leaving the hospital in the morning & i finally get to go back to wales & i can’t wait i rly can’t - the belgians i’ve met have been wonderful [for the most part] but the rape has me panicking even seeing the roads and the buildings

This one may be long...

Subject: BNHA, Dabi aka Touya Todoroki + Enji Todorki, Fuyumi Todoroki, Natuso Todoroki, and a little Shouto if you squint

Title: House Party Bully 3 (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, pregnancy, bisexual, lactation, obsession, possessive behavior, bullying, stalking, blackmail, crying

Still shaking from Enji's "inspection," Touya whisked you out of the house and pushed you into his car. You could barely process what was happening when he tore off away from the house. The overpowering smell of weed grounded you, forcing you into reality. The very same reality where you'd just been split open by your bully's father's cock because you were pregnant. You glanced over at Touya who was staring straight ahead at the road, the car going a little too fast and his his knuckles white from their grip on the steering wheel.

Just what had Enji said to force Touya into inviting you over? Granted a man like Enji must have kept his family on a tight leash, a leash tight enough to keep a record of how much weed Touya smoked and when.

The silence in the car was broken when Touya said, "Do you think he hurt the baby?" His voice was tight as his grip on the steering wheel.

Of all the things to focus on with what just happened in his house and his priority wasn't even you. You snorted and turned away from him. Of course he only cared about the unborn fetus inside you. To him and his family you were simply a liability for their reputation and a walking womb that needed to be fed. "Fuck off. I want to go home."

He grunted.

With a new wave of fear slowly coiling in your stomach, you realized Touya was in fact taking you home. He knew where you lived. He'd known where you lived all along. How many opportunities had he had to make your life hell outside of school? How many times had he driven here and parked where he could watch you as he struggled with the desire to burst your tiny bubble of peace?

He parked in front of your house and waited for you to exit the car before he made for your front door. He let himself inside with a snide, "You really gotta learn to lock the door."

Slowly, you followed, legs still shaking as you made your way inside. "How long have you known where I live?"

Touya was in your kitchen, helping himself to the Chex Mix you kept on the counter. "It wasn't hard. Just did some reverse image searching and compared them to Google Maps. Plus you didn't hide your location on SnapChat. By the way, don't accept friend requests from strangers or people who're friends with people who hate you."

Hot anger sizzled on your skin. "I didn't ask how," you said from the door way, "I asked when."

That got him stop. "Does it matter? You've always been mine." He shoved a handful of pretzels into his mouth. "You're mine to fuck with when I please." He swallowed. "Or fuck when I please."

"I don't belong to you," you snarled. How dare he. He'd done enough damage to your life: destroying your reputation at school, invading the only peace you had, raping you at his party and then knocking you up before he let his dad have a turn. Fuck him. You didn't belong to anyone and especially not him.

Touya laughed. A genuine, deep, terrible laugh. He made his way across the room, heavy shoes creating a steady beat of thunder as he towered over you. A slender finger poked into your stomach, right where Enji had pointed before, the nail sharp as it pressed into your skin. "We may not have had anything physical keeping us together before," he spat, "but now we do. With my kid growing in your belly, no one can deny you're mine. Not when he's growing. Not when he's teething on your tits. And especially when he introduces himself with my name."

You pushed him away. "Get away from me. Get out of my apartment."

Touya stared at you for a moment, then walked back into the kitchen and scribbled his number on your calendar. "Call me when you want your car back. Or when you miss me. Whichever comes first." And with that, he bumped his shoulder into you and got back into his car. That sinking feeling of fear returned as you realized your car was still at his house and you'd have to deal with his family alone.

*******************************************************

The next morning you dressed for school. It had been a long, tiring debate the night before if you should even go back. So much had happened in just a few weeks and you'd done your best to keep your head down and listen to the lectures, but now you were pregnant and without your car. You could always call Touya and have him bring it, but then you'd give in to what he wanted: you forced to rely on him, tying yourself further to his whims - marking you as his.

Instead you'd opted to summon an Uber, go to your classes and get home with no time in between to so much as look at the library. You steeled yourself and stepped outside only to see the car that almost hit you outside the Todoroki mansion sitting idly with the engine running.

Enji sat behind the wheel, cartoonishly large in comparison to the vehicle. When he saw you, he leaned over and opened the door. "Get in, I'm driving you to school."

And just how would that look with you showing up to school with your bully's father and the most feared professor on campus? Rumors would already be spreading about your absence and odd behavior. The moment someone guessed you were pregnant, and you started to show, any hope for a normal college life would be over with no hope of recovery. "No. Thanks."

You turned and pulled your phone out for the Uber, but then Enji said, "Your scholarship relies on you being a model student, doesn't it?"

You froze.

"An academic advisor isn't going to be too keen on letting you keep that money when you've been knocked up by a campus lowlife, even if his father is a respected member of the faculty." He patted the passenger seat. "And while I can't fix the fact that you're losing that scholarship, I can pay your tuition and medical bills. Delivering and raising a baby isn't cheap. So get in the car before you walk away with nothing."

He was right. Of course he was fucking right. This was Enji Todoroki, the man who has his entire family turning a blind eye to his debaucherous acts. He wasn't going to let you go even if you died, not when his grandkid was growing inside you. With as much of your dignity you could gather, you climbed into the car and let Enji drive you to campus.

"After your last class," he said, "come to my office. You have an appointment." When you didn't respond he added, "For the baby." He had said he'd be footing the medical bills. Did that mean Enji was going to be there for everything? The pap smear, birth, and recovery? You shivered. Touya knew his father was going to be overprotective and manipulative. He knew his overbearing nature would have you crawling back to him, back to an overbearing man you were at least familiar with.

