WARNING: The below account of child sexual abuse, shared in his own words by the young man who was abused, is extremely graphic, contains a great deal of profanity, and is very disturbing. Please do NOT read it if you are not prepared to be upset by what you read!

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My Story of Child Sexual Exploitation

and Sadistic Sexual, Physical and Emotional Abuse

by Jack from Canada

I am a survivor of child sexual exploitation. The absolute hell that I went through all those years ago still haunts me to this day, both the memories and the physical, mental and emotional damage that unfortunately will never completely heal. I would not wish what I went through on the Devil himself. I hope some of you find my story to be helpful and if I can reach at least one man, woman or child, then I know sharing my painful past will have been worth it. The following is my story...

Ok, where to start. I was around 5 or 6 years old when the abuse started. It all started when I was at a Youth Group meeting and I had to go to the bathroom. I was walking to the hallway in the corner of the gym where the bathrooms were. I was met in the hallway by the leader of the group. I forget his name but he asked me where I was going and I said I had to go to the bathroom. He said he would "help" me.

I knew how to use the toilet, so I didn't need help, but I allowed him to accompany me. When I was finished he grabbed a kleenex off the counter and was "cleaning" me off. He threw the kleenex in the toilet, but continued to touch me. These trips to the bathroom with him eventually became routine, and I just accepted it as his "help". Then, when I was 6 or 7, I graduated to the next level up of the Youth Group. And it is here where the truly sadistic acts of abuse took place.

The first memory I have of being abused in this new Youth Group was when I was taken to the basement of the church. There was a general rule, and that was to never go into the basement. It was "off limits". Anyways, one night the leader of the group said he wanted to talk to me about something, (I forget what exactly) but it was important. He led me out of the gym, and led me down the concrete steps into the basement. We went down the hall, turned a left, and entered the first room on the left.

All the doors were steel, and the walls were made of solid concrete. I remember that there was a small table and chairs on the right wall, and in the far corner, there was a cot, or some type of bed. He didn't turn the lights on because there was a yellow-tinted window above the bed, which let in enough light. He told me to take off my uniform. I did, down to my underwear. And then he told me to take the underwear off too. I remember tears streaming down my face as I did it. Then he said that I was perfect, and started caressing and kissing me.

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For those who have come to this page from the Harm Stories page, and who have already read the beginning of this story, continue reading the story from here.

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He eventually worked his way down to my penis and started rubbing me. This went on for a while, until he was satisfied. I put my clothes back on and returned to the other kids. At the next meeting, he took me by the hand and led me down to the same room. This time he said he wanted to know how good I was at sucking cock. (His words). I didn't understand him, so he said he would show me. He took off his belt, unzipped his pants, and showed himself to me. I asked him what he wanted me to do. He said he wanted me to put his penis in my mouth and suck on it. So I did.

After a couple of seconds he roughly grabbed my head and forced himself down my throat. I gagged and he pulled out and I threw up, and collapsed, sobbing. He yelled at me, then grabbed my hair, pulled me up, and punched me in the eye. This was my very first experience with violence, but it certainly wasn't the last.

The week after that, he forced me to give him oral sex again. This time he didn't use as much forced, but he finished on my face. I was scared shitless because I didn't know what it was. He just said it was cum, and now I was his "sex slave" and he owned me. He also said to me that I shouldn't tell anyone about this because no one would believe me.

This happened again the next week. The week after that he told me to undress again. So I did. I remember there was something in his hand, but I didn't know what. He told me to get on the bed and to lie on my stomach. I said I didn't want to, so he roughly picked me up, dropped me on the bed, and punched me in the stomach and told me again to lie on my stomach. I was really scared, and had no idea what was coming. He lubed himself up, and forced himself inside of me.

I will never, ever forget the pain. I immediately started screaming and sobbing, and he said that I could scream all I wanted, that no one would hear me. I remember he was very rough, and I could feel everything. It was horrible. I could feel the blood. When he finally finished, I curled up in a ball, sobbing. I remember I could feel his semen and my blood. It made me feel so dirty, so disgusting. This also happened the next week.

