My biggest fantasy is to be raped. I’m ashamed to say that because it’s not something a woman should admit.

My reluctance to say it out loud stems from a conversation I had once with a friend’s boyfriend in a pub. We were chatting about fantasises (you know the type, sex in public, Britney Spears in *that* school uniform) when he suddenly announced that it was every woman’s fantasy to be raped.

I thought it was the most misogynistic thing I’d ever heard because at that time, I saw rape as a woman being forced at knifepoint to have sex with a stranger in a dark alleyway somewhere. So why would any woman in her right mind want to endure that humiliation? No woman *wants* to be hurt and degraded like that.

But his words stayed with me and I was determined to prove him wrong in every relationship I had after that.

Every man I have been with knows that I’m no victim. I’m in control of all aspects of my life and I certainly don’t let anyone dictate to me what I should do: everything is done *my* way, especially sex.

That was until last year. I was living with a man called Gabe who I’d been dating for 18 months. He called one night to say that he was having a drink with the boys but I was really horny so I told him to just have one because I was waiting naked in our bed for him. He agreed knowing that we only had sex when I said so and was shocked that I was initiating it without having to pester me for hours.

So I waited and waited.

Three hours later Gabe rolled in drunk, slamming the front door and tripping up the stairs. I was seething! There was no way we were going to have sex after he made we wait for three hours so I wrapped the bed sheets around my naked body and pretended to be asleep.

He eventually found his way into our bedroom stinking of beer and stumbled around the room, knocking things over as he undressed. He crawled into bed and said my name obviously hoping that we could still have sex but I continued to pretend to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake, I can tell,” he slurred.

When I didn’t respond he said, “Have it your way…” and grabbed me, turning me over roughly.

“What are you doing?” I asked irritably as he ripped away the bed sheet and laid on top of me, entering me with a single, brutal thrust.

“Get off me you bastard!” I yelled trying to push him away but it was futile as the weight of his body pinned me down easily to the bed.

“You can’t just come home and fuck me coz you’re horny. I’m not a toy!” I protested, hitting and scratching him, determined to regain control of the situation as he continued to thrust his hard cock in and out of me.

But he didn’t listen and instead grabbed my wrists and held them down to the bed, restraining me as he fucked me harder and deeper than he had ever done before.

I couldn’t breath as his heavy chest pressed against mine squashing my breasts against my ribcage, the muscles in my arms tightening as he held my wrists firmly over my head. He grunted every time he thrust into me, his balls slapping against my firm ass as I wriggled beneath him.

My pussy ached as I felt it stretch to accommodate his cock and I begged him to stop but he kissed me hard, forcing his thick tongue into my mouth and silencing my protests.

I could taste the beer and cigarettes as his stubble pierced the soft skin on my face. So I surrendered, realising that there was nothing I could do, and just lay there as he fucked me mercilessly.

But then my body betrayed me. My pussy obviously enjoyed the attention of his stiff cock as I could feel it getting wetter and my clit began throbbing. I felt that familiar feeling in my stomach as my orgasm took hold me, wave after wave of pure pleasure coursing through my body. I tried to suppress my moans but we’d been having sex long enough for him to know when I was cumming.

I know I shouldn’t of, but I came hard, crying out as my toes curled. He knew that he’d made me cum too as there was no way I could deny the intensity of my orgasm. My soaking wet cunt spasming around his cock obviously sent him over the edge too as he threw his head back and came inside me.

I don’t know whether it was an instinctive, animal reaction or relinquishing control of a situation for the first time in my life, but it was the best orgasm I’d ever had. There was no foreplay, no sweet-nothings, and no soft touches just filthy, hard fucking.

When he rolled off me, I wanted him to do it to me again which made me feel dirty and embarrassed. But I couldn’t let him know that I enjoyed what had happened so I burst into tears and kicked him out of bed. He didn’t say anything and just slept on the sofa. He moved out the next day.

And while I’m not proud of what happened, a night hasn’t gone by when I haven’t masturbated thinking about that night with Gabe. I’ve often toyed with the idea of having a one-night stand just so I can relish that feeling of abandonment again, but I know that I would never let myself go and enjoy it as much with a stranger. What if he hurt me? I couldn’t take that risk.

Which takes me back to my fantasy. You see I don’t want to be raped. It’s just a fantasy. I probably only enjoyed what happened with Gabe because I knew him and I knew he wouldn’t really hurt me.

You see, I always have sex on my terms: I do it when *I* want to do it; I’m always on top. I never swallow and we’re not done til *I* have an orgasm.

So my fantasy stems from the fact that I want someone to tell me what to do for a change. To be dominated. To do something I wouldn’t normally do. To be held down and fucked. So I fantasise about that night with Gabe while I masturbate or when my new fiancé Chris and I *make love*.

But my fantasies have moved on from Gabe recently. At the moment, I imagine a scenario where I am driving down a deserted road in the middle of nowhere when my car suddenly breaks down. I begin walking down the road to look for a payphone when I stumble across a dilapidated bar so I go in to see if anyone can help.