When Enji parked at the school, you hopped out and started walking toward your first class. “Thanks for the ride.” You tried to put as much distance between you and him as possible, but Enji was large and fast. He caught up to you easily, keeping silent stride and never leaving your side. That remained true for the rest of the day. Between classes you caught his eye, and when he didn’t have a class to teach, he followed you or worked on his computer outside your classroom, just within eyesight.

Rumors were already beginning to start, you could feel it, people glancing at you and Enji. They probably thought you were either sleeping with him or you’d grievenced him in some way. Hopefully they’d assume the latter. You'd rather people think you'd gotten caught for cheating than you tried to sleep your way to better grades.

This behavior continued for days. A week almost passed before you realized you hadn’t seen Touya. No bullying, only stares from your classmates and teachers, which was almost worse. You knew what to expect from Touya, you could blow him off and tell him to fuck off, and if he got too into it, sometimes your classmates would tell him to fuck off, too. But now you didn’t know what they were thinking, how they were judging you. You were alone except for Enji’s heavy gaze and now really did consider that you may be missing him.

After your last class, you knew better than to fight Enji on him taking you home, your car was still at his house after all, and he was stronger and faster. You climbed into his car and stared at the window, waiting to see the neighboring apartments and familiar street signs. They never came. Instead you recognized another set of houses, the same ones you’d parked in front of the night of the party. “Wait,” you said, “this isn’t the way to my apartment.”

“No, its not.” Enji agreed. “Its not proper for the future mother of my son’s child to be living alone in a run down apartment. You’ll be living, or at least spending most of your time, with us from now on.” Before you could protest, he tapped a heavy finger on a piece of paper that sat on the dashboard. You picked it up and nearly cried. It was a copy of your lease with an approved early termination of contract. “Don’t worry about moving your things,” he said, “The boys and I will handle it.”

A tear slid down your cheek. They’d taken your life from you.

You jumped when you felt a finger run across your cheek, wiping away the tear. “If you don’t want to share a room with Touya, that’s fine. There’s plenty of rooms in the house.”

*******************************************************

As your stomach grew, so did Enji's overprotectiveness and Touya's absence. He hadn't even updated his insta since the party. You almost admitted you missed him. You could brush off Touya's rude remarks about how fat you were getting. You couldn't brush off Enji's furnace of a hand as it felt up your swelling stomach. With your insta DMs taunting you with that swollen blue send button. All it would take for help was to press it. But pressing it would mean admitting that you needed him. It was almost tempting. Almost.

Enji did make you move into the mansion, which you thought meant spending every waking moment with Touya, but he was rarely there. Even when he was, he would only play Mario-kart with his friends or ignore you completely. Despite his possessive behavior, he was sticking to his guns about making you call him first.

Your room was thankfully away from Touya's, sandwiched between his younger siblings, Fuyumi and Natsuo. They were all incredibly kind, volunteering to bring you food and anything else you need. They even helped you start to put your things away as it was becoming harder to move with your growing stomach. Although you couldn't help noticing they seemed to eye you up when your back was turned.

And then Rei and Enji announced they'd be going out of town for the weekend. You thought this would be a relief, not having to deal with Enji's overprotectiveness for three days and Touya still being mostly MIA, but you quickly understood that no one in this house could be trusted.

"Is there anything we can get you?" Fuyumi asked, seated at your desk with Natsuo leaning beside her.

At this point, you were about four months into your pregnancy. Your stomach wasn't enormous, but it was getting hard to move around. Fuyumi volunteered to buy you maternity clothing and Natsuo often brought you food, which was usually fast food, but still appreciated. You'd grown comfortable with asking these two for things you needed. "I'm okay," you said, "I just need to get some pads. Hopefully I can get them from the store tomorrow." Your car was still here, after all, and despite being in the mansion, you hadn't managed to find your keys. Touya or Enji had to have them.

Natsuo twitched. "Pads?" Having not know him for that long, you weren't sure what that meant quite yet. You'd seen it only s few times when your pregnancy was mentioned.

Regardless, you blushed. Speaking about the changes your body was going through with your future, unwanted, in-laws wasn't a comfortable topic of conversation. "I don't have a proper bra to absorb all the milk," you confessed.

Fuyumi seemed like she was trying not to look at you. "You're lactating?" Or rather, you realized, she was trying not to look at your chest.

Hesitantly you answered, "Yeah."

Silence in the room settled heavy as a boulder. Natsuo's adam's apple bobbed. "H-how much?" His voice was tight.

You did not like this line of questioning. "Does it matter?"

Fuyumi glanced at Natsuo who nodded. Together, they moved at once, flanking your sides with the efficacy of lions. "Don't scream," Fuyumi said and then she yanked your shirt up. Just as you'd said, the front of your bra was dark with milk.

Natsuo was fast to pull a tit free, groaning at the sight of your puffy and swollen areolas. He ran the cold pad of his thumb over your nipple, making you squirm. "Fuck," he groaned, "I've waited too long for this."

Fuyumi did the same, her fingers just as cold. "You think you have? I'm older than you, remember?"

"What are you doing?!" You demanded. You tried to get away but they easily pinned you against your new bed, your back to the mattress and tits up for their viewing pleasure. The swollen part of your stomach didn't help either.

