the worst moments of my life. It was forced and physically painful- they took turns with me. I remember every detail now, including my begging them to stop and the crying. It has always seemed strange to me that after that abuse, I never cried again. I just took it. After this, my brother's personal abuse of me continued for years. He would slip into my bed and then it would start. All kinds of things. Sometimes oral sex, sometimes anal. Other times he would just masturbate and ejaculate on me or rub my genitals with it. And I was scared to tell. But it did not stop there. Fairly often, he would have a friend over, when the adults were out for the evening and he was supposed to be watching me. At first I thought they just happened to show up, but I now realize that there was much more to it. He was arranging for his buddies to use me. A friend would show up and within a few minutes, the friend would take of his clothes. Then they would tell me to do the same so we could have some fun. And it would go from there. Once, a guy showed up, got naked and started to masturbate. My brother told me to suck him. After a while, the friend pushed my head back and started to masturbate again. Then he laid me on my back, go on top of me, front to front and continued until he ejaculated. But he didn't stop. He kept on going until he made me have an orgasm as well. It was humiliating. On another occasion, another friend showed up. He also wanted me to perform oral sex, and so I did with my brother watching. Then he wanted anal sex, but I didn't want to do that. They kept on talking and there was no escape, so he did it anyway. In those years when my brother was still using me, he more or less pimped me out to his friends. It all just became a part of my life. It has left me with feelings of shame, disgust, anger, rage- you name it. And, with a feeling of being 'damaged'. I still remember that during the first time, that older cousin kept telling me to be quiet- that after a while it wouldn't hurt so much. He was wrong, because the hurt never stopped.