I’m a Straight Man Who Was Brutally Raped By My Male Teammates

Forced against his will

gay rape forced

Male rape isn’t a joking matter.

By: Travis in Nebraska

I’m just going to lay it out there. When I was in college, I was forced by a group of guys to preform sexual acts on them against my will.

Yes, I was raped.

Even after all these years, I’m still affected by what happened.

As I sit in front of my laptop, it’s hard to believe I am writing this out. I’d be a liar if I didn’t say that I’m also anxious because I fear my rapists will somehow read this and come after me.

But I think in order for me to move past what happened, I need to tell my story.

Before continuing, I want to give credit where credit is due. You see I would never be typing this had it not been for my older brother – a man that happens to be gay.

male on male rape college

Not to long ago, he sent me an article that appeared on this website about male rape and the military. After reading it and giving it lots of thought, I decided to “man up” and tell my story in the hope that others might benefit.

Related: Male on male rape in the military

I’ll give you a little background on me (warts and all) and then explain what happened. Forewarning, if you are looking for some hot erotic story, this ain’t going to be it.

Amazon has lots of books and short reads that are mostly non-fiction …  if that’s what you’re looking for.

But if you want to know the real deal about what it’s like to be raped by another man (or in my case men), I’m about to tell it to you. And it’s not what you might think.

Apologies in advance for any grammar issues by the way. I’m not the best at writing.

About Me

I’m in my 30’s and live in Nebraska. Ive got a girlfriend and we’re engaged to be married. Like a lot of guys, I have different hobbies. For me, it’s competitive sports, woodworking and hiking.

gay raped in college
Forced against my will

I’m telling you all of this because the sports part mentioned above directly relates to what happened. You see nearly 12-years ago, I played football at a military college. In fact, all of the guys who attended this school did. It was a requirement.

The administrators running the school made it a policy because they felt it helped to build teamwork and trust. They also mandated vigorous physical exercise, something that is pretty standard for most ROTC schools.

Honestly, I didn’t have an issue any of that. I liked sports and have ever since I was a little kid. Hitting the weights five times a week, plus plyometric exercises, was right up my alley.

Part of the reason I enrolled in this particular college was because of their athletic program. That and the school had a good reputation for military officer training.

But at my college, the guys took sports – and winning – to a whole new level. Honestly, it was ridiculous. I’ll save you all of the jock talk and just cut to it.

College Football

My position was running back. I’m shorter than most players, standing only at 5’10. Back then, my weight hovered around 190 lbs., which is a much different size than you see from guys who go on to the NFL.

But because I was lean and scrappy, that’s the position the coach assigned me. I may not have been huge but I was fast. And over the course of time, I had proven myself enough to get put on the first string.

When we won games, it was all high fives from most of my teammates. But when we lost, a couple of the guys could be complete assholes – and bullies.

Losing the Game

I won’t go into too much detail here except to say that in the fall of 2004, during my senior year (I was 22) we were competing at an away game for a spot in the regional championships.

We almost won. But that was never to be because during a handoff play from our QB, I dropped the ball.

Yep, that’s right – I fumbled.

All of this leads to my story.

The night we lost the game, most of us took to our dorm rooms. If you’ve ever played competitive sports, you know how brutal a loss can be.

And if your team thinks you’re the one who “blew it” for them, the retaliation can be harsh.

I could tell a few of the guys on my team were pissed at me. On the bus ride back to campus, nobody sat next to me. Not even my best buddy.

I was that toxic.

As we got close to our school, I overheard one of our wide receivers and a cornerback whispering. While I couldn’t make everything out, one thing I definitely heard was “f*gg*t” when they talked about me.

Side note: This wasn’t the first time I was called that name. In fact, it was common place for some of the guys to speak that way.

Related: I was gay shamed by my high school quarterback

It’s not an excuse. But it does tell you something about the environment. And I’d be a total liar if I didn’t admit to using words like that too – even though at the time I knew full well my own brother was gay.

But back to what happened.

Things were intense. The only person who spoke to me as I exited the bus was the coach. And even what he said wasn’t all that helpful. “We can’t win every time. Don’t beat yourself up son.”

**

gay raped in college
I was just trying to keep a low profile in my dorm

Raped in my Dorm

So fast forward to later that night. Everyone was still talking about the loss that happened earlier that day. Because I knew I was about as popular as a porcupine in a balloon factory, I decided to stay in my dorm.