Slowly, Fuyumi explained, "Mom always let us have some of her milk when she was lactating but had to stop awhile ago because of some medication." She pinched you nipple and watched you bite down the moan that threatened to escape. Your breasts felt swollen all the time now that you were making milk. It both hurt and felt far too good to massage them yourself, milk often squirting out if you pressed too hard. With both of them hanging over you like, you knew the milk would flow easily and that would only encourage them more.

Natsuo picked up where his sister left off, "So we've been waiting for someone to give us a new supply. And you're it." He gave a tentative lick to your nipple, watching the skin stretch and swell until it stood erect and ready to suck. "I'll have to thank Touya for bringing you to us."

With that, both Fuyumi and Natsuo latched onto your nipples. Their hot mouths were voracious, starved. Fuyumi lapped and suckled while Natsuo used his teeth and pulled.

Your body reacted naturally as if they were the child still growing inside you. You could feel your teats leaking, all too happy to give up what they'd produced for hungry mouths. Gasps left your throat between the begging for them to stop and pleasure. Your core was becoming hot, liquid, as if it were melting.

You tried to push them off, but the siblings held firm, suckling back and forth until you were dizzy.

Natsuo suddenly pulled off, gasping for air as clear fluid dripped down his chin. "Fuck, I can't take this anymore." He got off the bed and spread your legs, roughly shoving your skirt up and pulling your panties aside to feel the slick that had gathered. He whistled, low and impressed. “Dad said you’d be easy, but I didn’t think you’d get so wet from us just sucking on your tits.”

“Don’t,” you begged, trying to push him and Fuyumi off you, but Natsuo was just like his big brother: stronger than you and bigger than you. He pulled his cock free and slid it inside you. He wasn’t as big as Touya or his father, but he was long and pushed in and in and in until you thought your swollen womb had been pushed into your lungs. “Shit,” he groaned, “you’re fucking tight. How did either of them even fit in here?” 

Fuyumi didn’t speculate, continuing to suckle on your breast, occasionally using her hand to stimulate the milk glands. 

Natsuo didn’t wait for you to adjust, sliding himself in and out at a steady pace that had you whimpering. In this sad, pathetic moment, you could admit it. You could admit that you missed Touya and wished he was here to protect you from his feral siblings as they had their way with you. Your phone was just on the nightstand, too, if you could roll over, you’d be able to call him. You needed him. The thought tasted like bile and booze.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but Natuso didn’t seem to notice or care, groaning at the sloppy sounds your cunt made as he fucked you. Fuyumi did notice and pulled off your teat. “Hey,” she said, “you’re okay.” She kissed your cheek, but kept one hand on your breast. “There’s no need to cry, we’re just trying to get to know you before the baby comes.” A kiss along your jaw, another one lower, where she sucked and bit at the skin. All you could think was Touya wouldn’t be happy if that bruised. 

And then the door opened. 

Hope exploded in your gut like an unwanted orgasm, every muscle in your body tensing, ready to explode off the bed and into your savior’s arms. For the first time in your life you hoped it was Touya coming, hoped it would be the shaggy mess of dyed-black hair and those cruel cerulean eyes that would demand to know what’s happening before he pulled you away to his room. You could handle his mocking but not his siblings. You wanted it to be Touya so much it hurt. 

And it wasn’t. 

The youngest Todoroki poked his head in, heterochromic eyes blinking slowly at the sight in front of him. His pale skin turned red, anger coloring his features as his eyebrows narrowed. For a moment you thought he’d defend you, but you knew better, you knew these siblings were fucked up and selfish. With Natuso buried deep inside you and Fuyumi still trying to get milk from your breast, you weren’t surprised at all when Shouto said, “You guys got started without me?”

Fuyumi and Natsuo scrambled to come up with an excuse, both their movements stopping as their attention shifted to focus on their little brother. The shot you needed. You ignored Natuso’s cock inside you and made for your phone, swiping it off the nightstand and quickly hitting the contact for A MAN WHO SHOULD NOT BE CALLED. 

“Shit.” Both Fuyumi and Natuso swore. 

They both tried to wrestle your phone away, but it was too late. Less than two rings and Touya’s voice flooded the room, “What’s going on?”

You were so relieved you almost started sobbing. “Help me!” 

Fuyumi managed to grab your phone. Her face broke into an uneasy smile, fear making her pale into a sickly green “Everything’s fine, Touya-nii! We’re just playing a game and she’s a sore loser, right Natsu?”

“Right,” Natuso’s voice was shaking, “right, Fuyu.” 

Heavy silence filled the room. They’d been exposed for their actual intentions. “I’m on my way. And I better not see any of you near her again.” Touya’s voice was a growl, deep, barely holding back his rage. 

Shouto blinked, his color returning to normal. “You guys drank all the milk, didn’t you?” 

Both Natsuo and Fuyumi looked horrified. Their little brother's own selfishness played against them.

Fuyumi and Natsuo scrambled out of the room, dragging Shouto with them.

You laid on the bed, a soreness washing over your body. Your violated cunt, your swollen breasts, your skin where Fuyumi kissed, and goosebumps from the cold. You didn’t have the energy to fix your clothes or even look at Touya when he entered the room. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his heat and his anger. He didn’t say anything, though. He just fixed your clothes and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you to your feet before he brought you to his room. 

The familiar smells of body odor, weed, and Touya enveloped you and you understood that no matter how much you didn’t want this, this was your safe space now.  

She turned Nanjing Massacre into a memory of the world, Life was forever fixed at 36 years of age

Yesterday, it was the 80th anniversary of the massacre in Nanjing, is also the fourth national sacrificial day. This history, not only all the Chinese people need to remember that the world also can not be forgotten. Many people, in order to let the world remember this history callsign running.