Oddly enough, the week after that, nothing happened. But the next week, he took my hand and told me he had someone he wanted me to meet. So we walked out of the gym and met a strange man at the door. They both led me down to the room, told me undress and wait on the bed. I was terrified, absolutely terrified. Then they both came in and the man from the Youth Group told me that the other man was going to have me. I started crying, but didn't say no, I honestly couldn't speak. The other man then asked the Youth Leader if he had any rope. He came back with rope and the forced my hands behind my back and tied them, and then tied my feet together. He then proceeded to rape me very violently, without any lubrication. It honestly felt like he was using a sandpaper condom, without the condom. I can't remember ever feeling a pain as intense as that.

He called me degrading things, and forced me to say them to him. Things like, "I'm a fucking faggot, I'm such an evil boy, I'm a whore, slut, fag, cunt, pussy etc., I'm a girl, I deserve this, etc etc." They would compare me to a whore or a slut, and compare me to females. I remember they would comment on how tight I was. They would sometimes regard me as "fuck-toy", and call me as such. I remember crying out for my mommy when they were fucking me, and they would either laugh at me, or hit me to make me shut up.

I can still vividly remember when the men would rape me. I can still hear their grunts, fast breathing, the things they said to me. I can remember when they would finish inside me. I felt so fucking humiliated, dirty, damaged, degraded. The pain was immense, both physically and psychologically. It literally felt like they were ripping me apart, because they were. I remember I would bleed a lot, which shows that they were literally ripping my insides apart. The physical pain was agonizing, I would sometimes see spots in my field of vision because the pain was causing me so much agony. They took my soul, my very sense of self, and tore it up, stomped on it, spit on it and left it in the dirt.

After he finished raping me, he started beating me, leaving me with several large bruises on my body and a black eye. The Youth Leader came in and also raped me. I remember there were times when I was raped so violently that I lost control of all my bodily functions. I would be screaming, "Stop!, please stop!, no! " into the gag. But they didn't care until I shit all over their penises. They would give me a few punches or kicks when I did that. It would just hurt so much because they were so rough with me. They wanted to cause me as much pain as possible, and my small body couldn't handle that kind of violent abuse/rape and the physical agony caused by it. The abuse caused me physical damage to the point that I had trouble holding feces in, and I struggle with that to this day. (I can keep in solid waste but I have trouble with liquid). It was so embarrassing, degrading and humiliating. It was truly depraved.

Those were the absolute worst nights of my life, future and past. Lying there in my own blood, shit and piss was the most humiliating, degrading, and the most horrible time of my life. I would always plead with them before they abused me. I would usually start crying, pleading with them to leave me alone. And I would be pleading with them during the rapes and abuse, screaming, "Please, no" into the gag, between sobs and screams. They would usually respond with, "You're our slave, our little fuck-toy, and you'll do what we want. We own you, and you belong to us."

This continued for the next few months, and included with the bondage was the use of a makeshift gag and blindfold. This really scared me because I couldn't scream, and I couldn't see anything. It really psychologically scarred me. I remember that I would struggle against the ropes, but they tied them too tight. When they would tie my legs together, I remember they would spread my ass and then force themselves inside me. It hurt so much every time. I can still sometimes feel themselves inside me and the immense, white hot pain that follows. I remember I could hear their fast panting, harsh, degrading words, and the sound of their groin slapping my ass. I can feel the sickening sensation when they would finish inside me and how dirty and disgusting it made/makes me feel. I HATE that I can still hear, feel, see and smell everything like it just happened the night before.

