Rape Me

Anya Evren

 

It happened ten years ago. Ten years ago, I was happy. No, not happy – just content. I was content with my life. Josh, my husband, was a nice, attentive man, who showered me with love. He still is. He doesn’t know what happened ten years ago, and I intend to keep it that way until death does us part. Even though I am not happy anymore. Not even content. But it’s not his fault. So, I hide it carefully. Being busy with work and taking care of Jack helps.

Ten years ago, we were in the third year of our marriage. Josh is the romantic type. He adores me. Although we were both focused on growing our careers, he an associate at a law firm, and I at the service desk of a major bank, he still made time to plan romantic dates, and surprise me with flowers for the silliest reasons. My friends were so jealous of our relationship.

I met Josh when we were both in high-school. We were both geeks, and were drawn to each other naturally. He had a shy smile. I was in braces. He was my first kiss. I lost my virginity to him. We both went to the same university, with Josh studying law and me studying economics. We got married after getting our degrees. We weren’t planning on having kids until we were both established.

I thought I was happy. It turned out, I was only content. Something was missing, and I didn’t even know it.

Then came that fucking movie. Yes, “fucking movie” is right. It definitely wasn’t a movie I would have been interested in watching. Barely disguised pornography, it was about some millionaire businessman main character harassing and abusing a young intern. In 2015, no one bothered about the blatant misogyny in that movie, which was based on a novel by some third-rate hack. Yes, you know which movie I am talking about. The one with Dakota Johnson.

We had planned a girls’ night out, and Amy had suggested going to watch that movie. I wasn’t that keen, but the girls wanted to go. I didn’t want to seem like a prude.

The story was about a glorified abusive relationship. A dumb girl and a macho sociopath. But it wasn’t about the story. It was… It was about those scenes. The sex scenes. Not just regular stuff but… what he did to her. It was awful, but at the same time, fascinating. I glanced at my friends. They were all watching with rapt attention.

I was raised a good, Christian girl. Josh was my first and only. We didn’t watch porn. Some steamy romance movies, sure. Even those with sex scenes under blankets. But not pornography. All we knew about sex was from one another, and I loved everything about our sex life. I was happy with it. Well, it turned out, I was only content with it.

When those scenes played out on the screen, at first, I felt embarrassed, and wanted to look away. But I couldn’t. My friends were watching anyway, so none of them would think anything bad if I watched, you know? So, I did.

Oh god, what he did to her. I didn’t know that men could do such things to women they love, and that women could get turned on by things like that. He tied her up, blind-folded her, spanked her, flogged her, almost forced himself on her. Looking back, those were pretty tame things, but hey, I didn’t even know the word “bondage” at the time.

When the movie ended, we all sat there, trying to look cool. When we finally stood up, I felt it. A big, wet patch in my panty crotch. Not just wet, like when Josh and I would make out, but really, soggy wet. I was concerned that my period had come early.

There was a long queue at the toilet, and we all stood in line. Amy was ahead of me, and she went in first. Then some girl came out, and I went in. The vacant stall was at the end. I didn’t know which of the other two Amy was in. As soon as I closed the door, I took off my panties to check for blood. It wasn’t blood. As I had suspected, it was my… secretions. That embarrassed me so much.

I peed, and wiped myself. I took a wad of toilet paper and tried to wipe away the wetness from the crotch of my panties. That’s when I heard the sounds coming from the adjacent stall. Loud breathing and barely audible moans. Some rapid, squelching sounds. I knew what that was. I just placed the wad of toilet paper in the panty crotch and pulled it up, and got out of there as quickly as I could. Amy came out a few minutes after me. Could it have been her in the adjacent cubicle? At any rate, she didn’t mention that she had heard a girl masturbating. Amy was the type who would have mentioned something like that for laughs, and quite loudly too.

That night, as we made love, I imagined Josh doing those things to me. Those thoughts made me so aroused, that I finished twice.

A few days later, I was working from home when those thoughts returned. Actually, they had never completely left. Every once in a while, at work or at home, I would suddenly think about blindfolds, whips, and ice cubes. So, I did a google search on the home PC about the movie, to see if there were any streaming sites where I could watch it again.

That’s how I learned what BDSM is and what that acronym meant. That rabbit hole brought me to a forum called GetDare. You could read it without making an account. I was so absorbed in it, that I barely heard Josh walking in through the front door. I hurriedly closed that tab, and remembered to erase the browser history later.