Iris Chang, published in 1997 in English history books “The Rape of Nanking: The Forgotten Holocaust of World War II”. Use words as a weapon to reveal this little-known history in the West.

November 9, 2004, the woman who had been running for that history, park her white car next to a deserted road, then pulled out a pistol suicide. Her life is always fixed at the age of 36.

Iris story was later turned into an English documentary, “Iris Chang: The Rape of Nanking,” co-produced by Canada and Hong Kong, China. This documentary is to understand Iris Chang, but also to understand that period of precious information

The story begins with Iris childhood. Iris parents had lived through years of war and later settled in the Midwestern United States, both of whom taught at university. But they have never forgotten the horrors of Japan's invasion of China, also hope that Iris can’t forget.

Iris wrote in the book: Neither of my parents witnessed it, but as young children they had heard the stories, and these were passed down to me. According to Iris memories, when parents told her about all the details of that period of history, they often shuddered at the voice of anger. The Japanese, I learned, sliced babies not just in half but in thirds and fourths, they said; the Yangtze River ran red with blood for days. Their voices quivering with outrage, my parents characterized the Great Nanking Massacre, or Nanjing Datusha, as the single most diabolical incident committed by the Japanese in a war that killed more than 10 million Chinese people.

Since then, the Nanjing massacre was deeply printed in Iris mind. Throughout her childhood, the Nanjing massacre has become synonymous with unspeakable evil.

When she grew up, she wanted to know more, but she found that there was not any English information on the Nanjing massacre in the library of her school. On a fortuitous occasion, Iris was told that a meeting on the Nanjing massacre was taking place in Cupertino, California, then she drove to.

A lot of pictures and videos of the crime were recorded at the meeting, including a picture that attracted Iris attention. It was in that human tragedy, a man was beheaded in a picture of the moment that the blade had passed his neck and the head had. Is this picture, let Iris Chang has been a great shock, she felt the fragility of life. And what is even more frightening to her is that after decades, no one remembers it. She wrote in her book: Perhaps, half century later, no one would care, and the perpetrators might even say that never happened at all. It was horrifying.

Ding Yuan of the Global Alliance for Preserving the History of WWII in Asia remembers how Iris wanted him to take a photo copy. At the time, Iris was too young. “I thought she is a high school student just wanted to write a book report.” But he said at the time Iris was intense, focused, driven and a goal getter. He saw her at first sight felt.

Iris said that although she doesn’t know a person in Nanjing, she must go. And pls Ding help.

In the summer of 1995, Iris came to Nanjing and personally visited over a dozen survivors. The way she got sick fatigued with the journey, on the road, but she did not delay a moment. She said: “I really thought there was an urgency here. I was afraid that if I waited too long, all the voices of the Rape of Nanking would be distinguished forever.”

Before arriving in China, Iris arranged the cooperation with Chinese researchers by mail, telephone and letters. According to historian Wang Hengxing introduction: She seems to be a member of this historical event, with their own personal experience writing this book. Her book is not written with a pen, is written in her heart.

Iris was completely immersed in the environment of more than 60 years ago in Nanjing: She was in the dark. Imagine how the victims felt and just try to internalize the story she heard each day. During the night, we would actually sit in a room surrounded by the pictures she couldn't see and the maps on the wall, trying to imagine she was there.

In order to better cooperate with Iris to complete the data collection work, the three Chinese historians and teachers worked together to start the visits and data collection. That history, in their work, started little by little.

In her research, she also found the diaries of John Rabe, the witness of the Nanjing Massacre who have been neglected, and the American missionary Weitling.

In 1997, on the 60th anniversary of the massacre in Nanjing, the “Nanjing Massacre: The Forgotten World War II Catastrophe” was launched.

In the title, Iris called the Nanjing Massacre “the forgotten Holocaust.” Holocaust, the term refers to large-scale destruction and killing. But for Westerners, “The Holocaust” is already synonymous with the genocidal massacre of Jews in Nazi Germany during World War II. Iris Chang used the word to let the West know that the Holocaust is a tragic same also occurred in China.

This book is a comprehensive study of the Nanjing Massacre conducted in English for the first time. It is common for many Western readers understand that this dark chapter in human history.

“The Rape of Nanking” is the first book on the subject in English in more than 50 years.

William C. Kirby, professor of history at Harvard University and professor of modern Chinese history, pointed out in the preface to the book's significance: The Rape of Nanking has largely been forgotten in the West, hence the importance of this book. In calling it a “forgotten Holocaust,” Ms. Chang draws connections between the slaughter in Europe and in Asia of millions of innocents during World War II.

For what the Japanese have done, this book is more detailed than ever before. It tells of the atrocities in Nanjing from three different perspectives:

The first is the Japanese perspective. It is the story of a planned invasion—what the Japanese military was told to do, how to do it, and why.

The second perspective is that of the Chinese, the victims; this is the story of the fate of a city when the government is no longer capable of protecting its citizens against outside invaders.  This section includes individual stories from the Chinese themselves, stories of defeat, despair, betrayal, and survival.

The third is the American and European perspective. These outsiders were, for one moment at least in Chinese history, heroes.

The book describes the frenzied Japanese atrocities, heinous. As Chinese people, when read our countrymen suffered such harm and devastation, it is extremely indignant:

Chinese men were used for bayonet practice and in decapitation contests.

An estimated 20,000–80,000 Chinese women were raped. Many soldiers went beyond rape to disembowel women, slice off their breasts, nail them alive to walls. Fathers were forced to rape their daughters, and sons their mothers, as other family members watched.

