WARNING - possible sexual violence trigger.
I types this out and am still not sure whether to post, but I seem to be in a publish and be damned mood. I am sorry of it causes upset and warn again that it could be triggering.
I am surprised that WB's 'fantasy' post has been allowed to stay up on this thread. I had thought that it would be removed, but as it has not, I think it is so good that is deserves a chapter 2.
Here we go:
"The night following my passionate lovemaking with Mark, I was struck down with a terrible migraine. It seemed like my body and senses had been so overwhelmed by the sexual energy that has flooded through me the night before that even the slightest stimulation caused a shaft of pain to split my head in two. I took the strongest painkillers I could and eventually dropped into a deep, drugged sleep.
Sometime later that night, I came awake to find a man on top of me, squeezing my throat and thrusting his penis inside of me. It took me a few moments for the fog of the sleep and painkillers to lift before I realised: the man was Mark.
But this was all wrong! I didn't feel the same sexual excitement as I had felt the night before. My head pounded and I felt like I was going to be sick, but I couldn't be because of the hands around my neck. I pulled at these hands, and tried to cry out "Stop!" but could only manage a few muffled sounds. I tried to push at the body on top of me but felt weak and couldn't move him. Eventually I just lay still waiting for him to finish. When he eventually did, I lay there, trying to say something, but my throat was sore and my head still pounded and no words would come. Mark soon fell asleep, and I did too, eventually.
The next morning I spoke to Mark. I told him that I had not been feeling well and had not enjoyed it. He said that he was deeply sorry, and asked me why I had not stopped him. I said that I had tried, that I had pulled at his hands and pushed at his chest, but he kept going. He gave a little laugh at this and said "Sweetie, you always do that when I play at being the Arab. I thought you were enjoying yourself as normal!". He said that in future, I should tell him if I had a migraine and he would make sure not to 'surprise' me when I was feeling ill. Later that day he brought me a big bunch of flowers and said again how sorry he was. I could tell that he really loved me and wouldn't do anything to harm me.
A few days later, Mark asked me if I had a migraine. I told him that I was feeling fine, and he winked at me, saying that maybe I would have a special visitor that night. Later that evening, I went off to bed. Mark said that he would follow me a few moments later. I lay on my bed and started to run through the 'Arab Queen' fantasy. I was pleased that the feelings of excitement and arousal flooded through me once more.
As I lay there pretending to be asleep, I heard the phone ring and Mark's voice answering it. He must have been speaking for some time because despite my excitement, my pretend sleep became real and I drifted off.
I awoke a little time later to find Mark inside me and with his hands around my throat. I tried to slip back into my fantasy of being an Arab queen, but as much as I tried to follow the usual pattern I followed, memories of the time before kept forcing themselves into my mind. I let Mark continue for a little while, as I knew that he enjoyed this fantasy as much as I did (used to?) but eventually it became too much for me. I had to push quite hard at Mark to get him to stop, and regretted that we had not agreed a code word beforehand. I remembered the time I had laughed at my friend Ami, who made no secret of the sub-Dom sex she enjoyed with her partner Steve, when she has told me of the fun they had had choosing their safe word: apparently they had gone through all their multiple scenarios and concluded that 'Persephone' could never be confused for a cry of enthusiasm. I remembered the quizzical look she had given me when I said that Mark and I had no need of a safe word as he really loved me and I trusted him 110% never to hurt me.
Mark seemed a bit annoyed that I had stopped him. "I thought you liked this role play", he said. "I do!" I protested, although I couldn't quite quell the little voice in my head which said "you did".
"You know I do this fantasy for you, don't you?" said Mark. There was an edge to his voice that I couldn't quite tell whether it was disappointment, anger or guilt. I decided that it must be the latter when he said "You do know that I love you, don't you? That I would never do anything to hurt you, yes?"
"Yes". I said.
Mark went off to sleep in the spare room that night, saying that he didn't want to bother me any more that night.
The next morning Mark and I had a deep chat. I told him that I did not want to do the 'Arab' fantasy again. He said he understood, and that so long as I was happy we wouldn't ever do it again. Mark held me and told me that he was so very sorry and that he loved me more than anything. He said that it killed him to think that I had not enjoyed sex with him and that it would break his heart if he ever heard again that I had not enjoyed sex with him. I felt his strong arms around me and remembered how I has always called him my protector.
"But you do still like our 'surprise sex' don't you?" asked Mark, holding me close. I hesitated. "I mean", said Mark "it has always been one of the things that I have loved about you. I love it that you trust me to share this part of your sexuality. I think it brings us really close, don't you agree?"
"Yes, I do still like it" I agreed. After all, I was a strong, confident woman who was sure of her sexual identity. I felt so lucky to have a man with whom I could share that side of me. "Good", said Mark. "I will just have to think of some inventive ways to surprise you, won't I". He winked, and with that he seemed to consider the matter closed. He gave me a squeeze and got up to go to his 'den' where I heard him singing snatches of songs and tuning his favourite guitar.
Three days later, I was sitting in the kitchen with my mum having a cup of tea. Suddenly, Mark burst into the room, dressed in nothing but a tool belt. "'Ello darlin'" he drawled in the worst impression of a cockney accent I had ever heard "I'm the plumber, come to sort your plumbing out". With that, he grabbed me, threw me down on the kitchen table, pushed my skirt up and proceeded to push his erection into me. I froze. I was so shocked and embarrassed that I couldn't find my voice to tell him to stop, let alone to alert him to the presence of my mum, who stood staring open mouthed by the washing machine. Fortunately, Mark finished in a matter of seconds, as he turned to leave the room he winked at my mum and said "Hello, Mrs WB, didn't see you there". He walked out with a jaunty whistle. As soon as he had left the room, she muttered something about collecting Dad from the Doctor, grabbed her handbag and ran out the door.
So MN, here is my dilemma. I know that Mark loves me, because he tells me so about 10 times a day. I love that we have such a passionate sex life, and that I can trust him absolutely, but how do I get it through to him that sometimes are not a good time to have sex? I'm sure if I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him in front of my mum, he wouldn't do so again. Was it my fault for not telling him to stop? I know I should have, but I was so shocked I couldn't speak. I am worried that even if i tell him I don't want to have sex in front of my mum, he might not realise I am also not happy to have sex in front of my nan. Do I have to list all the family members or is there another way? I also keep thinking about the time he had sex with me when I had a migraine. I can't blame him because we had done it that way before and I had liked it, and it is easy to see why he thought me asking to stop was really me enjoying it, but it still makes me feel sad. How can I deal with my sadness so that I don't have to tell him to stop, like I did the third time. I hate it when I feel guilty for stopping him. What can I do?"