I remember for the first month or two I would bleed, but after a while I stopped. I still wonder if a doctor would be able to notice today if I was raped, because there must still be scar tissue in my rectum. Each time, the Youth Leader would bring a man (I`m still not sure if it was the same man, or different men) and they would both rape me and usually beat me. I also remember that when I was forced to perform fellatio on either of them, they would usually finish on my body, usually my face. The other times, they would forced me to swallow their semen. They also threatened my life and the life of my family if I told anyone.

All of this abuse was absolutely disgusting, degrading and humiliating. There were more than a few times where I was forced into double sex acts. Usually the strange man would be anally raping me, while I was being forced to perform fellatio for the Youth Leader. Sometimes, the anal rape would hurt so much that I would accidentally bite the leader`s penis. I would usually get beaten when I did that, all the while, some strange man was continually raping me.

It's just so upsetting for me to know that two men were violating me, raping me, at the same time. It just made me feel more like a worthless whore. The positioning of it was that my knees were bent and my butt in the air. Some of this occurred when I was tied or blindfolded, which only added to the horror of it. The man would hold my head and force himself in my mouth. He would also just hold my head and fuck my mouth. I gagged and tried not to throw up. They were rough with me... very rough. There were times when I couldn't breathe because one of their penises was in my throat, effectively choking me.

I remember one of these incidents very well, where I was choking and the man was getting pleasure from my body's attempts to rid the blockage from my throat. Then, when I was about to pass out, he removed himself from my mouth and left me gasping for air, screaming and crying. And the man just laughed. I was so scared. I just felt like a sex object. I just wanted them to leave me alone. They would say degrading things to me. They would slap or punch me. When one of them was raping me, he said, in between my sobs and screams, he looked down, laughed, and said my tight fucking ass was bleeding like a bitch. I remember when I was forced to do this, they would call me a good-for-nothing whore. They would call me a cunt, a fuck toy, a slut. "You fuck like a dirty whore. That's all you are is a dirty fucking slut."

After it was done, I had their semen everywhere, and again, I was bleeding. I had semen on my face and running down my chin. I felt so humiliated, so degraded, objectified and so dirty. Then they untied me. I curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth, crying. They were getting dressed and still, they mocked and made fun of me. They said that what they did was all I'm good for. They saw the blood and then said how fucking tight I was. One time, when one of them was fucking me, he said, "How do you like this you little slut?", and it just hurt so bad that I was sobbing and screaming, "It hurts! It hurts!", and he just said, "Well you better get used to it you whore."

They would do anything they wanted to me. I was so scared and horrified that after it was done, I wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone. There were quite a few times where one of the men would loop a length of rope around my neck, and choke me while they were raping me. I don`t remember ever loosing consciousness, but there were a few close calls. Then, there are two times that I can remember, where they would cut me. They used a pocketknife, and would tie me up and usually gag me, and would make small cuts on my body. Not bad cuts, but usually enough to draw blood. They also held the knife to my throat and threatened to slit my throat from ear to ear if I told anyone about what was going on. They would also hold the knife to my throat during the rapes, which only added to the absolute horror to it. After any of the abuse sessions I would be so sore, torn up, bloodied, dirty with semen/blood/shit/puke/sweat/saliva, bruised and exhausted.

One of the times I was in the basement, I remember there were three men there. One of them was stroking my face, saying he wasn't going to hurt me. I was shaking and crying and I was pleading with them to let me go. I was crying, and I was saying I wanted to go home, that I wanted to see my mom. The door was closed, and I just bolted to it... but it was locked. One of the men picked me up and threw me on the floor. They then said that if I ever told, or ran away, they would go after my family. I told them I would do whatever they wanted, as long as my family was safe. They decided to tie me up, and then they raped me. This was one of the times when I lost control of everything, because I was just in so much physical pain from the rape.

