My kidnap fantasies are probably one of the darkest places I go. They scare me and I don’t like admitting them to myself let alone anyone else. They either start being bundled into the boot of a car or a side opening door of a van, I know very cliched! Sometimes I’m physically manhandled as I scream and kick out, sometimes I just wake, unaware of where I am, bound and stripped naked.
Sometimes it’s just one perpetrator at other times there’s a group, it’s always men in this scenario, other women never feature. The abductors are always faceless, a huge proportion of my fantasies are. Sometimes everything that happens stays in the back of the van, sometimes I’m taken to a remote woodland location.
They invariably end, yes I need to play out the whole story, with being either abandoned in the woods, still bound hoping someone will find me and take pity on me, or dumped at the road side in the rain with my tattered, useless clothes strewn around me.
What happens in between always involves me being hurt, humiliated and used…hard. That is the part that’s just for me, I’ll leave it up to your own imaginations.
Would I ever want this fantasy to cross over into reality? Absolutely not! What happens is well beyond my limits, my fantasies are my safe space to explore without real harm. It’s possible my partner could arrange a pared down version, he could never hurt me nor allow me to be hurt in that way. He could hire a van and we could have lots of fun but fun isn’t part of this fantasy, it’s the unknown and the danger that makes it what it is for me.