This is my first time talking about this experience that I had; I haven't ever told anyone as I really don't like to think about what happened and feel really ashamed of the whole situation, but I feel that this is a necessary evil because the world needs to be more aware of male sexual violence against lesbians. Anyhow, I am a young very feminine lesbian. This experience occurred when I was freshly 18. By feminine I mean I probably outdo the straight girls; makeup, hair, I'm always wearing dresses and constantly done up, etc. I also have a very feminine personality and job; I was studying to be a professional ballerina for 10 years and am now a makeup artist. Because I'm so traditionally feminine a lot of men ( actually all of them) refuse to believe that I am a lesbian, and when I say " I'm a lesbian" in their minds this means I'm probably a kinky straight girl and am I open to doing a threesome with their bi girlfriend because clearly shes too pretty to be gay and are you SURE you wouldn't like to join? Not "I DON'T LIKE MEN please keep ten feet away from me. This is furthered by the fact that all of my girlfriends have been very butch women; and I mean some of them have been so butch that they could actually pass for men without trying. Apparently men think that if you're girlfriend's masculine you actually want a man deep down or something and that they would be doing you this great service by trying to hit on you and get you out of this degenerate lifestyle or whatever. At the time I was friends with this older guy ( he was in his 50's) I would babysit his kids for him off and on; I always thought he was a little off but I was raised to be respectful to people that are older then me ( I'm from South Carolina, it's sort of a cultural thing over there in the deep south; someone could be trying to murder you and you would still be expected to be polite to them if they were in authority above you) I had been looking after his boys earlier in the day, and after their mother had come to pick them up he invited me to stay and have dinner with him. Anyways we were eating dinner, being very friendly, when he started questioning me about my sex life. I was always very open about the fact that I had a girlfriend; whom he had met and didn't like. He at first seemed like he was just being you know, kind of a standard guy, and then got more invasive until he finally demanded to know if I had ever performed cunnilingus on a woman before ( I'm cleaning up his language a bit because he was being quite crude in his questioning) You see I've only ever had sex with one woman ( the girlfriend I was seeing at the time) and in all the time we had ever been together she had never let me reciprocate sexually with her, because she had pretty bad gender dysphoria, and so I had always been a passive recipient in our encounters. I didn't feel like telling him this though; it was none of his business, but he continued to pester me until I finally responded that I had not, hoping it would shut him up. Once he learned this more he became even more in indignant, stating that since I had never performed cunnilingus on a woman before I couldn't possibly be gay, and that I was probably just confused, and that I was probably only with my girlfriend because she was "Just like a man.". I responded by telling him as politely as I could that I had had sex her and enjoyed it, and that what we did together didn't matter even if I hadn't I was still a lesbian and that It was none of his business anyhow. I think he got the point and we finally changed the subject, however a few drinks and a couple hours later I started to feel really weird, like I had been drugged or something. At first I thought maybe I had accidentally gotten drunk as I have a low alcohol tolerance due to my medication, but as time I went by I started feeling really really drowsy and sensing something was off I demanded for him to give me a ride home. Whatever he had given me unfortunately was strong enough to make me too weak and confused to get home by myself or defend myself- even to make a coherent phone call- but not strong enough to actually knock me completely out, which I honestly would have preferred to what I had to live through that night. He proceeded to take me to his bedroom and rape me by forcing me by laying me down on my bed, kneeling above me and forcing me to perform fellatio on him, and demanding I engage in what he called "cock worship" on him saying that I had been confused by my "bulldagger girlfriend" and that it would make me feel a lot better. He said that I needed to " worship his cock" (sorry for foul language I'm just quoting from memory) because I needed to be put in my place and learn to respect men, and that "that a pretty girl like me wasn't any kind of dyke, and if I was too much of a snob to eat pussy then I would learn to humble myself and suck dick." I don't recall ever actually saying no throughout our encounter; which is why I still feel so much shame to this day because I didn't think it counted as rape unless the victim was screaming at the perpetrator to stop. I was really scared and the whole time was worried about my girlfriend leaving me if she found out what had happened, as I was worried it would be considered cheating. Although I had been too dazed to fight him off before eventually my self- preservation kicked in when he started to choke me by forcing his penis too deep down my throat and so I bit down as hard as I could on his penis, too which he finally got off me and left me alone; although I do have some vague memory of him vaginally raping me later in the middle of the night; however I was so deep in my drugged induced stupor that it was almost like a non- event and ended pretty quickly. The next thing I remember it was early in the morning; I was naked in the bath- I don't know how I got there but he was bathing me to my discomfort which would soon turn into horror when he proceeded to undress and get in the bath with me. I ended up having a panic attack and threw up from anxiety ( all over his clean floor) to which he got very mad and abusive and demand that I clean it up as well as mop the entire floor and clean the whole room while I was at it since I made his whole house stink apparently. While I was doing so he went into the kitchen to make breakfast- I was still a little too woozy to get home by myself- and when I went to join him he seemed really cheerful as if nothing had happened accept a normal sexual encounter between two adults and even gave me some antiacid and sparkling water to help with my nausea; I was really terrified and just wanted to get home unscathed so I was quite friendly and polite to him and stayed at his house until the afternoon until he finally agreed to give me a ride to my work, the whole time making light conversation and even some crude jokes about what had happened the night before as if it was some sort of normal sexual escapade, as If it was consensual and he hadn't brutally raped me. Honestly I don't believe he really understood what he did; I think he really thought I was a straight girl and that I really had enjoyed it; and that the drugs were just there to "loosen me up." Anyhow that same day I got fired for my job for for God knows what. I can't remember anything else that happened the next few weeks save what is documented through written texts to my roommate, but apparently my behavior at work was so erratic and strange that I was literally fired that same day for it, despite having no previous issues with my employer. My Girlfriend and I broke up shortly afterwards; I never told her what happened. I barely remember breaking up, I don't know why we did I just remember her coming to pick up her stuff with her friends and a moving van and lots of yelling; despite not having any previous issues in our relationship. I'm not blaming her, I have no doubt my behavior (especially unexplained) would have been erratic to the extreme. I became severely depressed and stayed in bed for about six months, living off unemployment. In retrospect it could be said that I was experiencing severe dissociation, since I remember almost nothing I did for six moths besides watching tv and laying in bed with my cat. I believe it was made worse by my rapist constantly stalking me throughout this time; it started when I he messaged me a few days afterwards wanting to know if we could have sex again and when I didn't respond he became aggressive and started calling me a dozen times a day and leaving me threatening voicemails and even showed up at my apartment complex once (although thankfully he couldn't remember where I lived and ended up at a neighbors apartment trying to get directions to where I might live). Thankfully my neighbor thought he was a total creep and sent him away with false directions and came to tell me about the situation; however my mental state got worse and worse until I decided to move back in with my parents, which I really didn't want to do since they had kicked me out at 17 for being a lesbian. I'm still living with them now; life has gotten a bit better for me. But I haven't yet shared my story with anyone, and I feel like it might be the time so here it is. I hope someone can read this, and believe me, and know that what I experienced was rape. And also recognize that I probably wouldn't have been targeted by this man if I wasn't a lesbian; something I can't help. I thank anyone who might read this for their time and for caring enough about women's stories to do so. Thank you