My foster brother Mark wanted to be the “Alpha” male on the block. He would tell the teenage boys on our block that he would have “drinks” and “blow jobs” at our place. Guess which one I was slated for? The time that stuck out in my mind was a party he threw on a weekend night when my parents were out. He invited several boys over and they sat in a circle on the floor with the bottles of alcohol in the middle. They were spinning a bottle around and whoever it landed on had to take a drink out of the bottle closest to them. Mark hollared at me to come play with them, and he didn’t take no for an answer. He had promised the boys that if they came over with booze they would get a blow job-by me. Mark told me what to do and I said no way! “I am NOT putting their “PEE PEES” in my MOUTH! He locked me in the bathroom with a guy who was pulling down his pants, and stuck his DICK in my FACE. I was crying and saying “I don’t want to, please no, I want out!” but nothing worked. I was trying to get the door open and the boy was pushing my head down to his crotch; he was “ready” for action. I was crying so hard that Mark came back in and yelled at me to just do what he promised them I would. I was crying loudly so maybe my sisters would hear me, and the boy stuck his dick in my mouth. I was so shocked that I bit down and he pulled it back out and slapped my face. He was so pissed off with me and Mark, he stormed out of the bathroom and took his bottle and left, vowing that he would get a blow-job from somebody. Mark and the other boys decided that if I drank first I may be more inclined to endulge in their sexual pleasure, so I took the space on the floor the “bathroom boy” left open.
I am not sure what I drank, but they made me “catch up” with them by making sure the bottle landed on me. I was 5 or 6 years old. After the bottles were empty, and the boys were excited and drunk, we started dancing around, and I ended up back in the bathroom. I actually don’t remember what happened after another “crying defense” and a struggle of him pushing my head down and me crying (with my mouth CLOSED) I passed out. I don’t know how I got to bed, but I woke up in the morning completely naked, and covered in vomit. It was all over my wall, my bed, my sheets, and down the front of my bed on the floor. I cried for my mom, who came in and was completely confused. She asked me what I ate the night before and wrote it off as food poisoning. Mark came in the room when my mom went to get some medicine and told me not to say a word about last night or he would kill me. I cried and cried most of the day and felt horrible; I guess it was my first hangover.
From that point on I was on Mark’s radar. He would come get me after mom and dad put me to bed. We shared a bathroom, so he could get me without leaving his bedroom. He decided that I needed to be taught about sex and how “amazing” it was to experience. He made me lay on his bed; spread eagle, with my head off the end of the bed. He would “help me get wider” so I could have sex. I was 5 or 6. The bedtime lessons continued, even if I faked sleep, he would walk me in and I would “assume the position”. He tried using his fingers to stretch me out so on my birthday I would be ready for sex. He was planning another party, and I was to be the “piñata” in the middle; and this time no crying or biting-or he would tell my parents that I was watching him take showers. He was a really horrible manipulator, and it was such a mixed-blessing when my dad moved out and took Mark with him. I don’t remember if I ever saw him again, and I never told anyone, until I was having lunch with my younger sister some 20 years later.
My father would tell me about my “foster brother Mark” from time to time, and I never told him what he did. I do remember my father saying that Mark got arrested for some felony and was in prison-he died in the same place.
My father and mother broke up and my dad moved out, only a month or so before my birthday.