Recently, I watched “Labyrinth” again for the thousandth or so time because it’s such a great movie. Aside from gawking at David Bowie’s titillatingly tight trousers and singing along with every song, I had a flash of pervy revelation. That scene with all the hands as Sarah falls into the oubliette. Uhuh.
The Fella and I have been binge-watching ‘Sons of Anarchy’ lately. I’m enjoying it very much, the plot twists are clever and the characters are complex. It’s violent and pretty fucking harsh in places, and that’s what triggered this blog post.
Without going into detail that might reveal spoilers, there are some scenes of nonconsensual sexual activity, quite graphically depicted. Gratuitously, one might say, considering that this is fiction and not documentary; what is the necessity to portray for entertainment the awful things that people might do to each other? Perhaps it’s for titillation – and this is where the title of this post comes in for me.
Today’s the day. After weeks of careful negotiations over DMs and cups of tea, detailed planning – most of which I was not party to by my own request – and shivering anticipation, we three have arrived at the place and time of our assignation.
I close the door of the hotel room and lean against it, kicking off my kitten-heel shoes with a sigh. Conferences are always so exhausting once the high of getting my geek on wears off. My mind is racing; notes to make, follow-up emails to send, ideas, conversations, names, faces…it’s all too much to cope with right now. I reach for my phone and text Him.
The note He left me gave clear instructions in His spiky drunken-spider handwriting
Take off your clothes.
Insert the earbuds
Put on the hood.
Present yourself and wait for me.
Keep absolutely still at all times. If you move, you will be punished.
CONTENT WARNING: This is part dark fantasy, part writing exercise and wholly fictional. It depicts non-consensual sex, dominance and violence within a very disturbing relationship, by characters whose eventual wellbeing cannot be assured. If these are things that would distress you to read about, even as fiction, please don’t go any further with this blogpost. Always take care of yourselves and each other.
Word is sent to the door of the concubine house. “Lily. He’s asked for Lily”
“You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?”
The question is delivered half-chidingly, half with amusement. It’s a rhetorical question but one that I am still expected to answer. Contrition or cheekiness? I weigh up which is most likely to be rewarded and opt for blatant laciviousness
“I am, Sir. I want whatever you will grant me”
TW: some of these fantasies involve totally make-believe scenarios of non-consensual sex. Consent is definitely and always necessary IRL, but inside my head I am safe to explore darker themes without damage. If the idea makes you uncomfortable or distressed then this blog post is not for you, please don’t read on. Always take care of yourselves and each other.
What do you think about when you’re having a wank? Someone asked me this a long time ago and my response was erm; fucking, duh….isn’t that what everyone thinks about?