They were always really loud when they hurt me. Their panting, grunts, and harsh, degrading words were always so loud and angry. This is why I'm afraid of loud noises and when people are angry, even if it's not directed at me. I recently remembered that there was a camera in the room during one of the abuse sessions. I remember being anally raped and I turned my head and saw a red light and a camera lens. I just really hope that the video(s) weren't put on the Internet. Just thinking about other sick men getting off on my abuse just makes me want to puke. And if it is on the Internet, then there's no possible way of getting it off. The good thing is that the room where the abuse took place was dimly lit, so I don't think that I would be identified. But just knowing that my abuse is out there somewhere in physical, visual form, is just highly disturbing. I just don't want pictures out there of me covered in semen and blood. It would just add to the humiliation and shame that I already heavily feel.

I remember that we were selling apples one day. The leader was in my group for supervision. It was about 2 or 3 in the afternoon when he convinced the other leaders to send a few of us kids with him to a nearby village to sell apples. I remember on the way there, the clouds seemed so dark, so ominous. When we got to the village, he told the other kids to sell apples down the street while he took me up a gravel road. I remember looking across the street and seeing a small old barn covered in vines. He led me up to a run-down house with a tiny old cemetery next to it. It was a very creepy place.

The leader knocked on the door and a man answered. They led me in and the next parts were kind of a blur. I remember there was a small group of men, maybe... 4 or 5. And I remember having to have sex with at least 3 of them and giving the other two oral. One of the men who raped me bit my ear till it bled while he was raping me. I remember their panting, grunts and moaning. I was clenching the edges of the mattress so hard that my nails were digging into the fabric. One of the men who anally raped me pulled his dick out of me, and forced himself in my mouth. It tasted so disgusting, but I managed to not throw up. He was rough, and shoving his dick down my throat. I was sobbing when he pulled out and ejaculated on my face.

I was so fucking humiliated, embarrassed and degraded. I was bleeding by the end and could feel their semen inside me coming out of me and in between my legs. I could taste the salty, disgusting taste in my mouth. I had their semen on my face and in my hair. I was torn up, extremely sore, bloodied, bruised and forever traumatized. That day I truly felt like a whore. I felt so fucking dirty. I was sobbing at the end, curled up in a ball, naked, on that mattress. I was led to a bathroom where I cleaned myself up, and dressed myself.

After it was over, we got the other kids and left back for town. I remember the searing pain when I sat down in the backseat of the car. It felt like electricity was going up through the center of me. It all just hurt so much. I still remember the ride back, I was looking up at the sky through the window, wishing I would just be set free. I had an emotionless face the whole ride home. By this time, I had become a master of hiding my emotions and keeping up my happy exterior while my humanity rotted on the inside.

After the apple drive, the abuse continued. I guess the man who went from my ass to my mouth told my abusers what he did to me, because one of the men did that to me after that day. He was anally raping me when all of a sudden he pulled out of me, turned me around, and shoved his dick down my throat. This time, he was so rough with me that I puked all over his dick. I was sobbing when the man slapped me and told me to shut up. That's all I remember of that.

There were times when our Youth Group went on overnight camping trips. This just came to me today, but I remember some horrible things happening at a campground about 8 miles out of town. I remember it was the first night, and one of the other kids told me that the guy who abused me wanted to see me in his cabin. I went inside and there was a bunk bed on the far wall and a dresser by the window. He grabbed me and threw me on the bed. He took off my clothes and then tied my legs to the bedposts and my arms above my head. It was about 8 or 9 at night. I remember he raped me, and then 3 other men came in and raped me too. I wonder if they were the same ones from the house, I think they were, but I'm still not sure.

They beat me, raped me, and spit on me. They said degrading things during the abuse. They were really rough and it just felt like they hated me. I remember clenching the sheets so hard that my knuckles hurt. I felt so used. I felt like nowhere was safe from these people. I was so scared. It just hurt so much, being abused again and again by different people. I didn't even fight back. I just laid there and took it. They said, "You're such a good little fuck-doll. You fuck just like a whore." I was bleeding and they pointed and laughed. They said they "popped my cherry." They said I was their ""fucking little whore, their own little sex slave." They said I was a good-for-nothing little slut and that all I was good for was pleasing them. Then the one man leaned over and said if I told anyone, they would do the same things to my sister and mother, and then they would kill me. It was around 1 or 2 am when they finally were done with me and untied the ropes. I remember going back to my cabin and getting into bed with tears streaming down my face.

