The next time I saw the man I loved was fortunately, the next night. We had dinner again. I say fortunately because I was antsy with nothing to do. All day I’d had desire sizzling in my body. The day without him had seemed to just drag by.
While we ate it seemed to me that he was thinking hard. I could tell he was wrestling with something. I could almost see him turning ideas over in his mind. I tried to be patient but he seemed distant and perhaps even troubled. So finally I had to break the silence.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“Your rape fantasy.” He told me. I’m sure my mouth hung agape when he said that. I mean I could have died! He didn’t seem to notice. His eyes darted about the room uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry, just forget that.” I hurried to say while my heartbeat accelerated to an uncomfortably fast cadence.
“No, no, I can’t.” He told me.
I watched his face as he continued to think. I wanted to make it just go away there was a conflict there inside him that I had caused. I just didn’t know what to do about it.
“Listen, my angel I have to ask you this. Do you really think you’d like to be raped? Or, do you think you’d actually enjoy, playing at it? Knowing that the rapist was only I? You’d know that I wouldn’t really hurt you, my heart, but not when it would come or how. Do you think you would enjoy that? I need to know. Should this stay a fantasy for you and only that, or not?” He asked me suddenly.
I gulped at the wine. It felt to me as if I had just developed a fever. I closed my eyes and thought through his questions carefully.
“I don’t think I’d want to be raped for real. I mean real rape is about power and control not about sex. Right?” I asked looking into his eyes for understanding. His metallic blue eyes were warm and curious. He was listening intently. He nodded his agreement with what I had just said but didn’t speak. He was clearly waiting me out.
I took another gulp of wine. This was difficult to even think about.
“One thing I think that appeals to me about it is that I wouldn’t have to say yes. I wouldn’t have to be the “bad girl.” Do you know what I mean? I think I’d be able to enjoy it eventually. I always do in my fantasies anyway. I secretly enjoy it but I would have been forced and so, not responsible for making that decision.” I was speaking my thoughts out loud. It wasn’t comfortable to do so. I returned to the wine.
If the discussion continued along these lines I knew I might be drinking more than usual. Part of me in truth loved the idea of playing at rape. It seemed like it could be comical in a way though. I didn’t want it to be. The great thing was I wouldn’t have to tell him yes. I wouldn’t have to ask him to take my virginity. That would be a relief because I honestly didn’t know if I ever could work up the courage or break the bonds of my upbringing to ask him for what I now knew, I did want.
“Even this.” I said suddenly struck by the thought I’d just had. “Even the wine is part of it. If I drink enough, what happens isn’t my fault!” I put down the wine glass and looked at it as if it had grown horns and hooves.
“Sweetie.” He said. His voice was soothing but I could tell he was holding back a chuckle. He found me amusing. I just wasn’t sure if it was a pitiful amusing or a cute amusing that he saw in me.
“All of that is perfectly natural. Don’t feel bad about it.” He told me. He took my hand in both of his. He made it warm again.
“I don’t want to keep something from you if you want to do it. I want to make your fantasies come true if I can. I just don’t know if I can do this or if you really would like to play at it in real life. Help me out here.” He said.
His eyes were so full of love when I looked into them. I didn’t want to do anything but clear the table and have him put me on it. I just wanted him to take me right then but still, I couldn’t find the words.
“I might like to play at it as you say, yes. Only, what if I panicked and hurt you? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” I finally said.
His laugh was sweet. I could tell there was no malice in it. I could feel his gentle love all around me like a warm cloak I could wrap myself in.
“Honey, I can take care of myself. Trust me. That does bring up another point. Do you think the possibility of hurting or actually being hurt might add to it or would it scare you too much?”
I answered slowly, the truth I felt inside me burned with the fuel of shame, but I told him anyway.
“It does scare me.” I agreed. I spoke a little too softly. I tried again. I cleared my throat and thought hard while looking down at the beautifully set table. I found my voice as I went on. I spoke a bit louder.
“It just doesn’t scare me enough. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt either. At least I don’t think so. After last night and the earrings, well, I think some pain or maybe that’s not the right word, maybe discomfort would be better? Anyway, it might add something into the mix but I could only do something like this for real with someone I trust, with you.” I told him. I was trembling inside. I felt those seemingly monumental essential truths bear down on me like a great weight. I was so surprised at what I had said. I was shocked too at my own feelings.
He nodded again, slowly and thoughtfully. I could see his mind turning again. I shivered at the idea of what he might be thinking. We were silent awhile. Each of us were thinking and gazing at the other as we ate and drank.
“Which of the three scenarios you told me about do you like the best?” He asked me later.
“Well the first two are the easiest in a way.” I told him. In one I have no choice so that’s easy. In the other having sex is condoned by society and no longer wrong so that’s sort of simple too. The one I like best though, really truly, is the third one. It’s the hardest though.
“Why?”
“Because in it I choose to have and take power. In it, I am and will always be, essentially alone. I will always have the power to choose the men and to send them away. I will know how to make love well. I will have confidence in that. I will be able to drive them nuts but they won’t be able to keep me.” The minute I said it I wished I had not. He was keeping me. We both knew it. I had just said I didn’t want to be kept, but I didn’t mean it like that.
As much as I wanted to be free again, I found it hard to imagine going back to my life now. Going back to college and my job seemed impossible to me. My family would never be able to accept me now, I knew that too. There was more going on though.
Part of me was beginning to like being kept by him. I wanted him to touch me again. I wanted him to snap the clips onto my nipples. I needed him make me cry out in pain and satisfaction. I needed to feel safe, loved and cherished. I was losing my old sense of self. I was becoming something else in a way. I mean, I was still me, but I was more somehow too. I reached up and touched the earrings as if to make sure they were there or to point them out to him.
If I could only ask him to take me, I think we could both be happy together always. So what held me back? I couldn’t think of what it was. The only thing I could think of was fear. I was afraid in a way that had no reasoning. I had a deep fear of saying yes. I didn’t thing I could ever admit that I wanted to be taken. This fear been ingrained in me in so many ways, it had been embossed on the very fiber of my being.
“How would you feel if you got to experience all of your fantasies? Would you want to do that?” He asked me. He didn’t seem angry at my blunder at all. I was puzzled but relieved.
I shook my head no. My eyes, I’m sure, went very wide. I couldn’t imagine how that was possible.
“It can’t happen. I can only be a virgin once. How could it work?” I asked pushing back from the table.
“Don’t worry about that. Just think about it my heart. Would you like all of those fantasies to happen for real? Would you like us to play at them? Look inside and answer me truly. Don’t worry about the planning or logistics just tell me what you really would wish for your first time.” With that said, he stood up and came over to my chair. Pulling me up and into his arms. He walked with me over the couch. He cuddled me to him while I thought.
I felt so safe and cared for in his arms. At that moment there was no other place I wanted to be than in his arms. Of course I was burning for it to be with his flesh firmly planted in mine too. Still I was too much of a coward to express that. What he was asking me to do seemed impossible to have really happen. It should have felt safe to answer him but it didn’t.
It felt as if he were looking inside me. I could feel him digging deeply into me. He was discovering more about me then I, even wanted to know. I felt honored that he would bother, or find me interesting at all. I was scared of what all this said about me as well. I had to answer though. I couldn’t keep myself from giving to him the answers and layers he sought. He seemed so caring and interested. His attentions and fascination intoxicated me.
“It would be incredible to live all of them.” I finally answered. My thoughts were getting out of control. I could feel my body getting all wet and heated. I was breathing quicker too.
