When I was in college, I met a preppy cute and slightly nerdy man who told me he was a multi-millionaire and wanted to be with me. He ended up being a drug dealer who lied about a lot of things, including his supposed wealth. I didn’t suspect he could be a compulsive liar when I first met him since he was a fellow UC Berkeley student who grew up in the Bay Area and went to a Catholic high school in the South Bay.

He eventually confessed to me he wasn’t wealthy, but I was still attracted to him. Later we talked about dating seriously, he claimed he was single, and we ended up hooking up again. I later found out he had a boyfriend and was lying compulsively again. After bad mouthing him to various people about his compulsive lies, he apologized and then invited me to go to a rave and to use ecstasy.

When we were back at my off-campus place, while I was peaking on ecstacy, he assaulted me, grabbing my erection with both hands and sort of crushing down as hard as possible on my shaft for about one to two seconds. I could barely talk at the time because I was peaking on ecstacy. It was an extremely fast and saddistic attack. I didn’t scream and was primarily confused and scared as he did it with the water from the shower falling down on us, so high I could barely think.

When he let go, I got out of the shower really quickly and ran behind a fouton. After this, he got out of the shower and dressed. I asked him, “What was that?” which were the only words I could articulate while peaking on ecstacy and he replied “What was what?” as though he hadn’t been attacking me. He then said he had to go and left. My injuries did not seem horrific immediately after this, and I didn’t go to the police or ER immediately after, but they got much worse over time and I saw multiple urologists. I had vein damage and other damage in my shaft and haven’t had a boyfriend in the many many years since then, and had three prior to that attack.

It’s difficult for me to climax during sex now and I have had panic attacks while hooking up with people since then, so with all the humiliation and depression and isolation, I have given up on romance and accepted being alone and unhappy, and even tried to commit suicide.

He wanted to work in tech and we both lived in the Bay Area and went to school at UC Berkeley, so if you work in tech, who knows, you may have met him. No one believes what he did to me, it feels like, and he always came across as polite, charming, and someone who could never hurt a fly. But sadly this is all true. When I met him, I felt like I had met Prince Charming. I sure was stupid.

I sometimes wonder if he had ever hurt or taken advantage of anyone else on ecstacy. I suspect he has not and he just had a particular hatred for me.

After I had stopped talking with him, he sent me a handwritten apology letter about a year after it happened saying he was sorry for lying to me and his behavior, but never admitting to the attack. I called him once about it (after the letter) and he said he didn’t remeber what happened after the rave but maybe whatever i am remembering is something i am misinterpreting because we were on ecstacy.

He also told mutual friends and aquaintances that we never had sex at all and had just been friends. I had received multiple Valentine’s Day cards from him and he had fucked me. He portrayed me as crazy while my mental health declined. Ultimately, people did not believe me.