Even as I'm explaining it, I can tell you don't really understand where I'm coming from.
"Soooooo," you say, drawing the word out long and slow, "you want me to rape you?"
I sigh. I've been trying to explain this for a while now. "Yes and no. It's called consented non consent. We both know it will happen, we both agree to it happening, but we both act as if you are forcing yourself on me."
"But babe," you say, still looking confused, "can't we just have rough sex?"
I am really struggling to make you understand this. How can I tell you that for so long now my relationships have all involved me taking the initiative, me taking the lead, and that I find the idea of being completely helpless and out of control a turn on?
Eventually I do the only thing I can do. I point you towards my favourite non consent stories on Literotica. "Read these," I say. "Read them, and think about how you would feel to be the man in those stories, bearing in mind I actually want and welcome everything you will do to me."
That's the end of the conversation. You are going away tomorrow for a few days and you promise to read them and think it over. I'm not convinced you will, but a couple of days later I get a text.
'We would need a safe word. I'm scared of genuinely hurting you more than you can take'
'Of course,' I text back, 'that is a given.'
'So what would it be? Your safe word?'
That throws me a bit, because I really haven't given it any thought. Obviously things like no and stop are out of the question. What word could I use that we would both remember, and that would stand out enough to get through to you?
After some thought, I reply with 'pineapple.' It's an easy word to say, and definitely not something one would usually blurt out in the midst of sex.
I expect some kind of sarcastic response, but nothing. I figure you must be busy, you are away with work after all.
I still haven't heard anything later that night, which I find slightly weird, so I decide to have a shower, get ready for bed and then try calling. I usually try not to pester you while you're away for work, but I just have this strange feeling hanging over me. After my shower, I'm so preoccupied with wondering why you haven't responded yet that I make it all the way from the bathroom to the bedroom before I register that all the lights are off.
I pause in the middle of the room, confused. Did I turn off the hall and bedroom lights before going into the bathroom? It isn't something I would usually do, but my mind is definitely on other things. I shrug and step towards the bed to grab my pyjamas.
That's when the figure dressed all in black steps out from the shadows in the corner of the room, making me jump and shocking a scream out of me. It's clearly a man, I can tell by the height and shape, but he is completely covered other than his eyes, which are exposed by a black balaclava covering his face.
Before I can recover from the shock, he strides over to me, spins me around, pulls me tight against him and wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing just enough to make me aware of the breath panting in and out of my throat.
"Hey bitch," he snarls in my ear, his voice deep and rumbling, "I've been following you for days. You're so distracted all the time, it was so easy to follow you back to your house and watch you. And then you made the stupid mistake of leaving a window open. It's like you're fucking begging to be attacked."
With those words, my panic abates slightly. It's you! Of course it's you! You did listen after all, but rather than let me know you were into it, you decided to just surprise me. I start to smile, but your hand around my throat suddenly squeezes harder, and your other hand grabs my hair, pulling my head back painfully. I struggle for breath, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. I had no idea you would be quite so rough, make it quite so...realistic.
Using my hair, you drag me over to the bed. The hand around my throat releases me to rip my towel off my naked body. I gulp in air gratefully. Swallowing hurts a bit, and I'm getting ready to ask you to be a little less rough, when suddenly you reach round and shove something into my mouth, deep enough that I can't just push it out with my tongue. I realise it's my used panties, which I had tossed onto the bed while getting undressed. Those are followed by some kind of gag. I don't know what you use for that, you must have brought it with you.
Once the gag is tightened to your liking, you push me forward onto the bed. I land in a sprawl, breasts smashed into the mattress, legs spread akimbo. I lie there stunned, one though running through my head over and over...
'You gagged me! You...you gagged me! How am I meant to say our safe word if it gets too much?'
I start to squirm, trying to turn over. I know if I can just give you The Glare, the one I reserve for when you really piss me off, you'll realise something is wrong. My squirming stops abruptly though when your open hand suddenly lands on my ass cheek with a stinging slap. Ouch! Fuck! You've spanked me before, but never like that! That really hurt!
I restart my squirming, determined to flip over and glare at you. Hell, I'm so annoyed I'll even kick you in the balls if that is what it takes to get your attention! SLAP. Even harder than before, positioned to fall perfectly over the original sore spot. It shocks me still, and you take advantage of it to grab my arms, yanking them behind my back. I feel you wrapping something round them, and realise you are using cable ties to hold them together.
OK, this is going too far now. Yes I said I liked the idea of not having control, but you're definitely taking it way further than I expected! The stories I pointed you to weren't as rough as this, they mostly involved women being pinned against walls and forcibly fingered, made to cum even though they didn't want to. There was no strangling or spanking!
Now that my arms are securely fixed behind my back, you obviously feel confident enough to flip me over, as I'm suddenly spinning sideways and landing on my back, my arms trapped painfully behind me. You're still wearing the balaclava, and the light is so dim I can hardly make out your eyes. As I watch, you roughly yank my legs apart, kneeling on the bed between them to stop me closing them again.
I feel the cool air of the bedroom gently brushing across my pussy lips, and realise with shock they feel slightly damp. Surely I'm not wet? Not with the way you've been treating me! But my suspicions are confirmed as without ceremony you pull my pussy lips wide open, and immediately slide one finger inside my tight vagina. It slides in easily, proof that some dirty part of me is loving this.