Her Singer-Songwriter Fantasy

In Nancy Friday’s multiple compendia of female sexual fantasies, she had a lot of fun finding (or saying she had found) women with controversial fantasies. In her 1991 book Women On Top, these tended to include expressions of female power. Here’s Mandy, talking about what she enjoys imagining doing to her favorite singer and songwriter:

My favorite fantasy is about a singer-songwriter named Peter. I have been a fan of Peter’s for
about eight years, and I’ve been jerking off to fantasies of him for that long.

Anyway, here’s my fantasy: Peter and I are friends, and when in town, he drops by for dinner and small talk. Peter does not write about typical things like love ballads, but rather things he feels strongly about. Talk turns to an article in the paper about rape. He tells me that it disturbs him greatly, but he couldn’t write about it because he has never been, and being a man could never be, raped. Conversation moves on, and when it gets late he bids me goodnight and leaves. All this time I have been forming a plan.

The next night when I’m sure he’s not home, I slip into his hotel room and hide in the closet. When he arrives, I wait until he is in the bathroom and then I creep out of the closet and wait for him to come out of the can. I sneak up behind him and hold a knife to his throat telling him if he does what I say, no one will get hurt. I have him lie down on the bed and I tie his arms and legs to the bedposts. Because I am dressed in black, and have on a ski mask, he doesn’t know who I am. At first he thinks I am joking, but he soon realizes my intentions are not at all honorable. He starts squirming and yelling, telling me that I won’t be able to do anything because he won’t get hard. I slowly undress him, nibbling at each new exposure of flesh. I lick him from head to toe, pausing once in a while at something delicious, carefully avoiding his prick. I get a towel from the can and blindfold him with it so I can remove my mask, the better to eat him.

Then I get a pillow and place it lovingly under his buns. I reverse my course, licking him from toe to head and I nibble at his nipples, neck, earlobes and lips. I begin to whisper obscenities in his ear, telling him what I am going to do to him. I climb up and sit astride his face, and I tell him to eat me. He sticks his warm tongue deep inside my cunt and twirls it round and round. He’s a great eater! After I’ve come a few times, I get off and I start kissing him and licking my juices off his face, something that amazes him. I lick my way downward again and I begin to nibble on his buns. I love his buns! I take one ball into my mouth and twirl my tongue all around it before gently releasing it and moving on to the other one. Then I start sucking up the side of his half-hard shaft, all the while playing with my dripping cunt. He is still trying not to get hard, but I will take care of that. I tell him to suck on my finger, telling him the wetter the better, as I am going to stick it up his ass. He gets it very wet.

I gently insert it up his asshole and when I touch his gland he becomes instantly rock-hard. I have never seen such a magnificent column of flesh! I quickly tie a thin strip of leather around the base of his prick so I can keep him hard for as long as I want. I suck his balls and buns some more, and out of the corner of my eye I can see a drop of his nectar at the tip of his penis. I lick it off, and keep on licking. When I can’t stand it anymore, I climb on top of him and slowly impale myself on his glistening rod. I begin to rock slowly back and forth pulling him deeper and deeper inside me. I suddenly realize that he is helping me a bit and softly moaning. The moaning gives me a rush, as I love his throaty voice. I have, and who doesn’t in their fantasies, an earth shattering climax. After a few minutes I climb down and stand on the floor beside him, looking at his beautiful, sweaty body. He tells me how cruel I am because I won’t let him come too, and that his balls are beginning to hurt. I untie his prick and give him a deep blow job, drinking in all his juice as we come together. I’ve wondered for so long what he tastes like, and believe me, it was worth the wait! Then when I’m sure he’s asleep, I carefully release him, and leave.

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Locker Room Surprise

I have issues with the usual assumptions about “violent” porn. There’s a lot of rapey porn out there, in which the sex is rough and (in a fictional narrative sense) non-consensual. The common unexamined assumption is that porn like this is by men and for men; women viewers aren’t anticipated, and such women who do happen to view it are expected to be disinterested, repulsed, angered, or worse.

That’s never made a lot of sense to me, because it’s a truism that both men and women are often known to enjoy a good rape fantasy. In the usual narrative, the men who enjoy rape fantasy are just rape-minded pigs who haven’t been caught and arrested yet, and the women? The usual narrative tries to pretend they don’t exist, despite magnificent piles of evidence that they do. (Here I gently gesture at the existence of an entire subgenre of literature for women that gets referred to by the phrase “bodice ripper”.)

This dynamic was demonstrated in microcosm when I blogged here about a sex comic featuring a woman surprised in her shower by a scary hooded bondage rapist with a huge erection. Although I acknowledged in the post that this was an equal-opportunity fantasy that some women would enjoy, I nonetheless concluded that the scenario probably fell into the “unwelcome surprises while showering” category.

