CN: stealthing/rape, brief mention of domestic violence.

[Part 1 of this post is here]

On my way from his place to the tube, I stick my headphones in and whack on some loud, jaunty tunes. Force of habit. There’s an upbeat soundtrack playing to the blood thumping in my ears. Walking to the station after getting stealthed I remember thinking that I should probably be crying. I should be sad. I should be feeling used and hurt and frightened and small. But I’m not, not right now. I’ll definitely feel all those things in the coming days, but right now if I have to label it the thing I am feeling is ‘rage.’ I’m not ‘sad’, I am incensed. I have a lot of thoughts about what happened, but the one that’s clearest in my mind is that I will tell this story.

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CN: rape

I wanted to sit down this morning and write something horny about the hot guy I shagged the other day. And I will, I promise. But unfortunately, around the same time I shagged that hot guy, I got raped. And while this delicious brand of calm, white-hot rage still flows through my veins, that’s the only story I’m interested in telling.

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Dirty little secret time, people: I have a kink for misogyny. An intense, horny, fucked-up passion for men who will treat me like shit. And before I delve into some of my more detailed treat-me-like-shit fantasies, I wanted to do some preamble to explain why this is only ever hot when I’m playing life on ‘sandbox’ mode. What’s horny in my mind and during roleplay is actively horrifying in real life. In case it wasn’t screamingly obvious: that’s why it gets me really wet.

Note that this post includes examples of violent misogyny, non-consent and rape – both the fantasy versions (hot!) and real-life ones (not!). 

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Note, before we begin, that this post is going to describe a rape fantasy. I use the phrase ‘rape fantasy’ instead of something softer like ‘consensual non-consent scene’ because I think it’s more accurate. As with any fantasy, the fact that someone enjoys it in their head does not mean they’ll necessarily enjoy it in real life, and so my writing should on no account ever be taken as a justification to do anything like this with your partners. Nor even, if I’m the one you’re fucking, should you take it as permission to do it to me. If you fully understand this, and you’re not going to be freaked out by the idea of that, let’s talk about why ‘sorry’ is the hottest word you can say at the moment of climax.

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