Not quite, Estelle

When I prepare myself mentally for an experience; when I create coping mechanisms for potential situations, the fear, anxiety and uncertainty that would have otherwise been provoked by the situation, is dulled. It’s a good strategy for coping with life, but it can make things too predictable, boring. I am starting to see that I like a little bit of fear, and uncertainness injected into play. I like when I don’t know what is coming. I want to be afraid, nervous, excited. I want to feel my skin prickle, and to startle at every sound. I want to feel like something terrible could happen…just because I have the safetynet at the back of my mind, knowing that Master would never really hurt me.

So here, I will explore the rape fantasies I have long suppressed.

The key to acting out such a fantasy would be the element of surprise. There would have to be a diversion. Maybe Master would leave me at home and tells me he’ll be back in a few hours and gives me a task to do; something to keep me occupied, something to keep me in an area where
I’m not watching the door, where I’m oblivious to my surroundings because I’m so engrossed in what I am doing.

Then, before I realize it, there’s a hand over my mouth, fingers underneath my thin, leather collar, twisting it, tightening the band around my neck. He is silent, doesn’t want to give himself away by speaking in that voice I know and trust. I want to be scared. I want it to be him, I’d want a sign that it was him and not some manic stranger…but I’d like the fear to rise a moment more, as I wait and see. He would blindfold me, and pin me down. I would writhe and squeal.
There would be a struggle. Then, my defeat.

He’d restrain me. It would be easy; I always have my wrist and ankle cuffs on, so he’d clip my wrists behind my back. Then he’d tie up so that I couldn’t struggle anymore. He’d strip off my clothes…angrily, roughly. He’d do something to disorient me…drag me around, maybe by my hair. I want to be confused, to not know where I am exactly.

Then he’d torture me somehow. He’ll use everything I hate; the nipple clamps…he’d torture my breasts. And when I protest, he’d slap me so hard. Maybe he’d speak to me profanely, in a way he never usually would…so that even though the voice would be familiar, I’d be transported to a different reality and the fear would continue to rise.

There would be no mercy in this fantasy. He would hurt me, and I would cry. He would make me kneel in front of him, and fuck my mouth so hard and quick, until I couldn’t breathe. He would bend me over, and fuck my ass while I begged for it to be over.

Then, when he is finished, he would discard me in a heap on the floor…as if I were a worthless, used toy. He'd leave. And I would wait in silence for a period of time more, writhing, trying to get free of my bonds. Fed up and wanting my Master back. Waiting, with anticipation for something warm and comforting to juxtapose the violence.

Logistically…can a ‘realistic’ rape fantasy be worked out? I don’t know. It would definitely require creativity and opportunity, it would have to eliminate the danger without eliminating the fear. I think if well executed, a rape fantasy would terrify me at the time…especially if there was a huge element of uncertainty about whether my attacker was really Master. However, I think this element of fear would be exhilarating.