A prominent libertarian blogger with whom I've corresponded on-and-off and affably so for years sent me an email on Monday that both shocked and worried me. Shocked because it was a wrenching account of his being raped some 17 years ago -- a rape he'd refused to acknowledge and, so, was truly dealing with only now. Worry because, as a rape victim myself, I knew something of the wild emotional swings he was or would be going through -- from blind rage to shame to gut-tearing pain to self-recrimination and back to rage again...you always seem to return to the rage. This is a fellow I've always liked; his voice is one of the more interesting that's out there. Now I also admire the hell out of his courage; I look forward to watching how his voice matures and strengthens as a result of looking his nightmare straight in the eye and grabbing back the power it stole almost two decades ago.

He encouraged me to reprint his story if I thought it would help other male victims. And I do think it will. Nevetheless, I inserted a few days delay so that he could consider and reconsider whether he wanted to see his story 'in print', even in relative anonymity. Indeed, I identify him here as a libertarian blogger only because he suggested the description might be both specific and anonymous enough.

His story follows with an appended P.S. from follow-on emails we've exchanged.

The email read, in part,

On a Friday night in 1990, after hanging out with a friend for several hours at a club - said friend disappeared for the night and left his female friend (stranger to me) without a ride and about 35 miles from home. I was plastered, and not going to drive as the club was next to a motel. She asked for a ride and I offered to drive her home in the morning as she was about 6 months pregnant, but I was going to have to get a motel room for the evening as I was drunk and not driving in such a state. We decided to split the cost of the room and both agreed that sleeping was all that was going to take place. She was pregnant and also not my type in the slightest. At the time, I thought I was in love with a woman attending UNCW. I seem to recall we even had separate beds.

I woke up about 2 hours later - still destroyed by the alcohol - to find my clothes removed from the waist down and the girl on top of me wailing like a banshee and quite roughly enjoying herself. She had apparently brought me to erection - not hard as I'm one of those men who can hold one for hours, awake or asleep, sober or drunk. She told me everything was okay and to go back to sleep and despite my best effort to the contrary, I was unable to move or speak coherently in my still very inebriated and half-conscious state and did fall asleep again quickly.

After most of my drunken stupor wore off around 7 am or so, I awoke again to find her on top of me - this time with a more menacing attitude as she knew I was in a better position to respond physically this time. I had began to wiggle out from under her (taking care not to hurt her baby) when she sternly warned me to "be quiet" and "not be forceful" and made it clear that she would cry rape if I tried to stop it. I was stunned to say the least and not sure how to respond. I could easily have thrown her across the room and off of me, but was concerned for her child and took her threat very, very seriously. She said it so easily that I doubt I was her first.

I weighed my options for a moment and came to the conclusion that a sober, 6 or 7-month pregnant college student of 24 was far more likely to be believed by the authorities than a drunk 19-year old Marine in the best shape of his life. I frequented that club a lot and I'm sure several people saw me leave with her. I was pretty much fucked - in more than one way - at that point.

I complied by lying still while she continued to warn and threaten me and she eventually orgasmed again and got off me. I don't know how long that rape took as I tried to disconnect my mind from that scene. Further, I have no idea how many times she had actually raped me that night (at least twice), but I was extremely sore for a few days. As a small favor, she turned out to be disease free.

I've always tried to pretend it was nothing or play it off like a wild night that ended weird whenever the memory surfaced.

After 17 years of pretending, the floodgates opened this week and it has been extremely difficult to deal with as my denial was swept away. I have a lot of counseling in my future in order to heal after the band-aid was ripped away.

This was very difficult to admit, not only personally, but to a very dear friend who has been there before. As you know, rape is about power and control. She had power over me that night, even though I could have easily thrown her across the room and out the window. Her pregnancy and threat of jail against me were the only weapons she needed to have her way that night.

My family is unaware and I'm still trying to figure out how to tell them. Eventually, I'll write about it myself.

Follow-on thoughts from his further emails:

A few short observations of my own from soul searching:

---I doubted myself and the events, afraid that I'd be laughed at or worse, accused of making a false allegation.
--I knew my masculinity would be called into question and that I'd be ridiculed.
--I doubted myself and thought maybe I misunderstood the nature of rape and that men really can't be raped.
--I was afraid she'd make good on her implied threat and accuse me of rape or claim it was consensual. Then I could possibly be charged with both rape and child endangerment (or a related charge) due to her pregnancy. I wasn't going to go to prison for a rapist.
--I knew that such an allegation would endanger my status in the Marine Corps.
--I knew that my consumption of alcohol (underage) would be used against me as well.