Call me Henry. I'm a 62 year old disabled man and I recovered the memories of my abuse ten years ago during therapy. I've never spoken of it to anyone but my therapist and I'm hoping that telling it here will be a cathartic experience for me.
My father was an alcoholic and a womanizer. When I was 5, my older sister became critically ill with a lung disease, and my parents had to take her to the Mayo Clinic to have her lung removed. They couldn't find anyone to watch me and my other sister for the two weeks they would be in Rochester. Finally, Dad got one of his sluts to come stay with us. I'm guessing that she was about 25.
The first night she was there set the pattern for the two weeks. She'd get drunk on whiskey in the evening, then make my sister go to bed upstairs. She'd start by pulling my pants down and fondling and sucking my penis. She'd make me drink whiskey until I got sick. Then she'd take the rest of my clothes off and take hers off. I was 5, I knew exactly nothing about sex. I thought she was trying to kill me. She'd sit on me and rub her vagina on me, or she'd make me lick her vagina and she'd tighten her legs around my head so I couldn't breathe. When I cried, she'd slap my face until I stopped.
I never told my parents, and my sister didn't either. I quickly blotted it from my mind, where it stayed buried for 40 years.