That night, I asked Josh whether he could tie me up and spank me. He looked surprised and laughed, and replied that he could never do something like that to the girl he loved. I laughed too, and pretended that it was a joke. His reply made me happy and frustrated at the same time. He loved me. But sometimes love just ain’t enough, like that song goes.

The next day, I created an account on the forum. I have no idea why. I had no plans of posting anything there. In the “about” section of my profile, I just wrote one word – “Curious”. Of course, I am not stupid. I made a separate Hotmail account for that, and chose the username DoraTheExplorer24. Yeah, the original DoraTheExplorer was taken.

The forum was mostly about people daring each other to do dirty stuff. Some of those things were just disgusting. But there were sub-forums where people were discussing about BDSM, what they enjoy, and relating their experiences.

I learnt a lot about myself. So, apparently, I am a submissive. Someone posted a link to something called a BDSM test. I did that. Honestly, I didn’t even know the answers to most of the questions because I had never tried those things. I just chose the answers that… that aroused me most. The result said that I am a submissive, rope bunny, degradee, slave, masochist, and primal prey. I had no idea what any of those meant.

I added the link to the test results in my profile, as some people suggested. It was somewhat exciting to have that secret profile, to be honest, although I felt bad that I was doing it behind Josh’s back. I mean, it wasn’t a big deal. I wasn’t going to do anything.

Until I did. One day, a guy posted about what he called a “consensual non-consent encounter” with a girl. He was rough with her. Basically, she consented to him “raping” her. I read that, and it got me so wet. Compared to that movie, what he mentioned in the post was brutal. I would never want anything like that. But still. Just imagining that made me want to masturbate, which is something I rarely do, and only when Josh is away for a few days or so.

I commented on the post with an “OMG” and an emoji of a shocked Pikachu face. That night, I was again so crazy horny when Josh and I made love. I was thinking of what that man did to that girl.

Next time I logged in, there were a dozen private messages. All from guys, from all over the world, asking me whether I want to fuck, or whether I want a Master, or asking me for nudes, or advising me not to talk to other people except them because everyone else only wanted to fuck me. There was no message from the guy who had written the post. No sign that he had seen my reply.

I don’t know what came over me, but I clicked on his profile, and sent him a private message. I told him that I really enjoyed his story, and asked whether it was true. I regretted immediately after I sent it, but it was too late. He probably wouldn’t answer anyway.

There was no reply. Not the next day, not the day after that. I was relieved and disappointed. It was as if I wanted him to notice me. Five days later, he replied. He apologized for the late reply, and said that he had been traveling. He explained that he travels a lot for work, meeting customers, and giving lectures at industry meetings. He told me that the story was true, but he had changed dates, location, and other details to protect the girl’s privacy, because she was married.

I was surprised. I asked him why someone who was married would want to do something like that with another man. A couple of days later he replied, saying that some women get married before they discover what they enjoy in sex, and sometimes just want to have that experience they never knew they craved. It sounded like a description of me, and it irritated me. I replied that it is still bad, because it is adultery.

Four days passed with no reply. Maybe I had offended him with my judgemental tone. I wrote again, explaining that it wasn’t my intention to judge. To each their own.

Another couple of days passed before he replied. Again, he had been traveling. He said that if I would like to have a conversation and discuss things, the forum would not be the best place, because he doesn’t log in often. He suggested that I download a chat application called Kik. So many people on the forum seemed to be using it. At the time, Kik didn’t ask for any personal details or a phone number. You only needed an email address to create an account. I used the same Hotmail account, of course.

Then I messaged him. I told him that I had followed his order. No, he hadn’t ordered me to do anything. He had been really nice in his chats on the forum. But I had seen some people taking orders from their “masters” or “mistresses” on the forum, and it felt rather sweet actually.

He replied and told me that I could ask anything I want, and that he would answer. So, I asked him questions, like - why do women like rough sex? How does he feel when he is doing those things with women? Why non-consensual? How many married women had he been with? Did those women feel guilty afterwards about cheating?

He was patient, and answered my questions. He never messaged me out of the blue – he only replied when I messaged him. This was good. After a few days of chatting, I told him that if he wanted to message me he definitely could, but he should avoid certain times, and avoid weekends. He wrote back, “Of course. You wouldn’t want the phone buzzing when your husband is around.”

I was shocked. I asked him how he knew I was married. He LOL’d and said that he guessed it from the way I reacted, when I had first sent that judgemental message. So, I asked him whether it bothered him that the woman in his story was committing adultery with him.