Vanessa de Largie | Cara Sutra Sexuality Magazine | September 1, 2016
The first article I read when I visited Cara Sutra, was Cara’s brave offering about her multiple rapes and the importance of rape fantasy and rapeplay in her sex-life.
I’m not going to lie, as a rape survivor myself — I found the article very confronting and it took me days to process what I had just read.
As Cara points out in her piece:
“Perhaps you think rape fantasy is all very well for those who haven’t gone through the horrors of rape. That women who hold rape fantasy dear to them somehow have a rose tinted view of what it involves. Well no, actually. I’m a multiple rape survivor and while it’s still difficult to admit that, I am simply not allowing those less-than-human-beings any more power over me or my life by silencing me after the event.
This adamant refusal to let the events and the perpetrators have any further power over me, mentally or physically, ties in very much to why rape fantasy is such an enjoyable roleplay and sexual fetish of mine. Rape fantasy and rapeplay isn’t a choice for me, it’s a need. My own research into the matter has shown me that those who have suffered real rape have a higher likelihood of wanting to or needing to incorporate rapeplay into their sex life with a trusted partner.”
Cara’s article brought up a variety of emotions within me but the most prevalent one — was shame. Shame about my own sexual fantasies after rape and shame for what had occurred during.
I published a memoir about my rape in early 2016. In it, there is a chapter called ‘Stain of Shame.’ On the morning of my rape, when my perpetrator wrestled me down and penetrated me — I moistened for him.
I’d always been aroused by rapeplay pre-assault and somehow, my body didn’t know the difference. I attached shame to this occurrence and it put me into years of therapy and self-analysation. I mention this to highlight the layered terrain of sexual fantasies and sexual assault. It wasn’t until I read Cara’s article that I realised how much shame I’m still carrying.
Why didn’t the rape cease my rough-sex and rapeplay fantasies?
Why do I still feel the need to be fucked so viciously by men who I trust?
Why is it that as a sexual assault survivor and sexually expressive woman, it is me who has to carry the shame? Not only the shame I place upon myself but the shame society places upon me?
I’m unable to answer the hows, whys and buts. All I know is when I read Cara’s article, I felt seen and heard for the first time in years. Finally.
I’ve decided to let go of the shame I carry around my own rape fantasies. I am allowed to express myself and heal myself in anyway I please. What happens between my legs is my business.