What's to educate? Rape isn't about love or even lust: rape is some dickhead (pardon the entendre) seeking to feel powerful by forcing themself on someone weaker than s/h/it is. There are really only two ways to break that particular chain of thinking: a bullet to the head or a lifetime in a cage that keeps the perp in, and the potential victims out. Both ultimately end the same way though - with the perp feeding the worms, and discussing his inadequacies with his maker in the hereafter. One - the cage - just takes longer to get there because of the moral cowardice of the soociety that uses it for this.
Well, I'll tell my story, and I think the fact he drank contributed to his desire to feel powerful.
I knew a guy for three years. He was recently divorced from his wife and I knew he was attracted to me, but I also don't like being a rebound. So when he invited me over and I could hear the slur in his words on my Friday night (I worked Sunday-Thursday), I said "Okay, but just so you know, no hanky-panky". But I went over, and he had another friend over, which made me feel safer. It was rum that night, and a lot of it. I have the ability to be an alcoholic (I can drink quite a bit more than is enough to get me drunk, which is why I only drink in happy situations instead of using the alcohol to escape), and I never vomit. I could tell I was done when the rum bottle was done, and I said "Goodnight" to them and went to sleep on the couch. Both of them were still in the house, and went back to his bedroom to watch some movie on his computer. I remember falling asleep.
I woke up in his bed, with my jeans halfway down my thighs, and my bra unfastened but still holding my boobs so I know I didn't take any of my clothes off. What woke me up (it felt like coming out of a tunnel) was him penetrating me, and when I went to the bathroom after I could see he'd used lube. I was on my side, and he was behind me. I was lucky he wasn't on top of me, because he outweighed me by 200 lbs. I said "No" as loudly as I could but it may have been a mumble, and when I felt another thrust I LEAPT out of the bed (that was when I realized the state of my clothing) and went and curled up on his couch. All I could think of was that I was too drunk to drive and go home.
He came out a few minutes later, angry, asking why I got up. I said "How did I get in your bed?" He said, emphatically and still rather angrily, "I carried you!" "Did I move?" "When I picked you up, you rested your head on my chest, but other than that, no." "Did I speak?" "You mumbled something before you got out of bed."
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I left when I was sobered up, went to the ER to have a kit done (they found no semen or DNA as he'd used a condom, but did find lube) and reported it when he was continually texting and harassing me and I wasn't answering except the fifth out of about 50 texts to which I said "Just leave me alone."
The investigators agreed it was rape, had me wear a wire to try to get him to admit it, but I was falling apart and word had gotten out that I was talking to the police. So that didn't work. He admitted everything to the detective who finally interviewed him, but said he thought I was consenting because I didn't say "no", though he admitted I didn't say yes or help at all with the removal of my clothes -- that it was like he was moving a rag doll (I saw the transcript of the interview). He didn't even get a stalking charge, the prosecuting attorney declined to prosecute on any of it.
Me? I would have been happy if they'd pled him down and sent him to alcohol treatment. But they didn't even do that.