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Why did that feel like another threat? And why does my heart begin to race at the thought of being his prey?
Social media makes you think you have all this freedom, but you don’t. Not really. You’re stuck behind a device watching others live out their dreams. You post selfies of fake smiles and expensive clothes, hoping that someone will envy you. Reassure you just how good you have it. All the while hating your life. “Smile, dear, you never know who is watching you,” my mother always tells me.
They call it forced-sex fantasy because rape implies violence. And for women who fantasize about this—it’s the fact that someone wants them so much, they can’t help themselves. Can’t take no for an answer. It’s more of the domination aspect of it.
No woman asks to be raped—it’s a fantasy about submission. She wants to be dominated in way that she knows she’ll enjoy it. It’s the act of the coercion.
Who the fuck cares? As long as all parties are consenting, then do whatever the fuck you want.
To me, giving him the power over me gives me power. It’s freeing. It doesn’t make any fucking sense to me, but that’s what feels the best. I thought I would like the surprise factor, but it ended up being the biggest turn-on.
Why? Why do I want to be treated like nothing? I wish I could explain how much my body craves to be dominated. How much my mind dreams about it.
“Good girl,” I hear him praise her, and she whimpers. I know, girl. I get it. Why do we crave that? To be praised for something that others would find degrading.
My girl. My wife. My filthy little slut.
This is what my body wants. What it needs. To be his. You can be someone’s wife but still want to be used.
His good girl.
Stepping into me, he slides both hands into my hair and holds my head steady. “I love you,” he says, making me sniff. “You are the only woman I’ve ever told that to. And it’ll stay that way until the day I die. Your face will heal, your scars will fade, but my love for you isn’t going to change. So, whatever he said to you, or made you feel, don’t let it get to you. That’s what he wants. Understand?”
I was forced to pick her as my chosen, but she continues to choose me every day. And that is what I call heaven. Because life without her would be hell.
