STORY BY TRACIE EGAN, ILLUSTRATION BY JIM KREWSON

blame my recurring rape fantasy on the fact that I’m a feminist. I’ve never made any bones about getting boned in exactly the fashion that I want. But as a girl, my equipment can be trickier to manage, therefore I need to be a boss in the bedroom to ensure I get worked the right way. It gets really tiresome always being the one in charge, and don’t shrinks say that people usually fantasize about the opposite of their reality? I guess that’s why I find myself wishing that my typically sugary-sweet sexual encounters were sometimes peppered with assault. I decided that the best way to forfeit that control—while still holding on to a modicum of it for safekeeping—would be to hire someone for the job. Not to put too fine a point on it, I wanted a male whore to rape me.

My first thoughts were of New York artist Brock Enright, who founded Video Games Adventure Services in 2002. It’s a company that provides a rather violent “designer kidnapping” for a price that actually rapes a wallet more than it does the customer, but I’d heard tell that some escort services provide similarly realistic rape and abduction scenarios for a fraction of the cost. I didn’t want mine to be crazy violent, with, like, punching and stuff. (I wouldn’t mind some fingerprint bruises on my wrists, but my face needs to stay pretty so I can keep getting sex for free on other occasions.) I also didn’t want any duct tape involved, and I didn’t want to be gagged (unless, you know, it’s with a cock).

And so began my quest to hire a rapist. I started by reviewing hustlers’ profiles through escort websites, but I was totally turned off. Even when they said they only serviced women, they all looked like total homos. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against gay dudes. I just don’t want to get raped by one. I knew they wouldn’t be “up” for the job, har har har. I actually had a lot more luck in the “erotic services” section of Craigslist. I didn’t have to go through a middleman, and all the dudes I corresponded with were more than happy to send me cock shots, free of charge.

The pictures were really important to me. One of my main concerns about hiring a hooker was that he might be ugly. I’m not one of those girls that needs an emotional connection to fuck a guy. Shit, I don’t even need to know his last name. But he needs to be attractive. Swagger and wit can only get one so far. I’m into faces. And I wasn’t sure I could get into it if he had an ugly one. I decided he would need to wear a ski mask, because then I wouldn’t know if he was ugly, and because it would also be extra scary and thrilling and hot. Of the dudes on my short list, only one of them had a ski mask. But he also mentioned in the same sentence that he had a gun we could use, and thus ended his brief tenure on my short list.

I ended up making a date with a 21-year-old guy (let’s call him Dick), who said that he exclusively services women. I liked him because in the picture he sent to my phone, he wasn’t ugly. He looked half-Guido, half-frat-boy, and that seemed like a pretty rape-y combo. He assured me he could handle the rape fantasy, as role playing was his specialty. Dick said he would perform the whole fantasy, with no time limit, for $300.


TO BE CONTINUED:
ONE RAPE PLEASE | 1 | 2 | 3 |

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