After about a year into the abuse, I learned to separate my mind from my body. I have a lot (probably more than half) of memories where I could see everything going on, like I was floating above the abuse. But there were also times where I was unable to leave the abuse, and I experienced and endured all the torture and pain they dished out to me. I still don`t know if seeing the abuse happening is a blessing or a curse, because I could see the tears and pain on my face. And I could see this huge man raping a small child, usually with my hands and feet bound.

All of this shit is deeply, deeply disturbing. I still can`t believe these men considered me their sex slave, but that is basically what I was to these sick fucks. But I had decided that there was no way out of this, and that I should just accept it. Anyways, so this sadistic abuse took place over the course of 3-4 years. I remember the day after one of the meets and the subsequent rapes, I said "enough." I said to my dad that I had to get out of the Youth Group, that I would do anything. He said I had to pick something up to take its place. At first I said the clarinet, but he said he wouldn't buy me one. I look desperately around and saw my brothers old guitar in the corner of the room. So I asked if I could learn to play guitar, and he said "sure"!!! I have never been so relieved in my entire life. I believed that the abuse was finally over. How wrong I was.

So I was out of the Youth Group for about 6 months, when I was violently raped again in the woods near my home. You can see the story of that in one of my past journals. I currently have a sneaky suspicion that this was the strange man from my abuse in the Youth Group. Side note: I don't know who cleaned up after the abuse, but I think it was the leader's friend who cleaned up the mess afterwards. There was a bathroom in the basement that I was led to where I would clean myself up, and where I would get dressed.

I'm also thinking that overall, I don't think there were as many events as I once thought. I don't think it happened once a week, but maybe 3-4 times a month. (Sometimes there were two abuse events in one week.) But over the course of 2 years, that still adds up to a lot of abuse. I'm just thinking that I don't think I was abused as often as I previously thought.

There is a lot of evidence in my behavior that this was going on. I remember having an interest in S&M from about the age of 7 or 8. Like, what kid knows about that kind of thing at that age. I remember I would tie my feet together and masturbate, I would try to tie my hands together when I was alone. I would try to get other kids to tie me up, and one time, tried to get a female friend to let me lie in a hockey bag and have her zip it up.

I remember having an interest in knives, especially pocketknives, from an early age, and using them to make small cuts in my stuffed animals. I remember I engaged in autoerotic asphyxiation for a very short period of time. I would act out my abuse alone with my large stuffed animals. I also had sexual identity problems, like wondering if I was supposed to be born a girl. I also remember sleeping in my sister's room (on the floor next to her bed) during the abuse and for a number of years after. I believe that the reasoning behind this was that my sister represented everything that I had lost. Such things and qualities as innocence, purity, cleanliness, and a sense of joy, happiness and positiveness. This made me feel safe and protected, even though I knew she could never physically protect me or stop the abuse. Oh, and she is three years younger than me.

I also remember that I started being afraid of the dark around the time of the more severe abuse. Of course, this could be normal as a lot of children are afraid of the dark, but I just thought I'd throw it in here. So the evidence is really pilling up. The flashbacks to my abuse are extremely intense. The intense ones are really bad where I start shaking A LOT, I can feel pain all over my body, and there have been times where I have been physically sick from the intensity of the flashbacks. Lately, when I'm having a flashback, whenever I close my eyes I can feel everything happening to me. And when I open them, I can see everything happening to me from when I had my out-of-body experiences. The flashbacks, for me, are the worst.

