When I was 14 or so, I was walking along a path along some railroad tracks about five miles from home. We lived out in the country. It was a secluded area. A guy who was probably in his mid-20s was riding his bike along the path. He asked me if I wanted a ride back to the road. I was tired and said sure. When he “helped” me onto the bike he grabbed me in the crotch to lift me onto the bike and then held onto me. I was just confused and stunned. Now looking back on it I feel fortunate he didn’t have the nerve to be more aggressive.
I also remember a male babysitter when I was about eight years old exposing himself to me and my brother. I only remember making the comment that he was really big. My older sister says he molested us too. I have no memory of that.
I was 13 years old, a dishwasher at a restaurant, and it was my first job. I loved my job, I had been going to the restaurant every Tuesday since I could remember with my mom. We knew the owner and his family, we knew the chefs, waitresses, and cooks. Then one night, the owner became way too drunk. He kissed one waitress and grabbed another by the butt. Then he came to me. First, he uncomfortably made me hug him in the hallway, and then later came and groped me from behind, all parts a 13-year-old should never have felt. I never did anything, I didn’t tell my mom until I was 19 when we went to a new restaurant in a different city, and we had to leave because that old owner was now a chef there.
I moved from Maryland to Niagara Falls when I retired in 2012. The house is wonderfully secure, and I look forward to being here the rest of my life.
One of the 10 windows in my house was open a bit to air out the guest room, and I had not engaged the little prongs on the upper sash to prevent it from being opened from the outside.
I have a propensity for staying up too late, sitting at my laptop in the kitchen. One night, I got to bed after midnight and, as usual, finished reading the daily paper. I noted the time at exactly 1:30 a.m. when I turned out the light to sleep.
Within a minute, I heard rustling. I assumed it was out on the front porch, then realized it was coming from the guest room next to mine. I saw a short man in full silhouette against the yellow window curtain across the room. I shouted.
He came around to my side of the antique double bed and leapt full-sprawl on top of me. That made me angry. I shouted for him to get off me. He rolled off to the other side of the bed beginning immediately to get between my legs.
What little reading I had done in the 1970’s about the realities of rape came back to me clearly. Locked my ankles across one another. He could not penetrate the block either with his groin or his hands. He started to touch a breast. I realized I’d better lock my arms across my chest, because having anyone touch my breasts is too emotionally intimate. He stopped trying to touch me there.
He then took my hand and directed me to masterbate him. I acquiesced in the masterbation for a bit and his penis became erect. I withdrew and resumed the lock across my chest. He spent TWO AND A HALF HOURS mostly trying to use my body to reach ejaculation.
The man had obviously showered before coming to my house. He smelled fresh and he was perfectly clean. No sign of tobacco, alcohol, or marijuana. He wore a navy T-shirt, no underwear, and those long ugly nylon-ish basketball shorts with elastic waist. He’d clearly planned the whole thing.
He said very little, always directly in my ear, “Where your purse? Where your purse?” Very deep, very soft. Although at one point I had a long opportunity to study the profile of his face against the street light coming through the yellow curtain, I recognized neither his face nor his voice.
But I’d recognize that torso again: He had two long scars, one very straight and “clean” directly from the naval toward his genitals, the other parallel but off to one side a bit and with a rough scar. His arms were distinctly muscular and well-defined. He was a little taller than I. I still did not recognize him.
When he left, I called 9-1-1, and report an attempted rape. He was arrested on Tuesday morning outside the house of my lawn man, where he was reporting for work. He never made bail. He pled guilty. I hope I never see him again. But if we cross paths, I’m going to be so damned angry, I may not contain myself.
