So, I have been asked a number of times if I really have a kinky side drawn to monsters and fantasy rape. The simple answer is yes, but that would certainly not be much of a blog entry so let me explain the reasons why as we delve deeper into my erotic, and perverted, mind.

First off, I am talking about fantasy rape, with the emphasis on fantasy. True rape of a woman is a horrific traumatizing experience that no one should be forced to live with. Instead I am talking to the inner submissive side that most women have in their sexual psyche. To be blunt, men fuck and women are fucked; nothing demeaning in that, it is simply a matter of evolution. To be a little more tactful (yeah, that’s a new one for me), one can also consider that men are the pursuers and women are the pursued. A shy, reserved woman can still have a wonderful and full-roster dating and sex life simply because it is (typically) the man that does all the hunting. It is in our genes (and our jeans, if you know what I mean – kind of a Taming of the Shrew reference there). Yes, there are cougars out there stalking the bars for their young prey, but they are still the exception to the rule.

So how does this evolve into a monster rape fetish? Well, it’s really not much of a stretch of the imagination (or at least not for a sexually rambunctious imagination like mine). Most women have this submissive surrendering side to them, and it has been researched that many, perhaps most, women harbor at least some rape fantasies. There is a part to evolution that has the woman give themselves to their mate, to be taken as part of the pleasure. Think about any woman that likes it doggie-style. In this sexual position, the woman is completely isolated from intimate contact with her partner; she can not see him or touch him or be close to him. All she feels in the rhythmic thrusting as he drives his shaft into her, with him being in total control of the motion and situation. It is primal in its very essence. And you guys out there better start wondering what your partner is really imagining and dreaming about in these moments as she grips the bed sheets and buries her face in the pillow to muffle her screams.

Another reference to further this point is romance novels, which happen to be the biggest revenue generator in fictional print. Yet for all the plethora of trashy romance novels out there, they are very formulaic at their root. Yes, they always end with the woman being swept off her feet by the good guy (even though in real life good guys finish last). But always in the middle of the novel they have the romp with the bad boy, and the language used is literally ravishing. The authors won’t ever use the word rape, but the way the heroine succumbs to the bad boy’s desires is pretty obvious. And this is the most popular novel genre for women. There is a very damn good reason romance novels are nicknamed bodice rippers. And notice also how these bodice rippers take place in historical settings; a small step into the fantasy realm for the real-life-vanilla-sex readers.

So, if you can accept that most women fantasize about being ravished by a tall, dark, and handsome stranger, why not go that extra little inch in imaginative fantasy and have tall, dark, and monstrous. What this adds to the fantasy is plenty. First it removes it even further from its connection to actual rape, which is a good thing. Second, look at what your fantasy ravisher can offer you that a normal man can not; an incredibly huge shaft to be impaled on, ridiculous endurance which takes you well beyond your limit, certain creatures that can take you multiple ways simultaneously, unlimited cum loads (I’m into that) with instant recovery times, the idea that the creatures trigger (chemically, magically, etc) earth-shattering orgasms in you, that they can not control their primal urges simply by your presence alone, and lastly that they have the inhuman strength that leaves you totally helpless to resist them taking you (many being similar to bondage positions, especially when dealing with tentacles). My god, what better sexual fantasy is there for a woman than having her brains totally fucked out?

So, let me embrace my inner-nerd and know that when I am with a guy I frequently imagine that my own love making could reach these wonderfully fantastical heights of erotica. Most of my erotic fiction I had wrote in junior high was of me being alongside Hermione Granger in my own sexually twisted version of Hogwarts – it had it all; monsters galore, spell mishaps, mind control, a disciplining school, practical joking teens, and magical sex toys of the most awesome kind. Who knows, if these opportunities actually existed perhaps I would become Stacy, the Monster Hunter. Of course, how I take the beasts down would be an entirely different story.

Please dream of me (like I dream of myself),

Stacy