Not only did live burials, castration, the carving of organs, and the roasting of people become routine, but more diabolical tortures were practiced, such as hanging people by their tongues on iron hooks or burying people to their waists and watching them get torn apart by German shepherds.

So sickening was the spectacle that even the Nazis in the city were horrified, one proclaiming the massacre to be the work of “bestial machinery.”

In addition to the story of the Nanjing massacre itself, Iris further explored the postwar Japanese government's cover-up and denied the massacre in Nanjing: The story of how the Japanese... tried to erase the entire massacre from public consciousness, thereby depriving its victims of their proper place in history.

Australian historian Ross Terrill commented: “Anyone interested in the relation between war, self-righteousness, and the human spirit will find The Rape of Nanking of fundamental importance. It is scholarly, an exciting investigation, and a work of passion. In places it is almost unbearable to read, but it should be read—only if the past is understood can the future be navigated.”

Once this book was published, it caused a sensation in American society. For 10 consecutive weeks as "New York Times" best-selling champion, the West began to pay attention to the Nanjing massacre and heated discussions.

How hot is this book in the United States? According to Susan Rabiner, the editor who published the book said: “Usually a tour of the book signings will last two weeks, signings for the masterpiece is two months, and the signing of the book lasted more than a year. This is something I have never heard of before. We were forced to extend the signings again and again. This shows the long-lasting popularity of this book.”

But at the same time, the sale of the book also brought great trouble to Iris life. She received a lot of malicious intimidation letters and phone calls. In order to protect herself and her families, she can only constantly change the phone number, dare not disclose her husband and children's information. She once admitted to her friend that she has lived in fear all these years.

Moreover, in the face of the evidence of a mountain, Japanese right-wing nationalists even denied the atrocities described in the book. Not only did they refuse to recognize history, they maliciously distorted history and considered that China unilaterally forged historical facts.

Iris has gazed at the survivors' eyes and listened to their stories, however the Japanese had deliberately chosen collective amnesia, which for her is unacceptable. And her heart is also extremely sensitive, every writing she must face cruel humanity, too many heavy facts pressed her out of breath.

Having recorded a victim's experience, she had a physical reaction to the atrocities. She said: “I remember on various occasions, starting to tremble compulsively and not being able to stop. It will take some time before I stop shaking. I also noticed tremendous hair loss. You know,  just patches of hair disappearing.”

Iris said that she suffered a huge pain in her heart because (atrocities) really shaken my most basic belief: “humans are good at heart.” In 2004, Iris Chang, who was writing a fourth book, fell into major depression and his condition did not improve. She finally chose to end her own life.

Mr. Lu Xun once said: “Really warriors, dare to face the bleak life, dare to confront the dripping blood.”

Iris Chang was such a courageous female fighter who faced the dark human nature and the cruelty of the war and rediscovered a history almost forgotten by the West.

History can not be forgotten. Forget the massacre, equal to the second massacre. At the same time, we should cherish the current peace.

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Well... it's about time.

