Kneeling before Him...
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Sunday, January 25, 2004
I have a rape fantasy. It is a very scary thing for me to admit. Rape is wrong, very wrong and I know women are hurt by it, more women than we will ever know, and it happens every day. Yet I am not alone in having a rape fantasy, many women have them. Some women try and live them out with their partners. I don't want to live my rape fantasy. I am quite content to keep it as a fantasy. I will admit though, there are times that Mac and I will be mucking around playfully and He will get the better of me and pin me down and my playfulness will turn to immediate lust at being His captive. I can't help it, being helpless whilst I know I am safe, turns me on.
I used to be ashamed of my fantasy. I had good reason to be, my older sister whom I respected and loved told me it was disgusting. When I was a teenager I had a book that was a favourite of mine. It was a throwaway novel called 'Torture Tomb' (I cant remember the author). It was about a twenty year old woman that was kidnapped and sold to these two men that made 'snuff films' in a dungeon they had dug into the ground. Whilst there she was tortured and raped and made to perform acts she found degrading. In the end witches and a guy that was into BDSM rescued her. I found it very arousing and I would often masturbate whilst reading it, or while imagining a scene from the book.
Then I gave it to my sister to read. She was disgusted. She never even made it into the heavy stuff, just the first few paragraphs in. She told me I was a freak to be reading such things and called me sick and I realised that I was the only one who had thoughts like this and I threw the book away, but I never stopped thinking about it.
There was a time about a year into this relationship with Mac that I got angry with myself for still having fantasies like that and I decided to tell Him about them. I did it over a few days, starting with a rather tame fantasy with a 'look at what Your sweet girls thinks about, can't You see how terrible she is' email while He was at work. His reply was, 'Baby, you are so erotic.' So the next day I got dirtier and His reply was 'I adore your sexuality.' And the next day I got dirtier still. Each night W/we had noisy messy sex and the next day I would try and show Him my disgusting side again.
Then came the rape fantasy. I told Him this in person, tentatively, whispering, unable to look at Him. I didn't actually tell Him what the fantasy entailed, just about the book and my sister's disgust and how I enjoyed reading about the rape, masturbated to it and even had a fantasy of my own about rape that I masturbated too. He wasn't shocked and He wasn't horrified, He said it was a normal fantasy that many women have. He wasn't disgusted in me and He didn't think I was sick. He found it all very interesting and enticing. He never has fantasies about raping women, it's not His thing, but He wanted me to tell Him about my fantasy. He always is interested in what turns me on, in what makes me come.
When I had written Him the fantasy, He told me I was a good girl and that He loved me and I didn't need to think I was bad anymore. I was free to enjoy the wickedness of it and revel in this side of my sexuality. The anger at myself is gone.
Below I have written my rape fantasy. Please remember it is a fantasy and not at all something I would actually want to occur to me. If fantasies of this type bother you, please don't read it.
I can feel the awful stickiness of the rapist's spunk between my thighs as I run naked through the woods. I can hear them taunting me, crashing through the woods behind me, beside me, in front of me. I have nowhere to go. I don't know how many of them there are. Is it five? Six? How many of them have already taken a turn before setting me free so they can hunt me down and rape me again? I can taste the panic rising in my throat and all I can do is keep running.
They are coming for me and I am helpless. I can feel my blood dried across my thigh from where one guy has wiped his hand after he slapped me and made me bleed. I can taste my blood in my mouth from where my lip is cut and swollen. I can still remember how hard his prick felt inside me while two others held me down and they are going to do it to me again and again and I can't stop them.
Then I run into the sunshine and they capture me again. Struggling is no use but I do anyway, screaming and crying, trying to pull away. The guy whose turn it is looks at me in disgust and announces he will not fuck a used cunt, and orders them to hold me belly down against a large rock. I am thrown against this rock. The surface is hot from the sun and burns my skin. Two hold my arms and I am unable to move and I feel him kneel between my legs. He presses his cock against my ass and I start to scream and the guys holding my arms start to laugh and he shoves his cock into me. And while he fucks my ass, he pulls my head back by the hair and he bites my shoulders and neck and each time I scream the other guys laugh and he bites harder and harder. He tells me how much I am enjoying it, how much I love a cock in my ass, how much I long to be fucked like this. He knows I want to be fucked by men every night, he knows I am really a whore, a slut and that I want to be fucked every way possible constantly. He speaks in a low growl, almost like a lover, as the skin of my belly and tits is rubbed raw on the rock with each thrust he takes in my burning ass. He fucks me past the point of pain and when he comes in my ass my own orgasm is deep and strong and I shudder as he stands and wipes his cock clean in my hair and then they are gone.
I curl up in a ball to protect myself and I cry, shuddering uncontrollably. Then a voice taunts me from the woods and I know I have to run again.