~My Family~
- Jane, Mother (49)
- Andrew, Brother (24)
- Marie, Sister (23)
-Me, Youngest child (18)
*Father Divorced since I was 2
~Bob's Family~
-Bob, Dad (48)
-John, Oldest Son (26)
-Rick, Youngest Son (20)
*Wife divorced

About 5 years ago, my mother met Bob. I was 13 at the time. This was the first relationship they had been in since they had gotten divorced from their previous spouses. They were, and still ARE, very much in love. A few months after they started dating, Bob introduced us to his children, John (then 21) and Rick (then 15).
I was pretty innocent, and hadn't even started going through puberty yet. Rick, however, was in the throes of puberty, and horny as hell. It took all of three days for him to start hitting on me. I, being a geeky little pre-teen who didn't get much attention from boys because of my appearance, got swept up very quickly in his advances. It took him about another week to ask me to perform oral on him, and I blindly agreed. Then, very soon after that, he asked me if I wanted to have sex. I knew what sex was mechanically, but I had no idea what it actually entailed or what the consequences of it were. Our relationship was purely physical, and we kept it very well hidden. The following spring, right after I turned 14 (about four months from my "first time"), my Mom and Bob moved into a three bedroom trailer together. Rick had been rapidly exposing me to more and more sexual things, including pornography, and we were having sex whenever we could. When we moved in together, Rick's room was right next to mine, and the sexual contact increased to about twice a week. As the "newness" of it all started to fade away for me, I kept trying to end our relationship; but every single time I would say "We need to stop doing this", "You already have a regular girlfriend", and "NO, I don't want to!", he would either ignore me or counter with a stupid excuse. His favorites included "Oh, come on! Just one last time!" or "But I broke up with that girl now, so....", and then he would just continue on with his "task", even if I continued to object. (I will take responsibility and admit that I wasn't firm enough with him when I turned him down, and that after a few months of that kind of stuff, my willpower dwindled and I would try to fend him off half-heartedly before just caving because I knew he wouldn't leave me alone until he got off- or worse yet, he'd get all mad and just do it anyway.)
So, just like that, three years went by. My mental health was declining the whole time, and I would just feel worse about myself each time he did THOSE kinds of things. The sickest part was that, though our parents were just usually a few rooms away, he would do it anyway. I know we almost got caught a bunch of times, and one time he even made me perform oral sex on him, and in the progress he thrust in my mouth so hard that I vomited on the floor. All of this (in combination with my other past traumas and personal issues), especially knowing that I was "the Mistress" because he regularly dated other girls the whole time, weighed down on me so hard. And still no one had a clue, even though I tried to ask for help a few times. I even went to my school guidance counselor in tears once, because not only was he doing those kinds of things with me, but he also sat by and let others harass me/make fun of me. And when I tried to explain what the hell was wrong, she cut me off before I even told her about the sexual stuff, and said (I make a direct quote here, too): "SO WHAT??? Do you just want to sit around all day throwing a pity party for yourself???" Needless to say, I never sought her help again- EVER.
So, when I started my junior year, I really started to lose it. I began cutting myself more frequently and more severely (I had been doing some light, discreet cutting since I was 15), and by the end of that September, I finally voiced to my mom that I was suicidal (which, again, I had been thinking about for years, but never talked about it). It was when I was at the hospital (for the first time) that I told a counselor there about what had been going on. I was very vague at first, but when she told me that I should just "stop seeing the boy", I broke down and told her who it was, and what he was doing. I didn't know that she would have to report it to the state until she told me the next day that some social workers and cops were coming to question me about it because it was a hazard to my health.
So they came and talked to me, and I was so nervous that I left out a lot of details. Then they asked me if it was consensual, and I really didn't know what to do, so I just said it was. (Not entirely a lie; there were a few times that I agreed and even invited him to do things) To this day, very few people actually know what the manner of our relationship was.

Now let's shoot ahead. It's been over two years since the last time we had sex with each other. I have been hospitalized a total of nine time for psychiatric reasons, and haven't been in any kind of relationship since then. Part of me is glad to be out of a situation where I could get pregnant (ALL of the sex we had was unprotected); But still, part of me regrets saying anything. I miss that connection; but even more than that, when I look back on all of the times he made me do things that I didn't really want to do...... well, quite frankly, I am turned on. Now, the thought of being forced into something like that is highly erotic, and I have started fantasizing about it a LOT. I feel so messed up by it all; I mean, I have dirty dreams all the time now, I am not turned on by normal sex fantasies anymore (i.e.- Orlando Bloom naked, stuff like that- it doesn't do a thing for me anymore); the fantasies are graphic, dirty, forced, painful, and often includes odd fetishes (like bondage). I have found myself taking a very masochistic and submissive role in the fantasies, and this makes it all the harder for me to even TRY and date someone, because I'm afraid they'll be scared off by my perversions and preoccupation with sex. I still, to this very day, often think back about how "stupid" I was to say anything about us, how I could have done things to please him better, how I could have made it kinkier- all of it messes with my head so much!
And what's worse yet is that, even though he was forced to move out (which I blame myself for), we still have occasional contact with each other- and he acts like nothing happened. Like we were just good friends the whole time. He even talks about his girlfriend (whom I personally know), and how they are doing good, and moving in together, and now shes preggers with twins or some ******** (even though I doubt it is his, because she is kind of the town skank), and it just kills me to know I want him in that way and he wants nothing but friendship from me. I don't know what to do anymore with myself; I can't just avoid being in a relationship forever, but I just can't let him go. I am SO confused.... any advice for a broken soul?