It started in 2015. I was absolutelly hearthbroken from end of my first relationship few months ago and though it may help if I find someone else. Not permanent, just maybe few weeks or months... it's why I didn't wait to fall in love with somebody and just started dating this one guy. He looked somehow... strange, but I never believed strange means bad. Well, this time it was mistake. We decided to spend night together. We discussed sex before, he asked what is Ok for me and what not. He was kinda into BDSM and I liked tied up hands during sex. I told him I don't want anal sex. He asked if I ever tried it but promised he'll respect I don't want to do it. We stayed in his friend's apartment (We were both 19 and he lived still with his mother). That was... well, not so bad, we slept in different room ect. Problem started when his friend next day left for work. Next day I let him tied my hands and he begged to let him tied up my legs apart, promising he stop it and undo ropes once it starts to be uncomfortable. So I agreed. He had sex with me, which I allowed. But after that, he from somewhere took candle and lube. He started to lube my ass and didn't care I was telling him to stop, that I don't want it and that he promised me not to do it. He also told me to be calm or his friend will have trouble because she's not allowed to let anybody in her apartment. (Yes, I was stupid enough to believe it). I didn't stop telling him, I just didn't so loud. He didn't stop. He first used candle and after that took plug-tail. He took phone and did photos. From different angles and everywhere was seen all body included head. After that, he promised me he never do it again when he really see I don't like and and also promised he deleted photos but never let me to check it. (I heard him few weeks ago say to somebody that every photo he ever take is automatically archived at google disk or something like that so he doesn't really care if somebody destroy his phone.) Necessary to say, I didn't cry. in any of those photos. Years of bully taught me not to cry in front of people. (Also, he checked my friend list and find out who were my classmates. Which he told me just by the way.). He never exactly said if I broke up with him, he'll put it on the internet or send to somebody, but it wasn't necessary. Also I have somehow slower emotions. it fully kicked me next day, when I went home. After he took me introduce to his mother. He didn't care I said it's kinda early, he knew I won't leave because I didn't know city and at this time I haven't had smartphone with maps to find way. I was afraid to break up with him because I expected he'll send this photos to everyone and nobody will believe me I didn't want it. Also he really cared to not hurt me so I didn't have any evidence due to that. When I got home, i went to pieces. I wasn't able to go to the toilet and not to start crying. Every time anybody (no matter if just for fun) slapped my ass, I went mad and start jelling at them and wanted to beat them up. I've had nightmares with flashbacks or with situations where he really send that photos to anyone. I couldn't sleep. It got better after few months when after wake up from one of these I promised myself it it happens, I will kill him with my own hands. He was shitty lover and shitty boyfriend. He did things to me, he clipped my pubic lips and nipples with strong office clips and laughed how I cried from pain and tried to be calm, too afraid his mother will heard me. He forcefully put things to me, never cared it hurts. He told his mother to do lunches full of meat, only meat while knew I am vegetarian. I tried to eat a little and when i stopped and ask him to finish it, he started bitching I'm doing a scene to him. One time he hang me on ropes in front of window. It was 5th floor, but still. He was stronger than me and never cared about protests. He poured hot wax to my nipples and crotch and found it funny that it hurts me. He also tried to convice me to dye my hair blond, go to surgery for bigger boobs and completely change wardrobe, start looking like a girl and wear colors "like representative girlfriend must do". He took my dress from wardrobe I had there when I wanted it to borrow to my boy friend, saying I have no right to borrow it. After he moved out from mother, it wasn't any better. He constantly begged to have sex with him, especially when I needed to do homeworks for school. He begged for hours until I agreed just to get rid of him. When I didn't he still got what he wanted. Few times he begged to let him again use that plug tail and still promised he'll never want it again. When one time I still strongly refused after hours of begging, he stopped it. Next morning, he tied my hands, put me on belly and started fucking. Nothing unusual. But then he put finger in my ass. When I imediately started yelling to him, he told me to shut up or his flatmates will heard it. I didn't stop, told him I didn't care if they will. He stopped it, turned me on back and continued fucking. When he realised after few minutes I'm completelly numb and not give a sigle fuck about what he's doing, he stopped and undo my hands. When I went from bed and told him I'm packing my things and go home, he stared crying. That was when I told him he may be my boyfriend, but when he do it ever again, I will kill him. Few weeks later, he broke up with me when he found out I'm going to fall term of my final exam instead of spring. I cried for few minutes but I was finally free from him. I never really started to love him, but I get used to and developed dependance on him, because I was just sack of nerves. I moved to that city for summer to be free from home and work there. He insisted I must visit him, and again and again.  That was when I saw that (supposedly deleted photos) in his computer. After few months, I was finally able to stop seeing him. This was when some of that nightmares came back and I started to falling apart for some time. And it got better. I told about it some common friends. They believed to me. One of them confronted him about that photos.  He said he had some photos of me. Few hours later, he texted me that he meant ANOTHER photos, not these naked and raped, just normal photos. He promised me. Need to say I don't believe him? That friend offered to me that if I want to go to the police, he'll tell them what he heard from him about having still those photos. I didn't want to do it, I just wanted to forget. Until I must talked to him few more times when another friend found some disscrepancy in our versions. He believed I lied to him, which I didn't, I just didn't tell everything because we were together for more than year and I didn't think it will be important. Few month later I heard from that friend that my ex told him few interesting things. Which were lies. Anyway, i did call him about it. He denied it and he told me he'll probably start lawyer school to defend himself at the court, that I should know that. Interesting is that maybe week before that I debated with friend if i should go to the police and tell them. There is no other way he'd know about it other then he put some spying software into my phone. Which would explain some other things.  This scumbag seriously can still revenge me for dare to tell anybody about it. After that, I started to searching through our conversation trying to find any thing i could show police as evidence. What I found out? Every time when I confronted him with what he had done, he never replied. He called me to my phone outside messenger and talked me out of it. That sick bastard for whole year told me how much he loved me and still suspected that I would want to use his reply when he said he did it as evidence for police. That's my story. It's partly my fault to trusted him, but it doesn't make any of what he done more legal. He's the one who raped and abused me. I didn't call the cops because I was scared to death that he'll destroy me. My PTSD slowly gets less worse. It doesn't change what happened.

And I still have no evidence which use against him. Only my word against his word.

#metoo

Misogyny In The Music Industry

           Music has always played a huge part in all cultures, it is rare that you’ll find a person who doesn’t enjoy music and with music being so popular it’s no surprise that many people pursue the music industry as a lifelong career, a huge chunk of those people being female. So, it’s disturbing to realise that the industry has a dark and insidious side that involves the undermining, criticising, bullying and even sexual assault of the female gender. This dark side has been there since the beginning but has only been brought to light in recent years through the use of social media and communities of people who have been through the same experiences being brought together.

           For some reason the media always seems to undermine females, especially in the music industry, they find it hard to believe that a female in the industry can be more than “just a singer”, even for artists such as Bjork, who has been in the music industry for around thirty years. Bjork has co-produced the majority of her albums, but the media always credits the other male producer as the sole producer, even with her most recent album in which she produced 80% of. She admits in an interview with Pitchfork that she has thought about making a map of all of her albums and making it clear who did what but fears it would come across as defensive and pathetic. She finds this frustrating, as she also said in the interview, that no one questions someone like Kanye West on any of his authorship, which is true..

After this interview came out, other female artists who have produced their own work came out with similar stories. Madonna sympathised in an interview with Out Magazine by explaining that when she says that she co-produced a song with a male producer, they will always respond with something along the lines of ‘so he produced it?’ and completely ignore the fact that she also produced it. The synth-pop artist Grimes has also said to The Fader that the media would rather focus on the fact that she is a female other than all the hard work she has done as a musician and producer. Grimes produces all of her own work and also does her live performances on her own, with a laptop running Ableton Live, launch pads and so on, and says that the media and industry professionals are always insisting that she needs a band or she needs to work with outside producers, ignoring how far she has got on her own.

