#sexual abuse

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A Washington, D.C., cop and preacher has been locked up, charged with sexually abusing a teenage girl from his church.

The Metropolitan Police Department arrested Darrell Best, 45, on Monday night, two days after a 16-year-old congregant of God Of A Second Chance Ministry came forward as an alleged victim, police announced late Monday.

“She felt intimidated to the point that she couldn’t resist,” the girl’s father, who did not want to be identified, told WTTG-TV, the first to report the allegations.

Another church member, who is now 18, said that Best groomed her, offering to help her begin a career in law enforcement, then taking her to dinner in December 2014 and, later that night, to D.C. police headquarters, where she alleged he forced her to perform sexual acts, WTTG reported.

“I told him ‘No’ on multiple occasions, plenty of times,“ the woman told the TV station. “And he was armed and I didn’t know what he could’ve had up his sleeve.”

Best, a 25-year veteran of the force and the pastor of the Southern Ave. SE church, has been placed on administrative leave, The Washington Post reported.

Authorities collared Best in Largo, Md., and he’s currently in jail at the D.C. Department of Corrections, department officials said.

Darrell Best of God of Second Chance Ministries accused of raping 16 and 18 year-old girls in Washington DC in December 2014.

Best noted the charges “are only allegations and when or if there is an appropriate time, I will comment further,” he said in a statement sent to WTTG. The station also quoted Best’s mother as saying that her son resigned his position at the church.

 The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back of

The “don’t rape” series. Rape is never an option. If they don’t ask for consent, then you back off. You are never entitled to sex with another human being.


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In a series of postspublished on a Nate Pann blog under the username “Please Help Us,” a woman identifying herself as Lee Jung-hee has accused her husband of abuse and rape over the last 20 years, as well as forcing her and their two American-born sons into prostitution for over 10 years.

The Pann blog posts, the first of which was published on June 20, have gone viral among netizens. On Tuesday, Lee and her two sons uploaded three videos to YouTube asking for help and emphasizing that their accusations against their father, whom they called a “devil,” were true.

Wearing surgical masks, sunglasses and hats, the family implored netizens to spread the word about their dire situation. In the video, the two sons reveal that they have attempted to sue over 30 people who had continuously raped them, but claim that the police have been unable to help due to their father’s influence. They also mention that their father has been making efforts to censor any reports about their abuse in Korean media.

“We are running away from our father because he is currently and consistently chasing us, like a coyote chasing a rabbit,” one of the sons says in a video. “None of this is a lie, we are telling the truth.”

“My children were never able to express what they were going through as they were growing up,” Lee writes in her June 24 post. “Now they are old enough to speak. … Give all the punishment to me, and let my children be free of that. They did not do anything wrong, and they have lived truly terrible lives.”

Their story has recently gone viral under#HelpJungHeeLee on South Korean social media and news sites, as well as on Western ones such as Reddit. Some commenters have expressed skepticism regarding the claims made by Lee and her sons, as there is no confirmation from major news outlets or the South Korean government. Lee also did not name her husband in any of her blog posts or videos, although some netizens have floated around an unconfirmed name.

Read full article here.

my ex caused me a great deal of trauma in relationship :( i’m corrupted and dirty bc of him

The iconic black censorship band has come to symbolize outdated moral shock, to the extent that we primarily understand it now as a gag prop for Halloween costumes and mock-1950s tchotchke in the West. But in Turkey, the media still embraces its original use: under sensational headlines about sexual abuse, such as “He was found not guilty after he impregnated a 15-year-old girl,” the band covers…

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Fun fact: When prison rape is included in statistics (which mind you is still rape) men get raped more than women.

Serious discussion regarding sexual assault is about to take place on this post. If you wish to partake, please do. I’m really looking for serious opinions about this matter. If anyone has opposing opinions, please remain respectful. I know this is a controversial topic, but I am not trying to start an argument.
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So I’ve noticed there comes a point in almost any close friendship where sex life tends to be discussed. Most common question is
“So when did you lose your virginity?”
Or
“How many people have you been with?”
Now some may consider these questions intrusive, but for the sake of this discussion lets say you have a close enough friendship that this kind of question is ok.

What if your first time was non-consensual , or you have had multiple non-consensual experiences, and your first time consenually wasn’t until years later? How would you respond? How would you respond to the number of partners you’ve had?

jwmarsten:


A story of growth and healing over a scarred and painful past. reblogging and liking is appropriate if you choose to. A mix of healthy and less. Content Warning for childhood sexual abuse and gas-lighting, among other things. Content exclaimer for love of self, positive growth, apologies, love, and sweet nature drawings.

HI IM //////// BUT YOU MIGHT KNOW ME AS /////.
THIS IS WHAT MY MIND LOOKS LIKE MOST OF THE TIME.

I have
APHANTASIA:
The inability to form mental images of objects that are not present.
James: I’m unable to count sheep, pull up a mental castle, or visualize success. I just can’t access my visual imagination* while awake.