So I work as a nightlife photographer and I really feel that I have to get a few things off my chest! My job involves me taking pictures of people having a good time, but often on a night I will have to deal with a few assholes! You would think a girl could get used to this sort of thing or just take things as a joke, and I do some of the time, but when you are constantly being chatted up or kissed on the cheek or whatever, it does get rather soul destroying. All I want to do is my job and carry on so I can pay bills! I am there to take photos, not hand out my number! Fair enough people are drunk but it gets so tiring, I am a photographer and an artist and not a piece of meat! Every night, it’s a constant battle, as someone would grab me from behind or try to kiss me or ask my number or pinch my bum or tell me that I would look hotter with dark hair, or ask me what I’m doing after work or give me compliments that may seem all well and good but they just make me feel uncomfortable! this constant sort of harassment from the many drunk men of Newcastle just makes me feel like an empty vessel, or like an object; like I have no soul and I’m just there for the entertainment! Why can’t people just have a normal conversation? I don’t mind normal conversations, in fact, that is a much more welcome social interaction! There are few times I have had to literally push people away because they got a bit close! I’m only 5-foot-3 but I think I’m a lot tougher than I look, although I’m always terrified that something will be taken the wrong way if I lash out.
Got my butt grabbed at Slim’s. Unfortunately, there were so many people around, I didn’t even see who it was, but watch out, ladies.
I was walking on the sidewalk and two teenagers were approaching on their bicycles. One reached out and grabbed my chest and biked away quickly before I could react.
I was visiting Countryfile Live (I think it’s a bit like the state fairs across the pond) with my parents – I’m a 19-year-old girl. While dad used the facilities, mum and I watched a demonstration of dogs herding ducks around a cute little obstacle course, and this old guy (I’m talking 70+ here, old enough to know better) started getting closer and closer. Fair enough, it’s a popular event and the crowd is growing!
Then I realize I’m holding my handbag in front of me and therefore that steadily moving touch on my backside can only be a hand. I was so panicked, I’d been lucky enough not to have experienced this kind of nonsense before, and I just froze. My mum (greatest mum in the world, fight me) noticed my expression of ‘heeeelp’ and switched places with me. Weirdly enough he wasn’t too interested in groping someone who looked old enough to drink, dirty perv!
This happened a few months ago, it was around 6pm and I was walking home from work. I had my headphones in and didn’t hear anyone approaching me. There wasn’t anyone else on the street as far as I could tell. Suddenly I felt someone firmly grab my ass and the a young boy, probably no older than 10 or 11 running off giggling. I cannot believe that people are teaching children that young that it is okay to grope a woman in the street like that. I was left shaking and on the verge of tears the whole way home.
I was standing in Penn Station, NYC – waiting to get my train out of the city, I was looking at the screen to see which platform my train would arrive on. It was very crowded and hot, I was wearing leggings and a white t-shirt. People were piling through the station and suddenly a man from behind reached and squeezed my ass in a very aggressive and sexual manner. I was shocked and I turned around to see who had done it but it was so busy there was no sure way to tell. I spoke to two cops who tried to help me identify the man but as I was not 100% sure of who did it, there wasn’t much they could do. I was escorted by the police to my platform so that I was not followed.
It was very scary and I was very upset and had never experienced anything like that before. I regularly experience cat calls and verbal harassment, but never anything physical.
I am shocked at the way anyone could think that it is ok to reach out and touch somebody like that, it is disgraceful and incredibly disrespectful. I should not have to fear standing in a public space – I should not have to worry about being inappropriately touched.
I have lived in this area for years and have been out late at night a significant amount of time since I used to work nights as a pedicabber downtown. I have been harassed verbally and physically numerous times at work but I was always in a position to end an interaction by kicking a fare off my cab or simply riding away. Last night I was groped while taking a walk in my neighbourhood. Somehow this was a much more violating experience.
I was only about two blocks from home when I encountered a man passing me in the opposite direction on the sidewalk. It was late and I was alert but as we passed one another he casually reached out and squeezed my left breast. Surprised by the casualness and shaken by the violation I turned and yelled something like “What the F- dude!?” He continued walking without looking back. I called my fiancé, who was at home, and he came to meet me as I walked the suddenly unsafe feeling two blocks home.
I have been bothered by the fact that I felt fearful and violated in this situation and not as much in the past. Now I see it is the unknown factor of what that man intended, what he could have done after that caused me such fear. Also, now I have a deep sadness that the neighbourhood I have felt safe in for so long suddenly seems more sinister.