I kept it to myself for all of these years. I hope people in reading this story it will help them cope and be able to tell theres. I avoided and even belived myself it had never happend, which of course never works.
It started when i was in Grade 4 i was 8 years old. I was in school in class when i asked my teacher if i could use the washroom. My school only had a few washrooms and the one on my level was way down at the end of the hall not around any classrooms. When i got to the bathroom there was another boy in there, he was older i would say about 15 years old. It was common for kids from the Highschool to come down to pick up there younger siblings for lunch. After i had did my business i came to wash my hands beside the other boy who was also wahsing his hands. He asked if i wanted to see hockey cards. I told him " Ya sure" we then went into a toilet stall so he had a place to set his cards down. As he laid some of the cards out he went over and shut then locked the stall door. In a matter of seconds i remember him grabbing the back of my throat and telling me if i scream he will beat the shit out of me. He then told me to turn around to face him. he let go of my throat and i turned around to face him, he then grabbed my hair, i told him stop and begain crying, he told me to shut up and started pushing my head down, pulling my hair telling me get on my knees. Once i was he opend his fly with his other hand and forced me to give him oral. He kept repeating that "You like it,your a little fag". He then said fag boys also like thi to, he then pulled on my hair for me to stand up. He turned me around and undid my pants then pulling them down. he put one hand over my mouth then started to rape me. I started crying, with his hand over my mouth he started feeling my tears, he told me stop stop being a whinyn little bitch, faggots like this. When he was finally finished with me he told me that if i tell people, people will call me a faggot and he said it was my fault cause i liked it. He left me thee crying, i was confused,dazed i don't even remember going back to class. I remember telling my teacher i was crying because i slipped on the floor. It has been 14 years and i still have thoughts and can still see it like it was yesterday, telling this has helped me not hold it inside anymore. Thanks for reading my story-Chris