*Except during lucid dreams, PTSD flashes, and with great focus.

I also have
PROSOPAGNOSIA:
A neurological condition characterized by the inability to recognize the faces of familiar–

James: People make things really complicated, you know? I don’t feel human. I’m a dragon. An anything but a person. Just ask society. Just as Everyone.

This is me.
[A purple splotch about the size of a thumb.
I am purple.

I am not: 

 -A face.
-A face.
-A face.
How could I be when I can’t recognize old photos?

I write stories.
I am dyslexic.
I tell stories.
I am often tongue-tied, colloquially, not medically, my tongue connects just fine, it’s my neurons and their paths and the fires they set in the forest of my brain that lead to tangents even I’m lost on. [crossed out “I’m sorry, again”.]


[Image of a small child holding a teddy bear and a flashlight, very tiny against the writing.]

I will try to be brave and show you the past. Let you see what my mind’s eye won’t let me. Because [writing begins to become erratic] EVEN THOUGHT MY BRAIN FEELS BROKEN
it isn’t. It just needs a gentle reminder that I’m safe. It’s ok. I’m ok.

When I was young enough I still breastfed, I had to go to my Granny’s house–my Dad’s Mom– and to make up for the change, she gave me a bear.

[In cursive brown letters that connect to a bear]
Teddy
and a bottle.

[Next to the bear] Love at 1st sight!

[To the left] As I write this, Teddy is on my dresser watching.

He gives the best hugs. When I got him, he was Bigger than me! I loved to hug him tight and tell him what I wanted to hear.

Teddy: “I love you so much. You give the best hugs. I love when you play with me, and I really like your stories.”

Granted, I was like, 2, so I probably actually said “I love you. You are good.”

DYSLEXIA:
A general term for disorders that involve difficulty in learning to read or interpret words, letters, and other symbols, but that do not affect general intelligence.

[Image of a sleeping woman drawn in blue on a couch next to a little child and a teddy bear on the floor, looking at an open book in confusion.]

When I was little my brain was bad but I was a Good Girl so my mom homeschooled me so I wouldn’t be called FREAK, STUPID, LOSER!

Despite my [erratic emphasis] BAD BRAIN, I learned how to read, write, and talk “correctly”. All I had to do was [in grey ink “HURT SO BADLY” is crossed out in normal purple ink with “Hurt a bit”] when I read.
Mom told me reading made me smart like her.
It let me talk to people.
It let me have people.
Sometimes, I pretended I was one.

[Image of a small faceless child holding an open book in one hand and a teddy bear in the other.]

[Kroger image from the grocery chain, where the capital ‘K’ loops over the ‘o’ to meet the lowercase 'g’ and its tail.]
Once at 4am on a grocery run I said “The letters 'K’ and 'G’ look like they’re hugging, mom!”

Mom: “You think everything looks like it’s hugging.”

Once at 4am when I was in bed reading, I heard my door knob rattle. I turned off the lamp and held my friend tight.

I was reading a scary story.
A monster clearly wanted to eat me but I’ve locked my doors, I was Safe.

[Loosely drawn map in mostly grey that shows three doors to the bedroom, a bed along the north wall, and a door labeled MONSTER in black ink along the tip right.]

Keep reading

feminismandomegle:People with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have feminismandomegle:People with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have feminismandomegle:People with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have

feminismandomegle:

People with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have existed without dying, genitals withered husks on their bodies.


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People with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have existed without dyPeople with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have existed without dyPeople with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have existed without dy

People with no sex drives and/or no desire to engage in sex apparently never have existed without dying, genitals withered husks on their bodies.


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queerascat:

content warning: non-graphic description of a questionable consent situation; non-graphic talk of sex, rape & trauma; self-gaslighting.

this is the third and final post in a series of posts in which i’m writing about my personal experiences with sexual abuse / violence and consent issues. the first post on sexual abuse / violence can be found here. the second post on consent issues and asexuality can be found here. this post is about something that happened during a past relationship in which consent is / was questionable and the ramifications of it.


consent. not a topic that i’m at all well informed about, but about which i’m writing a lot at the moment as i attempt to unpack and navigate things from my past that i have up until this point avoided doing.

as i mentioned in my previous post, i’ve been in two long-term relationships spanning 9 years in total, 5 of which were sexually active and all of which happened before i came out to myself as asexual (among other things). during the first relationship, something happened that has resulted in me now questioning what even ‘counts’ when it comes to consent.

in a relationship (like far too many) where sex had been consented to multiple times to the point of becoming assumed; where actual yeses and noes are no longer said because attention is no longer paid to asking for / giving consent at all, but rather to respecting when assumed consent is retracted… in that context, if i didn’t act on my ‘responsibility’ to explicitly retract my consent by verbally saying “no,” does that mean i automatically consented…?

how “active” and “enthusiastic” does consent have to be to ‘count’? and once one has consented to sex, how “active” or “enthusiastic” does retracting that consent have to be to ‘count’?

i don’t expect anyone to actually answer those questions. for now, it’s enough for me to just be able to think aloud by blabbering into the void that is the internet. as usual.