This problem of undermining also runs further than with just female producers, Vicky Hamilton who booked, promoted, and managed bands such as Guns N’ Roses, Faster Pussycat, and Stryper in the 1980’s, said to LA Weekly that ‘till this day she is asked which member of Guns N’ Roses she slept with, all because she managed and lived with the band for a time. Author and journalist Jessica Hopper brought the issue of undermining in the industry to the public’s attention when she tweeted: “Gals/other marginalised folks: what was your 1st brush (in the music industry, journalism, scene) w/ idea that you didn’t ‘count’”. This tweet spawned an avalanche of jaw-dropping responses containing stories of misogyny and more. Some examples of these tweets are; “Stage managing Webster Hall and the DJ’s wouldn’t take any instructions from me without hearing it from my male intern” and “former GM (he’s since retired, new GM is great) at First Ave told me majoring in music in college qualified me to ‘be a housewife’”.

The problem with misogyny is clearly coming from influential people in the industry spreading their sexist beliefs to others. The first example of one of these people is Jimmy Iovine, the head of Apple Music. During an appearance on CBS This Morning, Iovine claimed that women find it difficult to find new music on their own and that they need a soundtrack for when they are “sitting around, you know, talking about boys”. Another example is the popular rapper Eminem, who has basically made a whole career out of detailing how many ways he could cause physical harm to women, with lyrics such as “I’ll punch Lana Del Rey in the face twice like Ray Rice in broad daylight in plain sight of elevator surveillance, ‘til the head is banging on the railing, then celebrate with the ravens” and “sl** you think I won’t choke no wh***? ‘Til the vocal chords don’t work in her throat no more?”. Another is Future and Kanye West, when they made a computer game for their song ‘I Won’, in the game the player plays as both MC’s and the goal is to snag your very own “trophy wife” by throwing gold chains at women on a beach, transforming them into literal trophies. Furthermore, is the UK alternative radio station Radio X, previously called XFM. When the station was in the middle of rebranding themselves, they announced that they were going to be the “first truly male-focused” station, the public responded with outrage to this and instead of trying to save themselves, the station dug in their heels and released a PSA video which stereotyped and patronised women, teenagers, and the gay community.

Because of influences like these, it isn’t even shocking anymore when female musicians are asked ridiculously sexist questions in media interviews that men would never be asked. In 2014, alternative singer/songwriter Sky Ferreira appeared on Brazilian talk show The Noite to talk about her new album. The opening question of the interview, which host Danilo Gentili asked through a translator, was whether people liked her because of her music or “because of the tits?” gesturing to the partial nudity on her album cover. Also in 2014, pop singer Charli XCX was being interviewed by Giel Beeten on Dutch radio show The Giel Show, when he asked her to record a radio drop saying “good morning in the most sensual way”, before she even had the chance to oblige, he accused her of masturbating as he couldn’t see her hands, she obviously wasn’t doing anything of that nature and responded with “I wouldn’t do that for you”. In 2015 a video of a radio interview with pop icon Ariana Grande went viral on the internet, this interview was at LA’s Power 106 radio station and was with the DJ’s Justin Credible and Eric D-Lux. At the time of the interview, Grande had an upcoming album, a new single, her role on the show Scream Queens, and a duet with the legendary Andrea Bocelli to discuss, but instead was asked questions such as “if you could use makeup or your phone one last time, which would you pick?”. The reason the video of this went viral is that Grande stood her ground and called them out, saying “is that what you think girls have trouble choosing between?” and “you need a little brushing up on equality”.

           In 2014, the news came out to the public that pop singer Kesha had sued her producer, Dr Luke, seeking to void all of their contracts because of how, the suit claimed, Dr Luke sexually, physically, verbally, and emotionally abused Kesha over the course of ten years, Dr Luke countersued shortly after, denying all allegations. The first big decision on this case came on February 19th 2016, when due to lack of evidence, a New York judge denied Kesha a court injunction that would have allowed her to record new music and continue her career away from Dr Luke and Sony, meaning she still owed them six more albums. With this news, the internet exploded with the hashtag #freekesha, as the public voiced their support of Kesha, this included statements from celebrities such as; Lady Gaga, Lena Dunham, Lorde, Ariana Grande, Iggy Azalea, Zedd, Halsey, Jack Antonoff, and Taylor Swift.

           With the subject being so popular during the case, the incident became the cause of more female musicians coming out about their own experiences in the industry, exposing an even darker side of the misogyny going on. In 2015, forty years after her abuse occurred, Jackie Fuchs (aka Jackie Fox) opened up to The Huffington Post about the endless abuse she endured at the hands of her manager Kim Fowley while she was the bass player for the all-female band The Runaways, including a time where he allegedly raped her in front of a room full of people during an after-show party in an Orange County motel room after she had been drugged.  Julie Farman who was a three-decade veteran of the music industry but is now a marketing consultant came forward to LA Weekly after twenty years about the time she was sexually harassed by two members of The Red Hot Chili Peppers in a storage cupboard while working as the West Coast associate director of media and artist relations at Epic Records. Former Secretary of Geffen Records, Penny Muck compared this to the time in 1991 when she filed a lawsuit against the company and its parent organisations for sexual harassment, battery, and assault. She claimed that the executives permitted sexually deviant behaviour, especially from executive Marko Babineau and she didn’t want to take it up with the company directly because there had previously been a long line of women who had filed complaints but the top tier declined to take action. The case was eventually settled out of court for a reported $500 000, while that was only a small payment for a company like Geffen, it still spurred a lot more women to come forward about their experiences.

