The Night I Let Him Use Me As His Sex Doll

I met him at a small law school event last semester. We were both there for an info session about summer clerkships, but we ended up talking more about our personal lives than the future of our careers. He's in his mid-twenties and a bit older than me, with short-cropped hair and sharp features that make him look like he means business. We hit it off, talked for hours. I thought maybe there was a real connection there, but after our first date, things started to feel different. The second time we got together, it was clear from the start he wasn't interested in me beyond physical attraction. He dominated every aspect of that night, what we did, how far we went. It felt like he wanted control over everything I did. By the third encounter, I realized what was happening: he saw me as nothing more than a sex toy to be used however and whenever he pleased. He wasn't asking for my pleasure or consent; it was all about him. I tried talking things out with him once. He just laughed, saying that's how people in law always talk, looking for loopholes and playing mind games. It made me feel small and stupid. I wanted to break up then and there, but I kept hoping maybe he would change, or perhaps it was all my own fault somehow. Then came last week when we met at his apartment after a night of drinking. As soon as the door closed behind us, he pushed me against the wall and took off my clothes like they were paper. His hands roamed freely over every inch of my body without even glancing at mine in return. I could feel myself getting wet just from his rough touch and demanding nature, it made me question if there was something wrong with me. We ended up spending hours together, him treating me exactly as he wanted. He tied me to the bedpost and took me over and over again without a single word of care or affection. It was incredibly intense and I felt completely used but couldn't seem to stop it. By morning, all that was left was this sick feeling in my stomach, a mix of guilt for allowing myself to be so objectified and shame for enjoying parts of it too. I know there's nothing wrong with having casual sex or being into BDSM play if both people agree on the boundaries beforehand, but something about how he treated me felt wrong. I didn't fight back because I was terrified he would see me as less than what he wanted, a fragile girl who couldn’t handle his power. Now, days later, my head is still spinning from that night and I’m struggling to understand why I let it happen again and again. Maybe someday I'll find someone who doesn't just want a piece of me but truly sees me as an equal partner worth caring for.