Today I had an appointment at the doctors. I was triggered immensely because the doctor and the student doctor, who were both males, reminded me of my two regular rapists/abusers. It was so horrible. The following was my interpretation of what happened at the doctor's. It was skewed because I was triggered so severely along with the physical happenings with the rectal exam. So I had an appointment with the doctor today down in the city and it was absolutely horrible. It was pretty much a worst case scenario. The doctor as so creepy and my skin crawled every time he touched me. He took my hand and started talking about how he knew about my past and to just relax, but the way he said it, he almost sounded sarcastic and I knew he didn't mean any of it, he was just feigning interest. This doctor was just so insensitive and he just gave off such a creepy vibe.

Anyways, and then I had to go through the procedure itself which was really triggering. There was a student doctor there and when I sat up after the procedure, I saw him leaning over, looking at my privates. And then the doctor noticed the scars on my leg and had the audacity to start talking about it and why I did it. I mean, fuck off, seriously, are you a fucking psychiatrist/psychologist? Anyways, I couldn't get out of there fast enough. He did manage to get the job done though. He told me he found evidence of the sexual abuse from damaged muscles in my rectum.

The thing that is really sick about all this, is that when I went back to the room where I was sadistically abused, the church had converted the room into a nursery!!! I couldn't believe it. One thing is that I feel like I can relate to survivors of sex trafficking. I find when I watch movies about this subject, I can relate to what those young women and children go through. My abusers didn't let me leave the basement until they were satisfied. They also threatened my life and my family's lives if I told anyone or went to the police. They also told me I was their sex slave, which technically I was.

I also don't know if there were only two abusers involved or more. Really, the only differences between what I went through and what survivors of sex traffic went/go through, is that they were taken from their country and all things familiar to them. It just makes me feel better to know that there are people out there that know exactly what I went/going through. One thing that I have realized, is that I'm actually a survivor of a form of sexual slavery. Through the use of restraints, gags, blindfolds, chokings, being cut, rapes, sexual abuse, beatings, threats of death against me and my family, and they said it themselves... they essentially "owned" me, and I was their sex slave.

So this realization that I am a survivor of sexual slavery has made me feel a variety of emotions. I sometimes feel good knowing that there are people who know what I'm going through. But there are a lot of negative emotions just around the fact that this happened to me. Anyways, I still have a long way to go. Ok, so I just kinda realized that I am a survivor of sexual slavery and trafficking.

I've never thought of my abusers as pedophiles, because they were violent, forceful and they just hated me. That's why I don't like the word "pedophile" to describe my perpetrators. I would rather call them sadists, or misopedists. (Men who hate children). I'm also having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I was literally their sex slave. I don't want to believe it because then they would have had complete control over everything that is me, and that scares me... it scares me a lot. I just have a lot to come to terms with. Nonetheless, I've just come to this conclusion because I was raped by at least 8 men. If you know my story, I think it would make sense.

This, for me, makes it more important to tell the police, but I'm terrified to do so. If it's even semi-organized, then I'm afraid that someone could hurt me. They said they would kill me if I ever told, and I've had that fear ever since I left the Youth Group. It's just so painful knowing that there were 8 men who thought of me (as a young child!) as nothing more than a sex object. It just crushes me. It's so hard to wrap my head around. I thought this type of thing only happened in major cities... how wrong I was. It's just incredibly painful to think about.

Anyways, another thing that supports my idea is that the town I grew up in had a lot of sex offenders. I would read in the paper all the time that there were guys trying to pick up children in vans and cars. That a man would approach a child and try to lure them somewhere. And my town only had a population of 6500 people! Like, my town was the epicenter for pedophiles and sex offenders of the surrounding counties. I think this is why I recognize with survivors of sex trafficking and sex slaves, and also with survivors of any kind of sexual violence/abuse.

This is hard to talk about because if it were just the two men who regularly abused me, and then 6 random people, somehow I think that would be better. But the fact that they all knew each other is just really painful to think about. Especially because they knew what was going on, but none of them did anything to help me. I have a feeling that the main Youth Leader (who was my friend's dad) knew about it. My mom told me he actually left the organization because he knew that rape and abuse was going on, but he decided to turn a blind eye and then just walk away, without helping anyone!!! This is why I have almost no faith in humanity. It's fucking sickening is what it is.

