I was talking with a friend recently and we were sharing experiences that we thought were unique to us and became so excited when we realized that we were not the only ones who had done this. I will not share this person's story. It isn't mine to share, but I will share the ways in which I negotiated for control in the relationship and carried a lot of shame as a result. The relationship with my ex-fiance...well, the outcome was inevitable, it seemed. So I did a series of actions to try to take the control back, yet these actions are actions that made me petrified to share with anyone, much less a prosecutor, because I knew it would be turned back around on blaming me, though it was a survival strategy. I suspect there are others who will read this who may feel validated as well.
So, he would penetrate me while I was sleeping. I thought perhaps he was turned on by my sleeping body. I hated it. Hated it so much. But I thought maybe I could satiate him by playing a game. We called it "little dead girl." It was my idea because I thought that if he knew I would do this consentually, he would stop raping me in my sleep. So I asked him to tie me to the bedposts as if he had kidnapped me. And then I would pretend to be dead. And he would get on top of me and push himself inside of me. I actually enjoyed it because I had control of the situation. I was saying, "Its okay for you to do this." Which is something I never was able to say when I was passed out or sleeping.
We also played a game, also my idea, called "Mr Plumber Rapist Man." Where I would put on an apron and be doing the dishes and he would go outside and knock on the door. I'd answer it and he'd say he was there to fix the plumbing. And I would say, "But I don't have a problem with my plumbing, sir." And then (this was all planned out ahead of time, we had a code word for "stop" in case I wanted to call it off) he would force his way into the apartment and I'd struggle to get away from him (I mean really struggle...as if it were real that time). And he'd overpower me and I'd be tearing at him screaming for help, screaming for him to stop and really crying, I mean I was fighting like hell.
Ironically, this really disturbed him. I think it was my way of having control in the rape process. It was the first time I felt permitted to fight him off, even though every time he did it without my consent I wanted to fight him off. I wanted to kick and scream and tear at his hair and his skin and use whatever means necessary to stop it. But I felt at the time as his girlfriend/fiance that what he was doing couldn't possibly really be rape (I mean the non-consentual times) because we slept in the same bed and were getting married and he was somehow entitled to me whenever he wanted me, because, after all, we loved each other. I felt really fucked up for wanting to "play rape", but I realize now that I thought if I could consentually give him what he wanted, maybe he'd quit doing it when I didn't want it. It also was empowering to be able to fight him. I had to create a play-situation to feel entitled to fight him off. I felt I didn't have the right to fight him off when he actually was raping me, because I was repressing the idea of what he was doing was in fact rape.
Try to take this to a prosecutors office, you know?
One other time I decided I would "set the scene" for a hot and sexy encounter. The only ground rules were that I had to be in control of the sex. I made a tape with raunchy songs like Pink Floyd's "Young Lust", "Brown Sugar" by the Rolling Stones, etc. I laid blankets down on our living room floor and invited him downstairs. I did a striptease and was giving him a lap dance. He kept trying to take off my clothes. And I said coyly, "No. You have to wait." So he'd wait for a little while and then start tearing at my clothes. And I'd say more insistently, "No. You have to wait." Then he did it again....he'd withheld sex from me for awhile at this point to punish me for something or other, I mean less than a month before I'd awakened in the wet spot, with no recollection of having had sex with him the night before. I was completely passed out and he thought this was funny and refused to tell me what happened. We hadn't had sex since then, and even though I'd ordered new lingerie to try to entice him, he'd look at me like I was pathetic for trying.
So setting up this scene in our living room was my desperate attempted to get him to see me as desireable on my terms. And he's tearing at my clothes and I'm saying "No!" because I wanted control. And then he just ripped them off and fucked me. I remember laying beneath him and crying, trying to pretend to moan like I liked it, thinking I should just shut up and be grateful he was fucking me.
I wanted to post this in here because as I realized with my friend, this type of negotiating has happened to at least two of us. I suspect it isn't a coincidence that the only two people in the world to ever have experienced this just happened to talk about it. I think this happens all the time. Women who are raped trying to negotiate with the rapist (whether it be stranger, acquaintance, friend, lover, etc.) to somehow make the experience somewhat on their terms, in whatever small way it can be. I was ashamed of this for so, so long. It was the main reason I kept silent because I said to myself, "What right do I have to accuse him , when I did it sometimes voluntarily?" Well, now I know why I did it. And it makes perfect sense.
I hope this helps some of you.