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“Maybe a little.”
“I’m not a rapist, Kas,” he says quietly. “I’ve never forced myself on anyone who wasn’t actually into it as well. You didn’t use your safeword. You were responding, and I’m pretty sure you were enjoying it. Please tell me I didn’t overstep.”
“You didn’t.”
He lets out a sharp sigh of relief but continues to stare at the ceiling. I can’t read his face.
“Why do you like it?” I ask quietly.
Cree turns back to me, shrugs, and then looks away again. He takes a few breaths before looking back at me.
“Why do you have fantasies about being raped?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I read a book once that had a rape scene, and it…well, it…”
“It turned you on.”
“Yeah. I guess so. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“I’ve had those kinds of thoughts pretty much since puberty,” Cree says, softening his tone. “I don’t know why. I don’t have a traumatic event in my life that triggered it. It’s just always been a scene that’s turned me on. I spent years being ashamed of it, assuming that the thoughts made me a sexual predator. I figured someone would find out and put me on that list of child molesters and other sex crime felons.”
“Are you?”
“God, no!” Cree shakes his head sharply and presses his lips together.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“Do you think you’d enjoy actually being raped?” he asks.
“No!” I stare at him, shocked he’d even suggest it.
“Of course you wouldn’t. It was meant to be rhetorical. I’m kind of baring my all here, Kas. I try to be very open about everything, but no one wants to be judged.”
“I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I’ve just never had a discussion like this before. I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about myself right now.”
“I keep forgetting how new you are to all of this,” Cree says. He reaches over, turning his palm up, and I place my hand in his. He gives it a light squeeze before continuing. “Before I discovered rope, I discovered a primal play group.”
“A what?”
“I should probably clarify so I’m not confusing you with terminology. People in the lifestyle have definitions that vanillas don’t tend to use in their vocabulary.”
“You’re losing me.”
“Sorry. Let me back up.” Cree shifts himself around until he’s facing me and takes my other hand in his. He holds our hands together in the center of the space between us. “Kink lifestyle has a lot of different factions. I’ve told you a little about rope and mentioned that there are others, countless others, really. One subgroup is made up of predators and prey—people who like the hunt and people who like to be hunted—and it’s referred to as primal play.”
“I’m assuming we are not talking about being in the woods and running through the trees, are we?”
“Well, not specifically, but that wouldn’t be out of the question. It’s more about acting on whatever you are feeling, outside of societal norms, and not about the giv
en venue. It’s unfiltered and chaotic. You act on instinct instead of what you think you should or shouldn’t do. It doesn’t always mean rough—it can be very tender—but in my case, that is how I like it. I like to pursue and capture. I like the feeling of taking what I want.”
“But…not actually against someone’s will?”
“I have never raped anyone, and I never would. I would be devastated if I actually hurt someone. I get upset when I just make someone uncomfortable. I still like the fantasy of rape, and I like sharing that fantasy with others who also enjoy the same kind of thing. It took me a long time to figure out that liking the thought and acting out the deed are completely different.”
“The same way I liked it but wouldn’t want it to really happen.”
“Exactly the same. This is about an exchange of power, not assault. You allow me to have power over you because you like to feel out of control, even though you know—at least I hope you do—that I’d never hurt you, and I would always stop if you asked me to.”