           When these types of stories come out to the public, it becomes clear that a way the misogyny in the industry can be fought and destroyed is by not being afraid to speak up. An example of this occurring is when Amber Coffman, one of the members of Brooklyn-based band Dirty Projectors, began a series of tweets detailing her experience with music publicist Heathcliff Beru of Life or Death PR and Management, recalling a time in which he rubbed her buttock and bit her hair while at a bar. Immediately an LA-based music publicist named Beth Martinez responded saying that she had a similar experience with Beru, in which repeatedly put his hand down her shirt while driving her home, even after she repeatedly told him not to. This caused dozens of women to come forward with their own experiences with Beru, including; Bonnaroo co-ordinator Martika Finch, manager Theodora Karatzas, producer Shirley Braha, Empire Music’s Christy Merriner, Bethany Cosentino of the band Best Coast, Yasmine Kittles of the band Tearist, and singer/songwriter Chelsea Wolfe. With all these accusations against him, Beru ended up having no choice but to resign his position at Life or Death PR and Management.

           An example of an artist that speaks out against sexism and misogyny is Lauren Mayberry, front woman of the band Chvrches. As Chvrches is a band that emerged from the internet, it is important to the band that they communicate with their fans directly through all of their social networking sites. However, when dealing with the internet there will always be a fair share of hate comments and inappropriate messages, the majority of the ones sent to Chvrches are directed at Mayberry, which she then screen-grabs and posts on her own sites to spread awareness. Some examples of the inappropriate messages she has shared are “this isn’t rape culture, you’ll know rape culture when I’m raping you, b****” and “act like a sl**, get treated like a sl**”. Mayberry accepts that when you are in the public eye there will always be hate, but believes no female should feel violated by comments that range from slightly sexist but generally harmless to openly sexually aggressive.

           Another artist who speaks out is Katie Crutchfield of the band Waxahatchee. During a Waxahatchee gig, Crutchfield jumped into the audience to confront a teenage boy one-on-one after he had shouted derogatory comments at her. This boy didn’t get the message as he tried to kiss her, so Crutchfield had him kicked out of the venue. She has learnt over her many years in the industry that this is the best way to deal with these situations and the only way in which they will listen. Another is Meredith Graves, vocalist of the band Perfect Pussy. During a moment in Perfect Pussy’s set at Basilica Soundscape Festival, Graves read aloud an essay that she wrote on sexism. In the essay, she summed up the difficulties around female identity in pop; mentioning expectations on female artists’ appearance and the notion of authenticity. Lady Gaga has always been an icon for both feminists and female musicians, this became clear when she made her speech for the 2015 Woman of the Year at Billboard Women in Music. Gaga addressed how difficult it is for women in music entering the “boys club” that is the industry and became very emotional when she explained that receiving Woman of the Year meant to her that she was being recognised for her songwriting and legacy instead of her appearance.

           Another way females in the music industry can fight the misogyny is by openly supporting one another. In 2015, a bunch of female country musicians started trending the hashtag #tomatotuesday on Twitter, making a joke out of Keith Hill when he publicly made the comment: “Trust me, I play great female records and we’ve got some right now; they’re just not the lettuce in our salad”. Country-folk musician Brandi Carlile is the founder of Looking Out; an organisation that supports women through music. A dollar from every concert ticket Carlile ever sells goes to this organisation. Another organisation is Shesaid.so founded by Andreea Magdalina. Shesaid.so is a global community of women who work in the music industry with the aim to strengthen support networks, offer partnership opportunities, and provide a platform for female-made content. Not only do the female music artists need to support each other, but the female music listeners do as well. Girls Against is a movement made by five teenage feminists fighting against sexual assault at live music gigs. The movement was created after one of the five girls experienced sexual harassment at a Peace show in Glasgow and it aims to start a discussion between fans, artists, promoters, venues, and security companies, along with offering support to victims.

           In conclusion, there always has been (and still is) a huge problem with sexism and misogyny in the music industry. This problem stems from the media undermining female artists, influential male artists expressing their misogynistic views; whether it be through the media or through the lyrics in their music, and the dark past and present of sexual abuse in the industry. All of this can be fought if victims of it continue to speak up about what they have to face and all the females in the industry continue to support each other, then maybe and hopefully one day, all musicians no matter what gender will be considered equal and no different.

Not Linked References: Annie Zaleski 2015, Music Writers Twitter Feed Exposes Industry’s Harsh Sexism, Marginalization, A.V Club Candace Amos 2015, Eminem Still Hasn’t Changed His Misogynistic Ways – See 5 of his Most Brutal Lyrics Against Women, New York Daily Chris Coplan 2014, Future and Kanye West Turn “I Won” Into a Terrible, Sexist Video Game, Consequence of Sound Maura Johnstone 2016, Kesha and Dr. Luke: Everything You Need To Know To Understand the Case, Rolling Stone Sophie Schilacci 2016, Kesha vs. Dr. Luke: Everything You Need To Know About The Ongoing Legal Drama, ET Online  Caitlin White 2016, Music Publicist Accused of Sexual Harassment By Dirty Projectors Member Amber Coffman, Brooklyn Magazine Lauren Mayberry 2013, I Will Not Accept Online Misogyny, The Guardian Jillian Mapes 2015, Pull the Thread and Unravel Me: Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield, Pitchfork Jeremy Gordon 2014, Perfect Pussy’s Meredith Graves Discusses Andrew W.K, Lana Del Rey, Authenticity, Sexism in Essay, Pitchfork