Not a fantasy about raping, but about being raped.
It seems as if anyone who enjoys this fantasy has no clue what rape is, and yet, 1 in 6 women in the United States have been a victim of rape or attempted rape. 1 in 6. At Starbucks as you get your morning coffee, realize that at least one women in the cafe with you has been raped. At a sport event, calculate the percentage of the crowd that's female, then mentally seat them together and figure out what a sixth of that is. How many sections are full of rape victims? Breathtaking, isn't it? Heart-rending might be a better term. Now count the men around you. 1 million men in the U.S. are estimated to rape victims. That's 1 in about 360. So 17.7 million women and 1 million men in the United States, and their families and friends, know damn well what rape is.
My immediate reaction to the idea of rape fantasy is, "What the fuck is wrong with these people?"
As you can see, it's hard to be nonjudgmental. Yet, I have a problem with playing thought police. I have a harder time telling women what they can, and cannot, find arousing. As I said, I'm strongly repulsed by it, but is it my place to tell a woman that she's not allowed to fantasize about being raped?
I wish that nobody fantasied about being raped. I wish that I didn't have to fear that rapists would use the existence of this taboo fantasy as an excuse for their crimes. I wish that evil men didn't solicit rape-by-proxy of their ex-wives or ex-girlfriends by going online, pretending to be their ex and asking some stranger to fulfill a rape fantasy, but it happens. It happens more often than you would think. I wish that it was so absurdly, horribly unthinkable that no one ever thought of it again.
But they do.
What a world.
Even with great heaviness in my heart over this matter, I have yet to reach a conclusion about where I stand on this issue. Like many of the thornier dilemmas I muddle through, it could take years before I can reconcile these two philosophies: the right of women to sexual self-determination, and my abhorrence for a crime that has nothing to do with sex.