It all started around October, 1978.  I wasn’t very popular at my school and didn’t have any friends. I also got bullied because as I wasn’t local to that school and traveled by bus each day, so I was an outsider. I think one of the teachers picked up on this and started to show an interest in me by being friendly to me. I didn’t see anything wrong in it. I actually like being noticed.

At the time, my hobby was digging up old antique bottles which were buried in the ground. This teacher found out about my hobby and suggested a new place to go and offered to take me there one day after school if I was interested. I was quite excited and arranged it with my parents.

The time came to go with the teacher to this place and it was great. I found a few really nice, old bottles and I was very happy. We went back to his car and washed our hands. When he got in the car to take me home, he suddenly put his hand on my knee. I just froze. Then he moved it slowly up my thigh until he was touching my penis and smiling. He told me, “You need to thank me now,” and took my hand and put it in to his trousers. I had to rub him until he finished and then he drove me home. He told me it was a normal way to thank him and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. He said that if I did, the whole school would know and my life would be miserable. That was the beginning. I never told anyone. I went to school as normal; everything carried on as it always did. The teacher was just the same as before.

About a week later he told me to stay after his lesson, which filled me with terror. He told me to tell my parents that I was spending that Saturday afternoon at a friend’s house and that he would pick me up to go looking for more bottles. I started lying to my family. He did pick me up but there were no bottles. He made me take his penis out and masturbate him then suck him. That’s how it went on every fortnight. I would have to tell my parents I was going to see a friend and he would pick me up and take me to his house to abuse me and make me pleasure him. By then, he was fully raping me.

After a couple of months of this, I was told to say I was having a sleep over at a friend’s house. This time at his house, two other men showed up and they took turns with me. This continued every fortnight for the next year, either an afternoon or an entire night of being used and raped by him and other men – sometimes up to four men. I was passed around between them.

I was starting to struggle at school and at home, trying not to show anything to arouse suspicion. This teacher was now my form teacher so the pain never went away.

Every fortnight, there was abuse. He even took me camping one weekend and it still happened. When I was 16, I had to spend the weekend with him and for the first time, he took me to another house. When we got there, the room was quite dark but I could see men sitting or standing around. I think there may have been eight men. They stripped me and I was tied up, kicked, slapped, and had things pushed into my anus. I was gang raped for several hours. I was eventually dumped in a bath and urinated on as they finished with me, another man came and bathed me, cleaned and dried me before he took me to a bedroom. I was left with him for the rest of the night and picked up in the morning by my teacher who took me home. That was the worst thing I had ever experienced. I was in so much pain, my bottom was bleeding. I had bruises but I still felt like I had to hide it from my family. I tried to cut my wrist, but couldn’t go through with it. I still have the scars.

After that, I only spent two more weekends with the teacher. I took my school exams, messed them up, and left school. I never heard from him again.

I can only speculate now that he was selling me to this group of men.

My first contact and relationship with a girl wasn’t until I was 24. We got married but it was a difficult relationship as I struggled with sex and intimacy. I felt like I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t be touched sometimes. In the end, she started to go with other men.

So Anna Elizabeth, that is my abuse from ages 14 to 16. I was groomed, raped, and sold to other men. It still haunts me to this day but I now have the most perfect wife. She is so loving, caring and understanding. I have confided in her about what happened and we are working through it together I have recently started counselling.

Sexual assault did not win. Today, I am thriving as a person. Today, I am thriving as David Wakefield.

P.S. the school teacher died on 26 April, 2016 while in prison. He was serving a sentence for the molestation of a 15 year old boy.

Sadly, I never got my justice.
David Wakefield