The following is what I go through during an intense flashback. Ok, I just came out of the shower where I sat sobbing uncontrollably for half an hour. I'm still sobbing and I don't know what to do. I wish they would've killed me. Why couldn't just one of them choke me to death. Or why couldn't they had just slit my throat like they said. They had absolute no mercy. They decided to let me live with the sick things they did to me. I mean, I was raped by up to 8 men, and none of them had any conscious to tell someone. Couldn't any of them see how much pain I was in? Like, couldn't they see they were destroying my soul, my very sense of self? I don't believe these were just normal people. These were demons. I mean, there's no way that a man could do this to a fucking child! I wonder what they hated most about me? My innocence? My love of life? My trust in humanity? I hate them. I hate them so much. I have completely lost my trust and faith in humanity. I am a shell. A shell of what once was.

I wonder what it would be like to be a prostitute. How much money could I bring in a week? Like seriously, it can't possibly get any worse than this. After going through what I did, I can't imagine what would be worse. I feel so alone, so cold and alone. I don't know what to do. How did it come to this... I no longer fear hell, for I have been there for 12 years. This is basically how I think of myself. I feel like an object. I feel like all I am is a whore, a dirty fucking whore to be used and abused by men. A person to be used and thrown away. I feel like less of a person. I feel like all I'm good for is sex, and all I'm good for is pleasing men. I feel like the only reason I'm here is to sexually please men. I don't know who I am. I look in the mirror, trying to find myself, the real me, and I can't find him. All I see is a whore. All I see is someone who's not a real person. I just see a piece of meat.

So, if you made it this far, I applaud you. This was not an easy journal to write, and I don't think it was an easy journal to read. I hope that this inspires you to write about your own abuse or rape. Thank you for taking the time to read this, it means A LOT to me.

Take care and much love,

Jack

P.S. If anyone has any respectful comments that you would like to share about my story, for instance how it has helped you or what you learned from it, please comment below. (Scroll down on this page.) I would find it very helpful and therapeutic to hear from others about how reading my story has affected you and what it has meant to you. So please comment if you have anything you'd like to say, and I will check this page regularly to read the comments and will comment back if needed or appropriate. Thanks.

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AntiPornography.org note: The above story may not seem to have much to do with pornography, but in fact it does. The abusers in this story were clearly trained by the "script" of pornography, and were clearly acting out that script on Jack that they had been programmed by. It is no coincidence that the abusers used the language that they did, and that they engaged in the specific sort of sexual abuse that they did. All of it is straight out of what is now standard, mainstream pornography. (Although of course standard mainstream pornography does not have children as the individuals being sexually abused. The multibillion-dollar illegal CHILD pornography industry, however, DOES use children for their filmed sexual abuse. In regular adult pornography, instead of a child, the role of the abused victim is usually assigned to vulnerable young women who are usually already survivors of child sexual abuse themselves, which is usually what allows them to accept the abuse that they are subjected to in pornography, as it is their "normal" and therefore what they gravitate to because of the familiarity.)

Pornography was undoubtably the training manual, programming and inspiration for the child sexual abuse of Jack. It is almost certain that at first the abusers gained pleasure by masturbating to sadistic sex acts being carried out on the screen by others in pornographic videos Then they likely progressed, as is often the case, to wanting to carry out those sadistic sex acts on a real-life victim. Then they progressed to filming the sexual abuse that they themselves carried out, so that others could watch it and take sexual pleasure from it. This would begin the cycle all over again for others.

What the above story (and the understanding of how pornography almost certainly trained Jack's abusers) makes abundantly clear, is that addressing pornography and its harms is equal to -- and equally as important as -- addressing child sexual abuse in and of itself, as pornography is clearly the FUEL that keeps the epidemic fire of child sexual abuse burning out of control across the world.

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