The bar is nearly empty and is something you see the movies: dimly lit and dirty with a large jukebox in the corner playing country and western music.

There is of course the obligatory pool table surrounded by four huge bikers who stop their game to stare at me as I walk in. Their eyes follow me as I walk towards the bar and ask if there’s a payphone. I’m aware that someone is behind me and I turn round to face one of the bikers who is 6’5″ with dirty grey hair and a beard.

He’s wearing leather trousers and a black T-shirt that barely covers his solid chest. I notice his big belt buckle which has an American eagle on it and my eyes move upwards towards his stubbly chin and cold blue eyes.

“Can I help you miss?” he asks, looking me up and down.

It’s a hot day so I’m wearing a white cotton sundress, which hugs my figure perfectly. I can feel his eyes burning into me as he studies every inch of me, paying close attention to my firm breasts and my tiny pink nipples poking through the delicate material.

“My car broke down so I need to find a phone,” I say quietly.

“I’m a mechanic, I can help,” he says, his face betraying no emotion.

“That’s OK. I just need to call a pick-up truck. I don’t have any cash on me.”

“Oh don’t worry about money sweetheart. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement…” He says grabbing my arm in his huge hand and dragging me over to the pool table where his friends are waiting.

“What are you doing?” I struggle as he lifts me easily and sits me on the edge of the pool table.

I gasp as I feel one of the others grab me by my long red hair and pull me backwards, pining my hands to the table as I watch the main in front of me undo his American eagle belt buckle, unzip his jeans and pull out the biggest, hardest cock I have ever seen.

The others clap and cheer as he roughly parts my knees and pushes up my dress to reveal my creamy thighs. I feel his thick fingers pulling at my white cotton panties and I shiver as he rips the delicate fabric with ease.

My neatly trimmed pussy exposed, I feel him rub the head over the thick lips of my pussy before lunging forward, piercing me with his hard cock. I cry out as he penetrates me, his huge cock threatening to tear my tight cunthole as the others cheer him on.

Then he begins to fuck me. Slowly at first as my pussy stretches to accommodate him, overwhelming me with a mixture of pleasure and pain. I feel one of the on-lookers reach under my sundress and begin squeezing my pert breasts with his dirty hand, forcing my tiny nipples to harden.

“Get your hand outta there!” my attacker barks as he reaches up to the top of my dress and pulls, ripping it open so my tits spill out.

He grabs them with both hands and begins squeezing the life out of them; pinching my pink nipples and making me wince with pain as he continues to assault me with his cock.

The stranger holding me down unzips his jeans and frees his hard on which he points at my mouth.

“Suck on that slut!” he demands as I accept it without hesitation and suck on it obediently as he inches it down my throat.

I cannot see anything as he fucks my face but there are hands all over me and I can hear claps and cheers from the onlookers and my attacker’s metal belt buckle banging loudly on the corner of the pool table as he fucks me relentlessly.

“Take that bitch,” the one inside my pussy grunts, exploding inside me as I feel a wet mouth cover one of my breasts and bite my nipple, forcing me to cum too.

As soon as he withdraws, I feel another cock pressing at the entrance of my well-fucked pussy, entering me quickly and wasting no time as he fucks me hard and deep.

“Oh fuck yeah!” The guy in my mouth announces as he shoots his load down my throat. I try to swallow as much of it as I can but it’s too much and the sticky fluid oozes out of the corners of my mouth and onto the pool table.

“My turn,” another of the strangers says impatiently, grabbing my face with his hands and forcing his rock hard cock down my throat.

When I masturbate, I continue to fantasise that they take in turns with me over and over until they’ve had enough and it doesn’t take long until I reach an orgasm.

And while I enjoy this fantasy and hope to God it never actually happens, I can’t orgasm anymore without thinking about Gabe or the guys in the bar. It became an obsession so I decided that I needed to get it out of my system and went to see Gabe.

He owned a bar not far from where I lived and I turned up just as they were about to close on a Saturday night. The place was emptying up and I could see Gabe behind the bar cashing up.

“We’re closed miss,” the young barman said politely and Gabe looked up.

“It’s OK Nate. Lock up and go out back.” Gabe said firmly. The barman did as he was told and left us alone.

“What do you want?” Gabe asked coldly as I strutted over to the pool table, my high heel shoes tapping loudly on the wooden floor.

I leaned against it and lifted my denim skirt a little so that he could see I wasn’t wearing any underwear. He walked over to where I was and stared at me intently.

“Remember that night before we broke up?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he replied, his green eyes burning into me.

“Do it to me again…”

I didn’t have to ask him twice as he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me onto the pool table. I spread my legs and he moved between them as he unbuttoned his jeans with his free hand, releasing his hardening cock.

“Oh yeah!” I called out as he entered me hard, his familiar cock filling me. **remaining on** [my fantasy](https://thebestsexstories101.blogspot.com/2019/10/getting-raped-is-my-fantasy.html)

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/dt9k7q/my_biggest_fantasy_is_to_be_raped_im_ashamed_to