I could hear some of the guys hooting and hollering down the hall. They also were drinking; something that was completely forbidden on campus (it could get you expelled).

I don’t know the exact time but at some point after 11pm, I heard a knock on my door. It caught me by surprise and jolted me from the bed. Remember, I was trying to keep a low profile.

When I got up to see who it was, I saw four of my fellow teammates. All of them were around my age, except for one guy who was closer to 24.

I’m not going to use their names here – not even fake ones. I will say that two were defensive lineman and the other two played offense.

It was obvious they were drunk because when one of them asked if I was alone, his speech was slurred. “Yeah, it’s just me. My roommate is off campus. What’s up?” I asked.

At first, it seemed like they wanted to just give me crap – which isn’t all that unusual from guys who play on teams together.

I knew that at some point, I was going to catch the brunt of anger from my teammates. I just never figured it was going to happen that night.

I told the guys how terrible I felt about the loss and how much I knew it sucked for everyone. But as the conversation continued, their behavior grew more hostile.

“Why did you fumble that ball f—ggot? You f**cked it up for all of us!” said one of them. And that’s just one example of how the conversation went with them. It was a one-way street and I couldn’t get in a word edgewise.

“Their behavior grew more hostile”

After about 5-minutes, I had my fill of their sh*t. All I wanted to do was get out of there. But when I made my way to leave the dorm, one of them blocked it with his entire body.

Somebody from behind bopped one of my ears. When I turned around, another guy bopped my other ear. All I could hear was ringing.

Suddenly, one of them shut the door and turned the lock. I still remember it like yesterday.

“Click”.

That’s when things went from bad to worse.

Extremely drunk and full of rage, one of the guys kicked my shin, which caused me to go crashing to the ground. I can’t describe to you terrified I was – or how much pain I was in.

Honestly, I thought the four of them were there to kill me. That may sound dramatic to you but in that moment, I seriously thought it was going to happen.

“Since you play like a girl, we’re going to treat you like one!” said the older guy.

Before I knew it, they forcefully rustled me onto my stomach. When I yelled for help, one of them pulled off both of my socks, balled them up super tight and shoved it into my mouth. I can still taste it now as I write it.

Everything that follows is a bit blurry.

Two guys used their knees to pin my shoulders down. The other two were behind me, holding my legs with a heavy grip.

I’m not going to go into specifics here. All I’ll say here is that three of them took turns anally raping me with brutal force. They were like wild jackels.

The one guy who didn’t penetrate me was no saint. That’s because he forced me to do oral on him while the others were behind me. And he also threatened to “bash” my brains in if I so much as bit on his junk.

By the time they had finished, I was in excruciating pain and bleeding from my butt. They didn’t care – not even a little.

male-on-male-rape

The entire incident lasted no more than 20 minutes. But it was the longest 20 minutes of my f*cking life.

I’m here to tell you that when you are raped, it’s almost like being in a slow motion movie. Kind of like stepping outside of yourself. My therapist calls this depersonalizing – like you’re not attached to reality.

That’s what it was like for me during the worst parts of it. I would later find out in my survivors of male rape support group that this is a common experience.

You may be wondering what happened after the guys left. Well, I’ll tell you. Once they finished what they set out to do, they theatened that if I snitched, I’d regret it.

And then they left, leaving me on the floor in a ball of stinging pain. I had to push the socks out of my mouth with my younger.

The next day, during formation and the ritualistic march to the mess hall, not one of them looked at me. Our company commander asked why I was limping. “Just a leg cramp sir!” I lied.

I wish I could tell you that I went to school administrators and told on them. I didn’t. Even today, I’m not sure that I would because the culture of that school doesn’t seem to have changed.

Related: Gay man group raped at a bathhouse

It is my understanding that hazing still takes place there, which if you ask me is a gateway to other sexually aggressive behaviors, including assault and rape.

It happens more than you might think and not just in college. It happens in high school too. See this post from the Daily Beast as just one example. And let’s not forget that the military still struggles with this issue, according to some research studies.

**

It’s been 12-years since I was raped. I’m trying to live my life the best that I can. As a man, I can tell you that once something like this happens to you, it changes your life.

In my case, I felt totally robbed of my masculinity. I also questioned my own sexuality and went through a period where I blamed myself for what happened.

Had it not been for my brother, one of the few people who know about the rape, I probably would have gone insane or tried to hurt myself.

If you can believe it, three of the four guys who raped me tried to “friend” me on Facebook a few years ago. How exactly do you respond to your rapists on Facebook? For me, the choice was easy. I blocked them.

If you have ever experienced man on man rape, I’d like to share with you a book that helped me. It’s called Victims No Longer and it’s all about surviving sexual abuse.

In my case, the abuse happened later in life and not when I was a child. I don’t pretend to know what it is like to be violated as a little kid. But I do know something about what it feels like to be gang raped by a group of guys as an adult.

You think as a man I could have fought them off. Somehow got away, right? I wish. They overpowered me. Thats what happens when men are raped. But it’s taken me this long to accept that.

If you need to find a support group in your area, I highly recommend visiting the RAINN website. They’ve got tons of resources to choose from plus a bunch of survivor stories.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

PS: I did end up joining the military but separated after doing four years.


  • Mat

    I’m sorry to hear that this happened and the effect it had on you. I hope you do know that what those guys did to you was 100% wrong.

  • jayishere

    Travis, man that’s fucked up…it brought up a surge of pentup rage deeply seeded in me for my own memories of traumatizing rape at the tender age of 4…that experience you say you can’t talk about because it wasn’t yours… well, I can give you the sketchy details that started coming back into my awareness at the onset of puberty.
    In my case it was the good well trusted A+ high school babysitting teen boy my mother trusted me to whenever I was an inconvenience to her social life as a medical professional. My absent dad was a traveling white collar man. It all began with this little game of ass grabbing, only, my role was to grab his crotch (both clothed) can’t precisely tell how long or often it happened, just the onset of the activity frozen in my mind. He “took care”of me at his home, as my mother went off to her emergency room rounds. I can’t recall how often he took care of me, just the moments that are frozen in my mind, which I re-live in photographic memory…
    One day we are in his room and he’s got these model aircraft, cars and other cool stuff. Then he asks me if I would like to have any one…yes!..I must have answered…he promises that he will hand me any one I picked…if I let him pull down my shorts and let him sit me onto his lap. Down we went to his mother’s bedroom, which had a TV set…I remember not wanting him to pull down my shorts too much, so he would see me naked, I know that for sure… I had not seen his penis, and didn’t see it before or during the penetration…he started pushing something into by anal canal and it hurt enough that I was complaining out loud…so much so that an older nexdoor neighbor of his heard and called on to him from outside the room window, asking what was going on…wtf…I say today. Well, he must have had an explanation that she found satisfactory…so the rape went on, with no more pain. Eventually, as I sat on his lap, he emptied inside me and I jumped off and ran to the bathroom…I remember wiping wetness…though he had urinated on me. Then he shows up fully nude…and for the first time ever I get to see an adult penis and all that hair…how weird…yet mesmerizing…that picture imprinted in my mind for as long as I have lived.

    As I sit on the toilet he asks me to let him put it into my mouth…I vehemently refused and…after having wiped that “piss” wetness from my bum, I was determined to not have that happen in my mouth…those are the most dramatic parts I recall…and one more that destroyed my sense of trust in all people I interact with, particularly people with authority…he refused to stand by his promise to give me the model I picked, or any other, as a matter of fact. Motherfucker…but that may have save me, because what would have happened if he had done so, what else would I have been coaxed into…

    I don’t recall any other event after…only that knock on our front door, with Mother answering and opening the door to find him standing there asking if I could come out to “play”…I went into an insane tantrum mode and refused to get out of the house…after that my Mother never again placed me there, neither I remember ever seeing him again(we only lived at that address 2 years)

    Now listen to this one…

    I told my Mother about what had happen after I got married(28), and her face turned ash…shocked and later controlled rage…It turned out this young men had also become a physician who had hospital rights at the same institution as my mom…she had, often, interacted with him as colleagues…she was retired by then…that’s crazy shit.

    I have dealt with it, by being able to tell the story…what remains is the pentup anger of the suffering and confusion I endured during and after puberty, which extended and compounded during dating and after marriage. My whole life…that experience has impacted. Please, watch your children, if you ever have one or a few, do not trust anyone, much less a teenager.

    That experience ruined what should have been a normal childhood, and it distorted my views about sex and pleasure. I got married to my first GF and went on with my life, but those visions remain…particularly the penis so close to my face, that pubic hair, like I am imprinted to it…in a sick kind of way. Good thing is, I don’t wanna bj one…

    Like Prince’s song, I blame my Mother.