Keep reading

queerascat:

content warning: mentions of sex and abuse; talk of consent issues.

this is the second of what has now become three posts that i’m writing about my personal experiences with sexual abuse / violence and consent issues, the first of which can be found here. this post focuses on how my ability to consent may or may not have been affected by not knowing about the existence of asexuality prior to consenting to sex in past relationships.


even though there are those who insist that consent is as simple as “yes” or “no,” that there is no gray area involved– you either consented or you didn’t– for lots of people consent can be more complicated than that.

in my time on Tumblr, various posts have come across my dashboard on the topic of consent and/or agency, specifically in the context of being asexual. sometimes when i read one of those posts, some part of me is screaming and on the verge of panicking until i close the tab in my browser– but not before ‘liking’ or bookmarking the post because i tell myself that i’ll come back to it later. “later” because i don’t want to deal with it “right now.” (read: “ever.”)

well, here’s me attempting to sit down and deal with stuff, finally.

as someone who has been in two long-term relationships spanning 9 years in total, 5 of which were sexually active and all of which happened before i came out to myself as asexual (among other things), having my ability to consent or even the quality (for lack of a better word) of my consent be brought into question (literally or hypothetically) makes me feel some kinda way.

that said, i have no interest in criticizing any of the existing consent models, nor in adding to them with a model of my own. i’m just here to think aloud, blabbering into the void that is the internet. as usual.

Keep reading

 Jill Dudley appeared outwardly to be the perfect wife and mother but behind closed doors, she lived Jill Dudley appeared outwardly to be the perfect wife and mother but behind closed doors, she lived

Jill Dudley appeared outwardly to be the perfect wife and mother but behind closed doors, she lived a life of depravity. Her husband, John Lewis, suddenly died in a car accident just days after she gave birth to their twin boys, Marcus and Alex. Jill went on to marry a man twenty years her senior, Jack Dudley. Jack was a very strict man who evidently preferred his own children with Jill over the twin boys, who he often treated as servants. 

The two boys were forced to sleep outside in the shed as opposed to inside the family home. Jack was brutal towards them both but he was nothing compared to Jill, who began sexually abusing the twins when they were just young boys. This progressed to Jill inviting her male friends over to sexually abuse the twins as well as herself. Marcus and Alex confessed what their mother had done to them after she passed away and they found numerous explicit photos of themselves as children in her home along with a numerous sex toys. 

The brothers went on to write a book about their abhorrent upbringing, Tell Me Who I Am.



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Sorry for not using your ask box, I’m just super uncomfortable doing this with my blog name attached because I don’t want to get any unwanted messages or attention. 

Don’t get me wrong, the whole story of Caitlin Jenner stealing her daughter’s clothing is gross and definitely shouldn’t be played off as some cute, funny story. But the assumption she was doing it for sexual gratification and calling it “sexual abuse” rubs me the wrong way. Was it a violation of boundaries? Yes. But as someone who was sexually abused growing up, I feel like calling it that is somewhat belittling to sexual abuse victims.

And while it could be autogynephilic, that doesn’t seem like a label to attach to someone unless they outright admit that they get sexual gratification from “dressing like a woman” (I use quotes because there’s no such thing) or whatever.

The only case I would consider this to be sexual abuse is if she stole her daughter’s underwear/bra, which doesn’t seem to be the case. While stealing regular clothing is creepy and weird, it’s not really sexual in nature inherently. I feel like the label sexual abuse should be used more carefully than that.

Cheers!

Dear reader, thanks for your note. I am very sorry about what was done to you. I hope your healing goes well!

The last thing I want to do on this blog is use language in a way which minimizes the very real damage of sexual abuse and rape. However, I have to politely disagree with your analysis here.

Men, pre-transition trans women, and transitioning trans women who secretly try on their female partner’s, roommate’s, children’s, or mother’s clothes almost always do so for sexual reasons. If the reason wasn’t sexual, they would much more likely just play “dress up” with the woman in question. Seriously!

If you think Bruce wasn’t trying on his daughter’s panties (and possibly bras, though even now most 10 year olds don’t wear bras that I know of), sorry but you’re just not facing reality. Read about Richard Sharpe. (Note: his daughters accused him in court of masturbating in their underwear. That’s where I got that fact from.)

And if you’re still uncertain about this, talk to some trans women who are able to be candid about thing. Or, read the voices of trans women that are archived here. Or here. Or here.

Best wishes.

“you’re useless, empty parts”It’s been a few years now. I know I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, and

“you’re useless, empty parts”

It’s been a few years now. I know I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, and yet I still hear those words ringing in my ears.


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