It was just a snarky little throwaway post and it attracted precisely one comment, from a regular ErosBlog commenter with a female pseudonym: “I know I wouldn’t mind one bit…” The implication being that my disclaimer was over-cautious, as least as to the one reader whose attention was engaged to the point of feeling moved to comment.

I was reminded of all this when I saw a recent locker room “surprised in the shower” photo shoot called “Take One For The Team” from Sex and Submission. Despite being in a genre of porn that’s typically assumed to be by-and-for men, the actual scenario struck me as likely to have broader appeal, especially during the substantial portion of the photoshoot before they broke out the usual ropes-and-gags that defines the Sex And Submission porn niche.

It all begins so innocently. Model Nicki Blue (yes, the infamously-marketed recently-sort-of-virginal one) is teasing the hunky men in the locker room after a coed soccer game:

Then she traipses off to take a shower, alone:

Splish, splash, takin’ a bath, Saturday night, all that soapy jazz:

And then, suddenly, ninjas appear!

No, wait, that’s a different movie.

Not ninjas, no, but overmuscled jocks, jocks with sex on their mind. (The one they share between them?) Ms. Blue summons an appropriately melodramatic expression for our viewing pleasure:

Of course they grab her and throw her to her knees. This is actually a fairly lengthy and drawn-out process, with much roughhousing and grabbing and hair-pulling and slapping and insincere struggling; the shower scene in the photoshoot has almost 70 photos in total, of which maybe nine are between that last one and this one:

For some reason I find that last photo utterly hilarious. Intentional or not, it makes fun of jocks in a huge way. These two beefy dudes have invaded a girl’s shower, scared her, grabbed her, thrown her to her knees, and now they are holding her by the hair on the back of her head while they, what, have a jovial conversation in which they try to figure out what to do with her?

Try to keep up with the program, jock dudes! The porn logic has already passed your conversation by. Everybody (except you) already knows she’s going to suck your dicks now, while displaying varying (but mostly declining) amounts of faux reluctance. Stop delaying the game!

So, of course, she does. And then they move out into the locker room, for a couple of scenes in the more-typical-for-this-site ropes-and-gags genre:

So, do I have a point? Nah. I just wanted to show you Nikki’s excellent “surprised in the shower” face, and then I got to blathering even worse than Jockface #1 and Jockface #2, above.

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Reasons For Rape Fantasies

College newspaper sex columns have long provided rich fodder for sex blogging, but too often (especially in the early days when campus sex columnists tended to spray burbling prose in a “Squeee! I’m writing about sex like a grownup!” sort of tone) they’ve tended to instigate mockery rather than respect. However, when “Dr. Strokes” addresses the extremely tricky subject of the rape fantasies so many women enjoy, the result is just about the calmest and sanest such discussion I’ve ever seen. Here’s an excerpt from Anatomy of A Rape Fantasy:

What are some of the reasons that people want to pretend rape?

1. Guilt avoidance. It sucks, but we still live in a society where people, especially women, are made to feel guilty about wanting sex. Let me quote Nancy Friday, from her classic 1973 book of women’s fantasies:

“The most popular guilt-avoiding device was the so-called rape fantasy… it simply had to be understood that what went on was against the woman’s will. Saying she was ‘raped’ was the most expedient way of getting past the big No to sex that had been imprinted on her mind since early childhood.”

2. Being irresistible. It can be fun to imagine that you’re so attractive that nobody can resist the urge to touch you, and that they need to have sex with you so much that they’re just going to take it. Let me repeat: it can be fun to imagine when you are in a highly sexually aroused state and completely in control of who is touching you and how. Not so much otherwise.

3. Fear can heighten excitement. This is a known fact–fear gets our adrenaline up, our heart pumping, our pupils dilate, even our genitals aroused. Think of a rape fantasy as like a roller coaster–a controlled fear experience which you can get off of, and not you being thrown around out of control at 150 mph.

4. The more positive side of guilt avoidance is “pressure to perform” avoidance. In my violent rape fantasy, nobody really expects me to “perform” or to be “good” or to really do anything but what my instincts tell me to do. And it’s fun to imagine a situation where we’re expected to just run on instincts. (This is another gradation for me between “BDSM” and “rape” fantasies–in my BDSM fantasy, I have less pressure to perform because I have less ability to perform, but in my rape fantasy, I become a purely instinctual creature.)

2024 update: Somewhere between 2008 and now, the link not only broke, but the entirety of the Swarthmore Daily Gazette at that URL has been excluded from the Internet Archive. That in turn presumably has an associated controversy or story, but I do not know it: